#i hate the fact he looks so good brooding | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skzdarlings · 3 months

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sharing a bed ; seungmin ; sequel

masterlist.

original one-shot.

pairing: kim seungmin/reader content info: sexual content. enemies2lovers. sequel to sharing a bed one-shot linked above. morning afters. running from feelings. making reader jealous. confrontation with a creep and light violence. sexual content includes blow-jobs, hand jobs, strap-on blowjobs, 69ing, rimming, pegging, light choking. some brat seungmin and sort of brat tamer reader (kinda just likes the brat lol). word count: 7k.

Kim Seungmin, the perpetual thorn in your side and ache in your head, is torturing you.

Not the fun kind of torture, either. You had your fill of that two nights ago when a silly scheme resulted in a horny happenstance and you let yourself get carried away. Your careful control not only slipped, but fell right into the hands of someone you once disliked.

It left you befuddled in the light of the day, when you woke to Seungmin curled around you, his cheek pressing into your bicep and his leg hooked around yours. Not to mention his morning wood digging into your hip. It surfaced memories of the pretty and unexpected piercing you found there, how your idea of this guy was so so wrong. And it made you wonder what else you were wrong about, and all the ways this burgeoning something could go wrong in turn. Your thoughts spiralled.

You were no longer handcuffed, so you slipped out of bed and walked right out the front door. You hoped a walk through the brisk winter morning would help clear your mind. It did, but only momentarily. When you got back to the vacation house and ran into Seungmin, you fumbled. Badly. You meant to be pragmatic but came across dismissive. Something about how last night was the only night. Something about how you were bad at commitments. Something about being better off friends.

Seungmin was silent the whole time, letting you ramble like an idiot. Then his eyes narrowed and he laughed. It was an airy, unpleasant, and derisive sound.

“Trust me,” he said. “We will never be friends.”

“Well, fine,” you said, bristling despite the fact you were the one rejecting him. What did you care if he hated you again? You didn’t. You shouldn’t. “Good.”

It was not good. Saying it left a sour taste in your mouth and a pit in your stomach.

And despite it all, your stupid horny hindbrain did not relent, purring like a kitten when Seungmin gave you a judgemental once-over and scoffed. You could not help but remember the very different noises he made last night, again and again, in your hands and mouth, from your actions and words.

You will never look at him the same way again. You have no idea how to move forward, but you know you can never go back. Pretending nothing happened will not work for once.

It freaks you out. You are usually good at shucking attachments. His cold acceptance should not have hurt. What did you care? This vacation would end and you would go back to your own lives, right? So you let Seungmin shove past you. He ignored you for the rest of the day. When he started an argument later, causing everyone else to groan, you replied like always, but it was half-hearted at best.

Oh god, you think now, rubbing the bridge of your nose, I can’t start thinking with my damn heart.

Emotional attachments and long-term romantic liaisons never turn out well. You cut a dashing figure but your many flaws eventually find their way to the surface. It is not worth the inevitable heartbreak when someone sees under the charming mask to the real you.

Rather than suffer later, you are suffering now, brooding over a beer while doing your damnest to not look across the bar. You know you will not like what you see.

You and your friends only have a couple more nights at the vacation lodge, so you all went down to the nearby resort to drink and dance and enjoy a fun night out.

You are not having any fun, of course. You are sitting on a bar stool, all alone at the counter, in your signature leather jacket as you hunch over your drink and glare at nothing in particular.

Seungmin, on the other hand, is suddenly a dazzling socializer rather than an obnoxious stuck-up jerk like he used to be. You expected him to sit in a corner, making snarky remarks all night, but instead he has been moving from person to person, flirting with anything that breathes.

He is also wearing an obscene pair of jeans. No one else in the friend group seemed to notice, not a single eye so much as twitching in his direction, but you noticed. Oh, yeah, you fucking noticed. The second he came bounding the stairs, swinging on a stupid baggy letterman jacket like the twerpy little prep he is. His dark hair neatly combed, bangs swept off his forehead, brightening his gaze.

The jeans. The stupid fucking jeans. Straight-cut denim that has absolutely no business cupping his ass the way it does. And why does he have such a nice ass anyway? It also has no business looking that way.

Kim Seungmin. What a nightmare.

You take a swig of beer and glare at the wall. You tell yourself not to look at him. He is probably leaning over some equally prissy knob and offering to buy them a glass of milk or whatever people like them drink.

So, no. You will not give him the satisfaction. It is no coincidence that in all the time you have known him, Seungmin has never been flirtatious or promiscuous, but the second you turn him down he is slobbering all over anything that moves.

You will not let him get to you. You will not look at him. You will not react.

Except he is already getting to you. So you look over. You react.

“For fuck’s sake,” you grumble, abandoning your beer and stomping down from your stool.

Seungmin is huddled in a booth with some colossal bitch of a man. You recognize him from the other night, remembering how much time he spent harassing the bar staff. Seungmin doesn’t know that. He might be your enemy – or whatever – but you are not gonna leave the guy with that kind of jerk. And you are not secretly thrilled that you are justified in storming over there, drawing up to the table with all the aggression that has been building inside you.

You slap a hand on the table, bringing their attention to you. Seungmin gives you a once-over, then smiles that stupid smile of his, all boxy and puppyish, like you are the funniest punchline to the funniest joke in the world. There was a time you used to fantasize about swiping that smile off his mouth. You are still thinking about occupying his mouth, just not like that.

“Move along,” you say to the creep.

“Excuse me?”

He is already drunk. You can smell it as much as see it. Seungmin is looking very smug and you start to feel like he picked this guy on purpose.

Seungmin drives you crazy, he really does. One second he is all good boy, the next he is purposefully throwing himself at a creep just to get a rise out of you. You feel like he would take a running leap off the mountainside if he was inclined to a prove a point to someone. He is fearless and ridiculous and you want to hate him. You want him to be the boring two-dimensional snob you thought he was. You have no idea what to do with the complicated man in front of you.

That’s a lie, you think, meeting his gaze. You know exactly what to do with him.

You swear his eyes are twinkling. He slouches back comfortably, arms crossed.

“I told you once,” you say, tearing your gaze from him to look at the creep. “Now move along.”

“Try me.”

The guy was only bothering women and seems uninterested in Seungmin so you suspect he just wants to piss you off, but then he puts a hand on him anyway, grabbing Seungmin by the arm so suddenly that it surprises him.

Before Seungmin can shake him off, you snatch the guy by his wrist and twist. He yelps, struggling to wrestle his arm back from your iron grip. You slam him against the back of the booth.

“Touch him again,” you say, “and I will break your hand. You wanna try me?”

He opens his mouth, no doubt to spew some smelly rejoinder, but you don’t stick around for it. You grab Seungmin by the elbow and yank him out of the booth. You drag him away.

“Excuse me,” Seungmin says, not politely, ripping his arm back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I think I’m saving your dumb ass from getting felt up by every creep on this mountain.”

“Meh-meh-meh,” he mocks, dodging when you reach for him again. “I’m having fun. I don’t need you to do anything. It’s not like you’d really care if something happened to me. Bad,” he smirks, “or good.”

He knows he has you cornered. You might have the physicality over him, but he is holding this entire scene in his hands. You can only rub your jaw and shake your head, trying and failing to remember how to act indifferent.

He has the tiniest drop of cream on his upper lip, leftover from the sugary abomination someone bought him.

You say nothing in reply to his deliberate antagonizing. You plant one hand on your hip and reach for him with the other. When he tries to dodge, you grab him by the shoulder, firmly putting him in place. He does not move the second time, standing still while you wipe a thumb across the sugary residual.

Then you push at his bottom lip, press down, flicking your thumb so it bounces back. His stare is unwavering. He is not the blushing type, but he noticeably swallows.

“Come on,” you say, zipping up your jacket. “We’re leaving. Now.”

“What if I don’t want to?” he asks.

You grab the back of his neck and drag him right up against you.

“I didn’t ask,” you say.

“Friends don’t get to make demands, dumbass,” he says, sneering the word friends. He does not wriggle away, but he does not fully surrender either. He meets your stare head-on, unmoving and unintimidated.

He is going to make you say it. He is not going to let you act sexy and charm your way out of it. He is going to stand in this bar with your hand uselessly holding his neck until you do.

“Fine,” you say. You exhale. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I said all that dumb shit. I’m a moron.”

“Yes,” he says. “You are.”

“I didn’t think it would matter that much anyway.”

“Because you aren’t the romantic type,” he says dryly.

“Because I didn’t think you’d care,” you admit. “You don’t like me and we don’t get along anyway. I just—” You finally drop your hand, waving at nothing and looking away. You can feel him glaring at you. “Look, I suck, I get it. Believe me, I know all the ways I suck. I figured I’d spare us the mess when you figured that out so I just walked away while it was still good.”

“You’re an even bigger idiot than I thought,” he says. He is still frowning at you. “I already know how much you suck. It was the first thing I noticed, you arrogant, womanizing ass.”

“Hey now…”

“You’re vulgar and loud and, for someone without a dick, you think with it constantly.”

“I… don’t…” You do.

“And for some reason even though you are the biggest idiot and the worst person I have ever met,” he says, still glaring, “I still like something about you. Because even though you’re determined to not let anyone see your good side, unfortunately you have one. Even though it’s buried so deep you have to walk into hell to find it.”

It did not really occur to you that Seungmin has already seen your worst qualities. Because you did not get along, you never felt a need to hide those attributes. Inadvertently, you have been more open and honest with this annoyingly handsome brat than anyone else you have ever known.

You cannot help the smile tugging at your lips. Seungmin rolls his eyes.

“You’re hopeless,” he says, shaking his head as he shoves past you. “Take me home, idiot, before I come to my senses.”

You turn to follow him, only to get bopped on the nose when he shoves a pointed finger in your face.

“If you even think about acting like a moron in the morning,” he says, “I will kill you and make it look like an accident.”

You draw a cross over your heart and nod. He huffs in aggravation, turning on his heel and stomping outside.

“You’re the worst,” he says. He swings open the door and stomps into the snowy night, seemingly unbothered by the fluffy bits of snow swirling around his face. He just swings up his hood and marches through the downy white carpet. “You better make this worth my while,” he says.

Your eyes are on his ass in those jeans, thinking about how you very much will be making it worth his while. You look up when he keeps grumbling to himself, a marked sign he is maybe more nervous than he is letting on. You remember his stubbornness before his eventual acquiescence, the way he hid his face at his most vulnerable moments.

You might be in the habit of ducking out the door, but he deflects just as much with his wit.

You hurry your pace, catching up to him. He is still muttering to himself, head down, a soft layer of snow dusting his jacket and hood. It must be all over your head but you hardly feel the cold. Your mind is on warmth, that stupid heart of yours suddenly flooded with it.

You want this to be good for him, even if he would never outright ask for you to be kind. It is all the more reason to make sure you are. You really were such an idiot.

Your grip is firm but not rough, hand curling protectively over his shoulder. This touch invites more than demands.

He stops in place, looking at you with a wary glare. It disappears when you swoop in. His hood falls as you tug him close. He goes without protest, lips parting under yours with a claiming so heated that the cold does not stand a chance against you.

You try to keep it romantic, a rare act of restraint on your part, but the supposed good boy drags the zipper of your coat down, down, down, then grabs your belt and tugs. You stumble, uncharacteristically shaky, gasping against his lips when he grinds his knuckles against the zip of your jeans.

“Tsk,” he says, lips still brushing yours. “Not prepared.”

“I was planning on sitting around feeling sorry for myself,” you say, with a helpless laugh despite his teasing. You grab his wandering hand, leading it away from your crotch. You are eternally grateful your dick is the kind you can leave in your sock drawer, because resisting him right now would have been impossible otherwise.

“Trust me,” you say. “I’ll make up for it.”

“Fine,” he says. “I will. You better not let me down.” He looks at you when he says this, as close to imploring as Seungmin ever does.

You feel the weight of that trust. You nod, swallowing, looking at his lips, full and pink from the hard press of your kiss. You lean in for more when he abruptly zips your coat again, all the way up to your chin so he smacks your jaw.

“Come on then,” he says with that mean little laugh as he scampers away, grinning at you. “Are you gonna prove it or not?”

It is a short drive back to the cabin, and a torturous one to boot. Not because Seungmin touches you, but because he doesn’t, and he won’t let you touch him either. You try to put a hand on his knee but every attempt is rebuffed. All you get is that cheeky grin or a glare, then a mere flick of his wrist as he brushes you away like lint.

Somehow it is more maddening than a direct touch. You can feel him everywhere just by his proximity. He even jumps out of the car before you unbuckle your seatbelt. He is inside the cabin before you reach the door.

You are panting from the sprint up the driveway, trying to keep up, not entirely convinced he won’t play you for a sucker and run right out the back door. It would be like Seungmin to make you chase him up the mountainside. You wouldn’t blame him for making you prove yourself, considering what an ass you were.

But he is waiting inside the cabin. Everyone else is out for the night and should be gone for hours. When you close the door, sealing out the cold and the world, this cabin feels flush with more heat than you know what to do with.

You do not hesitate. The tantalizing promise of more is like a touch on its own, heightened by his stubborn refusal to give you anything easily. It makes catching him that much more satisfying, that soft sound all the sweeter when you pull him into your arms and finally steal that kiss.

His skin is cool from the weather but his mouth is warm, the kiss searing hot. He digs his blunt nails into the arms of your jacket, pressing the whole length of his hard body against yours.

You remember his unexpectedly tender places, how just a faint stroke behind his ear will have him curling into you, how looping some hair around your fingers and tugging will deepen the rumbling sound that spills past his lips.

You unzip his coat while kissing, licking into him while he scrambles to help strip. The coat hits the floor in a damp heap. You separate for just a moment, giving him the chance to tug his hoodie up and off. You toss your own jacket over the nearby couch, then hook your fingers into his belt loops and pull him close.

His hair is in an endearing state of dishevelment and he looks flushed from the rush of warmth after the chill. Just looking at him like this has you throbbing. You try to imagine telling the old you that you would feel that way, that the annoying friend-of-a-friend who mutually hated your guts would be looking at you like he wants to devour you and let you return the favour.

You can’t imagine believing it. Now it feels completely natural, letting him walk you backwards until your back hits the wall and his chest is pressed to yours, rising and falling with the quickness of his breath.

He is looking aside, contemplatively. You cup his jaw and draw him back to you, unable to resist a breathless laugh when he nips at your fingers. You do not shy away or let go, and that seems to placate him. He practically melts against you, your hand curving around the shape of his cheek, lowering to curl gently around the side of his neck.

“We should go upstairs,” you say. The stairs are right beside you, but somehow the bedroom seems too far.

Impossibly, ridiculously far, when Seungmin flicks some hair out of his eyes and looks at you intensely.

“Don’t you want me on my knees?” he asks.

Your response is not a real word, just a rough sound. He smirks, but is still flushed and a little shaky as he sinks onto his knees. He gets your belt open, tugs it free, and tosses it to the side. The sight of him licking his lips has you seeing stars before he even leans in.

You brush some of his hair back, looking down at his face as he focusses on unzipping your jeans. He has the fly down when you catch your breath and your senses.

You gather the hair at his nape in your fist and tug, firm and sharp. His mouth falls open and his breath stutters, eyes so dark and lips so wet and plush that you are tempted to drive his face right between your legs, where is obviously offering to be.

But that’s not how you want to do this, not yet. You move from his hair to his neck, wrapping your hand around his throat and watching his eyelashes flutter with surprise. There is always a breath of panic in that surprise, adrenaline fueling the flood of desire that follows. He is visibly hard, straining in those sinful jeans, breathing harder as you none-too-nicely push him down onto the stairs.

“What are you doing,” he says, though it sounds like less like a question than acceptance. Continue, waving his hand like a prince on silk sheets even though he is sprawled on his back on the staircase.

“Making it worth your while,” you say. He is not wearing a belt because these jeans are made for his body, snug and perfect and fitted everywhere, so it is just a matter of unbuttoning—

Oof.

He plants his foot on your chest like last time, pushing you back. He blinks innocently.

“Shoes first,” he says.

You smile, though it less playful than predatory, a promise in the flash of your teeth. You nonetheless obey his silly whim as you tug off one shoe than the other. It leaves a damp patch on your shirt which he remarks on. You roll your eyes but tug your shirt off, sports bra following.

The second time you push him down, you are even less nice. You gather his hands in yours and pin them above his head, holding him there when he squirms ineffectively.

“You’re kind of a brat,” you say, yanking his zipper down. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

“You,” he says, panting around the word. “Jerk.”

You laugh, then cover his mouth with yours, swallowing the moan that takes him by surprise. His hips buck towards you when you reach into those jeans to take him in hand. He wriggles in your hold, arms straining while his hips lift toward you for more, following the snapping rhythm of your hand. You trace the dick piercings that caught you by surprise last time, the metal smooth under your rolling thumb.

You only release him when you duck down, tasting for yourself, relishing in the sounds that spill out of him. He claws at your bare shoulder, spreading his legs to make room for you to lay between them. His head falls back, resting on the step above while you work him in your mouth.

“I’m—I’m—” His voice gets lighter, breathier, his orgasm hitting him all at once. He throws an arm over his face instinctively, head thrown back, hips lifting. It catches you by surprise, making you choke just a bit, but he is already coming so you ride it out.

He is still twitching when he finishes, gasping behind his arm when you roll a thumb around his piercing again. When he hisses, knees jerking, you let go.

Knowing him better than you ever thought you would, you move, stretching out alongside him. You tug him into your arms and he goes without hesitation, burying his face in your neck. You snake a hand under his shirt, stroking his back affectionately.

Once more, you are genuinely endeavouring to be sweet.

Once more, he shoves his hand down your pants.

“Hello—” It is all you manage before he is touching you, finding all that wet desire and rubbing a little haphazardly. It makes you laugh and you grab his wrist, slowing him down. “Easy,” you say, showing him a better pace. “Just like that is good.”

He learns quickly. It was the same last time. Every idea you introduced, he contemplated, experimented, then excelled. With just a nudge now, he skillfully obliges. He is breathing hard against your throat, pressed so close to your whole body, his fingers finding all your secrets and working them out. You slide a hand down his backside, squeezing a handful of his ass. The sound he makes has you coming faster than usual.

He puts his hand on your thigh, then lifts his head and grins at you.

“I’m still winning,” he says.

“It’s still not a contest,” you reply, quirking an eyebrow.

“It is,” he says. “And I’m winning.”

“I see.”

You scoop him into your arms and cart him up the stairs. He situates himself by the time you reach the bedroom, legs around your waist and arms around your shoulder.

“Still winning?” you ask.

“Obviously,” he replies.

You shake your head and sigh but with no real animosity, just like his smirk is more playful than vicious. You still whole-heartedly believe he is capable of catching you off guard, so you are prepared for the brat switch to flip at the slightest provocation.

You drop him onto the bed with a gentle thump, then cross your arms and look down at him.

“Can I leave you unsupervised for two minutes while I get my dick?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he says, blinking innocently. “Can you?”

“Probably not,” you say, but retreat nonetheless. Your equipment is in your travel bag. You left it behind when you went to the bar because you were not in the mood for a hook-up, which should have been the first sign you were hopeless. You were already in waters far too deep when you tried reaching for that shitty life preserver. Learning to swim is not easy but infinitely more rewarding.

You change into packing boxers and tuck your toy into it, buttoning up the pocket. You grab some lube and a towel, then walk back to his bedroom, certain that he has somehow caused trouble in the five minutes it took to do all that.

He’d naked. Of course he is. Sitting where you left him, perched on the edge of the bed, but his clothes are folded in a pile on the dresser and he has nothing but a bedsheet pulled over his lap. He is not wearing his usual cheeky expression, though, and you are about to ask if something is wrong. Then he says, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Oh,” you say. “That’s fine.” It is the unthinking response, automatic as the admission is not too surprising. You live in a world where strap-ons and gender games are the norm, so sometimes you forget that most people consider it inherently kinky or an anomaly. A lot of men are new to it. Seungmin didn’t even know what was packing was when you first mentioned it.

