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mariel-g · 1 year

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Fumbled the bag for Gojo Satoru (part 1)

Dom fem! reader x Gojo Satoru

warnings: dub-con, pain kink, degredation, mean & lowkey obsessed reader, cumplay (sorta)- not proof read

MINORS DNI SILLY GALS

People often describe Gojo in combat as a ruthless animal, a man whose morals are non-existent when it comes to exorcising curses. Criminals and curses alike nervously speak of his name as if he were Satan himself and his fellow jujutsu sorcerers regard his abilities with respect.

I wonder what they would think if they saw him now.

On top of a roof in the back alleys of Tokyo you had him on his back with you by his side, panting. His beautiful cock was in your hand, the tip dripping with pre cum and flushed red with frustration- much the same way his cheeks were flushed red with embarrassment.

“Aren’t you meant to be the strongest?” You drawled, watching the way his lips parted in a silent moan when you lightly dragged your fingers over his dick. “I expected more from you.”

“How did you get through my infinity?” He rasped, trying to inch away from you when you moved to straddle his waist.

You smiled a secret smile. “I have my ways.”

Really, you weren’t planning to run into Gojo Satoru. As a bounty hunter who also happened to be a curse user, you were on no one’s side but your own and trying to fight the strongest jujutsu sorcerer wasn’t really your idea of fun on a Friday night. You were instead silently trailing after the boy who had the misfortune of being the host to the king of curses. It would’ve been an easy kill, and you’d have walked away $10 million yen richer for it.

However the easy cash was spilled down the drain when Gojo appeared next to the kid, and being the amazing mentor he was, he told Itadori to go on ahead of him while staring straight at you.

To be honest you easily could’ve slipped from Gojo’s sight and continued stalking the kid. Yet when you looked at him your plans instantly changed. His lips were too full and kissable, his eyes too big and blue, and his stature too lean and tall for you not to have him. And he was too cocky and self-assured for you not to take his ego down a couple pegs as you do.

“Truly, it’s so pathetic how quickly I overpowered you Gojo.” You let go of his heavy dick, smiling a little at the sound it made as it fell against his abdomen. “You’re so hard, it’s almost like you enjoy being on your back, hm? Or maybe you just enjoy being weak.”

A full body shudder ran over him, causing you to raise your eyebrow. “It’s definitely the latter then.” His hands were tied by his blindfold, and you figured that him being left dissatisfied and humiliated would be more than enough to make up for the financial loss today. But you wanted more.

You settled your clothed pussy over his exposed cock, gasping at how it seemed to demand your attention. His tip probed against your clit, and you moaned a little. He was so turned on that his precum soaked through your pants.

You glanced up at his face and smirked, his head was turned to the side, buried into the crook of his arm while he bit his lip. Receiving this reaction from him after all you did was sit made you chuckle.

“Gojo…actually no, Satoru” the tips of his ears reddened at the usage of his first name “Aren’t you like, a playboy extraordinaire?” You grinded down, trailing your pussy all the way up and down his cock. “Have you ever been used as a dildo Satoru?”

You frowned when you got no response other than a strangled gasp. “Oi, did you hear me?”

You leaned forward and grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I said, have you ever been used as a dildo before?” You ground down harder and was pleased when his eyes rolled back in his head, and he let out a strangled whimper.

“No, girls beg for me to use them as flashlights.”

You tilted your head at him, pretending to think deeply about his cocky response.

“Well then, I suppose today will be like your first time.”

Quickly, you momentarily removed your pussy from his dick to strip off your pants and grinned at the small noise of protest he made.

“God, you’re such a slut” you laughed. “Don’t worry Satoru, I’ll take good care of you.”

This time, when you settled on him you could feel every vein and ridge against your sensitive pussy as you once again smeared your wetness from his tip to the base of his cock.

“Do you want to be inside me?” You asked breathlessly.

He gave you a slow nod as he peered at you from under his lashes. He’s so sweet like this, when he can only use his annoying pretty mouth to moan.

You landed a harsh slap across his face.

“Satoru, you know that I like being answered with words.”

“I-yes, I want to be inside you.” He said hoarsely.

“Prove it.”

Suddenly, he started moving under you wildly. His moans increased in frequency and crescendo as he started desperately humping his aching cock against you.

God he’s so beautiful. His eyes glittered with a sheen of tears and his lips were shaped in an O as he looked anywhere but your face. Humiliation is such a stunning look on him.

Reaching back you fondled his balls with one hand while your other pushed up his shirt to reveal his torso while he worked, admiring the way his abs contracted and tensed with each thrust against your pussy. You moaned when he angled his hips in a way that had his cock pressing against your clit with each thrust and squeezed his balls lightly in response.

He moaned and threw his head back, hands gripping into the bind of his blindfold.

“Fuck yes, do that again.”

“This?”

You squeezed his balls harder and raised an eyebrow in disbelief when his groans turned guttural and his thrusting irregular.

“Wow, the strongest enjoys pain as much as the next street whore.” You said condescendingly, your disbelief turning into amazement when your degrading words and a harsh tug to his balls made his body shudder with the tide of an orgasm.

His toes curled and eyes rolled back as his thrusting turned into involuntary jerks as rope after rope of thick cum spilled onto his stomach and your clit.

“You good for nothing slut” you said, unsure if you were turned on by how subby and desperate he was or enraged at the fact you didn’t even get to orgasm “who said you were allowed to cum?”

He let out a small, defeated whimper. “I-I’m sorry it’s just when you call me those names and look at me like that I- fuck-“ he babbled on and on and on. You tuned him out, trying to think about how to satisfy yourself now. Your trusty vibrator at home can’t satisfy the aching need deep within your pussy.

“- It’s just that when you slapped me I kind of lost control, I could easy break out of this bind I was just-“

“Shut up for a second” you interrupted. “I’m going to sit on your face.”

He immediately quieted.

You held eye contact with him as you slowly spread your legs, giving him a full view of your weeping cunt.

“You’ve been extremely useless, Satoru” you said disappointedly “you haven’t satisfied me yet.”

You coated your fingers with his cum and spread it over your clit, using it as lube as you rubbed your clit with your fingers.

At the site of you masturbating with his cum Gojo’s breath quickened, and his eyes stayed glued to your cunt as you continued to pleasure yourself. The tortured look on his face made you bite your lip, giving up your plans were so worth it.

His dick was straining against your thigh and his hips started to timidly move again. You glared at him and unmounted, smiling in retribution at the annoyed sound he made when his hips humped nothing but air.

“Don’t get sassy with me now, let’s not forget about your pathetic little cock failed to pleasure me, what will the tabloids think when they find out their precious Gojo isn’t the sex god everyone makes him out to be?”

A shocked moan escaped him.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

Before he could say something in retort you aligned your pussy with his face, allowing him to get a close up view at how your pussy clenched around nothing as you circled your clit. His gaze instantly trained on it, his eyes tracking the movements of your hand as if mesmerised.

“Do you want to taste?”

His tongue darted out to lick his lips. “Yes.”

When you made no attempt to sit your pussy down on his face, he did it for you. He half sat up to place a kiss on your clit, and then broke out of the binds of his blindfold to reach up and drag your thighs towards his face.

So, he really could break out of your binding sorcery; wonder why he didn’t do it sooner. You smirked, sure that you already know the reason.

You ran your fingers through his hair as his tongue started to lap against you.

“Oh Satoru yes,” you hissed, tugging at his hair as you started to grind against his face in tandem with the strokes of his tongue. “You’re such a good slut for me.”

His eyes rolled back at the dirtiness of your words, sure he was going to cum just from your degradation of him alone. His tongue worked faster, alternating between sucking on your clit and thrusting inside you as he trailed one hand down his abdomen to grip his cock.

“Don’t you dare.”

He instantly released his cock at your admonishing words but growled in annoyance.

Yeah, welcome to the club.

You ground your pussy against him harder, grabbing at his hair in both hands as you rode his face. His hands massaged your thighs, ass, and trailed up to your chest (long ass arms alright) while he desperately moaned and whimpered into your pussy.

“I love it when you use me like this.” He admitted. He switched from sucking on your clit to thrusting his tongue inside you like a dick and you lost it. The build up of pleasure overflowed as the waves of an orgasm took over your body. Faintly, you could feel Gojo’s fingers digging into your thighs as your pussy squeezed around his tongue, but you didn’t care. If he couldn’t talk for a week after this it’d be a blessing to everyone around him.

“Fuck Satoru.” When the orgasm subsided, you slowly stood up as his tongue withdrew from your cunt. “I suppose the media hasn’t been lying about you…that much.”

He rolled his eyes and sat up. “You caught me on an off day and ow- fyi, I think you bruised my tongue.” What a shame, he could still talk.

“I want to strike a deal with you.” You crouched down to be eye level with him still sat on the ground. “I won’t kill Itadori…” his face darkens “…as long as you promise to be mine.”

“Uh, no, this was a great rendezvous but I’m not into monogamy, especially not with someone who tried to kill my student.”

You cupped his face with both hands and rubbed your finger back and forth across his pink bottom lip. “Satoru, if only you had a choice.”

You pressed a heated kiss to his lips, humming at the taste of sugar, strawberry, and matcha.

“You taste good as well, you can call me y/n.” you murmured against his lips.

A calculating look entered his eye before it vanished, replaced by irritated submissiveness. He’s a dangerous one.

“Can I cum?”

You glanced down at his neglected dick, the head the deepest pink you’d ever seen and pondered. It looked so delicious and keen for your attention, leaking an abundance of precum once again just for you. But it was time for you to be getting home.

“No.”

You pressed your fingers to his head and knocked him out.

Using his fingerprint, you opened his phone that was stuffed in his jacket pocket and called the first available number; ‘Nanamin.’

“Hey, you might want to collect your friend” you said, rattling off the address to the other person on the line before hanging up.

You glanced at Satoru’s unconscious form and felt a small chill. You had the distinct feeling that although right now you’re the hunter, you may soon become the prey.

You cleaned him up and rearranged his clothes before silently slipping off the roof.

#gojo x reader #dom reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #sub gojo #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

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arielgobuss · 4 months

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Here is the preview of chapter 33 of Desiderium Intimum 'Let's get a party!"

When Harry entered the Great Hall, he immediately noticed one thing - Snape wasn't here… again. He hadn't seen him either at breakfast or at lunch, or at this damned dinner.

There were only two days of school left before Christmas break. The students were talking excitedly about their plans, Hermione and Ron sat leaning towards each other, whispering something to each other.

"Hi, Harry."

The boy looked around and smiled to Luna, standing behind him.

"Oh, hey," he said.

"Are you going to the Christmas party?" the Ravenclaw asked, coming closer and sending a radiant smile his way. "I can't wait. You too?"

"Uh..." Harry blinked, surprised by the joyful zeal which he had heard in her voice. Since when has Luna started looking forward to some student event? Usually she shunned this type of thing, preferring instead to chase after Hogwarts' magical creatures that only she knew. On the other hand, even Neville had told him that he was going to come, so it seemed that about half the school was planning on attending. Originally, it was supposed to be only for a handful of people.

"Finally, we will be able to drink Butterbeer together," she smiled.

Oh yes! Butterbeer! Harry had totally forgot about it.

