#but it’s not and if i express this anywhere i’m treated with shock and yet another rec to try it out

[petitemistletoe]

Voyeur-Pt. 2

Pairing: Austin Butler!Elvis Presley x Reader

Warnings: angst for sure!! slowly approaching smut but nothing full on... yet 

Word Count: 1.8K

Elvis was drinking and playing cards with Henry as if he wasn’t harboring the secret that he was in love with you. 

“So! You gotta tell me all about your tour, EP! What’s it like?” Henry asked, looking at Elvis with sheer adoration and wonder. Elvis could tell that Henry was a little jealous, which made Elvis feeling a little better about his jealousy of Henry.

“Oh, I mean, just incredible. There’s no high like getting up on that stage and performing for all those fans. I am a very lucky guy.” Elvis said with an almost shy smile. 

“Oh EP, it’s good to have ya back!” Henry punched Elvis’s shoulder. 

“Henry! Have you seen my pink underwear? I can’t find it anywhere!” You yelled from the other room, storming into the living room where you unexpectedly found Henry and Elvis sipping beer and chatting. You felt your face get hot as you accidentally revealed some very personal information to your boyfriends best friend. 

“Sorry baby, haven’t seen ‘em.” Henry chuckled at your shocked expression, “you haven’t seen them have you, EP?” Henry howled with laughter. You let out an easy chuckle and slumped down so you were sitting in Henry’s lap. Elvis went white and took a long sip of his beer. If only you knew.

“So do you have any big projects coming up?” You asked, leaning forward. 

“I have a show down in Houston this weekend so I’ll be leavin’ in a few days. Say, why don’t you both come with me!” 

“Oh my! I’ve always wanted to go to Houston! I hear swimming in the gulf is just like taking a dip in the hot tub!” You grinned. Elvis’s heart began to swell in his chest. 

“Ah shit, I can’t. I gotta big presentation on Monday in Louisville, I’m leaving with the company on Saturday.” Henry swore. The balloon heart popped. “Say,” Henry began, “Why don’t you go with EP, baby? Seeing Houston has been a dream of yours for a while now. Don’t let me stand in the way.”

“Go…just me and Elvis?” You asked. Elvis was looking between you and Henry like a tennis match. 

“Why not? Elvis, you’ll take care of my girl won’t you? Keep her safe?” Henry looked at Elvis with a giant grin on his face. 

“I, uh, absolutely! I’ll even make sure we get a chance to go out to the gulf.” Elvis smiled. 

“Well, all right!” You clapped your hands, “My god! I need to go shopping and get a new dress and a swimming suit!” 

Elvis felt like his heart was in his throat the entire week leading up to the show. Knowing that he was going to get time alone with you was enough to make him nervous. He pulled up to your house in a cherry red Cadillac and honked the horn playfully a few times. You emerged in a mint green mini dress and an ostentatious pair of sunglasses. It looked like you had gotten your hair done and Henry was carrying a clearly brand new piece of luggage behind you. 

“Oh my god! This car is absolutely gorgeous! I feel like a real socialite!” You hopped into the Cadillac and pushed your sunglasses up onto your head. Elvis could see you were wearing gentle makeup that made you eyes look bigger and your lips fuller. Henry tossed your suitcase in the trunk of the car and leaned down near the window of the driver’s side.

“EP can I talk to you for a second?” Henry looked serious, which made Elvis nervous again. 

“Yeah, yeah. You got it. Why don’t you pick out the radio station, honey bee?” Elvis said before getting out of the car. 

“Listen, I just wanted to say that I’m real grateful that you’re taking my girl with you. It’s all she’s been able to talk about for days. I just…I know what’s it like when you’re on tour and I don’t want my girl to see any of that shit, you understand?” Henry had his hands jammed into the front pockets of his jeans and he was blushing fiercely. 

“Hey Hen,” Elvis clapped his friends shoulder, “I’ll treat her like she’s my own. I’ll make sure none of that happens, alright? I need a break anyway. It’s high time I have a nice show and just settle to bed after. It’s what my momma thinks happens anyway.” Elvis grinned. Henry released a relieved chuckle.

“Thanks EP. I love ya.” Henry smiled. Elvis got back in the car and Henry leaned over the passenger side window and kissed you goodbye. “Y’all have fun, okay! Take some good pictures for me, alright!” 

Elvis didn’t say anything until Henry was just a speck in the rearview mirror. You had taken your shoes off so your feet were up on the dash and you were scanning the radio stations for one that didn’t sound all staticky. You started laughing when found a station playing Hound Dog. You were singing together as you zoomed down the highway. 

The night of the concert, Elvis thought his heart was going to stop short when he saw you. You were wearing a black mini dress and a pair of white boots. He saw you clapping and dancing around in his peripheral as he performed and he felt like he had to focus on making sure he wasn’t hard while he was on stage. 

“Elvis you were amazing!” You said, jumping into his arms as he left the stage. 

“Thank you darling! I heard about a great barbecue place for dinner a little ways out if you’re hungry!” 

“Oh I’m starved!” 

“Alright then. We gotta go right now then. Before the girls mob the car.” Elvis grabbed you by the waist and you ran to the car as the crowd just started to break through from the doors of the venue. You saw the girls run after the bright caddy as Elvis peeled out of the lot and then floored it until the city roads turned to country roads. You could smell the scent of barbecued meat on the wind and you knew you were getting close.

“What are you feeling like? I heard this place has the best brisket, sausage, pulled pork.”

“Let’s get a little of everything! And some potato salad and macaroni salad and banana pudding!” You looked like you were on cloud nine, you felt like you were on cloud nine. You felt like those socialites you saw on TV. And you loved being around Elvis, you always had. He was Henry’s best friend so it was almost like he was your best friend. Seeing him perform felt otherworldly but so did sitting across from him in the tiny barbecue shop with sauce all over his face. Elvis had excused himself to the bathroom, so you were all alone at the table when a tall man in a black cowboy hat stalking over to you. You had a few beers, too many really, you weren’t that big of a drinker but being around Elvis was a whole different feeling and brought out a whole different side of you. 

“Hey cowgirl,” The man drawled. You giggled and stood up on the seat of the booth to take his hat and put it on your head. 

“Hey cowboy.”

“Can I buy you another drink, pretty lady? Looks like you’re running low on yours.” He said, squeezing into the booth bench next to you and twirling the empty beer bottle between his fingers. 

“Looks like I am. I like your accent.” You smiled, leaning in closer to him.

“I like yours.” He put his arm around you and leaned into you so your noses were nearly touching. The cowboy’s easy expression changed, however, as he was lifted and tossed from the seat. Elvis was standing over the cowboy.

“This lady has a man,” Elvis seethed, “Get off of her.” Elvis grabbed your forearm and pulled you away and back to the car.

“Elvis…” You still had the cowboy hat on and you were feeling embarrassed. You were with Henry, you had no business flirting with a strange Texan-even if you were drunk. 

“I’m sorry, honey bee, I shouldn’t’ve left alone. I told Henry I’d keep you safe.” Elvis said quietly. You didn’t answer for a while, your head was still spinning from all the alcohol. You could smell however, the unmistakable smell of salt water. 

“Are you taking me to the gulf?” You broke into a grin. 

“I promised you I would,” Elvis said, his easy smile returning to his face. The car took a turn and the car pulled in smoothly to a sandy area that overlooked a large clear body of water. You leapt from the car, kicking your shoes and tearing your dress off before diving in the water. 

“Where ya going?” Elvis said, sound a little alarmed. 

“Swimming! You coming?” You floated on your back in the water and Elvis stared for a second before looking away. He felt the metaphorical devil and angel sitting on his shoulders. He thought for a moment, you were his best friend’s girl. But then he heard you giggle and he thought what the hell, tore the clothes off his body, and dove in after you. 

He paddled over until he was close to you in the water. You were laughing and you wrapped your arms around Elvis’s neck. 

“Thank you! I’ve never had more fun. I wish I could tour with you full time.” You batted your eyelashes at him. 

“Me too, honey bee. This has been my favorite show yet.” Elvis was wracking his brain, desperately trying to find a way to invite you on the tour. 

“Can’t believe I have to go back to work on Monday. I hate working at the McKinley.” You worked at the concierge desk at an extravagant hotel in downtown Memphis. 

“Say, why don’t you come and handle the accommodations for all our sets. I think that’s too big of a job for my daddy on top of all the manager stuff. I’ll talk to the colonel but I can pay you double whatever that silly little hotel is paying you!”

“Oh Elvis!” You kissed him excitedly. You back away and laughed again. “Aw god I really am drunk!”

Elvis had a small smile on his face as he watched you paddle towards the shore. 

#austin butler smut #elvis presley!austin butler #austin butler #elvis presley #elvis presley smut #baz luhrmann elvis

[amooo1023]

How about Magolor with a human reader who has an piece of ancient tech like the Lor but a train instead? Romantic because I’m a simp.

As for headcanons/one-shot, eh, your preference here:

What? Asking about something so specific to my self-insert? Why would you accuse me of such, I would never!

Sorry for the long wait! I still hope this oneshot was worth the wait! Also if it sucks I'm really sorry.

Magolor x reader ROMANTIC oneshot

It was a normal peaceful day in Dream Land. You were doing your usual routine naps and your train Mapop Spacefarer was thriving.

*CRASH*

You jolt awake immediately from the loud sound. Well, maybe you weren't entirely awake you still felt dizzy and your vision was blurry. You lazily get out of bed while yawning slightly.

You usually don't ever get up from your bed when you hear loud sounds. But this time it was different. The sound came in from your train and if it's what you think it is, then you'd have to fix your train.

You walk towards the sound, vision still blurry. But it was enough for you to distinguish objects. There was smoke spreading across your room. You raise an eyebrow at this, but you still keep walking towards your destination.

Until you spot a ship in your train. Your train was absolutely destroyed. You sigh to yourself, angrily tapping your chin.

Whoever crash landed into your ship is going to help you fix your train, or at least pay.

You angrily stomp towards the ship with a pissed expression on your face. A small blue robed figure gets out of the ship. Though your vision was still blurry you could easily spot that figure from anywhere. It was-

"MAGS?" You say surprised. The figure looks back at you. Though you can't really make out their face yet. "Y/n?" He responds with surprised voice. So it was him. Your vision starts clearing up.

You eye the ship and then your train, then Magolor. "Really nice way to meet an old friend, huh maggy?" You say chuckling to yourself while eyeing the ship. You continue. "I thought you wanted to live in Halacandra."

Magolor eyes you for a few seconds. "And I see you have the Mapop Spacefarer" He responds nonchalantly, though obviously faked. You chuckle. "Yeah, I uh, kinda stole it." You respond awkwardly. Magolor averts their gaze on you. You can see Magolors hands twitching slightly.

"Mags if you wanted a hug you could've just asked you know?" You say chuckling slightly. The mage hovers towards you in lighting speed and immediately embraces you in a hug. Slightly taken aback from the speed of the hug. You slowly envelop your arms around Magolor. Despite you knowing he would hug you quickly it still surprises you every time. You pat his back in a comforting matter. To which in response he starts hugging you slightly tighter.

You chuckle to yourself thinking about all of your memories you shared with Magolor. He isn't that different from how he was before. Maybe you could give him a little treat later, for old times sake. Or maybe that st-

"Y/n, you zoned out." He rolls his eyes with an annoyed expression plastered on his face. You snap back to reality with a still dazed expression on your face. You chuckle  awkwardly to yourself. "Sorry mags, I didn't mean to space out there." If it weren't for Magolor breaking the silence between you two, you would probably still be in a trance.

You pat his back uncomfortably signaling you wanted a bit of free space for yourself. To which he complies and let's go, floating just two steps away from you. Resulting in you getting a chance to get a better look at him. You haven't realized just how exhausted Magolor looked(or was). Shock immediately filling inside you. How could you not have noticed yet? First day of meeting your friend again after so many years and yet you haven't payed any attention to your friend's emotions at all. You mentally slap yourself. Magolor obviously takes notice of your shifts in behavior and shoots you a skeptical expression.

"Damn it maggy, it's in the middle of the day and you're already tired?" You utter with a rather annoyed voice. The egg eyes his ship and then your train, then his ship, then your train, repeating the action multiple times at an attempt at making you notice where he's getting at. You luckily take notice and realize exactly what he means, making you mentally slap yourself again. Right he did crash land right into your train.

"Alright mags you've got a point. Maybe the whole crash landing thing should've been obvious since you wrecked my train." You remarked. Magolor gave you a frustrated glare. If he could furrow eyebrows at you, he would. You ignore his frustration and began walking towards the Lor Starcutter examining the ship for any scratches or and broken parts. Surprisingly, the ship remains relatively intact and not having many marks on it at all. Sure, you knew the Lor Starcutter was ancient and much more resilient than many other drivable vehicles but this was just insane.

"Some of the gears to the Lor are missing, but other than that there's not much else." You jolt away immediately not realizing just how close Magolor had gotten to you. Magolor instantly snickers at your reaction. You roll your eyes at Magolor's snickering and blow raspberries at him. Magolors expression changes almost in an instant after seeing your tongue. A tint of blush appearing on his face and then vanishing as soon as it came. You loll your head to the other side baffled by his expression. But you decide not to pry Magolor about it. Your train is the most important thing right now.

You hurriedly get up and examine your train. The Mapop was completely ripped away of It's once gleaming beautiful colors and was instead replaced with gloomy gray colors. And for the final touch a gigantic hole in the train. It's completely wrecked. You wouldn't be able to sleep in your train anymore, not without getting cold wind onto your body or very hot temperatures. But you didn't exactly have any other options at the moment. You have to get this train fixed as fast as possible. You weren't exactly sure how long it would take you to fix your poor train though. You sigh defeated over the train's now sorrow state. A gloved hand taps your back comfortly at an attempt at creating some reassurance. You look up at Magolor waiting for some sort of response. But nothing came just soft soothing tapping on your back.

"Magolor where the FUCK WILL I SLEEP!?" You yell at the mage. Magolor stops in his tracks (pun intended). His ears droop shocked from your yelling. The mage stays quiet for a few moments, not knowing what to say. His ears perk up again. "You could live in my ship for the time being. I'm sure Lor wouldn't mind." Magolor offers. You turn away from Magolor thinking about his offer. Well, you didn't have much of a choice here. "Fine, but only because I have nowhere else to stay." You respond coldly. Magolor doesn't bat an eye at your sudden on the edge behavior. After all he'd feel the same if anyone destroyed his ship.

"I'll make it up for you Y/n, I promise." Magolor promises with a genuine tone in it. He continues. "And you won't be paying this time." Magolor finishes. A smile perks up on your face. "Finally, I was starting to think I'd pay for every dinner we have together." You laugh rolling your eyes in a joking manner. Magolor doesn't join in. You pet his hidden ears soothingly making sure Magolor was at least comfortable with it. The cat mage blushes at your action but quickly swats your hand off of his ears, seemingly embarrassed. You chuckle amused by his embarrassment. You peck him on his cheek. Causing him to blush more furiously than before as his ears twitches in unison.

"Alright, I know just where I wanna go."

_

Small waddle dees serve you your favorite dish and waddle back into a door. A lovely entrancing smell emits from the meal making your mouth already salivate from the smell. You dig in to the meal as if you haven't eaten in years. You just realized how hungry you were. You take another huge bite into your meal as thousands of flavors flow into your mouth like a river. You just had to thank Magolor for this. You look at Magolor and notice that he had no food to eat. This made you curious.

"Hey mags how come you don't have any food to eat?" You ask rather confused. "I can't eat anymore." He answers hastily while tapping his.. fingers? Well, he was at least tapping on the table's surface rather impatiently. You eye him even more puzzled than before. "Mango, mango, what do you mean you can't eat? We used to eat lava cakes all the time before." You pried. He visibly hesitates before answering. "Look dude just eat." He responds vaguely while avoiding eye contact. You wanted to pry further, but decided to continue eating instead.

You take another bite into the food, though this time the food not giving off much taste, only leaving off a cold feeling inside your mouth. Making you lose all your appetite you once had. You were never a fan of cold food.

Still, you just couldn't set your finger on it, but wasn't it a bit weird that the food got cold after you only left it for a few seconds? Almost as if this were some poorly written fanfiction you would only find on wattpad? Almost as if the author was too lazy to make more whole sentences about food and skipped it just because they wanted to continue with the story? Nah, that can't be it.

Magolor was eyeing your food and then you, as if looking for conformation if you were done eating. To which you nodded in response. He sighs almost relieved with your answer. You were starting to get a bit worried over the egg mage. He's been overly anxious the minute he got here. "Magolor is everything okay?" You ask. Magolor stays silent almost as if he was trying to find some sort of excuse. "Like you said before Y/n, I'm tired." He responds.

Sure, he was tired but you knew Mags. There was something else he was hiding. "Can we leave now?" Magolor asks impatiently, already getting up with little to no hesitation and reaching out his gloved hand towards you. You snort at Magolor's still ever everlasting impatience. Out of all the traits he kept his impatience is what had shown the most. The mage glares at signaling you to hurry up, his hand twitching anxiously. "Look, if you don't want a free ride back then be my guest! Or you could stop wasting your time and GRAB MY HAND!" You roll your eyes at Magolor's sarcastic speech he just gave you, visibly and provocatively hesitating to take his hand, at an attempt to get a reaction out of him. Which you did since he grunted at your overexsaggerated  hesitation. And then finally you take his hand. To which Magolor sighs in relief.

"Finally, I thought you were going to take forever." Magolor uttered. You snorted which Magolor rolled his eyes at, well attempted to make it seem like he was. Just as you were about to make a sly comment you two were teleported into the Lor.

-

"Here we are." Magolor states, hovering to his seemingly big computer screen already typing on his keyboard. You stare at him with an annoyed expression.

Not this again. He always does this when you're with him.

You grab his hand, stopping him from typing with it as he turns around and eyes you with an expression screaming annoyance. You give out a deep sigh. "Mags, I know you want to avoid me- for some reason.." He looks at you with a knowing expression and starts turning away from you. You hurriedly begin to continue with your speech. "OKAY FINE, I know you're still mad at me for what I did." Small glances from the past fill you with guilt.

You look down to the floor avoiding eye contact, Magolor seemingly doing the same expect looking towards the screen instead. "BUT- uh! Don't you want to watch a movie instead? You know, forgive and forget?" You finish nervously as you look up towards Magolor. He looks around the ship for a few seconds, his eyes stopping at the couch. He turns around to meet your eyes again. "What did you have in mind?" He asks with a more calm tone in his voice. A sigh of relief escapes you as you try to come up with something to watch. An idea snaps into your head. "How about Invader Zim enter the florpus?" You suggest. Magolor stares at you with a confused look. "What's that?"

You mentally slap yourself, oh right aliens don't have the same streaming services like you humans do. Also wasn't that movie incredibly old by now? I mean it did come out in 2019 when earth was still relatively okay, and what year was it now? 40XX something? Damn, you couldn't remember. "A human film from when earth still existed. You beings probably don't have it. It's fine though, I still have the movie downloaded on my phone." You pull up your phone and point at it. Magolor stares at your phone and shrugs. Well in your eyes it looked weird since he only had two floating hands with no arms accompanying them, but still he was shrugging.

"So, uh- where do you suppose I could stream the movie? Do you have a TV or something?" You questioned. Magolor eyes the couch and then the weirdly big TV on the wall and looks back at you with a pissed look. "Yeah, what are you blind?" He insults. You roll your eyes at the egg's snarky attitude. Of course he had to insult you, but then again that just means he's not using a fake personality around you.

"Well? Where is it?" You retort. Magolor shoot you a smug look and points towards the big TV screen, as well as the couch. An 'ohhhhh' sound escaping you at the realization. Magolor rolls his eyes and grabs your hand, hovering towards the couch not even warning you before yanking your hand with him. You yelp back at the sudden yank from Magolor and immediately pull your hand back. "What the HELL Magolor?! I think I can walk perfectly fine on my own towards a couch." You hiss and sit down on the sofa. Magolor sits down beside you and averts his eyes from you. "I'm- uh-" He blurts out, not finishing his sentence. You eye him perplexed.

Was he actually going to apologize?

"You're what?" You urge him to continue. "I'm sorry Y/n, I just got a bit, impatient." He finishes. You snort, making him glare at you.

Magolor NEVER apologizes. Yet, here we are.

"Jeez, maggy what's with the sudden personality change?" You snickered sarcastically. He rolls his eyes at you, averting his gaze from you instead directing his attention to the blue TV. Was everything blue in this ship or something?

"Can you turn on the movie already?" He says nonchalantly. You snort at Magolor's attempt to escape your teasing. "Woah, hasty are we? We haven't even gotten any snacks yet!" Magolor looks to the side for a few seconds, seemingly thinking about something and then snickers. You eye him skeptically. Just as you were about get up from the couch, a hand stopped, you signaling you to sit down again, which you complied. "I'll get the snacks instead." Magolor states calmly. You eye him with a puzzled expression plastered on your face.

Oh so he was going to do it himself instead? That's unusual.

"Alright, but no breaks after that! I don’t want you to miss the movie." You inquired, while pulling up your phone getting ready to connect your phone to the TV and stream the movie. He rolled his eyes and hovers into the kitchen in lighting speed, if there was a door there he would've slammed his face straight into it. You patiently wait for him to come back with snacks. You were hoping it would be something with chocolate (if you don’t like chocolate you can pick something else). A few scrambling sounds could be heard from the kitchen.

What the hell was he doing?

Until finally the sounds had died down. Magolor came out with a bowl of chips and caramel bites as well as some licorice skulls in his hands. You shrugged and patted on the sofa signaling Magolor to sit down with you. He floated towards you and placed the bowl on the table and sat next to you. You immediately started streaming the movie from your phone onto the TV. As lights flashed onto the TV screen, Magolor visibly squinted his eyes at the TV. Maybe he wasn't used to watching TV? An anime-ish Dib appeared on the screen.

"I used to be able to look at space, with hope and wonder in my eyes." Magolor stared at the movie with a confused look and turned to look at you. "You didn't tell me this movie was an anime! Marx told me all about this." You looked back at him and gave him perplexed look. To which he just squinted at while Dib was monologuing. "Mags, it's not an anime. It's a cartoon." You snorted and grabbed a mouthful of chips as you stuffed them into your mouth with no hesitation. Your cheeks looking similar to a hamster's. "Slob.." Magolor mumbled while snickering to himself. You giggled and looked back at the TV, munching onto the chips. Dib was done monologuing, instead being cut into the kitchen as Gaz was getting ready to eat.

You sat in silence watching the movie intrigued and laughing at many of the jokes, Magolor on the other hand was full on serious and didn't understand most of it, instead only laughing along you although not fully getting it. He would constantly ask questions like: "Why did HE do THAT?!" And "That's obviously not going to work!" And "Seriously? He couldn't find out a better way?" And so on.

He also seemed more clingy and on you all the time, not to mention.. tired. He was resting his head on your shoulder, one hand was resting on your shoulder and the other on your lap. His eyes were droopy and half lidded, ready to fall asleep at any second. Your bowl of snacks was already empty and finished. The movie was soon over, just a little bit more. You stared at the TV screen hoping it would soon me over. Dib's dad was undoing the moose and!-

A loud thunder was suddenly shot down. The TV turns off immediately as well as all the lights in the ship, making the whole ship dark and unable to see or tell apart objects from. Oh, the power cut out. You sighed and turned on the flashlight on your phone. Making the ship at least a little visible. Wait, why wasn't Magolor doing anything? Was he asleep? Just as you were about to check if Magolor was sleeping a snoring sound shot from him. Ah, well that confirms it. You got up from the couch and turned the light infront of you carrying along Magolor with you as you made sure not to fall or trip. You cautiously walk forward, trying to find the stairs leading up to the bedroom.

As you walk forwards something smooth and soft wraps loosely around your leg.

