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colormepurplex2 · 5 months

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Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop | MYG

▻ Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop ↳ ArtProfessor!Yoongi x Artist/CoffeeShopOwner!f.Reader ⤜ Strangers to Lovers, Cozy Romance ⤜ Coffee Shop/Art AU | fluff, smut ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 8,028 ⤜ Summary: It’s like clockwork; you receive the same online order every weekday morning at eight o’clock: large decaf iced Americano, picked up promptly shortly after. His face has become familiar, as a part of your routine as the hiss of the espresso machine. Until, one day, that routine takes an unexpected turn, and you find yourself getting familiar with more than just his face. ⚠️ Very mild language, panic over student/teacher potential date (reader is a student, but she's the same age as Yoongi, just taking classes later in life than most), oral m receiving, fingering, kissing, mild dirty talk, cum swallowing, confessions of the heart

A/N: This is part of my 'Heartbeat Melodies' mini-series, where I write fics that are inspired by songs. If you'd like to hear the song that inspired this, you can find it here! A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi & @moonleeai for their amazing beta services!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

“Large decaf iced Americano,” you call out, barely glancing up from behind the counter.

A deep, familiar drawl pulls your attention, “That would be mine.” It’s only familiar for the fact you’ve heard that voice nearly every day for the last six months.

Your eyes snap up from the tablet, where the next online order has come through, to meet warm brown ones. “I should have known,�� you reply before you can think better to bite your tongue. Heat suffuses your cheeks. You pull your lips between your teeth to stifle the groan of embarrassment that begs to be released.

The man chuckles, absently using a knuckle to push up the hornrimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know if I should be offended or honored by that comment. But, I guess I do come here a lot.”

Nearly every day for the last six months, at least. That’s how often he comes here—to your coffee shop. It’s tiny, barely big enough for a handful of small tables and chairs. But it’s yours, and you’re proud of it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to seem…” you trail off. Not sure how to finish that thought because you’re not entirely sure how you meant it or why you said it other than the fact you’re a bit frazzled this morning and apparently forgot your mouth filter at home. It was a late night last night for you. It's not an excuse, but still.

He waves a large hand in the air, dismissing your apology. “Please, it’s quite alright. I’ll take it as flattery; could use a little boost to my confidence anyhow.”

That almost makes you sputter in disbelief. There’s absolutely no way this man needs any flattery. Surely, he comes by it in droves. Because, well, he’s honestly so gorgeous it should be criminal.

His hair is fluffy, somewhere between charcoal grey and black, though the warm lighting of your cafe gives it a golden honey halo effect. The eyes behind his black-rimmed glasses are dark swirls of espresso that match his coffee order—a straight nose sitting above soft, pink lips that have a light glossy sheen to them.

As usual, he’s wearing a pressed slack and jacket combo, a cream-colored collared shirt underneath with a bold print tie. His choice of ties is what drew you to him in the first place, and made you pay a little closer attention to the mysterious man behind the large decaf iced Americano.

You clear your throat, daring to be bold, while it seems you’ve no filter to stop you. “Well, if you ever need further flattery, you know where to find me.” It’s clear that you give him an assessing once over, his eyes locked onto yours as you do so.

“Do you paint?”

The question throws you off, nearly making you drop the tablet in your hands. Your fingers flex against the case, your thumb brushing along the glass screen. Busying yourself with reviewing the next order on the screen, you turn, giving him your back as you decide how to answer his random question. You’ve never actually had a conversation with him; this man that you feel like you know yet is a complete stranger.

“Why do you ask?” you deflect as you go through the motions of scooping grinds and swapping out the portafilter for a freshly filled one. However, you know it’s not always polite to answer a question with a question; you’re just not sure how to decipher his curiosity or where it came from to begin with.

The bell above the door rings, and you wince as the espresso machine gurgles and hisses loudly as you mechanically pop a cup in the machine and hit the brew button. The noise fills the quiet space of the coffee shop. It’s not until the cup is filled, you’ve added two lumps of sugar, and you’re grabbing a lid that the man responds.

“There’s paint under your fingernails. Or, at least, what I would guess is paint.”

Glancing down at the cup in your hand, you take in the colorful myriad of flecks coating your skin. The colors fill the grooves of your knuckles and hug around the bed of your nails.

“Double espresso with two sugars,” you announce, ripping your gaze from your hand to the interior space of your cafe. A woman steps around the man, giving you a hurried smile as she holds out her hand to receive the cup. You hand it off. “Have a good day.”

Giving the cafe's inside a quick glance, you ensure all the customers within are taken care of. A college student is busy pounding away at their laptop keyboard in the corner, utilizing your free wifi. A half-empty cup of hot cocoa sits cold and abandoned beside them. A trio of friends sit at your only table big enough to seat more than two people, laughing softly and sipping hot lattes and teas. No one seems to need your attention; except the man still standing there, large decaf iced Americano in hand.

You lick your lips, a nervous habit you picked up after endless stressful nights pouring your heart, soul, blood, sweat, and tears into opening the small cafe. Most believed it would flop; others rallied to your side and helped your dream come true.

“Look, sorry if I’ve overstepped somehow,” he begins, but you shake your head, letting him know he’s not.

Gesturing at the wall behind the man, you finally answer, “In my spare time.”

He glances over his shoulder, eyes zigzagging across the giant unfinished mural covering the windowless back wall of the cafe.

“That?” he asks. “You’re painting that?”

It’s hard to decipher if that’s disbelief or awe coloring his voice.

“I am,” you answer a bit hesitantly.

“Wow!” he exclaims, a giant grin spreading across his face, crinkling his eyes at the corners. “I’ve been meaning to ask after the artist every time I come in and see something new added, I just uh,” he brings his free hand up and rubs it across the back of his neck, eyes dropping to the floor under his feet, “well, could never bring myself to.” It’s pretty, the way his cheeks take on a flush of color as his eyes cut to you from over the frame of his glasses. “It’s wonderful work.”

“Thank you.” You can’t help your own flush of shyness at his praise.

“So, uh,” he lifts his cup and gives it a swirl, the ice sloshing around inside, before taking a small sip through the straw, “I know you probably see it on the order, but for the sake of propriety, my name’s Yoongi.”

Min Yoongi, to be more precise, you know. It’s a name you’ve read so many times it’s ingrained in your mind. However, it’s still nice for him to offer it to you. Willingly establishing your connection one step further than his coffee order.

You feel so silly tapping the name tag on the front of your apron, but you do it before you can think better of it, mumbling your name as if he can’t read it for himself after you brought direct attention to it. “Sorry, I’m not normally so weird,” you give a shaky laugh, willing yourself to shut up before you chase him off from how awkward you’re being.

Something changes in his demeanor, his eyes taking on a light twinkle that sits somewhere between mischief and wonder. “I like weird,” he offers casually as if that doesn’t make your stomach swoop and your heart beat a little harder. “Maybe we can talk more about your art sometime. Maybe over dinner? Or lunch if dinner is too forward.”

If you were a cartoon, you’re confident your tongue would actually be tied into a jumbled knot right now with you frantically trying to talk around it, a comical scene for sure. Yet, there is no knot, just a thick feeling that you have to swallow past. “Um, yeah, sure. That would be great. Dinner…or uh, lunch. Both. Either one. Though, dinner might be better considering my hours.”

Yoongi glances at the vinyl hours printed on the front window by the door. They’re backward from his vantage point, but you assume he has no issue reading them, considering he turns back to you and asks, “How does seven work for you?”

“Tonight?” The beating of your heart lurches again, and you can barely hear him over the rushing in your ears.

“Yeah, if that’s not too soon. Perhaps next week, if that’s better? I don’t want to come on too strong. Or well, rather, what I mean to say is, don’t feel pressured.” You can tell he’s feeling hesitant now, trying to backtrack and offer you a way to politely decline his offer for dinner tonight. You didn’t mean to come off sounding so put out. You just weren’t expecting his request to be for tonight.

Mentally, you dig through your schedule. You’re not closing today. Marvin comes in at noon to help with the lunch rush, and then you leave at four to make it to your five o’clock class. It would be today of all days that your new art class starts. It’s the beginning of the fall semester at the local university, and you just so happened to decide to take a few art classes they were offering, the first of which starts tonight.

The class should only be around an hour long, with plenty of time to get home and change before the date. Is it a date? Or just strangers getting together to talk about art? Isn’t that what a date is anyway, though?

“Seven. Tonight. That would be great.”

“Okay, perfect. Can I pick you up? Or we can meet here if that works better.”

It’s endearing he’d offer, both picking you up and meeting in a familiar place. Considering you live above the coffee shop, though, it makes no difference. Though, he doesn’t necessarily know that.

“Here is fine.”

“Wonderful. Have you tried that steak house on the corner yet?”

“The new one that opened last week?” He nods. “I haven’t, no.”

“Perfect.” Yoongi smiles. “Here, at seven. Consider it a date.” His smile falters, and his brows pinch, forming a line between them. “Not that I…well, it’s not that…it doesn’t have to be…if you don’t want this to be a date, that’s—”

“It’s a date,” you confirm, giving him what you hope to be a warm smile to ease his mild panic. “I’ll see you then, Yoongi.”

“See you then,” he responds, tacking your name on at the end in his deep drawl. The way it sounds coming from his mouth should be added to one of those spicy erotica audiobooks you may or may not have downloaded on your phone.

Just as Yoongi is leaving, it’s like the world finally takes a breath, and the exhalation that follows brings with it a rush of early morning commuters seeking their morning fix. The everyday bustle and hubbub of the day filter back in, and you’re soon lost to the sway of the shop, coffee, tea, and cocoa. It all comes alive beneath your nimble fingers, much reminiscent of the way holding a brush makes you feel: a thrill of the soul with each pour.

☕☕☕

Yoongi

In all Yoongi’s years of teaching, he’s never been late to a class, especially on the first day of the semester. Yet, he’s nearly fifteen minutes late getting into his classroom this morning. Students are already filled in and scattered around the theatre-style seating. No one says anything. It’s far too early in the morning for smart mouths and snarky remarks about his tardiness. Not that he would expect that from any of the students anyway.

“Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min.” He drops his bag and coffee off on his podium at the front of the classroom. Turning to the large chalkboard behind it, he scrawls his name to the side and then begins to write directions. “We will begin with Chapter 1, ‘Mediums and Forms’, in your textbook. Please read quietly, and I’ll be with you all in a moment.”

The day goes on, class after class, and the familiar monotony of it brings Yoongi a sense of peace. This is familiar territory; he’s in his element, not like this morning in the coffee shop. He felt totally out of control and swept up in the swirl of uncertainties and possibilities.

To say he’s relieved you agreed to go to dinner with him would be an understatement. From the moment he decided to change up his routine to check out the cafe Namjoon wouldn’t shut up about, he’s been hooked not only on the impeccable decaf iced Americano, nor the beautifully decorated and painted interior but on the smiling face behind the counter.

Yoongi feels a bit self-conscious thinking about how much he thinks about you. He’s always been too intimidated by the idea of speaking more than a few passing words to you. It’s like every time he gathered up the courage, it would abandon him at the last moment. Namjoon calls it a crush, Yoongi calls it frustrating.

The whole conversation this morning is a bit of a blur to him. Yoongi swears once he opened his mouth it was nearly impossible to stop the word vomit from gushing out…and the next thing he knew, you were agreeing to a date with him tonight.

The day's last class rolls around, and Yoongi feels much lighter as he steps out of his adjoining office and into the classroom to welcome the new students. A few offer him quiet hello’s, some he’s seen from other art classes he’s monitored across the entire department and fine arts program.

Turning his back as the last few students filter in, he makes the same spiel he has at the beginning of every class. “Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min…”

And so it begins, the beautiful dance of teaching and introducing fresh minds to the concept of forms and mediums. Yoongi is sure he could recite the entirety of Chapter 1 from memory now, with as many times as he’s gone over it today.

“What if you decide you don’t like your form or medium halfway through the project?” a student from the front row asks after Yoongi explains the medium and forms requisite for the final project for this class.

“We’re going to spend plenty of time during the first part of the semester testing out different mediums to know which best suits each of your individual tastes and needs. Regarding the form, I recommend choosing something you most likely won’t tire of. Something that means something to you but also isn’t so complex that you frustrate yourself and burn out before you can complete the project. You’re welcome to, at any time, bring me an idea of the form you’re considering, and we can talk about the intricacies and any potential issues that might arise with using it.”

Another question comes from somewhere in the middle, “Can we choose people, too?”

“A form can be anything that inspires you. If that happens to be a person, then of course. However, note that portraiture isn’t covered until Art 322, but I’ll do my best to help if that’s what you choose.” Yoongi glances at the clock, noticing there are only a few minutes left of class. “Let’s take the last few minutes to wind down, pack your things. If you have any further questions concerning your final project forms and mediums, please don’t hesitate to email me. Also, my office hours are open Tuesdays and Thursdays from two to six.”

As Yoongi turns to begin putting his things away from his podium, his eyes slide across the faces of his last class students, trying to cram them into his mind for the sake of remembering. He always likes to be as personable and approachable to his students as possible; knowing names and faces is always a good place to start.

He has to do a double take as his eyes flick over the very top row. The shock is felt throughout his entire body. It’s not that he’s surprised to see a face he already knows. It’s just that he wasn’t expecting it…wasn’t expecting to see you. Mild panic makes him jerk around, hands gripping at the papers on his podium, shuffling them mechanically.

The first thought that crosses his mind is he can’t possibly be going on a date with one of his students. Surely you’re just here to…to what? He turns over one of the papers, quickly scanning his roster that he hadn’t bothered to check yet. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to snag on your name.

Unease settles across his shoulders. He hates to cancel the date, as he was really looking forward to it, but it’s just…not right, right? There’s a line he shouldn’t cross with his students, even one who he is sure is his age and not the typical college freshman. Yoongi knows this because maybe, perhaps, he might have spent his lunch hour googling you and the cafe. You’re in your early thirties, given the birth year that was viewable on one of your social media pages, and own the coffee shop, have for several years now…a full-ass grown adult—the perfect person to date.

Except now you’re his student. There’s some moral code there somewhere, something about the skewed power dynamic. The thought of going on this date should have red flags flashing in his mind. Yet…yet, no matter how much he tells himself to cancel, he honestly doesn’t want to. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt that much, right? A harmless date.

That’s what he’s still telling himself as he dismisses the class a few minutes later. He intentionally avoided looking in your direction, unsure if you’d be comfortable with him acknowledging you as one of his students or not.

Much to his surprise, as the bubble of sound dissipates, a soft voice reaches his ears from a few feet behind him, “Fancy meeting you here.”

Yoongi has been so consumed with his own feelings about going on a date with a student that he hasn’t even thought about how you might feel. Are you about to cancel on him? Does he try to convince you not to?

He slowly turns, the stack of papers clutched in his hands, glasses slipping down his nose, yet he doesn’t want to pry his fingers from the bundle to fix them. “Look, I understand if you’d rather not—”

“I’m fine as long as you are.”

He’s relieved for your interruption, for keeping him from saying those words out loud. “Are you sure? If I had known this morning that you’d be one of my students…” he trails off, because he’s not so sure that would have stopped him after all. Considering he’s wanted to ask you out for at least the last four months.

“I’m glad you asked me. Student or not. I promise not to make it weird if you don’t.” You give him a brilliant smile, coy and full of mirth but light enough to make his heart jerk inside his chest.

“No weirdness, got it,” he agrees, unable to help his own teasing smile.

“So, I’ll see you then?” you ask, hefting your canvas bag on your shoulder. His eyes flick to it, noting the splashes and swirls of fabric paint that cover the outside. Yoongi wonders if you painted it yourself.

He nods, letting his eyes drink you in one last time before you turn to go. You’re still wearing the same jeans and thin cable knit sweater from the coffee shop this morning. Even in such casual clothes, you are stunning. A work of art all your own. He doesn’t stop staring until the door to his classroom shuts behind you.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. It’s not out of irritation or anger, just an acknowledgement of how truly and utterly he’s got it down bad for you.

☕☕☕

Seven can’t come soon enough. It only took you thirty minutes to get ready, putting on a simple black dress and flats. It’s not too fancy, but it makes you feel far more put together than just jeans and a t-shirt.

At five til, you make your way down into the coffee shop from your upstairs apartment. All of the main overhead lights are off, leaving only the warm accent lights that line the menu board and the display case lights on. Even now, the space smells delightedly of coffee.

It’s kind of funny, the fact that you’re not a coffee drinker. Everyone finds it odd that someone who doesn’t drink coffee would aspire to open a coffee shop. What they fail to realize is you love the smell of coffee. The warm, roasted, mildly sweet notes are what you thrive on, better than any shot of espresso in your mind.

There is a street lamp right outside your shop, flooding the sidewalk with a pool of yellow light. Standing just within the glow is Yoongi, his back to the shop door. You watch as his head swivels, looking down both directions of the sidewalk, completely unaware that you’ll be coming from behind him instead.

The sound of the lock turning over startles him. He jerks around and laughs softly, taking a step back, hand to his chest, as you pull the door open. “Can’t say I expected you to come from inside the cafe.”

“I would have been down sooner had I known you would be a bit early,” you say, locking the door behind you. “I probably should have given you my number or something.”

Yoongi eyes you, his gaze sliding up and down your body like he’s drinking you in. You hope he likes what he sees. “I think I was so excited about the date that I forgot even to ask,” he admits, giving you a sheepish smile when his eyes finally land back on yours. “You look,” —he gives you another quick once over, shaking his head and sinking his teeth into his bottom lip— “gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you preen under his praise. “You look quite handsome, yourself.”

You’re not just saying that to return the compliment, either. Yoongi is wearing the same thing he was this morning, except the tie is loosened, and the top button of his shirt is undone, giving you the slightest peek at his prominent jugular notch.

“Shall we?” he asks, offering you his arm.

You slip your hand into the bend of his elbow, falling into step beside him. The walk to the steak house is short, just enough for pleasant exchanges. He asks how your day at the coffee shop went, and you ask after his first day of classes. Neither of you bring up the fact that you were part of one of those classes.

“I’ve been meaning to check this place out. I’ve heard excellent things.”

Yoongi hums, nodding his head at your words. “I’ve also heard good things, though it might perhaps be biased considering all the praise I’ve heard has come from the owner himself.”

“You’ve spoken with the owner?”

“He’s one of my best friends, actually. This will be the first time I try it out. I kept telling him I’d stop by, but it always got away from me.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. “I can’t believe you know Seokjin.”

“Wait, you know Seokjin?” Yoongi asks, surprised.

“I’d say know is a relative term. We get deliveries from the same produce truck. He tried to take my apples one time. I had to set him straight.” That makes Yoongi laugh along with you. “We chat sometimes, mostly about the quality of produce and the best places to get ingredients. I had no idea he was your friend.”

“Small world,” Yoongi says. His smile is warm and inviting. You’re sure you could get lost in it if he’d let you. It makes you wonder what his lips taste like. They have a slight sheen to them like they did this morning. Cherry chapstick? Maybe mint? A nice subtle vanilla?

You’re not sure the last time you laughed so hard you had tears in your eyes. But Yoongi has your sides in stitches and your cheeks aching from smiling and laughing so much during dinner.

“Oh gosh,” you wheeze between fits of giggling, clutching your stomach. “Ow, ow. Don’t make me laugh again. I can’t take it.” It just makes you laugh even more, the huffs trailing off as Yoongi reaches across the table toward you.

You pry your hands from your abdomen and slide them into his. His fingers are warm against yours, his thumbs rubbing across the backs of your knuckles. It’s a gesture he’s done several times tonight, silently asking for your hands any chance he could.

“Sorry, you just have such a beautiful laugh,” he says. “I could listen to it all day.”

His flattery hasn’t stopped. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the two glasses of wine he had with dinner were going to his head. But, he speaks so assuredly and looks in your eyes like you’re truly something special.

Feeling so intimately connected with someone you barely know might be absurd. Yet, you can’t help but feel drawn to him. If you’re being honest, the attraction started long ago, and tonight has just made it blossom into something so much more.

Yoongi has been the perfect gentleman. He’s not tried to railroad the conversation or make decisions for you like other guys you’ve gone on dates with. Whenever a server approached the table, he would defer to you and your needs before his.

“You’ve been so wonderful to me tonight. Please let me repay you with coffee and dessert. If you’re up for it.”

Yoongi squeezes both your hands before letting them go and sitting back in his chair. “There is no need to ‘repay’ me,” he says, emphasizing the word repay. “But, I wouldn’t say no to a date after this date, say in fifteen minutes, coffee and dessert?”

“Fifteen minutes? Coffee and dessert?” You give him a thoughtful look, tapping your fingers against your chin. “Hmm. I think I’m available.” You both break into more fits of soft laughter, contrasting so highly to the high energy from before; it’s intimate, if laughing can be such a thing.

It’s easy being with Yoongi; he’s attentive and curious. “What made you want to open a coffee shop?” he asks as you unlock the door to the cafe.

“I liked the idea of having a space that could cater to people from all walks of life. Businessmen in a hurry? Get it to go. Students needing a place to study? I have a quiet corner for that. College professor looking for his daily decaf Americao fix? Would you look at that? I got that covered, too.” You usher him inside, closing and locking the door behind you. “It also doubles as a great place to have a private coffee and dessert date after a lovely dinner date.”

You watch as Yoongi looks around the cozy space, his attention ending on the mural wall. “What’s your favorite kind of coffee?”

“Would it be weird if I said I don’t like coffee?” you ask.

He glances at you from over his shoulder. “Really?”

You shrug. “I love the way it smells, though.”

“Acrylic?” Yoongi asks, nodding toward the mural.

“Good eye,” you assess, stepping behind the counter to start making the coffee. You grab two pecan cinnamon twirls from the dry storage where you keep extra treats to take up to your apartment at the end of each shift and pop them into the small convection oven along the back wall. “You teach art, but it might be presumptuous of me to assume you also create. So, do you?”

“Not nearly as much as I’d like to. Pastels and charcoal are my favorites to work with. I like the mildly messy, chaotic feel of them. There are few things better than the feeling of taking something so uncontrolled and turning it into a thing of beauty.”

“Charcoal, huh?” Your mind instantly goes to the framed collection of pieces you have in your apartment upstairs. “I can appreciate that.”

“Maybe I can show you sometime.” Yoongi turns from his appreciation of your mural to watch you work behind the counter. He gestures to a few frames hung up on either side of the giant menu on the wall. “Arfé, right?”

You glance up, moving with automated motions to load the portafilter into the espresso machine. “Oh,” you laugh. “Yeah. An experiment. I wanted to try something new and needed some new decor. I thought it was appropriately on theme.”

The half-dozen pieces are all made with swirls of various shades in brown and tan and depict a mix of cups, mugs, bags of grinds, lumps of sugar, and piles of roasted coffee beans.

“Very appropriate. They’re lovely. You’re an exceptional artist.” You’ve lost count of the amount of compliments Yoongi has paid you tonight. You might have been the one flattering him this morning, but it seems he’s making up for that now.

“Thank you. Truly. That means a lot coming from you.” The hiss of the brew machine fills the air, and the soft gurgle of espresso trickling into the small mug follows. “One decaf Americano for one of my best customers,” you say, carefully carrying the steaming cup over to a table beside Yoongi. “Please, sit.”

Yoongi settles at the table, bringing the cup of coffee up to his nose and giving it an appreciative sniff. “Wonderful,” he murmurs before taking a tentative sip. “Thank you, that hits the spot.”

“If you think the Americano is good, wait until you try this,” you say, scooping the twirls out of the oven and onto a plate. They’re perfectly warm and gooey. “You’ve never tried any of our pastries, have you?”

You sit across from him. The table is small enough that you could reach out and cup his cheek if you wanted, and set the plate on the table before Yoongi. He whistles low, “Wow, these do look amazing. Maybe I’ll become a pecan twirl and coffee guy every morning instead.”

Your eyes track his movements, watching as his fingers pinch and slightly sink into the edges of one of the twirls. Some of the warm glaze and cinnamon sugar filling squishes from between the layers.

Yoongi’s lips part and the tip of his tongue peaks over his bottom teeth as he brings the pastry up to take a bite. The moan he lets out surprises you both. His eyes flutter before landing on you and going wide. He chews methodically, his gaze not leaving yours. His tongue darts out, swiping over his lips before he swallows.

“Well?” you ask, settling your elbows on the table and leaning into him, expectant.

The smile that tugs at his lips is coy. “Might be one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth.” There is a heat in his gaze as his eyes search yours. “What other surprises do you have up your proverbial sleeve for me?”

“Now, if I told you, they wouldn’t be surprises anymore, would they?”

That makes him laugh. “Fair point. You know,” he glances around the coffee shop, “I never knew just what it was about this coffee shop I loved so much, but I think I’ve figured it out.”

“Yeah?” you say, feeling positively giddy.

“Mhm. So,” he mirrors your pose across the table, his elbows nearly touching your own, fingers toying with yours where they’re folded in the air in front of your face, “is it too soon to ask you on a second date?”

“I thought this was our second date.” You raise a teasing eyebrow, a smile quirking on your lips.

“A third then,” he offers, eyes hopeful.

Of course, you want to say yes. And in the spirit of trying to be coy and playful, you lean in with the full intent of showing him instead of telling him how much you want to go on another date.

Yoongi’s eyes flicker to your lips, watching as you deliberately lick them as you lean in a bit closer. Acceptance lies within their dark depths, a flash of hunger at the impending response that’s only a breath away.

As you advance, your elbows slide on the table, accidentally knocking the coffee cup. Liquid goes everywhere; it floods over the table and pours off the side…right into Yoongi’s lap.

“Oh fuck!” you yell, jumping up from the table and rushing around to his side. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance? Does it burn?”

Yoongi pushes back from the table, holding his arms up off his lap as he assesses the mess. “No harm done. It was already cooled off. It's just a bit of a mess, that’s all. I’m fine,” he laughs. “Truly, I promise. Do you have any towels or anything?”

“Oh god, your shirt, it’s going to stain,” you lament, staring at the dark splotch soaking through above his trousers. “Towels? Yes. Yes. Okay. And some baking soda. Come on, let’s hurry. Again, I’m so sorry!”

“Should we clean this up first?” he asks, motioning at the coffee-covered floor.