"Right. And considering what Tonks said, maybe even something stronger," he grinned.

Luna blushed slightly in response and looked away.

Harry looked at her with astonishment. Had he said something improper? He'd only mentioned some stronger drinks and...

He glanced at the teacher's table.

...Tonks. Tonks looked as if she had just turned her head in the opposite direction and hurriedly began to tell something to Professor Sprout who was sitting beside her.

He looked back at Luna, who had already walked a few steps towards the Ravenclaw table.

"Well... see you," she waved and disappeared from his view.

It was... odd, even for her.

Harry shrugged and headed for the Gryffindor table, quickly forgetting about the Butterbeer, about Luna, and began to wonder how to get Severus to eat his meals. He didn't like that the man didn't care about himself. He remembered how Severus had made him eat dinner when Harry'd spent the whole day locked in the Room of Requirement.

That's it! He would ask Dobby for help and then he’d bring the food to Severus! Anyway, he had to talk to him about his holiday plans and visit Hogsmeade. Yesterday he'd completely forgotten about it, too busy imagining that Snape betrayed him, and then getting fucked by him on the desk. Even though later they went into the bedroom, it was still hard to concentrate on anything because Harry wasn't wearing pants, and Snape seemed to have great fun tormenting him. "Hmm, your pants? It seems that they are not here, Potter. I'm afraid you'll have to return without them."

'Very funny,' he thought.

But Harry was very determined, so he began to circle through the room and look for his trousers until he found them in one of the lower cabinet shelves in the corner. When he angrily returned to the chair, the one thing he wanted was to get back at Snape, so he asked: "Do you really do the same thing as me at night? Tell me about it, I'm willing to listen." And til' now he had forgotten that horrible feeling of humiliation until he heard Snape's answer: "Yes, Potter. I sleep. I didn't know it fascinated you that much. "And then the bastard even had the audacity to sneer!

But all these events seemed to fade in the face of what had happened before, in the face of what he had done with Snape and what he had heard from him. So far, he couldn't believe it, and sometimes wondered if he hadn't misheard, if it wasn't simply his exuberant imagination.

There is only you, Potter.

At the mere thought of this, something shifted in his stomach. He felt as though something inside of him began pouring a wave of pure heat through him, and the heat sailed to his mouth, creating a decadent smile across his face.

He was the only one. Severus fucked only him. Only, exclusively him!

He felt so happy that he wanted to sing under his breath and jump like Luna.

When he sat at the table and greeted his friends, who, blushing slightly, broke off from each other and stared seriously at their plates, his hand immediately went to his pocket.

I need to talk to you about something urgent, Severus. May I come to you after dinner?

He recieved the answer only towards the end of the meal:

If you must...

Harry smiled to himself, but then sighed heavily.

Now the had to deal with the harder part...

#snarry #desiderium intimum #harry potter #severus snape #ariel gobuss #snape/harry #snarry fanfic #hp fic

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animatedrapture · 3 years

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"VORFREUDE."

Summary: Sakusa thinks of you as his vorfreude, his intense anticipation from imagining future pleasures. He swears it's not mere delusions.

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x F!Reader / slight Komori Motoya x Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Genre & Content Warnings: Slight angst. NSFW. Dark content. Yandere behavior. Porn with Plot. Incel/Bully!Sakusa. Virgin!Reader. Abuse. Non-con. Blackmail. Coercion. Misogyny. Slut-shaming. Slight manipulation and mindbreak. Fingering. Corruption. Defloration. Degradation. Vaginal penetration. Creampie.

Notes: Thank you soooo much to the lovely anon who commissioned this! Took a lot longer than it should've cause academics kept cutting in & joint with my anxiety. But yeah, thank you so much :') Thank you Faiwy for the final beta !! <3

If you're thinking about commissioning me, please refer to this post.

You’re a constant, Sakusa thinks.

For as long as he can remember, you’ve been following him and Komori like a lost puppy—whenever they were, you were sure to be there. He can’t think far back enough to remember when it started, but you were insignia of constancy, that was all Sakusa knew.

He listens intently while you talk to Komori from beside him, voice low and stumbling over your words every so often—he knows you're going out of your way to avoid saying something he could use to pull you apart with, piece by piece like a frail little toy.

"How did the test from yesterday go?" Komori questions you, right as your trio made it to the cafeteria.

Your easy-going smile falters at the mention of it. Sakusa already knows the answer. He shares that class with you, after all. He had the front row seat to see your face flushed with humiliation and how rigid your body grew when the professor told you Sakusa would be tutoring you.

Reminding him that out of everything about you, the way you wore your heart on your sleeve is something that insistently rubbed him the wrong way.

First, because he starts thinking about how easy you make it for people to take advantage of you; it makes his blood boil. Then, he starts thinking about every reaction he could get out of you, like how you'd look from beneath him as he used your body the way you wanted him to.

Because you do, don't you? Why else would you go out of your way to adjust to his habits? To carry around your personal sanitizer and wipes, always making sure the space you were in with them was clean.

Nothing else could explain how you strung along with them like loose thread.

It tugs at the heart beneath his ribcage—but whenever he sees you give all your attention to Komori, the betrayal sinks in, and he's reminded what kind of a woman you are.

A whore.

As you laughed nervously, taking a seat across from them, Sakusa wonders if you're having fun, wonders if for a moment you're riddled with guilt as you flirt with his cousin and him at the same time, in the same breath.

"N-no, it didn't turn out very well," you admit in between stutters, embarrassment creeping back in.

Komori frowns empathetically, "I could help you, you know—"

The sparkle in your eyes is quick to appear. God, you're so cunning. It makes Sakusa consider that maybe you failed the test on purpose, thinking this would happen—but that would be giving you more credit than due. You're just a dumb little girl.

"I'm already tutoring them," Sakusa interrupts, and he's unsure whether to be delighted or angered at the way your face falls sullen.

"O-oh right, but—but I'd love to get your help, Motoya-kun—"

The scoff Sakusa lets out is loud, loud enough to make you wince. "You're dumb enough as it is, you don't need distractions," his words come slicing like knife. You sink in your seat.

Komori laughs awkwardly, giving you a smile—sheepish and apologetic—he's so kind, he's always so kind.

Sometimes you wonder how they're actually cousins; until you're reminded that Sakusa hadn't always been this mean to you. He had always been cautious, but he wasn't ever mean like he was out to get you at every ragged edge.

Somehow, though, the closer you got to him—past his defenses and indifference towards you—the meaner he's gotten.

You were like a moth to a flame, not in the sense that you were attracted to its light, but more so like being punished with burn after burn the closer you got.

But your feelings for Komori begged you at every instance to swallow the humiliation down, at each of Sakusa’s degrading remarks.

You take out your packed bento, wiping at the table with wipes before placing it down, the cousins moving to do the same out of adapted habit, until you notice Komori digging in his bag, eyebrows furrowed like he's confused.

"Motoya-kun? What's wrong?"

He turns to you, scratching at the back of his head, "I think I forgot my sanitizer."

You're quick on your hands, offering him yours without missing a beat and Sakusa's reminded of why he even likes you at all.

You were persistent with being able to stick around them. He thought that was remarkable. That you'd never been freaked out by his habits, you respected his space—something he couldn't say with the people who pushed and disregarded his boundaries. That instead of forcing him to adjust to you, you went out of your way for him to be comfortable with you around.

And he's flattered, really. He doesn't have to wonder if he had a chance with you because surely, he does.

Since he's so nice—nicer than a whore like you deserves, he'll let you know your feelings are reciprocated, then he'll fuck you, because surely, that's what you want… Right?

Then maybe, when you're finally his girlfriend, he can start training you to stop being such a flirty slut, that you belong only to him and that you’re nothing but his property.

But for now, he can settle with the warmth in his chest as he notices all the ways you try to get his attention.

Being with Sakusa is hard, even with Komori around, it was nerve wracking. Conversations with him weren't any easier, if anything, they were more dreadful.

When you ask Sakusa about tutoring you, you do it over lunch just so you avoid having to walk up to him alone. His answer is curt when he tells you to come over tomorrow, and that he’ll pick you up from your place; because you can try all you want to outsmart him, but he’d always catch on.

Because Sakusa was smart, and you were just you.

After lunch, you feel nothing but the dread bubbling in the pit of your stomach—churning and thrashing—because no matter how hard you try to push it down, the fact is that you’re actually scared of him.

Scared of the nitpicking he'll scrutinize you with—the way you sat, the way you looked at him, the way you trembled in his presence alone. You start thinking of what to wear, because even something as little as that can put him off—always commenting about how short your skirt is, how you're showing too much skin, how you're probably doing it on purpose.

But it's nothing you're not used to anymore.

So you tug on your fear, push it into a corner, and you tell yourself that Sakusa is mean, and condescending, and harsh, but he wouldn’t hurt you. You pick yourself up from the corner of your mind, and you repeat in your head like a mantra. Sakusa wouldn’t hurt you.

The ring of the bell breaks you out of your reverie. It reminds you that the day has almost ended, and that it felt like a blink faster than it should’ve been. Still, you pull on your things, gathering them to leave the classroom slowly emptying out.

You make a small sound of surprise when your eyes dart over to the door, where Komori stood, an anxious smile on his lips. He looks like he's been waiting for you, making your heart hammer against your chest like it wants to leap out.

Face-flushed and giddy, you walk towards him.

“Hey, Motoya-kun. What’s up?” You smile, all sweet and bright-eyed. From the pit of Komori’s stomach, something flutters. You only ever look like this when your eyes are on him; he thinks he wants to keep it to himself.

He brings a hand up to his hair, lightly scratching at the back of his head with a nervous smile, and it’s awkward in an adorable sort of way. He’s walking beside you along the corridor, it’s slow and the bit of silence between you is calm.

“Ah, well…” He starts, gaze flickering to the floor and back to you indecisively, “I was wondering if I could ask you to the newly opened café tomorrow. A-after you study with Sakusa-kun, of course,” He stutters a bit, offering you a boyish grin.

It so nearly pulls a squeak out of you, surprised in the most love struck sort of way. Your heart beats out of your chest unlike the way Sakusa makes you feel.

Your heart hammers out of fear of him—but with Komori, it's nothing but pleasant and warm and intoxicating.

Your smile is instantaneous; it comforts Komori as your lips part.

"I'd love to," you answer him softly, though an octave higher.

Sakusa finds you both like this, shyly smiling at each other like lovesick doves. There's nothing pure about you, you shouldn't be smiling that way. Especially not at the face of his cousin.

"Oi," he calls out, even through the face mask, his annoyance seeps into your skin and makes you feel small.

The blood that had rushed to your cheeks dries you pale at the glare he gives you.

"Coach is looking for you, Komori," he follows, yet never taking his eyes off of you.

"Right. I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N!"

Sakusa takes another step closer to you the moment Komori's out of sight. Your grip on your bag tightening, instinctively taking a step backwards.

The action alone makes him practically sneer with you cowering in response.

"Disgusting," he mutters, brimming with venom. "There's nothing I hate more than girls who throw themselves at any guy they see."

Maybe it's the sheer malice in his voice, or the way your eyes catch how his hand moves up—but you flinch, like expecting a hit to come across your cheek.