What the..

You flash the light on your leg, a tail similar to a cat's  wrapped around it. You give out a relived sigh.

Oh, it's just a tail.

You flash the light back in front of you contuing your adventure towards the bedroom. Until you stop mid in your tracks.

WAIT A TAIL?! Whatever, you could ask Magolor about this later all that matters now is getting to that fucking cursed bedroom.

You treked back on your way going up the dark stairs, still carrying the mage in your arms. You eventually reach the top of the staircase and make your way to the room. You carefully step inside, Magolor is still asleep in your arms, thankfully. You place Magolor down in the blue-purplish bed and tuck him under the covers, covering him up to his shoulders. When you finish, you grab your phone and search for a blanket or maybe a pillow for Magolor to use as a pillow. There's not much to choose between from what you could see at least. You decide on grabbing the biggest blanket you could find. It was red, and had some random symbols on it. Not wanting to wake the sleeping Magolor up with the blanket, you carefully lift his back..? head.. up and place the blanket under his head. You then let go of Magolor's head and let it rest on the blanket now acting like a pillow.

You sigh to yourself relived over finally tucking the mage to bed now all you had to do was go to your room and sleep. You carefully start making your way out of the room and-

Wait hold on.. did Magolor ever mention you having a room? Fuck, he didn't even show you around his ship. Where the hell were you supposed to sleep?

You couldn't explore the ship because of how dark it was. So that's a no. You could sleep on the floor, but that would be uncomfortable. You look towards the bed and then Magolor. You did just carry Magolor all the way to his room, weren't you deserving of sleeping in a bed then? You silently make your way to his bed and quietly sit on the bed. You gently push him to the side, careful to not wake the kitty mage up. You cautiously lie down on the bed and drag the blanket over you, setting yourself off to sleep as you close your eyes and drift off to your own world

A shuffling sound comes from Magolor's side as two hands snake around your waist. He pulls you closer and hugs you tightly. Your breath hitches and you felt yourself blush. Your face heats up and you slowly put your hand on his ear and rub it softly, in a petting motion. He happily chirps as soft purrs sound in your ear as he nuzzles his face under the crook of your neck. His warm breath tickles your neck and you feel yourself shiver. His warmth is almost burning you.

Oh so he's awake now.

"You were so loud." He snickers with a drowsy tone. You nod along too tired to defend yourself and continue your petting motion on his ear. A tail proddles your leg rubbing soothingly. You curiously reach for the tail.

Maybe this was you wanting to push boundaries but you were willing to give it a shot.

His tail shifts away from you, swaying from side to side provocatively. You groan and shift your hands back to his ears. Magolor snickers and moves his tail back to your body, running circles on your leg. You smile as you try to ignore the feeling of warmth surrounding your body and the warmth of the tail running circles on your leg. He nuzzles against your neck, a gentle caress to your skin, you can't help but lean further into his touch.

You snort and shift your hands under his cloak, reaching all the way to his ears and gently petting it. Magolor's purring grows even louder as his tail wraps around your back and pushes you towards him, leaving no personal space. "Since when were you a cuddle-bug?" You snicker as Magolor groans with an annoyed tone as his ears shift in your touch. "You're terrible at this.. Let me help." Magolors hands shift to your wrist, controlling your hands movement. He contently hums with his now gained control. You roll your eyes at the mage who had just so naturally ignored your tease.

His ears impatiently twitch to your fingers as he hastily carefully guides your movement and rubs your hands on his brown soft ears. His breath hitches as he stares longingly in your eyes. You awkwardly smile back looking away to the side, not knowing how to feel about Magolor's intimacy. Magolor notices and quickly averts his gaze away from you as a soft blush tints his cheeks. "Mags, I know you love to be in control, but could I please have my hands back? Just use your words, I'll listen." You ask. Magolor's ears twitch as he hesitantly moves his hands away from your wrist.

You snort and continue the movement he had shown you. He leans into your touch as soft chirps and purrs emanates from his body. His eyes closes just blissfully enjoying your petting. "How's this?" You state. "Terrible, just let me do it." His hands jolt towards your wrists. But you quickly remove your hands from his ears and shift them to your back as you snicker. Magolor whines at this as his ears droop down onto your head. "Use your words, cuddle-bug." You tease. Magolor groans as his hands shift towards your face, cupping your cheeks. You blush surprised with his action.

"Finee, move to the lower side of my ear, at the left." Magolor huffs out, his hands leaving your cheeks and instead pointing to his ears. You oblige. As you lay your palms next to his ears, Magolor starts to purr deeply, his chest vibrating lightly against yours. As he continues to purr, you start stroking his ears, rubbing them gently and slowly. Magolor lets out another happy hum as he starts relaxing completely. He starts purring even more loudly. "Cuddles are nice.." Magolor mumbles out, his breathing slow and steady. You chuckle lightly and continue to massage his fur, scratching behind his ears as well.

Until you stop, sighing deeply to yourself as you shift away from Magolor. Magolor eyes you and shoots you a confused look. His tail quickly wraps around your torso, dragging you back towards him again. "Magolor, can I.. vent?" Your voice suddenly changes into a more quieter tone. Magolor seems to loosen up and shuffles into your neck, giving you a 'go ahead'.

"I didn't think I'd see you.. Not after what I did to you at least." You pause giving yourself more minutes to breathe. Magolor seems to take a hint because he starts uncomfortably shifting in your neck. You awkwardly chuckled though not lighthearted and instead more solemn. "I thought I would never see you again. And even if I tried.. I thought you would just push me away. I was so worried and paranoid that I-" You heavily gulped  your voice more raspy then before. Magolor stayed still, unmoving. "-started convincing myself that you were better without me.. Surprise, surprise it didn't work. It only made things worse.. I even tried convincing my mind that we were still together, still best buds. It worked, well better." Magolor carefully started to soothingly trace your palms and nodded, giving you some sort of reassurance. You started to sniffle pathetically to yourself, still trying to keep a straight voice. "It haunted me, what I had d-done to you. The only person that made me feel.. complete." You emphasized through the sniffles. "But now being with you here right now has made me realize something.." You chuckle while softly rubbing one of Magolors ears. He leans in way too gingerly, purring into your touch. "I guess what I'm trying to say here is-" You sit up from the bed gazing face front towards Magolor. You lean down and without thinking you kiss him. Making his entire body freeze as a visible shiver runs inside Magolor, his face going beet red. Your lips leaving his warm fluffy body. "I love you." The words escape you almost too gingerly.

And that's when you realize what you had just done.

Your face immediately flushes in embarrassment as you look to the side and hide your face with your hands. Shame was the only thing you could feel right now. Well, shame and embarrassment. The mage is still frozen in place.

HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?!

"ohnoiamsosorrymagolorididn'tmeanitcanyoupleaseforgiveme?I'lldoanythingtofixthisjustpleasepleasegivemeachance.thiswasamistake." You sputter out barely thinking through your sentence. Magolor finally springs back to life, face still red.

This was it, this is where it all ends. Magolor was going to reject you and you wouldn't have a place to stay. Good job, you just ruined a lifetime bond you used to have. Hurray, go you!

Until you suddenly get tackled back down to bed, by a flustered egg resting on top of your chest. Magolor giggles with giddiness in his tone. "Awh, you love me?" He rhetorically asks, smugness tinting his voice. His tail quickly wraps around you.

You couldn't even imagine how your face looked now. You had 2 emotions at the same time, shock, relief and embarrassment.

You could literally only say- "Ajajidkallsj" Magolor chuckles and lovingly snuggles into your chest. "Hmm, I don't really know what 'Ajajidkallsj' means. Could you be more-" "I love you so much." You shout excitedly, cutting off his sentence. You heard Magolor laugh and he lifted himself up slightly to face you properly. His face was a bit flushed but overall he looked pretty content. You grin widely at him, showing every one of your teeth, which earned you another laugh. He gently pulls your hand towards his face and nuzzles against it tenderly.  "Aww, someone loves me~" Magolor purred, his tail wrapping tighter around you. You hum happily, burying your face into his chest.

He chuckles. "I love you too." His tail loosens its grip on your arms, allowing you to pull back. A wide grin spread across your face as you leaned forward to give Magolor a kiss. He eagerly leans in towards your lips, waiting for you to kiss him. Your lips meet his flesh and slowly departs away. He giggles as his blush goes another layer darker. Your hands find their way to his cheeks, thumbs tracing his cheekbones. Your eyes locked with his as you continued to caress his face. His eyes slowly close and you gently run your fingers through his furr. He hums as your fingers run over his ears. 

You begin to carefully pet his ears earning you some soft purring from the mage. Magolor relaxes in your touch, closing his eyes. You let out a light-hearted chuckle. "Goodnight cuddle-bug." Magolor chuckles and opens his eyes again, staring straight into your eyes. "Call me.. your king." He whispers while emphasizing 'your king' and stiffles a chuckle. You roll your eyes lightheartedly and laugh. "Fine, goodnight my king." You kiss him where supposedly his forehead would go. He laughs and closes his eyes, drifting off to sleep. You join in the slumber. Drifting off to your own world.

-

"Can I open my eyes now?" You giggle at Magolors request. "Not yet! Have some patience for once in your life mango!" You lightheartedly mock. If you could see his face right now, he would've probably already be rolling his eyes at you. "Yeah, yeah sure. Now when are we there?!" He huffs out. You chuckle whilst rolling your eyes at the mage. "Patience~" You hum out playfully. Magolor grunts out in annoyance. You can hear his tail flicking back and forth. You chuckle, already reaching your destination. You remove your hands from his face "Okay okay, you may now open your eyes!" Not even wasting a second,  he opens his eyes immediately at the word 'open' revealing the beautiful night sky accompaniedby the shining stars. "Finally-" He huffs out although stopping mid sentence right after his eyes dart over to the sky.

You laugh as blush starts forming on your cheeks. You move towards him and proudly bow until making a quick twirl, flailing your arms towards the sky. Making a pose similar to someone who had just performed on stage. "Ta da! So what do you think?" Magolor stares at the sky in awe, mesmerized by the beautiful twinkling stars in the night sky. (Well, I guess I could call it space but nah, don't feel like it.)

Magolor eventually nods. You grin and sit down onto the dirt ground. He joins you sitting right beside you. "You always did seem to have a particular interest in astronomy. So I thought why not bring you here?" You softly smile, eyes focused on the stars but also the view. Although, you couldn't help but notice how some stars had slightly different colors from one another. Sure, not a huge difference between them but still a difference. Some had a tint of-

Two hands had suddenly darted towards you, embracing you in a form of hug swiftly dragging you towards him, causing you to yelp by surprise. "Thank you for all this." Magolor thanks and nuzzles into you. You proudly grin and kiss him on his forehead. "Anytime, cuddle-slut." You giggle. He roles his eyes, clearly annoyed by the nickname. A red blush forms on your boyfriend's face as he nuzzles into you even more as warm heat emanates from him. You couldn't help but laugh at Magolor's affectionate act. It was kind of cute seeing him this affectionate with you.

He parts away from the hug, now being a big red mess. He laughs and hastily grabs your hands, holding them affectionately. You roll your eyes, not in annoyance but somehow in playfulness. It was nice being like this with Magolor. Having your train fixed meant for surprise trips with Magolor. "I love you." You giggle and kiss him again. "I love you too." Magolor let's go of one of your hands and gazes towards the stars. He slumps onto your shoulder in a tired mannerism. You chuckle.

It's calm like this. Just sitting here stargazing with your boyfriend.

You never want this to end.

#AHHH IT'S DONE #HALLOW I'M SO SORRY IF THIS IS BAD!! #i hope you enjoyed it #magolor x reader #romantic #oneshot #x reader #ask #fanfic

[taleasnewastime]

Heyyyy!! 💜 Would you be able to do "I don't think I've ever seen you smile." with Seokjin? Torn between hurt/comfort and E2L so I'll leave the decision to you 😅 this pic inspired the quote choice

Hello!! This Seokjin is just amazing, I mean any suited Seokjin is great. I went E2L vibe, hope you like :) 

Warnings: swearing

“Back home we used to find a lot of joy when new shows from here were released.”

It seemed it was the wrong thing to say, given the mans condescending smile and knowing eyes. As if to say: of course you would have found joy in such things where you are from. It irks you enough to carry on.

“But aren’t you a film maker?” You pause, not long enough to let him answer. It was a rhetorical question anyway. “And yet we were never sent any of your works.”

Your innocent tone doesn’t hide the insult. And the shift in his expression, the way his eyes open and the silence stretches as if he doesn’t know how to respond, makes it hard for you to not show how pleased you are.

“Then what a treat it will be for you to discover them now.”

It’s your turn to stiffen. You haven’t even seen the person, yet you would know that voice anywhere.

“Seokjin,” you say through gritted teeth as a body steps beside you.

“Y/N, a pleasure as always,” he says smoothly. “And Jonathan. It would be an honour for me to show Y/N here what she’s missing out on. Perhaps Floral Morning would be a good place to start?”

You twist to look at Seokjin as the man replies. Neither of you reply, neither of you taking much interest in what the man is saying. Both of you are just staring at one another. You with a face of thunder. Seokjin with a small smile and raised eyebrow.

“That’s great Jonathan,” Seokjin turns back to the man. “Now, if you’d please excuse us. It looks like Y/N here needs a top up.”

You don’t have much of an excuse to turn him down, the alternative being staying here with Jonathan. As Seokjin turns, despite everything telling you not to, you end up following.

“Things are going well then?” Seokjin comments when you catch him up. “Charming everyone as you so often do.”

You hum, unable to come back with a good enough quip quick enough. With Seokjin you’ve learnt it’s sometimes better to remain silent.

“Well, you’re honestly not missing out on much. Floral Morning; I’m impressed at myself for plucking that out of thin air. Though it would have been easier if you hadn’t insulted the man.”

You’re shocked he’s being so candid. He’s never like this. Well, the slight insult at the end at least put him back on track to being the Seokjin you know. It steadies you enough to keep you in the room and realise that he’s handing you a drink. You’re about to take a sip when you think better of it.

“This isn’t poisoned, is it?” You sniff the clear, bubbling liquid.

“I’d have far better ways of killing you then poison, I assure you.”

You hum, take a sip and then say, “like what?”

It was your first mistake. Your second being taking another sip of your drink while he speaks.

“I don’t know,” he pauses a second. “Ever watched Gone Girl? That looked like a good way to go.”

You splutter on your drink, have to cough up some of the liquid that’s attempted to go down the wrong way. Sex. The death in Gone Girl happens during sex.

You twist towards him to gage his face because surely he’s not suggesting … but there’s a wide, shit-eating grin on his face letting you know he knew exactly what he was saying. Despite yourself, you laugh. The noise stunning Seokjin and a few others stood close by.

“You know, Y/N,” he says when the noise dies down. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile. I quite like it.”

#seokjin fic #seokjin drabble #seokjin fanfic #seokjin angst #drabble game

[synonymroll648]

Ok ok ok hear me out. Sokeefitz Body Swap AU.

(TW for referenced child neglect, and outright child abuse. Not everyone is luck enough to live in the Ruewen household. If this triggers you please feel free to delete this.)

Keefe swaps into Fitz's body, and is immediately awoken by a knocking on the door. It's not the pounding that he's used to, but instead a light little tapping on the door. It's Biana, and she outright asks him if he's feeling okay, because he hasn't woken up this late in years, and she wanted to make sure that he wasn't dead. Keefe tells her that he's fine and she tells him that there's food on the counter downstairs and that she's going over to Linh's.

Keefe nods and waits until she's gone before tip-toeing downstairs, as to not disturb Alden or Della. To his shock, he doesn't have to worry, because neither of them are anywhere to be seen. As it turns out, they're busy, and as he'll find out soon, they're always busy. Everglen deathly quiet, it's almost like no one's here at all, even though he knows that's not true. The lights in both Della and Alden's offices are on, yet he sees them only once in the next three days that he's been there. So, Keefe worries about him self, for the first time in a while. He works out, he learns to cook, he goes out and draws, he has time to himself and peaceful time to himself, for the first time in a while. He doesn't need anyone to escape, he simply has himself.

Fitz swaps to Sophie's body, and is shocked at how tight-knit the Ruewen's bond is. The casual touches and expression of affection that happen at all times. He's surprised when he wakes up to Edaline cooking breakfast, and Grady telling him little jokes, and how close they are to one another as well. Edaline wrapping her arms around Grady and pecking him on the cheek, Grady kissing her on the forehead before he goes out to feed Verdi, all the little things.

He's also surprised by how busy Sophie is, and how much she overworks herself. Her desk has piles of paper work, she has check lists upon check lists upon checklists to complete, only in one day, and he instead uses that time to get to spend time helping all of those around him, because he's not used to anyone helping him, and it's a nice change. Also because Sophie needs to manage her self-care and care for other people better, girl is getting around two hours of sleep.

And Sophie swaps to Keefe's body, and she is horrified at how much Keefe's been hiding. She wakes up to the pounding of the door and the screaming of Cassius, terrified, she immediately hails him (or, herself really) to try and figure out what's going on. After being redirected to Keefe in Fitz's body, she asks him what to do. Keefe, very apologetic, can only offer what he did, go stay with other people.

Sophie is hesitant at first, but after a screaming match with Cassius decided that that is in fact a Very Good idea, and so, she stays around. She goes to Havenfield and Everglen of course (and nearly cries when Edaline hugs her for the first time in a week,) and even explores some of the Lost Cities with all of her free time. It's a constant revolving door of Sophie. Solreef, Everglen, Havenfield, Rimeshire, Slups and Burps, heck Stina even tolerated her at Sterling Gables for a while. Sophie learns how to rely on others. She learns that kindness isn't only in obvious acts, but also in the subtle ones. Also she's learned how to make way too many prank elixirs.

Anyway yes Sokeefitz Body Swap AU.

[id: an ask that reads ‘Realized I probably shouldn’t have sent you that absolute monster of an ask but you asked for ramblings about sokeefitz and you got ramblings about sokeefitz so honestly I’m blaming this on you. /lh /j’. end id.]

it was 3:45am when i saw this and 3:47am when i finished reading it and AESRFGDSBFDYHJUTKYLIUFGRTDHFRGY4 TOBI. this is such a treat to find after finally drinking water after an hour of procrastinating on it!!!! life really said 'diedrate or hydrate and get the biggest sokeefitz ramble you've seen in an ask so far :)' and wow am i glad that i hydrated!! 

there is. so much. fic potential here. there are so many ways this could go!! so many questions!!

does anyone else around them know about their predicament? are there any small appearance changes to their respective bodies (that sounds weird lol) that indicate who is who? or does one have to rely solely on their words and body language to figure it out? what character/relationship arcs (platonic and romantic) would we have?? do we get to see them all regularly check in with each other on issues that they don't share with others (like sophie hailing keefe in the mornings to ask how things are going and him giving actually honest answers, etc.) and grow closer through it? also this is probably a question people ignore and say 'just go w/ it ok??' but like. how? did they end up in a body swap? in the first place? are there rules they know about, or are they just thrown into it and told 'good luck bro' by the universe? etc.

#danu i am going to get brainworms over this ask #so many...ideas... hnnnnng #this is probably something that anyone who's read a body swap au knows but #how does falling in love w/ someone who's either in your body or someone else's work?? #/gen #sophie foster #fitz vacker #keefe sencen #sokeefitz #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fic idea #ask #tw child abuse #tw child neglect #long post #long ask #if there's a tw i need to tag lmk #xanadaus

[grismavessel]

Question timeeee

How did Gris get his first Rowlet?

(assuming Alola is a Decidueye by the time you get to Hisui) Alola’s reactions of Dartrix evolving to a regional variant Decidueye

What happened to Grimhilda’s Pokemon after she passed?

What are Ingo & Emmet parents like? (and if they are alive) what are their reactions to Ingo’s boyfriend Gris and his dad Guzma?

Anywhere Gris or Ingo want to go to specifically? Maybe couples trip?

Anyone else notable that Gris has a friendship with? (gym leaders, team members, whatever other ppl there are I'm blanking atm. this can go for really any of ur different AUs)

(yoooo let’s go! Lightning round!) (also I’m writing these at like 1 am, no sleep gang strikes again)

Guzma pulled some strings with his old pal Kukui and actually got a rowlet egg just for Gris. Even as a kid the old stigma of team skull still kind of lingered so Gris didn’t have friends really, so Guzma surprised them with their first Pokémon to raise and bond with to fill in the gap! It was when Gris was around 8-10, before their Pokémon journey started. They’ve been ride or die every since rowlet hatched.

In Hisui, Gris was fully prepared to have twin Decidueyes on their team. Two matching hooded archer birds 💳💥 but as the two watched the Dartricx evolved Gris noticed right away that something was different. When the variant appeared Gris was so excited and happy and surprised. Words could not express their joy to discover a regional variant of their favorite Pokémon. Alola though, was shocked. Little timid natured Hisui was in tears. It wanted to look just like Alola and it got very upset. The two birds made up in the end. Now when Gris goes back to the present they have something amazing to show Kukui.

When she passed, everyone took a big hit. It was unexpected and even the Pokémon went into a mourning period. (I haven’t decided her team yet oops) Guzma kept most of them, taking care of them and they’re basically family. I think I want one to become apart of Gris’s Alola team but I’m not quite sure, and I also wanted one to move on like how in the anime sometimes Ash would let his Pokémon off on their own to go do their own thing like Greninja. Still in the works, but they all find a home either with Guzma and Gris or somewhere else.

The submas twins’s parents. I’d like to think their mom would be very upbeat, pep in her step, nose to the grind stone type of gal, while their dad is very laid back and chill, a very passive but charming man. They are alive I just haven’t gotten around to thinking about any designs/story that involve them much. Lets say that with everyone else around Ingo, they’d be floored. Mom, fainted, Dad, hanging on by 1 hp when they hear that one of their sons is dating the son of infamous former leader of a criminal organization. Family dinners are awkward, but they try to be supportive. They’re just very scared of Guzma. They love Gris though.

Trips! I’ve said somewhere they make trips to Galar and Alola, but I think the two of them would love to visit Kalos. One for the cuisine, two Gris won’t freeze the minute they step outside, three Ingo won’t melt on the spot from the sun, and four, they both want to go see the Sundial in Anistar City. Seeing it glisten in the setting sun would be magical (Ingo looks to the sundial but can’t help but look to Gris and watch the pretty light dance around them), and five, mega stone hunting because why not have a chance to mega evolve one of their Pokémon?

Gris knows Gladion and Lillie. They’re older and kind of treat Gris like a younger brother. The siblings come by and chat with Guzma, the three bonded over Lusamine being crazy. Gris feels like the cousin kept out of the loop. There’s Nanu because Guzma plays cards with him on the weekends. They knew Hau before they tried to beat the elite 4, Hau visits Guzma to check up on him every now and then since he is the champion and the other’s a kahuna. There’s Elesa and Skyla, Draydon since he’s the twins uncle. They also know the other island kahunas too since Guzma dragged Gris to their meetings. Gris is only really good friends with the twins, Elesa and Skyla though.

In the howl’s moving castle au, they knew N since he curses Gris. They form a brotherly type relationship after his magic is taken away.

#text #rambles #pokemon #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon fanart #submas #ingo #pokemon oc #pla #pokemon legends ingo #pokémon legends #warden ingo #gris #grisingo #asks #answering asks #ask me stuff

[aro-aizawa]

i really hate shitting on things that people really passionately love but GOD. i hate star wars.