“I can mop in the morning. Please,” you fret, guilt making you a bit frantic and flustered.

Yoongi lets you lead him up the stairs in the back that go to your apartment. “You live here?” he questions. “No wonder you were coming out of the coffee shop earlier. That’s very cool.”

You make a noncommittal sound. “It’s cool if you like the smell of coffee and don’t mind rising early every day to open shop.”

It’s so hard to think right now, your mind solely focused on cleaning up the mess you’ve made of Yoongi’s clothes. That’s what you get for trying to be sly and answer his date question with a kiss. You’ll be lucky if he still wants that date now, surely.

The bathroom is barely big enough for the two of you. You insist Yoongi sit on the lip of the tub while you dig under the sink for the baking soda that you use for cleaning and removing your own coffee stains.

“Hey,” Yoongi says softly, grabbing your attention. You glance at him over your shoulder, bottom lip clamped between your teeth in an effort not to fall apart entirely. “I promise it’s okay, alright? You don’t have to stress over it. It’s just an accident. It's a pretty funny one if you ask me. If I’d have known we were getting wet on the first—I mean, second date, I would have planned accordingly.”

His words hang between you, full of static and charged with intention. He’s trying to lighten the mood…and it’s working. It’s also making you feel a certain kind of way. Words shouldn’t have the power to do that. Yet, here you are, flustered for a whole different reason now.

“Date’s not over yet,” you respond, unsure where the bold attitude came from, but you’ll take it. His eyes flicker with something like surprise mixed with desire, though it’s gone before you can really be sure. “Do you mind?” You gesture to his shirt. “It’ll be easier if I can soak it in the sink.”

Slowly, Yoongi undoes the buttons on his shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. Somehow, you weren’t expecting him to be naked underneath, but every open button reveals another swath of flesh. He shrugs out of the shirt, revealing a toned chest and taut belly. His nipples are hard, dark chips, standing out in contrast to his smooth, creamy skin. Yoongi is absolutely breathtaking.

In fact, you have to remind yourself to breathe, taking in a large lungful of air that’s so much it makes your chest ache. He holds the shirt out to you in offering. Your fingers tremble lightly as you take it, quickly turning back to the sink and the distraction of scrubbing at the stain.

Reading over the garment tag quickly, you make sure what you’re about to do is okay. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on your back, like heated dagger points pricking beneath your skin. You turn on the water, letting the tap run until it’s hot, before quickly swishing the area of the shirt covered in coffee under it. The hot water alone makes a world of difference, the dark liquid swirling away down the drain.

“Do you want my pants, too?” Yoongi asks, startling you.

Your eyes flick up to the mirror, looking at him through the reflection. He’s talking to you, but his attention is zeroed in on your backside. Suddenly, you’re intimately aware that your dress has ridden up dangerously high. You can feel the cool air of the bathroom kissing the crease between your thigh and asscheek.

Turning off the water, you slowly turn to face him. Your chest rises and falls as you try to take deep, even breaths, but with the way your heart is revving inside, it’s impossible to do so. “Let’s see the damage,” you say lightly, raising an eyebrow in question, giving him a chance to call you off.

When he doesn’t comment further, you close the distance to where he’s sitting and ease down onto your knees. You mentally tell yourself it’s so you can get a better look at the coffee that’s saturating the dark fabric, but you know better than that.

Being so close to him, you can feel the heat of his body. His chest rises and falls as rapidly as yours, and when you look up and meet his gaze, there is no mistaking the fire that you see blazing there. “Don’t think I forgot you still haven’t answered my question,” he murmurs, lips barely moving as he watches you.

You lift a hand, hooking your index finger under his chin and using it to angle his face toward yours. “I’d love that,” you respond, your lips brushing over his with every syllable.

He kisses you. Or maybe you kiss him. It’ll be something you tease each other over for many years to come. You open yourself to him, welcoming the glide of his tongue against yours. The kiss tastes mildly of coffee, yet for the first time in your life, you don’t mind the flavor.

“For me to take my pants off, or the date?” he teases, alternating between nipping and consuming kisses. Yoongi’s hands frame your face, holding you to him as he continues to ravage your mouth.

“Mm, both,” you manage to get out. “Definitely both.” Sliding your hands down his torso, you marvel at the softness of his skin and the already very prominent bulge that your fingers dance over as you try to get a grip on the button to his slacks.

Yoongi breaks away from the kiss long enough to help you with his pants, standing up from the edge of the tub and bringing you up with him. He toes off his shoes, leaving his pants puddled on top of them. “Good answer,” he chuckles.

You let out a tiny squeal as he wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs and hauls you up, your legs automatically winding around his waist. Thick erection pressed right against your panty-covered pussy, he slowly walks you out of the bathroom and into your adjoining room. You land on the bed with a soft oomph, Yoongi following you down. His weight is a comfort, settled over your body in a warm, hedonistic embrace.

“I’ll change classes,” you pant, flexing your hips against his. “As long as our next date is to an art gallery.”

“Is it weird for that to turn me on?” he responds, groaning as you roll your hips against him again. “The art part, not the dropping classes part. You don’t have to do that if it’s too much trouble. I know your schedule must be pretty set with the cafe.”

You press your hands against his chest, giving him a gentle push until he’s rolling over and you’re hovering over him. “I’ll make it work. I want to make it work. Everything tonight,” you pause and sit back on your heels, dragging your hands along his torso as you do, “I want more. You’re driving me crazy in the best of ways.”

“Says the woman who’s been running through my thoughts for the last several months now.” Yoongi’s lips part in a gasp, turning his last word into a breathly plea as you trace the tips of your fingers over his straining erection. The fabric of his grey boxer briefs is slightly sticky when you brush your thumb over the head.

“It reminds me of making art,” you casually say, curling your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and tugging until he lifts his hips and lets you drag them down. You toss them to the side, marveling at the glory now resting against his belly. Yoongi’s cock is a gentle upward curve, all smooth steel and thick veins. It throbs, bouncing against his stomach, leaving behind a thick smear of precum. “The way you make me feel.”

“Art?” he asks, breathless. His eyes flutter behind his glasses, his chest hollowing as he sucks in ragged breaths.

“Being with you gives me the same feeling as viewing a Duncanson or a Matisse, calm and full of joy. Though, you can also make me feel the chaos of a Kandinsky when you touch me.” To emphasize your words, you wrap your fingers around his girth, angling it up, watching the emotions on his face. The tip of his tongue works at the corner of his mouth, lips parted with every pant and soft moan. “Is this okay?” you ask, leaning down and gently blowing over the leaking tip before tentatively giving it a kitten lick.

“More than,” Yoongi moans. His eye slide closed as you wrap your lips around the head and suck. The flavor of him bursts across your tongue. You can’t help but moan yourself at the idea you’ve made him like this, hard and leaking.

Working as much of his cock into your mouth as you can, you delight in the shuddering convulses you can feel from his body as he loses himself in the sensations you’re bringing him. Yoongi always seems like such a collected individual. He still appeared so well-kept even when he stuttered over his words asking you on the date this morning. Now, though, he’s unraveling into a puddle of debauchery.

It’s a satisfying feeling, similar to when you get into a perfect rhythm when working on a project, bringing him to the edge. You work your mouth and hand in tandem, never leaving an inch of his cock free of your touch.

“Mmm,” you moan, the head of his cock resting in the back of your throat. Yoongi jerks under you, half raising onto his elbows, his eyes zeroing in on where you’re wrapped around him.

His fingers twist into the duvet, bottom lip puffy and flushed as he worries it with his teeth. “I’m going to cum,” he grunts, throwing his head back and moaning his pleasures, deep and throaty.

You quicken your pace, hollowing your cheeks as you suck in earnest. Yoongi cries out a second before liquid warmth floods your mouth. It’s greedy, the way you swallow and continue to lave your tongue over him, eliciting tiny tremors and more moans.

“Just like art,” you whisper, finally letting his cock slip from between your lips. You’re riding your own high, wet and throbbing between your thighs. You can feel the ache in your clit, begging to be touched. All it would take is a few seconds, a few well-placed swirls of your fingers, and you know you’d be floating in orgasmic bliss.

Before you can even think of bringing your hand between your thighs to find relief, Yoongi is sitting up and urging you backward. Your back hits the mattress, and he settles on his side beside you. Somewhere between there and here, he pulled off his glasses. Despite having just found his release, his eyes are still so full of hunger and desire.

“May I?” he asks, pressing a hand against your inner thigh. You nod, eyes locked with his as he slowly trails his hand upward until his fingers brush over the soaked fabric of your panties. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in to capture your mouth in a languid kiss. Your lids flutter closed, consumed as you are by his touch.

Yoongi takes his time, toying with the edge of your panties before tugging them down past your knees. They pool around your ankles as he pushes your thighs apart, exposing your weeping pussy to the air of the bedroom.

“Yoongi.” His name is half moan, half curse as he brings his hand back up and cups your heat. The meat of his palm rests against your clit, right where you need to be touched, but the pressure isn’t enough to satisfy.

“An exquisite work of art.” His lips strum against yours, plucking and teasing just the way his fingers do through your wetness. The tips of his fingers briefly kiss your clit, dancing away before returning; a slow build of decadent pleasure.

It’s not above you to beg. “Please. Yoongi, please!”

“Open your eyes, look at me. Let me watch you fall apart so I can brand it into my memory.”

You snap open your eyes the exact moment he slides two slender fingers into your pussy, thumb finally giving the needed pressure to your clit. You’re so worked up that your body pulses around the intrusion, a tiny fluttering orgasm rippling through you.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

Yoongi gives you a wicked, knowing smile. “It’s not over yet, beautiful,” he assures you in a whispered promise.

His fingers are long, able to reach the perfect, special place inside you. As he strokes his fingertips, moving them in an undulating wave, his thumb swirls in a circle around your clit.

The next orgasm is less surprising, building to a heightened peak that has you crying out as you careen over the edge, entirely at Yoongi’s mercy. “Yoongi, fuck!” you babble, your whole body alive with sensations of pleasure.

“That’s it,” he coaxes. “So beautiful.”

Your body shudders around his hand, his fingers slowing down their rhythm until you finally recover. The slide of his fingers along your walls as he withdraws makes you wish he’d put them back in…or maybe something else. The bereft feeling lasts only a moment before Yoongi gathers you into his arms. He’s completely naked, and you’re still wearing your dress, but you feel just as exposed as he is…only, it’s your soul on display for him instead of your body.

You wait for the feeling of vulnerability to filter in, that broken feeling of uncertainty. But, it doesn’t come. The only thing you feel is complete and utter content. It’s not even the post-orgasmic bliss that’s clouding it, either. No, there’s plenty of that, but it feels different; he feels different.

“Yoongi,” you begin, resting your cheek on his chest. You want to confess to him, but the words get choked in your throat. Is it too soon? Are you completely crazy? What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Fuck. Here goes nothing. “This feels good, really good. Is it too soon to say…?”

“Too soon to say?” he prompts.

You absently trace haphazard swirls and lines across his chest, trying to think of how to word it. “I, well…”

“Too soon to say that I think possibly, maybe, I’m falling for you?” You look up at him, surprised by his words. Yoongi looks at you with so much warmth and affection in his eyes. “Because that’s exactly how I feel, too.”

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2023-12-30 ColorMePurplex2

#min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi imagines #coffeeshop au #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #bts yoongi #professor yoongi #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts imagines #micdropnet #bangtanwhq

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blindmagdalena · 7 months

Text

The Cuckoo's Nest

18+ 6.3k siren!homelander x f!reader. dub/noncon, infidelity, mind/emotional manipulation, gaslighting, voice kink, masturbation, penetrative sex, fingering, blood, gore, cannibalism? creampie, stalking, minor character death, praise kink, good girl/pretty girl.

The gentle and pleasing voice of the cuckoo bird has made it a renowned herald of spring, and perhaps one of the most famous of songbirds. One would never guess merely by looking at it that it is a predatory parasite.

What you thought would be a dream job working for Vought as Homelander's very own secretary turns into a surreal waking nightmare as reality and dreams converge in a confusing mess. The only coherent thread that strings it all together is the alluring pull of Homelander's unnatural voice.

written for Monsterlander Mania. fair warning, this fic is fairly dark! thank you so much @anon-nee for this amazing banner art. 🖤

When you were hired as Homelander’s secretary, the gig had been pitched as a cushy desk job. Now that he’s the new face of Vought, and Ashley the company CEO, he needs someone who will keep his day to day affairs in order. Apparently, you’re just the person for that job.

“You probably won’t see much of him,” Ashley tells you distractedly. She rarely ever looks away from her phone for long.

“There are two landlines on your desk. The left one is for general business, and the one on the right, the red one, is exclusively for him. Don’t make calls on it. He has the number memorized, he’s the only one who’ll ever call it, so make sure you always answer it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you say diligently.

Glancing over, Ashley does a double take. “Aren’t you married? Where’s your ring?”

You falter, looking down at your hands. “Oh,” you say, taking said ring out of your pocket. “I put hand cream on earlier, I just forgot to put it back on.”

“Make sure you keep that on,” she says, giving you a critical look before returning her gaze to her phone. “He’s particular.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Nevertheless, you make sure to always keep your wedding ring on while you’re at work.

True to Ashley’s word, you see neither hide nor hair of Homelander during your first three days. You make his appointments, you take calls on his behalf, and you organize his bookings.

In your office, directly across from your desk, hangs a borderline comically oversized portrait of him that stares relentlessly at you as you work. You often find yourself staring back at it, the back of your neck prickling with the irrational feeling of being watched.

You know that it’s just in your head, but you can’t help but be put off by the feeling. Sometimes you consider covering the portrait, but the last thing you want is for the man to appear out of the blue and see a blanket thrown over his likeness.

Your instinct proves correct.

“Hey you,” comes a voice like silk. You startle, looking up from your desk to find a shock of red, white and blue standing in your doorway, his arms folded casually behind his back.

“Homelander,” you say, nearly choking on the name. “Sir, hello. I’m–”

“I know,” he interjects smoothly, cape swaying behind him as he passes the threshold, making his way over to your desk. That voice. He’s not even said five words to you yet, but it lingers in your ears like warm honey, causing a flush of warmth to roll through you. You convince yourself that you’re just embarrassed to have been caught so thoroughly off guard. “My new secretary. Sorry I couldn’t stop by sooner.”

“Oh, there’s no need to apologize, sir. I know better than most how–” you hesitate, watching as he takes a turn and begins walking directly towards you, circling behind your desk. “–busy you are,” you finish, looking up at him as he looms over you. You wonder if you should stand, but he’s so close to you now, you’d just knock right into him.

He smells good. Earthy and slightly sweet, like vetiver.

“That’s pretty,” he remarks, gesturing to your ring finger. “Sapphire, huh? Unusual choice.”

You swallow, trying desperately to reign in the cadence of your breath. Your heart is pattering as wildly as rain drops. “Thank you. My husband chose it, it’s his birthstone.”

To which Homelander giggles. It’s a delighted, slightly off-putting little noise. “P’wow, he gave you a ring with his birthstone, huh? Really staking his claim,” he says, reaching down to take your hand. He looks at you just before he makes contact. His eyes are even bluer than the stone in your ring. “May I?”

Dumbstruck, you nod, lifting your hand and placing it in his upturned palm. He sits on your desk and turns your hand this way and that, watching the way your ring catches the light. Eventually, his gaze slips back to yours. “Happily married?”

“Very,” you say immediately, your throat suddenly dry.

He smiles, and only then do you notice how unusually sharp his canines are.

“Good. Glad to hear it,” he says, giving your hand a gentle pat before he lets it go. You immediately drop your hand into your lap, touching your ring. You feel strangely lightheaded all of a sudden, unable to look away from his piercing gaze. Even when he isn’t speaking, you can still hear the warmth of his tone echoing all around you.

“Well, it was a pleasure to meet you,” he says, standing from your desk with preternatural elegance, as if he’d floated more than lifted himself.

“Please, the pleasure was all mine,” you say with a smile, somewhat dazed. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

He looks pleased as punch at that. “I’ll try not to be such a stranger, hmm?” he purrs, reaching out to give your shoulder a friendly squeeze. You feel the rumble of his voice roll all the way down your spine and into the core of you, leaving a light throb nestled between your thighs.

“I’d like that. Thank you, sir,” you say, your voice sounding dreamy and distant in your own ears.

Flashing that same toothy grin, he shoots you a wink before he turns face with a slight flourish of his cape, the fabric billowing in his wake as he takes his leave, disappearing down the hall.

The second he’s gone, it’s like the spell of his presence breaks and you come crashing back to yourself, eyes wide. A hot broil of shame rolls through you when you realize how aroused you are, that throb lingering. You’re equal parts shocked and disgusted with yourself, sickened by the hot prickle lingering on every inch of your skin.

Holy shit. What the fuck was that?

You wind up leaving an hour early, eager to be home. The shame makes you desperate to see your husband, as if touching him will erase the residual traces of the effect that Homelander had on your body.

It doesn’t. In fact, that feeling of being watched follows you all the way home, the feel of it becoming a specter haunting your house. When your husband seeks intimacy from you in your bed later that night, you push his hands away.

“Sorry,” you say softly, shaken. “Not tonight.”

Your body still remembers him too viscerally.

That night, you dream of songbirds.

Two days later, the right landline rings for the first time. You stare blankly at it, your stomach immediately twisting into knots. It rings, once, twice, nearly a third time before you hurriedly snatch it up off the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” comes Homelander’s familiar drawl. His voice falls over you like a wash of sunlight, warm and heavy. “Thought you might be ignoring me for a second there.”

“No, no, never. Sorry, sir,” you say, reaching for your water. You take a quick sip. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing too dire, just a little shuffling. Can you bump tomorrow’s 4pm to Thursday for me?” He asks, voice slipping around your throat like a noose. The press of it makes you slightly breathless.

“Of course,” you say, balancing the phone on your shoulder while you manipulate your tablet. “That’s no problem at all, done.”

“That’s my girl,” he says, the phone turning his voice into an intimate rumble in your ear.

You blink, feeling like your mouth is full of cotton. You can’t seem to form a response.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” He asks, and you swear up and down you can hear a smile in his voice. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Was there anything else, sir?” You manage to blurt out, words leaving you in a clumsy spill. You’re breathing shallowly, mouth parched. You snatch up your water and take another quick sip. There’s a long pause on the line, the silence so deafening you think for a moment you must have missed something. “Sir?”

“Touch yourself.”

Your heart falls into your stomach, but that feeling is nothing compared to the unbidden liquid heat that those words erupt throughout your body.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he says patiently. Amused, even. “Touch yourself. Take your hand–no, no, the left one,” he says in response to your right hand drifting down. You weren’t even aware you’d started moving. You swap the phone from your left hand to your right, and grab hold of your thigh with your left hand.

“I don’t understand,” you say, the words feeling as thick as molasses on your tongue. “Why are you–”

“That’s good. Now, move those pretty fingers in. Just like that,” he directs, and to your own distant horror, your hand moves, sliding between your legs and lifting up your skirt, your sparkling ring disappearing beneath it. You press your middle finger directly to your beating clit and let go a shuddering breath, massaging it through your panties.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Show me how you like it, mm? Bet your husband still doesn’t know the first fuckin’ thing about how to make you feel good. He ever watch you do this to yourself, ever bother to learn how you like to be touched?”

Disoriented, you shake your head. Your hips reflexively lift to meet the smooth figure-eights you rub yourself with. You’re sure you’d agree to anything he said so long as he keeps talking.

“Didn’t think so. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, sweetheart. I know exactly what you need.”

The heat of his voice envelops you, makes your whole body feel aflame. You’ve never been so sensitive in your life, already shuddering and squirming in your seat from the intensity of sensation building beneath your fingers.

“Slow down. There’s no rush. You’re as good as mine now.”

His voice is like velvet but his words sting, needling something inside you that squirms. You screw your eyes shut and shake your head more fervently. “No, no, m’not… I don’t…”

“Shhhhh,” he hushes, the hiss of it like a serpent in your ear. “Give it up for me, sweetheart.”

A whimper escapes your throat, the noise all but choked out of you. You can’t move, save for the increasingly frantic stroke of your fingers. His voice is a physical caress that slips down the line of your throat, between your breasts, slinking in serpentine patterns until it spills over your fingers and–

You gasp awake, staring wide-eyed at your blurry ceiling as wave after wave of pure euphoria crashes over you, stealing your capacity for breath. You ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm in a state of delirium, the shadows on your ceiling dancing like a voyeuristic crowd. You’re not sure if it takes seconds, minutes or hours to end, your perception of time distorted by the sheer intensity of sensation.

Looking to your side, panting, you see your husband sleeping soundly beside you. His snores are faint and peaceful. The curtains of your balcony door billow softly with the night’s breeze.

Your day comes back to you in a slow blur. The phone call was real, you’re sure of it… Aren’t you? Reaching for your phone, you hurriedly log into your Vought calendar and check the schedule. Sure enough, in your history, you can see that you bumped his next day R&D meeting to Thursday. That was real.

You wrack your brain for the details of your day, trying to piece together how you got from there to here, and whether or not any of Homelander’s voice cooing lewd commands in your ear was real.

It couldn’t have been.

The more the dream fades from your mind, the more you remember the rest of your day. You remember hanging up the phone, finishing your work day as per usual, and going home to your husband. Though it’s all something of a strange blur, the memories are there.

Even so, the dream somehow feels more real than any of it.

It’s 5am and you doubt you’ll be sleeping again. You get up early, shower, and make breakfast all before your husband even makes it to the kitchen. Your dreams and the haze of yesterday fade with the rising sun, as all dreams and memories often do.

You’re in the process of putting your dishes away when he walks in, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “You got an early start today?” He asks, biting back a yawn.

It’s cute. He’s cute. You feel an irrational spike of guilt.

It was just a dream.

“Didn’t sleep well,” you admit, kissing him on the cheek. You wrinkle your nose. “Oof, morning breath,” you say playfully, but there’s an edge of truth to it. You can’t explain it, but there’s something off about the way your husband smells this morning.

Your mind drifts wistfully to the pleasant memory of sweet vetiver.

By the time you make it to work, your morning is nothing but a distant recollection at the peripheral of your consciousness.

Nonetheless, the sight of that bright red landline still makes you blush.

You don’t see Homelander again for another three days. At least, not at work. In reality, you’re more aware of him than you’ve ever been in your life. His face is everywhere, be it TV or billboards. You see him in the grocery store, the post office, and even the goddamn DMV. You never really noticed until now how inescapable Homelander truly is.

It’s no wonder he continues to appear in your dreams, too. You can’t seem to remember any of them very well, but you know without a doubt each time you wake that you were haunted by sapphire blue eyes and a voice as decadent as sin.

Sometimes you recall a gorgeous view of the city hundreds of feet in the air. Other times you recall a blue bed, but the thing you remember most is mirrors. You see yourself clearly in them. You see him with you.

All the while a budding friction between you and your husband continues to grow. You find yourself telling him more often to brush his teeth, shower, anything to combat this bizarre stink he’s taken on. Some days it’s so bad, you swear you smell rotting meat before you realize it’s him. Even the sound of his voice grates on you, both rough and shrill in a way that agitates you further and further into isolation in the house you once happily shared.

On that third day at work, you’re penciling in a meeting regarding a potential collaboration with Superplastic when a rhythmic knock at the door jostles you from focus. You look up to call them in, but Homelander is already striding inside, stealing the words right off the tip of your tongue.

“Goooood afternoon,” he drawls, the door falling shut behind him. For as much as you’ve continued to see and hear of him, you had forgotten how different he sounds in person, the force of his presence instantly a weight upon your body.

Your brain completely malfunctions. Night after night of erotic whispers suddenly crashes down upon you in visceral detail, how multiple times you woke to the throes of an orgasm with his voice still echoing in your ears. Humiliation and arousal flood you in equal measure, turning your skin hot.

Homelander smiles at you from the other side of your desk all the while.

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks slyly. The question hurdles you backwards in time to the moment you were seated in this exact spot with him whispering downright pornographic filth into your ear, coaxing you into touching yourself into a frenzy.

It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was a dream.

“Good afternoon, sir,” you finally manage to say, wincing internally at the sound of your own voice.

“Don’t be so formal,” he says, giving a dismissive little wave. “C’mon, call me Homelander,” he says, once again circling around behind your desk. Your eyes widen slightly, mouth bone dry when you try to swallow. He sweeps his cape out of the way before taking a leisurely seat on your desk. He lifts his brows, pinning you with an expectant stare. “Go on, try again.”

“Uh, good afternoon, Homelander,” you correct yourself. His proximity to you is making it hard to focus–there it is again, the scent of vetiver. He smells like summer grass warmed by the hot sun, and he has a gravitational pull to him that has you leaning subconsciously towards him.

His smile widens. “Much better.” His eyes narrow a touch, flickering down briefly before snapping back up to meet your gaze.

“So! How’s the office, everything nice and cozy?” He asks, one hand braced next to him on your desk, the other gesturing vaguely about. Before you can even answer, he points to your lap.

“Chair good? I know how important lumbar support is when you’re sitting all day.”

Discussing your lumbar support needs with Homelander certainly had not been on your bingo sheet.

“Uhm, yes, it’s–” Again, before you can get a real answer in, he’s sitting up and making sweeping motions with his hand.

“Let’s see, up, up, lemme take this bad boy for a spin,” he says, making your heart leap up into your throat when he catches you by your waist and effortlessly lifts you up out of your office chair, turning to set you on your feet. With a flourish of his cape, he drops down into your chair, legs spread wide.

You gawk momentarily, watching him spin side to side.

“Oop, there’s that lumbar,” he says, leaning back into it. He’s grinning at you all the while, the moment entirely surreal. You huff an incredulous little laugh, crossing your arms. He’s a little ridiculous, you realize, but personable.

Have you been the problem this whole time, turning him into something he’s not? You’re starting to lose yourself in your thoughts as you watch him.

“How about we test the suspension? C’mere,” he says, giving his thigh a pat. “Sit.”

You snap back to attention, your smile falling away. “Pardon?”

“Sit,” he says again, his smile a predatory curve of his lips. He pats his thigh again “Right here.”

You look down at his lap and then back up, your ears buzzing with the timbre of his voice. Logically, you know that what he’s just demanded is wildly inappropriate, yet the silken tone he said it in leaves you utterly agreeable. Slowly, you lower yourself into his lap, uncertain of why you wouldn’t abide by such a request.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he coos, bracketing your waist with his arms.