The pain never comes and when your eyelids flutter open, you're met with hard eyes the color of obsidian yet gleaming with a newfound resolve despite his furrowed eyebrows that suggested hitting you was far from the origin of his intentions.

Without a word, Sakusa walks away from you with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket.

You let your body slump against the wall. His eyes burn in the back of your head, almost like they’re warning you.

Right before you head to bed, your phone chimes once, then twice and it’s bittersweet. One from Komori, telling you he’s excited to see you tomorrow, and one from Sakusa—not beating around the bush, it says nothing but ‘9 AM.’

It’s firm and unyielding. Even as your head hits the pillow, forcing your eyes shut, sleep doesn’t come easy—not even at the thought of seeing Komori on a date.

It’s not the sunlight peeking in between your curtains that wake you, nor the sound of birds chirping outside your window. Instead, it’s the ache in your body acting like a bad omen. Nevertheless, you drag your body out of bed.

Your stomach churns but you get ready for the day.

You think the next hour couldn’t come any quicker, because you’re fidgeting on the balls of your feet and somehow, there’s goosebumps rising against your bare skin.

Your phone blinks back at you with a minute before nine o’clock but you already hear the knock on your door. Your breathing halts even as you move hurriedly to open it—and even when the air hits you as you find Sakusa on your doorstep.

You feel his eyes wander, from the very top of your head, down to your feet, and he mutters, “You look nice today.”

The blush that creeps on your cheeks is only natural. Compliments in any form that came from Sakusa were hard to come by—only because they were compliments in the most genuine, honest of ways.

Sakusa is mean, and if you were more honest with yourself, he’s a bully. But Sakusa, mean or not, is still Komori’s cousin; so you give him a smile, palms going clammy.

“Thank you, Sakusa-kun…” You trail off, hesitating on your next words, “You look nice today, too.”

And he does. The dark color of his clothes complimented his pale skin and dark, curly hair, and despite being covered by the mask, his pristine beauty seems to gleam through. Even seemingly unfazed, his gaze on you softens by a fraction.

As abrupt as it appeared, he’s already turning away, “Hurry up,” he quips, but his voice is softer because you look nice today were words that confessed his truest feelings—the ones that reminded him he’s so in love with you and that you’re the cause of warmth in chest.

Even when you strut around trying to get Komori to like you, Sakusa doesn’t attempt to deny the feelings he harbored, because you look nice today, too should mean something, shouldn’t it?

You know you’re dressed up for your date with Komori, but Sakusa doesn’t know that; so in that moment, he appreciates you. For once, there isn't one insult that lingers in his tongue or even in his head as he walks slowly.

Sakusa is nice today, you note as he keys the lock to his place. He had awkwardly placed his hand on the small of your back on the short walk it took from your place to his, guiding you along the sidewalk.

You've only been to his place once or twice, both times were with Komori, so you weren't familiar with the directions. The walk was silent, and in his silence, you found a reason to relax—just enough to make you think that this might go well.

Despite all awkwardness, Sakusa is forward. Seeing you sat on his couch so comfortably, the skirt of your dress riding up slightly, does nothing to hold back his urge to keep his hands on you.

It's a good thing he doesn't have to keep his hands to himself now, right? Since you like him so much, you'd let him fuck you now… Right?

Sakusa's movements are sly, that's why you don't question how he walks closer towards you, sitting so, so close to you—that's why you choke on the lump in your throat when his hand shoots out to grab you by the wrist, pulls you in, then presses his lips on yours.

The second that passes is only because you couldn't wrap your head around Sakusa—lips pressed against yours and body so close.

But the next second, you're pushing him off roughly enough to stop him and he's looking at you confused.

"Sakusa-kun, I think you misunderstood—I like, I like Motoya-kun, I didn't mean to—this is—" you're trampling over your words, looking at him with panicked eyes.

Sakusa mutes out the sound of your voice, all he can hear is the beating in his chest and the ache of it—the sound of his heart dropping to his stomach. He should’ve known.

All the softness in his eyes are gone. His hand, still wrapped around your wrist, gripping tighter and tighter; your heart skipping obnoxiously against your chest. Something about the way he's looking at you now petrifies you.

His silence feels deadlier than his destructive words, deadlier when you wince at his grip, whimpering, "Sakusa, you're hurting me—please," and still, he doesn't let up.

Not when he's roughly tugging you from the couch, taking your arm with a bruising grip, then he's hauling you somewhere. You thrash, panicked pleas calling out to him and apologies he doesn't deserve but you offer him anyway. All your protests are rewarded when he halts, turning to you without a hint of remorse, pushing you to the floor—his foot comes to your side, kicking you with a force that knocks the breath out of your lungs.

Bile is rising up your throat, coughing and arms shooting to your stomach to protect yourself. Scared feels too small of a word to describe the feeling that looms over you as he takes your arm again, dragging your curled up body.

Sakusa shoves you inside a room, even as you flail around and beg for help, his face remains impassive; whatever force you’re putting in the way you try to break free from his hold is futile. Of course he’s stronger. Of course, but you can’t possibly accept this, can you?

You made Sakusa yearn—disgustingly grapple on his feelings so needlessly, and nothing, he thinks, could be more unforgivable.

So he secures you on the bed, bound and within his claws, for you to take responsibility for the yearning you've planted inside of him.

"S-Sakusa, please," your begging sounds like a whimper. "I-I won't tell anyone! N-not even Motoya-ku—!"

You hear ringing in your ears before feeling the sting across your cheek. From inside your mouth, you can taste metal.

"You won't tell anyone either way," he mutters apathetically, like the idea of you telling anyone isn't a threat, "No one would believe you…"

He pauses, gaze on you hardening for a second, "You don't want Komori finding out you only got close to him because you wanted me, right?"

The sound of disbelief that escapes you is small, even the wide-eyed betrayal that flashes in your eyes does nothing to make him even pity you.

"You–I, I didn't—"

At your stuttering, Sakusa clicks his tongue, "You're such a dumb girl you don't even know what you want."

"That's not true, Sakusa—"

He glares down on you. The bed dips, bracketing your body between his knees, hovering over you, then leaning forward. His hands move slowly as if caressing you before grabbing your hair with a stinging tug.

The fear pooling your eyes only makes him even angrier.

"I hate that face," he grits out, "Always looking at me all scared, then you look at Komori like a shy innocent bitch, it pisses me off."

Pretty as you are, he lands another hit across your cheek—hard enough that you can feel a cut on your cheek trickling down with blood, the side of your ear going deaf. You’re not sure anymore if it was a slap or a punch—all that you know is that it hurts. Your vision is blurred when you open your eyes, but even through them, the insanely expressionless eyes of Sakusa are clear.

It dawns on Sakusa that you wouldn’t date him. Of course you wouldn’t. Sluts like you go for guys like Komori—so he’d just have to take you by force, make you date him by force, make you love him by force.

Besides, you look prettier forced, he observes. Your face tear-stained and bloody makes his cock throb in his pants. With your body weak underneath him, so helpless that it disgusts him and fuels him with desire all at once.

Something about your weakness, the innocence that spills from you contradicting his firm idea that you’re a dirty whore makes him livid. He pictures you painted with bruises and cuts, the image sending a shiver down his spine. Clenched fists pull back, only to land on your sides, on the same places he kicked you.

What makes you feel sick at the stomach more than the abuse he inflicts on you is the way Sakusa’s movements lack hesitation as his hands travel to your bare thighs.

"W-what are you doing?”

It's disgusting. Women like you are disgusting. You lead him on just so you can take advantage of his feelings like this—that even if he knew better, he'd still soften up for you.

It's you who lured him into this, he almost sneers at the thought. You were truly vile, and yet he loves you all the same—wants you all to himself all the same.

"Omi?' You breathe, frightened. The nickname falls affectionately, though, putting all your hope into it, wishing it would tug on his heart enough for him to let you go.

“Let’s talk about this, Omi? Please?” You cry, searching for his eyes—the ones trained on your thighs as he glides his hands against them, your dress bunched up to your hips revealing your baby pink panties. Your sobs only grow louder as he goes further up, going on as if he’s in a trance where he can’t hear you groveling at him to stop.

Strong, calloused hands stop at the band of your panties, fingers hooking, and only then does he look back up at you. Dark eyes drown you as he tugs them down torturously slow, exposing you to him in your most vulnerable state.

The same second you attempt to force your legs shut, comes a biting pain on the inside of your thighs, instantly blooming his handprint at the force. Your mouth opens to wail at the pain, but it’s the same wail that Sakusa swallows as he brings his lips to yours with a kiss so treacherously passionate.

Sakusa pulls away quickly though, eyeing your bare cunt, he brings his fingers to your slit, experimentally rubbing up and down and your response is immediate, somehow. Your slick gathers on his fingers, body squirming from beneath him.

“K-Kiyoomi, it feels weird—stop, please,” yet your hips buck into his fingers as he prods at your tight hole, “Don’t—Not there—N-no one has touched—”

He lifts an eyebrow, “You’re a virgin?” His question sounding more of a comment, because the hesitant nod you give him is almost needless when you hiss at the intrusion of his digit pushing inside of you; your walls clamping down on it, body tensing, he brings a thumb to your clit, circling with enough pressure to make it feel good.

And it’s wrong. So wrong, but it feels good because you’re moaning against your will, whimpering at the curl of his finger and at the additional finger he’s slowly sinking into you.

The stretch is uncomfortable and foreign. Nothing is in Sakusa’s mind but at the thought of you absolutely untouched, absolutely all for him to ruin. Your body instinctively leaning to his, submitting to his ministrations—fingers scissoring and pushing in and out of your pussy, the sound of your slick echoing in your ears as if to taunt you, but your legs are trembling, your gasps are broken and there’s a pressure in your pelvis about to snap.

“You’re so filthy,” he mutters, but he looks at you like you’re the farthest thing from filthy, and his comment is exactly what makes you break, eyes rolling to the back of your skull and cunt creaming around his fingers pathetically.

You feel so dirty, especially at the sound of your slick as he pulls his fingers out and shoves them inside your mouth—the taste of you tainting your tongue. Shaking your head profusely, you beg him with your eyes, “No more—please, I don’t want this.” you weep, muffled.

“Suck,” he commands, but your defiance is clear before you even shake your head, so he pushes his fingers down further, choking you until you gag and find it hard to breathe.

“Suck,” he repeats, and you relent.

Watching you suck messily on his fingers, drool and tears disheveling you, dried blood sticking to your skin, he frees his twitching cock out of its constraints.

Though hazy, your eyes catch it, the thickness of his cock—hard and flushed at the tip—your hands tugging at your restraints feebly making you panic and choke on his fingers, nearly biting down on them.

He’s quick to pull them out, glaring down at you with dark eyes, jaw ticking as his hands curl into fists; knowing what’s to come doesn’t prepare you any more at the excruciating pain of his abuse, even more so at his length pressing against your wet folds—cockhead nudging your puffy clit and making your cunt drool on him.

Both hands dig into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them to your chest. The pain on your face numbs at the sensation of him prodding on your entrance, ripping you apart and increasing the pain—your head throbs as he stretches your cunt with his fat cock, barely giving you time to adjust as he starts to move slowly despite your tense walls barely allowing him.