#shut up danni #look there’s nothing inherently wrong as far as i can tell #it’s popular for a reason i assume #i just #i have this thing where if something is pushed on me enough i just start to hate it #even more bonus points if i tried it but still couldn’t get into it #and it’s STILL pushed on me to a point where my indifference turns to active hatred #star wars has been a pop culture staple for decades and yet i can’t escape it and i hate it #if it weren’t in my face or everywhere i looked i genuinely feel like i’d just be indifferent #i’d shrug and just say ‘eh it’s not for me’ #but it’s not and if i express this anywhere i’m treated with shock and yet another rec to try it out #no. i’m not interested. fuck off #recently the thing that’s been tipping me over the edge from frustration to anger is when i boot up the sims 4 #i own every single pack except the star wars one and that little icon infuriates me to astronomical levels #and not to mention the free star wars stuff in the base game i #urgh #i’m sorry if you love it i really am #but god i just #i want it nowhere near me and i have to input like a million variations of tags just to block it here #there’s other things like this that are on a lesser frequency of occurances but infuriating all the same #lord of the rings is one of them. i’m sorry. it helped shaped fantasy #i know that but GOD it’s just so long and complicated and my attention span does not do well for films #and books only hold my interest as long as the plot and characters intrigue me #a cursed ring does not interest me i’m sorry

[mavrintarou]

[2:02 P M] Rintarou's story

Anonymous asked:

I feel like Suna would get jealous and protective over y/n and hate the way the twins treat her and would be like “yea you’re coming with me and we’re living happily ever after” and y/n would be like “cool im down because I loved you in high school too and that dick waaaay too bomb”

You asked and I tried to deliver. I left the rest to your imagination... now I'm dying to know the twins individual story!

Warning: S M U T; (my brain is fried to go into too much details and I apologize); 18+Note: nothing edited, I just needed to get this out.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 (read it after all the side character story)- Atsumu's story - Osamu's story

.

“Just lay there,” he coos, “I’ll take care of you.”

You exhale softly, slowly dropping yourself back on his bed. Your legs are spread wide with him kneeling in between.

He teases the tip of his cock at your folds, pressing just enough before letting go, and his cock bounces back against his abdomen.

“Rin,” you hear yourself whine.

“Okay, okay…” he smirked before pushing the tip of his cock inside you.

Before Rintarou became your third sex partner, you spent most Mondays and Tuesdays with Osamu and then most Thursdays to Fridays with Atsumu.

That was the routine; you always had to keep it fair.

Until they invited Rintarou.

It had been a few weeks since that night, and now, you weren’t sure if the twins knew you were seeing Rintarou on Wednesdays and some weekends.

It all started when you had to go away to Tokyo for a work project for two weeks.

Two weeks without the twins, you looked forward to just having some time alone.

You had yet to learn that Rintarou would be in Tokyo as well. His volleyball training took place in Tokyo.

You were out celebrating when suddenly, a chair was pulled beside you. Startled, you turned to see who it was, and your eyes widened in surprise when you realized it was Rintarou. Your whole team shared the same shocked expression as you.

Rintarou greeted you with a friendly smile and a wink, sitting next to you. The introduction followed as he introduced himself in a charismatic manner that instantly captivated everyone present.

“Y/n! You never told us you knew professional volleyball players!”

Your smile doesn’t meet your eye… because Rintarou’s hand is inching up your skirt.

An hour later, as your team split off and you found yourself outside the restaurant, you glanced at Rintarou, still lingering nearby. Confusion filled your expression as you couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t left yet.

“What are you waiting for?” you asked, a slight frown forming. “Aren’t you going to go too?”

Rintarou turned towards you, a hint of a mischievous smile on his lips. “I’m waiting for you,” he replied, his voice carrying a teasing undertone.

Your frown deepened as you sought an explanation. “Why?” you inquired, genuinely puzzled by his persistence in staying behind.

Stepping closer, Rintarou’s hands gently reached out, his fingers carefully tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. A soft, nostalgic smile graced his lips as he spoke, “what are the odds,” he began, voice filled with wonder, “that we would cross paths here, miles away from our usual surroundings.”

Twenty minutes later, you were tugged into his hotel with his mouth hungrily over yours.

“You’re wearing too many clothes…” he mumbles. You stopped him before he could tear any piece of your work clothes. “I’ll buy you a new one, just get it off.” He growled, trying to help you remove your clothes faster.

You hurried, just as eager as he was to shred your clothes.

Before you can unclip your bra, you’re pushed on the couch with his mouth on yours again.

“Leave it,” he mumbles, fingers tracing from your chest to your hip. He then traces your lace garter belt, “I wanted to rip your fucken stockings off at the restaurant.”

You had only started to wear stockings after Atsumu would leave marks on your thighs and sometimes anywhere lower than your knee. He was a notorious bitter.

Rintarou settles between your legs, and your heart races when he touches a very new mark Atsumu left a few days ago that still looked fresh and vibrant.

It’s his silence that makes you nervous.

“How long have you been sleeping with them?”

You learned to embrace the truth that you enjoy sex and having multiple partners.

But his question made you feel shameful.

“A few months now… since their birthday.”

He hummed and stood up to yank off his shirt. He unbuckles his trousers enough to pull his hard long cock out. He gives it a few strokes, breath shaky as he gazes down at you. He grabs one of your legs, hooks it over his shoulder, and presses the other outward. He hooks your panties aside with a finger, and you gasp, feeling his entire length impale you hastily.

He rocks his hips effortlessly, creating a rhythm.

Like the first time, his cock presses against your cervix with each thrust.

“Should we…” he reaches for something, his phone. “Send a goodnight video to the brothers?”

You shake your head, unable to find your voice.

“Why? They send me videos of them fucking you all the time?”

At this point, you aren’t even shocked. Osamu and Atsumu enjoy poking each other when they have you all to themselves. Now, they have Rintarou to include.

His phone hovers over you, precisely where his cock is drilling into you. “Look whom I ran into today?” he speaks, recording his voice.

You always turn your face away and avoid looking into the camera.

“She feels pretty tight tonight….” He chuckles, “cutting it short, boys, she’s mine tonight.”

His phone is tossed on the coffee table, and his hand grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “You’re mine.”

You grab the back of his head, pulling him down to kiss you.

His mouth gently moves against yours, tongue dancing with yours.

Your eyes shoot open, nearly biting his lips as he lifts you quickly.

“Rin!” Your arms lock around his neck as he walks with you, bouncing on his cock with each step.

He carries you to the bed but doesn’t put you down.

It was your turn to gaze down at him.

And he looks at you with an expression you haven’t seen before.

His arms are hooked under your knees, keeping you open at his mercy.

You slowly rock your hips, and his hands support your weight as you bounce on his cock.

Rin buries his face against your neck, nipping and sucking.

“Don’t mark me…” you utter.

“Why not?” When you don’t reply fast enough, he nips your shoulder blade. “You let them mark you, but not me?”

You pull back to look at him, “they know they can’t mark me where I can’t hide it easily.”

His face scrunches in annoyance, and you kiss it away.

Your hips rock harder and deeper, craving to be filled.

“Rin…”

“I know… me too.” He chokes, breath rugged from supporting your weight.

His nails dig into your flesh and pound into your pussy fast and deep.

Your arms tighten around his shoulder and neck, your pussy bruised and battered.

“Rin!”

Your pussy flutters around his cock, and you feel the spurts filling your womb.

You had no strength left, barely holding on to him.

He shifts his grip, slowly still lifting you easily and rocking into your sensitive pussy.

At last, he lays you down on the bed, still inside you. You stared silently at one another, trying to catch your breath and calm your heart.

Rintarou gently rocks his hips and pleads, “you should stay the night…”

. .

He never sent a video that night. You had anticipated your phone blowing up from the brothers.

“I just want you all to myself; they don’t need to know.” Was his response.

For the fifth day in a row, you stayed with him, laying lazily in bed, tangled together while cuddling or sleeping. You two would meet after work and his training, get dinner, and return to his hotel since it was closer.

You were engrossed in the movie that you didn’t hear him call your name.

A hand gently grips your jaw, forcing you to turn your head to lock your eyes with his. “Did you hear me?”

Your gaze shifted and remained fixed on the screen, barely acknowledging his words. “Rin, this is the part – “

“I asked,” he interrupted, his tone cutting through your thoughts. “What if you stopped seeing the twins?”

You blinked, caught off guard by his question. “What?”

“I’m asking if you would stop seeing the twins.” He repeated, his voice filled with earnestness, “for me.”

. . .

>>>@callmeraider @amarinthe @chaotic-fangirl-blog

E/n: Oh Lord Mary and Joseph, what would you do?

#haikyuu smut #suna smut #suna scenarios #haikyuu suna #suna rintarou #suna x you #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro scenarios #haikyuu miya twins #miya atsumu smut #miya osamu smut #miya atsumu x y/n #miya osamu x y/n #suna rintarou x you

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

A new servant desperately struggles to understand what exactly Merlin is:

A cryptid? Arthur's boyfriend? Simply a dude? The court jester? Something else entirely? Who knows, certainly not the new guy.

The first time the new kitchen-hand, Tristan, saw The King’s dark-haired servant sprinting down the corridor, he couldn’t tell if the man was laughing or crying.

He was fast, faster than Tristan thought possible for someone whose arms were so full of laundry, but he politely steps out of the way, coming to the conclusion that he must’ve been late for something. At least... he did think that, until he turns the next corner to see three of The king’s most trusted knights peering out of windows and into random doors. Tristan freezes in the corridor, he’d heard that servants were treated extremely well here, but he’d only been employed for a few days and he didn’t want to risk anything by pushing past or addressing his betters.

One of the knights, Sir Leon, his brain helpfully supplies, spots him stood there, and his annoyed frown quickly morphs into a friendly smile:

“Pardon me, sorry, I don’t suppose you’ve seen Merlin around anywhere, have you?”

Tristan’s eyes go wide and the grip he has on his tray tightens, but he forces himself to take a breath and answer, trying his best to keep his voice even:

“Merlin is... The King’s manservant? Tall, with dark hair?”

Another knight pushes forward, he looks to be the oldest, with dark hair falling in an almost deliberately tousled way around his bearded jawline. His charming grin seems just a little too wide to be genuine, but Tristan isn’t quite sure if that’s because he’s about to take pleasure in punishing someone, or if he’s just being polite to a stranger:

“Yeah, yeah that’s him, seen him? Arsehole turned our shirts pink in the wash, and something tells me it was deliberate.”

Tristan gulps at the accusation and he takes a shaky step back, but before he can even think of defending the stranger that he now thinks must’ve been crying, the last of the three knights, a giant, if Tristan believed in such things, steps forward:

“Don’t worry, we won’t beat him too much.” 

He says it with a grin and a quirk of his eyebrows, but once again the kitchen-hand can’t tell if it was cruel or genuine, if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Uh... yeah, he turned left at the end of this corridor, but I didn’t see where he went after that, I apologise.”

Sir Leon waves away his apology with a smile, looking to the long-haired knight with a raised eyebrow:

“The stables?”

The man grins widely, nodding his agreement as he turns his grin to the giant. Sir Leon offers Tristan another soft smile, murmuring his thanks before moving past him, elbowing the other two to prompt them in to thanking him as well. The three of them march down the corridor with almost vindictive smiles on their faces, and Tristan prepares himself to see a vacancy note, or possibly a funeral invite, posted on the notice board by the next morning.

When he passes a window that evening to see the King’s manservant being carried on the giant’s shoulders as five other knights pelt them with gloves, a grin on every face, he decides that... well... it’s probably best to just not to ask.

~

The next time he sees Merlin, a few days later, The King is also there.

This is the first time Tristan has been in Arthur Pendragon’s presence, and though the other servant’s all rave on about how awkwardly kind he is, he’s a bundle of nerves. Not even Cook’s stories about how often she whacks The King’s knuckles with a wooden spoon when she catches him about to pilfer something stops Tristan’s heart from racing. 

The King was overseeing a few of the servants decorate the main hall for a feast, and whilst Tristan is certain that that’s not something The King normally does, he doesn’t question it, just thinks that maybe the other servants had been telling the truth, and he was a genuinely nice, but normal man. 

Merlin stands at his side, and though Tristan can’t hear their conversation, the two of them are clearly bickering over something. The servant can’t help his curiosity, wanting desperately to move closer to find out what sort of things The King allows his servant to bicker with him about; luckily, the table right next to them has yet to be laid, so he moves towards it quickly. He doesn’t even glance at them, terrified of being caught out, but perhaps Merlin surviving the knights non-wrath the other day is encouraging him, and his steps don’t falter. Their words come in to focus, and he has to stop the confused, and slightly horrified, frown from spreading across his face:

“Arthur, I swear to the Gods, if you make me wear that hat again, I’ll piss in your wine and serve it to you in front of a crowd.”

The King scoffs just as Tristan shakily begins laying down the cutlery:

“That’s treason, Merlin.”

“Do I look like I care? Not only will I piss in your wine, I will not hesitate to push you over a balcony at the first opportunity. This hall is high up and it’s a long way down to the gardens. He drank toxic wine and turned loopy and tipped himself off a balcony and went splat! That’s what people will say. I’m not wearing the Godamn hat.”

Tristan has to focus extra carefully to stop himself from gasping; Merlin just threatened to kill The King... that’s got to be a death sentence. Pissing off some knights that he’s obviously friendly with is one thing, but threatening to kill The-

“Ha ha. Very funny. If you can’t tell, Merlin, I’m being sarcastic, I know you struggle with complex concepts like that.”

Merlin just rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he says with no hesitation:

“My mind is more than capable of coping, My Lord, it’s your belt I worry about being able to cope nowadays.”

Tristan bites his tongue to stop himself from yelping and turns away so neither of them can see his horrified face. The King just makes an outraged noise in the back of his throat, and Tristan can hear Merlin snort in laughter at whatever expression Arthur was wearing to match such a noise:

“Go to the stocks. I want you there for three hours.”

Tristan lets out a confused breath; Merlin threatens to kill The King, and gets playful sarcasm, but he implies The King might be a tad overweight, and gets sent to the stocks for three hours? How is that-

“Yeah... no. Not happening. The feast starts in less than two hours and I still have to help Guinevere organise some stuff in the courtyard, do Gaius’ rounds for him, then put an extra hole in your belt and help you get dressed because, despite being a grown man, you’re still an idiot who’s incapable of putting clothes on in any sort of decent manner.”

Tristan finds himself relaxing a little. This seems to be the norm for them, but surely... surely The King had a line somewhere, and a servant just flat out refusing to be disciplined must be where it lies?

Arthur just scoffs, and Tristan angles his head in such a way that he can see him roll his eyes:

“Fuck off.”

Merlin grins, seeming to cast a suspicious gaze over the room to make sure no one was watching and somehow completely missing Tristan stood just there, before saying quietly:

“You love me really, you prat.”

With that, Merlin reaches up to yank at a lock of The King’s hair before hurrying off in the direction of the courtyard before Arthur can react. The King jumps slightly, clearly caught by surprise as an annoyed flush rises on his face, but Tristan just frowns in confusion when his shock gives way to a softly amused smile.

Huh.

~

The next few times Tristan saw Merlin made him fear for the servant’s safety. He was being taken on hunts by The King and his knights, that’s meant to be for squires, to learn the ropes and gain experience in tracking and riding. 

He supposes it isn’t entirely unheard of for a servant to follow their master on a hunt, but with the way Merlin complains without pause, and The King in turn complains about his complaining, he thinks it would better for everyone if Merlin just... didn’t go. When he brings it up to another servant, a lovely woman named Guinevere who had helped him get unlost at least three times in his first week, she just laughs and smiles at him pityingly:

“I wouldn’t worry, those two have been like that forever, they’re practically inseparable.”

Tristan responds with a rather intelligent sounding:

“...What?”

Gwen laughs softly again, shaking her head and patting his shoulder consolingly:

“You’ll get used to it, they’re just... like that.”

She gives him one more smile before turning to wave the boys out of the gates and walking back to the castle as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Tristan supposes that it probably is.

The next time Tristan sees Merlin leave the city gates with the knights, Sir Elyan, Sir Mordred, and Sir Lancelot this time, it’s distinctly worse. Because he’d caught sight of the patrol rota last time he ran food down to the training ground, and he was certain that those three had a city patrol right about now.

Before he even has time to gape in shock, he hears Merlin’s pleading voice as he trails Sir Elyan like a lost puppy:

“Please, El, I promise to stay out of the way, I will do anything, but I swear to the Gods if I have to spend one more minute around that prat, I’ll hurl myself from the battlements.”

Swearing to the Gods and threating to hurl various people, including himself, from significant heights seems to be some sort of theme for The King’s manservant. Before Tristan can consider the implications of that, Sir Elyan turns to Merlin with a wide, teasing grin on his face:

“You know, I would’ve let you tag along for free, Merlin, but now that you’ve promised me something I feel the need to take advantage.”

Tristan tenses at that, a shot of ice spiking down his spine. He has keen eyes and sharp ears, he knows that Sir Elyan is the lovely Gwen’s brother, Sir Mordred seems to have an... odd worship for the servant, and he’s definitely picked up on the close bond between Merlin and Sir Lancelot, but is this where Camelot’s image comes crashing down in Tristan’s head? He knew that it was better here for servant’s than other Kingdoms, but there are always people who’ll take advantage of their position, no matter where you are. Merlin’s shoulders just drop and he asks in a sulking voice:

“What do you want?”

Tristan grits his teeth, moving his gaze so no one would catch him glaring at the knight as he tries to figure out a way to help, a way to get this virtual stranger out of being... abused, in such a manner. If he’d carried on glaring, he would’ve noticed Elyan’s soft smile and amused raised eyebrow:

“Next time you gather herbs for Gaius, bring back some more of those flowers that you got for Gwen. She said they added vibrancy to the house, whatever that means, but they make her happy, so...-”

Merlin just giggles and nods and Tristan relaxes, looking back to them with a confused smile on his face. That was... actually kind of sweet, he can definitely see the resemblance between the knight and his sister:

“-AND I want whatever Arthur’s having for dinner tonight, his food always looks way nicer than ours.”

Merlin lets out a faux annoyed groan, but then rolls his eyes and grins, nodding:

“Consider it done. Can we go now? I really don’t want to risk him seeing me and giving me some stupid chore to do.”

Elyan laughs and nods, and the four of them begin making their way out of the courtyard and into the city. Sir Lancelot finally joins the conversation, clearly amused as he says:

“You know it’s literally your job to do chores, right?”

Merlin turns to glare at him as Sir Mordred and Sir Elyan laugh, and Tristan only just hears his reply as the castle gates shut behind them:

“Fuck off.”

Tristan decides it would be pointless to bring this up to anyone again, he figures he’ll probably just get the same answer as last time.

~

The next confusing incident happens only a few days later. But Tristan supposes that at this point... it really shouldn’t be confusing. Gwen was right, he did just... get used to it.

He heard the steps pounding down the corridor before he saw him, but they were coming fast and hard, so he presses himself against the wall, holding the tray to his side to protect it as best he could as Merlin comes skidding round the corner. 

He stops just long enough for Tristan to calm himself by spying the wide grin on his face, but he’s quickly sprinting down the hall again, laughing as he waves whatever it is he’s got clutched in his hands. The second set of loud, rapid footsteps stops Tristan from stepping away from the wall quite yet. Just a moment later, Sir Gwaine follows Merlin’s skidded path around the corner, though the heavier man overshoots slightly and he runs into the wall opposite Tristan with a crash and a deep groan.

The rebellious knight gives a wide-eyed Tristan an awkward nod before pushing himself off the wall and following Merlin’s blazing trail, screaming down the corridor:

“I warned you Merlin!! Don’t come between a man and his ale, now give that back you bastard!”

Tristan hears Merlin’s laughter grow louder, even from the two corridors away that the other servant had managed to race to.

He shrugs to himself, waiting for a moment to see if anyone else was going to come barrelling around the corner before sighing, and continuing his journey up to the visiting Lord’s chambers.

It was unusual, he thought, how quickly he’d come to terms with the fact that a servant was sassing The King and pranking the knights and inviting himself on various hunts and patrols that he really had no business on. Unusual indeed.

~

He’d learnt to ignore it. Or at least brush it off.

In the two weeks since Merlin had (presumably) stolen Sir Gwaine’s skin of ale, he’d seen the servant call The King a long list of imaginative insults (what the hell is a dollop head?), walk around with Sir Leon’s cloak on because he was a little chilly, accuse someone of treason (and somehow been right about it), and threaten to kill at least seven people; including, but not limited to: The King himself, The King’s already dead father, some stuck up Noble (though that was under his breath, Tristan just happened to be stood next to him), and Sir Percival.

And Gwen was... absolutely right. He's just... like that. He's Merlin, and that’s what Merlin does.

So when he turns a corner in a rarely used to corridor to see him pressing The King against a wall, snogging the life out of him, Tristan simply turns around and walks back the other way. Both of them look fairly happy with the arrangement, and they’d probably chosen this corridor for the exact same reason Tristan had: it was out of everyone’s way, and was unlikely to be inhabited.

He thinks it’s odd, how... un-odd he finds it. He absent-mindedly thinks that, with the way they acted around each other, he really should’ve seen this coming. A sudden thought occurs to him, and he ducks into a storage cupboard, laying his tray down carefully as he rummages through the boxes. He lets out a quiet “Yay” when he finds what he’s looking for, carefully picking up his tray with only one hand and nudging the door open again with his hip. 

He walks back towards the corner he had just turned (and turned again) making a conscious effort to keep his steps quiet; he places the danger sign, usually used where walls had collapsed or windows had been smashed, in the middle of the corridor, a clear indication of “Do Not Enter”.

He nods smugly at his quick thinking and easy handy work before mentally planning the quickest route to the kitchens and following it hurriedly.

He casually wonders if he has time to circle around to the other end of the corridor so he could put another sign down before Cook gets angry at him for being late. Probably not. At least, not before they... finish up and move on. Hmm. He suddenly panics about the thought of them seeing the sign and knowing that someone had spotted them but... well. Hopefully they would just appreciate it and move on.

Yet again, he decides not to bring this up to anyone. He may or may not have overheard a few of the knights making some sort of bet, and he may or may not want to watch on with amusement as they fail to realise that all of them have already lost.

Tristan smiles to himself; working here had turned out to be rather entertaining, in the end.

~

THE END

I know it’s short, but I really didn’t know what else to add without it sounding like I was just repeating myself over and over😅

I hope y’all enjoyed it!!

#merthur #merthur crack #bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #emrys #merlin/arthur #knights #the knights of camelot #knights of the round table #sir leon #leon #sir percival #percival #sir lancelot #lancelot #sir elyan #elyan #sir gwaine #gwaine #mordred #good mordred #sir mordred #gaius #gwen #guinevere #merlins just like that #merlin is a top #no matter how much arthur denies it #crack

[jingyismom]

Thanks everyone for the prompts! I decided to try and knock these all out in one go:

@thegirlwhotrashcans: remember, you asked for it. au, nobody dies, wwx and yanli bodyswap. they're married to lwj and jzx. 100% crack. bonus points if jin zixuan completely loses his shit and lwj looks very calm but loses his sh*t after everything is back to normal

@alightbuthappypen: Competency kink! One or both of them (when I say 'them' I mean wangxian obvs, I know what I'm about) getting hot and bothered about the other being amazing. On a nighthunt maybe? Or anywhere else that strikes your fancy!

@hearteyeswangji: WRITE MORE P*RN

I think I can manage that. With a few tweaks, accidental seriousness, and broad, ridiculous fix-its tacked on. I have no idea how long this might be. Let’s try it in installments? I’ll reblog and add on as I go. Maybe it’ll be fun. We’ll find out.

Disclaimer that this is just gonna go for it with no revising and no beta readers, so pls do not hold me to any conceivable standard of coherency thx

--

WILL INCLUDE: wangxian, xuanli, let jyl and lwj be friends agenda, canon divergence, fix-it, everybody lives, arranged marriage, bodyswap, light angst, getting together, Attempts at Comedy, eventual (light?) wangxian smut

The Sunshot Campaign has just been won. Everyone goes over to Jin Guangshan’s house after the Nightless City banquet, to Negotiate Stuff, and some hasty political marriages happen resulting in Xuanli Wedded Bliss and Wangxian Un-confessed Wedded Tension. Then, suddenly...a curse befalls our brave heroes.