”That’s better, isn’t it?” He asks, his hands moving up and down your thighs. You shiver, a chill running down your spine despite the fervid heat of his body pressed along the back of yours.

A distant voice in the back of your mind whispers it wasn’t a dream, though you can barely hear it over the pounding of your own blood in your ears.

“Relax,” he murmurs, the word a warm huff on your neck.

Like a marionette whose strings have been cut, your body goes slack against him. Your heart continues to race even as a wave of calm sweeps through you, the two sensations frantically battling one another. Eventually, however, your pulse succumbs to the warmth seeping from him, and you begin to calm, soothed by the slow sweeps of his palms and the way he’s muttering sweet nothings into your ear.

“Good girl,” he breathes, the smile audible in his voice. “That’s it. Feels good, hmm?” His hands move more firmly on your thighs, closer to a massage.

You make a thin noise of pleasure, tipping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

“When I tell you… that I have been looking forward to this,” he murmurs, lips brushing your neck.

“But I had to be sure you were the one. Most people start to go insane after the first night, maybe the second, but not you.” His teeth, sharp as razors, delicately graze your throat. “You’ve been… perfect.”

“What’re you talking about?” You ask, feeling slightly slow and disoriented.

Homelander chuckles, the rumble of it moving from his chest through your back.

“My voice. It tears apart people's minds… But not yours. Why is that?” His lips are warm on your skin, trailing lower. He lifts a hand to pull your collar askew and kiss at the exposed crook of your neck.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, eyes flickering shut. His mouth feels incredible, the slight dampness that his lips leave behind making you especially sensitive to the air as he exposes you to it. It’s difficult to focus on anything other than the drag of his mouth.

You don’t even realize he’s unbuttoned your shirt and slipped it off of your shoulders until he’s kissing that newly revealed skin, nipping playfully at your bra strap.

“Here I was thinking you were just a pretty, tasty little thing… Turns out you’re so much more,” he purrs between kisses. A jolt of pain makes you gasp and then whimper, the sting of it soothed by the way his tongue drags over the spot afterwards.

It takes you a beat to comprehend that he’s just bitten the junction between your neck and shoulder, sunk his sharp teeth in so deep you smell the faint tang of blood.

“Turns out you were meant for me all along,” he says between slow drags of his tongue, lapping at your soft skin. He moans for the taste of it. “Watching you writhe in your bed, wanting me, touching yourself while your useless husband slept. I thought I was the one going fucking insane.”

Comprehension is a slow, creeping thing to your addled mind. “You were watching me. The dreams, you–”

“Whispered them into your ear while you slept,” he interjects, kissing at the shell of your ear. “You took to ‘em like gasoline takes to a spark,” he says, that voice of his wrapping around your body and limbs like a dozen slithery tendrils.

The touch of his voice is just as tangible as his hands sliding up your thighs, your stomach, cupping your breasts through your bra. You let out a shuddering moan.

“Every night, I was so sure you’d break. But you didn’t. You won’t.”

His confession brings back images in a flood, untangling dreams from memories. You remember a silhouette standing over you, you remember piercing red eyes glowing in the dark, and you remember the filth he spoke over you that made your body twist and sweat and come harder than you ever have.

All of it intertwines with this very moment, with his hands on you, his body against yours. It has you moaning, writhing back against him the same way you did in your bed beneath his gaze.

“Call your husband,” he tells you, hand slipping between your legs, hooking under your skirt.

“What?” You rasp, clutching at his wrists. You shiver at the hot slide of his tongue just behind your ear.

“Call your husband,” he repeats, thick gloved finger rubbing sparks between your thighs. “Tell him you’re coming home early. Tell him to wait for you in the bedroom.”

Leaning forward, Homelander snatches the left landline off the desk and pulls it into your lap, resting it atop his hand while he fingers you in slow, precise circles.

You pick up the receiver and dial unsteadily. It doesn’t sound like something you shouldn’t do. Even as it rings, you feel no dread or apprehension. Just the drive to obey the voice cradling your mind and body so very sweetly.

“Hi,” you exhale when he answers the phone, screwing your eyes shut. It takes everything in you just to focus on speaking.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m coming–” your breath catches as Homelander pushes your panties aside and breaches you with a single finger, sliding into your soaked pussy in one slow, continuous slide.

“I’m coming home early today,” you say, holding both the receiver and Homelander’s wrist in a white-knuckle grip. “Can you wait in the bedroom for me?”

He’s thoroughly confused, but all that does is frustrate you. His voice comes through ugly and nasally over the phone, grating through your nerves instantly. You feel the urge to yell at him, but the breath is stolen from your lungs by the sweet press of Homelander’s thick gloved finger crooking inside you, stroking exactly the right spot to make you see stars.

“Just–just do it, please? Wait in the bedroom, I’ll be–I’ll be home soon.”

You slam down the phone just in time, letting out a cry, lurching forward. The phone tumbles from your lap with a clatter and Homelander catches you with an arm across your chest, pinning you back against his chest.

“Good girl, that’s it. Give it up for me. Lemme feel that pretty pussy come,” he moans, grinding up against you, the sound of his finger pumping into you obscenely loud and wet.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Whet my appetite. Gimme something before it’s time to fucking eat.”

You come loudly, clenching your legs tightly around his hand. He stops just to feel you tighten and convulse through his glove, his lips and teeth and tongue all wreaking havoc at your throat.

“Fuck,” he sighs, followed by the low rumble of a chuckle. Your thighs shake as he pulls his hand away. You can smell the heady smell of your own slick when he brings his finger to his mouth and sucks the taste of you from it, the sound lewd in your ear.

“You even taste pretty,” he hums, voice frayed like a growl. There’s an inhuman split to his voice, like there’s three of them layered over top of each other.

The whole world feels like it’s spinning. You have no center of gravity, just the sensation of movement as Homelander effortlessly maneuvers you up into his arms. Your head lolls against his chest, vision swimming.

Warm lips press sweetly to your forehead. “Rest up, pretty girl,” he murmurs. The words instantly make you drowsy. “I’ll wake you up when I’m done.”

The world slips into darkness. The last thing you’re aware of is the feeling of flying.

When you come back to consciousness, the darkness remains. You recognize your bedroom ceiling above you, familiar shadows dancing across it, beckoning you awake.

A dream…?

Your limbs are leaden, weighed down to the bed. You try desperately to untangle the fantastical from what is real, walking backwards through what you remember. Touch, smell, sound, and pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever known. You remember Homelander’s hands on you, in you, his body and voice all around you, the sound of–

Sound. What is that sound? It’s close to you, but you can’t move your head to see. It’s a series of wet, soft squelching noises akin to someone manipulating piles of drenched laundry. Then you hear a crunch like a tree branch snapping, and you start to recognize another sound; panting breaths followed by an erotic moan of pure indulgence.

You open your mouth to speak, but your throat is too tight, and nothing escapes it. As you come back to yourself more and more, you realize the bed beneath you is warm and wet.

You manage to force a noise from the back of your throat, a strained sound born of the effort to move. Next to you, something shifts.

“There’s my pretty girl,” coos Homelander’s familiar voice. Your heart crashes against your ribcage, the only part of you that can freely move expressing the shock of hearing his voice here in your bed.

“Shhhshhhh, no need for that,” he murmurs, moving into your line of sight, hovering over you. His face is spattered in something dark, but when he smiles his sharp teeth are white and bright, even in the dim moonlight of your bedroom. His voice soothes your frayed nerves almost instantly.

“Take a deep breath,” he says. You do so easily, as if you were never paralyzed. “Good. Perfect timing,” he tells you, his tongue sliding along his teeth, his lips, threads of saliva stretched between his teeth snapping. “I’m still plenty hungry for you.”

He kisses you, swinging his leg over to envelop your body with his. All at once you can move again, your bones no longer weighed down. You relax beneath the press of his lips and the weight of him, exhaling a breath through your nose.

“Kiss me,” he mumbles fervently. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him with everything you have, your lips sliding slickly against one another. He licks the taste of copper into your mouth.

Blood, a distant part of you realizes. Whatever horror you should feel is replaced by building excitement, his touch reigniting heat throughout your body. Like gasoline takes to a spark.

His lips move to the corner of your mouth, your jaw, trailing bloodied kisses down your throat. He has less patience for your clothes now than he did in your office, tearing your shirt and bra from your body with a feral noise. His hands are upon you instantly, spreading the blood on his hands down your chest, massaging your breasts until he works a needy moan out of you.

“Can’t believe I almost ate you, too,” he says with a smile. Before you can respond, he leans down to suck your nipple into his mouth, hands sliding lower. You gasp and push your hands into his hair, slicking it back with what sprayed into it. His mouth is inferno hot on your skin, goosebumps erupting over every inch of you. His tongue is a devilish thing, working your nipple in circles, but it’s the light pinch of his teeth that make your whole body lurch.

He makes quick work of your clothing from the waist down, too, stripping you until there’s nothing left between you and the blood soaked fabric of his suit. His hand disappears from you, and you hear a metallic click followed by the hiss of a zipper. He nudges your legs apart to settle properly between them, pulling off of your breast with a satisfied pop. He licks his lips of the blood he had spread to your breast, eyes wild and glowing faintly red.

“Let’s get rid of this while we’re at it,” he says, lifting your hand. He kisses the tip of your ring finger before taking it into his mouth, gaze flickering up to meet yours as he takes it all the way down past your knuckle, your ring disappearing past his lips. He catches the metal band with his teeth and drags it slowly off, sucking your finger clean of it. A chill runs down your spine at the crunch the metal gives as he effortlessly chews and swallows it.

You stare in numb, abject shock, but even that rapidly fades to the fires rolling through you.

Hands on your thighs, he easily pulls your ass into his lap. You look down to see his cock freed from his suit pants, thick and nicely curved. He bends over you, hitching your legs up over his shoulder, and you feel the flat curve of the bottom of his cock press against your cunt. He grins down at you, rocking his hips to grind through the slick mess he’s made of you.

“Let’s see if you feel as good as you taste,” he says, claiming your lips once more. He pulls his hips back, and you feel the head of his cock drooling precome as it slides over your clit, down to your soaked cunt. The dull stretch of it splitting you open burns, has you keening against his lips. He kisses you again and again and again.

“That’s it, baby. Open up for me. Lemme feel that perfect pussy,” he grits out, voice frayed at the edges like he’s finally beginning to lose that cocky composure of his. Even still, his voice retains that otherworldly aspect to it. He bottoms out with a low moan, hips flush to your body.

“Oh fffffuck,” he groans, cock throbbing against the velvety walls of your cunt. You can feel the pulse of him, even more so when you squeeze. It gives you an unexpected and intoxicating shot of power when doing that makes him gasp. “Perfect. My perfect fuckin’ match, fuck. I knew you would be, I knew you were made for me,” he babbles, bordering on incoherence as he starts to thrust, gripping your ass with one hand while the other goes to the headboard, slamming it against the wall with each snap of his hips.

“H-Homelander,” you moan, tangling both hands in his hair, dragging your nails harshly down his scalp, the back of his neck, throwing your head back against your pillow.

He gives your ass a sharp slap just to feel the way your cunt clenches with it, a growl rolling from his throat.

“Come with me,” he demands, instantly sending the pressure building in you into a soar. He moves faster, deeper, each slam punching out pitchy noises from you. Every drag of his cock feels like a spark inside you, like the strike of a match igniting stars in your peripheral vision. You come with a near scream, nails biting fruitlessly into Homelander’s skin.

He rides your orgasm fiercely, fucking you into the bloody mess of your bed until he, too, succumbs to the clench of your cunt. He lets out a guttural cry, the wood of your headboard snapping in his grasp as his release floods you, so hot that it nearly burns.

You’re both panting into each other's mouths, lips occasionally brushing. There’s a possessive growl to the edge of Homelander’s breaths, as if warning anything that might hear of the danger of approaching.

“You’re mine now, you understand?” He says lowly, his velveteen voice hoarse, almost animalistic. “My match, my mate, mine.”

Deliriously, you nod, mind still lost to the aftershocks of your climax, your pussy quivering around the girth of his cock. It’s not enough for Homelander, who gives another sharp thrust, knocking an overstimulated moan out of you. “Do you understand?”

“I understand,” you gasp, meeting his gaze. His harsh expression softens at that, the crimson glow fading from his eyes, leaving only that familiar ocean blue in its wake. He kisses you leisurely, but with no less hunger. He lets your legs slip carefully from his shoulders, but remains buried deep inside you, staking his claim as thoroughly as possible. He kisses your neck, makes you wince when he sucks at the mark he bit into your skin.

“You got no idea how long I’ve been looking for you,” he mumbles, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You stroke your fingers through his hair, soaking in the feeling of his superhuman body thrumming against yours. You tighten your grip in his hair and lift his head, bringing his gaze up to meet yours. He looks curiously at you until that curiosity flips to surprise as you kiss him, earning a pleased little hum from him.

When you part, his surprise has melted away into something dazed and soft. Something like love, or maybe satiation. The two look so very similar.

Homelander kisses you a while longer before he nestles down against you.

Your head lolls to the side for the first time, and only then do you see the full scope of the horror resting next to you; bones jut out from the mess of viscera and meat, shredded clothing thick with blood and innards. It looks like the work of a rabid animal, something vicious and hungry.

You know instantly that the mess is all that remains of your former husband.

It occurs to you that you should feel a dozen different awful things about the pile of gore splayed out on your bed, but ultimately, the only thought that lingers is how he finally suits that rotten meat smell.

Looking back to the ceiling, you continue to comb your fingers through Homelander’s hair. His weight is a comfortable thing upon you, and beneath the smell of gore, you’re soothed by the gentle, warm scent of vetiver. Your eyelids grow heavy, and within minutes, you drift to sleep.

When you wake, there is no tang of blood heavy in the air. You sit up in a bed that is both alien and familiar. It isn’t until you see the mirrors around you that you realize that this is the bed from your dreams.

You feel warm, despite the early morning chill beyond the blankets. You feel a tug, and as you look down, Homelander pulls you back down into his arms.

“Mornin’, pretty girl.”

“Morning,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him. He hums pleasantly as you touch him, your hands roaming the naked scape of his body, testing that he’s real. You draw back, brows furrowed.

“Everything alright?” He asks, his voice as rich and creamy as ever.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, a touch uncertain. “Weird dreams.”

He smiles, bringing your hand up to kiss. “Well, you’re awake now.”

Somehow, you’re not so certain.

Regardless, you huff a little laugh and snuggle back into his arms.

“Love you,” you say, losing yourself to the familiar comfort of a partner in your arms, in your bed, in your heart. The longer you’re there, the more the dreams fade away, replaced with the reality of your waking world and the sweet smell of vetiver.

Homelander squeezes you to his chest, stroking idly up and down your back with his knuckles. You can hear the smile in his voice as he returns, “I love you, too.”

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #terato #monster x human #monster romance #monsterlander mania #my writing #Y'ALL THIS KNOCKED ME ON MY ASS LOL #dark fic

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sat0sugu-angst · 1 year

Text

Fight Me, Fuck Me

a/n: happy valentiiiiiine's day!! Sorry this is a lil late i ended up picking up a shift at work so I wasn't able to finish it until this evening (which is kinda ironic ig but whatever). I seen a vid kinda similar (but less horny) on tt n couldn't resist imagining you and bkg getting in a fight on date night and lowkey being all hot n bothered with how yall are mean to each other 🙈 then w V-day around the corner I thought why the hell not lmao

wc: 3.5k

cw: afab!reader, reader is described as feminine but no pronouns are used, prohero!bkg, reader has a healing quirk and works at the hospital, yall can be toxic but that's why it's fun, established relationship, pet names (babe, my love), bakugo pays a lot of attention to your ass and thighs, reader and bkg are switchy asf, multiple orgasms, creampie, squirting, light spanking

all characters aged up +24

MDNI

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You were silent as you continued doing your makeup, looking past yourself in the mirror to find red eyes focused on you.

Considering it was Katsuki, there wasn't a lot of aggression in his expression, but still, his eyes on you pissed you off. "Can I help you?" You asked, your attitude seeping into your tone.

He sneered, pushing off the bed and walking into the bathroom. "Not unless you can hurry that lil' ass up." He shot back. "We're gonna be late."

You and your boyfriend had impossible schedules. With you regularly pulling doubles at the hospital and Katsuki working his way up the hero rankings, you didn't often get a night off together for date night. Even the important couples holiday, Valentine's Day, was a day neither of you could take off. So this year, you decided to celebrate your own V-day, nearly two and a half weeks after the actual holiday.

The problem was you had mixed up your days, rushing home from the hospital in a flurry after getting a confirmation call that afternoon about the reservation from Katsuki’s assistant. You felt guilty, especially since he'd taken on planning the date night. But in typical Katsuki fashion, he'd blown up at you, yelling his head off as soon as you walked through the door. Then, despite your guilt, you were pissed at him.

"I told you on Tuesday that I was gonna be working today." You raised your brow, looking toward the bathroom with lips pursed. "If we're late, it's because you don't pay attention to anything I tell you."

"Babe, I already said I was sorry." You huff, unsatisfied. You turn back to your face in the mirror, reaching for your eyeliner. "And you told me that while I was in bed. You think I can remember the shit you tell me when I'm half asleep?"

You narrowed your eyes, trying to keep your hand steady as you did your eyeliner fuming mad. "Nice apology, Katsuki." You said dryly.

He emerged from the bathroom, and as he passed behind you toward the door, you caught a whiff of the cologne you'd gotten him for his birthday. God, it smelled so fucking good. Normally when he wore it, it was only a matter of time before you were on top of him, unbuttoning his belt. Not now, though. Not unless you were gonna use the belt to strangle him. "Don't fuckin' talk to me about apologies. You're the one who forgot about tonight in the first place."

"I didn't forget!" You whip around to face him. You had crazy eyes, you knew, but fuck, your boyfriend made you feel crazy sometimes. "We had different dates down, and I couldn't exactly leave work immediately. There was a bus accident today. The hospital was overrun. I can't just leave when people need me."

"People are always gonna need you. They're always gonna need me. Doesn't mean we don't need each other." You stilled, recognizing your own words. You'd said them early in the relationship, the first time your jobs were making it hard to be together.

"Are you trying to make me feel guilty? I can't even count how many dates we've had to cancel because you had a mission! But oh, because it's my job, it's a bad thing to be dedicated? Do you not take my job seriously?"

He groaned. "Babe. Do you know what I had to do to make tonight special for us? The strings I had to pull to get us a spot at this restaurant for tonight? If we were just gonna sit at home in our fucking underwear, it wouldn't be a big deal."

You were glaring, but turned your attention back to the real task at hand. "You know what, I can't even fucking talk to you right now. I need to finish getting ready." You could argue, or you could do your makeup. You could not do both.

He let out a bitter laugh. "Well, thank god for that!" He yells back, walking out of the room. You flushed with anger, the sudden urge to throw something at him. But you couldn't chase after him to scream anymore; if you really were late, you'd never hear the end of it.

Ten minutes later, you were off, heading toward the restaurant in silence. Well, silent except for the occasional passive aggressive sighs and grumblings about the music you passed back and forth during the twenty minutes it took to get there.

When you got there, the host offered to take your coats, and Katsuki’s hands were on your shoulders, helping you out of yours. The rough pads of his fingertips grazed over your shoulder, and you were acutely aware of his breath ghosting along your neck.

Fuck, you think, annoyed at the way goosebumps rise along your skin, always like a live wire when it came to his touch. You had to fight your body's urge to lean into his touch, your anger still simmering but somehow making everything hotter, more volatile. You needed to keep it together. You couldn't let him win the argument because you were a little horny.

The restaurant was elegant, elevated. The low light was warm against the white tablecloths, and you were glad you had purchased a new dress for the occasion.

Katsuki was dressed to impress, too; charcoal colored trousers and a black cashmere sweater. When he took off his own coat, you had to remind yourself not to check him out. At least not obviously.

You followed the host toward your table, Katsuki behind you. “Are you gonna be pissy the whole night?” He asked as you were sitting down, realizing the attitude had yet to leave your expression. He couldn’t admit the reason it’d taken him a second to realize you were still pissed was because he’d been too focused on the way your dress hugged your curves, or how he had wanted to run his hands over your hips as he’d taken your coat. No, he wouldn’t admit the reason his ears were red was because he couldn’t stop thinking about dragging your ass to a restroom, or back to the car, to fuck you so hard you forget about why you were mad in the first place.

You sneered at him, about to pop off with an insult, and maybe a curse or three, but you were greeted quickly by your waiter.

Katsuki ordered wine for you, and a dirty martini for him.

When the waiter left, you shot a narrowed look to your boyfriend. “I’m not pissy.” It was a blatant lie, but you couldn't be bothered to care about being fair.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. You have been since you got home.”

“Well, I kinda had a shitty day,” you said, honestly. “Can’t imagine why you thought yelling at me would make me feel better.”

“Babe, really? You were supposed to be off today, then you text me that you were staying late. And you still stayed later than you said. I almost lost the fuckin’ table tryna change the reservation. We don't get to do this often, I'd like my fucking girlfriend to at least pretend to be excited about it.”

You groan a little, trying to not be loud and draw attention. This is not the place you wanted to have this argument, especially with someone as explosive as Katsuki, but you weren’t ready to concede, because if you did, he’d think he was right. “I told you since last week that I’d picked up the extra shift, on this day, and you didn’t say anything. I didn't do it to spite you, and I don’t really appreciate being blamed for an honest mistake as if I did it to piss you off. We’re here, aren’t we?”

“Yes, and this is just how I wanted to spend the evening with you.” He said dryly, sneering and turning his attention to the menu, effectively ending the conversation.

The rest of dinner, and even the drive home, was much of the same. Neither of you were able to drop the bickering long enough to really talk about anything. Over the course of the meal, one martini had turned into two, and you’d finished off the bottle of wine. You both were still mad, senses dulled, and emotions amplified. When you glared at him, you couldn’t help but focus on the shape of his eyes, how pretty he looked even when he was mad.

And all he could think about was how he wanted to fuck the attitude right out of you. Every sneer, every glare sent his way, pissed him off, but he couldn’t deny how fucking sexy you were when you were mad. Without even trying, you had him half hard in his pants, like he was some fucking teenager on his first date. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, even by the time you’d gotten home.

He rounded the car to I open the door for you, offering you a hand. You raised your brow at him, but let him help you out the car. Katsuki set his hand on the small of your back, just barely above your ass, only because he needed to touch you. He wanted to get you hot and bothered, until you were begging for him.

The heat from his hand did stir something low in your stomach, and you tried not to show how he affected you, not even looking in his direction. As his hand dropped from your back, his fingertips grazed your ass, and you rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door. “Don’t think that’s gonna make me forget I’m mad at you.”

"Tsk," he clicks his tongue at you, pushing open the door and flashing that smug smile he knew you couldn't resist. “You can be mad at me and still want me to fuck you.” He said shamelessly.

You felt your face heat at his boldness, and you had to look away, focusing on the door as he pushed it open. He moved, if only slightly, for you to walk in passed him, and you fought to maintain your composure. You loved it when he was like this, and he knew it was a sure way to get you in the mood and give whatever he asked of you.

He wasn’t wrong, either. You weren’t even really sure why you were still fighting, other than that you were being stubborn and, in a sick way, loved fighting with your boyfriend.

You walked past him, keeping your expression level. Katsuki watched you move through the house, following you into your shared bedroom. Despite your efforts, he saw right through you; he was certain he could have you apologizing and begging him to give you attention.

But you were determined, and when you wanted, could be even more stubborn than your boyfriend. Through the wine, or maybe because of it, you knew you’d succumb to him eventually. You always did, and happily. Tonight though, you wanted him to fold first.

So, you took your time getting undressed, going so far as to ask for Katsuki’s help unzipping your dress when you could've done it easily, letting it pool around your ankles before you stepping out of it. As you stood in front of your dresser, examining its contents and deciding what pajamas to slip into, Katsuki slipped his hands around your waist, settling on your hipbones. He pulled you back into him, and you felt him, hard, pressing again the small of your back.

You bit your lip, stifling the urge to lean into him, to rub against his erection, or worse, let out the sweet moan that threatened to expose you. After so many years together, he knew exactly what would make you crumble, and fuck, you almost did.

“I’m trying to get ready for bed.” You say instead, voice clipped. You reached for a pair of black shorts from the drawer, but his hand was covering yours, intertwining your fingers. Fighting to keep your expression even, you leveled a glare on him as he leaned over your shoulder. “You really wanna piss me off tonight, don’t you?”

“Definitely wanna do somethin’ to ya.” He shoots back quickly, the thumb at your hip rubbing slow circles into your skin, promising more. You narrowed your eyes. There was no way you could resist him, you needed to act quickly.

You turned around, looking up at him through your lashes. His hand was on your ass now, fingers squeezing and pulling you closer to him. You placed your hand flat on his stomach, trying to put some space between the two of you. You were flushed now, and he knew it. “C’mon,” his finger came up from under your chin, forcing you to look right at him as he smiled sweetly at you. “Don’t be a sore loser. Admit it. You’re turned on.”

You lean up onto your toes, pressing your lips against his, reaching down and untucking his shirt the best you could. He helped you, getting his belt undone and stepping backward out of his slacks as you pushed him back toward the bed.

He was pulling his shirt off as he sat on the edge of the bed, before pawing at your hips so you were sitting in his lap. The heat of him pressed right against you was delicious, and you rolled your hips against him. He swallowed your sighs as your tongues danced together, flushing with pride at the noises you pulled from him.

He was impatient, meeting the wave of your hips with thrusts of hie own. But this pesky fabric between the two of you. "Fuckin’ take these off already.” He grumbled, pulling at the fabric of your underwear where it covered your ass, and you wasted no time getting rid of your last layers of clothing.

He nearly cried out as you lowered yourself on top of him, leaning into you so that you could feel his heavy breath tickling your neck. You allowed yourself to enjoy it momentarily, before pushing his shoulder with a finger so he was laying back on the bed, his legs over the edge of the bed. You squeezed around the tip of his cock as you got used to the stretch. “Fuck, you’re so wet already.” You hid your satisfied smile by leaning down, sucking kisses from his chest up his neck. With each hitch of his breath, every moan, you rewarded him, clenching around him, or shifting the angle of your hips, lowering down until he was pressed flush against you.