He curses as he ruts into you, bathing in your cries and moans, violating and invading the entirety of you. The pleasure of feeling you and having you just like this seeps into his bones, turning his languid thrusts more desperate.

“You make desperation look so pretty,” he groans, “You’re making such a mess, you like being forced like this?”

He insults you, but you’re everything he always wanted and more—the taste of your skin as he sucks marks onto your neck as if you were his to own, the clenching and humiliating sound of your cunt squelching as he pounds into you and grunts against your skin. His cock throbs inside you and drags along your velvety walls deliciously; all you can think is that you hate this.

Pressure, pain, the drowning pleasure of Sakusa all over you and inside you don’t allow you to retreat to the back of your head and forget. Not with the burning euphoria building up in your stomach or the moan that slips from your lips as Sakusa brings one of your legs down, bringing his hand to your breasts and thumb swiping around your sensitive nipples.

“O-Omi, please,” you sob, weak and submissive—just how you should be. Your nails dig into your palms, arms aching from your restraints. “I-I’m gonna—I think I—”

“Y-you really are a whore,” he spits, voice strained yet patronizing, still. “Do it, then. Cum on my cock.”

His hand moves in between your thighs, fingers pressing and rubbing circles on your clit as you cry out, tight walls clamping down on him and stuttering his already sloppy thrusts, your arousal running down his length and down to his heavy balls slapping against your ass.

Your moans come out as squeals of his name, your back arching and breath catching in your throat, vision going white as he continues to fuck into you.

His breathing is ragged, moving to bury his face into the crook of your neck in an odd show of affection, your swollen cunt pulsating around his cock as he suddenly stills, his low groan vibrating against your skin as he empties inside you.

You want to cry—but nothing comes out, all you can feel is the bruises on your skin, Sakusa’s cock buried deep inside you and his cum leaking from your abused hole, the stickiness and the sweat.

Maybe Sakusa’s right. Maybe you are disgusting, because as he peels himself from you, thinking it’s all over—Sakusa doesn’t undo the ties keeping you on the bed.

He reaches towards the bedside table, grabbing his phone. The sound of the shutter going off once, twice, over and over with the camera directed at you pulls your soul out of you.

“Omi—?” Your question remains a lump in your throat, but Sakusa is smart. He doesn’t need to hear your question.

“You’re my girlfriend now…” He mutters carelessly, “but I’m sure you don’t want Komori to see how you like to be fucked, right?”

#sakusa smut #haikyuu smut #yandere haikyuu #;commish

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itsdanii · 3 years

Text

Hurting his s/o’s feelings pt.2

genre: slight angst to fluff

ft. tsukishima kei x gn!reader

throughout your 8 months of relationship, you've been nothing but patient to your boyfriend but sometimes, you wish that he'd show you more affection.

ushijima’s part

People often describe your boyfriend as cold and mean but you never minded them. After all, why would you listen to other people's unwanted opinion if you knew Tsukishima better? You were his girlfriend, not them.

You love Kei. In fact, you learned to love him more than you expected. The playful banter between the two of you, the sight of his flushed cheeks everytime he was embarrassed and even the smirk he always had when he was flustering you. Everything about him made your heart flutter.

But sometimes, Kei's lack of affection towards you made you feel sad. No matter how much you tell yourself to be patient because you knew that it's hard for him to open up to other people aside from Yamaguchi, you can't help but crave his touch.

Maybe it was because you kept seeing couples holding each other's hands when they walk, or the sight of other girlfriends wearing their boyfriend's jacket when they're cold. You don't know for sure but it was there - the feeling of insecurity.

Despite the lack of sleep, a smile was present on your face as you made your way to the gymnasium where you knew your boyfriend was currently practicing.

Packed in the bento you were holding is a combination of riceballs and some strawberries, knowing how much your boyfriend loved them. You also brought some fresh strawberry milk that you made yourself to warm him up for the cold weather.

You sneezed as the wind blew, your thin uniform the only thing covering you from the cold. You were quite in a hurry when you left home, making Kei's breakfast and forgetting to set an alarm last night.

The consequence? The dark circles under your eyes that you tried hard to cover with make up. You even forgot to bring your own jacket.

As you entered the gym, Hinata was the first one to spot you, jumping and squealing your name as he rushed towards your direction. You can't help but giggle at the adorable tangerine boy.

"Hey, Sho. Is Kei there?" You asked, looking behind him to spot your boyfriend.

"He went to the restroom, I think? He was grumpy this morning!" Hinata complained. "Well, he's always grumpy...but extra grumpy today! Like super grumpy grumpy!"

"Grumpy? I wonder what happened," you said with a small pout.

"Oi, Hinata-boke! Stop bothering Tsukishima's s/o and finish your lunch!" Kageyama scolded.

You could only giggle as you watched the two start to bicker among themselves.

When Tsukishima arrived, you immediately stood up and held out your arm, presenting the bento you made for him. "I made you lunch!" you said happily.

"I thought I warned you not to visit me during practice," Tsukishima said while looking at you with a small scowl.

Your confidence immediately deflated at his tone and choice of words. You knew that he often tells you not to visit practice, claiming you as a distraction. "Sorry, Kei. I just wanted to surprise you with some food. I even made strawberry milk for you! It's warm and-"

"I didn't tell you to make me lunch though. I already ate with Yamaguchi."

Yamaguchi's eyes widen at the mention of his name. "O-oh...right. I didn't know you were coming so I invited Tsukki to have lunch with me at the cafeteria. Sorry, y/n."

You gave Yamaguchi a small smile and looked down at the bento you were holding. "Is that so? Then...maybe you can eat this with me? I'll have the food and you can have the milk. I promise it's good," you said hopefully, fingers fiddling with the wrap covering the bento.

You heard your boyfriend sigh and you immediately looked up. "I don't want it. What part of I already ate can you not understand?"

"Oi, Stingyshima! I think that's too much!" Hinata interrupted, "I'll eat it for you, y/n!"

You ignored the orange head and gripped the bento tightly, your lips becoming wobbly and tears starting to gather in your eyes from the humiliation. "I shouldn't have come here."

You turned around and ran out of the gym, ignoring the shouts of the volleyball team.

When the classes ended, you felt like a literal zombie. Maybe you should've just slept more this morning instead of making your boyfriend's bento. After all, your efforts were not appreciated.

You exit your room and made your way to the school clinic, hoping to get some medicine for headache before you go home. Your head was pounding that you think you won't be able to make it home without taking any medicine.

As you entered, you were greeted by the nurse who immediately went to get the medicine you requested.

The door then busted open, revealing your boyfriend who was a bit sweaty and panting. "Y/n, what happened? I was waiting for you but one of your classmates said that you were at the clinic." He made his way to you and cupped your cheeks, his eyes widening at the feeling of hotness enveloped by his hand.

"I'm fine, Kei. It's nothing a medicine can't cure. I was just up all night is all," you mumbled and took his hands away from your face. You took the medicine from the nurse and walked out, leaving your boyfriend.

You knew that you were being petty, but with the way he acted awhile ago, you think that it was only right that you act like this.

As you reached for your water bottle from inside your bag, you felt your surroundings swaying, darkness starting to cloud your vision. You tried stilling yourself by holding on the wall for support but the pounding headache seemed to overcome your senses.

"Y/n!"

The shouts of your boyfriend were the last thing you heard before you completely passed out.

You woke up at the feeling of someone caressing your hair. A cooling sensation could be felt on your forehead as if someone had put a cold towel on it.

When your eyes fluttered open, you let out a small sigh. The headache you were experiencing awhile ago was not as painful but still there. "Kei?" you whispered as you allowed your vision to adjust.

"Take it easy, dumbass. You still have your fever," Tsukishima muttered as he supported your back when you sat up.

Remembering the fight that occurred awhile ago, you averted your gaze from him and looked down on your lap. You started fiddling with your fingers as your eyes started to water once again. "Kei, I'm s-"

"I'm sorry," Tsukishima cut you off. He took your hands in his and rubbed soothing circles at the back of your palm. "I'm sorry for acting hostile on you awhile ago. I knew you were only looking out for me and I took it for granted. I'm not the best boyfriend out there but..." he brought your hand on his lips and gave the back a kiss. "I promise that I'll try. Be more patient with me, love, please?"

The pleading look and vulnerability shown by your boyfriend made your heart ache. You knew that what happened awhile ago isn't something you should forget easily but the reassurance and love you have for your boyfriend was overcoming your insecurity. "No more pushing me away?" you said with a hopeful look.

You brought your hand on his face, cupping his cheek. "Open up to me, Kei. I love you. I don't want to lose you but if you keep pushing me away, you might be the one to lose me."

He gave you a small nod, hand moving on top of yours as he leaned to your touch. "I promise. Thank you for loving me and being patient with me."

Tsukishima scooted closer to you and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Giving your forehead a lingering kiss, he whispered softly against your skin, "Now, let me show you how much I love you."

likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

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gaysimpsstuff · 3 years

Note

Hi!! I have a request for hc’s! I just read your “what their biggest kinks are”, and I was wondering if you could make a part 2 with Deku, Todoroki, Kirishima, and Mirio? Thank you and I love your writing!!

MHA Characters + Their Biggest Kinks PT. 2

No worries, buddy! Here you go!!! I’m so glad you like my writing!! I’m really happy to be getting requests!

I hope you enjoy this, Anon!

I struggled a little with Kirishima, so huge thanks to my bestie @smolchildfangirl for helping me out with this

PT. 1 Here

PT 3 Here

Genre: smutty smut

Warnings: BDSM Kinks, hard kinks, weird kinks

Other: this was in the making before the request, but I was planning to put Aizawa in instead of Mirio. I am now moving Aizawa to another post

Characters: Deku, Kirishima, Mirio, Todoroki + a bonus character

NSFW Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy

Izuku Midoriya/ Deku

Switch- Listen, he’s more of a bottom most of the time but he has nothing against topping, he will top if you ask nicely. But baby boy needs to be taken care of, he’s always thinking about others so this is his time when he’s the one being though of.

Roleplay- specifically hero/civilian. This works when he’s topping or bottoming. Hero saves a sweet civilian, who wants to thank the hero. It’s always better when whoever plays the civilian is a fan of the hero, he just finds it so hot. He’ll also indulge in hero/villain, and enjoys that one a lot too.

Praise/ Body Worship- he needs you to know how special you are to him, how much he loves you and how good you make him feel. He also needs to be reassured he’s doing a good job, and that you feel just as good as him.

Vanilla- sex with him is usually very vanilla, and often times awkward. Like the time you farted while fucking him. You froze, then both of you started laughing and he said it was okay to keep going. Sometimes you guys just have normal conversations while having sex. it’s kind of adorable how embarrassed he gets when you’re so casual about it.

Wax Play- this is the kinkiest he is, and it’s more for you than for him. He loves seeing the colorful wax drip off your body, and how you hiss in pain and pleasure. He always chooses colors that compliment your eyes, skin, or hair. He might take pictures of it and claim it to be art. Don’t worry, he’d never show anyone without your permission.

Bondage- this is more for him than for you. He doesn’t know why, but being restrained and helpless kind of turns him on. Especially if you’re role playing hero/villain or villain/civilian and you’re the villain who’s toying with the poor failed hero or innocent victim.