But then he says, “Any of it.”

And you say, “Huh?”

“I’ve never done,” he says slowly, “any of this.”

“Any.”

It takes a long minute to compute. You think about his clumsy touches and experiments followed by his quick learning. Unabashed and unjudgmental regardless of what he encountered. Testing and figuring himself out just as much as you.

“Oh,” you say. Then, “Oh. Fucking shit. I’m such an asshole.”

Because that was his first time doing anything with someone, and you just walked out the door without a word the next morning.

He does not look upset about it anymore. In fact, he laughs, though he tries to hold it back. It turns into a snort he barely catches, amused eyes gazing up at you.

“Yeah,” he says. “You are. We already knew that.”

“I really, I just—”

“Can you shut up and come take my virginity before I get beatified for involuntary chastity?”

“But you’re so fucking hot,” you blurt.

It is obviously not the retort he anticipated, because he blushes profusely, which is not the response you expected.

He clears his throat and looks away, rolling his eyes to compensate for the obvious vulnerability.

“Thanks,” he says. “Stating the obvious. I’m also picky. And apparently I scare people.”

“Scare them?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow. “Who’d be scared of you?”

“Evidently not you,” he says. His tone is snarky but he looks at you, up and down, and the look is a thoughtful one. “Not ever.”

Agh. There’s that heart again, pounding away. Who knew that thing could race so fast.

“Well,” you say, finally putting the bottle and towel on the bedside table. “That is their loss. Not everyone is built for chasing luxury, I guess.”

“Luxury,” he says with another snort, grinning despite himself. “I’m high-end,” he says it like a fact, not a question.

“Naturally,” you say, approaching where he is sitting.

“I’m going to be honest,” he says, eyes wandering your body before landing on your face. “I thought you were going to be weird and egotistical about being with a virgin.”

It suddenly pings in your head that you are his first, that there is a certain responsibility that comes with that. That the wrong person could make this terrible for him. That you want to make sure it feels better than anything he could dream. These thoughts are completely and truly unselfish.

And there is one admittedly egotistical and selfish thought, of making him irrevocably yours with one really good fuck.

He glares when he sees the look on your face, his lips pursed, though a breath of a laugh escapes nonetheless.

“Wow!” he says. “You’re a pig, go away.”

“No, no, I’m not, I swear!” you say, laughing.

He laughs too but shakes his head, pushing you away when you reach for him. “No way,” he says. “You and your ego. Gross.”

“Please, I promise,” you say, getting on your knees and lacing your hands together like a praying supplicant. “I’ll be so normal,” you say. “I have no ego at all.”

“You’re the worst,” he says dryly.

“Yeah, but…” You wiggle your eyebrows at him. “You kinda like me anyway, right?”

It is a more vulnerable question than you thought it would be. It prompts him to look at you, really look at you, before he huffs and rolls his eyes.

“Unfortunately,” he says.

You giggle and he swats your head.

“Are we just going to sit here all night and look at each other?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“No, no, of course not,” you say. You get back on your feet, standing bedside so you are looming over him.

“What are we doing then?” he asks.

“Well, you know what we’re doing,” you say, laughing when he rolls his eyes and huffs again.

You reach out, cupping his face in both your hands and guiding him to look up at you. Your heartbeat hammers away not only in your chest but everywhere else, a rapid current of heat that thunders most prominently between your legs as shiny dark eyes gaze up at you amorously from such a suggestive vantage.

“First, before anything else, this.” You speak in a lower voice, watching his spine straighten as the sound. You run your thumb across his bottom lip like you did earlier, except this time it is a bruised pink from kissing. It really makes you feel like that extra weight in your boxers is coming to life, connected to you intimately, ready and wanting as you are. Especially when you tug on that bottom lip, when he leans towards your hand like he needs it, needs you.

“Now,” you say. “Now I want you on your knees.”

There is a sharp intake of breath before he nods, subtly, then shifts. The sheets falls away from his lap, revealing he is already half-hard again. There are goosebumps along his skin, from his nudity and the chill or just anticipation.

Last time, he needed almost no direction. He followed his own instinct, logically deducing that the part of the toy you could feel was the part at the base, closest to your body. He uses his usual deductions when unbuttoning your boxers, taking a second to first press the base of the toy against you before leaning back and opening his mouth.

It is not easy to come like this, but you are so worked up that it might happen. It does not matter if you do. It is not always about chasing the perfect orgasm. This time, it is touch and sensuality. He lets you teach him, rather than stampeding like last time. You wonder if his heart is pounding given how red the tips of his ears are, blood rushing everywhere in a hurry. You hold his face and slide back and forth, taking your time getting wet, both yourself and the toy, pushing him a little further each time.

When his mouth is full and he blinks slowly, contently, every bratty remark and combative tone far from his mind, you smile and tug his hair. He moans and you push a little more, gliding back and forward again.

“You’re a fast learner,” you say. “Bet you could get used to this.”

It is a testing tease, to great success if the returned moan is anything to go by. He squeezes his eyes shut and starts touching himself, finally moving his head instead of letting you guide him. Before he gets too lost in the rhythm, you ease him back. You smile and rub your thumb across his shiny lips as he blinks up at you.

“Come here,” you say, and kiss him.

He falls into the kiss, arms wrapping around you as you lay down with him. He is eager in the searching heat of the kiss, long and deep and hungry. You get on your back and pull him on top of you, give him one more drawn-out kiss with a filthy wet lick into his mouth, then smile.

“Turn around,” you say. “Keep going.”

It takes him a second to work out what you mean, but he really is a fast learner. Soon he is laying on top of you, face where it was before, mouth wrapping around the end of your dick and his fingers searching beneath it to stroke you directly.

You snatch the lube off the table and wet your fingers then him, taking it slow and easy, using your mouth and spit then more lube until everything is slippery and he gives in so easily into you. He is breathing hard down between your legs, resting his cheek on your thigh and no longer using his mouth on you. His eyes are closed and his hips are rocking, focussed on the sensations that you are certain are overwhelming him.

You move him around, at which point he comes to attention, looking back at you. This is the quietest he has ever been, all the action in his heart as you expected; you can feel it racing when you touch his chest.

You lay him down in front of you, sidling up behind him. You lay a hand on the wildly fluttering race of his pulse, throat cupped in your palm. You turn his face to kiss him, your wet hand stroking your wet dick. You probably should have thrown that towel down before getting started. The sheets are a mess already.

“Ugh, hurry up,” he says, reaching back to smack your thigh. “You’re the worst. I hate you.”

You laugh. Oh well. No time to worry about bedsheets. You give his throat a gentle squeeze and smile at the noise he makes, strained and needy, his hips rearing back into you.

“What?” you ask, sliding the toy down his backside. “You want something?”

“I will bury you in the mountain pass,” he says. “They’ll think it was a skiing accident. And that you got mauled by a bear. And eaten by wolves. And—”

To be honest, having him distracted and rambling is for the best. It means he is more relaxed, not so focussed when you finally start pushing in. Of course, he feels it pretty fast, and instinctively rebels. You stop clutching his throat and hold an arm across his chest instead, holding him protectively and kissing that sweet spot behind his ear. His groaning turns into a whine.

“Okay?” you ask.

“Gonna kill you,” he says.

“That a yes?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” You hook a hand under his leg and pull it up, giving yourself leverage, then fuck into him completely. His whine turns to a sharp yelp, hand scrabbling against the arm on his chest. You let him catch his breath and adjust. “Still okay?”

“It’s weird,” he says.

“Bad weird?”

“No,” he says. “It’s… it’s good. It’s just…” You move a little and his whole body clenches then loosens. He makes a strangled noise but softens in your arms, though his nails have dug a pretty picture into your skin. You are surprised he hasn’t drawn blood. “Ugh,” he says. “It’s so wet. I feel like a river rafting ride.”

“Not… what most people usually say… but okay…”

“I’m… not… most people.”

“No,” you say, kissing that spot again and finally moving your hips. “You’re not.”

You are not sure if his little sound of submission is in response to your actions or your words, but with it he seems to all at once open to you. You find a rhythm, holding his hand when his fingers search for yours on his chest. He ends up biting your arm, which you should have seen coming, but it’s fine because you leave a visible bite mark on his neck in return.

At that he gets into it, meeting the pace you set, altering it to what he wants. It is a good thing the house is empty because you are not quiet at all. If your fooling around was enough to send an aggravated Minho storming after you, then this probably would have led to him burning the cabin down.

The thought makes you snicker, which makes Seungmin ask what is so funny, so you tell him then he laughs too.

“Ugh, stop making me laugh,” he says.

“You can laugh while making love,” you say, kissing his neck. “It’s okay.”

That does not make him laugh but it does make him sigh. “Making love, huh,” he says dryly. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“It didn’t,” you say, finding another sweet spot that has his whole body rearing into yours. “I guess I’m a fast learner too.”

“Ew, you’re so annoying,” he says, but squeezes your fingers in his hand.

“I think you’re not getting fucked right if you’re still this bratty,” you say playfully, prompting him to roll his eyes.

“What are you gonna do about it? Make love at me? Sap.”

You laugh, kiss his neck, then move away to roll him onto his back. He wriggles a bit, surprised with the change and sudden emptiness. His legs part easily when you move between them, but you still snap, “Spread. Good.” Because it makes him swallow hard, his dark eyes sparkling and his mouth bruised, hair mussed and body flushed. He is already a fucked out sight, but he wants more, and you give it.

You snap your hips together and fuck into him. This time you do hold his throat, gently, not repressing air but showing control. He holds your forearm with both hands, his face scrunching up, eyes closed as he focusses in that intense way of his. He breathes hard, makes sweet sounds, and not a single antagonistic or bratty word leaves his pretty mouth.

“I think I’m finally winning,” you tease, to which he just makes a hiccupping sound of pleasure. “Yeah, that’s right.”

You hold his ridiculously pretty dick and give it the expert treatment it deserves. The combination of sensations has him throwing his head back, clawing your arm as you work him in your head. You cannot feel the end of the toy, but there is a magic in this kind of fucking, and when he comes and he clutches your arm and he screams your name, when the muscles in his abdomen clench and you know he is feeling sensation in every part of his body, you can feel him wrapped around you, wholly and completely, like you could feel him when he wasn’t even touching you at all.

He writhes almost desperately as you keep touching him until he can’t take it anymore, then you ease him down and pull back.

“Good?” you ask, sitting back, looking down at him, blissfully fucked out and dishevelled.

“Yes,” he murmurs. “I won. Again.”

“Gonna need to supply me with that rubric one of these days,” you say.

“Meh-meh-meh,” is the half-hearted retort, delving to a sleepy sigh.

“Gotta take care of yourself before you go to sleep,” you say, though you have a feeling it’s a losing battle, his eyelids already heavy.

“That’s what you’re for,” he grumbles.

That damn heart really does have a mind of its own. It has clearly decided to make its presence known whenever it damn well pleases.

You run your fingers through his messy hair, smiling when he blinks up at you.

You tidy him up then scoop him into your arms to carry him to your bed, because that one is not a filthy sex nest. He wakes a little on the journey. And when you lay down and pull a sheet up, he rolls towards you and throws an arm and a leg around you, pinning you to the bed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say. “I promise.”

“Good,” he says. “You’re too stupid to be out there on your own.”

You laugh in spite of yourself, shaking your head, but you put an arm around him and nod.

“You’re right,” you say.

“Of course I am.” He snuggles in close and sighs. “Now go the fuck to sleep. Your dick is in the sink so you have no excuse. Good night.”

“Good night,” you say with a laugh.

I think I won too, you almost say, but decide let him believe he is the only winner for now, because he is already falling asleep with his head on your shoulder.

You can tell him in the morning.

#kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin smut #skz smut #skz x reader

671 notes · View notes

literaryavenger · 5 months

Text

I love you and I hate it

Summary: Bucky's your best friend, but you're in love with him. Now that he has a girlfriend, will you be able to get a handle on your feelings?

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Bucky being a bit of an ass. Reader being dramatic. Angst. Language maybe. Minimal use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.7K

A/N: this is a two part because otherwise it was too long. Hope you like it! also, it's 4:30am and I can't help myself lol.

Masterlist

Loving your best friend is not something anyone ever plans. Getting those kinds of feelings for the person closest to you changes the way you look at them, the way you interact and essentially your relationship with them, making everything unnecessarily complicated.

At least that’s how you see it.

You definitely didn't think something like that could ever happen to you. But to be fair, you also never thought Bucky Barnes would ever become your best friend at the compound.

When you first arrived as the newest avengers recruit the brooding supersoldier was not your biggest fan. Things didn’t start on the best note for you two.

- 2 years ago -

Steve was showing you around the compound and introducing you to people and team members as you met them. You arrived at the common room where Bucky and Sam were watching Tv. "Hey guys. This is Y/N, the new recruit I told you about," Steve introduced you "this is Sam." he said to you as Sam got up from the couch putting out his hand.

"Nice to meet you." he said.

"You too," you said, shaking his hand "it’s so exciting to be here and meet all of you. You are all such remarkable people."

"Oh, complimenting me? I like you already." Sam said chuckling.

"Of course you do." Steve said, rolling his eyes with a smile, then turned to you "and this is Bucky" he said, pointing at the brunette still sitting on the couch.

"Hi Bucky, it’s nice to meet you too." you said, getting closer to him and holding out your hand for him to shake. Bucky, however, just looked at you for a moment before standing up, turning away from you and walking out of the room without saying a word.

"Uh... did I do something wrong?" you asked, very much confused, still looking at the door Bucky just ran out of.

"No, it’s always him." said Sam.

"Sam, don’t." Steve told him, then turned to you again "don’t mind Bucky, he’s not good with new people. It’s nothing personal, he’ll get used to it, don’t worry."

"Right. He’ll get used to me." you said as he gave you an apologetic look "yeah… anyway, let’s finish the tour."

"Sure, bye Sam. See you around, I guess." you told Sam with a smile.

"Yeah, see you guys at dinner." and with that you left to finish the tour of the compound that ultimately ended with your assigned room.

"So this is your room, Natasha has the room on the right and Sam has the one on the left." he pointed at them as he talked and then pointed at the room across from yours "that's Bucky, to his right is Peter and mine is to his left."

"A lot of neighbors, got it." you said chuckling with Steve.

"Yeah. So I’ll let you get settled and I’ll see you at dinner with the team." he said.

"Yeah, see you later."

If you were honest with yourself, you were a little disappointed at how meeting Bucky went, you were really looking forward to meeting the super soldier.

While all the other girls were busy crushin on Captain America, you always felt more attracted to Sergeant Barnes.

Something about him just made you curious, and, after all the Winter Soldier stuff came to light, you were one of the few people that saw right away that Bucky was a victim.

You never did understand how people could read all the details of what happened to him and still call him a monster, like it was his fault that he was captured, tortured and made to do things no decent human being would ever do.

In fact, you got in trouble more than one time for fighting when things escalated while you were defending the super soldier from agents that didn’t see it like you.

It’s really a shame that a lot of agents of Shield itself thought so ill of the Sergeant. Maybe that’s why he didn’t like you, maybe he thought you were one of them.

You had to make sure he knew you weren’t.

Having made up your mind, you decided there was no better time like the present. You crossed the hall and knocked on his door, and after a few moments he opened.

"I know, Steve, don-" he interrupted himself the second he laid eyes on you.

"Sorry, not Steve. Clearly. I’m sorry to bother you, Sergeant Barnes, I just wanted to let you know that I don’t have anything against you. I know some agents feel like you should be held accountable for the things you were forced to do, and they’re not really afraid to get vocal about it, but I’m not one of them. I don’t think any of it was your fault. It may not matter much to you, after all you don’t seem to like me very much, but it’s important to me that you know this. You’re kind of my hero." you finished, a little embarrassed at admitting this to his face. He looked at you for a few moments and, just as you thought he was about to slam the door in your face, he grinned.

"I’m your hero, doll?" he asked, leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed in a way that made his biceps look huge and a smirk on his face.

After that you and Bucky became quick friends, spending more and more time together. Missions, training, down time, you were practically attached at the hip.

You were always careful not to let any feelings grow other than friendship and, mostly, it was easy.

There were some times where you somehow ended up flirting, but they were fleeting moments that passed as quickly as they came, and you decided, for your own peace of mind, to not overthink them and let it go every time.

Now, back to the present, the reason why you’re lost in your thoughts and feelings for Bucky.

You’re watching from a distance as Bucky smiles and laughs, happier than you’ve ever seen him surrounded by his friends, more relaxed than he’s ever been during a party.

You smile at his happiness, glad that he’s finally comfortable around pretty much everybody, but your face falls pretty fast as you see him wrap his right arm around her.

You’ve known Sharon for a while now, she was one of the agents in the list for the spot in the Avengers before you got it. You always felt like she resented you for it, like she should’ve been the one to get it because she was already close with some of the members of the team.

She was never openly hostile with you, but you did notice her hanging around Bucky more and more in the last few months. You didn’t think anything of it, but you were proved wrong just half an hour ago when Bucky started to introduce her to the avengers she didn’t already know as his girlfriend.

As soon as that word came out of his mouth, so casually you’d think he'd been saying it his whole life, you felt like you were gonna throw up.

It took all your skills to keep your face as neutral as possible, you felt like Sharon’s eyes were on you the whole time, trying to see every micro expression she could find to know what you were thinking.

But you were probably just imagining that, right?

You excused yourself as soon as you could and went straight to the bar to get the strongest drink Nat could make, which she handed to you with a knowing look while glancing behind you.

You barely had time to think before you felt his hand on your shoulder, feeling his body next to you but you didn't turn to look at him, taking a sip of your drink instead.

"Hey, doll, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Sharon before, it’s still pretty new."

You tried to keep your voice as cheery as you normally would around him. "Why would you? It’s your relationship, why are you apologizing?"

He gave you a weird look you'd never seen before, before saying "Because we’re best friends? We usually tell each other everything… right?" he sounded a bit uncertain.

"Yeah, right, duh." you said, trying to give a genuine laugh "Well, it’s alright anyway, now I know! Stop worrying, just go be with her."

He looked around your face for a few more moments, like he was looking for something, before he said "ok, then." and left.

You managed to keep the smile on your face until you were sure he was gone, but dropped it as soon as you looked back ahead of you.

Taking another sip of your drink and making a face at how much alcohol was actually in it, you looked at Nat and, nodding, you left before she could comment on the scene you’re sure she just watched in its entirety.

So here you are now, in a corner watching people enjoy themselves, just like you used to do at parties with Bucky by your side, except you’re alone.

You try to look on the bright side, you really are, but you can find none.

You can't talk about it with anyone either since nobody knows about your feelings for the super soldier, except for Natasha who always seems to know everything, but you aren't too close with her and neither of you ever actually spoke about it out loud.

Not that you would've, you aren't the most outgoing person, usually keeping your feelings and most of your thoughts to yourself, with the exception of Bucky.

With him talking seems like the easiest thing in the world, it doesn't matter about what. He knows almost everything that he could possibly know about you, the only thing that you could never bring yourself to talk about is your feelings for him.

You feel a hand in the low of your back and, just as you're bringing your fist up, you realize it's just Steve. "Easy there, tiger." he chuckled, lowering your arm for you. "You seem a little on edge. Everything okay?"

"Everything’s just fine, Captain. You can salute your way to someone else now." His laugh makes you smile against your will.

"Okay, rookie, you don’t wanna talk about it." you roll your eyes at the old nickname, but he keep going, "you know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a party without your moping buddy."

You glance at Bucky, who's busy laughing it up with Clint and Laura, his arm still around Sharon. Your eyes find Steve’s again, and you simply shrug. "We’re allowed to do our own thing, aren’t we?"