You were used to the stretch, but with the way he filled you, and the lovely friction against your clit, you could already feel how the tension in your stomach was ready to snap. You needed to calm down before you came undone, biting into his shoulder as you found the rhythm that would make him crumble.

The drag of his cock along your walls had you clenching, and then you started to feel the telltale signs that he was close. His fingers tightened on your hips, almost painfully so, unable to control the way he thrusted up into you.

"You gonna come?" You cooed, sitting up a little, pulling out slowly and dropping down on his cock. He looked so close, his eyes fluttering each time he filled you. His resolve was crumbling, too lost in the feeling of you around him to remember that you were the one who was supposed to be one begging.

"Fuck," He whimpered when you clenched around him. You settled your hands on either side of his chest, leaning forward so you could keep bouncing on his cock. "You wanna come, my love?" You ask, crumbling at how Katsuki blushes under you. He nods, melting for you. You lean forward, pressing a messy kiss against him. You were close, too. If you looked at that expression one more second, you'd come undone.

You shift the angle of your hips, and he let out a clumsy grunt, fingers squeezing the fat of your hips for some stability. "Fuck, baby, just like that. I'm gonna—"

That's when you lift your hips, until only his tip is inside you, and still. You reach down, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. He cries out, a moan turned sour as deny him. You smile down at him, and he knew by that look in your eyes that he was in for it.

You leaned down, lips brushing over his slightly as you said, "I'd like to see you beg me to let you come." He couldn't even find it in himself to be mad, not with the way you looked above him, your hair messy from him running his fingers through it, the light sheen of sweat on your skin from riding him so well. He doesn't care who was supposed to punish who, not when he was so close to coming, not if all it would take was a little begging.

You continued edging him, bouncing up and down on him until he got close, then cockwarming him until he calmed down. His sweet pleas grew more desperate. You almost let him when you came yourself, squeezing around him uncontrollably as you stilled on top of him to ride out your orgasm, and he nearly lost it at the feel of you so tight around him.

But even though you came, you weren't done with him, continuing to roll your hips over him, looking right into his eyes as you fuck him.

He has tears pricking his eyes, and he's whimpering. “Baby, please. Please let me come. I’m fucking sorry for yelling at you today. I got lost in wanting things to be perfect, but I was an ass for getting mad.” Your expression softens for your boyfriend, and before you can even speak, he’s leaning in. His kiss is rough, hurried, and he’s thrusting up into you harder now than before, shifting so he hits that spot that has you moaning into his mouth. Unexpectedly, you fall into your next orgasm, and he feels you clenching. “Baby, please can I come?”

Words elude you, so you simply nod, leaning against his chest and resting your hands on his shoulders, bracing yourself as he uses you to finish. He’s twitching inside you, and after only a couple more thrusts, you feel his warmth flood your cunt, as he fucks you through both your orgasms.

You’re breathing heavily, body feeling heavy as you lay on top of him, hands still resting on your ass, holding you against him. You feel his cum, and yours, seep out of you onto him, but he makes no move to get up to clean.

“I’m sorry, too.” You say softly, tracing your finger over his chest. You look up at him, and his gaze is already on you. “I was being kind of a bitch. I just…felt guilty, for almost ruining tonight, but it was easier to be mad at you than admit I messed up.” You feel your cheeks heat, looking away from him and resting your ear against his chest. “So, I’m sorry for being so sour all night. And for getting the day wrong.”

He rolls you both over, easily moving you both so your head was back against the pillows, still snuggly pressed inside you. Still hard, you realize. “Cute apology, but I can’t let you off that easy. You were a bitch tonight.” His eyes shine wickedly, his smirk smug as he pulls slowly out of you. You whine at the lovely drag of his cock along your walls.

He leans down and, kissing you hard, knocks the breath out of you with the way he thrusts back into you. “I'm not done with you, yet." He thrusted into you again again, hitting that spot that had you already craving a third orgasm.

You’re gasping curses, then his name, as he fucks you, slowly but with strength and precision. You couldn't help digging your nails into his back as you feel the first wave of your orgasm. "Fuck, I'm gonna come again." You say breathlessly, and bite into his neck as you tug on the hair at the nape of his neck right as you come. You feel a rush of liquid, making a mess between your thighs and dripping down your ass, ruining the sheets beneath you.