Eijiro Kirishima/ Red Riot

Soft Dom- this man is so respectful, and so scared of hurting you. He’d be so gentle and sweet to you. Expect lots of praise and soft kisses as he fucks up into you. He’s so gentle with your body, like you’re made of glass.

Voyeurism- He loves watching you, in any kind of sense. Found out about his kink when you left the bathroom door open as you showered. He came into your dorm to study and couldn’t find you. Peeked in the bathroom and boom- instant boner

Underwear- he’s kind of a pervert and will steal your dirty underwear and press it against his face to smell you as he jerks off. Don’t be surprised if your underwear goes missing and then you find it a few days later.... in his room.

Edging- he loves to tease you. This is usually used as a punishment when he’s mad at you. He’ll bring you right to the ends of an orgasm then pull away, laughing you when you whine and cry for release.

Hair Pulling- this is more for him, it shows him that you feel so good with him fucking you that you lose yourself and just grasp at whatever you can. It’s so hot to him.

Quirk Play- He was a little reluctant to do this at first, but after he tried using his quirk on his dick, he realized that it would be so fucking hot. His dick gets harder and tougher, please don’t try and jerk him off it’s like jerking off a pole. He gains an inch in length and diameter. Hard hard mini-Kiri will have you screaming.

Mirio Togata/ Lemillion

Praise/ Body Worship- this man is so sweet- you really expect him to degrade you? No no never. You’re his sweet, precious, baby, and he needs you to understand that he loves you with all his heart and needs to make you feel good. Your body is a temple, and he is but a humble worshipper.

Creampies- he loves filling you up with his cum, then holds your legs up so he can watch it drip out of you. Even better if you let him eat it out of you. His favorite thing to do is rub your belly after he cums in you.

Cuckholding- he’d only want to do this with Tamaki or Nejire, where two of you fuck and the other has to watch. He’d fuck you in front of them or them in front of you, or the two of you would fuck and he’d be watching.

Threesomes- is there anything better than not participating? Yes. Participating. Send post. Also he’s a fuckboy so he’ll be asking for someone different to have sex with both of you every week. It’ll definitely get annoying.

Quirk Play- you really think he hasn’t done that porn trope of sticking his dick through the shower wall for a blow-job? And I’m sure he’s had you in his lap and fucked you through both of your clothes.

Humiliation- he loves to embarrass you. Whether it’s by saying something super lewd, making you look at where he’s fucking you, moving your face to make eye-contact with him, or just teasing you.

Recording/ Porn- he takes lots of pictures and videos of you during sex. Keeps them or personal use and to show you. Expect to get fingered as you both watch you suck his dick on his phone.

Shoto Todoroki/ Shoto

Shower Sex- he doesn’t know what it is about it- maybe it’s the trust you have in him to keep you from slipping, maybe it’s the water running down your body, maybe it’s the fact that you’re doing something so dirty in a place meant for cleanliness, he just loves it.

Mirror Sex- he loves to put you in a full Nelson in front of the mirror, tells you how amazing you look. He’ll slow down if you look away or close your eyes. He wants you to see “just how beautiful you looked all fucked out on his cock.” He also wouldn’t mind you jerking him off and making him cum on the mirror.

Soft Sex- he’s very gentle, both physically and verbally. He’s so afraid to hurt you. His favorite position is the lotus position, so you can see each other’s faces and you’re so close to each other. Loves it when you hug him during sex.

Mutual Masterbation- this happened more before you were ready to have sex, and it’s just sweet to him. Getting to touch himself to the sight of you touching yourself. It feels so intimate and vulnerable.

Quirk Play- this is saved for your more... arousing escapades. The little swirls of ice making fractals on your skin looks like art. He will heat up his skin but won’t use fire. Hope you’re cool with him pushing misshapen ice cubes into you or being restrained with huge chunks of ice. He’s sure to help warm you up afterwards.

Breath Play- this is the most kinky he’s going to get. He’s got a small oral fixation so if you choke him gently with your fingers in his mouth- hooh boy you’ve got him literally and figuratively wrapped around your finger. He also feels rather powerful to have his fingers curled around your neck.

Erotica/ Written Porn- this was discovered when you showed him regular Porn and he wasn’t into it. You pulled up an NSFW fanfiction and changed the names to yours and his. A few minutes later he was humping your leg, whining pitifully. The two of you have written erotica and then memorized it, recreating it in the bedroom countless times.

BONUS

Tamaki Amajiki/ Suneater

Shit wrong Tamaki-

There we go

Bottoming- you think this man has the confidence to top? Really? Really? No he’s much better on his knees for you, crying and begging for his master to touch his weeping cock. Poor little subby baby.

Food/ Quirk Play- you need his cock to be bigger? Horse meat, no problem. You want to get fucked by tentacles? He’s got plenty of Takoyaki on hand. He loves it when you poor syrup or honey on yourself and demand he lick it off you.

Degredetion- ever wonder why people who have low self-esteem usually have degrading kinks? Me too. But he has one. He wants to be manhandled into the bed and told what a worthless slut he is. Your little bitch in rut.

Boot Worship- he loves it when you put on combat boots or fancy heels and step on him. He’ll lick and kiss them as if you were a god. He’s very obedient. His favorite thing is when you press your shoe against his hard-on and tell him he doesn’t get to cum unless he really begs for it. Even better when he’s on his knees in front of you and you lift his chin with your foot. He will melt.

Master/Slave- he wants to serve you, he needs to make you feel good. You need to give him orders on how best to please you. Keep him on a leash and drag him to different corners of the room.

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buckysbbyy · 3 years

Text

here, stevie (part 1)

part 1 | part 2

pairings: bucky barnes x reader(established), steve rogers x bucky barnes, steve rogers x reader, stucky x reader (dom!bucky, sub!reader, sub!steve)

synopsis: bucky has noticed how you and steve act in each other’s presence, he can tell you’re both holding back from one another. tonight, he decides to give the two of you what you thought you were hiding gracefully, while also getting the fun he deserves.

warnings: dom/sub dynamics, dom bucky, sub steve and reader, threesome, M/M SEXUAL INTERACTIONS, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotective penetrative sex, dirty talk, pet names, kissing, daddy kink, spitting, slight voyeurism, choking for a moment, sex in the compound living room, filth, its porn. 18+ ONLY! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

word count: 2.4k

a/n: well, this is complete FILTH. I’m scared to post this, honestly. I was going to wait until tomorrow to post but I honestly want to get this deleted from my computer LOL. BUT I hope someone other than me has these filthy stucky thoughts. feedback is always welcome!

It was your honest intent to just watch the movie with your boyfriend, Bucky, but he picked some action movie that you were only half paying attention to, and he just looked so good in the grey sweats and tight black t-shirt that he had on. It started with you kissing his cheeks for attention, but it quickly got heated after he picked you up and placed you on his lap to straddle him. Being that you were in the living room of the compound, this was a bad place to start getting frisky.

Bucky didn’t care though, he’d take you right there with everyone watching if he knew you wouldn’t die of humiliation. Of course, right at that moment when Bucky’s tongue is in your mouth, his hands grinding you against his hard-on through his sweats, Steve walks in, not expecting to see, well, that.

As steve catches sight of the two of you, he means to turn away, he really does, but he just can’t. The sight of Bucky’s hands on your hips, grinding you into him, his tongue in your mouth, the soft moans spilling from your lips, it sends blood rushing to his cock.

With your back to Steve in Bucky’s lap, you can’t see him, but as Bucky parts his lips from yours to start trailing them on your neck, his eyes open, catching sight of Steve standing there, his hard cock evident in his thin gym shorts.

Steve’s face reddens as Bucky sends him a wink, and finally, he gathers the strength to turn away. “God, sorry!”, Steve half-shouts, covering his eyes and turning his body the opposite way.

Steve’s voice frightens you as you turn to look where his. “Steve!” Your face is red, embarrassed beyond belief at the fact that Steve saw you in such a way. “I’m sorry! We shouldn’t be doing that in here!” You scramble to get off Bucky’s lap, but he holds you in place.

“I-it’s fine, I’ll go”, Steve says, starting to walk away, but Bucky calls out to him.

“Steve.” Bucky is looking right at him, waiting for him to turn around. But he won’t, because he’s afraid you’ll see the tent in his pants.

“Yeah, Buck?” he asks, still turned the other way. “Look at me. No need to hide.” Bucky is smirking, knowing he’s finally getting this chance.

“Bucky, what are you doing?”, you whisper shout at him, wondering why he’s not letting Steve leave or letting you get off of his lap.

“Hush, kitten, before I spank you right here.” He says back, squeezing your hips and keeping his eyes on Steve. You’re still turned on from just moments ago before Steve walked in, and Bucky’s words to you don’t help any.

Steve turns around slowly, trying to discretely cover his groin area with his hand. Bucky chuckles at his red face and nervous behavior. “Come here, Stevie.”

Both yours and Steve’s eyes widen, looking at each other momentarily before breaking eye contact, Steve looking back to Bucky and you burying your face in his chest. Steve walks over slowly to where Bucky is seated on the couch with you in his lap. Bucky looks up at him, smirking.

“Stevie, correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you were just watching me and my girl from the doorway there. And I think you liked it, according to the strain of your shorts. Yet, I can’t seem to figure out who you were looking at more, me or her.”

The arousal in your core has never been more evident, and you’re trying your hardest not to rub yourself into Bucky’s lap again. The way he’s talking down to Steve that way is making your head spin.

You bring your face out of Bucky’s chest to look at Steve, finding him speechless, eyes darting between you and Bucky.

“I-I- I’m sorry, Buck, I-“ Steve starts, but Bucky grabs his hand in an attempt to calm him.

“Stevie, would you like join to us?” Bucky asks nonchalantly as if he was asking him to join the two of you for dinner. “I know my girl here doesn’t mind. Every time you walk in the room, she gets all shy and wet and subby, I know she wants to fuck you.”

You are now joining Steve in being speechless, not sure whether to start apologizing because it's true, or to deny it. Bucky looks at you for a moment, sensing your concern. “Don’t worry kitten, I’m not mad. I know you can’t help it, and I know you’d never do anything to betray me.”

He turns back to Steve, “And I know you feel the same way for her. In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you get so nervous and shy around a dame. I can’t blame you punk, I do have one hell of a special girl. But you know what else? I hear you moaning her name at night sometimes when you’re touching yourself. You’re not the only super soldier around here with increased hearing abilities.”

Steve’s eyes widen at what he knows is coming next. “I hear my own name fall from your lips too.” Bucky looks at him in the eyes, and you feel his cock twitch under you. You suppress a moan at both that feeling and at Bucky’s words.

Steve looks at him, his eyes softening from their widened state, his hands coming to their sides instead of covering his hard cock. He walks closer to Bucky, standing right next to his knee. “Come here”, Bucky says softly.

Steve slowly sits next to him on the couch, your leg touching his as you’re still straddling your boyfriend. You look at Bucky, he can see it in your eyes, and feel it on his pants, how desperate you’ve become.

He brings his hand up to cup Steve’s jaw before turning to kiss you. It’s a slow, deep kiss full of raw emotion. While he’s kissing you, he’s guiding Steve close to your joined lips. Bucky pulls away and quickly replaces his lips with Steve’s on your own before you even know what’s happened.