--

Wei Wuxian wakes suddenly, feeling odd. He’s sleeping on his stomach for one thing, which is not his usual, but he feels warm and comfortable enough that he doesn’t think it strange. But then there is the scent of peonies and gardenias, which is both familiar and alien, somehow. It makes him open his eyes. 

Which is when he sees the hand before him on the bolster. It is slender and elegant. Small. Pale. Familiar? Wearing a jade bangle. He pushes himself up a bit, startled, only to see the hand move when he does. 

The hand. Is his hand. He stares at it. The shock of it, coupled with the early hour, leave his mind working very slowly.

At length, he becomes aware of an odd weight across his back, which then shifts. Wei Wuxian turns.

He is met with the sleepy, moon-eyed stare of one Jin Zixuan, still cradling him in his arms.

“What the fuck,” says Wei Wuxian. His voice is. Soft. And high.

He would think this was all some messed-up dream if not for the fact that his dreams of late have all been messed up in an entirely different way. He’s also certain, in an odd, detached way, that he never would have imagined the battle scars that mar Jin Zixuan’s distressingly visible skin.

Jin Zixuan’s brow furrows, and he blinks. “A-Li?”

“...What the fuck.”

~~~

When Lan Wangji wakes at his customary hour, he is just slightly more tired than usual. The coverlet over him is oddly heavy, but he does not give it any thought until light from the rising sun slips over an unfamiliar sill and into his eyes. His entire body goes tense as he remembers. 

Jinlintai. The long hours of debate, of negotiation. The hasty marriages. 

He sits up in his strange bed and turns. There, in the bed opposite, is Wei Ying’s sleeping form. Close, yet still distant. Safe, at least.

Lan Wangji relaxes, and takes a breath. It was a near thing, keeping the sects from demanding more and more from Wei Ying, from treating him like a criminal instead of the hero he is. But somehow, Jiang Wanyin and Xiongzhang ended up on the same page, defending him, working tirelessly toward a compromise with the more critical parties. And now Lan Wangji has the dubious honor of ‘keeping Wei Ying in check,’ as Yao-zongzhu so inelegantly put it, through marriage. 

A strictly political marriage. A convenient solution. To bind them together, to keep Wei Ying tied under the umbrella of Lan Wangji’s rigid honor. 

It is unclear, as of yet, if Wei Ying resents this arrangement. He has not been himself since Nightless City, and the destruction of Wen Ruohan’s forces. First his long coma, then a lingering tiredness that he has not seemed able to shake, which dampens his normally-vivid expressions of feeling.

Lan Wangji is worried. But this, at least, Wei Ying has made clear is unwelcome. He seems to want to pretend that nothing has changed. Not about himself, and not between the two of them. Lan Wangji has done his best to honor his wishes, despite everything.

Now, he rises and dresses before sinking into his morning meditation. It is still strange to do so fully dressed, weighed down by the propriety required for the public, but it has felt necessary, now that Wei Ying shares chambers with him. A physical manifestation of the barrier between them, more important than ever now that they are, bizarrely, married. 

Before his meditation is finished, he hears Wei Ying stir. It is unusual for him to wake so early. Lan Wangji’s eyes snap open, immediately searching him for signs of pain.

Wei Wuxian turns over, then goes very still. He sits bolt upright, searching the bed with wild eyes, then turns them on the room at large. When they land on Lan Wangji, he curls in on himself, the fingers of one hand tightening at the collars of his sleeping robe, clutching it closed.

“La—Lan-er-gongzi?” 

His voice is oddly breathy, and his eyes...they are wide with confusion, with just the slightest tinge of fear. Lan Wangji is struck nearly senseless by the term of address, aberrant in Wei Ying’s mouth.

“What is wrong?”

Searching the room again, Wei Wuxian moves toward the edge of the bed with a strangely graceful modesty. It looks alien on his long limbs. “My...my husband. Where…?”

The word jolts through Lan Wangji’s entire body. He has never heard Wei Ying say it before. He has...wanted to hear it. Dearly, he realizes suddenly. But it sounds wrong. Distressed. Everything Wei Ying says sounds wrong.

“Wei Ying,” he says. 

Wei Ying’s eyes snap to his. “A-Xian? Where is he? Is he with A-Xuan? Are they alright?”

Lan Wangji blinks at him, uncomprehending, for several seconds. Then he begins to understand.

“You are not—”

The doors to their chambers burst open, and Jiang Yanli rushes in. The tasteful purple and gold robes she has adopted in the few days since the weddings are loose, uncharacteristically askew—not impreprietous, but verging on it. She spots Lan Wangji and her stormy expression clears.

“Lan Zhan,” she says, and her shoulders droop. 

Lan Wangji blinks at her, thrown by her use of this name, then glances at Wei Ying, who has gone completely still, his mouth open in a small, shocked ‘o.’ Jiang Yanli follows his gaze and freezes.

Just then, Jin Zixuan comes barreling into the room, significantly more unkempt than his wife. He has not even tied back his hair. 

“A-Li,” he implores, “what’s happened? We can’t just go barging into our guests’,” he pauses, and bows awkwardly, hastily, to Lan Wangji and Wei Ying in turn, “rooms like this. Please,” he takes her arm, but she shakes him off. 

She’s still staring at Wei Ying. “Sh...Shijie?”

Wei Ying startles, and looks down at himself. He holds out his arms, his hands, and looks at those too. Then he looks up at Jiang Yanli. “A-Xian?”

“Shijie,” Jiang Yanli says, and slumps over to the bed, embracing Wei Ying.

“A-Li,” hisses Jin Zixuan, scandalized. 

Lan Wangji glances at Jin Zixuan’s wife embracing his own husband on the bed, and rises. He walks briskly past them all to shut the door. Then he returns. 

“Wei Ying,” he says again. Jiang Yanli looks up at him.

It is obvious, now that he has realized it. Her face, animated by his personality. The soft warmth of her eyes sharpened just so. The deliberately graceless way she threw herself—himself—into Wei Ying’s—no, Jiang Yanli’s—arms.

Lan Wangji takes a deep breath. “Is this a curse?”

“Yes,” Wei Ying says with Jiang Yanli’s face, but his own certainty.

“How can we break it?” Lan Wangji asks.

“I”m not sure, not yet. I need to try a few things—or—having the original curse would be safer.” He looks at his sister in his own body. “I...don’t really want to experiment with this.”

Jiang Yanli tsks and bumps his shoulder a little too forcefully, jostling Wei Ying in her currently slight form. “Vain,” she says, teasing.

“Shijieee,” he whines. It sounds bizarre in Jiang Yanli’s voice. “I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.”

“I know,” Jiang Yanli says, soothing. 

“Do you feel alright?” Wei Ying goes on, urgent.

“Perfectly alright, now that you’re both here,” she says, smiling at the newcomers in turn.

Something sharply acidic surges in Lan Wangji’s stomach at such a look on Wei Ying’s face, directed at...Jin Zixuan.

“Really, though,” Wei Ying presses, “any nausea? Dizziness? Pain? You’re not worried?”

“Not at all. Our A-Xian will figure it out.”

Lan Wangji watches as the appearance of Wei Ying’s knuckle affectionately brushes Jiang Yanli’s nose. 

Strange. It is all...so strange.

“If—”

“What is happening?” Jin Zixuan interrupts.

All three of them look at him. He stares between them, wild-eyed and desperately askew. Lan Wangji has never considered him to be particularly slow on the uptake, but he supposes allowances must be made for the stress of waking up with a stranger in one’s bed.

He does not care to investigate the perverse pang of jealousy he feels at the thought.

“A-Xuan, it’s me,” Jiang Yanli says. Jin Zixuan stares at her in Wei Ying’s body, uncomprehending. She goes on slowly, but not unkindly. “A-Xian and I have been cursed into each other’s bodies. He’s in there, and I’m in here.”

Her husband blinks several times, very quickly. Lan Wangji recognizes the moment it sinks in by the deep flush that rises across his entire face, and is certain he does not wish to know what precisely inspired it. 

Jin Zixuan takes an involuntary half-step back, then forward again, as he speaks with renewed urgency. “Why has this happened? Can it be undone?”

“Great questions,” Wei Ying says, falsely encouraging. Lan Wangji exchanges a glance with him, and it almost feels natural, to share such a thing with either Wei Ying or Jiang Yanli. “Someone was clearly either targeting me—that’s Wei Wuxian, that’s me, in here—or you...whom you know to be Jin Zixuan. I hope.”

Jin Zixuan turns a deeper shade of red. “Obviously,” he bites out. “But why?”

Wei Ying rolls his eyes dramatically. It is not something Lan Wangji ever imagined Jiang Yanli doing.

“We don’t know yet, but we will once we find and question the person responsible,” Wei Ying says. Jiang Yanli grips his arm suddenly. Wei Ying looks at her. “And yes, it can be undone. Of course it can. I’ll figure it out.”

“Cast a rebound,” Lan Wangji says, brisk. The more quickly they are done with this, the better.

Wei Ying’s face falls. “Ah,” he says, “well, we…”

“My cultivation is too weak for him to reliably use,” Jiang Yanli says suddenly. “And I’m not very good at the method, I’m afraid.”

Lan Wangji nods. Steps forward. Then hesitates. “If the curse was cast in such a way, one of you may end up in the caster’s body. And they in yours.”

They all look at Jiang Yanli. Her expression grows grim. “Alright,” she says, then looks to Lan Wangji. There is something steely in her expression that is familiar on Wei Ying’s face. “Thank you for the warning. Go ahead.”

Lan Wangji hesitates only a moment longer, expecting protests from the other two. But Wei Ying is wearing a small, knowing smile, and Jin Zixuan merely nods at her, reassuring. Lan Wangji senses his esteem for the Jin heir rising at such solid trust in his wife. 

He steps forward and casts the rebound. They all hold their breath. 

Wei Ying glances around, his wry expression entirely foreign on Jiang Yanli’s face. “Anything?”

“No,” says Jiang Yanli.

Wei Ying sighs. “More work for us, then.”

“A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli says, taking gentle hold of his wrist. “You know what this means.”

“Ah?”

“You’ll have to be me.”

“Ah. No, I—”

“A-Xian.”

Wei Ying scratches his head, a not-at-all ladylike gesture. “Or we could just stay in here and let these two investigate?”

The smile Jiang Yanli turns on him is tender, and knowing, and indulgent. “I’d like to see you try to sit still when there’s a puzzle to solve.”

He sighs. “Alright. But you have to be me, too.”

She nods, and theatrically slouches into a sprawling, sloppy posture. Wei Ying laughs, his head thrown back, a hand on his stomach. Jin Zixuan turns around, looking almost ill. 

Lan Wangji understands, and he doesn’t. It is dizzying, and distinctly wrong-looking, to see both of them this way. Yet there is also something endearing about it. About the parts of them that do overlap, and fit into each other better than one would expect. 

“A-Xuan,” Jiang Yanli calls softly, noticing her husband’s distress.

Lan Wangji gets the distinct impression that that tone in Wei Ying’s voice is not helping the situation.

“Jin-gongzi,” he says. “It would be best for all of us to go about our days as normal, and not to arouse suspicion. Wei Ying sleeps late, and will not be missed for the morning. Jin-shao-furen may claim mild illness until the afternoon. But you and I must behave as normal. There are still the other sects to host.”

“Yes,” Jin Zixuan says absently. He runs a hand over his face. “Yes. You’re right. A-Li—” he turns and looks at the pair of them on the bed, and pauses. He shakes his head as if to clear it. “I’ll go back and dress. Join me when—or—Wei—” he stops. “I will be attending my duties. Please let me know what else I can do.”

“Remember to act natural,” Jiang Yanli says. “When A-Xian joins you later, try to look less like a roasted tomato, hmm?”

Jin Zixuan’s mouth twists into a wry smile, and he nods at the floor, then flees the room. Jiang Yanli and Wei Ying turn their eyes to Lan Wangji.

“I shall also depart,” he says. He circles his arms to bow to Jiang Yanli, but Wei Ying stands and pulls him over toward the door. Lan Wangji lets him, and tries not to pull away from the improprietous touch from a married lady. 

“Lan Zhan,” he says, hushed and urgent. “I’m not...you don’t think I’m hurting her, am I? Just by being in here? Can you sense any resentment?”

Lan Wangji feels something tighten in his chest. Wei Ying has not let Lan Wangji so much as examine his pulse since he roused from his coma, but the idea that he is so constantly steeped in resentment as to cause worry that his very soul may be harmful...is distressing. He takes hold of his slender wrist carefully. It is still Jiang Yanli’s body, and he will treat it with the respect it is owed. 

“I cannot,” he says. The only energy in Jiang Yanli’s body is generated by her own small but steady golden core. “I sense nothing that may be harmful.”

Wei Ying lets out a relieved breath. “Alright. But, um. What about the other way? Is her...is my body harming her?”

Lan Wangji turns to go back and perform the same examination, but Wei Ying stops him. “No, that’s alright. I’ll. We’ll just get this over with, and we can. Between the two of us, we can fix whatever...whatever damage I do.”

Lan Wangji stares at him, but Wei Ying refuses to meet his eyes. At length, he nods. “We can.”

“Alright. Ah, thanks. You should go.”

Lan Wangji goes.

#my fic #prompt fic #the untamed fanfic #lan wangji #wei wuxian #jiang yanli #jin zixuan #i don't know why i bother this is NOT gonna show up in tags #i'm not gonna go through and censor things. i'm just. not gonna #also this post is...so ugly #will anyone even read it??? who knows elksfdjns #let's have some fun

[notchesandbullets]

The Gentle Giant's Breaking Point (Shoji x Reader)

Art credit: @tonerukun​

Requested by: @/smol_angry_rabbit on wattpad

Aged-Up!AU

Warnings: explicit smut, size kink, dirty talk, hickeys, cursing, being overpowered and completely dominated, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, tender aftercare and soft confession

Words: 6.4k

In downtown Musutafu, Shoji, Tokoyami and Ojiro were wandering around the city packed with people on a bright, sunny day. A gentle breeze blew by, swirling around the hundreds of people who decided to get some fresh air for the first time in weeks.

The second the weather warmed up, food stalls and all sorts of vendors were back on the streets. Mouthwatering scents of sesame soba, senbei and taiyaki curled deliciously into the air and wafted over to everyone within the vicinity, enticing them over to buy the scrumptious street food.

At the first sight of spring, the students of UA scattered, all eager to spend their off day outside.

Kaminari, Bakugou, Kirishima and Ashido all went to the pool, the rest of Class 1-A following in a slow trickle.

It first was Hagakure who wanted to tag along, then Uraraka, then reluctantly Jirou followed by the rest of the girls.

Midoriya sheepishly asked if he could come along too, Todoroki following suit since he'd rather be anywhere than at an empty dorm and end up having to go home to his father.

Mineta was only allowed to come with Sero's tape restricting his hands and covering his eyes. He complained the whole way there that it was unfair but no one paid any attention to him.

Shoji let his arms fall to his sides as he strolled around downtown, following Tokoyami.

He hadn't particularly wanted to go anywhere, preferring to stay in the dorms. He didn't know when was the last time where it had actually been quiet. Not since before they moved in.

He didn't really have any complaints about his classmates. If anything, he was rather happy to live in a dormitory. It meant he got to see a lot more of you.

You were best friends with him, preferring to keep to yourself most of the time, just like him.

Maybe that's why you got along so well.

Shoji never tried to bother you but it was inevitable when the last class of the day would be dismissed and everyone paired off or huddled up in their groups to talk about anything and everything. He would just be at his desk, pulling out a book or getting started on his homework so he didn't have to worry about it later and you would come over, plop yourself down in the empty desk next to him and start reading a book without a word.

He didn't mind. He rather liked your company. It was quiet. It was nice.

He was going to ask you if you wanted to come with him, Tokoyami and Ojiro today but you were gone when he woke up. At least he had your number and he messaged you to make sure you were okay.

You responded back pretty quickly that everything was fine, you just had to take care of something first and then you'd meet them at the beach.

Shoji thought nothing of it. So when Ojiro asked if he wanted to come along with them downtown because Tokoyami needed to pick up more art supplies before their next class, he readily agreed.

He honestly didn't expect to see you there, let alone run into you. Literally.

You panted, rounding the corner, your eyes round with fear as adrenaline pumped through your veins. But you weren't watching where you were going.

Crashing into someone's very solid chest, your force knocked them over, sending the two of you toppling over instantly.

Springing up, you quickly apologized. "I'm so sorry!!"

All else blanked from your head as you saw who it was you exactly landed on and your jaw dropped open.

"Shoji?!"

Suppressing a groan, he sat up, encircling your waist carefully to ensure you wouldn't fall.

His brow furrowed in confusion as he helped the two of you up into a standing position, completely ignoring Ojiro and Tokoyami's questioning stares. "What are you doing?"

You opened your mouth to answer him when all of the sudden, you were hit by a blinding light.

Various enraged cries echoed from the alley you had just rushed out of.

"Get back here!!!"

"Shoot." You muttered under your breath. "My paralysis wore off."

"You're using your quirk?!" Ojiro exclaimed in shock. "You know that's against the rules!!!"

You ushered everybody into the nearest store hastily, hiding behind All Might merchandise to keep out of sight. "You want to lecture me now or after we call the police?"

While Tokoyami dialed for the local police, Shoji shifted closer to you, using his dupli-arms to hide you from view.

"Who are they?" He asked you.

He knew you weren't the type to go around causing trouble. If you had used your quirk, it had to be because you were cornered with no way out. He knew you.

And judging by that foreign, hesitant look in your eyes, you knew it, too.

"It's nothing, I'm fine." You mumbled under your breath, refusing to look at him.

Shoji didn't say anything else on the matter, dropping it entirely when a shadow passed over him.

You squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath as the men searched for you, your breath hitching when Shoji's grip around you tightened protectively. Too many times you had imagined his arms around you but this was a scenario you didn't exactly picture.

The sirens wailing outside had you relaxing the tiniest bit, the rest of the tension leaving your body as the police arrested the three men using their quirks to create destruction.

Shoji didn't let you go quite yet though. Not until he was sure every last one of them left.

Pulling back, he allowed you to slip out of his arms. And that's when he saw it.

The blood.

The cut on your cheek was smeared with crimson and he questioned how he didn't notice that sooner.

Cradling your cheek, he angled your face, his jaw ticking as he got a better look at your injury.

"Y/N."

You gulped as he used your first name without any honorific. You knew he meant business and your heart fluttered at how much he seemed to care for you in that moment.

You shoved down your feelings, forcing yourself to breathe normally, dreading that he would notice how nervous you were.

It wasn't that you really had anything to be anxious about, you knew Shoji would never judge you for any reason. Kind-hearted despite how often he had gotten teased when he was younger, he never let it affect him in any way other than pushing him towards his best self.

You always admired that about it.

Shoji was such a gentle giant and you were one of the few he told about his past and what ultimately led him to striving to become a hero.

Which is why you were so caught off guard by the anger simmering beneath the surface of his eyes as he tended to the abrasion on your cheek.

The officers contained the situation quickly, arresting those that were causing chaos. The same gang of boys who were responsible for your injuries. Tokoyami and Ojiro filed out of your makeshift hiding place first, reporting what you had seen before Shoji helped you up and they turned your attention to you.

All three of their expressions changed from quelled worry to disbelief as you denied all allegations they had clearly made against you.

Still, the police officers couldn't go against it if you didn't even admit to it but brought the boys down to the station for processing. They would be able to fit the pieces together later once the camera footage of the convenience store was recovered. Until then, they let you go.

After you refused medical treatment when the police arrived on the scene, absolutely hating hospitals, you trekked back to the dormitory to sort out your injuries.

They were rather mild and you weren't worried about it at all. The hero-in-training hovering over you though, said otherwise.

You sat on one of the many couches in the common area of Heights Alliance so that he could patch you up. It was a good thing that the dorms were empty since everyone was gone for the rare off day that they got.

Shoji had ushered Ojiro and Tokoyami to go on without him to meet up with the rest of their class at the beach, promising that he would look after you and make sure that you didn't actually need a hospital.

But you also thought it was to make sure you weren't going to do anything reckless again.

He had already scolded you for not taking your wounds seriously enough and insisted on treating them, which was a bit weird because he never was one for insisting on anything unless he felt strongly enough about it.

The atmosphere was tense as he put away the rest of the medical supplies, settling for a simple butterfly closure after he cleaned the area.

Now, he was staring at you as if he wanted to devour you. Heat flooded to your lower regions no matter how hard you tried to stop it. It was clear that he was frustrated, borderline angry and upset with you for reasons unclear to you but hope kindled in your heart.

There was no way he liked you like that. He never said anything about it before.

Regardless, no one should look that good while they were enraged. The silent fury simmering beneath the surface of his being was too good of a look on him.

"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?" Shoji questioned, peeling off his mask and revealed a deep-seated frown etched on his face.

Your breath caught in your throat. No matter how many times you saw his face, it never failed to take your breath away and stop time completely.

He was beautiful.

"I-I—" You stammered, at a loss for words due to his vulnerability in front of you. He clearly trusted you a great deal. You wanted to return the gesture.

Your heart rate spiked in nervousness and you swallowed hard.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, your voice got quieter and more solemn as you told him about these people who had been bullying your little brother. Your parents weren't in the picture, and since your aunt, who had taken the two of you in, didn't care much other than making sure you were fed and attending school, you knew you couldn't depend on her for help.

You had been bullied too, something you told your brother the second you walked in one weekend and he burst into tears. You felt horrible. At UA, you were too far away to protect him, but you promised you'd do something about it.

Logically, you knew you should've gone to the authorities. But you were just so blinded by rage and hell bent on revenge for these boys who had struck him across the face and punched him in the eye more than once that you weren't going to let it go on for a second longer.

Shoji was silent when you finished. You played with your fingers in your lap, unsure of what to do. Maybe you talked too much.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Your head snapped up and you gaped. You didn't have an answer for him.

Shoji sighed and his eyes saddened. "You can rely on me, on our friends. We would have helped you."

You looked back down, his gaze too intense for you to hold. He was staring at you too earnestly and you felt the hurt that resonated within him at the actions you didn't take to reach out towards him.

"I know." You whispered. "But I didn't want any of you to get involved."

A discontented noise emitted from the back of his throat and Shoji's mouth pressed in a hard line, clearly disagreeing with you but not voicing it.

The silence turned uncomfortable and you shifted in place, discreetly rubbing your thighs together as a shiver passed through your body.

Your eyes widened as he draped his shawl over you. You gulped as Shoji bulking form loomed over you, your heart now beating faster for another reason entirely.

"S-Shoji?!"

"Mezo..." He murmured. "We're alone. You can call me Mezo."

This wasn't anything new, you had already been comfortable enough to call him by his given name when the two of you were on your own but this was the first time he had requested you to say it before you got a chance to speak it.

He beat you to the punch. How unlike him.

You blushed, arching your back into his touch as he gripped your waist and drew you close to him to warm you up, heat flooding to your lower regions without permission at his low voice. "Mezo."

He groaned, his head falling into the crook of your neck at how intimate his name sounded when it fell from your lips. Physical affection wasn't rare between you two, but it largely remained platonic.

Until now. He couldn't suppress it any longer.

Capturing your lips in a heated kiss, he moved over you, unable to stop himself from pinning you to the couch.

"Ahh~" You moaned as he detached himself from your lips, keening as he continued down, pushing his jacket out of the way for better access to your neck. You weren't against this, but it was going too fast. You wanted him to slow down so that you could at least see him. "M-Mezo, w-wait..."

Stifling a groan, he reluctantly parted from your skin, catching your gaze.

Worried he had made you uncomfortable, he questioned, "Do you not want this?"

After you shook your head so violently that he was surprised you didn't knock into anything, he raised an eyebrow when you didn't express anything else.

"Then what's wrong?" Shoji asked lowly, voice gravelly and giving away just how much of an effect you had on him.

You bit your lip shyly at how you probably looked. Spread out for him, flushed to the core and panting. Your mind was racing. He had kissed you.

"S-Someone could walk in," You objected, stammering as you were only half aware that you guys were in the common area. "Don't you think we should— holy shit!!"

While you were protesting, he took the opportunity to latch onto the sweet spot under your neck, sucking harshly.

You couldn't help but whimper, your hands splayed against his broad chest as he continued to paint your skin with splotches of purple and pink.

"Mezo, come on, we should— eep!!"

Fed up with your objections as it hindered his passionate onslaught to your supple skin, Shoji hooked your legs around his waist, his huge hands cupping your ass as he practically sprinted to his room.

This time, your lips descended onto his, connecting the two of you together all the way there. You rocked against his hard-on pressed in between your bodies, moaning into his mouth as your core throbbed with need.

A growl ripped from the back of his throat as you did, and he leaned down to lay you on his bed, never separating himself from you for a second.

Cupping his face with both of your hands, you parted your lips, letting him explore your hot cavern. He slotted his body between your hips.

The two of you groaned in tandem as one of your hands slithered down to cup the stiff bulge and you whimpered when he pressed his knee against your clothed core. The pressure made slick pool in your panties and caused it to stick uncomfortably to your wet folds.

"Y/N..." He breathed shakily, his eyes clouded, giving away how much you affected him. "Can I—"

"Yes, please." You cut him off, unable to wait a second longer. "Please, Mezo, fuck me?"

Shoji's eyes widened and his cock got impossibly harder, straining against the confinements of his pants as he heard you beg for him. Beg for his cock to fill you up.

Fuck, that was so hot.

Your core was already throbbing with the need to have him inside of you. If he didn't do something soon you were sure you were going to combust.