The way you're clenching around him has him seeing stars, and feeling you squirt around him spurs him into his next orgasm, keeping himself buried in you as he cums. You pull him in for a kiss as he fills you, his lips grounding you as you come down, chests heaving against each other.

~~~

After showering and changing the sheets, you’re back in bed, curled up into his side and playing with his hair. You’re both smiling, fucked out and tired, though unwilling to end the night. “We should just sync our calendars.” You say finally. “That way we won’t get anything confused, and we can avoid pissing each other off.”

His hand, which had settled on your hip, landed a couple light smacks on your ass. “I don’t think I mind us pissing each other off. Not with the way you fight.”

You roll your eyes, grinning even as your face heats. “Please, you were the one who couldn’t stop pawing at me when we got home.”

He snorts. “You liked it,”

“Yeah,” you say absently, eyes growing heavy. “I guess if we settle our arguments like that, I don’t mind getting into a fight every now and then.”

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

a/n: thanks so much for reading! I hope you like this spicy little valentine's treat <3 if you did, pls lmk with rbs and comments! happy v-day <3

taglist: @asmaechan @animexholic @justanothernpcartist @inumakicanrailme

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo smut #mha bakugou #mha smut #katsuki bakugou #bakugou smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x chubby reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha smut

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gentaro-kinniecom · 4 months

Text

Let’s talk about it

Characters: Xavier/fem!reader

C/w: 1.5k! First person pov (read at your own risk..) soft sex, couch sex, cowgirl position, sex therapy(?), rough sex (ish?) dick piercing..

A/n: A mishap occurred, I got an anonymous request to write about Zayne coming home from work and having sex with the reader as a way to de-stress..and I read that as Xavier so I apologize but that fanfic is now in the making so don’t worry anon your fic is in process ;)

Hearing the house keys jingling against the front door, I was quick to get up on my feet to receive my loving boyfriend with a hug and warm smile that he always loved. However, upon opening the door, Xavier’s face looked..exhausted. He tried his best to smile and greet me like he’d normally would but I knew something was up.

“Good evening..should I go run the bathtub while you settle in from work?” I asked softly while holding his free hand as the other rubbed his eye, a sign of sleepiness while Xavier yawned.

“That would be..wonderful my dear, I hope it’s not much of a trouble for you” He said, almost apologetically as I kissed him, that was enough to reassure him that I was fine with it. After the bath was prepared, I called Xavier into the bathroom, placing some final touches like his favorite fragrance to the water and a bathbomb to accompany it, hints of lavender and mint infused the room while he entered, sighing, almost at peace.

“I hope this helps you relax a bit, we should talk about your day once you’ve refreshed yourself” Xavier nodded, not having the strength to answer as he kissed my forehead. I decided to then heat up some leftovers from yesterday’s dinner that ended up with kisses and cuddling at a late hour, though nothing happened unfortunately. The stress of being able to help many people was getting to Xavier, little by little until it all built up. Without having anything to do while waiting for the food to reheat, I walked by the bathroom, listening to the moans and grunts from inside, trying to peek from the small door crack. He looked so blissful after his orgasm that I nearly forgot the food on the stove. Just as I ran towards the kitchen, Xavier finished showering, a more relaxed face upon his features as he held his towel, looking my way

“Is everything okay? Did you burn the food again..?” He asked, sighing while going towards the laundry room and the living room soon after.

“No…? Okay, almost but it’s fine really!” I replied, sighing as he settled in the small love couch we’ve spent many nights on, the memories coming back to me as I prepared our plates for dinner. It was in that same furniture that I had my first orgasm, he was so gentle and caring; like he’s always been of course. Snapping out of my thoughts, I handed Xavier his plate while we watched an episode of our favorite series.

We finished dinner quicker than expected and all of our attention was taken away by the tv; or at least Xavier’s. I found myself staring at the choice of pants he wore, gray sweatpants that were usually not worn by him and shoved into the confines of our shared closet unless a special event came up. Without realizing, he chuckled softly, lowering the volume of the television as Xavier grabbed my hand.

“You’re staring, is something on my face? Or rather, my pants?” Oh. I knew he wasn’t that dumb or oblivious to anything I did, Xavier was always so attentive to any small details, whether it was my appearance or a change in my mood; It was so difficult hiding anything from him.

“Have you ever thought of talking about your problems or day while having sex?” I inquired, his face softened, has he dreamt about this before? Before I could even return back to my normal thoughts, Xavier already pressed my body against the sofa. His mouth nipped at my neck, traveling down towards my collarbone while responding.

“All the time, but, I never knew if you were into that, you know the last thing I would do is make you uncomfortable, right?” His soft lips met mine in a quick but gentle gesture. My arms wrapped themselves around Xavier’s neck, caressing his hair while making out with him. The friction between our clothes was enough to leave me whining against his mouth.

“I..know but, would you like to try it, today?” I paused, coincidentally at the same time he stopped feeling me up to look into my eyes with a smile, something telling me it was the beginning of something great for us.

“It’s all up to you, it’s not necessary to have sex just to talk about stuff, however..it would help out in other things..” Xavier’s hands took control of my thighs, wrapping them around his clothed waist as he began to mimic what it would feel like if we were fucking at that moment, in other words, teasing me. With his consent, I grabbed the hem of his sweatpants, (after briefly hustling to get him under me) admiring the way his cock sprung out while tossing the pants and underwear aside.

“I’ve missed this..truly.” He chuckled at my remark as I kneeled, grabbing his thighs while deepthroating him in one go, nearly gagging on his cock. Hearing my boyfriend moan was absolutely rewarding, especially since the piercing he had was indeed sensitive to each small touch given to it; the small prince albert piercing was enough to make my mouth drool. Bobbing my head up and down, his hand grabbed a hold of my hair, pressing my head onto his dick while grunting.

“T-that’s it..! Ah..please..! I’m gonna-!” I parted away from his cock, giving it a few more strokes. His cum shooting across my face in long white streaks; Xavier’s face was a bit red, mostly due to his overstimulation and embarrassment, making me chuckle as he leaned down to kiss me.

“This is..far from over, you know that right?” He nodded, allowing me to sit on his lap all pretty while he helped me get rid of his cum on my face. Moments later, I sunk onto his dick, pressing my hands against his shoulders for support while his hands grabbed my waist, letting him do all the work of thrusting into me.

“Work was so..ngh..tedious today. I had to deal with so many..people- ah fuck..! All so that I could come back to see you” Xavier explained how some wanderers attacked one of the bases that had vital information in. His thrusts became quicker and loose as he kept venting of his day. A sharp thrust made me moan as the highlight of his day was told.

“But..nothing ever beats coming here and wishing to fuck you like this every..single..day. Oh, c-can I?” He asked so softly, his voice nearly a whisper as I nodded, hips rutting to meet mine feverishly while cumming deep inside. Our lips met again, not wanting to let go as Xavier hugged me tightly, wanting to spend some warmth together.

“Feeling better now? If not, you know there’s always round two for more; both ranting and fucking” I spoke, breaking the silence of the room while Xavier’s eyes grew with lust. He smiled while pushing me onto the couch one last time, still connected while lazily thrusting forwards against my overstimulated and stuffed pussy as I moaned.

“Oh so you want me to keep going?” I nodded, my hair splayed against my back, moving sometimes; especially if Xavier thrusted harshly while telling another one of his encounters of the day. After another couple of rounds, he nearly collapsed into my embrace as I chuckled, kissing him to wake Xavier up while he smiled.

“Wait here, I’ll be back” Whispering, Xavier left momentarily after kissing me softly, pulling out from my cunt as I whined. It seemed he was looking for a towel or something to take care of me afterwards. However, I heard the shower run as he came by to carry me towards it.

“You didn’t have to..a towel would’ve been fine” I spoke, sighing in relief as my body made contact with the warm water, my eyes drifting over to Xavier’s body that joined mine in the tub. He clasped my hand softly, kissing the top like a gentleman.

“Of course I had to, I shouldn’t hesitate to take care of you at all times.” His gaze softened upon meeting my own. Lips crashing into one another as he chuckled, pressing my hand against his soft abs while speaking.

“Seeing you like this makes me crave another round..” I smiled, getting out of the tub and wrapping a towel around my body while Xavier did the same but around his hips.

“Weren’t you tired a few moments ago?” His laugh made me laugh alongside him. We got dressed in our favorite couple’s pajamas, my body pressed against Xavier’s as he wrapped his arms around me. A small yawn fell from his lips, murmuring something that made me smile

“I am now..goodnight my dearest” Xavier’s head rested upon my chest, serving as a pillow while a hand grabbed one of then, as long as he was comfortable, nothing could ever disturb me.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace xavier #xavier love and deepspace #xavier x reader #xavier smut #im so sorry anon pls forgive me 💔💔

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m1ckeyb3rry · 3 months

Text

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // SIX

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: Two separate encounters with two different Firebenders yield revelations of the sort you are unprepared to face.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 8.4k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: i have been writing like crazy recently AHAHA but anyways apologies in advance to anyone expecting anything different from this 😫

“I’m so sad that the break is over. It wasn’t nearly long enough,” Jia-Li said as the two of you returned to your room for the first time since you had left it for Ember Island.

“Our beds look a lot smaller in comparison to the ones on Ember Island,” you said. Jia-Li snorted.

“That’s for sure. And did the room shrink while we were gone?” she said.

“It definitely looks like it,” you said. “At least we don’t have class until tomorrow.”

“Do you think Ty Lee is back yet?” she said. “We should go to the market. It’ll be fun.”

“I should probably do some reading so that I’m ready for tomorrow,” you said.

“Don’t be a spoilsport! I doubt you forgot anything in the short time we were gone, seriously. You’ll be okay if you skip out on reading for one day and come enjoy yourself with the rest of us,” Jia-Li said.

You gave the stack of books on your desk a longing look before nodding firmly, knowing Jia-Li was right, and furthermore that Ty Lee would agree with her. It was just as important for you to socialize as it was for you to study hard, and going to the market wasn’t so time-consuming that it would leave you unable to do anything for the rest of the day.

“Alright, but only if you don’t complain about me reading tonight,” you said. “The book I’m on currently is really interesting.”

“What’s it about?” Jia-Li said.

“The history of Ba Sing Se,” you said. “Since I was found there, I thought that learning more about it might spark some memories in me. All things considered, it’s not as boring as one might expect. The chapter I’m about to start is on the royal family and the construction of the palace.”

“To be honest, I don’t see how you find that so fascinating, but if that’s what you like, then who am I to stop you? Sure, you can leave the candle burning a bit longer in order to finish your chapter if we get back too late,” she said.

“Thanks,” you said. “You are the best roommate ever.”

“You flatter me,” she said. “Open up, Ty Lee!”

“What if Kaho is the one at the door?” you said, grabbing her hand to stop her from continuing to bang on it. Jia-Li huffed at you.

“She’s not going to be back until the evening. Don’t you remember how much she was bragging about having to stay late to submit her official reports from the meeting and all of that?” she said. You let go of her hand, for you did remember that. Once freed, Jia-Li continued to knock.

“Coming!” a muffled voice said, and then the door was swinging open to reveal Ty Lee, who was standing on her hands for some reason. “Ursa! Jia-Li! What are you guys doing here?”

“We wanted to ask you if you would come to the market with us,” you said, twisting your neck so that she would come into proper perspective. To your chagrin, it did nothing but make you dizzy, so you gave up and decided to just look down on her upside-down visage.

“Sure!” she said, rocking herself onto her feet and standing properly. “How were your breaks?”

“They were good,” Jia-Li said. “Very relaxing, but way too short.”

“We did see you at one point,” you reminded her. Ty Lee giggled.

“Right, at that stupid party! I heard you guys ended up partaking in the festivities, if you’re catching my meaning,” she said.

“Yes, that’s right,” you said. Jia-Li grinned, flames dancing in her palm before she curled her fist and extinguished them.

“It was fun,” she said. “You were on to something, Ty Lee. It was exactly what we needed.”

“Jia-Li’s brother was not happy with us when he found out,” you said. “But it’s fine. He’ll make up with her, I’m sure, and as for me…it’s fine if we never speak again.”

“Onto the next,” Jia-Li said. “It’s alright. You win some, you lose some.”

“Exactly,” you agreed. “What about you? What were you up to when you weren’t on Ember Island?”

“Strategizing with Azula, mostly,” Ty Lee said. “You know, she killed the Avatar around when Zuko took over Ba Sing Se.”

“Really?” you said. Ty Lee nodded.

“Yup, I saw it myself! He was about to go all glowy-white-eyes on her, and she just shot him with lightning before he could,” she said.

Killing an Avatar as a normal person was unheard of, and Princess Azula wasn’t even a master yet. She was clearly a prodigy, but you knew from Ty Lee that she was still training, though her training was so advanced that it was theoretically impossible for normal Firebenders such as Jia-Li and even Kaho to accomplish. The fact that she had done something as legendary as defeating an Avatar without full mastery of her element spoke to her skill and talents, and you swore then and there to never get on her bad side.

“That’s insane,” Jia-Li said. “I always knew she was on another level from the rest of us, but I didn’t realize until now just how large that skill gap was.”

“Mhm, but for some reason, she’s gotten to be crazy paranoid recently. She’s convinced that he’s not really dead, and she’s been losing sleep over it,” Ty Lee said. “It’s tainting her victory, and she’s been meeting with Mai and I nonstop on what we should do in case he proves to be alive.”

“It’s better to be prepared than not,” you said. “Though she probably doesn’t have much to worry about. If the Avatar was alive, he probably would’ve made himself known, don’t you think? I doubt it would be easy for an Airbender to hide himself, especially not one as powerful as the Avatar surely is.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling her, but she’s still worried,” Ty Lee said. “So my break was mostly work, except for that one weekend on Ember Island.”

“That’s a shame,” Jia-Li said.

“Next break, I’m going to sleep the entire time,” Ty Lee vowed. “Every day I’m at the school serves as a reminder of why I dropped out in the first place, and I need my body and aura to recover from this kind of environment.”

“I always forget you did that,” you said.

“Why’d you come back?” Jia-Li said. “It’s obvious you hate it here, and you have a place in the palace already, so it’s not as though you’re going to climb the ranks socially by attending.”

“Simple! I’m here to keep an eye on Ursa!” Ty Lee said. “Not that she needs it, but Prince Zuko asked me to come along and help her acclimate to the environment of the academy, since we weren’t sure if she’d be able to handle it or not.”

“That’s a lot more logical than you suddenly developing a passion for the scholarly pursuits, which is what I had previously thought was the reasoning,” Jia-Li said.

“I don’t think I’ll ever develop that,” Ty Lee said, wrinkling her nose. “I’ll leave the academic stuff to Ursa.”

“Me, too,” Jia-Li said.

“Hey, come on, guys. Reading is fun,” you said, though it was obviously unconvincing, as both of them made faces at you. “Or not, I guess.”

“Let’s stop talking about school, please,” Ty Lee said. “It’s bad enough that we have classes tomorrow. We don’t need to ruin our free time by thinking about them now, too!”

“It’s not a problem for me,” Jia-Li said. “Maybe Ursa will have some difficulty, though.”

“Shut up! No, I won’t!” you said. “You won’t hear me speaking about school for the rest of the outing.”

“Does that include whenever you drop your random little factoids to explain whatever’s going on at any given time?” Jia-Li said.

“Hopefully not,” Ty Lee said. “I’d be way too confused without her narrating everything.”

“True,” Jia-Li said. “Okay, you can talk about those, but no more explicit mentions of the academy. Or of reading. Or of other things along those lines.”

“I already agreed!” you said. “Honestly, you guys have such a low opinion of me. Anyways, do either of you have anything specific to get at the market, or are we just wandering around?”

“Maybe I’ll get a new hair ribbon, but I’m not particularly attached to the idea, so I’m alright no matter where we go,” Jia-Li said.

“I don’t have anything I need, so we can go look at the hair ribbon stalls if you want, Jia-Li,” Ty Lee said.

“It’s the same for me,” you said. “Besides, it’s not like I really have money to spend, which means I’ll just admire the different shops, so I have no particular preference for where we go. Lead the way, Jia-Li; you’d know the market best, anyways.”

“Ty Lee probably knows it pretty well, too,” Jia-Li said.

“Nope, I ran away to join the circus, remember? I haven’t been here for a while! Even when I came back to the palace, I was always with Azula and Mai, and they’re not really the type to enjoy walking around the market, so it’s been a bit,” Ty Lee said.

“Then it really is up to me,” Jia-Li said, straightening her shoulders and nodding firmly. “Follow me, girls!”

You and Ty Lee marched after Jia-Li as she strode towards a stall decorated with hair ribbons of every shade. Some were patterned the way Kaho’s was, whereas others were solid-colored, like the one Jia-Li tended to wear. All of them were beautiful, richly made and finely dyed, and you could not help running your fingers over a few of them in appreciation.

“What do you think of this one?” Jia-Li said, holding up a red ribbon that had white flowers embroidered on it. “The one I have right now is so plain.”

“It’s very nice,” you said.

“I like it!” Ty Lee said. “You should get it.”

“Do you think so? Let’s see. How much is this for?” Jia-Li said. As she began to argue with the merchant about the price, you found yourself wandering off, observing the hustle and bustle of the marketplace, the different vendors and their goods, the mothers with their little children rifling through their purses full of gold coins, the serious soldiers standing at attention in uniform — and the not so serious ones with their helmets off and tucked under their arms as they talked to each other. Though the market was so large in scale, it was more like a collection of small, intimate snapshots of domesticity than a grand, epic portrait woven together out of perfectly conjoined parts.

There were so many different stories happening at once. People cried and laughed and argued and bantered on these streets. They lived their lives, unknowing of what would happen to them next or what those at their sides were going through. It was one of those mundane sort of miracles, the sort that were so commonplace that nobody would find them miraculous unless they stepped back and thought about them for a moment.

“Did you hear the news?” someone said to you. You tilted your head at the woman, who had her hand held in front of her mouth politely. “Apparently, there’s a prisoner on the loose!”

“What? In the capital?” you said. She nodded.

“Word has it that he deserted the army during the fall of Ba Sing Se and was promptly captured by Prince Zuko, who sent him to prison. But now he’s escaped! It’s all so frightening,” she said. “Be careful. You’re a student at the academy, aren’t you? My daughter is in her first year there, so I recognized the uniform. You should hurry back to the campus — it’s much safer there.”

“Thank you for the warning,” you said. “I hope you stay safe as well, madam.”

It had been an odd encounter, but for some reason, it wasn’t the random nature of the conversation that made you uneasy. Such things happened at markets, and especially because you apparently went to school with her daughter, it made sense that she had approached you. No, it was the story itself that you were worried about.

The History Mistress had never mentioned anyone deserting the army, besides the former General Iroh. That meant that this escaped prisoner, whoever they were, must’ve been some foot soldier so unimportant that they were not even worthy of the simplest sentence in your lectures, but that begot another question — how had a simple foot soldier escaped a Fire Nation prison?

The haggard man in front of you walked with a limp, and the exposed skin that you could see was littered with scars. Unlike what you would’ve assumed, though, the scars were clearly not from burns. They were cuts, deep lacerations that stood out red and furious against his arms, his neck, his ankles and even his face.

He must’ve been in a terrible battle, but for some reason, no one paid him any mind. The crowds parted around him before melting back together, like he had never been there in the first place. It was only you that followed, you who was entranced, matching his every step with your own. There was some burning desire in you that needed to follow him. You couldn’t place it, couldn’t understand its origin or any part of its existence, but you just knew you had to fulfill it. So you went after the man, growing steadily closer and closer until you could hear what he was muttering to himself.

“Gave everything…fought for that damn prince…what does it get me? Going to kill that girl. Going to kill that girl. What does it get me? Gave everything for that damn prince. Going to kill her. I have to kill her,” he said, over and over, repeating the same phrases on loop.

“Excuse me, sir, but are you alright?” you said when the two of you reached a dead end and the man stood still, facing the wall, continuing to say the same breathless things.

“I knew it,” he said. “I knew someone was following me. We Soldiers of Agni, we know these things.”

“Soldiers of Agni?” you said. The man still did not turn around, pressing his hands against the stone wall and resting his forehead against it. “They’re all dead, sir. They fell during the invasion of Ba Sing Se.”

“And don’t I know it!” the man said. “We gave everything for that prince, and what did it lead us to? Death! Death, you foolish girl, all of my comrades are dead! I’m the only one who survived that wench’s onslaught, but instead of being treated as the hero I am, I was renounced as a traitor. Prince Zuko took my status as a Soldier of Agni away, and he threw me in some dungeon to rot. Tell me how that’s fair!”

“I think you’re confused, sir,” you said, stepping away from him, questioning your own instincts for landing you into this situation. Because this was definitely the prisoner that the woman had been talking about, and since that was the case, you were almost certainly in danger. “Prince Zuko would never do something like that. He is a kind and just person. He even saved me!”

He spun around. “He saved — you!”

Before you knew it, there was a blast of fire heading directly for you. You barely leapt out of the way and readied yourself to fight, but even if the prisoner was telling the truth and he really had once been a Soldier of Agni, his reflexes and musculature had faded during his time locked away. No matter how much he tried, nothing but wisps of smoke escaped his hands, and he shouted in fury before rushing at you.

“What are you doing?” you said as you began to run as well.

“I’m going to kill you!” he said, his voice breaking as he did so. “You took everything from me, so I’m going to kill you!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” you said in distress. “I’m just a student at the Royal Fire Academy! I haven’t taken anything from anyone!”

“Is that where you are now, you sly witch?” he spat. “It wasn’t enough for you to destroy us all? You have to infiltrate our nation, too? Get out of here, scum!”

“What are you saying?” you said.

“My comrades are dead because of you,” he said. “I’m in prison because of you. I have to — I have to get justice. If that Agni-damned Prince Zuko really did save you, if he really is just letting you walk around and pretend to be one of us, then the Fire Nation is doomed. I have to do what I must for my country! In the name of Fire Lord Ozai, I will kill you, once and for all!”

“Huh?” you said. “I was a prisoner in Ba Sing Se! I don’t have the faintest clue how I could’ve killed your comrades.”

“That’s rich, coming from you. You don’t have to lie in front of me. I was there, wench. I know what you really are,” he said.

“And what might that be?” you said, skidding to a stop before you crashed into a wall and turning to face him, getting into the hand-to-hand combat stance that you had been trained to adopt at the academy.

“The—” Before he could finish, his eyes widened, and then he was falling over. It was Ty Lee; she had jabbed her fingers into his pressure points in a quick but familiar succession, and now she was standing over him, disapproval etched on her face.

“Ursa! There you are!” Jia-Li said, rounding the corner and almost tripping over the fallen man. “Who is that?”

“He’s an escaped prisoner,” you said. “He claimed he used to be one of the Soldiers of Agni.”

“I thought they were all dead, though?” Jia-Li said.

“They are,” Ty Lee said. “He must’ve been rambling about nothing.”

“Definitely,” Jia-Li said. “What Soldier of Agni would just faint like that for no reason?”

“It wasn’t exactly for no reason. I used my chi-blocking to take him out!” Ty Lee said.

“Chi-blocking?” Jia-Li said as the man groaned, beginning to wake up.

“It’s a pretty useful skill,” Ty Lee said. “All sorts of applications. It can temporarily take away bending, incapacitate people, and more! It’s the way for nonbenders like me to level the playing field and stand a chance even against the strongest of benders.”

“That’s why you aren’t afraid of Kaho!” Jia-Li said.

“Yup!” Ty Lee said.

“Who are you girls?” the man said groggily, pushing himself to his feet.

“I thought you knew who I was?” you said. “You said so yourself!”

“How would he know who you are?” Jia-Li said.

“No idea, but he seemed pretty sure just a second ago,” you said.

“For some reason, I think I do,” the man said. “But I don’t know how or why. There’s just a blank spot in my memories. I can’t — I can’t remember anything.”

“That’s strange,” Jia-Li said.

“He must’ve hit his head when he fell,” Ty Lee said.

“Right,” you said, though when she stooped over to pick the man up and bring him to the nearby soldiers, you narrowed your eyes at her.

You knew that chi-blocking sequence. You knew it well, because Ty Lee had used it on you before, still used it on you even now. You had never questioned it much, never found any merit in doing so. Ty Lee was infamous for being an airhead, so you had always put the strange ritual down as another one of her oddities. But what if it wasn’t? There was no way that the man had hit his head hard enough to forget everything so quickly, especially not when he had been so confident only seconds prior.

The more likely scenario was that Ty Lee had somehow blocked his memories when she had blocked his chi. It made the most sense, but if that really was the case, then what motive did she have to do the same for you? It was uncomfortable thinking about it, but you couldn’t stop the question from reverberating around your mind for the rest of the day.

Was Ty Lee the reason you didn’t remember anything?

That night, when Jia-Li was asleep and you were getting ready to settle in bed yourself, there was a knock on your door. Quickly blowing out the candle and making sure that the door was locked, you leapt into your bed and pulled the covers over your head, squeezing your eyes shut and pretending to be fast asleep.

“Ursa?” It was Ty Lee. “Are you awake?”

You knew what she was there for. It was about the time for her to — if your assumption was correct — block your chi, and possibly your memories. You had never protested, and you didn’t want her to grow suspicious of you in case that led to her taking even more drastic measures, but you also knew you had to avoid her for the time being if you ever wanted to remember who you were.

Just for a couple of days. You only had to stay away from her for a couple of days, and if nothing changed, then you would return to her side and act as if you both were friends once more.

“Are you and Ty Lee fighting?” Jia-Li said the next morning. You were currently suffering from a massive migraine, massaging your temples as you tried to block the light from hitting your eyes, but you managed to shake your head in the negative.

“No, we’re not,” you said. “Why?”

“You didn’t talk to her all morning, and you sat next to me instead of her, the way you usually do. I think she was a little sad about it,” Jia-Li said.

“I just have a really bad headache,” you said.

“Do you need to go to the infirmary?” Jia-Li said. “If you can’t handle class, I’ll tell the Etiquette Mistress. You’re already her favorite pupil, so she shouldn’t mind.”

“No, I’ll go,” you said, knowing that it was of the utmost importance that you didn’t go anywhere alone. It would be an opportunity for Ty Lee to chi-block you again, one you did not need to create, not if you wanted your experiment to be successful. “I’m sure I’ll get over it with something to drink.”

Yet, despite the cups upon cups of water you chugged, it didn’t do anything to dissipate your headache. It was like there was someone pushing on your brow, crushing your head together, the heaviness seeping down behind your eyes and into your jaw. You thought you might be close to implosion, but there was never a moment of relief. The pressure just kept mounting and mounting until you really did wish for someone to take a hammer to your skull and break it open so that you could finally be freed from the pain.

“Ursa, Jia-Li,” Kaho said as you entered the classroom, her voice filled with venom. “I can’t believe you’re daring to show your faces today.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” you said, far too preoccupied with your migraine to temper your irritation with your usual politeness. “We’re students at the academy, the same as you, Kaho.”

“I thought you might be ashamed of yourself after your performance during the break, at Ember Island,” she said.

“What performance?” you said.

“You destroyed my house!” she said. “I know you all did. You and that group of losers from the beach, whoever they were. My brother told me all about it.”

“Your brother’s the biggest fool I’ve ever met,” you said. “Followed closely by Ruon-Jian. Neither of them recognized the prince and princess even when they were right in front of them.”

“Don’t call my brother a fool,” she said.

“It must be a familial trait,” you continued.

“Ursa, what are you doing?” Jia-Li said.

“I have way too much of a headache to deal with her squealing right now,” you said harshly. “Chan is an idiot and we helped destroy her house. It’s true, but it matters little to me, and I wish she’d just go and wallow in her misery somewhere far from where I am!”

“You’re playing with fire,” Jia-Li fretted. “Quite literally.”

“Can you just leave me alone for once, Kaho?” you said.

“You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you?” Kaho said. “You’ve taken my spot as the top student, and you’re favored by Prince Zuko, so you believe that makes you my superior. But there’s one thing that you’ll never have.”

“And what might that be? An insufferable attitude, or a particularly hideous—” you were cut off by Jia-Li slapping her hand over your mouth.

“She doesn’t know what she’s saying,” Jia-Li apologized. “The migraine is making her delirious.”

Kaho ignored her, staring directly at you, the anger which she was so well-known for blazing to life in her irises. It was the same way she had glared at you after defeating that one underclassman in an Agni Kai. It was the same way she glared at you every time you corrected her in class or got a better result than her on an exam. It was the same way she glared at you whenever you received a letter from Prince Zuko while in the dining hall.

She hated you. You had known this for some time, but you had never understood it until that moment. Kaho despised everything you were, but more than that, she despised that she was jealous of you. She was used to everything going her way, and yet, here you were, a girl who had no memories and no background and no bloodline, taking without difficulty everything that was once hers.

It should never have been yours. To Kaho, you were nobody, a girl from rubble who stole everything from the rightfully deserving. And now here you were, insulting her in front of everyone, clearly rising above the place she had designated for you in her mind. It was an offense of the highest order, and in that instant, you came to the conclusion that you would not escape unpunished. Kaho would no longer allow you to walk over her without retaliation.

“Firebending,” Kaho said. “That’s what I have, and I will always, always be your better, because you can’t even bend.”

“Maybe not,” you said, swallowing and then deciding that if you were already doomed, you might as well have the last word. “It makes it more embarrassing for you, though, doesn’t it? That a nonbender has beat you so thoroughly in everything else? That you can only cling to your bending to maintain your sense of superiority?”

“That’s it,” Kaho said. “You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?”

“You’ve really done it now, Ursa,” Jia-Li groaned. “Don’t even think of asking me to be your proxy. I don’t have a death wish.”

“I do,” you said. “And I’ll save you the trouble. I challenge you to an Agni Kai, Kaho.”

If an Agni Kai was declared, classes were suspended so that the school could watch. Though they were so brutal in nature, they were actually encouraged by the administration, as they served to weed out the weaker students, leaving behind only the strongest, the best of the best.

At present, the field where you and Kaho were going to fight was utterly cleared, though staff and students alike gathered on the edges to watch the event. It had been anticipated for some time, this clash between the two top students of the academy, even if one of them couldn’t Firebend.

“You’re seriously not even calling a proxy?” Jia-Li said.

“Who would I call?” you said, rolling your shoulders. “She’s beaten every girl at this academy already, and I’m not about to beg the prince to save me.”

“Let go of your pride for once and do exactly that!” Jia-Li said. “You couldn’t even take me in a fight, so you can just forget about facing Kaho.”

“Actually, she can manage,” Ty Lee said grimly. You didn’t know where she had come from, but there she stood, her face set, her posture stiff. “Ursa. I don’t know why he said it, but for some reason, Zuko seemed to think that you were strong. Stronger than the rest of us, in fact.”

“He told me as much,” you said. “I don’t know why he said it, either, but for some reason, I don’t think he was lying. At least, he seemed to really believe it, which means there must be some thought behind it all.”

“It doesn’t matter if you’re a prodigy with weapons on par with Master Piandao himself!” Jia-Li said. “Against someone like Kaho, you either need to be a bender or have unusual skills the way Ty Lee does. Can you claim either of those things?”

“I don’t know, Jia-Li,” you said. “I don’t think so. Yet I have to do this all the same. She’s gone unchecked for far too long.”

“And you’ll be the one to check her?” Jia-Li said, throwing her hands up in the air. “I wish you had just gone to the infirmary like I had told you to!”

“Let’s go, Jia-Li,” Ty Lee said. “It’s time. Good luck, Ursa.”

Another pang. You forced yourself to smile through the pain, not wanting to show weakness right when you were about to get into a fight. Ty Lee smiled back, though Jia-Li did not muster the same energy, wailing despondently about how she was going to lose another roommate as Ty Lee dragged her off the field.

“This is your last chance, Ursa,” Kaho said. “If you fall to your knees and grovel, if you accept your place in this world, and if you renounce your ties with the royal family, then I will spare you.”

“I cannot do either of those things,” you said. “And you cannot ask me to.”

“I will not be gentle,” Kaho warned. “I was kind in my last Agni Kai, so perhaps you think that you will get off in a similarly unharmed way. If that is the case, then I want you to know that you are wrong. I will burn my victory into your skin so deeply that you can never look into the mirror without being reminded of the day you angered the wrong person.”