Bucky sits back and groans as he watches Steve kiss you. He kisses slow like Bucky, but you can tell he’s holding back, that he wants to devour you. Bucky’s cock is twitching in his sweats as he puts both of his hands on the backs of yours and Steve’s heads, keeping you in the kiss for a moment before pulling him off your lips and crashing his own into his.

Years of built-up tension is coming out through this kiss unfolding right in front of you. Both Steve and Bucky’s faces are distorted in pleasure as they find each other’s tongues, Bucky’s easily dominating Steve’s in the heat.

Bucky brings his flesh fingers to your mouth for you to suck while his lips are still on Steve’s. You moan around his fingers and start to move your hips against his crotch, forcing a moan into Steve’s mouth. He pulls away from his friends’ lips to look at you, you’re so desperate you could cum right there just from rubbing on him, and Bucky knows it.

“Aw baby, you’re soaked through your shorts. Look at the mess you’ve made on my pants.” Bucky mocks you, pulling another moan from your mouth. He grabs your jaw, pulling you so close to his face that your noses are almost touching. “Stand up and strip.” He says quietly, yet sternly. Your eyes widen at the thought of stripping in front of Steve, but you do as he says and stand up in front of him.

Bucky turns to give Steve a quick kiss before finding Steve’s cock through his shorts, a moan falling from Steve’s mouth. His shorts are stained with precum, Bucky can feel it. They both watch as you remove your t-shirt and shorts.

Standing in your bra and panties, your face turns red as you start to shy away.

“Don’t- don’t hide, y/n. You’re gorgeous”, Steve says in awe, never having seen your body in this way. “That’s right, doll. You know daddy’s rule, no hiding. Take the rest of it off so you can get back in my lap, pretty girl.” Bucky says, smiling softly at you.

You remove the remainder of your clothes, quickly returning to Bucky’s lap, where he’s rid of his sweats but kept his boxers. As you begin to straddle him, he stops you.

“Nu-uh. Other way, kitten. I want your back against my chest.” You oblige and turn around, his arms grabbing beneath your knees and pulling your legs apart, spreading your bare mound for anyone to walk in and see.

Bucky brings his fingers to Steve’s mouth, where he happily takes them. “Get them nice and wet for me, Stevie”, Bucky says, pulling his fingers out and bringing them to your pussy. You moan loudly, finally getting what you needed. He begins making slow circles on your clit, Steve watching your face turn in pleasure.

Bucky turns to Steve. “Shirt and shorts off, now.” Steve stands up and strips the clothes Bucky told him to. As he sits back down, Bucky grabs his jaw, kissing him sloppily for a second before pulling away.

“Open your mouth, tongue out.” Steve obeys, and Bucky spits on his tongue, the excess dripping on his chin.

“Good boy. Now get that mouth on my girl’s pussy.”

Your eyes widen as you hear Bucky’s words, but before you can say anything, Steve’s mouth is on your mound, and god is he good. His tongue licking wide stripes up and down, focusing on your clit before going further down to tongue your entrance.

You’re a moaning mess, on edge and so, so ready to cum. Steve begins sucking on your clit as he brings a single finger to your hole. Bucky’s hands are on your breasts, squeezing and caressing as his lips suck purple marks into your neck. Steve’s index finger and tongue work your pussy, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Daddy!” You moan to Bucky, “Daddy, m’gonna cum!” Bucky smirks, “Oh no baby, not yet” Bucky gently pushes Steve’s face from your mound, pulling a pathetic whine from you. “You’re cumming on my cock, sweet girl.”

Bucky pulls his boxers off him, his cock now free, the tip oozing precum and prodding at your entrance. Steve looks at his friend's cock wide-eyed. He looks to Bucky nervously as he watches him push his cock into your wet hole.

“Oh fuck, kitten, so wet for me, aren’t you?” You nod yes and moan desperately, trying to move your hips against him, but Bucky reaches his arm across your hips, holding you still. He looks to Steve,

“Go on, Stevie, keep working your tongue on her. She’s gonna cum so hard for us.” Bucky groans, moving his cock excruciatingly slow in and out of you.

Steve brings his head back down to your core, all his focus on your clit now as Bucky continues to pump slowly into you. Steve can feel Bucky’s cock rubbing against his chin occasionally, making his cock twitch in his boxers, which are covered in precum. You’ve never experienced pleasure like this, and you’re so close, you’re right there.

“Daddy can I cum?! Please daddy, feels so good!” Bucky groans as he feels your walls beginning to tighten around him.

“Yes baby, be a good girl and make a mess on my cock” At his words you fall apart, your head thrown back and your legs shaking as you cum hard, your eyes squeezing tight as you experience ecstasy like never before.

You finally come down, your body going limp in Bucky’s lap as Steve’s tongue comes off your clit. You’re trying to catch your breath as Bucky pulls his cock from you, cooing at the mess you made on it.

“Such a good girl, baby. Now Stevie, be a good boy and lick my cock clean.”

Steve’s eyes are full of lust as he takes no time to obey Bucky’s orders. He licks his cock from base to tip, cleaning your cum from it and moaning at the taste. Steve’s tongue is pushing Bucky closer to the edge,

“Yes Stevie, keep licking me like that, fuck” Bucky groans at the feeling as Steve starts to focus on his head. Bucky kisses you deeply, his hands finding your throat and lightly squeezing as he gets closer to cumming.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum” Bucky groans, Steve not slowing down his tongue as Bucky’s cum shoots up and lands on your exhausted pussy, covering it in his thick white ropes.

“Ah, fuck! God, yes!” Bucky groans through his orgasm, his head falling back for a second before looking back to Steve.

“Okay Steve, I think you’ve earned the privilege to fuck my girl. But you better not cum in her, punk, I’ll kill you”, Bucky smirks at Steve. You look at him as he discards his boxers in front of you, watching his angry red cock bounce free.

Steve gets between yours and Bucky’s knees as he lines himself with your entrance, looking at you for silent permission as you look at him with begging eyes, needing him to fuck you. He finally begins to push himself into you, moans escaping his mouth as you squeeze him tight with your walls.

“Oh god, Steve!” you moan, holding Bucky’s hands as he starts to pump in and out of you. “Fuck, m’not gonna last long”, he says, out of breath already from the pleasure. Bucky grabs his arm and pulls him down to capture his lips in a kiss, then turning Steve’s head to kiss you once more.

He’s pounding into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room, his face scrunched in pleasure as he feels his peak approaching. “Oh god, I-I’m gonna cum, y/n, feel so good around me”, he whimpers into your kiss, pulling away suddenly and fisting his cock over your stomach, where he groans as ropes of his cum cover your stomach, some getting on Bucky’s thighs.

Steve collapses beside Bucky on the couch, catching his breath as he looks over the two of you. “Wow” is all Steve can get out, honestly in shock over what just happened. “Wow, indeed,” Bucky says, chuckling lightly, standing up with you in his arms.

Your eyes are closed as you rest against his chest, too tired to speak. “I’m gonna take y/n to the bathroom to get cleaned up.. join us?” Bucky smiles at Steve. Steve nods in agreement as he follows the two of you to your bathroom, where the three of you share a warm shower and cuddle in bed afterward. The three of you fall asleep for a nap, your body sandwiched between the two super soldiers’.

#stucky #stucky fic #stucky x reader #dom!bucky #dom bucky #dom bucky barnes #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x bucky barnes #sub steve rogers

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skzsauce01 · 3 years

Text

Bird Is the Word

Synopsis: A series of drunk texts leads to one of the best and worst things that has ever happened to you. Or, Han Jisung is never going to let you forget the time you forgot the word ‘bird.’ College AU. Not a text fic but does include some texts.

Warning: alcohol, a lot of bird puns

Word Count: 8.1k

Pairing: fem!reader x Han Jisung

2:23 AM [Me]: sOS SOS SOS SOSOSOS 2:23 AM [Me]: I NEED HELPPPP 2:23 AM [Jisung Bio]: You okay?? 2:23 AM [Me]: YOU SMART HELPPPPP

2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Do you want me to call the police?? 2:24 AM [Me]: WHAT ARE THE FLUFFY ANIMALS THAT GO FLAP CALLED 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Is this a code word? 2:24 AM [Me]: THEY GO FLAP AND EAT SEEDS 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Do you mean birds? 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Are you drunk?

2:25 AM [Me]: [blurry_photo_of_your_window.jpg] 2:25 AM [Me]: HERE LOOK 2:25 AM [Me]: YES BIRDS 2:25 AM [Me]: THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH 2:25 AM [Me]: LOVE YOUUUUU

In your defense, you were drunk. And when you are drunk, your critical thinking skills disappear and are replaced by pure, uninhibited stupidity. It’s like some twisted Jekyll and Hyde situation, but only when you drink, you transform into this other version of yourself instead of suppressing it.

You mostly remember the things you have done and said while under the influence. The most embarrassing ones tend to be fuzzy. If it weren’t for the grainy phone video taken by Seungmin and your own voice cheerfully declaring that you had an idea, you wouldn’t have realized that you were the idiot who tried to make a chalk mural at the four-way intersection in the middle of the night. You didn’t even have chalk, but that didn’t stop you from drawing on the asphalt with a broken pen you found on the sidewalk.

Good thing Seungmin had the foresight to drag you back to the crosswalk before a car could come speeding by.

However, that legendary act of idiocy doesn’t even compare to this new one. Forget the fact that you could have died.

Your biology class just went over survival of the fittest using Darwin’s finches as an example. How in the world did you forget about the word ‘bird?’ Why did you think it was a good idea to ask the cute guy in your bio study group about “THE FLUFFY ANIMALS THAT GO FLAP?” And why, why, why did you insist on telling him that you loved him? The ‘THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH’ was already enough.

Jisung is never going to let you live this down.

It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s not like you spent the entire Sunday morning knocking back glasses of water and wishing it was vodka instead. It’s not like you drafted about five different apology messages and deleted them all. It’s not like you have to see him in class tomorrow.

Really, you’re fine.

You go out of your way to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible, which probably means you are very conspicuous. Do normal people not wear hoodies and sweatpants to class now, or are you just overthinking everything? The two people in the row in front of you are wearing jeans, and the girl heading down your row has a polka-dotted dress on. A secondary glance at the girl tells you that it’s another member of your study group. Speaking of the study group, maybe you should find another one. Preferably one without Jisung in it.

“Morning,” Lia says as she takes the seat beside you. She sets down her purple water bottle on the floor with a light clink. “How was your weekend?”

Terrible, but you say, “It was fine. I finished up the readings and did some notes. How about you?”

“Those readings took me forever!” she groans. “I was trying to finish everything on Saturday, so I could go out on Sunday. Which I did manage to do, so it all worked out. I got a new dress!” She plucks at the bodice of her dress, and you finally take a closer look at the pattern.

They’re not polka dots. They’re freaking birds — swoopy doves with outstretched wings. Or at least you think they’re doves. Your lack of bird knowledge speaks for itself.

“It’s pretty,” you hollowly say. The universe seems determined to remind you of your texts. Lia’s face falters, and you realize your disdain came across as you lying. “No, it’s not like that! Just… bad experiences with birds. You look really nice in this.”