Seeing his hesitancy as his fingers danced along the waistband of your pants, you quickly got tired of waiting and undressed by yourself, throwing your clothes in an uncaring heap onto the floor.

His eyes grew round in awe as your bare skin, breasts and that special place between your legs was revealed for him to freely drink in as you laid out before him, not an ounce of shame coloring your cheeks, save for the pink tips of your ears.

Cute.

Your back arched as his mouth latched onto one of your nipples, his big hands kneading the soft flesh, going harder when your response spurred him on. You whined as he flicked the pebbled tit, crying out as he bit down on it gently, a shock shooting through your system.

Shoji was studying every single one of your reactions to his touch, drinking it up as his eyes devoured you with barely restrained hunger.

"So... you like to be treated roughly..." He mused as he pulled upwards, your body following his touch as he let go of your breasts abruptly. "That's very interesting."

You whimpered in protest but that faded as he took his shirt off, the defined and sculpted muscle enough to make you forget what you were about to complain about. He was ripped, his torso flexing powerfully as he threw his shirt in the direction of the growing pile of clothes.

Licking your lips, you pulled him down to his level as he hastily undid the button of his pants, shoving it just past his hips so that his cock sprang free.

Your jaw dropped. He wasn't wearing underwear?!

Aside from that, he was fucking huge. How was even going to fit inside of you?!

You weren't given any time to dwell on his size as a finger probed your entrance. Your hands shot down to his wrist instinctively.

"M-Mezo, I'm s-sensitive—!!"

You cut off with a cry as he slipped it in, stretching you out.

Shoji closed his eyes, trying to restrain himself but you were just so hot and tight, pulsing around his finger like nothing else he ever felt.

"Is it too much?" He asked caringly, kissing you to ease you through it. You were unbelievable tight, he could already feel you clenching down on his single digit. "Do you want to stop?"

If your mind wasn't clouded with lust, you would've picked up on the subtle teasing lilt of his voice, as though he already knew what you were going to say.

"No..." You protested, squeezing your eyes shut, unknowingly doing exactly what he expected.

You could take it. You wanted him to make you take it.

Your eyes widened as he cursed behind you and that was when you realized that you said that last part out loud.

Oops. You were really in for it now.

You gasped in surprise as his hands released your wrists, but it was only temporary as he hooked your legs around his waist before he was immobilizing you again. Struggling slightly even though you were clearly overpowered, you begged for him to let you touch him before you died but he refused, shutting you up with a passionate kiss that stole your breath away.

Your body lurched and you wailed as he finally sank into your cunt, moaning and panting like a dog in heat as he sheathed his massive member all the way inside of your spasming channel.

A broken whimper of his name fell from your lips as his hips finally pressed flush against your ass, mewling as his balls rested against your puckered hole. You buried your face into his neck, ashamed of your reaction. He had barely done anything yet and already you felt like you were on the brink of cumming.

"Mezo—" You warned breathlessly, mouth gaping at the sheer size of him, your hole struggling to adjust. "Ngh!!"

Shoji braced himself up on his forearms, swearing under his breath as you clamped down around him. His fingers laced with yours from where he was still pinning your arms over your head, bending down to kiss you in order to distract you from the stretch.

You were hot, tight, and squeezing him with so much force, he already felt like he was going to cum. Stuttering out your name, he hissed as you clenched around him again.

"Y-Y/N, stop— don't do that." He begged, one of his hands fisting in your hair as he held onto his last thread of restraint while you adjusted to his size.

"C-Can't help it, Mezo." You whimpered, scratching his broad back as you fought the urge to arch your hips, knowing that was just going to encourage him to move before you were ready. "You... You're so big."

He had never prided himself on things like this, by how much he received praise or compliments from others so that he didn't have to question the authenticity of it, preferring most times to simply acknowledge it then let it go so that it didn't go to his head.

But he couldn't help it with you. There was something about the way you said it that ignited a flame of passion inside of him and it could not be put out.

Your nails dug into his back and a moan ripped from your throat as you felt him swell inside of you, catching on your walls without even trying.

"M-Mezo?!" You cried out in shock. "Why are you getting, oh fuck—"

A guttural groan sounded in the empty space and he let go of you, straightening up.

"You're so tight and warm." Shoji moaned, his left hand fisting the sheets as he gave a few experimental rolls of his hips, the other caressing your hip while his eyes fixated on where the two of you were joined together. "You feel like heaven, Y/N."

You squeaked in mortification as he said that, clapping a hand over your mouth as he thrusted into you harder, unable to contain the sounds spilling out of your mouth any longer. He felt so good inside of you. Pulsing and hot, thick and hard, it was a wonder how you were delirious with pleasure on his cock.

"Fuck..." You hissed through clenched teeth, your eyes tightly screwed shut.

Shoji stilled instantly, worried he had hurt you. His eyes scanned over your flushed face in concern.

"Are you alright? Do you want to stop?" He asked quickly and would've pulled out of you if your legs didn't lock around his hips, preventing him from even thinking about it a second longer.

You desperately shook your head then yanked him down to your level.

"Go fast, Mezo, fuck me hard." You pleaded. "Please."

There was no time to feel embarrassed by the words that came out of your mouth as he obliged instantly. Stars blinded your vision and you arched into his touch as he fucked you with a vigor that wasn't present before.

Shoji slammed your wrists down above your head and he kissed you hard, all of it teeth and tongue as he licked away your whimpers before they could break the symphony of wet skin slapping against skin that broke through the still atmosphere of his room.

Both of you were glad everyone was gone for the day because with how much noise you were making, it was clear what was going on.

His lips glossed over your pulse point, licking and sucking at the flushed skin there, marking you once again.

You shivered at the sensation of having him pressed against you and yet still attending to you with the same care you had come to expect from him. Your best friend now turned lover. If this was going to be more than a one-time deal.

"Mezo!!" You cried out as he finally pulled away from your neck, satisfied with the purple that bloomed there.

Shoji's teeth sank into your shoulder as he came deep inside of you, painting your walls with hot, thick and sticky ropes of cum.

You whimpered as he emptied in your ripe cunt, his release setting off yours and the powerful shockwaves of your orgasm crashed over you like a tsunami, causing your body to tremble uncontrollably. The copious amounts of his cum leaked out the instant he pulled out of you and your hole fluttered, no longer having his length to stuff you to the brim. You felt a bit sad now that you were left empty, and sat up, thinking that you guys were done.

How wrong you were.

You didn't have to look down to see that he was still hard as his cock pressed against your inner thigh the moment he kissed you again.

"Mezo?!" You shrieked, moaning wantonly against his lips as he moved over you once more. "How are you still hard?!"

He groaned, obviously in discomfort for having been denied even though he just came. "I'm sorry, Y/N, I need to cum again to make it go down."

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips at the sight of the leaking head and you moved to try and suck him off, wanting nothing more than the taste of him on your tongue as he shot his last load inside your mouth but he shook his head and stopped you short.

"You don't have to do that." Shoji said quickly, his cheeks flushing pink as he imagined you with your ass up as your cheeks were stuffed with his cock. Fuck, you'd look so good like that. But he had something else in mind.

Your eyes had glazed over a long time ago from the pleasure that he delivered to your system.

"I want to." You implored, batting your eyes at him, pupils blown wide.

Shoji surged forward, kissing you harder than last time and you melted into his touch. Any other time, he wouldn't fight you on it. But he didn't want to make you work any harder, even if it looked like you really wanted to suck him off. For now, he was content just to see you like this.

Spread out in front of him for only his eyes to see.

"Can you lay like this, Y/N?" He asked, gently maneuvering you onto your tummy and perking your rear up as a hand trailed down your spine to get you into the position he wanted to see you in. "I'll finish quickly."

You moaned quietly, still turned on and horny from before. Even though he had satisfied you so completely, there was a part of you that still longed to have him again.

You wanted him to stuff his cock in you like this.

So you couldn't help but mess with him a bit as the slick sounds of him jerking himself off started and breathy moans fell from his lips. You could go another round for him.

Poking out your ass a bit more, you smiled to yourself as his breath hitched and his movements stuttered. Swaying it from side to side purposefully to entice him, you were shocked when it worked a little too well, bringing out the beast in the tame boy that was your best friend.

Your eyes shot open and your jaw dropped open in a soundless cry as he pushed into you without warning, sinking his fat cock balls-deep into your pussy still quivering with the aftershocks of your last orgasm.

"Mezo!! Ahhh—" You cried out, caught off guard but unbelievably turned on so much that it filled you with shame.

A messy mixture of your juices and his thick cum pushed out of you as he rammed into you all the way to the hilt and all the oxygen disappeared from your lungs.

The sloppy sounds of your cunt making as he fucked you into his bed had you gripping onto his pillow and slamming it against your face to curb all the noises that were tearing from your throat.

It was yanked out of your grasp a second later.

"Don't hide, let me hear you." Shoji begged, unable to help himself from shoving his cock into the deepest parts of your little cunny. You looked so pretty spread out underneath him like this, at his mercy entirely as he pinned you down. Your arousal ran down your thighs as he continued to fuck you, his fat cock stuffing your hole perfectly.

Like you were made for him.

He threw his head back, he redoubled his efforts to make you feel as good as your pussy was making him feel.

"You look so beautiful when you're taking my cock like this." Shoji whispered to himself in awe, disbelieving that his dream was finally coming true after all this time as he watched his length disappear into you over and over again, completely entranced. "Feels so good, hhgh—!!"

Your hole fluttered around his thick girth, struggling to take his size as he pumped in and out of you at an alarming speed.

Whining, you could do nothing else but take it as he pounded you raw and rough, his hips slapping into your ass with a vigor that blanked your mind and left you gasping at the sensation.

Your wrists, still pinned down by his hands as his duplicated gripped your hips for stability as he got you closer to that peak, strained against his strength as the pressure built up in your stomach. "Mezo...'m gonna... gonna—"

"Gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Cream your cunny on my cock?" Shoji murmured, reducing his thrusts to sharp ruts, focusing all his attention on that little spot that made you see stars. "C'mon, give me one more. I need it."

That did it.

Your orgasm washed over you and your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your body trembling violently as he continued to push your limits, pumping in and out of you erratically before emptying himself into you with a deep groan.

Face flushed and eyes glassy, stilling rolling back from the throws of the intensity of your orgasm, you panted, twisting back to meet him in a kiss much softer and more loving than all the previous ones.

Now that his pent up frustration had been dealt with in the best possible way, he pulled out of you with a soft grunt, kissing you wordlessly when you whined at the loss of him.

Shoji hushed you softly as he cleaned the mess dripping out of you with a warm washcloth, urging you to go to the bathroom.

You couldn't stand up though, lacking the strength after that very thorough dicking down he gave you. Legs like jelly, you would've collapsed to the floor if he didn't catch you in time, pulling you up to his chest to carry you the rest of the way.

You hid your face in the crook of his neck as he took care of you, seeing as how all your energy was depleted. Slapping his chest halfheartedly in embarrassment as he chuckled when you jolted as he cleaned the sore but achingly sensitive bud between your legs.

Shoji nudged your ear with his nose, murmuring softly. "Are you alright?"

You hummed, eyelids heavy as you started to drift off.

He kissed the top of your head before bringing you back to bed so that you could take a nap. Somewhere between the walk from his bathroom to his bed, you stirred, arising from your light slumber only to be met with a concerned expression.

"Calm down, Mezo," You giggled, pecking him on the lips softly. "I'm good."

His shoulders slumped in relief. He was kind of worried he had broken you after a session like that. Scratching the back of his neck once you laid down, he hesitated before speaking.

"Don't worry me like that again. You're too reckless for your own good." He told you, anxiety resting heavy on his features.

You wiggled your eyebrows at him suggestively. "I don't know... That was a pretty good punishment if you ask me."

Shoji rolled his eyes but a hint of a smile played upon his lips. "I'm serious, Y/N."

Your smile disappeared and you nodded solemnly, sheepish now that you had been chastised.

"I know, I'm sorry." You apologized quietly, remorseful. You hadn't meant to worry him or any of them really. You honestly thought that you could handle it.

You had fought villains before, you thought you could tame a few punk kids who were bullying your little brother. You almost felt ashamed that they had managed to best you.

The initial idea was to capture them and report them to the authorities, since they were a part of a crew who liked to rob stores for fun, but the tables turned on you when they freely used their quirks on you.

Luckily, you had been able to dodge most of them, only sustaining minor damage from an attack you hadn't avoided in time.

Shoji knelt down by the bedside and your brow furrowed when he didn't climb under the covers with you.

"Mezo?" You squeaked when he engulfed you in a hug, all your insecurities melting away as his warmth flooded you.

He trembled as you said his name but otherwise didn't move. Instead, he mumbled something against your neck and you laughed.

"I can't quite hear you." You teased him, prying him away to get a good look at his eyes. They were swirling with an unknown emotion and you swallowed hard. "What's wrong?"

Shoji stared at you, his gaze boring into your soul as he took down all your walls you had built up around your heart to protect yourself with an ease that shocked you.

"Rely on me." He murmured, lacing his fingers with yours and gulping at how small your hands were compared to his. "I want you to rely on me like..."

You couldn't breathe. It sounded like...

"Like what?" You prompted breathlessly, not daring to hope that he was going to say what you so longed to hear from him.

His cheeks pinked and he turned away from you. "Nothing."

Your heart sank into your chest and you visibly deflated.

"Oh..." You said softly, expression saddening when he refused to look at you.

Gathering the sheets around you to cover your naked body, you suppressed a shiver as the cold air got through and you blindly reached around for your clothes on the floor.

Shoji's mouth pressed in a hard line and he shook his head. Any other time, he would be there to help you but not now. Not when his mind was racing with the possibilities of what could go wrong if he confessed his true feelings for you right here and now.

It was overwhelming him and he felt overtaken by fear that you would reject him, destroying the close friendship you had.

But...

"Y/N."

You straightened up, fumbling with the sheet as it accidentally slipped. But you blushed when Shoji draped his shawl over you, his scent filling your nose and you tripped over your words, thoroughly flustered for some kind of explanation as to why you were reacting like you were back in your first year of high school.

"I like you."

You balked, jaw dropping open in shock.

Shoji actually jumped back, startled as you swore in front of him.

"You're kidding."

His brow furrowed in confusion and he crossed his arms. "No, I'm perfectly serious."

You shook your head. There was no way that he, the coolest, most respectable and kindest guy you have ever met and had the privilege of calling your best friend, liked you back.

But judging by that affronted look on his face, you might've jumped to conclusions too soon.

Warily, you approached him, abandoning the search for your clothes.

You hastily apologized. "I'm sorry, I guess it's hard to believe how someone like you would be interested in me."

Now in front of him, you had a chance to see how much he towered over you. It was different from when you would hang out in each other's rooms where he would crouch down on the floor or sit on a chair so that the height difference wasn't so obvious.

But you felt safe as he curled his arms around you tentatively, even though it was such a contrast to how he was fucking the brains out of you earlier.

"Well, I do." Shoji murmured into your hair as he brought you in for a hug, firm and unyielding in his feelings for you even though you had yet to say anything.

You hadn't said it back but you hadn't shot him down either. He didn't know if it was foolish to hope for a chance that you would want to be with him too, or perhaps, oh no, had he made you uncomfortable?

Maybe you weren't saying anything because you didn't know how to reject—

"I like you too." You mumbled into his chest.

This time, Shoji was the one to do a double take. "Y/N?!"

"Oh hush." You said, hiding your face from his frantic gaze so that he couldn't see how red your face was. Confessing feelings was exhausting and now you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with your new boyfriend.

Shoji's chest rumbled underneath your fingertips and just when you thought your face couldn't burn anymore out of embarrassment and shyness, he leaned back and tipped your chin up.

"I'm glad you return my feelings." He smiled, a pure smile that radiated the most wholesome level of happiness possible and your heart skipped a beat.

You found you mirrored his joy instinctively, it was contagious. And when he closed the distance to kiss you once more, it sealed a pact that would stay forever and could never be broken.

"I think I'll have to be more reckless from now on." You breathed when he finally pulled away and a small pout formed on his lips.

"Y/N..." Shoji warned, not finding your joke funny in the slightest.

You giggled, looping your arms around his neck as you stood on your tiptoes, booping his nose with yours. "I'm kidding, but I do think it was worth it."

He raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

You grinned, a cheeky smile that told him he hadn't seen the last of your mischief.

"Because it finally got you to confess."

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel​

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #my hero academia shoji #shoji #shoji x reader #shoji x reader smut #shoji mezo #mezo shoji #mezou shouji #shouji mezou #shouji x reader #shouji x reader smut #bnha shoji #bnha #bnha oneshot #my hero academia oneshot #shouji oneshot #shoji smut #shouji smut #shoji x reader oneshot #shoji mezo x reader oneshot #boku no hero academia oneshot #bnha shoji x reader #bnha shoji x reader smut #my hero academia smut #bnha smut #mha smut #mha oneshot #bnhacity

[ev-pierce-writes]

Doll

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x F!Reader

Words: 7.7K

Rating: Very much 18+

Warnings: P in V, oral (fem receiving), light (consensual) choking, praise, James Buchanan Barnes is a sad boy and only you can make him happy, mutual therapy over past trauma, a couple light spanks, and some sexy sparring

Note: Reader had a run-in with Hydra that gave you invisibility powers. Bucky is tasked with training you. Totally not canon, I just kept the parts I liked. Got the idea from a tiktok but I can't find it anymore oops. I'm thinking of turning it into a series of all the places you can fuck Bucky Barnes at Avengers HQ. Enjoyyyyyy....

---

"Alright, so I'm thinking absolutely the first thing you need is a suit. Because we can't have you sneaking around in clothes that give you away."

Tony Stark and Peter Parker stand before you at Avengers HQ, furiously tossing ideas back and forth, trying to come up with ways to build you the best possible suit. Last night had been...interesting, to say the least.

"Who's that?" Stark had said when you appeared all of a sudden from your room. "Come on Agent Hill, don't tell me you're taking in lost kids nowadays."

Your mother had only laughed, slightly inebriated and feeling loose because of all the drinking that was going on in your penthouse apartment. She was hosting one of those parties where too many superpowers drank too much alcohol and got a little too rowdy. "That's my daughter."

Usually, you stay away from such events, go out with friends, and avoid the house until it's all over. For the past four years, you hadn't even been in the house to need to avoid it. But now you're 22 and a recent college graduate and something about the party was drawing you in so you had emerged from your hideaway to join in the fun.

"Alright, Maria, how'd you manage to keep that one a secret?" Romanov spoke up.

Until this point, you'd remained silent, in shock at the sudden attention a group of superheroes had focused onto you. But you couldn't help yourself from responding now. You'd managed to hide away long enough. It was time to come into the open.

"I'm a ghost," you said jokingly, approaching the couch and stealing the drink your mother had been drinking to take a sip. It was strong and burned on the way down. The group laughed at your words, unaware of how true they really were.

It was then that you'd performed your little trick, the one that only a few of your closest friends had ever seen. You became invisible.

The laughter had immediately stopped. The girl who suddenly appeared out of thin air had disappeared right back into it. They could still tell where you were of course. The glass in your hand remained visible, floating in mid-air, giving away your position. And your clothes were still perceptible, not being able to change with you. But your features were otherwise undetectable, not even a shimmer revealing your face. You took another sip of the drink, liquid disappearing into an invisible mouth.

"I want her. On the team," Stark had said.

And that was it. The start of your superhero career.

"Explain again exactly how this works?" Parker asks.

You sigh and start from the beginning, again. "I can distort the absorption wavelengths of my cells so that the reflected light is in the invisible range, usually infrared."

"And how long can you hold it for?"

"About seven minutes now," you explain. "It's sort of like holding your breath. You can go underwater for a while, and you can practice holding your breath longer and longer, but eventually, you need to come up for air. Eventually, I have to 'recharge.' But I've been working on extending it."

Stark turns to one of the many holograms of his supercomputer, working with Friday to design a brand new suit to accommodate your skills. You're so engrossed in watching his process you don't even notice the shadowy figure appear in the doorway that leads to the training facilities.

"How'd you get these powers? Agent Hill isn't lacking in skill but it certainly isn't supernatural."

You knew Stark's question would come up eventually. It always did. Over time, it became easier to tell the story, but now you really don't feel like explaining fully, so you tell the short version.

"Hydra. When I was seventeen. They used me as a bargaining chip against my mom in a mission gone wrong and decided to experiment on me in the process. Left me with a lot of scars and a lot of therapy. Almost dropped out of school."

You don't remember much from the experience. But enough for it to leave lasting damage.

"Hydra?" a familiar voice asks behind you. Only now do you notice that Barnes is behind you. How long has he been watching?

You remain silent, just like you did the night before when he'd arrived late to the party, unable to speak under his gaze.

You had planned to leave not long after you joined the festivities. But when the elevator doors opened, a pair of blue eyes halted you in your path. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. You'd recognize those eyes anywhere. Crystal clear and icy, freezing you under their gaze. He wore a leather jacket and leather gloves, concealing his metal arm, but you knew it was there, hiding behind the layers.

Barnes had always been the one that caught your eye during your mother's briefings. His transition from the greatest warrior Hydra had to offer, and thus S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest enemy, to the trusted companion of Captain America and official Avengers member intrigued you. At first, he had been more of a schoolgirl crush, the little girl grappling with her new powers seeking guidance in someone who didn't even know she existed. But age had not reduced your admiration of him. Barnes' face was hard set in serious determination and his glance barely grazed over you before turning to the rest of the group. He paid you not a single ounce of attention, yet you felt dumbstruck in his presence.

But Bucky had noticed you that night. Noticed you in a way he wanted desperately to hide, so he disallowed his eyes from lingering on you. Who were you and why were you wearing pajamas at a party and how did you make them actually look good?

And not only did he notice you, but he recognized you. He wasn't sure how, but something at the back of his head buried beneath decades of blurred half-memories told him he knew you. It was a stupid thought, though. How could he know you?

From the doorway, his eyes narrow in concern, making you feel smaller than ever beneath him. How is that 5 o'clock shadow so enticing? You just want to run your fingers across--

Stark gestures at Barnes, completely ignoring his comment. "Good, you're here. Our young Agent Hill needs to get started with her training immediately. I want her in the field but she can't be going in inexperienced. Teach her the works."

It's rather bold of Stark to assume you have no combat skills. And to assume you even want to go into the field. But you follow behind Barnes in silence anyway toward the training facilities. It doesn't matter what you know and don't know. He's going to kick your ass anyway.

"Feet wider," he says, coaching you on your swing. His blue eyes have somehow darkened, and along with the faint beard, he looks positively dangerous. "Not too wide."

"I know how to punch, Barnes," you whisper under your breath. He's not meant to hear your words, but he does anyway.

"Oh yeah? Punch me then. Go for it." His voice is challenging in the way that reveals he knows he could block any swing that comes at him. But he wants to see what will happen. Your mention of Hydra loosened a memory in his brain somewhere, and though he can't quite place his finger on it, the memory told him you're anything but the kid he's treating you like. He wants to know what you really have inside you.

Your annoyance gets the best of you. You aim for his face, the way your mother taught you. And she taught you well, teaching you all the self-defense skills you might need moving through the world as a woman. But she did not teach you how to fight super soldiers. That's an entirely different world.

Unsurprisingly, Barnes predicts your move and his metal arm comes up to meet your human one, halting your punch mid-swing. His palm fully engulfs your fist, your knuckles slamming into the metal with a ringing sound.

"Fuck, that hurt," you seethe through your teeth, gripping your hand in pain. And yet, you still smile. You mean for your words to sound irritated, but they betray how much you enjoy getting a swing in. "Didn't have to do me like that, Barnes."