“My head is already full of pain, nearly to the bursting,” you said. “What is one more wound? Do your worst, Kaho. Even if I lose today, I will still have won in the end.”

“And how is that?” Kaho said. You grinned at her.

“Because I’ve shown everyone else at this academy exactly the sort of person you are,” you said. “You can’t beat a nonbender at anything else, so you have to challenge them to an Agni Kai in order to cling to the last threads of your former glory. You’re really very pathetic, and no matter how thoroughly you burn me, you can’t change that.”

“Did no one ever teach you to hold your tongue?” Kaho said, taking a deep breath, fire flickering at her fingertips.

“Certainly, at some point, someone must have,” you said. “But I shouldn’t know when or who or what the purpose of the lesson was. Don’t you recall that I have no memories?”

No one could say that Kaho wasn’t talented. The way she used her Firebending was like an extension of herself, as brutal and efficient as her clinical personality. It wasn’t that she was incredibly powerful — she just did not waste even a drop of energy, focusing her entire being into her forms, which were done with a clear accuracy that was difficult to dodge.

She punched a lick of fire at you, deadly hot, the air shimmering in the aftermath of it as it dissipated into nothingness, barely avoiding singing the edges of your clothes. You employed every trick you had learnt, for the longer you could draw out the fight, the worse it looked for her.

It was a game that you could not win. It was a game you were destined to lose, but — and maybe this was your past knowledge speaking — you had to play along. The outcome was determined, but you still had to play.

“Why did you come here?” Kaho screamed, her careful control slipping the more times she missed burning you. It was like her words drove a knife through your head, and the only reason your faltering was not a fatal blunder was because she, too, was growing more and more errant in her strikes. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“You’re the one trying to immolate me!” you said, sweat pouring from your brow, your shirt sticking to your collarbones and your pants clinging to your legs. “Why don’t you raise that question to yourself?”

“You!” she said. “Why are you speaking so elegantly? Are you mocking me?”

“Of all the things, you choose to criticize my manner of speaking? Your sense of prioritization is as horrid as your personality,” you said.

More fire. This time, the hem of your shirt did catch alight, but you put it out before it could reach your skin, so it didn’t count as a first burn. It did, however, mean two things: you were getting tired, and Kaho was losing even more of her composure.

“You came here,” she said. “I was alright before! But you came here and decided that everything I had was yours. My place in society, my standing in the school…the happy ending I was born to inherit has all gone to you!”

“Happy ending?” you said. “Do you think I care about something as superficial and fantastical as that? I don’t even have a beginning! Have you ever taken a second thought about your hatred? You can choose the direction of your life, Kaho. Whether happy or sad or anything in between, you know who you are. I do not have such a luxury. You resent my friendship with the prince, but if I do not have him, I have nothing left of my past! I helped destroy your house, yes, but at least you have a house — and it was only one of many. I don’t even have a shack in the woods to call my own!”

“Exactly,” Kaho said. “You should be begging on the streets, yet you are here. But no longer. No longer will I allow you to exist beside me, as if we are equals.”

Your eyes widened as her words sank in. This wasn’t just an Agni Kai anymore. She would not stop once she burnt you. It didn’t matter how completely; you had been wagering that you could eventually heal from whatever she inflicted on you. But, according to Kaho, she was not planning on you ever healing. She was planning on you dying.

Without Kaho’s fire, the air was almost cold. Goosebumps raised on your bare arms, though whether it was from chill or fright, you were not sure. Kaho was incredibly still, her eyes closed as she inhaled deeply, centering herself, drawing strength from the core of her bending — her breath. Everyone else was silent, though you thought you could hear someone, perhaps Jia-Li, repeating a prayer to Agni frantically, begging him to protect you from Kaho’s wrath.

You did no such thing. There was a voice in your head, whispering past the pain, telling you that Agni was not your god. You could not pray to him. You could not pray to a lord of destruction. You could not pray to the deity who had ruined your home.

You did not question this voice, though by all rights it was contrary to the little you knew of yourself. You were a Fire Nation soldier. Agni had not ruined your home, he had saved it. He was the one whose banner you had fought under. He was the one whose name you had been tortured in. He was your patron.

No. He was not. He was Kaho’s. He was Zuko’s. He was Jia-Li’s. But you were not a Firebender. You were something else. What? It was inexplicable, but your bones resonated with that truth as the effects of Ty Lee’s continuous chi-blocking began to crumble, your headache finally alleviating as you had your first breakthrough.

Kaho opened her eyes, and then fire gathered in her palms. You stood your ground this time, rooting yourself into the dirt of the field, and as a wave of fire rolled towards you, destroying everything in its path, you cringed back and screwed your eyelids together but refused to move. This time, you would not move.

Right when the blistering temperature got to be too much, it was cut off, asphyxiated before its source could reach you. Then Kaho was hurling insults at you, calling you a mongrel, a filthy half-breed, a daughter of mud. You cracked your eyes open, wondering why she did not attack you once more, why she had ceased her assault at the instant before she would have won for certain.

There was a large wall of stone erected before you, shielding you from Kaho, impenetrable by even the hottest of fires, which certainly she did not possess. That wall had not been there before, and the names which Kaho was calling you suddenly made sense — because you had created the wall. It was yours.

You were an Earthbender.

Within seconds, every single person that had borne witness to the Agni Kai was slumped over on the ground, including Kaho herself. Ty Lee used her momentum to flip over the wall, dropping to her feet before you and crossing her arms.

“You knew,” you said. “The entire time, you knew.”

“No,” she said. “Not exactly.”

“You’re the one who’s been blocking my memories, though,” you said. “Right? You would block my chi so that I couldn’t remember my past or use my Earthbending.”

“That’s right,” she said, bowing her head. She seemed apologetic, but nothing resembling pity filled you. The only emotion you could muster was disgust.

“Why?” you said. “What could have convinced you to do something like that? I thought we were friends, Ty Lee. Was that all a lie? Were you only staying close to me so that you could keep suppressing my memories?”

“No!” she said. “That was the reason at first, but I like spending time with you, Ursa. You really are one of my friends.”

She reached out as if to embrace you, but you took a step backwards so that she could not. She pulled back as if you had wounded her.

“My name isn’t Ursa, is it?” you said. “Who am I really, Ty Lee? Tell me the truth.”

“I have no idea,” she said. “He didn’t tell me anything about you. He just said it was for the best if you didn’t remember anything. I was so afraid the whole time, I thought Azula might be angry if she found out, but he was always so kind to me when I was younger that I thought I owed him at least this one favor…”

“Who?” you said. “Who is he? Who demanded you keep my memories from me?”

She gave you a miserable look. “Zuko.”

“That liar,” you said. It wasn’t just anger for the specific betrayal; there was some old rage quivering in you. You hated him. You hated him. You couldn’t say why, but you hated him. The ground shook, and Ty Lee glanced around nervously, but you paid her no mind. “He lied to me! He pretended like he cared, but the whole time, he was the one who did it! It’s his fault that I’m like this!”

“Don’t be angry,” Ty Lee pleaded. “I’m sure he had a reason. Just talk to him, and I’m sure he’ll explain!”

“Explain?” you said. “I don’t want to hear his explanations. I want him to pay for what he did!”

Another stake driven into your mind. It was your chi, you presumed, chipping away at the place where your memories were stored. There was still nothing concrete, but a sense of claustrophobia was creeping over you. You weren’t supposed to be here. You were supposed to be somewhere else. You were supposed to be doing something, but Zuko — Zuko had snatched you away from that fate.

“Ursa,” Ty Lee said.

“Stop calling me that,” you said. “It’s not who I am.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what else to call you,” she said, clearly near tears. “Please calm down for a little bit. I blocked everyone’s chi in time; no one will remember this happened, so take the moment to settle and think things over. There’s no rush.”

“You can’t just do that,” you said. “You can’t keep blocking people’s memories at whim. They’re not yours to play with like that. Anyways, won’t they remember again? Are you really going to go around once a week and block everyone’s chi?”

“I was quick enough, and it was a small enough memory, that just one time will be sufficient,” she said. “No one will know what you’ve done, and I promise I won’t block your memories again if you stay.”

“I can’t trust you,” you said, straining with all your might to drive the stone wall back into the ground. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t.”

Dust flew up everywhere, but once it cleared, the field looked placid and undisturbed — barring, of course, the scorch marks left in the wake of Kaho’s attacks.

“What are you going to do now?” she said.

“I’m going to my room,” you said. “You can go ahead and tell Zuko I can Earthbend again. I’m sure you’ve been keeping him updated this entire time, so I won’t stop you.”

“He’ll want to come visit you,” Ty Lee said. And, because you did not want her to get in trouble, because despite what she had done there was still fondness for her buried deep within you, you only sighed and then nodded.

“Then he’ll do just that, I’d expect,” you said. “Goodbye, Ty Lee.”

You weren’t sure if she knew what you meant by the farewell. Maybe she did. For her own sake, you hoped she did not, or at least that she pretended that that was the case. She had in the end only been a tool of Zuko’s, so though you did not forgive her, you did not hate her, either.

Perhaps by a stroke of good fortune or perhaps by design, Jia-Li did not return to the room before dinner. This allowed you to collect your meager possessions, shoving them in the bag you had brought with you to Ember Island. Changing out of your uniform, you bit your lip before placing it in the trash. It was beyond salvaging, and besides, your time as Ursa was over. Now, you had to leave behind the life that the prince had created for you and figure out who you were, what your own life was like.

Fastening a cloak over your shoulders and tossing the hood up over your head to further disguise yourself, you slunk through the dormitory, staying in the shadows and hiding whenever people passed. In that manner, you managed to escape detection, reaching the academy’s aviary before anyone noticed you.

“Bian,” you whispered to your messenger hawk. She was instantly awake, cocking her head at you. You shook your own at her in the negative. “I don’t have a letter for you. There’s no one left for me to write to. I just wanted to tell you something: I’m leaving.”

Even if Bian had once been meant to be Prince Zuko’s, you had difficulty thinking of her as anything but yours. She was your friend, yourhawk, and though she was of the Fire Nation, of your time as Ursa, you could not let her go without saying farewell first, the way you would with the rest of it.

“I can’t tell anyone else,” you said. “It’ll just put them in danger. I can’t even say bye to Jia-Li. She’ll think I just ran away for no reason, and she was too loyal of a friend to deserve that, but I cannot implicate her in my defection from the academy. She’ll be the first they question, and I don’t know that she’ll lie convincingly enough to escape suspicion. So, then, when she says she has no idea where I’ve gone, she has to be telling the truth.”

Bian cooed at you; well, maybe calling the throaty sound cooing was being generous, but there was no other way to describe it, and the sentiment was the same. She was trying, in her own way, to comfort you, and you extended your arms to her perch so that you could rub the soft, tiny feathers of her cheeks.

“Thank you for being my hawk,” you said. “Be good for whoever owns you next — unless it is the prince, in which case I give you full permission to bite his fingers whenever he tries to give you letters.”

With that, you turned around, your hands dropping to your sides as you walked, then ran out of the aviary. If you turned around, you would cry. If you turned around, you might not ever be able to leave, so you sprinted until you reached the stables where the various animals belonging to the academy were kept.

Passing by the sleeping dragon moose and the corral of komodo rhinos, you ducked into the stall of one of the mongoose lizards. Throwing its saddle on, you patted it on the forehead.

“I’m sorry,” you said, swinging on and kicking it forwards. “I promise you can go home once you get me out of the capital.”

The mongoose lizard was fast, but more than that, it was stealthy and could traverse many kinds of terrain. Scuttling through the campus, it climbed the walls at your direction, though it was obviously unsure, as it had been trained not to leave the academy, even when given the opportunity.

Looking up, you saw a shadow cover the moon briefly, and you furrowed your brow as the dark shape came hurtling down towards you. The mongoose lizard continued to dash through the streets of the capital, and you used your hands to shield your face from the incoming projectile.

You needn’t have. At the last moment, it flared its wings, landing gently on your shoulder, careful not to dig its talons into your flesh despite the subsequent loss of balance.

“Bian?” you said. She nipped your shirt collar like she was chiding you for daring to leave without her. You laughed in relief, scratching her crest. “Oh, my dear Bian. I should never have tried to go without you. Thank you for finding me.”

She hopped off your shoulder, sitting on the pommel of the saddle, surveying the terrain with the regal bearing of a figurehead. With her at your side, you weren’t quite as lonely, and though it was selfish of you, you were glad that she had made such a choice, that she loved you enough to follow you away from the comfort of the aviary.

You traveled for a while at top speed, but once the mongoose lizard began to show signs of fatigue, you reined it to a stop. Whistling for Bian, you slid off of the beast. It made a clicking noise at you, and you smiled at it.

“Thank you,” you said. “You have done your job well. You may go back now.”

Without hesitation, the mongoose lizard spun and headed in the same direction it had come from. You didn’t wait, either; the palace certainly had methods to track you, so it would be a folly for you to stay in the same place for too long.

When the search began depended on Jia-Li. If she reported your disappearance immediately, then you were in trouble, but you sensed she would not. You had a habit of coming back to the room later than her, so she’d likely not realize you were gone at all until she woke up and saw your bed had remained undisturbed the entire night.

That left you with a window of time in which you could eat and sleep. After that, you had to walk to the nearest village and appropriate a new mount that could get you even farther from the academy and the capital and Prince Zuko’s grasp.

“It’s just so strange,” you said to Bian as you made a small fire using kindling, the way you had been taught in the academy. “If I’m an Earthbender instead of a former Fire Nation soldier, then there really is no explanation for any of it. Why did he abduct me? Why did he order my memories to be subdued? What significance did I hold?”

If she knew anything about the heart or mind of her former master, she did not reveal it. Rummaging around in your bag for the bit of food you had scrounged up while packing, you chewed on it pensively before pulling out the book you had been reading.

Opening to the page you had left off on, you promised to only finish the chapter on the royal family before you went to sleep. Maybe it was foolish to sacrifice any of the precious little rest you could get, but you longed for something to soothe your mind, and you thought that reading, as a familiar habit, might accomplish that goal.

The last ruler of the Earth Kingdom was the 52nd Earth King, born Kuei. He is famous only for his ineptitude. Ascending the throne at the age of four, he was a puppet monarch for much of his life, until the day he was deposed of by Prince Zuko and the Fire Nation forces.

For some strange reason, there was a lump in your throat reading about the 52nd Earth King, as if he was someone that you greatly missed. But that was not even the oddest thing — it was the next passage that made you truly gasp. Memories upon memories poured in as you read and reread the paragraph, which was more of a footnote than anything.

The 52nd Earth King also had a younger sister, though no one ever saw her. A nonbender like the king, Princess Y/N remained shut away in the palace her entire life, reputedly for her own protection. Because of her fragile and essentially invisible status, her own subjects mockingly referred to her as the Glass Princess.

She, along with her brother, was killed during the fall of Ba Sing Se.

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #reader insert #canon au #the glass princess #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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number1mingyustan · 1 year

Text

Habit (part i.) —k.sy

fuckboy!hoshi x fem!reader

Genre: fwb au, college au, fuckboy au, angst, smut

Warnings: kissing, cursing, mutliple orgasms, oral (f.), fingering (f.), protected sex, he's kind of an asshole but at the same time not ??

Summary: You're in desperate need of getting laid, whether you want to admit it or not. And it just so happens that the fuckboy from your Economics class comes knocking at your door.

Word Count: 3.1k

part ii. part iii. part iv.

_______________________________________________

(a/n: bittersweet made me realize i’m more of a mini series girl, so here’s a lil treat for you all)

“Soonyoung,” you frown with a sigh as you look through the peephole on your door.

The overly enthusiastic boy stands in front of your dorm with a brown paper bag in hand and a cup holder.

You crack the door open, peeking your head through. “What do you want?”

“I know you’re still mad at me, but I brought you food,” he smiles.

You close the door in his face.

“Please Y/n! I said I was sorry, just let me in. I’ll beg if I have to, but I’m going to drop these drinks if you don’t let me in right now!” his voice is muffled by the door.

“You can’t win my forgiveness with food Soonyoung!” you shout from the other side of the door.

“I got your favorite! Strawberry milkshake with extra whip and waffle fries! Please Shorty!”

Ugh you hate that he knows you so well. And as much as you want to prove him wrong, you’re hungry as hell.

You cave, opening the door for the boy. He rushes in, nearly dropping everything in his hands before placing it onto your desk.

He turns around, facing you with the brightest smile on his face. “Thank you for letting me inside.”

“Mhm,” you reach over him, grabbing your fries out the bag. “I’m still mad at you though.”

“Please Y/n, I’ve apologized like a billion times,” he pleads with you.

Last week Soonyoung ditched you to get laid. The two of you had an Econ project to work on and he didn’t show up on day you were meant to work on it. You texted him a billion times and didn’t get a response and ultimately ended up finishing the project alone.

He texted you later that night apologizing profusely because he was in Akari's dorm and forgot about your plans.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t completely out of character for him either.

You first met Soonyoung at a party. Your roommate, Nai started dating his roommate Seokmin. The mutuals brought you together one Friday night on campus. And although you usually didn’t befriend guys like him, the two of you worked great together.

You’d seen him around campus, including Economics class , but before the party you’d never interacted with him. The day after the party he changed seats to sit next to you.

You could admit he was attractive, yes, but that was really it. Soonyoung had… a bit of a reputation that preceded him.

He wasn’t big on relationships and he slept around a bit. He could commit to a friends with benefits, but that was really his limit. He partied a lot, which was how he met so many girls and had the chance to hook up with them. He did one night stands, but he also maintained his flings, like Leina and Akari. He maintained his grades well too, however his fuckboy tendencies still preceded him, especially in situations like this.

“I told you food wasn’t going to buy my forgiveness,” You dip one of your fries in your milkshake and take a bite as you plop down on your bed.

He frowns. “Please, I’ll never do it again,”

“Damn right you won’t,” you take another bite.

Truthfully, you’re not actually mad about it anymore. It was a stupid thing for him to do, but it’s been a week already and you’re not big on holding grudges. However, it is fun to mess with him.

“I give up,” he throws his hands up in defeat. “As soon as Nai came over, I knew you’d be here alone and figured I could win over your forgiveness. But you’re so stubborn I’m not even gonna bother anymore.”

“If you get on your knees and beg I’ll consider it,” you smirk.

“Are you being deadass?” he asks.

You giggle. “No, I‘ve been gotten over it. Thanks for the free food by the way.”

Soonyoung is silent for a moment.

“Seriously?!”

You nod, taking a sip of your milkshake.

“God Shorty, you’re so uptight I genuinely thought you were still mad at me,” he plops down on your bed next to you and takes a sip of his milkshake.

“I am not uptight,” you defend.

“Yes you are,” he takes one of your fries despite having his own. “You need to get laid or something.”

“Excuse me?”

He takes another sip. “What? Don’t act like I’m wrong. I know you’re under some sort of dry spell, it shows.”

“I am not under a dry spell,” you frown.

“Yes you are,” he laughs. “If you weren’t, you’d be more like me.”

“Bold of you to assume I want to be like you. You sleep around so much, I have no idea what diseases you’re carrying,”

“Hey! Have you know, I practice safe sex and maintain my 3.8. Don’t hate because you can’t get laid,” the blonde boy smirks.

“I can get laid!” You defend.

“I’m sure you can, you’re a pretty girl. You just like… don’t,” he takes another sip.

“That’s only because every time I’ve ever slept this someone it sucked” you scoff.

Soonyoung stops mid sip and slowly deadpans into your direction. “Are you serious?”

“Ugh!” you cover your face in embarrassment. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, it’s so embarrassing!”

He pulls your hands off your face. “Stop being so dramatic. I might be able to actually help.I’m kind of an expert in the area.”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ve only ever slept with 3 guys and the experience got worse between each guy. It was just like… I don’t know. I think I’m the problem.”

“I’m sure you’re not the problem,” he buts in.

“I think I am,” you frown.

“What, did you like… bite it or something?”

“No! God no! Nothing like that. It’s just like, none of them have ever gotten me there,” you admit.

“Like they’ve never made you finish?” he asks.

You nod.

“Then the problem definitely isn’t you, you’re just sleeping with guys that have no clue what they’re doing,” he shrugs.

“Yeah well I thought that the first time and then it happened twice again and ended up worse than before. Figured it had to be me,” you explain.

“No Shorty, they just suck. It’s really not that hard to get a girl to finish,” he shrugs.

“That’s easy for you to say,” you roll your eyes. “You’ve slept with half the girls on campus.”

“Okay first of all I haven’t slept with that many girls,” he defends. “And second of all, all those girls I did sleep with left satisfied.”

“I’m sure they did Soonyoung, but that doesn’t help me in any way,” you point out.

“Yeah, but I could help you out you know,” he offers.

Is he saying what you think he’s saying right now?

“You mean like…. sleep with me?” you ask.

He shrugs. “Only if you’re okay with it. No pressure.”

“Won’t that be weird?” you ask.

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” he shrugs again. “I’m not asking you on a date Shorty.”

You frown. “Yeah I know that.”

“It would just be like a no feelings no rules thing, just me helping you out,” he takes a sip of his milkshake. “Can be a one time thing we both forget about if you really want.”

“I guess,” you think. “Okay,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

What? Are you actually agreeing to this right now? You know he knows what he’s doing and that he’s safe about it, but it’s the emotional aspect you’re not taking into consideration right now. Soonyoung is still one of your good friends and this changes everything… right?

He says it’s only weird if you make it weird, but it’s easy for him to say that. He’s done this before, and he’s good at it. The sex with no strings that is.

You trust Soonyoung and you know he would never hurt you. He’s doing this to help you, and it’s really a win–win no matter how you look at it.

He smiles. “Come here.”

He pulls you onto his lap with great care. His thumb strokes your cheek for a minute assuringly before he closes the small gap between your faces.

The kiss starts slow and gentle. Quick pecks turning into a longing kiss that grows more intense with each passing second. His other hand lay on your waist, thumb rubbing small circles on your side as he continues to deepen the kiss.

You kiss him back with the same energy he provides you with. Hands wander across each other’s bodies, touching clothes and skin.

He moves, pinning your body down on the bed under his. He hovers over you, lips trialing down your onto your neck. He’s careful enough not to leave marks, simply pulling down the strap of your tank top. One of his hands sneaks up your back, unhooking your strapless bra and tossing it on the floor somewhere.

"Tell me if you want to stop," he says between kisses. "Or if you don't like anything, at all."

"Okay," you breathe out as you allow your eyes to fall shut. You submit your body to him, putting your trust entirely into his hands. Your body relaxes and sinks into the mattress. He removes his lips from your skin, stopping to grab a pillow and adjust your body to ensure your comfort.

He crawls down your body, fingers playing with the strings of your pyjama pants before pulling them off and tossing them onto the floor. You're left in your tank top (that's really only halfway on) and your underwear. He kisses your inner thighs gently before hooking his fingers into your panties and sliding them off.

"You're so pretty, Shorty," he mumbles, more so to himself.

His gentle demeanor is gone almost immediately. His lips immediately attach themselves to your clit, licking and sucking on your extremely sensitive bud. You let out a hiss and arch your back at the sudden contact.

Soonyoung's never been one of those guys against going down on a girl, but holy shit. He's eating you out like it's his last meal on earth. His lips and his tongue are everywhere, spreading warmth along your most sensitive areas.

He concentrates mostly on your clit, stimulating the sensitive bud to the max. You find it hard to keep still, constantly squirming as he devours you.

He's monaing in pleasure as your taste coats his tongue. He groans when you tug at his blonde hair, only causing vibrations to rumble through your body.

He's slurping and sucking, thoroughly devouring you like his life depends on it. It's only been a few minutes and Soonyoung fears he's addicted to you already. You taste sweeter than he could've ever imagined and the sounds you're making are driving him fucking crazy. He loves that you're vocal too, it's only serving as encouragement for him. You've never made this much noise in bed and the fact that he has you squirming and moaning like this only makes him want to devour you more.

Just when you think it can't get better, he slips his fingers inside of you. One at a time he pushes his digits in, pumping them in unison to bring you more pleasure. He's moaning with you enjoying this just as much as you do, if not more. His hips are rutting into your bed sheets, cock hard and leaking with excitement for what's to come.

You're grinding against his face and fingers, each flick of his tongue and thrust of his fingers pushing you closer and closer to the edge. The familiar feeling is buliding in your lower abdomen, however this time you actually feel the coil snap.

It comes so quickly you don't even have time to warn him that you're cumming. Your body shudders and convulses as you ride out your orgasm on his face and cry out his name. He doesn't stop even once you've come down, he's completely smitten and pussydrunk. You have to pry him off of you as your body grows sensitive from the overstimulation.

When he finally pulls away, his face is dripping and his eyes only half lidded. It looks at though he's been placed under some daze.

"Holy shit Soonyoung," you breathe out.

You're panting, chest rising and falling as you try to fully recover from the incredible orgasm he just gave you and the second one you nearly experienced.

"Was that okay?" he asks.

"More than okay," you lick your lips.

You pull his head down so he's hovering over you. "Want you to fuck me Soonyoung," you whsiper.

"You sure you can take me?" he asks. He breath fans against your lips. Smells like chocolate from the milkshake he was sipping on earlier.

You nod. "I can take anything you give me."

He swears his cock just got harder. He didn't think it was possible, but you're turning him on like crazy right now. Who knew you could be like this? The two of you quickly scramble out of all your clothes before you find yourself underneath him again.

There's a gold chain dangling from his neck as he hovers over you. He's got another shiny gold package in his hand that he got from his pants.

"You just keep those on you at all times?" you ask.

"Kinda," he shrugs. "Never know when you're gonna need them."

"Hmm, guess it's not such a bad thing," You lick your lips. "I was about to let you fuck me raw."

His breath gets caught in his throat. "Shorty are you serious?"

You peck his lips. "You know I don't keep any on me, and if you didn't bring it we'd just have to do without it."

He nearly tosses the condom away but you grab his wrist and giggle. "Maybe next time."

"Oh, so there's gonna be a next time?" he asks, voice laced with amusement.

"Can't decide that until after you fuck me," you smirk.

He feels his cock twitch under the sheets. He wastes no time ripping open the package, rolling the latex onto his length aligning himself with your entrance. He slides the tip along your slit a few times before he pushes the head of his cock in. Slowly, he pushes more of his length into you.

This feels so... intimate. Even though you've been in this position before, you never felt this close to any of the other guys. They all sort of just stuck it in and went at it for a few minutes before they finished. They didn't really bother to make sure you were okay, filling you up inch by in the way Soonyoung is. He wants to make sure you feel him.

"C'mon Shorty, you told me you could take it," he coos.

Your eyes are screwed shut as you try to loosen up for him but fuck, he's big. It's been a while since you've done this and he's fucking huge. Nonetheless he takes his time with you, ensuring that you're comfortable as he fills you up.

Once he's all the way in, he stops to ask if you're okay. You assure him at you are and give him permission to move. You can tell he's holding back. His thrusts are shallow and slow.

You've already started to adjust to his size and you encourage him to go faster. It's like a switch in him turns on again because his hips rapidly pick up in pace. He draws his cock out of you, slamming back in and making you curse and moan his name.

"You're so tight Shorty," he groans.

Shit, this feels so good. He fills you up so perfectly. You love feeling the stretch of his cock, his length pounding into you at the perfect pace. His tip pushes against your walls and his thumb soon finds your clit. The stimulation from both is so good and you know you're gonna cum again soon.

You're sure it's something about the dancer in him. The way he fucks you so well. You feel so good around him, he doesn't ever want to stop fucking you. So tight, so warm, so wet, all for him. You're driving him crazy.

He can feel himself nearing the edge too. His veins are popping out of his arm as he holds himself up, gold chain dangling in your face. You can't see it though, your eyes are still screwed shut with your lips parted as he fills you with inexplicable pleasure.

You look so sexy to him. You're both dripping in sweat and he finds himself becoming more vocal as the two of you approach your highs. He's cursing over his breath, nearly catches himself whimpering at how good you feel. You're throbbing around his length, letting him know that you're just as close as he is.

Thankfully so, he didn't want to end the night without you cumming around his cock. His thumb continues to circle your clit quickly and it only takes a few moments before he's driving you into another state of euphoria. His hips grow erratic as his orgasm hits him, full force. He doesn't stop, fucking both of you through your orgasms as his cock twitches inside of your throbbing pussy.

He fills the condom and pulls out before collapsing on top of you. His body weight is crushing you and he's panting into your collarbone.

"Soonyoung! Get off of me!" you push his slick body off of you.

He rolls next to you on the bed, landing on his back with a soft thud. "My bad," he chuckles. "I swear I died for a second."

"Was it really that good?" you muse with a smirk.

He presses his palm to your face plafully. "Be quiet Shorty, you know that was the best lay of your life."

He's got you there. There's no denying that he absolutely just changed the trajectory of your sex life and rocked your shit.

He smirks, sitting up on the bed. "That's what I thought."

He rolls of the bed and slips his boxers back on before disposing of the used latex.

"C'mon," he reaches his arm out to you. "You need to get up. Gotta pee and shower."

You groan into the pillow. "No."

He lets out a breathy laugh. "C'mon Shorty, you need to."

You groan again, but he pulls you out of bed. Luckily you only share a bathroom with Nai and none of the other girls on your floor. He helps you to the bathroom and assures everything is okay with you before venturing back into your actual room.

Once you're all cleaned up, you walk back into your room with just a towel on, only to see Soonyoung pulling his shirt over his head. He's leaving.

“You’re not spending the night?” you ask, cocking your head to the side.

“Can’t,” he says as he adjusts his pants. “I’ll see you later though yeah?”

You nod. He grabs the rest of his things silently and leaves with a soft close of the door. His exit leaves an odd feeling brewing in your body. What the hell just happened?

_______________________________________________

this is part 1 of 4!!

#seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #hoshi smut #kwon hoshi #svt hoshi #hoshi seventeen #kpop

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yikesharringrove · 2 months

Text

@thediktatortot sent me some song recommendations with specific harringrove-coded lyrics and I decided I wanted to write something for as many different ones as I have the juice, because I was genuinely inspired and thank you thank you friend for the recommends!

First Song: Lemon Boy by Cavetown

“It’s actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him, so I got myself a citrus friend.”

Here’s the thing about Billy Hargrove:

He’s simple.

Everyone (all the girls) think he’s this complicated thing. This person with a million different layers and a million different faces. And, Steve guesses, that’s sorta true.

But really, he’s kinda easy to understand.

He needs kindness.

There’s not much more to it than that.

And sure, maybe the why is where the layers come in. He needs kindness because he never gets any blah, blah, blah.

But at the end of the day, a few nice things, and he’s loyal forever.

Steve figured it out kind of accidentally.

Because Billy forgot his textbook in American History, and they sit alphabetically by last name in that class, and so, Steve kinda nudged his book over so that Billy could look on and wouldn’t lose any participation points that day for not being able to answer questions and read when the teacher asked, and so, it was one tiny nice thing.

Okay, maybe it was more than one tiny nice thing.

Because it was a chain of tiny nice things.

Starting with the textbook, and finishing with Steve sucking Billy off in the backseat of the Camaro to “blow off some steam”.

After the textbook, came the apology.

Half-assed, for sure, and written in scribbly, smudgy handwriting. Not signed, but clear who it’s from.

Sorry for messing you up like that.

Steve returned it with his own note, dropped pointedly on Billy’s desk in class.

Sorry for being weird. I promise nothing shady was going on with your sister. I get it though. No hard feelings.

Billy glanced at Steve through his lashes, and Steve was a little disappointed that Billy hadn’t forgotten his history textbook.

The next nice thing was a coffee.

Because Steve made himself coffee and a breakfast sandwich on the mornings he decided he didn’t care if he was late to school.