"Of course you are... I was just wondering why you weren’t with him, that’s all."

You avoid his eyes while you quietly say, "he already has someone at his side tonight, doesn’t need me there."

"What’s that supposed to mean?" comes a voice from behind you.

Damn. The one moment you weren’t looking at him and he sneaks up on you.

You turn around and see him standing there, arms crossed in front of his chest, Sharon at his side with a smug look on her face that you convince yourself you’re just imagining.

"What’s what supposed to mean?" You try playing dumb, but you know Bucky can see right through that.

He raises an eyebrow at you expectantly but when you just shrug and give him your best confused look, he sighs and looks at Sharon. "Hey babe, can you get me a scotch from the bar? I’ll meet you there."

You don't know if you're more hurt at him calling her that or relieved at the fact that he didn’t use the nickname that was usually reserved for you.

She just nods and, without taking her eyes off of you, gives him a kiss on the lips. Okay, you definitely didn’t imagine that. As soon as she’s far enough, Bucky turns back to you.

"What’s wrong with you tonight?" He asks sharply.

"Excuse me? Who said there was something wrong with me?" You say defensively.

"Oh come on doll, you’ve been weird ever since Sharon got here. What’s the matter, do you not like her or something?"

You don't know what to say. You certainly aren't about to tell your best friend that the reason you don’t like his new girlfriend is because you have feelings for him. That’s not gonna end well for anybody. So you decide to just keep on denying.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bucky, so why don’t you just go after you little girlfriend and enjoy your night with her."

"That, right there." he points at your face in a very accusatory manner. "What the fuck was that?"

"What was what?" you’re starting to raise your voice a little and swatting at his hand, getting annoyed at him for not letting this go.

"You’re being a jerk about Sharon, what is your problem with her?"

"I don’t have a problem with her!"

"Yes, you do!"

"Why are you trying to make this into a problem?!"

"Because I know you!" At this point you're both yelling.

"Well, clearly, you don’t know me as well as you think you do!" Lie.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?! Just tell me what the hell is your problem!"

"Why do you care so much? Even if I had a problem, it’s my business, it’s not like I’m your girlfriend!" Bucky just looks at you with a face you’d never seen on him before and you can't decipher.

The whole room seems to go quiet as you two just look at each other for a few moments, then Bucky finally speaks.

"You’re right." he says, in a much quieter voice than a second before -you’re not my girlfriend. I just thought you were my friend. Guess I was wrong. I’ll go after my little girlfriend now."

You can't find it in you to say anything and, when you just look at him, he scoffs and turns around to make his way to the bar.

Slowly it feels like everyone else starts to go back to what they were doing before your yelling match stopped the party in its tracks, but you feel like you can't breath, let alone move, as you watch the spot where Bucky was standing just moments ago, tears starting to form in your eyes.

You can’t believe that just happened. Did Bucky really just say you aren’t his friend?

A hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality and you hear Steve saying "are you okay?" from next to you.

In all honesty, you forgot he was even there.

All that comes out of you is a broken sob before you turn around and make a run for the elevator, as fast as you can run in heels and a floor-length cocktail dress.

Steve runs after you, but there are too many people around that slow him down, and by the time he gets to the elevator the doors had just closed.

He waits to see where you would stop, assuming your shared floor but you never know. His eyebrows furrow in confusion and he pushes the button of the elevator, glad that he waited a second more.

When he gets to the roof it's so dark outside that it takes a second before he find you, and once he does he slowly gets close to you.

What he was not expecting was to find you sitting on the ground, hugging your knees and crying.

Steve sits down next to you and puts his arm around your shoulders wordlessly while you cry.

After you calmed down a bit he says "He’s really worried about you, Y/N. If there’s something going on, you should just tell him. He’ll understand…"

You think about it for a few minutes while you find a way to tell Steve what's going on.

"How do you tell someone that the reason you’re sad is because you love them?" you say with tears starting to form again in your eyes.

Steve can only stare at you, at a loss for words.

You hear something behind you and when you turn you see Bucky’s back, walking towards the elevator.

It doesn’t matter how long he was there for, he obviously heard you.

You look back at Steve that has an apologetic look on his face, confirming your fear. Damn super soldier hearing.

Well, it looks like your friendship with Bucky is officially dead.

Part 2

584 notes · View notes

mrsriddles-blog · 1 month

Text

Mania | T.N

Pairing: Theodore Nott X Slytherin Fem Reader

WC: 5.5k+

Warnings/Notes: Mild language, slow-burn, drugs...

Summary: In which you are Theodore Nott's mania...

“Mattheo Riddle…Tom Riddle and Y/n Riddle…hm, I believe this is the first time I’ve had all three Riddle’s in my class this year at once. It’s good of you to finally show up for your lessons, triplets.” Professor Umbridge says.

“We are more than happy to grace you with our presence.” Mattheo says cheekily.

“I don’t believe I asked for your input.” She says, looking over him once.

“I don’t believe we asked for yours.” Mattheo says.

“Matt.” Tom warns quietly.

“That’s it, detention! All three of you.” She snaps.

“I didn’t say anything! I was trying to shut him up!” Tom snaps annoyed.

“Mr. Riddle, would you like to make that two days of detention?” She asks.

Tom clenches his jaw, glowering at her as he chooses silence. His gaze slips over to Mattheo who smiles lazily at him. You were already working on your assignment from her. You pause, feeling a presence near you as a shadow casts over your parchment.

“I’m surprised you’ve got nothing to say Ms. Riddle.” She says.

You slowly look up, looking at her blankly. She smiles as if she were delighted that you had no reaction, nor no words. She reaches out, grabs your wrist and looks at the scars on your hand from her punishment.

“If only you Riddle’s could learn to behave.” She tsks.

“She hasn’t even said anything!” Draco defends.

“Malfoy, would you also like to join the Riddle’s in detention?” She asks and he stays silent.

Everyone shifted uncomfortably as the air shifted. You pull your wrist free from her, immediately wringing your hands together as Mattheo puts a hand on your shoulder.

“You need to calm down. Everyone is feeling your magic.” He mutters.

That didn’t help your case. In fact, it made you feel more anxious, so you stood and packed up your stuff before leaving the classroom quickly. You knew you were going to be in loads of trouble because of your father, but it didn’t quite matter to you.

“Skipping Umbridge’s class, too?” Theodore asks, standing at the top of the Astronomy Tower, smoking.

“My magic started to get the best of me. It made the room get that uncomfortable feel and I couldn’t control it, so I left. And I got detention for Mattheo’s smart mouth.” You mumble, standing next to him.

“Sounds like Mattheo, but Umbridge also holds a grudge against you and your brothers simply for who your father is.” He says.

“I know, but it’s exhausting. We share one last name, and suddenly I’m hated and feared. I may share the same views, but I don’t agree with the way things have been handled.” You sigh.

You relax as he throws his arm over your shoulder. You allow yourself to lean into his warmth more, the chilly air beginning to affect you.

You always found yourself comfortable in Theodore’s presence. Yes, he was the dark, gloomy, brooding bad boy everyone warns you away from, but you found solace in his presence. Unbeknownst to you, you were the sunshine in Theodore’s life. Anytime you walked in a room, those gloomy looming clouds parted and allowed him to bask in your light.

Theodore was quiet, understanding, methodical, logical, and calm. His presence soothed you more than you’d like to admit. You were quiet, but one wrong word being said could set your fiery tongue ablaze. No one could ever reign you back, no one, but Theodore Nott. The moment he’d whisper in your ear or rest a hand on the small of your back always sent you quiet. It was like a wave of tranquility washing over you.

“Y/n! What were you thinking? Now you're going to be kept longer.” Mattheo hissed as he stormed into the room with your friends and Tom not far behind.

“I needed to leave. My magic was making you all uncomfortable and it didn’t help with you telling me to calm down. I knew I needed to calm down, I don’t need you adding to that stress.” You say, pulling free from Theodore’s comfortable hold as you step towards your seething brother.

“We don’t have the time for this nonsense! Father has given us our respected duties.” He snaps, pointing a finger at you.

“Nonsense? Are you trying to twist the blame on me once more? We are in this mess because you’ve got no self-control! And father can take those duties and shove them up his ass!” You exclaim, the room buzzing with your magic.

Mattheo feels a shock in the air between the two of you, causing him to take several steps back. You were the only one to develop magic like this which happened to be otherworldly. It was known to be chaos magic, something that didn’t have much research behind it.

“You can’t say things like that! He’ll find out!” He snaps.

“Let him. I’m tired of us hiding behind him like cowards!” You snap.

Your eyes flickered to a glowing green, something they hadn’t ever done before as you began to levitate slightly—another thing you hadn’t ever done.

Your father loved and hated your magic. He loved that it was his child who possessed such rare and unique abilities. But, he hated it because it meant you were stronger than him. So, anytime your magic began to go haywire because of your emotions, he’d be quick to lock you away so you could reign it in. You’ve never gotten a chance to experiment with your powers to see what you were capable of.

“Y/n/n, you need to calm down.” Mattheo warns, putting his hands up in surrender.

Your heart aches seeing the fear in his eyes. You see his hand inching to his wand and your lip trembles, tilting your head slightly as your eyes well with tears. You glance around the room to see your friends inching behind your brothers, fear on their faces. Tom steps up next to Mattheo, nudging him behind him as he shakily points his wand at you.

“Expelliarmus!” Theodore shouts, standing in front of you.

He catches Tom’s wand, glaring at the group.

“She is your bloody sister! Our friends! She wouldn’t hurt you even if she wanted to! Can’t you see you both are hurting her! In fact, all of you are.” He snaps.

Your feet touch the ground as your eyes flicker back to normal. Theodore turns to you. He steps forward, but you step back as you slowly shake your head.

“P-Please don’t…I d-don’t want to hurt you.” You whisper.

“You won’t hurt me, love. Come here.” He murmurs.

You don’t move as he slowly steps towards you like you were a timid doe. His arms wrap around you, his hand cradling your head as he inhales deeply as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Your arms slowly wind around his waist, your hands shaking.

“I-I didn’t mean to.” You whisper.

“Darling, you didn’t do nothin’ wrong. You’ve never gotten the chance to know your magic and we know that. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.” He murmurs.

You were quiet, your shaky hands fisting the back of his shirt. He kisses your clothed shoulder, ignorant to your brothers’ anger towards him touching you. But, they knew that you were upset with them now. It was Theodore out of your friends and brothers who defended you.

You slowly pull away, stepping back.

“I wanna leave, Teddy.” You whisper.

“Come on, love.” He murmurs, gently grabbing your hand as he shields you from your brothers and friends as he guides you elsewhere.

“Where is she, Nott? She is our bloody sister.” Tom seethes.

“You guys really don’t see what you guys did to her, do you?” He asks, laughing sarcastically as your friend group quiets,

“What?” Mattheo asks, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, she is a Riddle. But, she is by far the most empathetic, caring, and loving one of you all. She hides it well, yes, and when you all acted as if she were some…monster, you hurt her. You broke one of the most compassionate, loving, and caring hearts you could break. She loves each and every one of you deeply. You all are her family, yet you all had to be fools. She doesn’t know what she is capable of. She feels as if it’s a curse. I think it makes her unique and that she could do some amazing things if she were allowed to test her powers out. You all owe her an apology. Even then, I don’t think it’ll be enough. She is so scared of hurting somebody. Dumbledore is now aware of her magic as she has locked herself away in her room and won’t come out. He’s been trying to help her understand it while getting her work for her classes.” Theodore explains, his cheeks flushed red with anger.

It was silent amongst the friends and her brothers. He stood there a moment before leaving to let them let that settle. Maybe they’ll feel guilty, or maybe they’ll feel nothing. But, it deserved to be said.

“Y/n/n?” Theodore asks, surprised.

“I decided hiding away wasn’t doing me any good. It just allowed me more time to overthink. I’m going to try going to all my classes today.” You say softly.

You were sitting on the windows ledge, kicking your feet back and forth. It did make Theodore’s heart rate pick up, because one wrong move, you’d be plummeting to the ground.

“I’ll be fine, Teddy.” You say softly.

“Huh?” He asks.

“I learned I can read minds and memories with my magic.” You say.

He smiles, happy to see you growing more comfortable with your abilities now that it’s no secret with the Headmaster who was more than happy to help you learn what abilities you possessed and what you could do.

You climb off the ledge, walking to Theodore before the two of you made it your guys’ first class. You take a seat, ignoring Umbridge’s prying eyes.

“Nice of you to join us, Ms. Riddle. I honestly hoped you had left Hogwarts.” She said.

You chose silence, focusing on the board. You had always lived in silence before, so why change that now? It wouldn’t get you anywhere. Simply glancing into her mind allowed you to see her next move and you were left unfazed as her hands slammed on your desk as she was in front of you.

“Answer me, Ms. Riddle. Haven’t you heard it’s impolite to ignore your professors?” She asks.

“Sorry, Professor Umbridge, I’m unsure of what I am answering.” You say.

“Where have you been?” She asks.

“Ill.” You reply shortly.

“You would’ve been fine within a few days. It’s been six weeks.” She snaps.

“If you’d like, you can owl Headmaster Dumbledore. He was a great help as he helped me recover.” You answer.

The doors open and in walk your brothers, but your gaze never leaves Umbridge’s. She scoffs, looking offended and you question what you had done.

“That’s it. Write lines. Write, “I will not give attitude.”” She snaps, throwing the quill a pad of paper on your desk.

You stare at it, not wanting to write lines. You don’t want the nasty scars it leaves behind. You faintly heard her scolding you and demanding you write lines.

“What exactly is she writing lines for, Professor, if you don’t mind me asking?” Mattheo asks, trying his hardest to sound polite.

“Literally nothing.” Theodore mutters from behind you.

“What was that, Mr. Nott?” Umbridge asks.

“Professor, may I go to the matron? I feel unwell.” You murmur.

“Write your lines first.” She snaps.

You reach a hand out for the quill, trying to suppress the shakiness as you grab it. You take a breath in before letting it out as you begin to write, allowing your magic to inflict it upon her instead of you.

She gasps, lifting her hand to see the words your writing appear on her hand. She storms over to you, snatching the quill. You roll your eyes up to hers, feigning confusion.

“What did you do? You insolent brat!” She shouts, shaking her hand to wave out the pain which did nothing.

“Nothing, ma’am. What happened?” You ask.

The class gets up, you not realizing how much time had passed as they left. Your friends and brothers stayed seated.

“Leave! Besides you Ms. Riddle.” She seethes.

“Nope.” Mattheo says, popping the p.

“Crucio!” She shouts.

You gasp as Tom pushes Mattheo out of the way, taking the hit. He falls to the ground, his jaw clenched. You fall to your knees beside him, your eyes watery.

“T-Tom? Hold on.” You whisper.

You cry out, fall to your side as her next spell hit you. Sectumsempra.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Draco shouts.

Your eyes turn green as a wave of green leaves you. You close your eyes, squeezing them shut as you fight for control.

“Guys! It’s going to be okay. Pansy and Enz ran to get Professor Snape. Blaise and Draco ran for Headmaster Dumbledore. Just…just hold on, please.” Mattheo pleads, take one of your hands, and one of Tom’s.

His eyes were watering, seeing his older brother by minutes and baby sister by minutes in so much pain.

“Tom, you idiot. Why’d you do that? And Y/n/n…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you. I never meant to do that. I love you so much and I couldn’t have asked for anyone else as a sister. I love you so much.” He says.

You feel a wave of tiredness wash over you as you continue to lose more blood. Your eyes flutter open, only to close again as you pass out. Tom was trying to sit up, only to be pushed down by Mattheo.

“Stay still.” He scolds.

“Y/n/n…check.” He grits out.

Mattheo turns to you, realizing your hand had gone limp in his. He shakes you urgently as fears of you dying filled his head. You let a little whimper of pain out which allowed him to feel calmer and to stop shaking you.

“Alright, move away so that we can help them.” Dumbledore says, hurrying in.

“I c-can’t leave them. They need me.” Mattheo says.

“We got him.” Theodore says quietly.

“Go.” Tom grits out.

“No! I’m not leaving you both!” He snaps.

Theodore, Blaise, and Enzo somehow managed to drag him out, Pansy and Draco following after in case they needed back-up in getting Mattheo back to the Common Room.

“You both are weak.” Voldemort says.

After your “mother”, Bellatrix, received a letter of what happened, a meeting was summoned. Your friends stared down at the table, along with their parents as they felt they were intruding. Tom and you were to stand, looking at him.

“Father, it was my fault.” You say, ignoring Tom’s sharp glare at you.

“Thomas!” Your father warns, in which Tom focuses his eyes back on his father with a clenched jaw.

“Father, please. It was me. She was angry with me and the boys simply stepped in to protect me. It was my fault. Please do not punish Tom or Mattheo. This is all my fault. I deserve to be punished.” You say.

“Mattheo is the only one whose name didn’t pop up in the letter. He is excused from this. But, Tom and you are not.” He says.

He points his wand, speaking, “Crucio!”. Your hands flew out, a green ward appearing around Tom as the spell bounced off of it. You used your other hand to hit the spell that now headed towards your father.

“You dare defy me?” He asks lowly, standing slowly as his eyes seem to turn redder.

“I said he had no part in this, but you choose to ignore what I had to say!” You snap, your own eyes turning green in anger.

He falters, his eyes changing to ones of surprise before he raises his wand.

“I would feel terrible about having to kill my own child, but it’s evident you’ve been experimenting with your powers. If you continue to stand up to me and be a threat to me, I’ll have no other option than to kill you.” He speaks.

“Don’t lie, father. You’d feel absolutely nothing. But, what if I did this? I reverse all your work?” You ask.

“Don’t you dare!” He shouts.

You clench your jaw as you flay your arms out as green lights up the room. You watch your father drop his wand as you levitate him. You continue to search his mind for all the objects that were horcruxes before your magic reached out to retrieve it and piece his soul back together. He yells and curses at you, but you aren’t affected.

The green light disperses as you lower your father who had a sharp jawline, blue eyes that matched Tom and yours. He was tall and lanky, but you could tell it only meant he was toned. His brown hair was carefully styled. He looks at his hands before turning to a mirror and staring at himself. He spins back towards you, storming towards you.

“What the hell did you do to me!” He shouts.

“You are no longer immortal. You are mortal. I could…however…make you immortal in a different way. But, I’m questioning if you even deserve that respect, father. You’ve treated your children like shit since they could walk. You’ve tortured us. You don’t care, nor love us. You are as much of a monster and a coward as some of the muggle’s I hear about with their children.” You seethe, walking towards him as he slowly backs up.

“I do love you three! And I care about you! You wouldn’t know a damn thing because you're so naive!” He shouts.

You decide to peek into his mind. You become humbled as some twisted part of him has loved and cared for you…but this new him allows him to express it normally and you can tell he is confused with the feelings. He’s scared.

“I’m not naive…you’ve done well hiding your true feelings towards us our entire life. Horcrux and disembodied you allowed you to experience love and care, yet those were warped. You had a very screwed up way of showing it. But, this way will allow us to see how you truly feel towards us.” You say, motioning to him.

“I want to be immortal, Y/n. I have plans I must go through with.” He says.

You turn, taking a seat and resting your chin on your hand as you look back at him.

“I’d be more than happy to make you immortal again. A spell I made and might I add that it works perfectly, no risks. But, I have one little thing I don’t want to happen. You’ve cowered behind your followers for far too long, father. A true leader leads the war. Not to mention, you have children involved. You’re willing to go to war with innocent children who may lose their lives. They’ve only ever heard what their parents said and they are far too young to even begin to think of what they truly believe. This against you adults. It doesn’t involve us. Nor, the children attending Hogwarts.” You say.

“You kids are far more talented and excelled.” He says.

“Father…I don’t see the point of this war. You’re a half-blood…which makes Tom, Mattheo and I half-bloods as well. You’re deeming it your right to lead a war for a pure-blood world, but what about us? How does it make it fair?” You ask.