She brightens up. “Oh, thanks! What do you mean by ‘bad experiences?’ What happened?”

“Good morning, birdbrain!”

“That happened.”

Looking far too happy for a Monday morning, Jisung takes the other seat beside you. He has a cup of coffee stacked high with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle, and you wonder if his extreme cheerfulness is from the caffeine or from your impending public humiliation. Why did you have to pick this guy to have a crush on? Sure, he’s cute and smart and sometimes nice, but there are plenty of people who have those traits without his witticism.

Lia looks at you with more amusement than concern. “So what happened?”

You tell her about what really happened during the weekend, and Jisung laughs all the while, reenacting his facial expression when he received your first frantic SOS message. Meanwhile, you sink lower and lower into your chair, ignoring your tailbone’s cries of pain as you slide further down the thin cushion.

“You can’t hide forever,” Jisung remarks as he looks at your slumping form. “C’mon, it wasn’t that bad. And you were drunk anyway.”

Yeah, you were, but the whole thing is doubly embarrassing because of how much you want him to like you. The overenthusiastic, all-caps messages are normal whenever you text while drunk, but ‘I love yous’ and the even rarer ‘I LOVE YOUUUU’ are few and far between. Only six people excluding Jisung have received them: your parents, your best friend, and your statistics group project members because you accidentally sent the message to the wrong chat.

On the bright side, seven is a lucky number. It means absolutely nothing in this case, and it’s hardly relevant to how you’re feeling, but everyone copes differently. Yours just happens to be clinging onto any silver lining available for solace.

“Anyway,” Lia cuts in, saving you from replying, “you’re here early, Jisung.”

He shrugs and flashes her a playful smile. However, his eyes are focused on you when he says, “You know what they say: early bird gets the worm.”

You give him a pitiful attempt of a withering glare. “I hate you.”

“Okay, fine.” He tugs at the shoulder of your hoodie to motion for you to stop trying to melt into the ground and to help you up. “It’s ‘cause I knew you would be here early.”

You are calm, you are fine, you will not be flustered. He just teased you five seconds ago; you should not be this willing to forgive him under these circumstances. Nonetheless, you slide back up to a more normal sitting position and try to pretend that you are still mildly upset. His next sentences make that impossible.

“You guys want brownies? Felix was stress-baking again.”

One may call you easily swayed by food, and they would be right. Jisung lets you have a coveted corner piece, and you decide that he’s alright again. He stretches an arm in front of you to get to Lia, and you lean back to avoid bumping into him. It also gives you a clear view of his profile. Wow, is he pretty. Look at that jawline. Suddenly his eyes go wide, and his mouth splits into a familiar excited grin.

“Are those birds?”

“Yep,” Lia answers, looking over at you to check your reaction. She tries to hide her smile, but it’s clear as day. You’re not entirely sure what she’s going to say next, but you already know it’s going to involve your current least favorite animal species. “Pretty… dove-ly, don’t you think?”

At least you were right about them being doves. “I hate you both.”

Jisung laughs at her pun and holds out his palm for a high-five. “You know what they say: birds of a feather flock together.”

“I really hate you both.”

Your initial prediction that Jisung is never going to let you live this down is correct. When you meet your bio group again Thursday night to study for the upcoming quiz, Jisung brings lemon poppy seed muffins for seemingly no other reason than to tease you. His housemate is still stress-baking, and judging by the bird silhouette made of glaze, Felix is very stressed and very eager to indulge in Jisung’s ideas.

“They’re finches!” Jisung proudly announces as he sets one right in front of you. The stupid decoration on top mocks you, but the muffin looks and smells delicious.

Hyunjin, who does not know about your current plight but does know about Darwin’s finches, appreciatively coos at them. “They’ve even got different beak shapes! These are so cool. Man, Felix must hate econ right now.”

“No kidding,” you mutter as you begin peeling off the wrapper. Felix must hate you as well because one bite of this is almost enough for you to forgive Jisung again. It’s that good. How are you supposed to stay mad at Jisung when he gives you free delicious food? “Forget college, he needs to be in culinary school.”

He smirks from across the table, and it takes a lot of willpower for you to pretend you’re unphased. “What if I told you that I made these?”

“Then I would call you a liar.” He better be lying. You do not need another reason to justify your crush on him.

“And you would be right.” He slides his plastic container down to Lia, who has just arrived and is eyeballing the muffins like a predator. “But I did help him.”

“It’s really good,” you admit. You continue nibbling on it, determined to make the muffin last as long as you can. “What part did you help him out with?”

“The birds on top. Turns out drawing them with runny glaze is hard. I gave you the prettiest one, so don’t get mad about the whole bird thing. It goes with what we’re studying too.”

“Fine,” you sigh as you fold the wrapper into halves over and over again. “But only because these are amazing.”

Hyunjin leans in closer, effectively popping the intimate bubble you and Jisung were in. “What’s ‘the bird thing?’”

Fortunately, Yeji has finally arrived, which gives you the perfect excuse to stop Jisung from letting another person know of your drunk texts. You make a big production of pulling out your notebook from your backpack and rifling through your pencil bag for a pen.

“Should we get started?” you ask. Lia nods and uncaps one of her many highlighters.

“I’ll tell you later,” Jisung whispers to Hyunjin, winking at you. You could cry, melt, die. You could do a lot of things, but you opt to stick your tongue out at him. So what if you’re being childish? You can barely concentrate on the real world after that wink. To Yeji, he says, “There’s snacks, if Lia hasn’t eaten them all yet.”

“Hey!”

Hyunjin laughs at her notorious sweet tooth before turning to Yeji. “He gave Y/N the prettiest one, so there’s probably only his fails left.”

“They’re not bad!”

Lia has only had two, so there are more than enough to choose from. Yeji peers inside the container before selecting the one closest to her.

“Is this a plague doctor?” she asks as she suppresses a laugh. “It’s got a top hat.”

Jisung shakes his head and groans. “You chose the worst one on purpose. It’s one of Darwin’s finches. You would have known if you studied.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t draw.” Taking no notice of Jisung’s affronted expression, she takes out the textbook the five of you split the cost to buy. “Okay, plague doctor cupcakes out of the way, what are the four main theories of evolution?”

“They’re lemon poppy seed finch muffins,” he clarifies.

“That’s not an evolution theory,” Hyunjin cheekily replies, earning him an elbow nudge from Jisung and a laugh from everyone else.

You end up answering Yeji’s question and reward your correct answer with another muffin. Besides them being addictive, you’ll need some energy for the rest of the study session if all this talk about birds persists. You select the most plague doctor-ish one out of the box, and Jisung notices.

“Seriously?” he pouts. “I give you the best one, and this is how you repay me? I thought you said you weren’t mad about the bird thing.”

You ignore the last sentence. “What? You’re not proud of these?” you say, mock astonished as you give him a good view of the glaze on top. “They look exactly like plague doctors.”

“I hate you.”

You smile and shrug before returning back into the discussion about Lamarckism. Let him get a taste of his own medicine.

Unfortunately, as promised and as possible revenge, Jisung tells Hyunjin about ‘the bird thing,’ and Yeji overhears since she is only two chairs away. You try melting into the ground instead, but Lia holds you in place as the story continues, so you are stuck reliving the memory. You knew Jisung wouldn’t let you forget, but you didn’t account for everyone else in the group finding out and joining in on the torture.

But thanks to Jisung’s brilliant idea to bring those spectacularly decorated muffins, he doesn’t go unscathed either. It’s a mediocre consolation prize, but you’ll take it.

All around, it’s a productive study session, if a bit long, courtesy of everyone’s unrelenting shots at you and Jisung.

Your study group splits off in three separate directions once you’re all at the library entrance: Yeji back to the on-campus dorms where she’s an RA, Hyunjin and Lia to the off-campus apartments a few streets down, you and Jisung to the bus stop to your apartments on the other of campus. There’s a few people already sitting at the bench, so you and Jisung stand under the streetlight nearby. A moth intent on reaching the light source rams itself repeatedly against the glass covering, and you tiredly watch it. You yawn.

“Not much of a night owl?” he asks. With no clever reply ready, you gently shove him towards the bushes, but he only sways at your push. He throws his hands up in surrender. “Alright, I’ll stop for today.”

“I’m really sorry for sending you that,” you say. You haven’t touched the chat between you and him since the incident. “And for not apologizing earlier.”

“It’s alright. Although I almost had a heart attack when you sent me ‘SOS’ like five times.”

You grimace as you remember your frantic texts. If you think back hard enough, you remember furiously tapping at your screen, trying to get his attention as quick as possible because you really, really, really needed to know what the animal that landed on your windowsill was called. Your housemate was in the next room over. You could have asked her instead, but no, you decided that Jisung from bio was the best option. Not even the group chat, just Jisung himself.

“Sorry again,” you weakly reply.

“It really is alright. Finding bird puns is my new favorite hobby now.” He wryly smiles. “I have so many more to try on you. You’re gonna love it.”

Is that endearing or annoying? Living rent-free inside his head isn’t terrible, especially since he seems to do the same in yours. You’ll probably have to endure lots more puns from him in the future, but for now, you’ll decide that it’s endearing.

The bus arrives, and you sit in the back with him. The ride to the apartment complex is quiet; only a group of people near the front are speaking to one another in low voices. Jisung makes no attempt at continuing the conversation, and you are content to stare out into the neon lights outside the window. You can see him in the reflection on the glass. The empty container devoid of muffins sits on Jisung’s lap, his phone placed face down on the lid. If it weren’t for all the other passengers on the bus, you would be convinced that it was just you and him, enjoying each other’s company.

You’re almost sad when you reach your stop.

“Do you want me to walk you to your apartment?” he asks as you step down to the pavement. “Yours is farther down, right?”

“Isn’t your place right here?” you say. You’ve seen him walk out from this particular complex several times while waiting for the bus. That’s not stalking. “You don’t have to go out of your way. It’s just a block away.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely walking you home.”

You hesitate a bit, but Jisung is already taking small steps in the direction of your apartment. A little more time with him doesn’t sound too horrendous right now. “Okay.”

Just like the bus ride, no conversation, which suits you fine. Jisung seems more enthralled by looking into the windows of apartment residents anyway. You can’t blame him, especially when it appears that someone is having their own mini rave in their living room. Once at the doors to your building, you thank him and tell him good night.

“No problem and good luck tomorrow.” His voice is softer at night, or maybe it’s because he’s tired as well.

Your tone matches his as well. “You too. See you in class then.”

“Good night.”

A few minutes after midnight, just as you’re about to get into bed, a message from Jisung pops up. Not Jisung in the study group, just Jisung.

12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: Hey, I know you’re not much of a night owl, so would you call yourself a morning lark? 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: You’re always an early bird to class 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: Are you emu-sed? 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: :D

Well, he did say he would stop for the day. It’s technically the next day. You reply with an annoyed face before burrowing yourself under your blankets. There are other things to worry about, such as your quiz in nine hours.

You dream of birds, namely finches, that night. Thanks, Jisung.

“This is why I tell you to never drink alone,” Seungmin laughs. He picks up the last slice of pizza from the pan and folds it in half like the heathen he is before taking the first bite. “Bad things always happen.”