He was driving to school, listening to an old mixtape he found at the bottom of his glovebox, and he saw Billy. Head bent low, walking along the side of the road.

HIs hands were in his pockets, and the line of his shoulders was tense. He was all but stomping, and the clear aura of pissed off somehow didn’t deter Steve from pulling along next to him, reaching over to roll down the passenger side window.

“Hargrove! You want a ride.”

The stomping stopped, but Billy gave no other indication that he had heard Steve.

The BMW’s engine idled.

“C’mon, man. It’s like three more miles to school. Lemme drive you.”

When Billy turned to get into the car, Steve was why he was keeping his head down and his shoulders around his ears.

He had a big black shiner, a bruise covering his whole left eye.

He sat low in the passenger seat, cranking the window back up.

“Looks nasty.”

Billy only grunted in response.

“Car in the shop?”

Billy snorted.

“My dad took my keys.”

Ah.

Probably clocked him in the face, too.

Steve’s no stranger to it, even if his dad’s more of a smacker than a puncher. He also had a weird realization that Billy’s dad must be left-handed, like Billy himself.

Steve took his coffee out of the cup holder, passing it to Billy.

“You look like you need this more than I do.”

The next nice thing was kinda the one that pushed them over the line.

Over the line from acquaintances that once beat each other up to actual sort of friends.

It was also not a nice thing Steve did.

It was one Billy did.

And Steve wasn't even there to witness it.

All he saw was the blue green bruising on Tommy H.'s jaw.

"When are you gonna learn, Tommy. Don't pick fights you can't win."

Tommy nearly snarled at Steve from the bleachers, catching himself last minute before he made a seen in front of the entire P.E. class.

Steve only smirked, and took his seat in front of Tommy.

The coach stood in front of the bored class, explaining that they'd be running laps today.

It's what they did whenever he was too hungover to actually make them so anything.

But it's fine. Steve's always been a good runner, and it means he doesn't have to think about anything or talk to anyone while he went.

He tensed when he felt Tommy lean forward behind him, getting in close to murmur in Steve's ear.

"Found yourself a new attack dog, huh, Stevie? Hargrove nearly knocked my teeth out when I called you a pussy. You givin' it up for him, too?"

"Careful, Buddy. You sound jealous."

Tommy snorted and leaned back, but Steve's gut was rolling.

Billy had taken down Tommy for saying something shitty behind Steve's back.

It made Steve's face hot.

Billy showed up twenty minutes late to P.E. He gave Coach a note, and started his laps with the rest of the class.

Steve slowed his pace to get next to him.

Billy's knuckled were a little bruised, and he had a scratch mark on his neck.

Tommy did always fight dirty.

"Heard you gave it to Tommy."

"He deserved it." Billy kept his eyes forward, his pace steady.

"Yeah. He's a toolbag."

They jogged in silence.

Steve opened his mouth to ask something, when Billy piped up.

"Are we, like, friends?"

"I think so. Unless you make a habit of beating the shit out of people for calling your non-friends pussies."

Steve caught Billy's eye and grinned. Billy's smile was reluctant and small, but Steve liked it.

"Last to finish ten laps owes the winner a milkshake." Steve clapped Billy on the back, and took off, easily weaving through the gaggle of junior girls walking in front of them.

"Harrington, you bastard!"

#steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #yikes writes #past stommy #hope you like it! my writing style has changed so much lately and this one really made me realize it

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huexuri · 5 months

Text

: say my name (sub!kai x fem!reader)

NSFW, MDNI!

(warnings: sub!kai , softdom reader?? really vocal kai??? lol , dry humping , humping a plushie , i think that's it)

note: is this a drabble idk but i was just feeling silly goofy xx heehee haha

after a long day out with your friends, you come back to your apartment drenched as it was raining outside. exhausted, you fling your bag onto the floor without a care. the rest of your housemates were out, only kai stayed home to finish a project, but you'd think he'd be done by now and it was odd to you that he was nowhere to be found. he'd usually be watching a movie on the couch in front of you or making instant noodles, but it wasn't the case today.

that's when you hear muffled sounds coming from your best friend's — kai's room, not really identifiable until you go near his door and hear him whimpering and moaning your name. you thought you were hearing shit, so you step a bit closer to his door where you noticed a small gap that his door left open. but you really saw him humping one of the plushies you'd gifted to him last year... and him being so fucked out he didn't even realize you came back.

the sight of his sweatpants crumpled just below his thighs , his knuckles a white hue from gripping the plush, his mouth slightly agape and his head thrown back as his sweaty black hair drooped over his face had you puddle up at your core and your thighs rubbing against each other.

the more he moaned your name, the more you wanted that plushie to be you. originally you just wanted to leave him be, but how can you when you're the one he clearly wants? can you deny that you want him too?

obviously not, and so you fling open the door wide.

his head immediately turned towards you in embarrassment when he noticed you standing at his door glaring at him. "w-wait... i-im! i'm really sorry!! this is so gross ... i'm so sorry.... i ..." he mumbled out in a panic, immediately pulling up his pants, stuffing the plushie aside and brushing his hair. his breathing irregular and his cheeks hot, apologies spewing out his dirty mouth as he hoped for forgiveness.

"kai...." you sigh.

suddenly you crash into his embrace and your hands are all over his warm bare chest, your skimpy dress that hugged every curve of your body rolling up your thighs, his bulge only growing bigger as he pulled you back into his arms.

"w-what are you—"

he doesn't continue when your lips crash into his before he could finish his words. your tongue coating every wall in his warm mouth, kiss becoming sloppier and sloppier as you start rocking your hips for some sort of friction. his already hard bulge glides towards the wet spot on your thin silk panties and you both moan into the kiss when you feel you grind against him.

he pulls you out of the kiss and runs a finger against your clothed nipple. you didn't wear a bra today as the dress already had padding but it was thin. thin enough that he could feel your nipples perk up through the dress. it didn't take a long time before he took the initiative to shove his face inbetween your breasts, letting out a long relieved sigh as he did so.

only then your palm cupped his cock, the only barrier between you and him being his sweatpants as he wasn't wearing boxers. you could feel each vein and crevice even then, stroking him up and down making him moan into your breasts.

you almost forgot how you ended up here when he unintentionally nearly rips your dress off you and the cold air hits your nipples. he pulls away and you moan at the empty feeling, only for him to pull down his pants once again as he lies down beneath you, your palm on his chest as you straddle him.

"y/n.. i need you so fucking bad.. s-so.... bad... please." his raspy deep voice apparent and full of neediness, enough to drive you to your edge.

your core twitched at those words of his. you slid your panties off and slowly you glide over the tip of his cock that leaked of precum,, his liquids mixing with your slick acting as lube. you were both so ready and desperate,, with a knowing look you asked for his reassurance, and once you got the green light, you lowered yourself onto his cock.

"a-aah- fuck, y/n.... i ... if you go any further i might just.... p-please!!-" kai's voice still raspy, now high pitched as he begged. he couldn't even think straight now, what was he even begging for? your palm still on his chest, your hips slowly lifted up and slammed down on him again.

"h-hyuka?.. you're doing so good.. isn't this what you w-wanted? say it... say my name. just like earlier.." you tried to keep your composure as you looked him sweet in the eyes.

"fuck,,, i can't believe..." he whispered, his eyes glued close and palms on your shoulders for support. "just fuck me, y/n.. please." he moaned out as you picked up your pace, hips rising and falling faster without notice. both your moans (mostly his) as well as wet, sloppy, almost lewd sounds filled the room.

his grip on your shoulders tightened, his head away from you and shoved into the plush he fucked to the thought of you,, all because you were bouncing on his fat ass cock that only you know you could take fully, only you could sit on, as your warm walls were the only ones that hugged him perfectly.

"you like it when i bounce on your cock like that, hm? haven't you been fantasizing about it? fucking that plushie i gifted you like the desperate slut you are, huh?" you cooed, these nasty words leaving your mouth with a smile as you stuck a thumb onto kai's tongue.

"p-please,, y/n... if you keep bouncing on me l-like that... ffffuck.. i'm gonna f-fucking—" his words gagging onto your thumb, that pretty fucked out face, drool all over his chin and sweat now all over his palms,,, he whimpered as his tears welled up prettily in his eyes as he looked up at you with those pretty glossy eyes for permission.

"kai, do it... i'm on the pill." you slid your thumb out and smiled at him.

kai nodded and his hands frantically slid down to grab at your waist as he thrusted up into you, his hips rocking irregularly and his cock twitching inside you as both of you reached your climax.. both of you were chanting each other's names desperately. in between moans and heavy breaths, you felt his cum squirm inside you and that was enough for you to make a mess all over his face, chest, everywhere.

you fell forward onto his chest and you felt his heavy breaths against your jawline as his cock slid out of you itself. both your chests were rising and falling.. and your bodies calmed down against each other.

"can we stay like this?..." kai whispered in between breaths.

"of course, kai. you did such a good job ..."

"thank you for today, i love you..."

"i love you too, hyuka. you should've told me sooner."

you felt him smile against your face. you stayed like this with him for a while before you both drifted off to sleep,, with his arm still wrapped around you.

#hueningkai smut #txt hard thoughts #hueningkai hard hours #txt smut #hueningkai hard thoughts #hueningkai x reader #hyuka hard hours #hyuka x reader #hyuka smut #hyuka hard thoughts #xuri writes

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unmotivatedwrit3r · 6 months

Text

One in Eleven Million (ch.7)

damian wayne x reader x jon kent

(A/N): this is where the real-life experience I took to write this story runs out so please take any and all airplane/airline logistics with a grain of salt. And with that said, enjoy! I want to get the rest of this series out by the end of fall to hopefully have room to post the holiday fics I want to write so look forwards to the coming final chapters. And apologies, this is a short one.

edit: forgot to link the masterlist so here it is!

warnings: airplane travel, turbulence, emergency (not crash) landings, panic

wc: ~750

The next forty five minutes passed in some part conversation and some part Jon showing you dozens of pictures on his phone. He had a few really good ones of Superman (the older one) and some stunning ones overlooking Metropolis.

“My parents are reporters so they–they know people who take photos like this,” Jon explained to you, crunching on the airplane pretzels he’d reclaimed from Damian.

You pulled out a few photos of the Gotham skyline to show the boys in turn. Your photos didn’t live up to theirs, but with your not-high-tech phone camera, those were about the best you had.

A stronger bout of turbulence rocked even you, hands instinctively gripping the hard plastic of the armrests. A quick glance at Damian gave away that he didn’t find it regular either.

Jon’s “This is weird right?” overlapped with the concerned cries of other passengers. You turned to Damian.

“It feels more like a train right now than a plane.”

“I agree. This is irregular at best.”

You nearly missed the crackle of the loudspeaker from underneath the raised voices of those around you.

“Ladies and gentleman, there has been a slight issue with one of our regulators. As of now, all passengers and attendants are to remain seated for their safety. Our next step is to make an emergency landing at the Philadelphia airport where there will then be connecting flights to Gotham. If you would rather find an alternate method of transport, let the front desk know as soon as we arrive so any luggage is forwarded to baggage claim.”

You could barely process the new information over the sudden uproar.

“This has never happened to you, I assume?” Damian spoke loudly.

“No, nothing like this. I’d never even had a delay this bad before but this? No it-it’s crazy.” The answer to your question was chiseled into the shaken expression on Damian’s face but you asked anyway. “Either of you?”

Twin shakes of the head confirmed your assumption.

“It’s not an emergency right? Like I know it’s an emergency landing but not a fall out of the sky kind of emergency right?” Jon’s blue eyes were wide. You shrugged helplessly.

“I want to say they’d tell us if it was but-”

“But they’ve been less than forthcoming so far so why begin now?” Damian finished.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Exactly.”

Beside your seat, the emergency exit lights lit up.

“That doesn’t bode well.” Damian pulled the words out of your brain. “But panicking,” he hissed at the woman lamenting in the row behind you, “will not solve anything.”

You didn’t think Damian realized Jon was clinging to his hand. You didn’t think he knew he was holding yours.

“Jon, you’re shaking the floor.” The words came out harsher than you intended. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be-I just-it’s-”

“Sorry I just-” Jon switched from tapping his foot to holding Damian’s left hand in his, focus tuned on his fingers. Damian’s gaze was locked on where his right hand was linked with yours. You pulled away as if his gaze burned you. “I’m never flying commercial again,” Jon finished.

The laughter that bubbled out of your mouth was more hysterical than you intended.

Another bout of rough turbulence wracked the plane. You kept your hands to yourself his time, arms crossed against your chest to squeeze at your biceps.

You barely heard Jon’s whispered cursing underneath the panic rising throughout the rest of the plane.

Damian stayed quiet, but the hand that wasn’t held in Jon’s was tightly clenched. If he wasn’t human, you might have expected there to be holes bored into the head of an older man across the aisle. You wanted to quiet the guy yourself; his catastrophic ranting was only adding into your own anxiety. Instead, you spent a couple minutes making sure all of the stuff in your backpack was tucked away.

“He does know everyone else can hear him, right?” You asked as you sat up. Both boys chuckled. Jon’s fingers tapped rapidly on his thigh.

“Alright folks,” the pilot’s voice interrupted the catastrophizing. “We’ve begun the landing process. Please be aware that further turbulence is normal. We should be on the ground soon.”

“How much longer can they call turbulence normal?” Damian ground out. You didn’t have an answer for him.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent #damian wayne x gender neutral reader #damian wayne x reader x jon kent #jon kent imagine #jonathan kent imagine #jonathan kent #jon kent x reader #jon kent x gender neutral reader #one in eleven million #emerson writes sometimes

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vbecker10 · 1 year

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My Best Friend...

Part 2 of 2 (Part 1 here)

Pairing: Loki x plus size female reader (y/n)

Warnings: angst (of course), self depreciating thoughts, feeling inadequate, issues with self image, low self worth... but I promise lots of fluff - let me know if I forgot anything 💚

Summary: What you thought would be a relaxing girls night quickly turns into an interrogation by Nat and Wanda about your non-existent relationship with Loki. After denying you are anything other then friends for as long as you can, you finally tell them how you really feel about him... and why you know he will never feel the same. The night goes from bad to worse when you realize Loki overheard you talking to them and you try to hide from him.

A/N: I know I promised this would be all fluff but you should know not to listen to me lol also... I know this part got really long, I didn't want to make it three parts though

Tag List: A lot of people asked to be tagged in the second part of this which is amazing but I'm not sure if you want to be tagged in my other Loki fics as well so please let me know 💚

Dividers by: @harlequin-hangout

You leave the common room in a hurry and head down one long hallway then another. Stopping short at the end of the hall, you realize in your haste to get away from Loki and your friends, you've gone in the wrong direction. Instead of going towards the elevators so you could make your escape from the Tower, you found yourself at the library. You curse under your breath and wonder how you could be this careless. Turning around slowly, you know the only way to get to the elevators is to go back the way you came.

Your phone vibrates as you stand in front of the tall door, deciding if you should go in and try to hide here for the night or go back and risk running into Nat and Wanda or worse, Loki. Checking your phone, you see 10 new messages in your group chat as well as a missed call from both Wanda and Nat. Your finger hovers over the chat but you don't open it, you know they are worried about you but you can't talk to anyone right now. You just want to pretend the whole night never happened.

Turning off your phone, you take a deep breath then push open the door to the library. Wandering slowly through the large room, you make your way up one aisle of books and down another. You try not to think of how much the space reminds you of Loki but it is nearly impossible to keep him out of your thoughts. You make your way towards the back of the library, the part that reminds you of him the most. When you reach the last aisle you can't help but pause, remembering the last time you were here with him.

One day last week, Loki and you had made plans to get takeout and watch the final few episodes of a TV show you had both become overly invested in. He hadn't responded to your text about what he wanted to order so you went to his room but he wasn't there. You smiled to yourself, knowing exactly where he would be hiding as you headed down to the library. He would spend hours reading in the furthest corner with a cup of tea forgotten about but kept warm by his magic. Everyone on the team knew he was not to be interrupted when he was there, it was his escape after a difficult mission or a disagreement with his brother. This rule didn't apply to you however, Loki had made it clear to you that you were always welcome.

When you found him, he was sitting on the end of one of the couches reading a thick leather bound book. It was easy to see how lost he was in the story, his eyes shifted back and forth as he read the words quickly before turning the page. You leaned against one of the shelves watching him silently, not wanting to disturb him. After a few moments, he looked up and saw you waiting for him. He closed the book and apologized for losing track of time, he had meant to reply to your message but he wanted to finish the chapter he was reading.

You laughed, "How many chapters ago was that?"

He opened the book again and began to flip backwards, closing it with a smirk, "Six."

You moved to sit next to him then you picked up the book from where he had set it on the table. "What's it about?" you asked curiously as you looked at the foreign words on the pages.

When he finished telling you about the book you were hooked and quickly asked if he could help you find a copy in English you could read. His face fell slightly at your request and he responded, "Unfortunately, it is one that I brought from my personal library on Asgard." He paused, noticing how disappointed you looked. After a moment he smiled and said, "I could read it to you if you'd like."

You shake the memory away, Loki is supposed to start reading the story to you tomorrow but that might never happen now. Your heart begins to pound in your chest as you hear the door to the library slowly open and close with a light thud. Staying completely still and silent, you wait for someone to speak but instead you hear heavy footsteps and know instantly they don't belong to Nat or Wanda, it's Loki.

"Y/N, are you in here?" he calls out from the front of the library.

At first you don't respond, hoping he will go away but then you hear him coming closer. You walk backwards until your back hits a wall and you slide down so you are sitting against it. You hear him come to a stop a few aisles from you and at first you are unsure what he is doing. You bite your lip anxiously but then you hear your own voice, it's your voicemail message. He groans in frustration as he hangs up without leaving a message. His footsteps begin again, still coming closer as he makes his way down the next aisle.

"Y/N?" he tries again, you can hear the concern in his voice while he looks for you. "I know you didn't leave the Tower," he says and you curse yourself again for having made a wrong turn.

"Please... just go away Loki," you finally respond and his movement stops.

"Can we talk?" he asks over the shelves of books. You shake your head even though you know he can't see you. "I just need to know you are ok," he says.

"I'm fine," you answer with a sniffle as you wipe your eyes. You hadn't realized you had begun crying again.

He sighs, "I don't need to be the God of Lies to know that isn't true." He waits to see if you will answer and when you don't he starts to walk towards you again.

His footsteps become louder and slower when he reaches the aisle you are hiding in. He doesn't say anything and you don't look up, still hoping he will leave but you know now he won't. Instead you feel him sit next to you on the ground and gently place one arm around you, his hand slowly moving up and down your upper arm. You can't help but lean into him, allowing him to pull you closer.

Your mind wanders back to the only time you had ever hugged Loki in the six months you've known each other. A few days after you had begun talking everyday he had to leave for a mission and was gone for a little over a week. The data retrieval mission was ultimately labeled a success despite the intel being outdated and Loki getting injured. Thankfully, it was a shallow wound and he healed before the jet landed at the compound but that didn't stop you from worrying about him. You hadn't meant to hug him but the minute you saw him, you ran up to him and wrapped your arms around him tightly, telling him you were glad he was back. For an agonizingly long second, he didn't hug you back and you thought you had done something wrong but then his tall frame relaxed and he leaned down to hug you back. You could have stayed like that forever, closing your eyes as you pressed your cheek to his chest. Suddenly his phone began to ring and his hand left your back so he could talk to whichever woman he was supposed to see that weekend. As soon as he answered the call, you let go of him and walked quietly to your office, not looking back to see if he noticed you had gone.

Your memory caused you to shift uncomfortably and Loki loosened the gentle hold he had of you, allowing you to pull away. You look away from him and say again, "I'm fine, you don't have to stay."

"You are not fine and I'm not leaving," he says in a soothing voice as he touches your cheek lightly, wiping away your tears. "We can talk or we can sit here in silence all night, it is up to you," he tells you and you nod at the choices.

You sniffle and clear your throat before asking, "How... how much did you hear Loki?"

He rubs his hands together slowly, a gesture you know he only does when he is anxious, "I heard Wanda bring up Exhibit B and... I'm sorry I know I should have left, I did not plan on interrupting your girls night but I was curious." Your mouth falls open in disbelief, you had hoped he only heard the end of your rant about being in love with him, but he had heard almost everything the three of you talked about. You sit in silence next to him, not sure what to say so he continues. "Rogers and I completed our mission early and I only went to the common room to let you know I was back. I wanted to see you for just a moment, I've missed you so much the last two days," he says.

You look up at him, your mind trying to register what he had said. Loki had never told you he missed you before, even when he had been away on longer missions.

"I have to admit, I thought it was a bit silly that Natasha and Wanda were so adamant that we were dating in secret because-" he starts to explain.

"Because you would obviously never date me," you interrupt him without thinking. "Because you wouldn't want to be with someone who looked like me," you say as you cross your arms over your chest and look down. "I know, you only date tall, skinny, beautiful women and I am not one of them, it was pathetic of me to even pretend you might be vaguely interested in me."

"No, Y/N, that's not why," he says firmly but he can tell you aren't listening to him. "Please, look at me love."

The pet name is almost too much for you at the moment, you get up from the floor as quickly as you can without saying a word. You take a few steps away from him but stop when you feel his fingers close around your wrist. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry I ever said anything," you whisper as you look at the ground. "I should have just kept my stupid feelings to myself, I've ruined everything."

Loki pulls on your wrist slightly causing you to turn towards him as he walks closer to you. He stands directly in front of you, his other hand strokes your cheek then follows your jawline until he can gently lift your chin. You look up at him and he smiles in return then suddenly your heart begins to race as you realize Loki is closing the distance between your lips and his. He kisses you softly, his hand never leaving your chin while his other hand lets go of your wrist and settles on your lower back.

When his lips leave yours, you look up at him in utter shock and he chuckles lightly, "Can I speak now?" All you can do is nod as you search for words. "The reason I thought it was silly, is because if we were dating," he says with a smirk, "I would never keep it a secret. I would want everyone to know that you are mine and I am yours." You stare at him still not able to form a proper sentence.

"Do you know why I never go on dates anymore?" he asks after a moment of silence passes between you.

You shrug, finally able to speak again as he removes his hand from your chin but not your back, "Not really, it was right after we started hanging out. We never talked about it but... I just assumed you were tired of Steve and Tony telling you to slow down before you slept with every woman in New York City or because Fury would get really angry when your dates ended up in the tabloids."

"I would need to value the opinion of the three of them if either of those were the real reason," he says and you look at him confused.

"I'm not sure why then," you admit.

"I stopped going out because I had no need of them, I found someone I wanted to be with for more than just one night," he tells you. "Do you remember the first night we spent time together, just the two of us?" You nod and he smiles. "Gods, you were so adorably nervous when you asked me if I wanted to watch a movie with you. I never told you this but I was looking forward to it so much, I forgot to cancel my date that night. I had several very angry text messages when I finally checked my phone the next morning."

Before you can stop yourself you ask, "Wait, you want me to believe that you were so excited to watch a movie with me, you literally forgot to text a super model back?"

He corrects you, "I'm not sure if that one was a model or an actress, they all blurred together after a while and I honestly couldn't tell you the name of the movie we watched either." He pauses, taking note of your growing confusion. "Y/N, I had been wanting to get to know you outside of our few work interactions since you started at SHIELD and when you asked me to spend time with you, I was thrilled but also a bit shocked."

You look down at your shoes and whisper, "Nat dared me."

"She what?" he asks.

"Nat knew I had a crush on you so she dared me to talk to you more," you tell him. "She suggested we watch a movie but I told her you would be busy with more interesting things and there was no way you would ever agree to it... but then you did and I kinda panicked. I almost didn't show up for the movie but Nat practically dragged me to the common room. I'm glad she did though, cause otherwise we never would have gotten to be friends," you say with a laugh but your smile fades when you see he isn't smiling back. "Loki?" you ask.

"I've wanted to be more than your friend for so long Y/N but no matter how hard I try, you never let me in. Even something as simple as wanting to give you a compliment. You would come back with a sarcastic comment or a self-deprecating joke to bring yourself down. I don't like how you talk about yourself, love," he says.

"That's my defense mechanism," you tell him. "I- I thought you were just a shameless flirt because of the stories I've heard from Thor and the fact that you call everyone darling. When you say I'm beautiful or perfect I just- I would make jokes to remind myself that I wasn't either of those things and it was just your personality."

"But you are Y/N both of those things and more," he tells you and you can feel a blush creep across your cheeks. "Calling women darling is nothing more than an old habit," he touches your warm cheeks and you look up at him. "You are the only one I call love," he reminds you with a smile.

You can't help but giggle at the pet name he uses so frequently with you, "I had noticed that but I thought-"

"Stop," he says softly. "No more excuses," he urges and you nod.

"Y/N", he says seriously, "You are everything I have ever wanted. I love that I can spend hours on end talking to you or we can simply sit together and read in comfortable silence. It makes me feel lucky to know you worry about me when I am on missions and you are here, waiting for me to return. We have so many similar interests but you still manage to teach me new things constantly. I can't tell you how much I enjoy seeing this city with you every weekend and I wish I could bring you to see Asgard one day. I want to spend every minute I can with you," he pauses to chuckle lightly, "That's part of why I insist on you staying the night so often. I sleep better when you are the last person I see at night and the first person I see in the morning. You are caring and quirky, intelligent, sweet and you are perfect."

You stand in front of Loki in silence as your heart feels like it is about to explode with excitement. You smile from ear to ear, having never in your wildest dreams thought this was possible.

He puts his arms around you and pulls you flush against him. "I cannot believe you thought something as trivial as your weight would keep me from falling in love with you," he says.

You can't help but shrug, "I guess it sounds kinda silly when you say it like that."

He smiles, one hand firmly on your lower back while his other hand runs up and down your arm lightly. You look up at him, your arms around his waist. "I want to date you Y/N," he says simply.

"I would really, really like that," you tell him and he laughs at how excited you sound. He leans down to kiss you again and this time you kiss him back. When he breaks the kiss, his fingers gently follow the chain of your necklace until he is holding the charm in his hand.

"This is very pretty, my love, but I would like to make one small adjustment to it. Would you mind?" he asks and you nod, curious to see what he will do to it.

He closes his fingers around the small gold flower and a green glow spreads over his knuckles. When he opens his hand a few seconds later, the clear stone that was in the center of the flower is now a deep emerald green, the same shade as Loki's cape. You smile and say, "Green is my favorite color."

He chuckles, "I know, it's one of the many things I love about you." You kiss his cheek and thank him, he knew you had wanted the necklace with a green stone but the artist had sold out of those before you could buy one.

You take Loki's hand and bite your lip, "Um, so it's pretty late."

He smiles, "It is."

"Should I stay with you tonight?" you ask Loki.

"I think that would be a fantastic idea," he answers.

The two of you walk quietly through the Tower, back to his room still holding hands tightly. He opens the door to his apartment and lets you walk in first. As soon as he closes the door he puts one arm around your waist and pulls you close to him again. He leans down to kiss you then suddenly he picks you up. You giggle in surprise and put your arms around his neck as he carries you through the living room towards his bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He walks towards the bed then turns so he can fall onto it backwards with you on top of him.

As soon as his back hits the mattress you pull back from the kiss and instinctively try to move off of him. He lets go of you with one arm but keeps the other around you loosely. He moves your hair behind your ear and is concerned by your sudden change in expression.

"Have I done something wrong? We can stop, I didn't mean to go too far," he says in a worried tone.

"No, no, it's nothing you did," you say as you look away from him. "It's just... I'm too big to be on top of you like this. My ex used to complain about it, he said I was too heavy and-"

Loki kisses your cheek softly, stopping you mid-sentence. He makes sure you are looking into his eyes and he smiles. "Y/N... I carried you here," he says. "And I laid down first so I would be under you."

You blink slowly as you look at him beneath you, "You did."

"Which means..." he starts, hoping you will finish his thought.

"Which means... you don't think I'm too heavy?" you ask slowly.

"My love, I don't know many things about your ex but I do know that he never deserved you if that is how he spoke to you," he says. "You don't need to worry about that pathetic mortal anymore. You belong to a... how did you put it? Ah yes, a freaking prince and a god," he laughs a bit and you can't help but smile when he says you belong to him. "You know, I think I might have a talk with my brother about having my official title adjusted."

You giggle and bury your face in the crook of his neck, finally relaxing and allowing your body to settle onto Loki's. He hugs you tightly and whispers, "I need you to remember something for me Y/N, I don't love you because of your body or in spite of it, I love you wholly and completely, every part of you because you are perfect." You nod, taking in his words as he runs his fingers through your hair. "I will not let anyone speak ill of my queen," he tilts your chin so you are looking at him, "And that includes you. I want you to tell me if these ugly thoughts return to that beautiful mind of yours."

"I promise," you tell him quietly and he guides your lips back to his.

"We should probably get some sleep," Loki says and you agree. "Should I sleep on the couch or..." he pauses. You don't move from where you are laying and mumble with your eyes closed. "I have no idea what you said," he laughs.

"I want to cuddle," you say clearer, picking your head up a bit.

"Cuddles it is," he agrees with a smile.

The two of you get under the covers after quickly putting on clothes to sleep in. Loki lays on his back and you curl up with your head on his chest again, listening to his heartbeat as you close your eyes.

He kisses the top of your head while his fingers trace small circles on your back. "You know," he says quietly, "There is something else Nat and Wanda were right about.

"Hmm?" you mumble, barely listening to him as you drift off to sleep.

"Well, it does seem silly for you to keep paying rent on your apartment when you could just live here with me," he says.

You sit up just as he shuts the light off. "Goodnight love," he says with a smirk.

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writing-the-stars · 1 year

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Mikaelson Ball (Klaus)

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Fem!Reader

Summary: You attend the Mikaelson Ball, but not with who you expected.

Warnings: Angst (You Know I Have To Slip It In There), Fluffy Ending, Typical Mischievous Kol, Slight Caroline Slander, Klaus Being Idiotic. Let Me Know If I Forgot Something

Word Count: 3.4k (My longest one yet!)

A/N: Hey guys! This has been sitting in my drafts for a while now and I thought it was about time I shared it with you all. Obviously, this was inspired by the iconic Mikaelson Ball episode, Dangerous Liaisons, and I had a lot of fun writing this one shot. As always, thank you all so much for reading! I truly appreciate it and I hope you all enjoy! Feel free leave a comment or submit a travel request. Have a wonderful day!

Masterlist | TVDU Masterlist

Despondently, you stand on the balcony of the Mikaelson residence, looking out at the lightly illuminated forest before you. Morosely sipping on the champagne in your hand, you wonder how you had gotten to feel so foolish this evening. Had you read too much into the flirtatious rapport you and Klaus maintained?

When he invited you to his family’s ball, you thought it was his way of finally asking you on a date after months spent charming you, but you are beginning to see that was an erroneous assumption. The Mikaelson had not spared one glance at you all evening, instead devoting all of his attention to a young blonde you now have an unfair disdain for.