“Because we aren’t like the other half-bloods and mud-bloods. We are far more powerful than them…smarter than them, stronger than them. Look at you for example. You possess abilities that no one else can. You possess magic that is otherworldly. Tom is much like me who can use wandless magic and see into the minds of even our most challenging opponents. Mattheo, he is much like your guy’s mother—the magical way—as she possessed ancient magic and as does Mattheo. Mattheo and Tom remind me of myself when I was younger just from the way they act. But, you…you remind me so much of your mother.” He says, managing a small smile at me.

You were unsure what to say, thrown off by what a mood change he just had. You also found yourself wanting to ask him questions of your mother whom you’ve never gotten the chance to meet as she died in childbirth.

“Meeting will be prolonged for now. You may go to the living room for now. I want a moment with my children.” Your father says.

People soon filed out of the room, Enzo being the one to close the doors with hesitancy. You shoot a smile his way and nod, seeing that he looked much more relieved to close the doors. Mattheo was still sitting where he had been, but Tom took a seat across from you.

“What was she like…our mom?” You ask.

“Your mother was…beautiful…you much look like her aside from the eyes. Mattheo got her eyes. Tom, you have her nose and lips. But, most importantly…you all share her big heart and her logical mind. She too didn’t see my views on why I wanted to go to war. She despised it unless I could truly find the reason behind it. There never was a reason besides I wanted a pureblood world. But, her and I…I never knew what love was until your mother. I believed I was incapable of loving or feeling in general until your mother walked up to me with one of her perfect, soft smiles. She was bold, fearless, and so smart. That was the side everyone got to see. But, as she and I grew closer…I got to see how big her heart was for her friends and family, just like yours Y/n/n…and to see how much she cared.” He says, his eyes faraway as he thought of your mother.

“How were you both after graduating?” You ask.

“We were perfect. We spent the next two or three decades madly in love when I had decided to move forth with my plans. By then, my old friend Abraxas had a little boy, Lucius. I watched my friends have children, but my friends died. It was their children I began to seek forth on the war. As they began to choose to have children, I realized how quiet your mother had gotten. She always watched. I asked about it one day naturally only to learn that she too wanted children. So, we began to try, which didn’t take long till she found out she was pregnant with you three. I would do anything to go back to the day to see that smile.” He says, smiling sadly.

“If you don’t mind…I could reflect on your memory so we could all see.” You say and he nods.

Naturally, he had been thinking about the day, so when you tapped his temple, it didn’t take long to find it. Soon, the four of you were quietly staring at your mother. It was a little snippet, her smile that was indeed much like yours, her brown eyes lighted with so much joy and love as she held a pregnancy stick up.

“I was unaware that your mother had a bleeding disorder. The pregnancy went well and when her water broke, we were ecstatic. I’ll admit I was rather nervous, but she couldn’t wait to get out the door and to the hospital to have you. She was so excited. They did the c-section, she got to hold the three of you. She cried as she said how beautiful you three were. She said you were going to be triple the trouble. She whispered how much she loved you and that one day she’d see you again. I was confused, but she managed to kiss each of your heads before the nurses were taking you away with solemn looks. She knew she was going to die. The entire pregnancy, she knew. She knew she’d die or live. She agreed to one horcrux—me, to live immortally. The other half of her joined me that night when she didn’t make it out of the room.” He says, swallowing hard.

“That’s who I felt when I pieced your soul back together.” You whisper.

“You felt her? I feel her sometimes…used to I could talk to her and she’d speak back. She’s grown silent though and I feared that she was gone.” He admits.

“She’s there, her soul is growing weaker though. She wasn’t meant to live through you, but her own vessel…I…” You say, trailing off.

“What?” He asks.

“She has a spell to resurrect the dead as well. She is the child who has dabbled in muggle magic that never went anywhere, but she takes it somewhere. She made the three of us immortal with her immortal spell, feelings intact. She did give us each a way to die if we ever got tired of being immortal. If we decided we wanted to move forth and meet in another life.” Tom explains.

“Your mother use to make spells too…she spent the years we were in Hogwarts and up until you three were born trying to create a spell on immortality. She hated that I had gone through with horcruxes and was sure she’d be able to reverse it and give us a safer option for immortality…yet here you are and you did it sooner than your mother had been able to. You remind me so much of your mother.” He says, looking at you.

It was silent as you all looked at the memory of your mother who was so joyous finding out she was pregnant. You find yourself thinking she is the most beautiful woman you have ever seen.

“I have a question.” Your father says.

“What's up?” Mattheo asks, trying to find a way to be less awkward around your guys’ father.

“Why does Theodore look at Y/n all the time?” He asks.

You look up confused, your brothers sharing an uncomfortable look as they looked almost defeated. Tom sighs and motions Mattheo on. Mattheo sighs.

“I didn’t tell you, Y/n/n, you just found out, okay? Theodore…he has had a crush or in your words, fancied Y/n/n since first year. He’s always been a bit scared to tell her as he would rather have her as a friend than not have her at all.” Mattheo explains.

You tilt your head in curiosity as you wonder why that never stood out to you. You had always fancied him, but you never assumed he’d feel anything back.

“I don’t quite know how to explain what it is I’m feeling…like…I love Y/n/n…I want to see her happy, but I don’t know how I feel about a boy fancying her.” Your father says.

“It's when you feel protective over someone. I’m sure you felt it often with mom.” Mattheo explains.

“I did…I was always embarrassed to ask her about the different feelings I would experience.” He admits.

“I’ll need her bones, some ingredients, but most importantly, I’ll be needing to carefully retract her soul from you dad…this part could hurt.” You say, turning to your father.

“That’s okay.” He admits.

“Is this it, my lord?” Lucius.

You, as much as you hated it, had a crowd who was rather intrigued by your magic and ability to create spells. You were slightly disturbed with your mothers remains being in the same room as you, but you knew it was necessary.

“Yes.” He murmurs, walking further into the room and sitting in the chair across from your mothers casket.

You place the metal bowl between the two as you start to add the ingredients in, you pause turning to your father as you strap him to the chair. He grimaces, realizing he may have misinterpreted how bad this would hurt, but he couldn’t complain. He wanted nothing more than the woman he loved back.

You raise your hands, having to clench your jaw of your fathers strangled groans and pained grunts as you pull your mothers soul free of him. You lowered it to the bowl, taking a match and lighting the bowl.

A wave of light fills the room, and you walk to the casket to see your mother there in the flesh and blood. You hear Tom helping your father free of restraints as you hold a hand out for your mother.

“Y/n/n?” She murmurs.

“Y-You recognize me?” You whisper as she fully stands.

“How could I not? You’ve turned out to be such a beautiful young woman…oh Mattheo…Tom, my boys. You three come here.” She whispers.

The embrace of your mother was something you realized you hadn’t needed so much. Her love, care, and warmth was what filled those missing parts in you—all, but one, but that was Theodore’s spot.

“You’re so pretty.” You murmur.

“Oh, love. Thank you, but it is you who is the prettiest girl to be seen.” She murmurs.

She holds you three tight for minutes, before leaving a long kiss on each of your heads before hesitantly letting you go. She looks at your guys’ father with watery eyes.

“I can’t say I haven’t missed you because I have. But, I still don’t agree with your views and how you’ve treated our children. But, when Y/n/n looked into your mind and pointed out that you had always loved and cared for them, it was just warped…I understood. But, I do believe the horcruxes played an effect. If the kids are okay with it, I’d love for all of us to start a clean slate.” She says.

Your father nods, his own eyes watery. You turn to look at your brothers to see them looking at you as your parents turn to you three. Mattheo does a little nod, and you turn to Tom. You could see his hesitance, but once he sees your encouraging smile, he does a little nod himself. You turn to your parents, nodding at them. They pull the three of you in a hug.

“What are you doing all alone out here, Teddy?” You ask, wearing a silvery dress that glitters.

Your makeup and jewelry was dark and green per-usual. He was in a tux, his tie terribly tied as he didn’t know how to. He had a cigarette in his mouth as he takes you in.

“Everyone is dancing and doing sappy stuff. Your brothers even had dates.” He says quietly.

You step forward, lifting your hands as you fix his tie. You look into his soft, yet intense eyes and smile.

“Teddy, would you like to dance with me?” You ask.

“R-Really?” He asks surprised.

“I only ask guys I like to dance, Teddy, so…would you?” You ask, holding your hand out to him.

“You like me?” He asks, taking your hand.

“More than you know, Teddy.” You say, smiling softly at him before you were gently dragging him to the dance floor.

A slow song comes on as you both start to sway. You requested this and then a waltz song next before letting the music officiant go back to their list. You saw your father and mother happily dancing as they whispered lovingly to each other. Mattheo was dancing with Astoria as Tom danced with a girl who was a year below you all. You periodically saw your friends amongst the dancing couples as they too danced.

“Love?” Theodore murmurs.

“Hm?” You hum, your eyes clashing with his.

“You like me in a more than friend way…right?” He asks, his eyes flickering over your shoulder out of nerves.

“That was what I meant, silly. Do you like me in a more than friend way?” You ask.

“Yes! I have for a long time…since first year, but I was just…I was so scared I’d lose you because you didn’t feel that way. I was everywhere…protecting you, and keeping guys away. You infiltrated my mind every waking moment of mine…you are my mania.” He says.

“Oh Teddy, I’ve liked you since first year too. I wish I would’ve said something sooner, but all is okay. We’ve told each other now.” You say, smiling softly.

“Since you were so bold earlier, let me return that…would you be my girlfriend?” He asks.

“Nothing would make me happier, Teddy.” You murmur, leaning up as he leans down to kiss you softly.

“Hey!” Tom, Mattheo and your father shout.

You both pull apart with soft laughter as you both look over to see them giving you both stern looks, your brothers’ dates trying to get them to leave you alone as your mother reigns your father in. You turn back to Theodore, a soft smile on your face.

“I love you, Teddy.” You murmur.

“I love you too, Y/n/n.” He whispers as the music shifts to waltz music and he groans as you grin mischievously.

It was then that he knew this was your doing, but he smiled goofily as he wouldn’t have this any other way.

#harry potter universe #masterlist #slytherin #hp fandom #angst #theodore nott #slytherin x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x slytherin!reader #theodore nott x y/n #mrsriddles-blogunhinged #mrsriddles-blog #mrsriddles-blogisblogging

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daytaker · 4 months

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The Gang React to You Saying You Hate Them

As a disclaimer, I'm going to say that these are reactions to you saying it and meaning it, not just being silly or dramatic. However, I'm also kind of assuming in most cases that this is NOT you saying "I am terminating our relationship entirely and this hate thing is a permanent situation."

The rest of the characters are below the cut.

Lucifer

"Very well. You're entitled to your opinion."

Depending on the situation, he might just shrug it off. It isn't like he hasn't dealt with his fair share of unfair whining from people who are upset with him. It would probably take a pretty emotionally charged situation for him to actually take you seriously.

In that case, he probably wouldn't quite know what would be best to do. He'd give you your space, but generally speaking, his demeanor wouldn't be significantly different. If things remain tense for more than a few days, he'll probably attempt to do the mature thing and sit down with you for a conversation to talk through your differences.

Mammon

"Pfft! No ya don't!"

Stage 1. Denial. You're so full of it. You couldn't possibly hate him, the Great Mammon, the first demon you ever made a pact with. You're just blowing off some steam. You'll get over it in a minute or two.

Stage 2. Anger. It's been a minute or two. You aren't backing down. Well, whatever! He isn't gonna sit around and let some whiny human talk shit about him! So he's going to maturely stomp to his room and maturely slam the door and maturely turn up some music obnoxiously loud.

Stage 3. Bargaining. Brooding has done whatever good it might have done, so he'll start to think of ways to change your mind about hating him. He's really an awesome guy, so it shouldn't be that hard. Obviously, the best way to let someone know you care is by spending money on them. So he'll go out on the town with a credit card and max it out on objects that are very pretty and shiny but really aren't your taste. (The fact that Mammon's taste is not the same as everyone else's taste mystifies him.)

Stage 4. Depression. The shopping trip having earned him nothing but abuse from Lucifer, he'll spend some time cooped up in his room and mope and sulk but definitely not cry, because how pathetic do you think he is? He ain't cryin' over one puny human!

Stage 5. Acceptance? Wait just a minute. You're so full of it. You couldn't possibly hate him, the Great Mammon, the first demon you ever made a pact with. He should stop sulking and go talk to you. Definitely not to beg you to forgive him or anything, but maybe if you squinted, it might look like that. Please don't hate him. Please?

Leviathan

"...I guess I should have known."

This is one of the choices that leads you straight to a bad ending. Ignoring him is one thing. Teasing him is another thing. Snapping at him when you're annoyed hurts, but he can justify it. But if you tell Levi you hate him, it will take a monumental amount of effort to undo that damage.

He'll probably assume you've always hated him, and that your friendliness was all an act. He won't be willing to take you at your word if you if you try and tell him that you didn't mean it, because how is he supposed to know that you aren't lying this time?

Satan

If he's (relatively) calm:

"You don't actually mean that. You sound like a child."

His reaction is a little bit like Lucifer's in this case; he'll leave you alone for awhile and not try to keep up the conversation. He won't really believe you actually hate him either. But he is a lot more insecure than Lucifer, so there's a part of him that nags at him... What if they actually hate you? He'll probably be irritable and difficult to approach when those thoughts are especially prevalent. Unfortunately, this is the sort of situation where Satan is immobilized by conflicting thoughts on what's going on, so it will probably be up to you to start a conversation and talk about whatever happened.

If he's very angry:

"Get out of here if you don't want to get hurt."

Whether that's a threat or a warning can be up to interpretation. I imagine that, as the Avatar of Wrath, there's a part of him that feeds on hate, so if Satan was a different sort of character, he'd say something like 'You fool! You're only increasing my power level!' But Satan being Satan, he'll spend some time in whatever room you've left him in and trash it before he calms down, feels extremely ashamed, sulks and/or broods for awhile at a complete loss for how to fix things without rolling over and looking completely pathetic, and, quite possibly, works himself up into another burst of rage from sheer frustration.

Ultimately, he'll probably be more comfortable talking things out through texts than in person (or starting the conversation with a text, then speaking face to face).

Asmodeus

"Hahaha... What...?"

He won't believe you for a second! Partly because, silly, of course you don't hate him, but also because his worldview does not allow for the possibility that someone he cares about might hate him. If he even considers the possibility that you might possibly, hypothetically mean it, he's in for an entire, earth-shattering identity crisis.

If you don't apologize pretty quickly or at least amend the statement to something he can accept, Asmo will head up to his room and hole up in there for awhile, obsessively tracking his social media accounts and pampering himself in the bathroom. You're lying, though. Look at this face! It's impossible to truly hate a face as beautiful as his.

Beelzebub

"Oh... Sorry..."

First he'll look like a deer in the headlights, and then he'll look like a kicked puppy. If he understands what led you to say this, he'll try and fix it, but if he doesn't, he will... (Select an answer below.)

A) Play video games with Levi. B) Go clubbing with Asmo. C) Eat. D) Learn to break dance.

If you guessed C) Eat, then you've been paying attention during your Obey Me! lessons.

And honestly. Honestly! Why would you say something like that? Maybe he's not your favorite brother, but we all know it's simply not possible to actually hate Beel. We all know you're full of it. So knock it off.

Belphie

"...Beel, did you hear something?"

Yep, Belphie is going to pull out all the pettiness he can scrounge up. He believes that the best defense is a good offense, and he's a pro. He'll act haughty and unbothered, ignoring you and looking entirely unbothered between sulking sessions under the covers.

Pettiness aside, you have, knowingly or otherwise, tapped into a source of deep anxiety in your relationship with Belphie. He has not forgotten the whole...incident that took place when you freed him from the attic. He knows that, reasonably, you probably should hate him, and it's amazing to him that you don't seem like you do.

Once tempers have cooled, it might be worthwhile to talk over what happened back then, just the two of you. It was pushed aside too quickly, and you both probably have things you wish you'd said.

Diavolo

"It seems I've upset you. Please know that I never meant to offend you."

He'll see that you're angry with him and give you your space, but he won't be as torn up about this as some of the others. Why? He simply won't believe you.

He has seen your soul, and it is not the soul of a hater.

Barbatos

"Oh?"

Yeah, get in line. Considering the amount of time travel shenanigans this guy has probably pulled, I have no doubt he has amassed more than his fair share of enemies. More than that, he already knows this is just you blowing off steam. Like Diavolo and Lucifer, this is just water off a duck's back.

Although, depending on how irritated he's feeling at the time of the incident, he may or may not wear a smirk as he gives his noncommittal response. Barbatos might be the man with the multiverse in the palm of his hand, but he is not above being petty. Watch your back for a few days.

Solomon

"Ah... It seems I've hit a nerve! I think I'll give you some time to cool down."

He'll back off and leave you to manage your anger in peace. Then he'll settle in to focus on some project or another that requires his undivided attention. He doesn't want to deal with all the unpleasantness that your words stirred up. Honestly, didn't he get past this sort of thing a few centuries ago? What's a little spat between friends? You don't actually hate him; not after all he's done for you. He can't possibly be feeling insecure...?

Nope, all he's feeling is itchy because of the toxic gas that's starting to pour out of his cauldron. He should open a window.

The Angels

I can't even do Simeon and Luke, because they'd both just be so confused and sad that I'm not sure where I'd go with it besides scolding you for being a bully. You don't just say "I hate you" to angels who are either extremely sweet and attractive or actual children.

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moremaybank · 8 months

Text

STUCK WITH YOU — j.m

day three reluctant friends to lovers with jj maybank

pairing mechanic!jj maybank x fem!employee!reader

summary working at jj maybank's body shop is no piece of cake when your boss clearly has it out for you. one day, the two of you get trapped in the supply closet, and you come to find out that he doesn't hate you at all. in fact, it's the complete opposite.

warnings 18+, unprotected sex, pussy eating, fingering, creampie, squirting, lamguage, jj calling himself daddy (as he should tbh), jj being an ass in the beginning

obx week ‘23 masterlist ;; jj masterlist

JJ had a reputation as the brooding mechanic who always seemed to be in a foul mood. His garage was known for its exceptional work, but he was equally renowned for his gruff demeanour. And it only seemed to worsen around you.

You, on the other hand, were his polar opposite. Friendly, efficient, and a vital employee in the auto repair shop. You were always bringing baked goods for the staff, buying cakes for their birthdays and giving them gifts when you come back from vacation. The customers loved you as well, always laughing and engaging in conversation. You were all sunshine and rainbows, things that JJ lacked severely.

Then, one hot summer day, fate intervened, locking the two of you in the cluttered supply closet at the back of the garage. The door jammed as it always did, and despite your best efforts, it refused to budge. To make things worse, it was just you two that day, everyone else being blessed with the day off. So here you were, stuck in a confined space with your boss who could barely stand to be around you.

"Great, just great," you muttered, frustration bubbling up inside as you jiggled the doorknob one more time.

"This is all your fault, you know. Everyone knows this damn door jams if you don't keep it open," JJ snapped. "I knew you should've taken the day off like everyone else."

"Tough, JJ. I don't care that I have to work under your glare for eight hours. I need the money."

"But I told you I didn't need the help. Now we're stuck in here for god knows how long, with no cell service or anyone to hear us for miles," he replied. "The universe must love me, 'cause I always dreamed of spending quality time with you in the storage closet."

Your jaw clenched at his sarcasm, but you weren't about to let him get the upper hand. "Trust me, the feeling's mutual."

The tension between you was palpable, and neither of you could deny that there was an undeniable chemistry lurking beneath the surface.

JJ paced back and forth, growing more ticked off by the second. "Why can't things ever go smoothly with you around?"

You crossed your arms, matching his glare. "Oh, please, as if you don't thrive on chaos."