He ignores your pain, though secretly it pleases him to find how much force is truly behind your punch. Nothing, of course, his metal arm can't take, but strong enough. "Language, kid. Go again. And this time, try not to be so obvious."

Despite his advice, it's impossible. He predicts every one of your strikes and counters them with four times as much strength as you possess. You give him everything you have, and nothing lands.

"This would be a lot easier if you let me use my powers."

So far, Barnes has refused to let you fight invisible, not that it would have done you much good without a proper suit. But you're tired and sweaty, your hair falling from its ponytail and sticking to your face, your muscles aching and your heart beating fast. Barnes hasn't even broken a sweat.

"Unless you learn to fight without your powers, they'll do nothing more than level the playing field. You need to be at an advantage if you're going to survive."

Survive. You've done plenty of that already. You want better than survival. Barnes recognizes the look on your face, the one that expresses the desire plainly. He knows the feeling, drifting from one day to the next and wanting more than that.

His voice softens a bit. "We can call it quits for the day. Get some rest. We'll go again tomorrow."

He didn't intend to be so kind. It just sort of happened, drawn out of him by the not-so-innocent girl who still has a lot to learn but can hold her own better than most.

---

Tomorrow. Tomorrow's8 like the day before, 9 am at HQ, wait for Parker to get his ass up the elevator so Stark can begin, get sidetracked by coffee, and then finally return to the task at hand.

"Give this a shot," Stark says, handing you what looks like nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped paper suit. "Not exactly protective, but it's a new technology. Should conform to your abilities."

"You did this overnight?"

"Of course. Get changed."

The suit has little support and definitely no protection. You feel like a fingernail could rip a hole through it if you pull on it wrong, let alone a knife coming at you from an angry enemy. But it's a start. An impressive start. You stare at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom as you shift, the suit shifting along with you.

Back in the training facilities, where you know Stark and Parker will be waiting, you remain in your shifted form. They don't look up as you enter, somehow having not heard you, and instead are engaged in a heated discussion with Barnes about something you don't understand. So you creep up behind Parker, lean in, and whisper into his ear.

"I think it works."

You feel a little bad, but only for a moment. Parker jumps straight out of his skin, screaming a scream you didn't know was possible from the kid. Stark lets out a laugh as you rematerialize, and Barnes even cracks a smile at your prank.

"Yeah, yeah, I'd say so." Parker's voice quivers.

"Well, what do you think?" Stark asks.

"Very thin," you say, aware that much more is visible than you really want. "I feel like it's going to rip at any moment. And there's not a whole lot of support in this area."

You gesture vaguely at your chest, not knowing how best to explain to a group of men that a sports bra is a necessity for fighting, but knowing you have to make them aware all the same. You can feel Barnes' eyes on you, a little less polite than the others, and you find you like the way he eyes you up, a bit like a puzzle to be solved or a strategy to be devised.

"Right, right, I'll get on that. Only a prototype anyway," Stark responds nervously. "Back to work, Parker. Hill, Barnes, back to training."

Bucky tries his best not to picture what you might look like without that suit, but it leaves little to the imagination as you saunter away to change again.

And so the days move forward. You've never before been so busy or exhausted in your life. You just graduated college, which is a feat in itself, but all the training, all the work, keeps you on your toes so that by the end of the day, both your brain and your body are tired.

Still, you improve and get better at sparring Barnes, even taking him down a couple of times on your own, though you suspect he's going easy on you.

"Again." Barnes is already on his feet and helping you to yours. Today the sparring room is particularly warm, and you've long forgone your sweats for shorts and a sports bra. Barnes has lost the shirt as well, and his chest glistens with sweat beneath the fluorescent lights. Maybe it's the heat or maybe it's him, but the whole thing feels a bit dreamlike. Here you are, sparring with a man who could take you to the ground with one arm alone, and he's letting you kick his ass every once in a while.

But there's no way you can do it again. You feel destroyed by all the slamming onto the mat.

Barnes is doing his best not to be distracted as well, but those tight shorts and the top that reveals your midriff have to be on purpose. It's easy to admit to himself that he likes you, might even be attracted to you. You fight hard and relentlessly, rising to every one of his challenges and not backing down even when you're tired. You've already come a long way since that first encounter, and Barnes has come to look forward to the two hours a day you spend together in the gym. He had tried to tell himself it was the fun of having a new sparring partner, but in truth, he knows it's the determined glint in your eyes, the way you bounce on your feet in excited anticipation of the fight, the way you collapse on the mat after a hard session, chest heaving deep breaths in and out. But what he likes most is your heated gaze when he pins you to the ground, or even better, you pin him.

"Knock me down one more time and you can be done," he challenges. The familiar determination returns, though a flicker of doubt remains behind your eyes. He can tell you need encouragement. "Remember to use your size to your advantage. Don't let me get ahead of you. Keep me guessing."

You do your best. You really do. You hold your own for almost two minutes, but it's obvious you're only barely staying ahead of him. As soon as you falter, Barnes has you flat on your back on the mat without much resistance, immobilized by a knee on your thighs and his metal arm trapping your hands over your head. His free hand plants by your head and holds him up to prevent him from actually hurting you.

You gasp underneath him, trying to disguise the weird flicker of desire with breathlessness. He looks good from down here, all sweaty and dark and serious. But you're also a bit too tired to care. "I'm out, Barnes. Let me go."

Let me go. Please.

And that's when the memory returns. The full, real memory, the one that has been tickling the edges of his brain since he first saw you. You, a kid, his mission. Kidnap, don't kill. A small voice, your voice, begging. Please, let me go. What has he done?

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, standing up quickly.

"Language, Barnes," you say teasingly. But he doesn't laugh, simply exits the sparring room, abruptly leaving you, speechless and alone on the floor. What just happened?

After a moment of confused silence on the mat, you brush it off and stand, heading to your room for a shower. Stark offered you a place to stay at HQ, and you happily agreed. Though you loved being back with your mother after four years away at college, you cherish your independence. A room at HQ offered you just that.

A nice shower would certainly make you feel better after that confusing interaction. You pull on your robe and shower shoes, leaving your clothes behind so as to carry one less thing. But as you pass down the hall toward the showers, you can hear Barnes' voice drift through the slightly open door to his room.

"I remembered," he says. "It was her. I'm the reason she's--" He cuts off, appearing to be interrupted by whoever he's talking to on the phone. You pause by the open door.

"I know that's not me anymore but I'm still responsible," he continues. "I have to tell her."

Again a pause. By now it's apparent he's talking about you.

"No, Steve, we aren't a team. We aren't partners. I'm helping Tony out. I don't care if she doesn't want to work with me anymore, this is part of my redemption. I have to tell her."

The conversation seems over. You rush to the showers, not wanting Barnes to realize you were listening the whole time. Apologize, he said. Apologize for what? You've known him for a whole of four days and he's been nothing but polite to you. Cold, at first, but he warms upon acquaintance. And then he's downright sweet.

So sweet, you realize, for someone so damaged. He has every right to hate the world, and though he walks through it with a healthy dose of cynicism, he never lets that cynicism touch you. If anything, he's outright positive around you, an undeserving brat. A kid, really, though you don't like when he calls you that. You know you can be naive, positive on the verge of artificiality, and yet he never tries to burst your bubble. In fact, he seems to relish it.

The shower feels nice, but it does nothing to assuage your fears. Maybe it's you who has done something wrong? Now you're spiraling. You have to find out what's going on or it's going to drive you crazy.

You know what you have to do. You have just about seven minutes of invisibility before your shifting gives out. In those seven minutes, you can duck from the showers, sneak into Barnes' room, snoop around, and make it back to the showers unseen. Plenty of time. But you have to go nude. Now would be a great time for the suit, but no such luck. Naked it is.

Out in the hallway, all is quiet. Barnes' door is still ajar, but when you peek your head in, the room is empty.

Easy.

Where to start? His phone is a dead end, being one of those ancient flipping kinds rather than a new, high-tech smartphone. He has few personal belongings, the bed is made perfectly, and his closet contains only clothes.

The drawers of the nightstand are empty. Or nearly empty. At the back of the top drawer is unceremoniously shoved a small booklet with a pen stuck between the pages. It's worn and supple, as though held a thousand times and read a thousand more. You flip through, finding a list of names, some crossed out, others not. Your name does not appear, but something about the list tells you these are not ordinary names. These are the names of his victims, people Barnes hurt as the Winter Soldier. Your heart aches and your stomach clenches, the reminder of his past jarring against the kind demeanor you've come to know. But deep down, you know this isn't him, know he's a good man, despite it all.

You know better than most the first-hand horrors of Hydra's super-soldier experiments. Of anyone, you can relate best to the experience Barnes has been through. Your memories of that long week are blurry, but the pain remains, forever seared into your mind. You can only imagine a lifetime of that pain.

The sound of the door opening jolts you from your reverie and you close the drawer quickly. But you soon realize your mistake. Barnes would know he left the door open, would know exactly how he placed his book in the drawer, would recognize something was off. Unfortunately, you're right.

"Hello?" he calls into the darkening room. The evening is coming on fast and the sun dims to barely glimmer, casting the space in shadow despite the large windows on the south wall.

Bucky knows something is off the moment he finds your room unoccupied, having gone there with the express purpose of confronting you about his actions earlier in the afternoon. And though he has no way of truly knowing, he suspects you are now here, in this room with him, invisible to his gaze. Bucky shuts the door behind him and waits.

You're trapped. You don't have long before your powers give out; already the suffocating feeling that begs you to take a breath is coming on. And Barnes has closed the door, effectively sealing you in, as you can't open it without him knowing for sure that you're here. On top of that, you're clothingless. You've run out of options and Barnes seems to sense this. So, he waits, drawing out the moment of tension, building the suspense.

"I know you're here," he says finally, his voice soft and barely audible. "You can't hide that well. Next time, dry your feet off before you go leaving wet footprints all over the place."

Oops.

"I--" you begin, and immediately Barnes' eyes snap to where your voice originates from. "I'm sorry. I overheard your conversation with Rogers. I shouldn't have but I know it was about me."

Barnes sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, you're right. I have some things to explain. Though I'd much prefer talking to you if I could see you."

You hesitate. "Only a slight problem there. I'm not wearing any clothes."

If it had been any lighter in the room you would have seen Barnes blush. Instead, you watch him pull his shirt over his head. He hands it to you blindly, the shirt off his own back, soft with wear and long enough to cover the tops of your thighs. It smells of him, salty with sweat and sweet with the scent you've come to recognize only as him. You shrug it on and shift back.

"I'm sorry," you say again, having trouble concentrating with Barnes' bare chest at your eye level. Is that an old bullet wound on his shoulder? The reminder of a knife across his stomach? You can't look away, even at the seam where man meets metal.

Barnes shakes his head. "No, I should be the one apologizing."

He pauses for a moment and tries to begin several times before finally forming a complete sentence.

"It's my fault you're like this, that Hydra tested on you. It was me who kidnapped you, it was me who followed orders, it was me who completed the mission and got you hurt. And I'm so sorry."

You're so frozen in shock that the absurdity of the situation doesn't even register. There's nothing under this shirt, no underwear, no pants, no bra. And here you are standing in the bedroom of your greatest inspiration, listening to him apologize for being the one that facilitated your kidnapping, for being responsible for all the injury, the pain, the nightmares, the isolation, the...

It all comes flooding back, the things you had forgotten, or simply chose to not remember, and one of those things is his face.

You thought you'd dealt with impact. So many hours with a therapist, and you realize all you did was suppress the feelings, not confront them. And then you break, all the anger and sadness and frustration flowing from you at once.

"You piece of shit." Your voice begins as a whisper but soon amplifies nearly to a shout. "You monster, you bastard, how could you? How could you?"

All this time you forgave him for the damage he'd done, excused it as brainwashing and manipulation from Hydra. But now that it's you he's involved, you have somewhere to direct your anger, and you take it out as a shove straight to his chest.

He didn't expect that one. The words he understood. He accepted those, accepted that you would hate him forever. But then you're pushing and hitting him with all your force. Barnes could fight back, could hold his ground. But you need this, so he lets you shove him into the wall with a newfound strength. Finally against the wall, with nowhere left to go, you turn to pummelling his chest with your fists, repeating the words over and over, how could you, how could you, how could you.

For a moment, he lets it happen. But eventually, Barnes reacts, grabbing your wrists and holding them to his chest in an attempt to calm the fury that rages inside you. Surprisingly, at his touch, you still, slumping against him once the anger is replaced with nothing but sadness. That anger, one you never truly realized you'd harbored since your capture, bled from you all at once, leaving you exhausted.

You don't notice you're crying until a soft thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. Barnes releases your hands and wraps his arms around your sobbing body, pulling you close. "I'm so sorry," he repeats in your ear, his words a whisper against the rage inside your head.

Is it hours, or only minutes, standing like that, wrapped up in him, his skin so soft against your cheek? Time has ceased to exist, melting into the nighttime that encompasses the room in near pitch-black darkness. Your breath calms, your heart rate slows, the tears dry. He's only a man, a broken, misplaced, lost man. But he's also impossibly kind to you, caring enough to train you day after day, to pick you up when you fall down, to ensure you're happy here at all times. That's the man you know and rest your cheek against and seek out for comfort in this moment, despite him being the reason for your anger. But he's not truly the reason for your anger, only an easy outlet standing right before you.

This is not how Bucky had expected this to go. Perhaps to never see you again, yes. But to hold you in his arms, certainly not. And not just hold you, but comfort you. It surprises him how much he finds he likes it. And he can't ignore the fact that you're here in his room, wearing his shirt and only his shirt. He doesn't try anything improprietous, just wraps his arms around your waist, but it's not lost on him that your supple chest is pressed against him and the delicious scent from your still wet hair is filling his brain with a flowery cloud. His stomach clenches at the thought of burying his face in that smell for the rest of the night but he pushes it aside. That's not why you're here. That's not what you want.

But your next words surprise him. You pull slightly away, tilting your splotchy face upward towards his to look him in the eye. You take a ragged breath and speak.

"I forgive you."

Bucky is taken aback. That's not why he made this confession, not to seek your forgiveness. "You don't have to do that."

"I know. But I do. And I know you think I'm just a kid--"

Barnes lets out a short laugh, cutting you off immediately. "Jesus Christ, that's not true. You're not a kid. You're smart and strong and capable. And you've seen the ugly world for its true self and choose to remain good and happy all the same. I'm not like that and that makes you wiser than I'll ever be."

He takes a deep breath, unsure if he should admit to the feelings he desperately wants to express to you. The way you're looking at him, with a mixture of hesitation and admiration, makes the words tumble from his mouth without a second thought.

"But somehow being around you makes me want to be good again. Not for my sake, but for yours."

"James, I--" You've never used his first name before, but it falls deliciously from your lips, the sound of it nearly distracting him from the finger you run across the stubble on the cleft of his chin. Nearly. He captures that hand in his own, holding it there against his face.

"You don't have to forgive me. I don't deserve it," he repeats, eyes falling shut to the feeling of your thumb pressed to the corner of his lips. He still holds you close, the other arm wrapping tight around you, and though verbally he rejected the comfort your warmth offered, his body says otherwise, desperate for the acceptance his brain refuses to give into.

"Stop punishing yourself," you whisper. For a moment, he almost feels that he could.

And when your lips find his, soft and delicate, he forgets why you're even here in the first place, forgets his guilt and your anger, forgets even to react.

His lack of response has you pulling away, worried you've done something wrong, but then he's chasing your lips with his own, leaning forward to meet you halfway, gathering you impossibly tighter to his chest. He pauses, mouth mere centimeters from yours, eyes still shut, a deep breath heaving from his chest. He wants more, wants to kiss you again in all the places that count, but he can't quite yet.

"What was that for?" The question's not an accusatory one but simply curious. Have you always looked at him in this light since day one? Has he just not noticed?

"Are you blind, Barnes?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "None of that last name shit, doll, we've moved on to a first-name basis."

But your words are enough to surge him forward, this time capturing your lips in a dominating kiss that leaves you gasping for air. He takes advantage of your open mouth and presses his tongue to yours, seeking to fill his soul with your all-consuming warmth, to wrap it around him like a cocoon of your scent. His fingers slide down your back and slip under the shirt you wear, his shirt, grasping at the bare skin of your ass, filling his hands with your supple flesh.

You moan softly under his touch, relishing in the feeling of being encompassed by someone so large and so strong. The vibranium arm, which you expected to be harshly indelicate against your relative fragility, caresses you with the same gentility of the other. The intense contact sends your heart racing like it did all the times you were pinned below him on the sparring mat. Will he pin you like that in bed? Hold you down while he fucks you within an inch of your life?

The thought rouses a heat between your legs and stirs butterflies in your tummy. You don't even know if that's where this is going, but it invades your brain anyways. You're sure Barnes can feel your racing pulse beneath his lips when he kisses your neck, sending your nerves haywire as he creeps toward the neckline of your shirt. He inhales your scent, the hot air of his breath fanning your cool skin.

Everything about this is sloppy, the wet kisses dragged across your skin, his tongue tangled with yours, your fingers tugging at the hair that brushes the nape of his neck. Even his hips against yours are messy and rough, the heat of him leaving your core feeling slick, the wetness of it rubbing between your naked thighs. And then Barnes is sliding his hands back up your body, this time under your shirt, and tugging it over your head, his lips leaving your skin just long enough to toss the item to the ground.

You expect him to keep surging forward, to lift you in his arms and take you to bed like you want him to. But he pauses instead, hands cradling the back of your head, his eyes staring intensely into yours. Or you think he's staring into your eyes.

"Are you okay? Is this okay?" His voice is full of concern but raspy with arousal all the same.

"Yes, James, yes, I need more."

"Well, I would, it's just that you've disappeared on me again." One look at your hands and you know he was looking right through you, not at you. The swirl of emotions--pleasure, arousal, timidity even--sent you shifting without your knowledge. You can't help but laugh.

"Let me see you, doll," he groans, sounding exasperated that he can't rake his gaze across your naked flesh or find all the places he wants to touch you because they're invisible.

"You first."

A heated understanding lights up his eyes, still vibrant in the darkness of the room. Slowly, he releases his grip on you, relenting to not knowing where you are in space. You take an invisible step back to get a better view of the specimen before you. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt, sliding the leather from his pants and dropping it to the floor with a thunk. And then his pants are gone and he's left in his boxers, tight against the bulging muscles of his thighs.

And other bulging things. He doesn't hide his attraction to you. But still, you do not reappear.

Bucky begins to worry you're never going to, that maybe he's taken things too for. But then, a soft finger trails across his neck and he jerks in surprise. You're tracing the plain of his chest with a feather-light touch, dipping into the indent between his collarbones, feeling along the puckered scar of a bullet wound and the long slice of a knife. He feels healed beneath your touch, but it's not enough to satisfy the insatiable hunger building in the tightness of his groin. This entire evening has been a long, drawn-out, build-up of tension, and if he doesn't release it soon, it will snap like an overstretched rubber band.

He makes his move.

Apparently, Bucky's senses are just as perceptive here as they are on the sparring mat. His metal hand shoots up and wraps around the wrist of the hand on his chest, despite being unable to see it. The other reaches out and grapples at your invisible body in the dark, somehow finding your waist. He doesn't need to see you to manage to flip you around and press your back against his chest. In your surprise, your invisibility falters, and you flicker out of your shifted form with a flustered squeak, one hand suddenly pinned between your back and Bucky's rock-hard chest.

He holds on with an iron grip and walks you toward the bed, holding you up to prevent you from tripping in your ruffled state.

"You're taking too long, doll," he mumbles into your ear, and you feel his chest rumble with the vibrations. Your free hand flies to the one around your waist, which is slowly creeping upward toward your breast to twist at the sensitive nipple. "I know you like it when I pin you on the sparring floor. I can see it in your eyes. I'll take you like that right now if you give me the word."

Fuck, you want nothing more but you can't breathe enough to get the words out, opting for nodding vigorously instead. But Bucky wants words, gently prodding you forward to get a verbal commitment out of you. He will never take you against your will again. So you manage a long, drawn-out please and suddenly you're face-first in the sheets, bent halfway at the waist, your ass grinding against the delicious bulge pressed against your aching cunt. It pleases you that he has been thinking the same wicked thoughts as you when he slams you to the mat over and over again in training.

Bucky pulls your arm out from underneath you, joining it with the other and holding them together with his metal fist at your lower back, forcing your chest further into the mattress and your ass higher in the air. There's no way for you to move, no matter how hard you try. But you don't try, won't try. Bucky has you right where you want to be.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs in your ear and you breathe an affirmation. His teeth nibble suddenly at your ear lobe and you squirm, the sensation of his breath fanning your skin sending goosebumps along the trail of kisses he leaves down your spine. Somehow, you know this is only the calm before the storm, the gentle caresses of a man who's about to rearrange every organ in your body, all the way up to your heart if you aren't careful.

It doesn't matter to you that it's pitch black in the room; you wouldn't have been able to see anything with your face shoved into the comforter, even if the lights were on. But Bucky's starting to regret having left the lights off, wishing he could better see the curve of your hips, the swell of your thighs, or the bloom of his handprint on your ass when his hand comes down with a smack. He resigns to being satisfied by the mewling gasp that escapes your lips and your soft pleas to Do it again, harder.

So he does. Smack.

And then he's sinking to his knees and you can tell because he leaves a wet stripe of skin with his tongue over the globe of your ass and blows a shock of cool air across the rawness of your skin.  He replaces the sting of his hand with the bite of his teeth and then a kiss to soothe you again. The rollercoaster of sensations has you moaning against the mattress and rocking your hips toward his face and Barnes chuckles at your movement, your actions giving away the desperation you feel to have his tongue move to more sensitive places.

He is happy to oblige. You hadn't even noticed you'd been squeezing your thighs together until he slid a hand up between them, forcing them apart. It's a blessing your legs aren't doing any work to keep you up anymore because they feel like jelly under his touch. The hand between your thighs moves higher still until you feel his thumb pressed to your sensitive clit, warm and twitching with anticipation, desire coursing through your veins and dripping from your wet cunt. Your ears barely register that he's speaking, the blood is pumping so hard in your ears, but his words are exalting.

"Look at you, so wet for me." The hand around your wrists tightens just slightly. You are surprised by the extreme control he has over the cool metal fingers, and you almost wish he'd use those on you instead. And then he says, "you like it, don't you, doll, being at my mercy," and you forget all about the arm and decide it doesn't matter what hand presses down with a gentle strength on your clit as long as he doesn't stop. And he doesn't. Doesn't move, doesn't flinch or twitch or falter, just holds steady until your gasping mewls die down just enough for you to say, "yes, all for you, all for you, all..."

With those words, his thumb slips, between your slick folds into your pussy, finding the soft spongy flesh and pressing down again and you cry out with a careening moan that tapers off into a silent sob. He's taking his time, picking you apart, pulling at the laces that bind you together, and undoing them to release the tension he knows you harbor. But what about him? Is it not torture for him?

You breathe in a rough gasp, enough to squeak out a few more words. "I thought we were going too slow for you."

He laughs, he actually laughs, at your words, but relents.

"I hear you, doll."