While there is clearly a significant class distinction between you and his family, was it preposterous to assume that the continual late-night visits and luxurious gifts he bestowed you with symbolized more than the bonding between friends? Perhaps it truly is just custom to the upper echelon. Finishing off your glass, you contemplate if you should just go home early and save yourself from any further embarrassment.

“Not much of a party person are you, darling?”

You spin around, startled by the sudden intrusion– hand clutching at your chest, willing your frantically beating heart to calm. “You scared me,” you announce to the interloper, relief filling you as you take in the sight of a handsome brunet– his dark eyes alight with mischief. The corners of his lips lift into a wicked grin, sending a rush of excitement to your abdomen. “My apologies,” he states, kissing the knuckles of your hand, “I don’t believe we’ve met. Kol Mikaelson.”

Your eyes widen at the revelation of his name, recognizing him to be one of Klaus’s many siblings. “Might I add, you look radiant tonight,” the Mikaelson continues with a charismatic smile, his eyes devouring every inch of your body. A light blush paints your cheeks. At least someone noticed.

“Thank you. I see you’re just as charming as your brother.”

The brunet frowns at your statement and you realize he must not know the connection. “I’m Y/N, Klaus’s friend,” you introduce yourself– the word tugging at the seams of your heart. You despise how reckless you were, taking the hybrid’s flirty nature to heart, especially now seeing how flirtatious his brother is. It is clearly within the nature of the family to be so winsome and you fell for it, developing feelings that will be nearly impossible to get over. Your propensity to fall in love too easily has yet again damned you to heavy heartache.

“Ah, so you’re the pretty little thing that has captured my brother’s attention,” Kol acknowledges, causing a bitter chuckle to fall from your lips.

“No, I am afraid that position belongs to someone else,” you inform the younger Mikaelson, his brows drawing in confusion. You don’t allow him much time to ponder as you begin moving towards the inside of the manor, announcing your departure as you have opted not to torture yourself any longer.

“Wait,” the vampire stops you, grabbing at your wrist, “Stay. At least allow me a dance.”

You contemplate his offer, not wanting to linger around the manor any longer, but also having dedicated so much time to prep yourself for the ball, it would be a shame to let most of that effort go to waste. Besides, when is the next time you would have the opportunity to attend such a glamorous event? Reluctantly, you agree to Kol’s proposal, emphasizing you were staying for a singular dance.

The Mikaelson smiles devilishly at you, “Perfect.” He offers out his arm and you accept it, allowing him to lead you into the grand room where he tells you to wait for him at the bottom of the steps.

A voice rings out from the stairs you just descended, garnering the attention of Mikaelsons’ guests. You watch the family gather on the beautifully decorated stairway, awed by their beauty. Each member had their own unique allure that demanded your attention– none more so than that of Niklaus Mikaelson. The suit– perfectly tailored to accentuate his physical build– was a sharp contrast to the typical Henley and jeans you see the Mikaelson wear. His mussed curls were brushed back highlighting the delicate beauty of his face. His physicality combined with the effortless, smug way he carried himself had you wanting to swoon. Your envy of the blonde deepens as your heart aches, longing for nothing more than to be by his side.

As if feeling your desire, for the first time this evening, Klaus’s gaze flits to yours and the hybrid is left mystified. He always thought you a true beauty, but to see it accentuated so magnificently left him speechless. His eyes linger, longer than he intended as he takes in the sight of you, hoping to burn the image in his mind. Pride swells in his chest as he takes note of the silver pendant dangling from your neck– the one he gave you a week ago. One of his most valued treasures.

You feel vulnerable under the intensity of his gaze, tearing your eyes away as the emotion swarming in you becomes too much to handle. You find Kol whose gaze is already waiting for you. He sends you a perilous wink, provoking his older brother’s ill temper.

“Welcome. Thank you for joining us,” the Mikaelson sibling announces to his guests for the evening, commanding the grand room.

“You know, whenever my mother brings our family together like this, it’s tradition for us to commence the evening with a dance.”

Unknowingly, your eyes drift back to Klaus, watching as he stands with his family in all of his grandeur. Visibly distinct from his siblings as his neck is adorned in white rather than the typical black bowtie of his siblings– a symbol of just how exceptional he is.

"Tonight's pick is a centuries-old waltz, so if all of you could please find yourselves a partner, please join us in the ballroom."

The room erupts with excited chatter as you stifle a groan. Your luck would have it that the one dance you agree to is a centuries-old waltz you have never performed before. Is it not bad enough that you have to deal with the self-humiliation of misreading all of Klaus’s advances, but now you will have to face an additional layer of public humiliation?

Kol is quick to meet you at the bottom of the stairs, as promised, holding his arm out for you. Reluctantly, you wrap your arm around his, confessing your inexperience as he leads you into the grandiose ballroom, lining up with the other dancers. “Don’t worry, darling. Follow my lead and you will be fine,” he reassures, smiling down at you with that devilish grin– oddly bringing you comfort.

The gentle strumming of a guitar begins as the two of you walk forward in time with the music– hands crossed in front of each other’s. Following Kol’s lead, you take another step forward, turning to face the line opposite of you. Sneaking a glance at the Mikaelson you love, you are alarmed by the animosity in his leer. You instinctively draw yourself closer to the younger Mikaelson as if his presence could protect you from Klaus’s enmity. Curious by your sudden action, Kol follows your gaze, finding the malevolent glare of his older brother– a devious grin plastering his face.

Due to the irksome rule his mother set in place of keeping peace with the people of Mystic Falls, Kol has been forced to find his amusement in other ways, like using his brother’s new plaything to make the hybrid jealous. His goal is to see how long his brother will allow him to seduce you before he snaps and causes a scene. He knows he’s playing a dangerous game, but Kol has always been enticed by danger.

A gasp escapes your lips as you are unexpectedly spun by the brunet– unprepared for the sudden movement. “Relax, darling,” Kol whispers in your ear, taking note of how stiff you are. You breathe deeply, letting the breath settle all of your nerves as you slowly give your trust over to the vampire. As instructed, you follow Kol’s lead allowing him to waltz you in a circle, traveling around the ballroom. You are quick to realize that the steps of the waltz are quite repetitive and, after a while, take no effort for you to enact. All the while, whispers of jokes and compliments have you truly relax in the Mikaelson’s arms as you giggle at his antics.

From across the room, Klaus surveys the two of you lividly. The one thing he asked of his siblings tonight was to leave you alone, and yet, there his brother was twirling you around the ballroom. He knows Kol is doing this to anger him, but he can’t help satisfying his brother’s childish urge to incense him when he watches how close the two of you are becoming. That same dazzling smile you greet him with every night is now being given to his infernal younger brother. That captivating laugh that softened the hardest parts of him was now in response to his pestilent younger brother. Those decadent curves he’s been waiting to run his hands over were now being held by his soon-to-be-dead younger brother. The hybrid begrudgingly tears his eyes away from the scene, knowing that if he does not distract himself soon, a spectacle will be made. So, he returns his attention to the blonde vampire in his arms and continues to charm her as all part of his master plan.

As you continue the steps, Kol leans in to whisper in your ear once more. Instead of the humorous observation you were expecting, he tells you, “This is the part where I leave you.”

You are not allowed time to react before you are spun out of the vampire’s arms into those of another Mikaelson sibling. As soon as the older Mikaelson’s arm wraps around you, you continue the repetitive steps, traveling in the opposite direction.

“You must be Y/N,” he speaks and you provide a nod of confirmation. “And you are?” you ask of the vampire– unsure of which Mikaelson brother you are speaking with now.

“Forgive me. I assumed with how special you are to Niklaus he would have informed you about the rest of his family. I am Elijah.”

An uncontained scoff exits your lips and the Original questions his previous statement, “Did I say something wrong?”

“It’s just that you’re the second sibling to say that to me, and yet, Klaus has not spoken to me all night.”

Elijah’s lips purse at the statement– curious as to why his brother neglected you when he made it very clear you were to remain off limits due to your status in his life. He is even more perplexed when he takes note of the pendant on your neck– a highly valuable item his brother accrued. Klaus swore that pendant would only grace the neck of the woman he deemed exemplary enough to wear it.

Nothing else of substance is exchanged between you and Elijah and the dance soon draws to an end. Bowing as you depart, Kol is by your side in an instant– arm being placed delicately on your shoulder.

“You are playing a dangerous game, Kol,” Elijah forewarns his younger brother, doing nothing to dissuade the mischievous Mikaelson.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, brother. I’m just keeping Y/N company.”

Kol takes your arm, leading you away from his sibling and the rest of the ball. Unseen by you as you walk towards the front of the manor, Kol passes by the infuriated hybrid, taunting him with a wink. The seemingly trivial action pushes Klaus over the edge, having him lurch toward his treacherous brother– ready to tear out his liver. Fortunately for the younger Mikaelson, Finn had already anticipated his ill-tempered brother’s reaction and put a stop to any harm that would be done to Kol.

“You didn’t have to walk me to my car, Kol. Thank you,” you state to the vampire once you reach the old Camry that has been with you since your high school graduation.

“Mother would be furious if she found out I let a lady walk to her car alone.”

You smile up at the Mikaelson brother who kept you company for the duration of your evening. Thankful to him for unknowingly saving you from your own humiliation, you give the brunet a quick peck on the cheek, sending a streak of envy through the lurking hybrid waiting to have a moment alone with you.

“Well, tell your mother she throws a lovely ball. And thank you for the dance, it turned out to be quite nice.”

The two of you part ways– Kol leaving a final kiss on your knuckles. You rummage through the small purse you brought with you, looking for your keys, when a new voice calls out to you– one you ironically dread to hear.

“Leaving so soon? And without a goodbye.”

You turn to face Klaus, a dashing smile on his face, eyes shining with innocence as if he had done nothing wrong. “Saying goodbye implies that we even said hello in the first place,” you tell the hybrid rather bitterly, returning your attention to the retrieval of your keys.

“You’re mad at me,” he informs you as if you couldn’t figure out your own emotions. You don’t dignify him with a response, grabbing your keys and attempting to get in your car. “Come on, love. Talk to me,” Klaus pushes, further stoking your irritation with him.

“Oh, you mean like how you talked to me this evening after you were the one who invited me. Forgive me if I’m not overjoyed to see you after having been ignored,” you hiss at the Mikaelson. While you are aware you can’t fault him for your own romantic presumption, you can be angry that he invited you to an event and refused to speak. Klaus’s nostrils flare. How dare you be angry with him after you spent the evening romancing with his brother.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so preoccupied fawning over my brother, I would have had the opportunity.” A humorless laugh leaves your lips.

“Me? Fawning? If anyone was doing any fawning tonight, it would be you with your pretty blonde date. Kol was there keeping me company while you were off galavanting with her, so don’t even try to make me out to be the villain. The only reason I even came here tonight was because you invited me. Had I known I was gonna end up being pawned off to your brother I would have stayed home! I thought this was a date, Klaus. I thought you were inviting me to be your date to the ball. Clearly, I was mistaken, so you do not get to play the victim here.”

Klaus does nothing but stare– the two of you too furious to have a productive conversation. You shake your head in incredulity at his behavior, having nothing left to say, and get into your car. How dare he be angry with you? And for what, dancing with his brother? He certainly lacked any intention of dancing with you himself. What did he expect? For you to show up and decorate the walls with your presence. The audacity of that man. You continue your rage as you drive back to your home, only relaxing once you feel the stream of hot water on your skin.

You exit your bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around your body as you shiver from the sharp temperature change. The warmth that encased you from your steamy shower becoming replaced by the chilly air of your drafty bedroom. You look towards your open bedroom window as a gust of cold air breezes by you– eyes rolling in annoyance. Typically, you leave your window open so Klaus can come in for his nightly visits, but you are in no mood to speak to the infuriating hybrid. You doubt he’ll be dropping by this evening anyway.

“Was that meant to keep me out, love?”

A frightened gasp escapes you as you quickly turn around, meeting a pair of familiar blue eyes. “You know, just because you’re a vampire and can move in silence, doesn’t mean you have to,” you scold the hybrid standing in your bedroom– back in his typical Henley and jeans. Your hand rests over your heart, willing it to recover from the scare.

He chuckles, amused by the oblivion of humans, “Ah, mortals. I forget how frightful you lot can be.” You roll your eyes at the Mikaelson, ignoring his apathetic statement. “What do you want, Klaus,” you harshly demand, tugging the towel closer to your body. He sighs, annoyed by your loitering emotions, “We’re still angry I see.”

“I am really not in the mood for this, so if you could kindly leave my house, that would be greatly appreciated.”

You turn your back on the hybrid, moving toward your dresser, hoping that he will be gone by the time you turn back around.

“I came here to apologize, love,” the Mikaelson admits, stilling your movements. If there was one thing you learned about Niklaus Mikaelson through all of the stories he shared, it was that he NEVER apologizes. “What,” you question, turning to face the hybrid, uncertain you heard him correctly.

“I’ve recently had a bit of a heart-to-heart and I realize that you are right.”

You sink to the foot of your bed– your brain having trouble processing the information it is being presented. “Okay,” you breathe, unsure of what else to say.

“I fancy you, Y/N.”

“Then why-”

“Caroline is just a mere distraction,” Klaus responds, having anticipated your next question, “You don’t live to be a thousand years old without acquiring a few enemies over the years. If anyone were to discover my feelings for you, they would use you as leverage. By devoting my attention to Caroline, she becomes the target while you remain safe. She means absolutely nothing to me.”

Silence hovers between the two of you as you analyze the gravity of this new information. All those nights you spent exchanging stories and laughing until sunrise were just as equally treasured by Klaus as by you. The flowers, the drawings, the jewelry, the little moments of silence, and the shared moments of vulnerability all were valued, all were cherished just as fondly. Your bond with the Original Hybrid had not been imagined, had not been one-sided. A smile graces your lips at this revelation. He cared for you– enough to put someone else’s life at risk. To parade around feigning love for someone so that you remained unharmed. Not only did that seem unfair to the girl, Caroline, but ironically idiotic for one of the most intelligent men you knew.

“Klaus, this has to be one of the stupidest things you have ever done,” you chuckle at the hybrid’s plan, “Rather than just confess your feelings for me, you opt to pretend to be in love with someone else so that I’m safe? You couldn’t have thought that would work.”

He frowns at your laughter– not expecting the conversation to go this way. In fact, this whole evening went rather unexpectedly for the Mikaelson. He had envisioned how the night was supposed to go, all everyone had to do was act accordingly. Now he is beginning to see not everyone is a pawn he can so easily move around.

“Yes, well, I had your safety in mind. The details were irrelevant.”

Your laughter echoes around the confines of your bedroom amused by his poor plan conceptualization. Klaus would be irritated by your laughter had it not become something he is obsessed with. And while you may think of his plan as silly and moronic, he knows how successful it was at keeping you safe, and that is all that mattered to him.

“I’m glad that you’re amused, love. May I be forgiven now?”

You smile up at Klaus unable to resist the charm of that smile. Walking towards the hybrid– the man that you adore– you bring your lips to his, finally fulfilling all of your fantasies. “I’ll consider that a yes,” the Mikaelson chuckles as you break away from the long-anticipated kiss.

"Put me through that again and I'll ram a stake so far up your-"

"Noted, love."

Taglist: @catmikaelson20 @jennyamanda8 (I couldn’t remember if you wanted to be tagged in all of my TVDU post or just Elijah. If just Elijah, let me know and I will remove you from the general taglist!) @tsukilover11 (Same with you. Let me know if you want to be removed from the general list!)

If you want to be a part of my taglist, please submit an ask and I will happily add you!

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yuzurins · 4 months

Text

# to tell you the truth

12 — meeting, number three?

smau masterlist ∗ previous chapter ∗ next chapter

“chigiri, you’re late.”

you tap your foot impatiently as the person in question (who also happens to be project leader) quickly runs up to you.

he splutters out a quick apology as he catches his breath. “i’m really sorry! my class was held back longer than i expected.”

sighing, you uncross your arms and go over to help hold the project stuff he was carrying.

chigiri looks at you with pleading eyes. “please don’t be mad.”

“it’s fine, just tell me–” you quickly glance over to the person standing beside you. “i mean us, ahead of time if you’re going to run late.”

he grins and does a quick bow. “yeah, sorry!”

“let’s go.” you nod back, before turning and walking in the direction of the campus library, leaving the other two behind.

chigiri gives a look to rin, as if to question him “what happened?”, but much to his disappointment, rin returns the same look back.

“so?” the redhead starts.

“nothing happened.” rin rolls his eyes. “she came here, glared at me, and then we just waited for you.”

“you waited in silence for 15 minutes??”

“yes.” rin replies, but he doesn’t make eye contact. chigiri notices this but lets it off when he notices you leaving the building.

“suspicious.” he raises a brow. “but let’s go before we get left behind!”

rin picks up one of the bags that chigiri had brought and motions for him to go first.

“how chivalrous of you.”

“shut up.”

though the tension was high at first, it became less awkward faster than anyone had originally expected it to be. as top students, work ethic had a bigger influence than past grudges, and you weren’t going to let all your previous hard work go to waste. before you knew it, you actually forgot you were working with the itoshi rin, the one guy who can ruin your mood in a split second.

but you can’t lie, seeing rin’s talent for art made you feel envious; he really was good at everything (though you would never admit that).

“you know, i think we actually make a pretty good team.”

you blink. “what?”

“i mean, look at how productive we’ve been!” lightheartedly, chigiri laughs, without any fear of the potential hole he’s about to dig himself into by starting this conversation. “it looks like we might actually finish this today.”

seeing as how relaxed the he was, you reluctantly put a smile on and decide to humour him. “yeah, we should totally do this again.”

“what-“ rin almost chokes on his water in response to your (meaningless) joke, which surprises you as you expected only a scoff from the boy. however, it seems like hes the dense one here, because he for one can not tell when the slightest tone of sarcasm is being used.

on the other hand, someone does take advantage of your sarcasm. “oh? i’ll take you up on that!”

you glare at the red haired boy, but to no avail are you able to get him to evoke his proposal. “i thought you said we might be able to finish this today…?”

chigiri raises his brows and smiles. “we still have to decorate!”

he’s really pushing it.

a sigh barely escapes your lips before he follows up in attempt to ease your growing irritation. you couldn’t help it, after all, chigiri’s making an obvious attempt to get you to spend more time with rin.

“well i mean, it’s early anyways. i think we can get this over with today.” though just barely noticeable, you notice him starting to sulk, and you just slightly begin to feel bad for him.

“whatever.” you close your eyes. “can’t say i’m opposed.”

chigiri’s face starts to light up, and he jumps out of his seat, a bit too eagerly. “really!?”

he’s excited, you’re not too sure why, but that all ends as you tell him, sternly, “except since you said so, we aren’t leaving until we do finish.”

dejected, he slowly falls back into his seat. “everything?”

“everything.”

a light chuckle comes out of the boy sitting across chigiri. you nearly miss it, but it’s too memorable for you to not notice; as if your ears are accustomed to this sound from hearing it more often than you’d like to remember.

your eyes shoot towards the direction of the laugh, and rin freezes from all the sudden attention. he realizes quickly that your gaze is pressing for an answer, but in all honesty, he himself doesn’t even know how to respond.

“what?” he splutters. “there was something in my throat.”

you squint your eyes at him, unconvinced. “just so you know, ‘desperate for grades’ me and ‘regular’ me are not the same.”

“am i supposed to feel threatened by that?” he questions, amusement growing in his tone.

“yes.” you reply immediately. “in case, you know, you think i actually tolerate you now or something.”

“i’m not delusional.”

you raise a brow. “you sure about that?”

there’s a pause before another word is spoken. you notice the slight shift in his demeanour as you watch rin process your words, hastily open his mouth after. but instead of uttering a rude remark, he closes his mouth and looks away, clenching his fist.

confused, you look towards chigiri, but he’s as clueless as you are.

the productive atmosphere soils, and the awkward tension that inevitably trails you and rin around returns once more.

it’s only the sounds of typing, writing, and your wondering thoughts that fill the study room.

why was he getting offended after a joke that he started himself? was it something you said? was it how you looked at him? did he get self conscious because it’s true? or offended because you were extremely off? you wouldn’t know.

you don’t understand rin at all, and after hearing such from not just rin, but reo as well, you’re well aware that that’s a fact.

“so,” chigiri speaks up after what feels like a millennia. “how much research do we have left? can we start decorating the display?”

“i’m practically done, did you bring the stuff?”

he nods, walking over to take all the arts supplies out of the giant bag he brought.

“rin, how about you, are you ready?” chigiri asks, but all he gets back in response is an irritated glare.

a frown adorns your face as you pity chigiri for having to deal with rin’s childish attitude due to your rivalry with the latter. it made you feel responsible for brightening up the atmosphere, even if it wasn’t your problem at all that rin couldn’t handle a joke. “it’s fine, we can start without him.”

but the response you had believed to be the most harmless one (which was avoiding the problem), turned out to be the worst one yet.

rin slams the papers he was holding down onto the table beside his laptop. he lets out a deep sigh and turns to look at the two of you. “no. i’m not.”

“‘kay,” chigiri starts, before slowly sitting down and flashing you a quick glance of alarm. “i’ll look over everything again, just let us know when you’re done.”

this won’t do.

you absolutely hated the fact that rin was being a selfish prick right now, but despite your opposition, it would be too much for chigiri to handle this guy alone. which is how you came to the conclusion that it was time to bring out the fabricated extroverted version of yourself deliberately prepared to deal with awkward situations with strangers. you just had to mentally prepare to delude yourself by erasing every single interaction you had shared with rin, and all the feelings of resentment you held towards him. easy… right?

it was going to be a long, long, day.

notes: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE SHITTY CHAPTER T_T i just wnated to lyk that y/n is an extremely unreliable narrator and that everything written in their perspective is only what they deduce from the environment around them!!!!!! please enjoy and i will be definitely doing better with the smau posts instead of written chapters lMFOA

pairing ∗ itoshi rin x f!reader

synopsis — all you wanted was a peaceful and productive uni life, but despite your pleas, your plans start crumbling when the star of the football team, itoshi rin, begins to beat you in every aspect possible. as you confront the inevitable, what happens when you uncover secrets behind an unforgettable event from the past?

taglist 1/2 ∗ send an ask / comment to be added or removed

@kitorin @rinsque @jleijl @rintosei @strawberrypockybox @beanxiv @ode2rin @h4nman @hanmastattoos @kaitfae @idk-bro-gay @piichuu @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @invictax @chaosinanutshell @exatse @kirameki-kumo @xoxojisu @mellozhi @certaindreampost @limerence-lu @nutsinspector @kawaii-angelanne @rroxii @saesins @anngelllla @anurst @y-sabell-a @hellothere9597 @evilenchantresss @msameikanevaeh @saesofficialwife @reiners-milkbiddies @f1yh1gh @celioderso @amenial @wooasecret @kascar-chronicle @izonoi @biaonww @blissblossom @sereniteav @1lovestrawberrymilk @hearts4itoshi @yeojeolmi @arxliana @janbannan @leeyzhuo @kiritokunuwu @geombyu @jiaspoon @yunxbin @p3achiee (if your name is in bold it means i can't tag you)

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reverie-starlight · 1 year

Note

hello ^^ May i request night routine with semi, oikawa and suna?

of course! this is so cute, I love it!! also I wasn't sure if you wanted HCs or not, so I did a little drabble/scenario for each <3 also, oikawa’s ended up being MUCH longer than semi and suna’s and for that i’m sorry, i just had so much fun writing his section.

also I’m SO sorry this took months to post, I’ve been extremely busy with midterms and exams and school in general. Thank you so much for requesting!

{nightly routines with them- suna, oikawa and semi}

warnings: none! just fluff. and i’m sucker for oikawa using spanish pet-names after learning the language and living in argentina, so shush let me enjoy it.

gn!reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

suna

You checked the time on your phone and sighed. It was getting late, but you didn’t want to move from your position on top of your boyfriend. His hand stopped running along your back. You made a noise of protest and buried your face further into his neck. He chuckled.

“Y/n, we should start getting ready for bed. We both have an early start tomorrow.”

You frowned and shook your head. “No. Please, can we just stay here for five more minutes? I’m so tired.”

“I’ll carry you to the bedroom if you’re that tired, baby, but we really do need to get ready.”

“Fine, I guess.”

There was some shuffling and murmured apologies as Suna got up and disrupted your comfortable position, then you were up in his arms and being carried away.

This is often how nights with your boyfriend started- one too tired to leave the couch the other dragging them to get ready. It had been integrated into your nightly routine at this point.

He plopped you down to the bed and kissed you on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

You reached out for him and took his hand. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To get the bathroom ready so we can get our routine done? Are you that tired that you forgot?” He teased, snickering when you swatted his finger away from your face with the hand you were holding.

“I don’t want you to go, though, can’t we skip it tonight?”

“Baby, you’re going to be frustrated tomorrow when you realize you went to bed without doing it.”

“But I don’t want you to be far awayyyy,” you dragged on and he rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay, I’ll carry you there, then, you clingy baby. But we’re not skipping a day.” He picked you back up from the bed and journeyed to the bathroom.

“Mhm, I love you, Rin.”

“Love you too.”

He sat you down on the counter and kissed your cheek. “Open,” he requested.

You obliged, and he started brushing your teeth for you, making sure to be gentle while still doing a good job. When he was finished with that, you rinsed your mouth out and leaned against him as he brushed his own teeth.

He sighed as you nuzzled into his neck, fairly certain you were falling asleep on him again. If his mouth wasn’t full of toothpaste he definitely would have given into the urge to kiss your head. He rinsed and wiped his mouth. Since you were facing the other way, you couldn’t see the slight smile on his face or the adoring look in his eyes as he wrapped an arm around you and stared at the sight in the mirror, eternally grateful that he was lucky enough to spend yet another night with the love of his life.

oikawa

Nights with Oikawa had become... chaotic since moving in together in the best way possible. You had your doubts that this part of your routine wouldn’t get old quick, but nearly a year later you were still taking part in this silly little tradition that you both adored.

You tried to be nonchalant as you looked at the time on your phone. It was getting late now, and in the Oikawa-L/n household that only meant the games were about to begin. You felt bad for your neighbours downstairs who had to put up with this at least four times a week.

“Tooru, can you get me some water please?”

“Of course, my love, with ice?”

“Sure, thank you.”

The second he was out of sight, you were sneaking off to the bathroom. If you could just get there undetected, you might have a chance at winning-

“Going somewhere?”

You shrieked and looked over to where the voice came from.

There he was, leaning against the wall with an annoying smirk and a quirked eyebrow, water in hand. “Did you seriously think I would fall for the water trick? You did this last month too... are you running out of ways to best me, beautiful?”

You scowled. “I am not, I was just retesting it.”

Truthfully, you knew he’d catch on- he was insanely observant, sometimes to his own detriment, and slightly cocky, too. That’s exactly why you had to use it to your advantage to win your little game. He needed to be humbled after almost a month of consecutive wins.

He was clever but you knew how to work around it almost better than anyone.

Taking the water from him, you rolled your eyes as he laughed. “Retesting it, right. Are you sure you’re not just getting complacent? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you enjoy losing to me, baby.”

He lead you back to the couch and sat you down. “Oh please, you wish. Besides, how do you know I haven’t just been letting you win?”

“We both know you’re way too competitive for that, my love, but it’s a nice sentiment.”

You grumbled under your breath and took a small sip of your water. He’d eat his words by the end of the night and you’d be living like royalty for the next 24 hours.

Honestly, you lost sight of the rules after a month of your game. It wasn’t even really anything serious, just a little bit of fun- a way to keep up the playfulness in your relationship. And despite the teasing and your determination to win, neither of you ever took it so far that it turned into resentment.

It was only a race to see who could finish their routine and get under the covers first, after all.

Some nights were more strategic and planned out, others were just straight up feral. It really depended on the mood of the instigator (it was pretty evenly split between you and Oikawa starting it from night to night).

Tonight you were going for a mixed approach.

“Tooru, I love you.”

He smiled over at you. “I love you too, Y/n. So much.”

“So much,” you agreed. “Keep that in mind, please.”

He side eyed you. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” you said, slowly getting up from the couch, him following suit almost immediately.

You took a sip of your water again. “Hmm, it’s perfect, thank you baby.”

His eyes widened in realization. “Don’t you da-” he was cut off by some water being splashed in his face.

You wasted no time running for the bathroom, cackling the whole way as your boyfriend took off after you. “You’re going to pay for that!”

The adrenaline pumping through you right before bed was worth the past few days of purposefully losing and biting back remarks that would give you away.

You squealed as you felt a hand grab at you from behind and you tried to shut the bedroom door, but Oikawa was a pro athlete. He easily opened it against your full weight and lunged for you.

You giggled and dodged, running to the bathroom and starting on your face. He came in two seconds later and grabbed your hands. You struggled against him, trying to get your facewipes back, but he pinched your sides and you gave up on that idea pretty quickly.

He picked you up and pulled you into the shower, laughing along with you. “If I had to get wet, so do you! Stop squirming!”

You couldn’t even put up a fight with how hard you were laughing at that point. He stood with you under the water, shoulders shaking and trying to catch his breath.

He finally composed himself a couple seconds before you did and all he could do was admire you. The sound of your laugh was music to his ears and your smile was contagious. Even with messy hair and soaking wet clothes, you were still the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

“I’m sorry I splashed water in your face,” you said through the last of your giggles.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into the shower while you still had your clothes on.”

You shrugged and started pulling them off. “I had to shower tomorrow morning anyway, now I can sleep in a bit longer.”

He followed suit once again. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all, I’m feeling a little clingy now, actually. I love you so much.” You wrapped your arms around him and pecked his cheek.

“I love you too, mi vida.”

semi

It was already hours past when you had said goodnight the first time, but you just couldn’t fall asleep. After a while of tossing and turning, you decided to wake your fiancé up.

“Mmm, what’s wrong? You okay?” He sat up when he felt you shaking him and rubbed his eyes then leaned over to turn a light on so he could see you better.

“I can’t sleep. I’m tired, but every time I think I’m about to drift off I wake back up.” You said with tears in your eyes. Not being able to sleep when you’re exhausted was extremely frustrating.

He frowned and stroked your cheek in sympathy. “I’m sorry baby, you should have woken me up sooner.”

“You were so peaceful, I didn’t wanna disturb you. I’m just all out of ideas on what to do now.” You leaned into his hand and his heart fluttered.

He thought for a moment. “Why don’t you go to the bathroom and wash your face with warm water. It should soothe you a bit. I’ll have something ready for you when you get back.”

You pouted. “You don’t have to get up, it’s okay. I don’t want to make it harder for you to get back to sleep.”

“No, don’t worry about me, sweetheart, I just want to make things better for you. Meet me back here, okay?”

You nodded and went to wash your face. Five minutes later, you were drying your hands and focusing on the warmth of your freshly rinsed skin.

“Baby, are you almost done?”

“Yeah, I’m coming now!” You called from the bathroom.

When you walked out into the bedroom, you were greeted with a smile from your fiancé. He was ready and waiting for you on the bed with his guitar in hand.

“You’re gonna play for me?” You cuddled into his side after getting back into bed.

“Mhm, you’ve said before it relaxes you when I play. I thought we could give it a try tonight.”

You thought back to all the times he’s played for you before and how you always felt a wave of calm wash over you. You nodded up at him and got comfortable, still attached to his side.

He began playing a slow, soft melody that you recognized as one of the first songs he ever wrote for you in the early days of your relationship. He hummed along to it and you felt it from where your head was on his chest. The vibrations mixed with his voice and the guitar were enough to get you sleepy, and this time you were able to drift off without any issues.

When he noticed you were finally asleep, he carefully set his guitar down under the bed and slowly shifted so he was lying down with you. He reached over to turn the light off.

He kissed the top of your head. “Goodnight, baby, sweet dreams.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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