He shot you a scathing look. "I thrive on fixing things, not dealing with your constant attitude."

"Well maybe you wouldn't have to deal with my attitude if you were just freaking nice to me."

JJ remained silent, his eyes darting away from you as he scoffed. He refused to take the bait. His patience had already worn thin, and the warmth was getting to him. So he slumped against the door, staring down at his boot clad feet.

Minutes turned into hours, and the heat was taking its toll on you both. JJ had undone the top half of his coveralls, leaving him in a white wife beater. His skin was clammy, and so was yours as you stood there in your buttoned t-shirt and work pants. You were far past dehydrated, and you tried to fan yourself with one of the folded paper bags you'd found on a shelf.

Suddenly, something shifted. JJ stood up, walking over to where you stood and running a hand through his tousled hair. "You know, I hate being locked in here with you."

"Gee, thanks."

He let out a sigh of exasperation. "Every day, I come into this garage and try to act like you don't make me want to pull my hair out. But being stuck in here, with no way out...it's making it damn near impossible to not act on my feelings."

Your heart skipped a beat, his confession hanging in the air. You weren't sure of where it was going, but you could see the vulnerability coming through.

"So, what? You're gonna stab me in the carotid with a screwdriver and put us both out of our misery?"

Your attempt at a joke to lighten the mood only frustrated JJ further. "Why does everything have to be so difficult with you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that I want you," he spoke. He took a step closer, invading your space as his eyes met yours in a way that sent shivers down your spine. With a low voice, he continued. "I can't keep pretending, Y/N. I can't keep pretending that I don't want to be more than your boss. That every time I see you I want to rip your clothes off and make you scream my name in front of everyone that works in my damn shop."

You found yourself speechless, the weight of his words sinking in. It was a side of JJ you'd never seen before; vulnerable and raw. You'd always known that he was attractive, but seeing him like this...it was sexy.

"JJ, I..." you started, your voice trembling.

He closed the distance between you, his lips hovering just inches form yours. "I can't keep pretending," he whispered.

Maybe it was the heat or dehydration that made you hazy. Maybe it was all the pent up desire you'd felt for him all along. But in that moment, you made a choice. Your lips met his in a searing kiss that was long overdue.

JJ's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. His hands slid down to your ass, groping you as you tugged him closer. Your teeth clashed, tongues stroking against each others as you finally let go of your control.

"You're gonna be sweating for an entirely different reason by the time I'm done with you," he rasped, hands finding each side of your shirt and ripping it down the middle. The buttons popped and flew in several directions, and you let him tug it off and cast it on the ground. His tank top was the next to go, followed by your pants and what was left of his coveralls.

JJ turned you around, your back facing him as he kneeled and yanked your panties down. He spread your ass cheeks wide, stretching your pussy into his view. He licked a stripe from your clit up to your ass, already tasting your arousal. He then dove in, feasting at the pussy he'd been dreaming about for months.

You cried out for him, your hands finding the shelves in front of you and gripping them tightly. "JJ, fuck."

He hummed into you, showing you that he was enjoying it as much as you were. His fingers found your clit and he started to rub circles into it as his tongue fucked your entrance. You were dripping down his chin, as he worked you up more and more. He drew your orgasm from you swiftly, his skilled tongue working wonders on you.

When he stood up, he spun you around once more and roughly pulled your bra down, exposing your tits. "I could cum just by looking at these, princess."

You blushed under his intense gaze, and pulled him in for another kiss. His hands found the backs of your thighs and he urged you to jump. He walked over to the door and pushed your back against it, and used one hand to shove his boxers down.

"I don't have a condom," he said.

"Then fuck me raw." His cock jumped at your words, and you gave him a smirk, knowing he wanted this just as bad as you did. "I've waited long enough for you to make your move. 'M not waiting any longer."

"Your wish is my command, pretty girl."

He slammed into you, his hands steadying on your hips and pulling you down to meet his thrusts. He pushed and pushed and pushed, hitting your g-spot over and over again. He was so forceful that the door shook with each movement. Your hands were clawed in his hair, your head thrown back against the wood as he fucked up.

"That's it. Take it. Take my cock like a good fucking slut," he grunted. "Dick's so good you can't speak, huh? No more attitude for me?"

He was taunting you and you knew it. He was so deep, filling all your senses and making your head fuzzy.

"Tell me you like it when I fuck you like this."

"I l-like it, J. So fucking good like this," you mewled. "Right there, JJ. Don't stop. Please don't stop."

"Knew my girl liked it rough. You want more? Want me to make you cum?"

You nodded furiously, and JJ smirked. He went harder, raising your legs up and above his shoulders as he drove into you. Your skin was raw, stinging with each pound of his hips.

"So fucking tight I'm gonna bust," he said. Your walls clenched at his words. "Yeah? You want my cum in this sweet little pussy?"

"Yes, JJ. Yes. Cum inside me, fuck. I’ll take it all."

"I know you will. Gonna do whatever daddy wants, right?"

You cried out, your nails digging into the back of his neck. Your legs were trembling, and you felt your release cresting deep inside you.

"Cum for me. Right now," he ordered. "Right fucking now."

His words and actions hit you like a brick, and so did your release. You were screaming for him as you came, your eyes rolling back as the pleasure flooded your senses.

"There we go. Finally listening to me, huh?"

He kept going, trying to reach his high and overstimulating you simultaneously.

"So fuckin' tight," he gritted out. "You know how many times I fucked my hand, pretending it was you? Cumming to your staff picture?"

Your core fluttered at the thought of JJ getting off to you in secret. Had he really wanted you this entire time?

"Give it to me, J. I want your cum in me. Wanna be yours. Give me your cum," you begged.

JJ kissed you hard, and after a few more thrusts, his seed was shooting into you. You felt the gooey warmth inside you and you were delighted.

He carried you to the chair in the corner of the room, kneeling before you and sliding two fingers deep inside. They curled against your g-spot again harshly, making your legs feel like jelly. "I want one more, baby. You're gonna give me one more."

"J, no. Gimme a break for a sec, I can barely breathe."

"That's the point, princess."

His fingers fucked you harshly, and his tongue lapped at your swollen bud. He shook his head side to side, slurping at you and moaning into you like a man starved. The vibrations overwhelmed your clit, and combined with the work he was doing on your special spot, you were putty in his hands.

Your hands held his face to you, and your thighs squeezed his head as you ground against his mouth. You bucked them furiously as you chased your next high.

"That's right. Use me. Use my mouth just how you like it," he spoke against your core. His words died in the air before you came, your juices gushing out of you and drenching his chin and chest.

"Oh my god, fuck!"

JJ withdrew his mouth from your cunt and he leaned up so he could kiss you. He continued fingering you, pulling juices from you like you were an overflowing fountain.

"Mm, keep going princess. Keep squirting for me. I want all of it."

"You're so gr-greedy," you panted out.

"Just makin' up for lost time."

JJ TAG LIST (JOIN HERE!): @pankowperfection @oncasette @taintedxkisses @mvybanks @wildflwrdarlin @rafesveryrealgf @dreamingwithrafe @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @maybank-archives @whoisdrewstarkey @aliyahsomerhalder @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @bbycowboi @rafesdirtyslut @venomwh0re @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @loverofdrewstarkey @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @glen-powells @papillonoirsworld @em0-b0ysworld @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptheimagines @bloody-mf-bsc @maybanksbabe @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @lvvrgrl @dancinglikeaballerina @somerandos-world @shahanaazsoumah @peachpitlover @sya-skies @julesmendoza890 @emmalandry @blueicequeen19 @madelynie @jeyusosgirl @urbestieboo @payton-dixonreader @l1lactheflower @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @gillybear17

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choreom4nia · 10 months

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◜ 𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ◞ : a collection of prompts from the 2023 animated film 𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐀 based off the graphic novel by nd stevenson . adjust phrasing as desired ! not spoiler free .

go back to the shadows from whence you came !

if you want a happily ever after , you can never let your guard down .

hey , thinky face . look at me .

it's not what [ ] wanted .

i don't feel safe .

i'm not brooding ! i'm just - i'm thinking .

this is my thinking face .

you were better and worked harder than all of us .

but what if they still hate me ?

they're gonna love you . like i do .

did you think i was going to apologize for how i treated you ? oh my god , that's hilarious . you're so stupid , i love it .

some of us don't get the happily ever after we're looking for .

the garbage and the smell of sadness really pull the whole thing together .

wait , who are you ?

put that down !

okay , how old do you think i am ?

not a lot of kids in your life huh ?

i'm here about the job .

do you like it ?

every villain needs a sidekick .

sweet murder wall !

this guy looks extremely punchable .

you're right , he is extremely punchable .

are you saying you're not a villain ?

are you disappointed that i'm not a murderer ?

it's complicated , okay ?

i am not gonna get arrested !

i trusted you .

give me a chance !

because once everyone sees you as a villain , that's what you are .

they only ever see you one way . no matter how hard you try .

if you see anyone , hide .

that's a hard no .

something , something , something , we win !

did you see the way he looked at me ?

how could i promise you when i don't know what's about to happen ?

this is the part where you run .

you're a monster .

do not call me that !

why are you helping me ?

everybody hates you too .

i think what you mean to say is thanks for saving my life .

can you just be you please ?

i can't be seen with that !

you've been staring .

can you please just be normal for a second ?

easier for who ?

how did you get like this ?

that explains literally nothing .

you need to sit down . you're bleeding !

most people scream at that part .

i'm not people .

does it hurt at all ?

i've been through worse .

what does it feel like ?

i feel worse when i don't do it .

why did you set me up ?

they brainwashed you good .

arm chopping is not a love language !

it's how we were trained .

you should be questioning everything right now !

i've lost my mind . i've lost everything .

i never asked for that .

you lied to me about everything !

then you never knew me at all .

i've got you , kid !

i said i don't want to talk about it !

i don't need your help !

i don't know what's scarier : the fact that everyone wants to kill me ? or that sometimes , i just wanna let ' em .

we have to get you out of here.

we'll go , together .

no matter what we do we can't change the way people see us .

you changed the way you see me .

it's okay . you're safe . we're home .

let's live here forever .

i wouldn't be here if you'd stood up for me .

there is something i need to tell you .

i'm not the villain here !

i know ! i know . i believe you .

i'm sorry for everything .

we've been wrong about everything .

this was a mistake .

why can't you just leave me alone ?

because i love you .

tell me this isn't you .

where did you get that ?

you think that i would do that ? that that's who i am ?

think about everything that we've been through together !

you were using me !

you wanted them to see someone else to hate so you wouldn't be alone !

i want to hear you say it ! say it !

don't you wish you were normal ?

you know what you are !

innocent people will die .

what are we doing ?

what have i done ?

i'm sorry . i'm sorry .

i see you .

i see you . and you're not alone .

what if we're wrong ? what if we've always been wrong ?

be right back . i'm gonna go break some stuff .

it's time to rewrite the story .

come back . please come back .

maybe it's not the end of the story .

holy sh - !

#nimona prompt #rp meme #rp prompt #nimona rp meme #nimona rp prompt #movie rp meme #movie rp prompt #cannot explain the visceral way this movie slaughtered me #rp resource #nimona meme #mine *

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m4rs-ex3 · 25 days

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ALLLL RIGHTY YALL

if u haven't already seen.............. guys i was late i was fucking late for the panel give me a break

BUT here is a play by play of everything from the second i got in

[A GOOD CHUNK OF THE SECRET SCENE] if you saw this post within the first few *hours you got to see but you know what? they got to me i don't wanna be the snitch (i did on accident but its the though that counts)

opeli is being led blindfolded (which we see from opeli's pov. riveting visuals i tell you) by soren to the ✨secret meeting location✨

when she comments on the fact that it is literally just callum's office soren shuts her up bless him

opeli's like "DID BAIT GIVE BIRTH??!?!?" and soren's like no these are "rescue baits" and opeli gives them the greatest fucking look i can't even describe it to you

you've seen that leak "look it's the pearl :D""WHA""yep he's in there :)))))"

rayla says it like "per-al." just thought you should know

soren suggests forming a Fellowship of the Pearl and going to throw it into a volcano i fucking hate this show

they're all debating what to do with it meanwhile the most cryptic-ass shots of callum with the pearl like we get it he's fucked (i take it back i want more)

they finally get to him and he's like "uh????? destroy it obviously?????"

he suggests--and these are 100% his words (not actually cuz u know but its the general idea)--"smash it? throw it off a cliff? take a big ol axe and just--KA CHOP." i love him so much

rayla asks how they know it won't just release him

the way callum is so confused and conflicted and he just says "i... i don't know" oh my god by precious baby

cool ass top-down to the pearl whirlpool esq transtion into the next scene hello??

zym is being emo at a painting of his mother (the one from 4x03 yeah they just stitched that shit up it's all good)

ezran's like. huh. we oughtta do smth abt this

callum is Thinking Thoughts on the turrets(?? yk where soren does his lunges) and tossin the rune cube when he sees the star rune light up......................................

it's stella stella's there and the way he reacts to her is so precious 😭 he's not the step dad he's the dad who stepped up type shit

enter rayla "they told me u would be up here brooding"

(in a tragic turn of events the rayllum of this scene had my brain fuzzy so i can't remember a few chunks here and there have pity my brain has rotten)

callum's like "we have to do something i'm scared he's gonna use me. i know what we need to do ok we need to go to the starscraper"

it's honestly hilarious the way he says "and *WE.* should go" he's like "don't be gettin any ideas now this is an us thing"

and then ohoho "they have something there for you, too" (THAT was an exact quote)

he's like "PLSPLSPLS i've studied star magic i know the spells i know the runes i just need the quasar diamonds!! LET ME FREE UR PARENTS AND RUNAAN PLEAAAASSSSEEEE"

rayla is veryyyyyy opposed she's like "NO i want to help my parents as much as you"--honestly i don't think ANYONE wants to as much as him--"but i don't want my biases to affect that" BIASES?!??!! like that was the word she used i can't stop thinking about it

zym has entered his wolf child era his ass is HOWLING at the moon

soren hears him and goes "aww little guy misses his mom :((( sometimes i wonder where my mom is...." WHAT AWHAT WHAT AWHAT PJARDON SAY IT AGIAN YOU WAHGTS SAY IT AGIAND HUAH HUWH A

ok. yeah callum does not have pajamas BUT I THINK WE HAVE BIGGER ISSUES HERE????????????? HE WAS SLEEPING IN HIS OFFICE

THAT COUCH THING THAT THEY WERE ON WHEN RAYLA CAME BACK IN 4x03???? HES JUST SLEEPING ON IT I CANT MY GUY WHAT R U DOINGGG

in other news

bruv is tossing and turning and then just. ~stops.~ this can only mean good things (i think you know where i'm going with this)

he sits up. hobbles over to the door. there was a really cool transition (can u tell i respect the cinematography) and he's in the cellar holding the pearl.

he wakes up in aaravos' prison and is like "well this looks neat!" until he sees the mirror and screams and wakes up. when he realizes where he is he goes "what have i done" dude you fell asleep?? god he's never sleeping again (<- me when i lie 😈)

the description we got of this next scene did NOT do it justice it was fucking incredible

callum kicks down the fucking door (not actually) screaming for rayla

rayla TUMBLES OUT OF BED ON TO THE FLOOR, pillows in hands and unafraid to use them

"WHOA. HEY HEY ITS OKAY ITS ME! it's just me rayla. it's me. callum" i feel like he was saying the same 5 words for 7 hours it was beautiful

rayla: "callum?? jeez i could have-" *looks at pillows*

callum giggles the cutest fucking giggle and says something along the lines of "yeah, it would've hurt real bad :)"

oh yeah DE-LAYERED PONYTAIL RAYLA CONFIRMEDED??!?!?!?!?!

she sits back on the bed and my guy KNEELS DOWN AT THE CORNER OF THE BED TO PICK UP HER STUFF BEFORE HE SITS DOWN NEXT TO HER and they say chivalry is dead romance was birthed and ended with this scene

he tells her about it and she goes "callum, you're exhausted. you had a nightmare. if i thought you were in any real danger you know i would-" and then ironically i forget the same line that the person from nycc did wouldja look at that

can i just mention how close they were sitting in this scene i mean i jsut thikn i should mention hwo clo

yada yada he has a lightbulb and runs off with her blanket

the iconic "i know stella.. he took our blankie :("

god knows why barius is up in the middle of the night whispering sweet nothings to his jelly tarts

callum comes in with a certain proposition mwuhahaha

rayla comes into his office and sees his aesthetic ass sewing by fireside and graciously says "ah i get it! you're taking your mind off things by peacefully knitting" so iconic for both of them

callum explains that he's stitching runes to create a protection spell when barius comes in with the """"""""pearl""""""""""

rayla DIVES in front of callum and says "what r you doing get that thing AWAY from him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" she got SO protective SO fast it was blessed

callum's like au contraire 😈

ok so obviously we had all heard about the fake pearl but. you know that one guy who makes insane sculptures out of nothing but chocolate? that's what they did the pearl is brown sludge with a candy coating 💀 i'm losing my mind that is so funny to me

so yeah with the decoy out the real pearl is protected by--and callum literally said this--"a magic blankie >:)"

he also pops in to tell ez and omg GUYS BAIT HAS HIS OWN LITTLE ROYAL CANOPY BED ITS SO FUCKING CUTE

dawn in the courtyard--ez is saying goodbye to soren, zym, and pyrrah who are going to look for zubeia (i almost just typed zendaya i need sleep) and callum and rayla who r going to the starscraper

my roman empire is this: callum was acting all eepy and then when they get going hE RESTS HIS HEAD ON RAYLA'S BACK AND FALLS ASLEEP. I CANNOT FUCKING MAKE THIS UP IT WAS PHENOMENAL SHE LOOKED SO FUCKING HAPPY I I I I I I HAKJSDHFKJASHFDKJHSADKFHKJASHFIHASEKFH

on a slightly lower note

scene from teaser except they did cut a couple lines in the teaser. mainly just terry going "didn't see you there,, cuz i was asleep. with my eyes closed"

he does not in fact get impaled but claudia tells him she's gonna leave him first and does just that

as she's going omfg terry's cries and pleas and "I LOVE YOU"s and "I WILL WAIT. I WILL WAIT HERE FOR YOU" was absolutely insane idk what was in the air in that recording studio but shout out to ben

i am so tired goodbye!

#SO SORRY i couldn't get this out last night #but here she is #tdp s6 #tdp s6 spoilers #tdp spoilers #tdp wondercon #tdp #the dragon prince #*thought i fixed it within minutes but iiii did not💀

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so-long-soldier-writes · 8 months

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The Case of the Missing Shirts

elijah mikaelson x reader

summary: elijah's baffled about how many of his shirts that have gone missing... kol hints that you might be behind the harmless theft.

tags: fluff, wolf!reader, pregnancy, nesting

word count: 1.3k

a/n: hayley erasure; reader is in her place

A confused Elijah shakes his head one more time before going downstairs and into the kitchen. He greets his sister with a “good morning,” and receives one back, before the girl eyes him suspiciously.

“You wore that shirt yesterday, did you not?”

“How could you tell, Bex? They’re all the same,” Kol interrupts before he can respond.

“There’s a little wrinkle there, and I know how much you hate wrinkles.”

Elijah sighs, “actually, I did. It’s the strangest thing, I can’t find so many of my shirts. My others are in the wash at the moment, leaving me with this one.”

“Missing shirts? How odd.”

“My thoughts exactly. I have no idea where they might be.”

Kol’s face changes to a smirk. “Might have something to do with the little wolf upstairs.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean, I’m not saying she stole them, but you might want to check with her.”

“Are you insinuating Y/N is stealing my clothes? Why would you accuse her of something like that?”

“I’m not accusing her of anything, brother, I’m just saying, she might know where they are.”

In fact, Kol knows exactly where all his missing shirts are. You have taken them. He saw it for himself when he went to check on you the other night. He had entered the room before you had time to hide them, and he chuckled at the sight, but promised not to tell Elijah. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t hint at his knowledge of where they are.