I hear you. Oh wow. His tongue replaces his finger and you lose all coherence, able only to blubber some iteration of his name as the smooth muscle traces circles around your clit, finally allowing your orgasm to build with a steady contraction in your pelvis. Barnes moans between your legs like he's never tasted chocolate or buttercream or any of those other wondrous flavors and there's only you. And that moan sends you overboard, the vibrations diffusing down your legs and you tremble into your first orgasm. Your first orgasm.

He keeps going, riding out the waves of your high until you're crying that it's too much, James, too much and he pulls his tongue away from your oversensitized clit only to move down your legs. He's working you up again, teasing the smooth skin of your inner thigh with gentle nips and kisses until your body is craving release again, your cunt clenching around nothing but the memory of his mouth. He is deliberate in his ministrations, methodical in the way he must be with his missions. The flood of your first orgasm has dripped steadily down your thigh and he cleans you with his tongue, dragging upward along the sticky trail of your musky release until his tongue makes contact again and he pulls an orgasm from your desperate body once more.

He still hasn't released your arms.

"You know how long I've wanted to do this?" he groans, as you shudder again into the pleasure of his touch. He kisses back up the length of your spine while you twitch under him, his free hand dragging shock wave after shock wave from your cunt. It strikes you that this man is truly 106, not 26 like his body suggests, and you absentmindedly wonder if that's why he's so good at it, that he's had years to practice. And then his cock is pressing against your folds and you forget the notion halfway through thinking it. "You're so good to me doll, so good for opening up for me. Wanna feel your tight pussy around me."

You push backward, or do your best to without the employment of your arms, wanting desperately to feel him inside you. He is warm and all-encompassing and part of you thinks his cock spilling his seed inside of you would complete you like nothing else. But you know that's a bad idea and you can hear him already unwrapping a condom (where did he get that from?) and your body trembles with the anticipation. You haven't even seen him yet but you know he must be big, the way he grunts when the tip of his erection teases your entrance.

When he enters you it isn't gentle like the stroke of his tongue. It splits you open with a rough thrust, the laces of your heart fully undone and releasing you from their confinement. You choke on your own air.

And then he's releasing your arms, and before you can react, Barnes has you lifted, your back to his chest, your knees shoved roughly into the mattress so he can stand and fuck you from behind. The metal arm finds your neck and forces your head back, his lips dragging hot against your soft skin and muttering filthy praise into your ear, his hand gently on your throat to hold you there. Your hands fly to his, not to pull him away, but to convince him to squeeze, just a little bit harder. The pressure is grounding, and then the hand around your waist is trailing toward the bud of your clit and rubbing in urgent circles and you let out a silent gasp as he thrusts into you at a pace astounding for the position you're in.

You come hard, over his hand, around his cock, and for the first time Barnes falters, stunned by the intensity with which you clamp around him and if he hadn't made you come two times already he might have held out a bit longer to pull another one of those stunning orgasms from your slick cunt. But you're sagging, using him to hold you up against the exhaustion of repeated abuse so he releases, riding the wave of pleasure you started. Bucky groans out your name, surprising you with the gentleness of it on his tongue despite the rough hand around your neck.

When he releases you softly back onto the bed, you sink heavily into the mattress, feeling high on pleasure and drunk on his hands. He pulls away and shuffles around the room, and if you had had any energy left you might have complained at the loss of him but as it sits nothing will rouse you from the intense desire to simply fall asleep.

He continues to move about and then... the lights go on? You groan at the harsh treatment of your eyes as they adjust. But Barnes returns and pulls you against him and apologizes for the rude awakening.

"Sorry, doll," he mutters. "Wanted to get a better look at you." His fingers glide along your back and his face nuzzles into the top of your head, breathing into your hair as you press your forehead into his chest. Despite being exhausted himself he trails his hands all over your body, exploring the side of you that has been shoved into the sheets for the better part of the evening. You let him, although your nerves feel fried and oversensitive to touch.

"Watch what you do with those hands," you giggle as his fingertips brush over a nipple, "unless you're ready to go again."

"Already looking forward to next time?"

"You wish," you tease, but already you know for certain that there will be a next time.

#bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes #winter solider fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #winter solider smut #definitely not canon #i refuse to believe steve went back in time for some 1940s kitty kat and left his best friend behind #tony and nat are alive bc they are the only truly valuable characters #sebastian stan #also youre the daughter of agent hill #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #winter soldier #wEiNeR sOlDiEr

[feirceangel]

Imagine | Restaurant (Jean Pierre Polnareff)

Word Count: 854

A/n: gif is not mine! 

~

You're sitting in the restaurant, alone for once.

During the journey to Cairo, you haven't gotten a lot of alone time, something that you're in desperate need of.

It's not that you hate being around Mr. Joestar, Avdol, Kakyoin, Polnareff and Jotaro. In fact, you love the little group you've become good friends with. It's just that occasionally they get on your nerves.

But it's mainly Polnareff who irks you to no end.

He's a helpless flirt, teasing you whenever he can and calling you cute pet names whenever he gets the chance. No one else in the group does that, except for the rare 'sweetheart' from Mr. Joestar.

You're not the only one who is irritated by Polnareff's constant pining. Jotaro, when he reaches his limit, yells at the Frenchman to shut up so that you don't have to.

It's not like you don't like the white haired male, in fact, you think he's rather handsome. When he isn't looking, you often sneakily stare at him because he truly is gorgeous.

Unfortunately, this hasn't gone unnoticed by the others. Namely, Avdol and Joseph. And, they've decided to do something about your obvious crush.

|||||

Polnareff sighs, staring out the window of his hotel room which he shares with Avdol. He can't stop thinking about you. Every chance he gets, he compliments you, gives you gifts and does whatever you ask, and yet you still treat him no different than the others.

Maybe it's because he was under Dio's control and tried to kill all of you? Maybe you haven't forgiven him yet.

Disheartened, he doesn't hear Avdol at first, until he is prodded roughly.

"Polnareff."

"Hm?" He asks, turning. "What is it?"

"You should eat something," Avdol tells him.

He shakes his head, "I'm not hungry."

"You're always hungry."

"Well, not right now!"

A pause of silence.

"Sorry, Avdol. I didn't mean to snap. I'm just frustrated."

"I understand, but an empty stomach doesn't help matters," Avdol insists.

Polnareff stands and exhales slowly before walking to the door, "I'm gonna go to the restaurant, then. You coming?"

He shakes his head, "I've already eaten."

"Suit yourself," the Frenchman quips before heading to the hotel restaurant, not knowing who he's about to run into.

|||||

You think over your predicament. An unbelievably hot man flirts with you constantly and yet you treat him as you would anyone else.

If you were half as bold, you would flirt back. But you're not bold, in fact, you're shy. Scared to express your feelings, you choose to ignore them.

It hasn't gotten you anywhere though.

Heaving a sigh, you sip your water while you await your food. The restaurant is practically empty because of the late hour, resulting in a peaceful getaway.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot him.

Polnareff, adorned one his usual getup, walks without the usual skip in his step. He doesn't notice you, but you take notice of his dismal attitude and feel guilty.

Deciding to do something, you invite him over, "Hey, Polnareff, over here!"

His gaze snaps to you, shocked that you actually acknowledged him during your alone time. He points to himself, asking silently if you have the right guy.

You chuckle and nod, motioning for him to come over. He grins and sits before you at the table for two.

"How are you this fine evening, amoureux?"

Smiling back, you shrug, "I'm a bit tired. All this traveling and fighting is getting on my nerves. What about you?"

"Ah, I'm fine, thanks for your concern," he leans back. "I'm just a bit troubled."

"Oh?" You ask, even though you think you know what he's talking about.

He nods.

You patiently wait for him to elaborate.

"I, well, I really like you, Y/n, and I wish you'd give us a try. I get that you're sick of my flirting, but it's not just flirting. It's more than that," he confesses.

Your eyes widen.

"If you say no, then I'll forget about it, but please just think about it, okay, la cherie?"

His eyes are pleading, hopeful.

The moment has come for you to make a decision. To finally let go of your fear and to embrace your love of the Frenchman.

But shock leaves you speechless as he walks away.

|||||

The next morning comes with overcast skies as everyone packs the car. Everyone except you.

You spent all night thinking about Polnareff, thinking about how to tell him your answer, and now you're ready to execute your plan.

Jotaro smokes moodily as the others wait patiently for you to arrive.

You walk out of the hotel, bag in hand and walk to the vehicle. The bag drops with a thump as you latch onto Polnareff's tight shirt and yank him downwards.

Your lips crash carelessly and passionately against his, catching him off guard. He wastes no time in kissing back, wrapping his arms around you.

Breaking off, you grin widely at his shocked and ecstatic face, "That's my answer, Polly. We're dating now."

He cheers and spins you around, to the bemusement of Avdol and Joseph.

"About time."

#Jean Pierre Polnareff #polnareff x reader #stardust crusaders #xreader #imagine #JJBA #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #reader insert

[violettelueur]

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || LITTLE CAGED ARTIST

| featuring : ryomen sukuna ft. itadori yuji 

| warnings : mention of emotional abuse and murder as well as grammar errors

| form : imagine

| word count : 1691

| published : 22 december

| request : Hello, idk if your request are open but feel free to ignore, but just, imagine another reencarnation au (those imaginw of yours are my favourite) where the reader was a painter and Sukuna's personal favourite so he took her and kinda abused her psycologicaly to the point where she would just draw him and only him and he loved that, and in the future she's still an artist that draws Yuuji bc theyre friends but when she sees the tatoos she again draws Sukuna and he feels guilty for the way he treated her and her art in the pastIf It's angst i would apreciate but it's not really necesary

| barista’s notes : hi there~ i apologies for the extremely long wait for your coffee order but now it is there ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ right now it is nearly 5am in the morning and i have no idea why the hell i am awake, but oh well ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ  DONT WORRY THOUGH! after this, i am going to sleep and rest up since today it is Fushiguro Megumi’s and Kageyama Tobio’s birthday today ʕ≧ᴥ≦ʔ but other than that, i hope you enjoy your order of a cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and i hope you come back soon! ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

“Sukuna….please leave me alone...leave the village alone, I beg of you please,” you whimpered to the man that was standing tall and proud with a sadistic smirk painted on his face, while you were on your knees tightly holding onto his large wrist - somewhat slightly covering the black ring marking - as if your weak physical strength could do anything to stop his raising them up and giving a rain upon hell to the people that was residing in the small town you lived in.

You have no idea how you had managed to catch the attention of the most feared curse to both humans and jujutsu sorcerers nor did you know how you managed to become acquainted with the man in front of you. All you knew right now was that the situation you were in at this current moment and time, was not ideal to anyone at all.

You were just a simple artist. A simple village girl artist that was blessed to be hired by the nobility and aristocracy to paint their family portraits with the finest colours that they would offer you, for you to be then paid so you could provide for your village. However, as luxurious as it sounded, you were in love with the idea of just placing a sharped piece of charcoal on a piece of paper or cloth you could find anywhere and sketch your heart designed.

“Leave you alone?” Sukuna questioned you in his deep voice, before slowly crouching down to become face to face with you. “I could never leave you alone, not when you have caught my attention with your craft little one,” Sukuna then stated, as he gently placed a hand on your cheek before using his thumb to caress the soft skin he was touching. 

Ever since Sukuna had caught sight of you delicately painting a portrait of a noblewoman with such care and gentleness, he couldn’t help but wonder how your hands were so carefully and how patient you were to make sure every stroke was perfect to your desire. Slowly, he began to wonder what it was like to be the subject of one's view. A subject that someone desired to recreate on a simple piece of paper. However, compared to his past sightings, you were the most talented as well as the most beautiful he had ever seen and once he was able to gain a clear view of the noble woman that you were illustration, he was surprised at how much detail you were able to encapture in your work and just like the noble woman’s reaction, they both were extremely happy with the result of the final product.

“How about this?” Sukuna suddenly asked, causing your head to suddenly shot up leading you to meet eye to eye with the King of Curses, “if you come with me and draw me and me only for the rest of time, I would leave this little village alone as well as the people residing in it. How does that sound, little one?”

‘Come with him? Where? Why? What’s going to happen to me?’

“If you don’t accept this deal, every single person here will die. Burned, stabbed, slashed, any way possible I can. Men, women and even little children’s lives will be gone, and it would be all your fault.”

‘My….fault? But-’

“You know I’m not a patient person little one, I might as well start my massacre while you take your time to think, it will be-”

“NO PLEASE! DON’T, YOU CAN TAKE ME, JUST LEAVE THE VILLAGE ALONE, PLEASE!” you screamed in desperation, as you tighten the grip of his wrist that was within your grasp to keep him down, as you didn’t want to risk him getting away from your sights for the safety and protection of the people  within the little town you had lived in since the day your life had started.

With a large cruel grin, Sukuna had somehow managed to pry his wrists free from your tense grip before sliding an arm under your knees as well as an arm around your body lifting you up in a bridal position, while you were just expressing a face of shock and fear, confused and fearful on what you had just accepted in exchange for your life. Where were you going? Was this the end? Were you going to die? How much longer have you had left?

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you, you’re too precious to be slaughtered little one,” Sukuna answered - as if he knew what you were thinking - before placing a ghostly kiss upon your temple leading you to freeze still, petrified on what he would do with you had moved a single inch.

This was your life now. 

A caged artist.

                                               ꕥ

Here you were, sitting on a wooden platform outside with a sharpened piece of charcoal that Sukuna had kindly given you, in order for you to sketch a portrait of him. The second you placed the charcoal upon the paper, Sukuna couldn’t help but stare at the light movements of your hand as you lightly stroke a few lines to create an outline before watching your hand suddenly pause, causing the King of Curses to switch his view from the sheet to you, only to find your look at him with such a frightened look.

“I’m sorry…..I shouldn’t look at you, should I? I apologise deeply,” you softly muttered before quickly turning back to the portrait that was right in front of you - you didn’t want to do anything wrong in his eyes, you knew he could go back on his words and harm the people that you cared about. However, it seemed like Sukuna didn’t care at all, he had managed to trap you into his life and had the power to demand you to draw him every time he would mention he could go back to your little village and burn it to the ground. He relished in the idea of being the subject of your attention.

This is what he wanted. 

His little caged artist.

                                               ꕥ

1000 years later and here you were. 

Here you were sketching a picture of your best-friend Itadori with a picture of him that you had managed to capture on your phone. Itadori first came into your life shortly after you had enrolled into Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Techincal College around the same time as your other classmate Kugisaki did. 

You have no idea what drew you into the boy with the pink hair, but something within you pulled you towards him causing the blooming and somewhat hilarious friendship to start, even causing Fushiguro and Kugisaki to wonder what was going on in your mind to somehow relate to the boy - yet, they didn’t mention their questions since they didn’t really think you knew the answer yourself, and they were correct.

However, as you continued to smoothly glide your pencil across the page, applying different pressures to construct some definitions as well as shadows within the photo you were copying from, you began to suddenly realise that you were starting to draw marking upon his portrait. Markings that were so familiar to the ones the person within him had.

Ever since that day at the Eishu Detention Centre, the sight of Sukuna standing in front of you with his shirt ripped off showcasing his black marking caused a trigger of unknown memories to suddenly flood into your mind, causing excruciating pain that was so unbearable, you thought you were going to pass out from the intense pressure, maybe as even close to dying from the immense pain.

From what you could even recall from the sudden flood of blurry images that appeared in your mind, there was a picture of you drawing with a piece of charcoal with the infamous King of Curses seating right beside you, watching you draw will whispering in your ear the threats that he would bombard you in order for you to make sure that you were only drawing him and him only.

Slowly but in a shaking manner, your drawing hand continued to sketch in Sukuna’s markings that would appear on Itadori’s body as you were somewhat extremely afraid of what the King of Curses could do to you if you didn’t - just how you left 1000 years ago.

Although unknown to you, your best-friend Itadori was standing right behind you, having a clear view of what was happening to you as well as the drawing right in front of him. Seeing your shaking figure with slow but clear teardrops landing on the sketch book as well as the drawing evolving from him to the curse residing inside of him, made him realise how damaging Sukuna was to not only him but also to the people around him. Carefully, Itadori placed a hand over your hand that held the pencil, causing you to flinch before finally noticing that it was your friend that was holding it and not the special grade curse.

Within his Innate Domain, Sukuna also had a clear view on what was happening to you and slowly but strangely began to feel something drop to his stomach with the feeling of his throat closing up at the sight of you slowly breaking down into a small state of insanity. This isn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want his beautiful little one to become lifeless and paranoid like you were now.

Even after 1000 years after your death, your incarnation was carrying the feeling of fear, despair and numbness that you were weighed upon the second you had given your life away to the King of Curses for the sake of your village. Even though you had more freedom then you did then, you still left trapped and lost within the metal cage that Sukuna had enclosed you in. Even with the small hint of guilt that was manifested within the cruel curse’s heart. 

You were trapped with no escape out.

You were trapped forever with no key to open the door that was clearly right in front of you.

Forever his little caged artist.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk ryomen #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagine #ryomen sukuna imagines #sukuna imagines #sukuna imagine #sukuna ryomen imagines #sukuna ryomen imagine

[ddarker-dreams]

Yan Diluc, Childe, Kaeya & Zhongli / Darling Saying “I hate you.”

Warnings: Suggestive themes and typical unhealthy yandere behavior. Note: sometimes in life we just gotta suffer,

Diluc had told himself that this was for your own good.

That’s what gave him the ability to rest at night -- while holding the knowledge of all the freedoms he’s taken from you -- that you are safe. There’s air in your lungs, healthy color to your cheeks, and life shining brightly in your eyes. It’d be selfish to ask for anything more, he would reason. This is good enough, is what he’d think, not fully sure if he believed the creed himself. 

Now he knows those words were but a lie to cover a gaping wound in his heart.

He gazes at you now, his hand reaching out, only to stop when you flinch away. The reality that he tried so desperately to push down has risen to the surface, your turmoil not easily ignored. Diluc needs to remain steadfast as he considers hesitation an insult. Certainly, he is low for holding you here against your will, but it’d be that much worse if he started questioning himself. 

“I know,” is the strained answer he arrives at. You hear the pain in his voice, how the words were all but pried from him. “I’ve always known.” 

“Then why?” You plead, exasperation pushing you past the limit. His head is hung low for once, unable to meet your scrutinizing gaze, instead taking an acute interest in the wooden floorboard beneath his feet. 

It brings him back to his childhood, like a kid being scolded for an illogical grievance against their sibling. Your question strikes deep and close to the heart. His answer comes fast, almost robotic, as if he’s practiced it in the mirror countless times.

“For your safety.”

And so you won’t leave like everyone else has.

Exchanging thinly veiled antagonism behind the guise of banter has always thrilled Childe. This game the two of you play, he wouldn’t change it for the world, deriving too much satisfaction in your flustered reactions. Every day is spent thinking about when he’ll get to see you next, what words might bring out the cutest expressions. 

The manner you deliver the line is frigid and he can’t help but be reminded of  Snezhnaya’s climate. For a fleeting moment, it stings, like snowflakes against bare skin. If there’s anything Childe excels at, it’s warding off the cold. He laughs, once, twice, face illuminated with uncanny elation. 

You watch in disbelief as he treats your honest admission as nothing but a joke. There’s nothing you can think to say to describe the frustration that grows in the depths of your soul, Childe’s response encapsulating exactly why you said it in the first place. Half of you considers leaving him where he stands, but you know better, he’d follow after you relentlessly. A Fatui Harbinger’s ability to spot and track their prey cannot be understated.

When his laughter starts to settle down, he speaks. “So the truth comes out, hm?” 

Childe stalks towards you, sporting a wolf-like grin that sends shivers down your spine, every step you take back not enough to increase the space between you two. Eventually, your back hits the wall. Childe takes advantage of your lack of escape, taking your chin in his hand and placing his arm by your head. At that moment, it’s impossible to ignore the looming height difference, though he leans down to look at you closer.

“Hate me all you want,” he hums, his voice dipping lower with each syllable. “But I’m not going anywhere, ever, so keep that in mind. And who knows?”

Childe winks at you.

“Maybe I have a thing for being degraded.”

To be looked at with suspicion is nothing new to Kaeya. Everyone has their own reasons for doing so, whether it be to his cunning nature creating suspicion, or his country of origin. Though, he admits, your reasoning is far more personal than that. After all, his schemes have sent you into a whirlwind of misfortune. 

Kaeya moves back, observing how your chest rises and falls with each labored breath, the way you refuse to look him in the eye. He’s quietly grateful that your former entangled position didn’t grant you the ability to see his face, as shock undoubtedly must’ve crossed over it. Moment’s later, he’s collected, in control of every twitch and crease of his expression. 

“Hm, while I never excelled in my linguistics tutoring, I think I’m familiar enough with the word hate to draw a different conclusion,” Kaeya nods to your discarded clothes on the floor, to which you flush even brighter than before. “Is that what you’d call this? You were throwing yourself at me just a few seconds ago, y’know.” 

He’s getting under your skin on purpose. You know this, seeing the trap he’s laid out without even trying to hide it, yet still fall for it to defend yourself.

“Where else am I supposed to go, when no one even looks me in the eye anymore?” You challenge, wiping the saliva from your lips with the back of your hand. Kaeya hums, considering your inquiry, fingers rubbing circles into your skin as he does so. The contact makes your mind hazy, being deprived of physical contact having done a toll on you. To come to him for comfort is a blow to your pride.

“Your hand could’ve always helped with that, but you still chose mine.” Kaeya smiles, ducking down to press open-mouthed kisses against your neck. You decide not to honor him with any further response. It feeds into his ego and that’s the last thing you want, so you close your eyes and sigh. 

He pauses for a brief moment, not willing to let it go. “Not that I’m complaining, of course. I’ll always find a way to make time for you.” 

Zhongli places his cup of tea down onto the table, outward reaction schooled and giving nothing away. It’s a pathetic, last-ditch attempt to earn an emotional response, even you know this. From how he whispers archaic prose into your ear about his love and adoration for you, you were expecting at least... something. A frown, furrowed eyebrows, pain in his amber eyes. Anything. 

His visage remains unchanging. You drum your fingers against the table, narrowing your eyes and jutting your bottom lip out. It took you weeks to work up the courage to tell him this! Indignation and embarrassment blossom inside your chest, threatening to suffocate you. Any other time he’s talkative, but for some reason, he’s decided to take some vow of silence now. 

You perk up expectantly when he clears his throat. 

“It was never in the terms of our contract for you to have positive feelings towards me,” Zhongli decides, raising the cup to his lips and blowing. “Though, if I might add, I would personally like it if you did.” 

Maybe it would’ve been better if he stayed silent after all. There’s no validation to be found in his taciturn response, no substance to appease your burning frustration. The word contract sticks out like a sore thumb. Petty as it might be to continue this exchange, you feel vindicated enough to do just that.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe the correct term would be marriage, not contract.”

“Are the two not one and the same? You’ve pledged yourself eternally to be my significant other, in the same way a contract binds two parties together.” Zhongli watches how you slide down into your seat dejectedly. Attempting to start an argument with Zhongli was akin to yelling at a brick wall, you decide.

“Don’t act so proud of yourself for swindling my parents into believing you’re an upstanding person.” 

His lips quirk up for the briefest of moments.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe the term would be negotiating, not swindling.” 

You leave him to eat his breakfast alone. 