Elijah sighs, annoyed at the situation, and now at his brother. “I don’t like you talking about her like that.”

“I’m not saying anything bad! Sorry I said anything. Your shirts can stay missing for all I care.” With that, Kol leaves the room.

As he passes the threshold, another brother enters. “What’s his problem?” Nik gestures to the brooding sibling on his way back upstairs.

“Nothing of concern, Niklaus, we just had a scuffle.”

“What kind of scuffle?”

“Have you seen where any of Elijah’s shirts have gone, Nik? He can’t seem to find them,” Rebekah interrupts the conversation.

“This scuffle is about shirts? Are we serious?”

“Well Kol thinks Y/N knows where they are, but-”

“-I have no idea why he would think that,” Elijah finishes.

“Again,” Klaus pinches his nose in disbelief, “the argument is over shirts? I have more important business to handle.” And with that, he storms out to the balcony.

Rebekah and Elijah look at each other.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask her, ‘Lijah.”

“Alright,” he says finally, “I’ll ask.”

Thirty minutes later, he ventures up to your room and knocks on your door.

“Y/N?”

His voice makes you panic, and you begin to stuff your belongings under your pillows and blankets. “One minute!” Once your bed is more or less neat, you call out for him to enter.

Elijah opens the door slowly and surveys the room. “Hello, lovely, I was just wondering if you knew where any of my shirts have gone? It’s the strangest thing, I can’t find them.”

You shift uncomfortably. “N-no, I haven’t seen them.”

Your strange behavior doesn’t go unnoticed by the thousand year old vampire. He narrows his eyes at you. “Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“Are you sure?”

You nod your head quickly, not trusting your words.

“Darling? If you know, I won’t be upset.”

You try to lie again, but your breath gets caught in your throat. “I’m sorry!” You blurt out. “I have them; they’re all here.” One-by-one, you pull the missing garments out from under your blankets. “I’m sorry I took them! I liked the way they smell, because they smell like you, and it makes me feel safe.”

His face immediately softens, “oh, don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong. I just wanted to know.”

“I know you’re running low, you can have them back.” You ignore his words, shoving the pile into his arms. A pouty expression takes over your face, making him regret confronting you about it.

“How about this… let me wash these, because I do happen to be low on clean ones, but every time I wear one, you can have it for a couple of days, okay?”

At this, your eyes light up. “Really?”

“Would that make you happy?”

You nod quickly, but not before biting your lip in embarrassment and looking down at the floor.

He catches on quickly. “There’s no reason to feel embarrassed, love. I’m not going to pretend to know what you’re going through, but I do understand your reason for this. I’m glad my scent makes you feel safe.”

You want to tell him it’s more than that. You want to tell him he makes you feel safe, and that having his scent so close reminds you of that. You want to tell him that you cuddle it when you sleep, because if you can’t have him, having his scent is the next best thing. Most of all, you want to tell him just how badly you want him.

But you can’t. Because the baby growing inside you isn’t his. It’s his brother’s.

Deep down, you think Elijah already knows this. You know he cares for you, he’s proven it to you many times. He has kept you safe ever since you came into the family’s lives; he’s fought for you, killed for you.

The only thing standing in the way of him taking things further with you is that the baby isn’t his. You can’t be his.

So, the two of you tiptoe around his brother. In love but not allowed to express it, and instead, showing your affection for one another through little things. Everyone in the house can see right through you, though. Nik ignores it, while the younger two tease.

But the further you get in your pregnancy, the more needy you become. Your body craves and heart aches for him. Not able to ignore your desires any longer, you caved just a little bit and stole a shirt. One became two, two became three, then three somehow became half his closet. You were finally able to sleep comfortably with his scent filling your nose; his shirts enveloping your body in your bed.

“In fact,” Elijah continues, “keep these two for now. I’ll wash the rest. At the end of the day, I’ll give you this one, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And please, love, come down and eat something. You need to keep up your strength.”

“But I just want to sleep, ‘Lijah.”

“I know, but your baby needs something, too. Just a snack. For me?”

“Okay.”

“There’s my good little girl,” he praises, kissing your forehead gently. He then hands you back two of his shirts, and you leap back in your bed before he can see the blush on your cheeks. “Eat something soon. I’ll be back to check on you.”

◇◇◇◇

At the end of the day, Elijah knocks on your door again to fulfill his promise. It’s nearing nine o’clock, so you’re groggy when you answer him.

“Come in,” you say, rubbing your eyes. You wake up quickly, though, when you remember the agreement you made.

Elijah enters, holding his worn dress shirt. “As promised, little wolf.”

You smile up at him before taking it, silently asking permission.

“Go ahead.”

His heart warms as he watches you. You take the shirt and immediately hurry back to your bed. Not caring that he can see, you begin to rearrange the nest you’ve made on your bed so that the newest addition to your pile can be closest to your body. For five minutes, you organize everything how you want it, changing the order several times after it doesn’t feel good enough the first. By the time you finally lay down, tonight’s promised shirt hugs alongside your body perfectly. You run the fabric against your cheek, taking in the scent, before letting out a content sigh.

Elijah comes over to the edge of your bed, and you roll over on your back to look up at him.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Thank you,” you mutter.

“Of course,” he kisses your nose. Before he leaves, he takes one more glance at your relaxed form. “Sleep well, my little wolf.”

#elijah mikaelson fluff #elijah mikaelson x reader #tvd fanfiction #the originals fanfiction

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cod-sins · 9 months

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𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

.ೃ࿐ Ratings: SFW

.ೃ࿐ Reader: Undisclosed

[A/N: I didn't proofread this so if you see a mistake no you did not.]

[Edit: I can't seem to add a read more option fellow mobile users I am so sorry]

𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖

𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 ‣. I see König standing at a whopping 6'10 (because I say so) meaning he's a big guy. He has trouble finding clothes that fit his size (especially pants). He gets alot of his civilian clothes tailored or he just has his Oma [ :')] do it for him. I imagine he wears a size 49 in European shoes (16 for Americans) and he prefers boots and sneakers instead of sandals and loafers. His usual outfits include plain colored tees, a jacket (usually dark colors; black, navy blue, hunter green), sweatpants [show off that dickprint] and combat boots. König doesn't wear his hood out in public, so he settles for black or blue surgical masks. He doesn't want to draw anymore attention to himself so dressing casual is his way to go. He's got big meaty thighs and hard abs with a sharp prominent v-line (mwah) to tie it all together.

‣. König has a cleft lip! It's on the right side of his mouth, he hated it as a child but grew up to realize it was apart of him. He has scars on his forearm from a hostile trying to slash him. They run deep and it was a pretty painful experience for him (he hates talking about it and he tries to wear long sleeved clothes but sometimes the weather ends up winning). He also has a bullet scar on his thigh as well. He keeps his nails short except one or two just in case he needs to pick something or scratch. I imagine his hair to be a soft strawberry blonde color. Something like this, this, and this. Because of the military he keeps it very short but he likes when his s/o styles it around. It looks similar to these styles. Despite what canon says I say his eyes are deep green.

‣. König is a Libra! His birthdate is August 22, 1995! [I know Libra's aren't born in August but for the sake of fanfiction shhhh let's pretend it is!] Making König 27 years old; He's very mature for his age!

𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈 ‣. König suffered from anxiety/social anxiety since he was 17 and still suffers till this day just not as much. He's able to turn it off in the field but once he's on leave and is around other civilians it comes crawling back. It has stopped him from making friends, hanging out with his fellow soldiers and even dating. He's still a virgin because of this (and because of work and him finding the right person but that's a later issue). However once you get past that shy exterior he's pretty cocky. He's proud of the fact that he is a colonel and he enjoys secretly flexing on his s/o. "Ja, I took down a group of terrorists and saved all the hostages by myself. No big deal (👀)." He's one of those quiet people who talks alot of shit in their head and sends side eyes instead of starting shit.

‣. König is relatively good at hiding his anger, especially since he wears that mask 24/7. He'll quietly brood in the corner--arms crossed giving off an aura that spooks the new recruits. He's very quiet not speaking unless spoken too or if he needs something. König is so sarcastic! He'll roll his eyes (secretly) or mumble smart comments under his breath––mocking whatever superior that pissed him off. If you're close to you him you'll notice when he's happy. He has a slight bounce in step and he walks with his chest puffed up proudly. It's a real cute sight honestly.

𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙵𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 ‣. König's favorite colors are earthy tones. He likes dark woodsy green, russet and navy blue. I imagine he loves the ocean and water. Especially creeks! Winter may not be his favorite season but he loves hiking through the snow in his hometown's nature trails. He enjoys hearing the sound of the snow and dead leaves crunch under his footsteps. Speaking of hometown his favorite dishes are things like beef stew or anything meaty and hearty. He really likes homemade jams and jellys. He prefers going to the farmers market and picking up his fruits and vegetables fresh.

‣.This man's house is HUGE. It would look maybe something like this. It's super spacious with a few spare rooms for guests. König showers more than he bathes. He's legs are too long to fit which makes him have to awkwardly scrunch himself up. He isn't around much because of his work so he never took to the time to properly decorate. If you're his s/o he gives you permission to decorate. Make it look really pretty for him please. He lives somewhere a little distant from the city; closer to the country but not too far. He still wants to be close to local shopping markets.

‣.I think König would prefer a fat/chubby partner over a thinner partner. He enjoys grabbing onto their body, holding them closely feeling the warmth radiate from their body. I see him liking a partner who is quiet. Not as quiet as him because he likes when your chatter fills the silence. But someone who's able to relax and enjoy the ambience of their surroundings. Someone who is able to point out the little details in things. He wouldn't mind an outgoing s/o, someone who speaks for him when he doesn't feel verbal that day.

König was once stationed by an ocean for half a year and it was the best moments of his life. It was so calming for him. Every night he could hear the waves gently crashing against each other it always soothed him. It was favorite lullaby (after the one his mom sings).

König always has his hands held behind his back or he holds them in the front. He enjoys grabbing parts of himself it helps keep him stable and grounded. He also fiddles alot. Like he constantly stretches and wiggles his fingers. Or he lightly traces his thighs up and down with his fingers.

One of his favorite genres of music is Electro Swing. His favorite band is Caravan Palace. He loves all their albums.

100% picks people up. If you're his s/o and you're in his way he's grabbing you by the waist and gently moving you over. If you're on the battlefield god knows he's treating you like a football; bro is slugging you over his shoulder if you get injured or he's tackling you down to protect you from grenades.

If he's stutters too much in a sentence he gets really mad. He doesn't find it funny when people mock his accent. Also!! There are certain English words that König just doesn't know. He's fluent in English and can write well but there are times he gets stuck on words he doesn't recognize.

Has a thing for chubby cheeks. Also really likes chubby fingers. If you have fat fingers please give him a massage, he would love it so much. It's such a nice contrast too; his rough calloused hands compared to your soft round ones.

Looves chocolate. Especially dark chocolate, he really enjoys candy bars with nuts and toffee in them. He adores American super-sized candy bars. He also really likes twizzlers and licorice.

He doesn't outwardly smoke but if you offer he won't refuse. He's makes sure not to make it a habit (his grandmother was very upset when she caught him smoking once), he'd rather die by a bullet than slowly kill himself.

I know I said he's 27 but I imagine him to be 35 in canon.

NATURE LOVER! Bro is enamored by the beauty of his home country. He loves observing the wildlife on walks. He has a journal where he keeps different leaves from different places he was stationed at.

Good friends with Horangi. Not like BFFS (they are) but they're drinking buddies. Horangi helps König with his social anxiety and König helps Horangi not fall back into gambling.

König's favorite meat ever is lamb. He fucking loves a tender lamb roast. Gets annoyed as hell when the meat get stuck between his gums but he thinks it's worth it for the delicious food.

Pretty particular about his beers, he doesn't drink anything he's a man of class! He'll go on this super long lecture about how German brewing is so much better than other countries and that non-German beer/alcohol can't compete. Him and Soap got into an argument about this.

He keeps his area as tidy as possible. He isn't a slob but isn't a complete neat freak. If he has a bunch of random items out he'll try and keep them in a organized pile.

Sometimes he leaves his guns out around his house.

Lowkey likes being needed. There are times when his fellow soldiers ask him for help carrying extra stuff or when children or the elderly ask him to reach stuff off the top shelves. Especially likes when his s/o ask him to carry them. He'll start to puff his chest out and walk around with a dumb grin under his mask.

Type of guy to see people down an asle and wait for them to move instead of saying excuse me. [Projecting fr fr]

A real crafty individual, his hood is just a tee-shirt with holes in it. His helmet is literally a bicycle helmet he modded with military gear. König knows how to sew and he can tailor a little. He prefers taking his clothes to a seamstress or tailor because his hands are very big and sewing can a take a long time and he doesn't have that much patience for it.

He LOVED arts and crafts as a child. He would make so much shit to bring him to his mom and grandma. His grandmother still has his things till this day.

His favorite English speaking bands would be The Smiths, Boâ and The Cranberries. He likes to quietly sing to himself it makes him happy. He also enjoys 70-80s music. I also think he likes the sound of nu metal/rock instrumentals.

If he had an s/o he would love to dance with them. He would/could never dance in public but behind closed doors god knows this man would shimmy with his partner. He doesn't care if you can dance well because he can't dance well, he just wants to let loose and have fun with you.

Broke a guy's ribcage once. It was during sparring and König was pretty pissed with the man because he did something cocky and stupid that caused them the life of another soldier. He didn't receive proper punishment because they successfully completed the mission but König decided he should deal his own form of justice. By putting so much pressure on his chest until he heard a satisfying crack sound.

I think he likes apple cider.

He was raised by his mother and grandmother so he has a softer spot towards woman. He enjoys being in their company.

Smells like one of those fireplace candles or something with sandlewood and cinnamon. On the battlefield thought he reeks of blood, sweat and gunpowder.

Absolutely hates when there is dirt under his nails (or anyone else's). He thinks it looks so gross it makes him wanna vomit.

His favorite animal is probably either a bear or fox. He also likes pigs, he thinks the little piglets are so cute.

König is texter not a caller. He'll send his s/o paragraphs of texts instead of small individual ones because he thinks the notifications would be annoying and the last thing he wants to be is annoying (please convince him he's not).

He always plans out conversations in his head. Before going to check-out he's going through a mental rundown of what the total is gonna be, how he's gonna pay and what the cashier is going to say. Being in the military lowkey made this worse. He's always over analyzing conversations because he's afraid of messing up and embarrassing himself.

He likes drama movies and psychological horror. Midsommar is one of his favorite horror movies.

König has stretch marks on his thighs and legs and a little on his stomach. His growth spurt was crazy as a child.

Requests: OPEN

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

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writerblue275 · 3 months

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Heartsteel Ranking: “Scary boyfriend privilege”

(AKA how intimidating they are to people who don’t know them.)

Inspiration: I’ll be honest this is a bit of a random ranking but I thought it would be fun to do and it was!

Champions: Heartsteel

Genre: Ranking

Type: Fluff? This is meant in a funny way.

Tw: Small mention of alcohol (drink responsibly y’all), and swearing (because I do, in fact, have the mouth of a damn sailor.)

List goes least intimidating to most intimidating.

LEAST

Ezreal (One of these days I will do a ranking that doesn’t put him at the bottom! I swear it’s not intentional! 😂)

Let’s be honest no one is shocked he’s here, right? Where else was Ez going to go on this list?? This isn’t a bad thing though! He just gives off such golden retriever energy and it’s amazing and I love him. I want to be at least best friends with HS Ezreal.

Despite the usual happy golden retriever energy, he’s definitely not afraid to tell people off/protect you though. (I feel like he secretly has quite a temper. He’s a Sagittarius after all [love my fellow 🔥 signs WOOT WOOT]. Usually he’s very good about keeping it under control…but if someone [besides you, he absolutely adores you] pushes him too far [ex: by making you uncomfortable]…just see what happens.)

Aphelios

You absolutely have scary boyfriend privilege with Aphelios, but I just can’t rank him higher than any of the other members below. He definitely has that “brooding silent type” down pat, and when he’s wearing his mask, that’s doubled. That air of mystery, baby, he’s got that in SPADES.

We also know he’s tall. Like not Sett, K’Sante, or Yone tall, but he’s got some height on him (unconfirmed 6’). Physically, he’s definitely more intimidating than Ez. Like imagine Phel silently staring daggers at someone. Lmao I’d hate to be whoever pissed him off.

K’Sante

Most of this comes from his height (unconfirmed 6’4”) and the fact he’s one of the gym bros. Like general vibe/personality-wise, I think Phel could be more-intimidating than K’Sante (or even Sett), but have you seen how just MASSIVE K’Sante is? HE CAN CANONICALLY BENCH SETT. Like 😮😮😮

Not to mention I feel like he’d always stick close to you in public, so no one would even dream of trying to do anything to you. (Unless they’re a whole dumbass.) K’Sante genuinely gives me very kind vibes, but he definitely protects those he loves very fiercely.

Sett

Sett is (unconfirmed) 6’7” (at least confirmed the tallest in the group), and JACKED AS HELL. Not to mention “allergic” to sleeves so those arms are out most of the time lmao. Only a fucking moron (or someone who is incredibly drunk) would look at Settrigh and go “oh yeah I am absolutely going to mess with this guy.” RIP that idiot.

He also doesn’t fuck around about the safety of the people he loves. Sett genuinely seems like the sweetest guy (I love this giant, ripped, sewing himbo so fucking much oh my fucking god) but he can/will be intentionally intimidating if it’s necessary to keep you or Ma safe (the two most important figures in his life 🥺). Will walk you home/keep you close to him in crowded situations. He always wants you to feel safe when you’re with him (you absolutely do like how could you not?).

Kayn

So this is based on both appearance and reputation. Obviously Kayn has quite the reputation from his last band (as well as being kicked out of it.) Appearance-wise, he’s not super tall, but he’s tall enough. Not to mention the piercings, tattoos, the fact he’s also in excellent shape (I mean we all saw those abs 😏), has vibrant dyed hair, a very bright red eye, and he is a total metal head. He can also, um, travel through WALLS. (Small detail lol.)

DO I EVEN HAVE TO MENTION RHAAST (even as his stage alter ego)???? Kayn can be pretty impulsive and sometimes acts first, thinks later. (He’s currently working on that with Yone, it’s fine.) Someone would be a damn fool to fuck with him or you. He just gives me very loyal guard dog vibes. (I mean he did wear the damn leash in the mv so….😝)

Yone

There is no one (let me repeat: NO ONE) I’d want to fuck with less than Yone. This man has quintessential resting bitch face (RBF), is like 6’ 2-3” (unconfirmed), in very good shaped (based on the lovely titty window of his outfit. Thank you, Riot designers) and is able to (mostly) wrangle the rest of the group. Also (hella obvious but) HE’S AN INTROVERT (INFJ specifically). People are NOT his thing (fucking MOOD).

Yone is the one who gives the most similar vibes to the TikToks I’ve seen that show cosplayers at Cons with their scarier-dressed friends/partners following behind them keeping them safe. (For Yone, it’s the RBF/air of mystery that really sets the tone.) He gives me such mature gentleman vibes as well. He’s always going to walk you home especially at night, or he’ll stay by your side in a crowd and you are just going to feel really safe with him. Top-tier scary boyfriend privilege right there.

Most

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Ok so the least and most intimidating were extremely obvious to me. It was everyone else in between that made things difficult. This was really fun to write though, even if the concept is a bit silly! 😂

#heartsteel #heartsteel headcanons #heartsteel x reader #heartsteel fluff #Heartsteel ranking #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel ezreal #heartsteel kayn #heartsteel k'sante #heartsteel sett #heartsteel yone

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 months

Note

May I request Kieran with an older cousin Reader who also goes to blueberry? Like post TealMask and pre Indigo disk reader is just like “Alright buddy, why don’t you just take a breath and calm down, I’ve poured some chocolate milk, tell me what’s wrong.”

Yesss bc TealMask Kieran definitely needed somebody to talk to after all that shit went down-

And choccy milk, of course

.........

"I hate you...you should've chosen ME. Was I not good enough? If I'm that weak, then I'll just get stronger. And I'll get even stronger until you wish I was your trainer-"

The knock on the door snapped Kieran out of his tirade for a moment. But he refused to move from his bed, glaring back down at the Ogre mask in his hands as the knocking persisted.

He wasn't in the mood to see anyone right now.

"Go away, sis." He snarled. "I'm busy-"

"Too busy to see your cousin, Kiki?"

Oh.

Although he was still brooding, he couldn't ignore the fact that his favorite cousin was here, wanting to see him after he's been away from the academy for a while. So he forced himself to get up and leave the mask on his desk.

He opened the door to see you and your Shiny Furret at your side, smiling at him in greeting. Attached to her collar was a shimmering normal gem; he recalled you explaining how it powered-up one of her normal type attacks in battle, albeit only once.

Yet seeing her reminded him of his own Furret and the losses they both suffered....and he couldn't help but look away, unable to meet her gaze. "Hi, [y/n]..it's been a while.."

"I know, right?" You chuckled. "How was your trip? Carmine told me you guys had to come back a little early-"

"It was awful."

"...awful?" In that moment, you could feel your stomach sink, and hearing your Furret's concerned trill made you realize something was very, very wrong.

Kieran looked as though he hated the world, anger clouding his eyes.

"Yeah.." Clenching his fists, he could feel his jaw tightening up. Tears were already blurring his vision as he wondered why everything had to turn out the way it did...

He thought he made an actual friend who was a strong trainer....only for them to befriend his sister, meet Ogerpon, lie to him on multiple occasions, and steal the Pokémon he idolized--all while kicking him and his team into the dirt like they were nothing.

Like he was nothing.

He felt cheated, wronged, humiliated-

"Hey, it's alright..take a few deep breaths." You gently patted him on the shoulder, noticing how he was seething in anger over something you didn't quite understand yet. But you hoped to get to the bottom of it soon enough. "We can talk about it over some drinks."

He took a few breaths, his body now slightly less tense than before as he tried to remain calm. "You got me something?"

"Of course." Nodding, you took some glass bottles out of your satchel--moomoo milk to be exact. "They finally restocked your favorite. Chocolate." You handed one to him, confused when he just stared at it, not taking it right away.

Normally, he'd be unable to resist something sweet, especially chocolate (it runs in the family, anyways), but now he looked almost offended that you dared to buy him something he liked.

"I'm not a little kid anymore, y'know."

"Kiki, I'm almost 20 and I still drink this stuff. You're never too old to enjoy it."

".....fine, thanks." He grumbled, finally accepting the bottle before returning to his bed, taking a few sips.

Although he felt a little better knowing you still thought about him, he kept stewing over the other people who didn't care about him anymore.

Or at least in his eyes...they didn't care.

You sat beside him, with your Furret climbing on the bed and curling around him. He sighed and rested a gloved hand on her tail, fingers stroking the fur.

"Now..what happened?"

".....where do I even start?"

Yikes. He wasn't cracking right away and instead was being extremely vague, so you knew something was seriously wrong.

Growing up, he used to always run to you to hide from his sister or bullies, never keeping secrets. You were the only cousin (or family member for that matter) who didn't judge him for liking Ogerpon or being reluctant to do Pokémon battles.

Now he was acting more withdrawn than ever, even with you here.

"Maybe from the beginning..when you first got to Kitakami." You suggested, yet he still seemed hesitant.

"Do you have time? You don't have better things to do?" He muttered.

"My class in the canyon biome got out early, so I have all the time in the world."

Although it took some more convincing, Kieran ended up going into detail about everything that happened on his trip: Florian/Juliana, Carmine, his grandparents, the festival, Ogerpon, the Loyal Three...nothing was left unsaid.

He rambled for a long time, having finished his drink long ago while you were still savoring yours. But you just calmly listened, feeling absolutely awful for him as he talked about all the times his team got beaten down by this exchange student.

Not only that..but they apparently lied to him as well about meeting the Pokémon he admired. He kept wishing he was good enough to be its trainer--yet he kept failing at every chance to prove himself worthy.

Least to say, this kid sounded like a real jerk.

"...and now all I wanna do is be stronger than them. They got everything I've ever wanted, [y/n]: friends, strong pokemon, Ogerpon's love...the whole village was amazed by what they did, but what about what I did?!" He gripped the glass bottle tightly. "I told them all the Ogre's story was false! But it's like..nothing even changed!"

"You had to leave early, though.." You pointed out. "Things might've changed. They could've left the Three's monument in ruins-"

"They won't. They'll find a way to restore it. All they want is money...and any tourist gullible enough to visit without caring about the truth."

"..jeez, now you're sounding more like Carmine-"

You only meant that as a light joke, yet it only plunged the atmosphere into even deeper tension as your cousin gave you such a cold stare--like he was using Mean Look.

It honestly startled you a bit.

"I-I'm sorry, Kieran.." You apologized quickly. "You're right. Kitakami's banked their entire economy on tourism for generations. They're not gonna let go of that story easily, even if it's all fabricated."

His gaze softened, although now he was looking down at the floor, now absentmindedly petting your shiny Pokémon's fur. "[Y/n]...could I ask you something?"

"Of course. Anything."

"Would you be able to look after my old team?"

In an instant, your heart sank. "What..?"

"Yanmega, Furret, Poliwrath..and all the others..I wanna transfer them into your care permanently. But I'm keeping Dipplin."

"You..wanna surrender your entire team?" Your eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "That's....look, there's ways you can improve upon it. Maybe they just need-"

"NO! You're not listening!" Kieran snapped angrily, clinking the glass harshly onto his desk. "I couldn't win at least ONE battle!! I did everything right! I formed bonds with them, taught them the best moves possible...and for what?! Just so they could hold me back?! Just so I could keep failing?!! I need to change my team, so I don't want any of them anymore."

"Not even Furret?"

"Not even Furret." He repeated with a scowl, gritting his teeth. "It's no good to me if it keeps going down in one hit..."

"Ret!"

Blinking, he looked down at your own Furret, almost forgetting that she was still curled around him. She seemed rather upset, ears folded flat against her head...and he made the mistake of staring at her beady-black eyes for too long, as guilt quickly settled in.

What was he doing?

''m sorry, I didn't mean any offense. I've seen you fight...and you're so much stronger. [Y/n]'s lucky to have you...o-of course, you're a shiny after all...h-haha..." He began to sniffle, his hands trembling as he pet her fur; unlike before, it was failing to calm him down. "It's okay. Y-You'll get to hang out with my Furret from now on...just like the old times. Wouldn't that be fun? You and him..d-don't have to worry about me anymore.."

"Ret-ret?" She felt a drop of water splatter onto her ear, which she flicked off, now looking worried.

You frowned slightly, finally understanding how much your little cousin was in pain...and to learn all of this happened within such a short timespan.

It made you wonder if you could've somehow prevented this.

"Kieran.."

"I-I don't wanna surrender anyone, I don't wanna feel like this. But..what else can I do?" His voice cracked, bowing his head. "I just..w-wanna be like Florian/Juliana..but nobody takes me seriously. They all think I'm going through some "phase". They all treated me like the Ogre..laughing behind my back, calling me weak...getting mad when I try to fight back...and I hate it, [y/n]!! They hurt me and NOBODY CARES!! Not even my own family!!"

"That's not true at all. I care, Kiki..I care so much about you. That hasn't changed." You wrapped your arms around him, letting him clutch your uniform jacket as he hiccupped, burying his face into the fabric. The poor kid was shaking, and you weren't sure if it was in anger or sorrow, or perhaps both.

When you were his age, you remembered dealing with all sorts of difficult feelings, too, and just like him..nobody else seemed to get you. You were mostly alone in coping, yet you had incredible Pokémon who helped you realize there's more to life than battling and winning.

Hopefully, you could help him realize this, too.

"..wh-why couldn't my own sister be this nice to me..?"

"I don't know. You want me to beat her up?"

He was quick to shake his head.

"Okay, okay.." You sighed softly, patting his hair in comfort. "Then...if you wanna become a stronger trainer, I'll do my best to help. I'll take care of your old team, lend you some research articles...whatever you need, just say the word."

"...I-I wanna take on the Elite Four and become champion.." He mumbled. "Maybe then..no one will mock me. Will you still support me then?"

That caught you by surprise, considering it was such an unrealistic goal for him right now. He barely has any double battle experience, yet he was willing to learn it if it meant becoming the best trainer in this academy.

Who were you to say no to him when the rest of the family seemed to turn his back on him? You didn't want him to shut you out, too, so you finally relented after giving it some thought.

"Of course."

"You're not lying, are you?"

"No, I promise."

Those words seemed to get Kieran to settle down, as he pulled out of the hug. His cheeks were a scarlet hue, stained with tears that he hastily wiped away before you could fully see them.

And he immediately insisted on going to the library to begin his research, and you both simply packed up your things and headed out, sending your Furret back into her pokeball.

You hope you made the right choice.

#once again this went off the deep end but hgh #that's how we roll with angsty kiki #clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pokemon sv x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #pokemon kieran #cousin reader #angst #hurt/comfort

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cursedkeyboard · 4 months

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Funnily enough, I've never been too big of a Jason Todd fan. Not because I don't like him, he's a great character, but because DC fails over and over again to give him justice and treat him right.

The number of times alone this boy has been beaten by his adoptive father, betrayed, and forgotten are far too many, far too much.

And the constant portrayal of Jason as this volatile, violent, mindless man is tiresome, lazy in all senses of the word and overdone. I understand that Jason was unstable after he left the pit, I mean, who wouldn't? The trauma of his death alone could've sent anyone crazy, but then to experience everything else afterwards, including having to come to terms that Bruce not only did not kill his murder but also replaced him, leaving Jason to grieve what was once his and what he should've gotten, of course he'd be less than okay.

Again, I'm not the biggest Jason Todd fan but I do wish more people would see just how much good Jason has in his heart, how kind and gentle he can be once his walls are down, when he's no longer constantly analyzing your actions and wondering why would you bother talking to him, getting closer to him.

In my opinion, a man who is so gentle with children, who constantly gives second, third, and fourth chances to people who don't deserve it, who despite it all still wants to make a change and protect the city that failed him, couldn't possibly be anything but the most caring partner. Not just partner, no, also brother and friend.

We all know what he did to Tim and Damian, there are reasons, such as his mental instability at the time and rage, and though those are not excuses, I believe Jason would still drop everything to go save his family. He might complain, he might brood, but family is something important to him even when just looking at them hurts him. He lost his loving mother, stepmother, far too early and it's not hard to imagine that even with all the pain and grief inside his torn heart, the little boy inside Jason still craves the warmth of a family.

Just look at the way he treats his friends, at the way he helps them through situations no one else would, how caring and attentive he is. Jason is gentle, sure, he is rough and mean and he's got blood on his hands, but Jason is made of love.

Jason was made to be loved.

So I think, whether platonic or romantically, Jason would treat you so well. He'd scold you for not wearing warm clothes during winter, "We're in Gotham, you fucking moron, you wanna freeze to death?", all while wrapping you with his jacket or scarf. He'd make sure you're eating at least something every day, and if not, he would immediately put you under his arm, maybe over his shoulder, and take you to the nearest food chain he could find, "I don't want to hear you complaining about headaches when all you had today was a cup of coffee and gum.".

Lord, he'd be torn between freaking out and being extremely annoyed that you got hurt, be it at work, a fight, or just out of clumsiness. But no matter what, his hands would always be so, so gentle when touching you. The tip of his fingers brushing under the injury, as light as a breeze, his other hand holding the back of your neck, or your bicep, perhaps even your hand just to make sure you're there, with him.

Jason would both hush you gently, "I know, sweetheart, we're almost done.", and also tease because he's a little shit at heart, "If you had a little more awareness than a ten year old this wouldn't have happened, idiot."

And physical touches? Oh, love, Jason is a sucker for intimacy.

I know for a fact he wouldn't be comfortable for a long time with anyone in his personal space due to the torture he went through. The trauma would make his skin crawl any time someone got too close or brushed past him, he'd hate it so much because it makes him weak but also because he can't let anyone try to hug him without feeling sick to his stomach.

And with you it's no different. It would take a long time, a lot of trust being built up, conflict and confessions, maybe he'd even open up to you with his head on your lap as you brushed his hair softly, a big, big step for him after years of not letting anyone close. He'd tell you about the Joker, about having hope in Bruce, about his biological mother. And he'd feel vulnerable like a child when you wipe his tears gently without a word.

Once he starts craving your touch, though, regardless if you two have a platonic or romantic relationship, Jason is putty in your hands. Forehead kisses when you part ways, cuddling on the couch while he reads and you're on your phone, thighs touching when sitting close, even a little bit of hand holding when he's stressed and needs to play with your fingers.

He's like a big cat that's constantly making his way onto your chest, stealing your breath and making biscuits on your skin, making sure you're giving him sufficient pats every day.

It's a little part of him that he's barely able to properly allow space for. There's still so much hurt in Jason, so much confusion and desperation, hatred and upset, that he'd probably still close off sometimes, try acting tough so you'd see how fucked up he is, how he's not truly worth of your love.

And yet.

And yet all it'd take for him to go soft and pliant in your hands would be a single touch, cupping his cheeks, brushing his skin softly with your thumbs, right under his pretty emerald eyes, making sure his gaze is on you and only you. Just like that, he'd slump his shoulders and bring you into his arms, breathing a sigh of relief and squeezing you close, your heartbeats synching.

He wouldn't remember when he started feeling safest in your arms but it'd feel like it was since forever. Like there was no one else but you.

Jason was made to be loved, though he is a little broken and a little tainted, lost like a child and hateful like a sinner, your love might just be his salvation, something he's greedy for, selfish for, even when he's so hesitant of somehow hurting you.

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you #red hood x reader #gender neutral reader #my ode to jason todd because my best friend is obsessed with him

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alwritey-aphrodite · 4 months

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PLEASE I’M BEGGING FOR MORE ARRANGED MARRIAGE SEJANUS I AM OBSESSED WITH HIM AND THE WAY YOU WRITE HIM I NEED THAT SWEET BOY BADLY (also i just love your writing in general!!!)

Here’s part one and part two :) pls feel free to send in more for these two I love them so much

It seems like every weekend, your parents are making up an event just to get you and Sejanus together. You’d explained to them that you talk to him all the time, that you see him every day at the academy, but they’re insistent on doing things properly, or at least doing things the way they envision them. The dresses and the food and the drinks you sneak are enjoyable, and you’re starting to find yourself craving Sejanus’s presence, but everything else about these parties makes you want to gouge your own eyes out.

When you tell him this as he drops you off after your classes, Sejanus just laughs, pushing at your shoulder slightly in a way he’s done a few times before. The more time you spend together, the more you notice Sejanus touching you, like he just wants to be as close to you as possible. It’s never anything your parents would deem unseemly, and the innocence of it all makes you giddy.

The gentle shove must have given you a contact high, because you find yourself squeezing his hand goodbye as you slip behind your heavy front door, only to be immediately whisked away to begin getting ready for the evening, leaving you no time to think wistfully about Sejanus, the boy all but driven from your mind as you help your mother move decorations and display silverware and then disappear to make yourself presentable up to your parents standards.

Later, the moment you lay eyes on Sejanus, you make a beeline through the room, looping your arm with his and tugging him from the overcrowded party. It’s a little shocking how quickly Sejanus has become such a fixture in your life. He’s always been a sweet, gentle boy, and as much as you didn’t mind talking to him before, you find yourself scanning every room you enter for his familiar curly head.

When you’re with him, giggling and rushing up the stairs before a party guest or your parents catch you, you’re able to forget about the fact that your life is ending even as it’s supposed to be just beginning. Sejanus will be a good husband, you’re sure of that, but you can’t help but be resentful of the circumstances, can’t help but hate the fact that he’ll go off to university and follow in his fathers footsteps, getting a high paying, well respected job, while you stay home and raise a brood of children. You like children, and you wouldn’t mind being a mother, but you know that being reduced to someone who gives birth and stays home isn’t the life for you.

Looking at Sejanus, at the way he stares at you like you’re something magnificent, something worthy of worship, you can imagine a different life. Maybe, if you’re lucky, times will change or you’ll forge your own path, but until then, you don’t mind having Sejanus at your side, in your corner, knowing he’ll support every decision you make.

When you reach the roof, an area of your house you definitely are not allowed to access, you pull a small bottle from inside your dress, grinning as Sejanus shakes his head.

“You know, your father is going to start noticing his collection is growing smaller,” he quips, even as he takes the bottle right out of your hands.

“I always replace them,” you retort, leaning your elbows against the short wall that keeps you from tumbling to your death.

Even though it sometimes seems like the two of you will never run out of things to talk about, you’re both silent, soaking in the quiet night air and the view from the top of your estate. You start feeling antsy, though, strange feelings tangling in your gut and you’re desperate for some relief.

“Do you ever get worried? About all of this?” You ask, as vaguely as you can manage, chipping away at the armor you’d so carefully crafted your entire life. Even as you and Sejanus spent more and more time together, you kept yourself safely guarded, ready to turn and run and fight if necessary.

Now, though, you feel yourself growing tired, tired of being so strong and defiant and brave all the time. It might be nice to have someone hold you up for a while, let you regain your strength. You’ve always been in a position of power with Sejanus, always been able to make him blush and stutter and momentarily shut down with just a glance, and you like the way that makes you feel, you like being in control. And, it doesn’t hurt that he looks breathtakingly stunning every time he blushes, cheeks turning pink and dimples deepening in a way that’s so adorable you almost lose your cool every time.

“I’m worried all the time, about everything,” Sejanus tells you earnestly, eyes painted with something deeper than you’d care to believe. He’s always so lovely, with his dimples and his curls and his deep brown eyes, but it’s his heart, his soul, that sends you spiraling. It shouldn’t be fair that someone so beautiful is so completely wonderful, in every possible way.

“It’s nice to have you here,” you tell him, trying your very hardest to regain your footing while hoping he understands what you’re trying to say, what you can’t say yet. To your delight, you can see the way his cheeks redden in the glow of the moonlight, and you know he understands what you mean, and that you’re back where you’re meant to be, teasing Sejanus until he becomes a blushing mess.

Based on the way he reaches for the bottle again, grinning, you’re sure he enjoys this game just as much as you do.

Tagging @beybaldes because I love her and I love that she loves these babies as much as me

#sejanus plinth #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus plinth fanfiction #sejanus x reader #sejanus x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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venus-haze · 11 months

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Homelander x Supervillain!Reader Headcanons

Note: Mildly fem-coded reader, but no other descriptors are used. This is mostly from Homelander's perspective. I always thought it was interesting how apart from the "superterrorist" arc in season one (and into season two), supervillains aren't really a thing in The Boys universe, pretty much everyone with superpowers is affiliated with Vought.