#childe #childe x reader #yandere childe x reader #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #diluc x reader #diluc #yandere diluc x reader #kaeya #kaeya x reader #yandere kaeya x reader #yandere kaeya #zhongli x reader #yandere zhongli #yandere zhongli x reader #zhongli #zhongli genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff

[mountswhore]

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 — mason mount

if you have any requests, just ask! i’m all ears. if you wanna know who i write for, check this post.

admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Mason adores everything about you. But to be particular, he adores your compassion. Even before you guys had gotten together, and were just friends of friends at a party, he’d watch you take care of some of his teammates who’d had a little too much to drink. You’d be jumping between getting to know Mason and assisting someone to the bathroom to throw up. It was hard for him to hold back a giggle as he saw you take your heels off, excuse yourself politely and run after a drunken Grealish.

body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Again, he loves everything about you. But if he had to choose, it’d be your eyes. They’re the first things he notices when he comes home from an away game, full to the brim with tears as you shout out how much you missed him. In the middle of a sleepless night, when the outside lighting makes your shiny eyes visible, he’d get lost in them. During a match, whether it be for the National team or Chelsea, the second he is on the pitch he would notice you close to the goal, in perfect view to watch him score. They’re what he looks into just before he kisses you, and he melts watching your eyes as you speak to a friend or family member, seeing them talk with your mouth.

cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Mason’s favourite pastime is cuddling, outside of his career, of course. He’ll get home from training and you’ll be cozied up on the couch, practically inviting him into your warmth. He enjoys the cuddles with you on top of him, your head in his neck and his arms tightly around your back. But he loves laying his head on your stomach, smoothing his hand over your thighs as you massage his shoulders lightly. He loves cuddling you, but he’s a sucker for being cuddled. It’s a trick to get him to doze off pretty quickly, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

He’s a busy man, but when it came down to seeing you and wanting you, he made time. He wanted only the best for you, so it was a fancy restaurant, being driven around in his nice sports car, treating you to whatever you wanted. He’d soon come to realise that both of yours ideal date is ordering a Chinese, playing a few fifa matches, and watching a comedy together.

emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Due to your compassion, you’d often spot when Mason was feeling down, angry, or just upset. So keeping it from you rendered useless. Now, if he’s ever in a shit mood, for any reason, he’ll find you and talk to you about it. You always end up making him feel better too, and giving him a different perspective on it. He couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.

family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

If there was one thing Mason will not shut up about, it’s having children. Even his mates tell him to have a day off. You secretly find it cute, that he’s so ready to become a father and thinks of you as a suitable mother to his children. But Mason knows you’re not ready, with his career at the height it is right now and your age, you think kids aren’t on the cards right now, but you’re definitely wanting a few. Mason is absolutely okay with waiting for you, as he always mentions that there’s nobody else he’d rather do it with.

gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

Mason gets a bit too excited when it comes to your birthday. He’ll go all out on gifts every year, topping the one before, and dotting them around the house in places you don’t look. Like the boot of his car, the electrical cupboard, the back garden shed, he’s thought about it strategically. And his giddy attitude is never something you question, you usually pass it as his excitement for an upcoming match or just that fact it’s your birthday soon. It would take everything in him to keep it a secret, almost spilling a few of your gifts. He’d accidentally asked you to grab his cleats from the boot of his car, immediately stopping you once the door was open. And you were none the wiser.

holding hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

Whenever you’re both out with yours or his family, it is quite a large group, which usually meant a large outing. And being significantly shorter than him, he likes to hold you close. As you walk down a busy street, he won’t let you out of his sight, even if you’re talking to his mum, he’ll hold your hand tightly or have an arm around your shoulder. His family always thought it was cute, questioning why he does it. And he always responds with a joke, to hide his sloppiness. Something like, “she’s too short, can’t let her get lost.”

injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

If you came home through the front door limping, he’d be all over you. Carrying you to the kitchen, observing the injury, calling the shots on what you need to do for the evening. Which usually consists of having a bath, resting in bed, texting him if you needed him. It was adorable, despite it being just a twisted ankle from the gym or something.

But on a serious scale, if you came home bawling your eyes out after an awful encounter, that’s when Mason loses all of his silliness and smiles. He’s cradling you on the floor of the living room, talking over what just happened and how you felt. He wouldn’t leave you for the rest of the evening, always making sure you’re feeling better and giving you tight squeezes before he goes to get you anything.

jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Being an avid tiktok user, you’ve seen quite the pranks on there. And mason not yet having a tiktok, made it perfect to carry these out. You’d often spend hours on the phone with Declan, another avid tiktok user, sending prank ideas back and forth. Mason was quite the gullible person, either that or you were a brilliant actress, so your pranks were always going smoothly. And posting it to tiktok, you’d read through the flood of comments together, laughing about how deflated he looked when you swerved him from a kiss, or how in shock he looked when you told him the tower of Pisa had finally fallen over. It was a laugh you had every day.

kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

It varies. If Mason is tired from training, the kisses would be soft and almost non-existent, it would just be Mason’s face incredibly close to yours and then moving away a few seconds later. In any good moments, he’s always reaching for a kiss. The second he sees you after a win, his lips are on yours and aren’t leaving any time soon. Mason’s favourite type of kiss is the kiss you give him every night. It doesn’t lead anywhere that often. But it’s a deep kiss, it’s saying you love him without actually saying it. It always leaves Mason in a haze, going to bed with a love struck smile on his face.

love (how do they show you they love you?)

Mason shows he loves you in many ways. His love language is acts of service. So waking you up in the morning before work with a tea, bringing you into the shower and washing your hair for you. Attempting to make you breakfast, driving you to work, letting you choose dinner and he pays, driving to the local supermarket if you’re in dire need of something. He couldn’t do this everyday with his schedule, but whenever he could, he did.

memory (favorite memory together?)

By far, his favourite memory of the both of you was your first time at Wembley. You were shaking in your shoes at the amount of people in the stadium, but Mason managed to get you the closest seats to the pitch with your family. It was the game he scored two goals in, rushing straight over to your side and blowing you kisses. You soon settled in to the crowd, cheering with everyone else. He’d rush over at half time, giving you a quick kiss before leaving you again. And Mason brought you back to the changing rooms to meet the team, keeping you close to him at all times.

nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

Mason’s worst fear is losing everything he has now. He’d be happy to admit he has everything he wants in life, an amazing career, a lovely list of family and friends, as well as someone he will soon have as a wife. He’s had a nightmare that he’d lost you before, the police broke the news to him and he woke up crying, holding you close for the rest of the night.

oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

It’s not so much of a thing now, but it definitely still happens. Before you were together, and Mason was still in the wooing stage, every time he spoke to you, he’d stutter. You found it adorable and took your time with him. You’d never rush him or look away bored, you’d just look into his eyes with a small smile and it’d make it worse. He’d trip on all of his words, trying to compliment you or ask you out. Even now, sometimes if you’re looking extra pretty or he’s just in a really lovey mood, he’ll slip up on his speech every now and then.

pet names (what do they like to call you?)

His go to pet names for you were baby, honey, and sweets. They just randomly caught on one day and never disappeared. But they make your stomach do flips every time you hear them.

quality time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Being in your company was enough for him. But it’s the mundane things he loves the most. It’s a weird one, but food shopping. For you, it’s an hour of stress. Manoeuvring past other shoppers, trying to find everything on your list, do your back in as you put everything on the belt, and pack in in record time. But for Mason, he’s following you round in a haze. Like a cartoon character in love. Asking if he can get some stuff, which you always agree to, and seeing you in conversation with random shoppers. Finally getting back to the car with the shopping littered in the boot and back seat, Mason’s hand stays in yours as you rest in the passenger seat.

rhythm (what song reminds you of each other?)

You have a shared song, and Mason vows for it to be your wedding song. Easy by Ella Mai. It’s slow, it’s something you both slow danced to when you were drunk out of your minds in your own living room. The party was over and the song just randomly started playing, a frown on your face as you look up at your boyfriend. It wasn’t his usual taste, which is why it was so random. He told you, “I heard it for the first time the day after I met you. And I thought it was so good. So now it reminds me of you.

secrets (how open are they with you?)

The only thing he keeps from you are your birthday gifts, or big surprises for you. And even then, he’s so eager to just tell you. But he shares even the littlest things with you — like Declan falling over at training, about how he shooed away a bunch of girls when he went to buy dinner. You both trust each other and Mason will tell you every last detail about his day if he could.

time (how long did it take you to get together?)

Mason knew almost instantly you’d be his girlfriend, even joking to Chilly that you’d be his wife someday. And you were an oblivious person, so you were none the wiser to his plays, which is why it took a few months to get together. Mason always comments that if you actually noticed he was flirting, you’d have been together within a few weeks. But now you laugh it off after having been together for so long.

upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He drops everything to help you when you’re upset. A bad day at work, an argument with a friend or family member, or even just a day where the world is against you. He can usually tell by your quiet demeanour, giving him tired answers, and not wanting to cry around him. He’d catch you in the bedroom, flopped onto the bed and huffing. He’d join you, rubbing your back as you go off about your day. He’d listen to it for hours if it meant you were okay, but he’d just run you a bath and tell you he’d be back with dinner shortly.

vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

1000%. He’s the one to tell your family that he’s surprised he bagged you. He’s always saying you’re out of his league, posting you on his Instagram all the time. Showing you off to his friends and family, sending them pictures of the two of you dressed up nice. They all find it adorable — and they know just how much Mason loves you.

warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

It’s on sight. If another man does so much as graze your shoulder, he’ll be on it for you. On the pitch, he’s okay with some confrontation, but anything regarding you, he’s not having it. You’re his and he would beat anyone who questioned it.

Usually, if it’s just a quarrel with a friend, he’ll listen to your side of things and give you some words of encouragement. But if it’s really nasty, he’ll be stepping in and having words. He has a lot of patience, but won’t let you be stood on.

x-ray (how well are they able to read you?)

Like a book, now. But when you were first dating, you hid your emotions well. At least, you thought you did. All it took was one touch from mason, and you were crying like a baby in his arms about your horrible shift. You thought you held up a tough front, but staring up at his eyes, as he looked back at you with concern laced among his features, it told him how you really felt. Now he knows the telltale signs, and he’s there to help.

yes (how would they propose to you?)

Mason thinks about this question a lot. He wonders it in the shower, making you your morning tea, during his downtime at training. He’s even scrolled endlessly through a bunch of rings, asking the opinions of his mum and sister. The question had come up between the two of you, and you’d said how you’d felt about marriage. You wanted it, but big events for a proposal were detested by you.

If it was up to Mase, he’d take you on holiday. Buy you a gorgeous summer dress, take you to the beach and declare his undying love for you. But he’d take a small proposal in bed at 2am, too.

zen (what makes them feel calm?)

As mentioned before, Mason was a sucker for domestic things. Watching you do the shopping as he trails behind you was his idea of spending good time together. But getting home from a long day of training, and smelling whatever dinner you’d concocted for the evening. It was as if your front door was the very gates of Heaven. No matter what happened during the day, the second he smells his dinner and greets you happily, nothing is ruining his mood.

if you guys want me to turn some of these into longer requests, just ask! i’m in the mood to write for mase🥺

#mason mount #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagine #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #chelsea fc

[gojology]

Strawberry Flavored Pocky.

pairing : teen! gojo x gender neutral reader warnings : the big three: unedited, most likely badly written, and some cursing. also there’s like.. graphic imagery that gojo and reader exchange to eachother. it’s just banter though! wordcount : 2273 a/n : for that one anon that wanted teen gojo. my stroke of genius always occurs when im eating strawberry flavored pocky i swear.. anyways yeah this is unfiltered writing n it’s probably like not the best tbh and maybe i didn’t nail teen gojo’s personality but u know what this was so fun to write

     The sound of the tear of the wrapper containing the Pocky you had just bought was music to your ears, crinkling with every touch. Your fingers are itching to grab for the deliciously coated sticks, but you’re stopped by someone none other than Gojo Satoru himself.       “What’d you get?” he inquired, seemingly unbothered by the face you were making, he hadn’t even greeted you with a simple, “Hello.” he sat down on the bench seat right next to you, uninvited.       In his hand were many bags of various sweet treats, you could only make out some familiar ones- ramune flavored gummies, a bag of chips, vibrantly colored candy. Your lips quirk downwards, exhaling, turning to face the setting sun.       “Just some Pocky.” you flatly respond, beginning to pick the biscuit up. Contrary to Gojo’s wide choice of snacks, you only really had one favorite- Pocky. Specifically, Strawberry flavored Pocky. The sweet, yet somewhat tart aftertaste treat dominated your mind almost day and night. It wasn’t everyday that Yaga would be lenient enough to take the four of you to the local convenience store. You were waiting for Shoko and Geto to finish shopping to finally head home for a night of yummy snacking.       Gojo sighs, lazily dropping the treats right next to his side, they sat idly, limply resting on his thigh as he crossed his right leg over his left knee. His hands warmly nestled into his snowy white hair, his elbows jutting into your personal bubble.        “Not one to chat, are you? What’s the problem? You scared?” his tone is teasing, and you jerk your head to face his. Your head is tilted, like your confused, but in reality you’re just astounded how obnoxious he was.       “Why in the world would I be scared of you? You wouldn’t lay a finger on me. Yaga-Senpai would rip your limbs off one by one and fling you into the horizon! And he’s not even that far away, I could report you to him if you even get on my nerves in the slightest.” you shot back, huffing and taking your first bite on the biscuit. You instantly melt.       He flashes you a toothy smile, and you stiffen, did he ever take anything seriously? “Oh my, so riled up. Only scaredy-cats would talk about how not scared they were. Look, you’re even shaking-” he gestures to your just slightly shaking, tightened grip on your Pocky. “-I win, Y/N! Boo hoo, case closed, gimme your Pocky~”        “No, fuck you and your fat ass trying to take my Pocky, I’m not shaking from fear anyways.” you sternly retort, warmth rushing to your cheeks for whatever reason. “I’m shaking because I’m resisting the urge to duct tape your mouth shut and gouge your eyeballs out.”       He chuckles warmly as if your gruesome detailing was humorous, he probably didn’t know you meant it. He too, ripped open one of his snacks. “Calm down, Y/N. I was joking, I could buy Pocky’s whole stock and probably also buy my position up as CEO if I wanted to. I wouldn’t leech off of you, sugar.” readjusting his crooked, circular shades, he looked down at your now slack grip on the wrapper.      Unanswering, you’re grumbling instead. Under your breath, you’re curious as to how Gojo hasn’t realized how obnoxious he was, and how much longer could he survive without his head exploding from how big it was from his inflated ego?      Gojo grinned. He was all too aware of those things, but who really cared?      “Not unless you let your guard down!-” unable to finish the rest of his sentence, he yanked up the wrapper from your hands, using the extent of his long arm to dangle it high above your head. Your reflexes are far too slow to react, causing you to glare at him in a mixture of shock, hatred, and disbelief.      “Give-” you jump, arm reaching towards your snack, but he backs off, snickering and still dangling it above your head. “It-” now you’ve leapt up on the bench, grabbing at the wrapper to no avail. “Back!-” whimpering and flailing your arms out, every time you came close to retrieving your rightfully owned pack of Pocky, he’d simply throw it to his other hand so carelessly it pissed you off. All the while giggling, juggling it like a clown.      A breath of laughter escapes his lips as he looks at you, prancing around like a circus act on the bench, yelling curses and many death-wishes to his clan. Your eyebrows are knitted together, and he can’t just help but realize how adorable you were when concentrated in getting something- so stubborn.    “Okay, okay!” and as if Gojo had flipped a switch, you simmer down, looking at him with an impatient side-eye. “You want it, doggie?”     “Refer to me as doggie, and I’ll send a pack of strays to ravage you.”       Gojo exhaled out of his nose. “You’re a funny one, doggie.” did he just dismiss the conversation you two were having literally 2 seconds prior? “I’ll ask this again, do you want to get your treats back?” his eyes are glinting with amusement and child-like glee. You were almost sure that he had started calling your beloved Pocky as treats because of just how well it suited the nickname Doggie. It looked like you would be getting no where unless you paid no mind to him calling you such a.. Derogatory name.       Grumbling and studying the concrete you were currently trampling on, you exasperatedly sigh.       “Yes. I do want my Pocky back.” you grunt, averting your gaze to anywhere but Gojo’s shoes.       He perks up in approval, drawing out a long, “Hmmm?” as if he hadn’t expected you to give up so easily. “What are the magic words, Y/N?”       This was so humiliating.       “Please?” you politely say through gritted teeth. If it weren’t for the general public bustling about, you would’ve lunged for his unruly hair and tear it out of his scalp.       “Hah! You think I’m gonna do that sorta bullshit?” he crosses his arms, Pocky tucked safely under his arm. You wince, thinking about how the biscuits may potentially be snapped in half. Did you really want your snack still? It probably smelled like Gojo’s armpit sweat, death, and all the bad things in the world combined. “You’re gonna have to earn it, Y/N, in a game.”       Now convinced that Gojo was the manifestation of all the bad karma that you had avoided, you stare at him with wide eyes and fear, the irritation long gone. Games, no, scratch that, literally anything with Gojo only resulted in a small, or maybe large piece of your sanity torn away from you, lost to the infinite dark abyss. Maybe that’s why Geto seemed to slowly go insane everyday.       “On second thought, I’ll just go-”      He cuts you off, alarm now displayed on full view, his face contorting back to neutral. “Wait, no! It won’t be hard. Pinkie promise.” extending a pinkie towards you, you gently slap it away. The mood change was so instant, you were still shocked, that, and he was almost a legal adult and still believed in pinkie promises.      Still hesitant, you quirk an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’d rather spend another two dollars than play whatever game your planning, unless you tell me about it.”      “That’s a given, besides, it won’t take too long, Y/N. I think you’ll like it.” he replies cheerfully, leaning and whisper-yelling into your ear, fruitfully jolting you up. Seriously, did he have any idea what personal space was?      After just a few seconds of thinking, you roll your eyes in defeat. “Okay, what’s this game?”      His incredibly long fingers inserted themselves inside the crinkling wrapper, pulling out a slender stick. You’re almost sure your salivating, and subconsciously swallow the lump at the back of your throat. “Okay, rules of this game are... Hm, we both place our mouths at both ends of the stick. You get the pretzel part because that part sucks.” mischief flickers in his eyes briefly. “Whoever can get down the Pocky longest without being afraid of kissing and pulling back, loses and doesn’t get the Pocky. Whoever stays in their place wins. I’ll throw in some money, deal or no deal?”       “This doesn’t sound.. Fun.” you were still skeptical, but curiosity was blossoming rapidly inside of you. Could you really resist such an intriguing request? The guy was rich, and he did say he’d throw in some money. Gojo probably hated the thought of you, too. You could probably get up and close, get him to cower away from the thought of locking lips with you, and you’d be on your merry way.       “Um, actually, never mind. Let’s do this.” you chirp, the weariness had depleted completely. Besides, Gojo would pester you into doing it anyways, this would effectively save time. The expression on his face was indecipherable, silently wishing to yourself to see his eyes. You wonder if they’re wide open, in shock of your acceptance.       He gently placed the biscuit between your lips, his thumb brushing against it. Your breath hitches, now he’s up close. The shades adorning his handsome features, concealing those vivid blue eyes of his made your heart pace quicken in just seconds, maybe it was because he could see you- and you couldn’t. Your gaze shifts to the tufts of white hair hanging above his forehead. His bangs look lusciously soft, so soft you wonder what it’d be like to ruffle his unruly hair, what did it smell like? What conditioner did he use?     Your cheeks darken, but you hope he doesn’t notice it. This was what people thought of when they saw pretty people up close, it wasn’t like you had a thing for him, he was just attractive, that’s all.      “You look real stupid holding that stick between your teeth and looking at me.” he comments, charmingly smirking as you give him another death glare, unable to speak in fear of dropping the Pocky stick. You could count each individual hair strand he had on top of his head with the amount of time he was taking.      Chomp.     You take the first bite, and you can’t help but realize how much your heart is fluttering about in your chest. Eyelashes fluttering, nerves getting jittery, the exchange was strangely intimate. No kidding, of course it was- if the two of you were adamant and continued to chomp on the stick, it would only end in a kiss. There was no way around it.      He takes a bite too, his lips look curved in a dopey smile, but there’s not a single word traded between the two of you, just tiny, slight nibbles. It would be eons until someone finished, and you were growing impatient by the minute. Quicken the pace. Quicken the fucking pace.     So you did the unthinkable, you quickened the pace.     Taking a large bite, he pauses for a minute- as if to think, before taking an even larger bite. Now, 2/3′s of the original stick is gone. One more large bite, and a kiss would follow suit. Now, you’re sweating bullets, eyes bouncing from him, back down to the microscopic sized Pocky. His lips are so, so close. Soft, plush pink, so glossy you’re inclined to ask what brand of lip gloss he uses. You can hear his breathing grow heavier, why wasn’t he giving up?      The two of you don’t take a single bite, plainly avoiding the objective, the world around you had evaporated into thin air. It’s you, and Gojo Satoru.      You nibbled a little bit more, and then you make up your mind. You’re going to kiss-       Growing chatter grew closer to closer, and you realize Shoko’s monotone and Geto’s lively voice, alongside a very disgruntled Yaga.       “Yeah, she’s pretty hot. I actually liked the movie- Uh...?” the steady rhythm stopped against the concrete. Immediately, you straighten and clear your throat, spitting out the Pocky stick into the nearby grass. Gojo follows suit, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and twirling around. “Oh hey, Geto!-”       “Are we interrupting something? Something.. Important?” Shoko quizzes, struggling to stifle her giggling. A sheepish smile was displayed widely on your face for the world to see, hands behind your back like you were hiding something. Gojo, on the other hand, is facing the other direction, whistling and staring at the now setting sky.       You stutter, cheeks growing even darker. Yaga looks as disgruntled as ever, facepalming and murmuring to himself. Geto looks ecstatic.        “MY MAN!” he beams. “WERE YOU GOING TO-”       “SHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Shoko shushes him in response, turning her head back to the two of you. You looked like you had just seen a ghost. “We thought you hated Gojo, we’re just...” her head is cocked slightly, an understanding expression on her features. “Just surprised, is all.”       Spluttering, you try to explain yourself- but no sound comes out. Your mouth is opening and closing, struggling to find the words.       “I do hate him... I just... He.. Pocky.. He uh...”       “Sheeeeeeeesh! Poor Y/N over here is going through some shock right now!” Gojo muses aloud, he places an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in under his arm. There’s a small, coy grin on his lips. As if he didn’t try kissing you 1 minute ago. “Just ignore them, anyways, what are we having for dinner tonight? I heard there’s a really good KBBQ place down the street that just opened..”      As much as you hate Gojo, his ability to escape anything did come in handy.    Well, maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you were leading on.     You’d go as far as to say.. Maybe you enjoyed some parts of him.      

#gojo satoru #jjk #jjk fic #teen gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #sss trio #gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #jjk gojo satoru #gojo satoru fic #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen fic #gojou satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #anime fic #fanfiction #fic #fanfic #gojo satoru scenario #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you