Warnings: Violence, some mentions of sex, Homelander being Homelander. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Your powers emerge later in life, so you aren’t one of the many lauded child prodigies who accidentally burned down their own birthday parties or took out a school bus, but almost as soon as you spit at a cat-caller and the side of his car melted from the acid, Vought had its eye on you

Unfortunately for them, you aren’t interested in the slightest. The money’s good, but signing your life away to a mysterious corporation was never in the cards for you. Why let a bunch of suits call the shots when you were the one with powers? Pretty soon you’re melting bank vaults, wreaking general havoc, and living on the run. You love every minute of it

Homelander knows he can take you on, but to his shock and fury, he finds himself in a meeting with Stilwell and the marketing team who tell him that having a supervillain “arch-enemy” would further mythologize him. As much as people love having someone to root for, they’re just as intrigued by the evil thing that goes bump in the night. Besides, you mostly damage property, not people, so they figure you’re not too much of a threat to the general public

He thinks it’s ridiculous, not letting him laser you in half or snap your neck makes him look weak, or even worse, that you’re as strong as he is. The first time he takes you on, you spit at him as a Hail Mary, and to both of your shock, he hisses in pain and his skin blisters–comparatively mild to the outright bone-melting your toxin was capable of, but it cements your space in his mind as his arch-enemy

To his frustration, the suits at Vought are right, social media posts that mention you in regard to Homelander get a lot of engagement and the general public sees him even more as an otherworldly protector figure

You don’t have a supe name, but Vought dubs you ‘Rosethorn’ because you’re “beautiful yet deadly.” They slap your face on comic books that fly off the shelves. You find it ironic that Vought still finds a way to make money off of you despite your refusal to work with them

Homelander isn’t nearly as amused. The first time he sees one of the Homelander Vs. Rosethorn comics he sees red. “More like thorn in my fucking side,” he growls at the cartoonified version of you. He resents you for taking half of his spotlight, but part of him knows his resentment comes from the fact that you don’t have to answer to anyone. You do whatever the hell you want, and some people regard you as a kind of anti-hero rather than an outright villain. He doesn’t understand, you’re a criminal. You rob, cheat, and steal, and just because you hand out fistfuls of dollars every once in a while, you’re turned into some kind of underground folk hero?

Social media is buzzing with theories that you’re actually a Vought plant to make Homelander look good or that you’re stronger than him and holding back. Naturally, people begin shipping you because of course they do. He has mixed feelings the first time he sees #Roselander trending on Twitter. It doesn’t help that sometimes you leave notes at your crimes scenes that read ‘Give Homelander my regards, XO’

Despite the internet frenzy and Vought marketing, you and Homelander have only been face to face a few times following the first encounter, each one giving more fuel to Homelander’s fire as he broods, stewing in his resentment toward you. You laugh at him, taunt him, literally spit at him, and he can’t do shit because Vought says not to

He definitely fantasizes about hate-fucking you, they’re all extremely deranged and elaborate. Overall, he has a lot of really complicated emotions when it comes to you. There’s some underlying affection that he’ll deny to anyone who asks. Sometimes he lets his mind wander, and in the ideal situation you’d reform and join Vought and–who the fuck is he kidding, part of him wants to break the invisible chain that keeps him tethered to Vought and see if the grass is really greener on the other side

Homelander decides he’s going to end your reign of terror once and for all when Vought indicates they want supes in the military. They now think your existence is just one of the barriers standing in the way of that, making the other Vought supes, but especially him look weak and incapable. With you out of the way, it’ll show their supes can handle military missions

Easier said than done, because when he finally corners you, ready to laser you in half like he should have all those years ago, he hesitates, and that’s all it takes for you to pounce

“Why do you let them tell you what to do? You’re stronger than them. Why do they call the shots?” you ask, and he doesn’t miss the conniving ass twinkle in your eye. He knows what you’re doing, and his gloved fists ball up at his side as everything in him screams to just kill you already. He knows you’re right. He’s the one with the real power, but he lets them order him around like a dog

“Shut the fuck up,” he hisses through clenched teeth that he wishes were clamped around your throat–except he doesn’t, not really. You’re giving him an out, but he can’t take it, he’s too afraid to. After all, who is he if he’s not The Homelander?

You give him a sad smile, the kind old friends give to each other in movies when they see each other for the last time. He lets out a shaky breath. He won’t miss you. He won’t even think about you once Madelyn hears what he’s done and he gets supes into the military and Vought a lucrative contract with the Department of Defense. Another success for Homelander

“I really do like you,” you say. “I just wanted you to know that before you kill me.” Your heartbeat is steady, gaze locked in on his glowing red eyes. No one’s ever looked him in the eye upon facing their certain death from him before

He grabs your face, resisting the urge to squeeze it hard enough to break your jaw, “You’re a real piece of work. I don’t answer to anyone, got that, Rosethorn?”

You whisper your name to him, your real name, and he repeats it softly before letting go of your face and taking an unsteady step back. “You owe me. I didn’t kill you, and now you owe me.” You nod in understanding before disappearing into the night

He returns to Vought covered in blood, claiming victory over his arch-enemy once and for all. He never played poker, but you’re an ace up his sleeve if he could ever have one

#homelander x reader #homelander headcanons #homelander x you #the boys x reader #the boys headcanons #the boys x you #homelander #the boys tv #the boys amazon

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year

Text

The Same Situation | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @mrsalwayswrite

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Tommy's so worried about Freddie Thorne being with his sister, Ada, that he doesn't even realize that he himself is in just about the same situation with Freddie's sister, (Y/N). What happens when Freddie finds out that the same thing is happening on the flip side of it all?

Warnings: language, death threats, weapons

Word Count: 3504

A/N: I strayed a bit from canon on this one to make it make sense, so I hope that that’s fine. I didn’t expect for it to turn out this good, but I have to say that I’m pretty pleased with it. The italicized dialogue comes right from the show. Enjoy:)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

(Y/N) was working on tidying up the displays at her family's bakery when the shop's main door opened. She didn't even need to look up to know who it was; she recognized the sound of his shoes on the hardwood. "Tommy! Where've you been these past few days?" She asked as she looked up. But Tommy Shelby didn't respond. Instead he kept walking.

(Y/N) scoffed as she set down the cake she had so that she could follow the man into the back area of the bakery. "What's going on, Tommy?" she asked him another question, hoping to gain an answer from him this time. But he still said nothing. Instead he dropped his peaked cap onto the counter, the razor blades sewn into it clanging off of the metallic surface, and fished his pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of the jacket he had on. "You know you can't smoke in here," (Y/N) pointed out, her hands falling onto her hips.

That was the sentence that finally made Tommy look at her. He'd frozen with the cigarette between his lips and an ablaze match just about ready to light it. (Y/N) raised her eyebrows at him, as if she was daring him to go ahead and disregard her statement. They held each other's gaze for a few moments before Tommy hissed from the fire licking his fingertips. He quickly shook out the match and tossed it into the sink before he took the cigarette from between his lips and put it back into its packet with a sigh.

"Care to tell me what's gotten into you?" (Y/N) asked him then, her one eyebrow still quirked.

"It's just one problem after a-fucking-nother," he mumbled, his lips pursing together in a brooding scowl.

"Well that answer told me everything," she pointed out, a slight bit of sarcasm laced into her words.

"Ada's pregnant," he forced out then, running a stressed hand over his face after he spoke.

"She is?" she responded, her eyes wide as shock filled her features, "who...who is...?"

"It's Freddie," Tommy hated the fact that those two words tasted like poison as he said them, "it's fucking Freddie," he added then for dramatic measure, the infuriation now fully present in his voice.

"My brother?" (Y/N) was still only asking questions, her shock still too prevalent for her to get past thinking only the basics. "M...my brother got your sister pregnant?" The words sounded so foreign to say.

"Yes, yes he fucking did," he was still fuming. "And now I'm going to fucking kill him," he added before he grabbed his cap and began walking towards (Y/N), who was standing in the archway that led to the exit.

"Woah, woah...you're going to do what?" (Y/N)'s voice was assertive, but it wasn't enough to get Tommy to stop. What was though, was her placing her hand on his chest and putting pressure against him as he walked up to her. "You're not going anywhere in this state of mind, Thomas Shelby," she told him, her eyes locked onto his, her gaze steely and serious, "and you'd be foolish to think that I'd let you go and kill my brother just because you're unhappy with what he's done. Freddie's not the best of men, but he's..."

"Tell me what he is, (Y/N), because right now I can only see a man who needs to be dealt with," Tommy cut into her statement, tension still evident in his words. He was just a few moments shy from foaming at the mouth here. He needed to get to Freddie and he needed to deal with this now.

(Y/N)'s eyebrows raised as she heard what he had to say, and, once again, surprise was now etched across her face, "It's rich of you to say that about him when you're in the same situation as he is," she said to him.

Now it was Tommy's turn to be confused. "What?" he asked her, his anger fizzling out slightly as he furrowed his brows.

"Are you forgetting about you and I?" she queried, her mouth slightly agape as she waited for his answer. He didn't give one, so she continued, "are you forgetting that we've been seeing each other since you came back from France? Are you forgetting that Freddie knows not one thing about us? You'd be a hypocrite if you were to go and strike him down for being in a situation that is almost exactly identical to the one you're currently in."

(Y/N) held his gaze as she finished her monologue, watching him intently for what he'd give as an answer. He blinked a few times as he thought her words over. His mouth opened and shut then before he let out a sigh and dropped his gaze from hers, clearly defeated now. "It's not that simple when you see it that way, is it?" she remarked, her hand finally dropping from his chest because he'd stopped putting pressure against it.

"I'm still fucking angry at him," he muttered in a disgruntled tone.

"Sure you are...and you have a right to be. That's your sister; you're meant to protect her. But I think I have a little bit of insight into what Ada was thinking, and let me tell you...the move wasn't made only on Freddie's part," she continued to try to reason with him, the slightest smirk forming on her face as she finished her statement. Tommy looked up as she said her final words, and upon seeing the smirk, he shot her the 'don't you even start' look. She held her hands up in surrender as the smile overtook her features. "What are you going to do now?" she asked him after a few moments had passed.

"I'm going to go and find a way to deal with this situation," he responded as he placed his peaked cap atop his head before tugging it down into its proper spot.

"And I trust that that solution will ensure that everyone stays alive?" she checked with him, her eyebrows raising as she spoke.

Tommy pursed his lips at her statement, thinking it over for a moment before he cut the tension by nodding and exhaling a sigh. "It'll take longer for me to figure out, but I'll see it through so that is the case," he told her, his eyes locked onto hers.

"You've given me your word, so now you must stick to it," she reminded him.

"When have I ever broken my word to you?" he questioned her, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Let's not start with that, Tommy Shelby," she said to him, her smile present as he exhaled a breath of a laugh at her statement.

"I'll see you later," he deflected the previous topic as he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

"I mean it," she stressed as they pulled away, trying to hold a serious look, but her smile was obviously breaking through.

"You have my word," he promised her again, kissing her lips one more time before she finally stepped aside and let him exit the backroom.

She turned to watch him walk out of the bakery, holding in her sigh until the door shut behind him. Men, she thought to herself as she shook her head, it's completely fine when they're in the midst of it, but if someone steps over the line they've already crossed, then there'll be hell to pay.

——

(Y/N)'s night had been pretty good so far. Nothing drastic came out of Tommy's blow up - besides the fact that Freddie declined his train ticket out of Birmingham and instead proposed to Ada. Of course, that struck a chord within Tommy, (Y/N) got an earful about it after he found out, but everyone was still alive. What she didn't know was that the caliber of her night was going to go down drastically the second she entered the small, dingy apartment that she shared with her brother.

Freddie was standing by the desk that was pushed up against the far wall of the apartment's main room. (Y/N) thought nothing of it, until he turned to face her with what looked to be a stack of papers in his hand. "Would you care to explain what these are to me?" he asked her as he shook the papers slightly for effect.

"What are they?" (Y/N) asked for some details. All she could see was that he was holding a stack of white paper.

"They're letters," he gave her more context.

"Ok...?" she asked for even more details. Everyone writes letters...why was he getting so worked up over these?

"They're letters from Tommy Shelby; from the war," he finally brought the hammer down, his words coming out in a cross manner.

(Y/N) sighed as she heard what her brother had to say. "I'm not allowed to write to someone who we've known since grade school?" she asked him, her eyebrows raising.

"Not in this manner you aren't," he rebuked, his voice raising slightly as his frustration became more pronounced.

"Well what was I to do? No one else was writing to me, Freddie. I tried you multiple times and got nothing! Tommy responded to me. He was my lifeline while you were all away," she raised her voice with his, showing him that she wasn't going to bow out of the argument.

"There's writing to him, and then there's forming a well-pronounced relationship with him, (Y/N). I'm never going to unread some of the things that were written here!" Freddie countered, waving the letters in front of her again.

"You shouldn't have been reading them in the first place!" (Y/N) exclaimed, her eyes wide as she managed to snatch them out of his hands. She did a quick check of them, breathing the slightest sigh of relief when she found that they were all accounted for. These letters meant a great deal to her. They were the only things that made her smile during the dark years of war, and now they served as a reminder of the beginning of the relationship that she now shared with Tommy. "Why were you going through my drawer anyway, Freddie?" she asked him then, a glare present on her face.

"Ada heard talk..." he started.

(Y/N) quickly cut him off. "Oh...Ada," she over-exaggerated the words, rolling her eyes as she heard her brother huff.

"She heard talk that Tommy'd only did what he did for us because of the situation he was in. It got me thinking, and it led me to these letters," he continued with his explanation, motioning to the letters she was holding then.

"That still doesn't give me good reason to understand why you decided to go searching through my drawer of the desk," (Y/N) pointed out. Sure, Tommy being in a 'situation' could have possibly got him thinking; she wasn't going to discredit her brother's brain, but how he pieced it together and figured out she had these letters stashed away just wasn't computing for her.

"That doesn't fucking matter, (Y/N). You've been going around behind my back with him even after you've known that we're at odds with each other. That's uncalled for and it's something I won't fucking have anymore!" he disregarded her statement, instead letting his frustration get the best of him and shine through in his words.

(Y/N) looked at him for a few moments, digesting what he'd just said to her. She tried to decide which way she should go about this situation; bring in reason? Or let him have it? She was so close to choosing the latter. "It's a bit rich of you to be saying this considering you're doing the exact same thing with Ada...well you were trying to, until Tommy found out you got her pregnant," she finally gave her response. If it were any other time, she'd laugh at the fact that she was saying the exact same statement to the other side of the equation just weeks apart. But she kept a straight face now.

There was the slightest change in Freddie's composure after he heard these words. But yet he pushed on. "That doesn't change the fact that he's crossed the fucking line. I ought to put a bullet in his head for even thinking of you in that way!" he let his anger prevail, his voice raised yet again.

"And what good will that do? I told him this when he was thinking the same thing, and I'll have no remorse in telling you the same: dealing with him in this manner will make you an outright hypocrite because you are doing the exact same thing with his sister. In a way, you'd be unjustifying your situation by dealing with mine in such a way."

Silence fell between the two siblings after (Y/N) finished her piece. Both were staring at each other, and tension was building around them to the point that it could be cut with a knife. Freddie made the first move, breaking his gaze as he began walking to the door. (Y/N)'s voice stopped him before he could open it. "You're not going to find him because he's gone for the weekend...figuring out some deal with some fucking Inspector because you don't want to take your stubborn ass out of the picture," she told him, knowing exactly what he was about to go and do.

Her words made Freddie freeze. He didn't say anything, but instead stared at her for a moment longer before finally opening the door and exiting the apartment. (Y/N) couldn't help but exhale a sigh once she was alone. Men, she thought as she shook her head. Now she'd have to figure out a way to make sure that both her brother and her lover would make it out of this situation alive. Thankfully Tommy was out of the city for the weekend, and that Freddie knew about the potential of him getting caught if he went anywhere close to that Inspector at the moment.

——

"How did I know that the two of you would come here the very first chance you had?" (Y/N) questioned the two men that were currently pointing their revolvers at each other. She confidently walked up to them, seeing only their eyes shift over in the direction she was coming from. Their stances stayed unwavering; it was going to take more than a simple statement.

Tommy spoke first. "What're you doing here, (Y/N)?" he asked her, his eyes still fixed on his target that was lying below him.

"I'm making sure that neither of you do something stupid," she answered him as she stopped a few paces away from where their stand-off was occurring.

"I won't let him fuck up my sister's life for his cause," Tommy said then, his finger toying with the trigger as he spoke. (Y/N) didn't know what to say. The both of them had their weapons fixed on each other, and the tension was almost palpable around them.

Thankfully (Y/N) didn't need to do any negotiating. After a few moments, Freddie dropped his gun to the ground. "My God..." he started, a sigh escaping with his words, "you actually believe that," his next sentence was spoken as a statement, as it was made pretty obvious by Tommy where his thoughts were at the moment, "I love her, Tommy. I loved her since she was nine and I was twelve. And she loves me the same," he said then, the slightest smile creeping onto his lips as he spoke.

Tommy still kept his revolver fixed on its target, his gaze unwavering as he heard what his ex-best friend had to say. (Y/N) watched with her breath held as Freddie then stood from the ground. Tommy didn't lower his arm until Freddie took two steps so that they'd be standing face to face with each other.

"Do you even know the word?" Freddie queried, his eyes locked onto Tommy's, "because I can say the same thing about you with (Y/N); using her for your fucking gain, like she's just some dispensable object," he added then, his words spoken with a harshness.

"Freddie..." (Y/N) cut into their stand off with a warning tone.

"No, (Y/N). He needs to fucking hear this," Freddie brushed his sister off, "he needs to fucking know that this can't be a two way street; that he can't damn me for what he thinks I'm doing and then go and do the exact same," he spoke these next lines to Tommy, as if he was trying to get him to see sense in it all.

"Then you must know that we are in love too," (Y/N) spoke up after a few more tense moments had passed. This made Freddie break his gaze from Tommy to look over at (Y/N). She could tell just by his eyes that he was shocked by the news. "You heard me right," (Y/N) doubled down, moving closer to the two of them before she continued, "we are in love; have been since 1917, when we were writing letters to each other. He professed it to me the moment he found me at the apartment and I said it back all the same. You weren't there when it happened, Freddie, because you'd gone to meet Ada under that bridge you always find yourselves under," (Y/N) spelled it out for her brother, watching as his jaw went slightly slack. (Y/N) fought the smirk that was trying to form on her face. She loved having the upper hand. "That's right, I know about that. Us women, we talk, and Ada told me everything. I'm happy for the two of you, I see your relationship for what it is. I only hope that you both can stop patronizing each other and let it lie," she ended her statement by looking between the both of them.

The two men looked at each other again, the tension arising between them again. Freddie was the one to break the silence. "I don't know where you stand, but I will accept you and (Y/N) being together," he said, being the bigger person and the one to bury the hatchet first. (Y/N) wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but she knew she couldn't yet. Not with the way that Tommy was still staring her brother down. She silently hoped that he'd choose peace as well.

"I will accept you and Ada being together, but if you do anything to hurt her, it will be the end of you," Tommy finally conceded, but not before throwing one last threat into the mix.

Nothing else was said then as the two men continued to stare at each other. (Y/N) knew what this was. Neither wanted to make the first move. So she stepped into their staring contest. "Freddie, why don't you go find Ada. She was telling me earlier about some pain that she was having. She may need you," (Y/N) tried to reason with her brother, pushing on his chest slightly so that he would get the cue that she wanted him to back away from the situation. This did the trick in getting Freddie's gaze off of Tommy, and (Y/N) watched it soften as his eyes found hers. He said nothing, and only nodded before he stepped away and began to leave the old warehouse building.

(Y/N) turned to Tommy once the other man was out of sight. "I'm sure you would have killed one another had I not shown up," she broke their silence, her hand fiddling with the lapel of his jacket as she focused her eyes on his chest.

"He's not worth it," Tommy responded, shaking his head slightly.

"Sure seemed like he was when I got here," (Y/N) replied, her eyes rising to meet his. She was able to see the starting of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"He's not worth it, but you are," he flipped his words around, the second half of his statement succeeding in making (Y/N)'s cheeks heat up.

"You're a sap, Tommy Shelby," she teased him, smacking his chest gently, her words making his smirk appear full on his lips. She smiled back at him as she took hold of his lapels and pulled him closer to her so that she could press her lips to his. "You're a sap, and I love you," she whispered against his lips, feeling him smile against hers at her words. Tommy said nothing in response, but instead pulled her in for another kiss; a kiss that perfectly conveyed how he felt towards her.

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