“To be fair, Ryujin was home.”

“In a completely different room from you.”

You groan and supplement your exasperation with an extra aggressive tear on your crust. “Okay, fine. I’ve learned my lesson. The point is, he won’t stop with the bird jokes, and I’m going insane.”

Seungmin, having been collateral damage from your drunken mishaps before, is unsympathetic. He still hasn’t quite forgiven you for the time you tried to make a Molotov cocktail in his kitchen. Look, the clickbait video you watched online promised that it would be a fun and easy science experiment, and your other self decided that it was a fantastic idea. Nothing bad happened in the end though since you couldn’t find a lighter. So, Seungmin, it really wasn’t that big of a deal.

“You have a crush on this guy. Why are you upset that he’s flirting with you?”

“He’s cute until he opens his mouth and starts giving me grief about birds.” You sigh as you remember the last text he sent: a photo of the sunset from his apartment window with the caption, A bird’s eye view of the neighborhood. On one hand, you were thrilled to have received a non-homework related picture. On the other hand, bird joke.

“You would do the same.”

“I know, but it still sucks.” You wipe your fingers with a napkin and amuse yourself with spinning the empty pan as Seungmin (slowly) finishes eating. “No more Jisung talk. How was your date?”

Seungmin turns flustered, just like you knew he would. “It wasn’t a date! I’m just her photographer. This is a business arrangement, nothing else.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

“Hey, is that Jisung over there?” he asks, nodding over your shoulder.

“I’m not that gullible,” you sigh, though you can’t say you aren’t tempted. Seungmin loves to make fun of you, and he probably wants to get back at you for teasing him about the girl he’s been spending a suspicious amount of time with.

“Gull-ible?”

“Not you too," you plead. It's already awful with one person. To deter him any further, you continue, "Anyway, back to your definitely-not-a-date date—”

“Hey, Y/N, is that you?”

Seungmin has his “I told you so” face on. After sending him a glare, which he promptly pretends not to see, you turn around, resting your forearm on the back of your chair. Jisung, holding a pan of oven-fresh pizza, smiles back at you.

“Hey,” you greet. He's wearing the same black and red sweatshirt he usually has on, but why does he look so much better in it when he's in a pizza place than in class or in the library? “How are you doing? How’s your Saturday so far?”

“I just woke up like an hour ago, so it’s been pretty good, I guess.” His eyes go to Seungmin, who is now sipping on his soda, pretending to not eavesdrop. “Is this your…”

“This is my friend, Seungmin,” you quickly answer. Other than the fact that you need to make it abundantly clear that you are available, there is no way you’re ever going to date Seungmin. Apart from the girl he claims to not be dating, he’s even more merciless when it comes to reminding you about your drunken ideas. You can’t pass the intersection without him nudging your arm. “Seungmin, this is Jisung. We have bio together.”

Seungmin nods like he hasn’t heard of Jisung before. “Hey, nice to meet you. So, do you guys learn about birds in bio?”

Jisung lights up like a Christmas tree, and you want to cover yourself with the pizza pan. Praying for the ground to swallow you up also sounds like a decent option. In the midst of debating whether hiding under the table would be too odd, you notice that Seungmin has finally finished his slice.

“We should get going,” you interrupt. You do not need Seungmin to start sharing other stupid things you’ve done. He’s about five seconds away from telling Jisung about the intersection chalk mural. “And you probably want to eat dinner.”

Jisung sees right through your act, but he lets it go. “Yeah, Felix is probably starving. See you on Monday?”

“Yeah, see you.”

You expect him to go to wherever Felix is, but he still remains behind you. With a lopsided grin, he asks, “Should I expect any quail-ity texts at 2 AM tonight?”

Seungmin laughs, Jisung laughs, and you stare at the ceiling, wondering what you did to deserve this. Surely there were other people you could have in your life besides these two jerks.

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner!” Jisung sings as you correctly answer his question. This week’s study session consists of a game show Jisung has created, and you almost want to believe that he put in all this effort just to say that phrase. “Another point for you.”

You sigh as Yeji slides a wrapped piece of candy towards you. It’s her turn to bring snacks, and though milk chocolate the size of golf balls are great, you’re still dreaming of those wickedly delicious cake slices Jisung shared with you yesterday. Hummingbird cake, he claimed, it was called. Bananas, pineapples, and pecans, all combined together to make a sweet treat. When you cheekily asked why his housemate was so stressed all the time — you really don’t mind. Sorry, Felix — Jisung cheerfully informed you that he made the entire thing himself. After you picked up your jaw from the floor, you stammered something about it being passable. Not nearly as good as Felix’s stuff, you said, lying through your teeth. Jisung, again, saw right through it but let it slide. See? Sometimes he’s nice. However, you did not need another reason to be attracted to Han Jisung, but here you are.

“Seriously, Yeji?” you mumble as you pull apart the blue foil. “You just had to pick the brand named after a bird?” It doesn’t stop you from popping the chocolate into your mouth though.

“They were on sale!”

While you and Yeji bicker about Dove chocolate and how the universe is conspiring against you, Hyunjin answers the next question correctly. Yeji absentmindedly pushes his reward towards him.

“No chicken dinner for me?” he asks.

Jisung shakes his head. “Your question was easy. You get a pheasant instead. Or a quail. Any bird smaller than a chicken works.”

“A hummingbird then?” you suggest. You really need to stop thinking about that cake. “But I hear those aren’t that great.”

“You already ate every single crumb of that cake I gave you!” Jisung says, but there’s not a drop of displeasure in his tone. In fact, he seems rather happy that you liked it so much that you remembered about it. “All my hard work gone in five seconds.”

“You made her a cake?” Lia gasps in disbelief, secretive note checking forgotten. She’s in last place with only six points, so no one cares too much about her cheating. “What about us? We’re your study buddies too!”

Hyunjin and Yeji chorus their agreements, and you realize that he only shared his cake with you. He followed you out of the lecture hall and gave it to you in a plastic container, so you assumed that he also hand delivered a few slices to everyone else. Never mind that he oh-so-conveniently had a fork with him. Never mind that he sat with you at a bench and watched you try a few bites before devouring it all. Never mind all that.

Wait. Does this mean he likes you too?

You fold and unfold your discarded foil wrappers as you contemplate over this revelation, sneaking glances at Jisung all the while. He looks… normal. Infuriatingly so. Same carefree smile, same arguments with Hyunjin, same lackadaisical chair leaning even though he fell backwards that one time. How is one supposed to tell if someone actually likes you when said someone is the same all the time?

Jisung promises to bring something for the next study session to make up for not sharing his cake and continues on with the review game like nothing has happened. However, those thoughts are still in the back of your mind when the session ends. You have gained five more pieces of chocolate and no further information as to whether Jisung is actually into you or not. As per usual, you and he head to the bus stop together. It’s more crowded than last week since it’s only eight.

“Did you have a pheasant time today?” he asks, pausing next to a hedge.

You keep your eyes on the asphalt instead of looking at him. It’s much easier to pretend you’re calm when you don’t have vision of his face. “I see you discovered pheasants recently. And yes, it was fun. Thanks for making it.”

“You don’t want to crow about winning the game?” When you grimace — you did kind of want to point out how amazing your score was but now you don’t — he quickly adds, “Okay, okay. But you’re going to ace that quiz tomorrow.”

And you simply say, “I know,” because you are and because you have nothing else prepared to say.

It goes quiet, and with only the sounds of cars racing by, Jisung abruptly says, “This is a little awkward now. Or should I say… hawk-ward?”

You groan and break your staring contest with the road to give him an exasperated look. A mistake because he’s smiling so wide, squirrels would be jealous of his cheeks. He has no right to be so cute after those jokes. “Why do I feel like you searched up ‘bird puns’ online and are trying to insert them in every possible scenario?”

“Because I did and because I am.” He sighs in contentment. “Those were the best texts I’ve ever received. I’m never letting you forget it.”

You were right about that, and now you have verbal confirmation from the man himself. Another mediocre consolation prize you will gladly accept. But for now, you say, “Well, toucan play at that game, plague doctor Han Jisung.” The only perk of hearing all these wretched jokes is that you are now rather knowledgeable about them. Thank you, Seungmin, for making that one a few days ago.

“They looked just like finches!” he protests, but he’s laughing along, head tilted back. He sighs again. When he turns to face you again, his eyes are soft. “That was a pretty good one.”

“Seungmin came up with it.” There’s a warm feeling spreading across your chest, constricting your air flow and making all your blood rush to your cheeks. It was one compliment; why are you like this? What are you going to do if he keeps looking at you like that? You swiftly go back to the road, counting the number of cars that pass by. One, two, three, four…

And a gray bus pulling up to the curb.

“Bus is here,” you uselessly announce. Jisung follows you into the growing crowd surrounding the entrance. He hovers behind you as the two of you wait for the people in front to board, and his presence is more palpable than usual. “There’s a lot of people today,” you remark in a vain attempt to distract yourself.

“Yeah, everyone’s heading home for the day.” He pauses dramatically before adding, “The birds are all going back to their nest.”

The joke successfully snaps you out of your haze. “That’s not a real saying.”

“I think it should be. It makes perfect sense!”

“You’re—” As the line shuffles forward, you try to think of something bird related, but he beats to the punch.

“Cuckoo?”

It’s almost impressive how much time he has invested in annoying you. Does it make you fall for him more? No, not really, or so you try to convince yourself. It’s strangely endearing, just like everything about him. You merely answer, “Yes.”

He chuckles and nudges you forward up the steps of the bus.

Even though there’s a little bit of daylight left, Jisung walks you back to your apartment building. You’re not upset by this, but where was this chivalry two weeks ago after the first study session? You teasingly ask him about it, and he turns bashful. How unlike him.

“I thought you lived in my complex, for some reason. You were always at the bus stop before me, so I assumed you lived nearby. I didn’t know until I overheard you and Yeji talking about it,” he says, hiding himself with his collar.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” you say, stopping in front of the walkway to your building, “see you tomorrow then. Thanks for walking me back. Good night.”

The Jisung you’re used to seeing, is back with a mischievous smile and yet another joke. “Good night-ingale.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and try not to seem too amused by it. He’s not charming, not even a little bit. “That was awful.” It’s the smile, you tell yourself. No one should have one like that. It has too much power.

“Yet I can see you smiling at it.”

Remain calm. You can do that. You’ve faked this before, so why is your head not cooperating right now? Jisung really needs to stop looking at you with anything more than a neutral face. It’s bad for you, like really, really bad. No witty remarks at the ready is typical, but you can’t even think of anything to say.

After an excruciating five seconds, you manage to stammer out, “Good night.” Cheeks aflame and your heart threatening to pop out of you like a cuckoo clock, you roughly yank open the door and bolt up the stairs. You have too much adrenaline in you right now. Waiting for the elevator knowing that he could be observing your twitchy movements, would be too nerve wracking.

Ryujin asks if you’re alright when she sees you hunched against the kitchen counter, out of breath and muttering to yourself.

“I decided to take the stairs,” you say, which only partially explains your dishevelled state. “I’ll be alright. I think.”

“I’ll get you some water. You look like you're about to collapse.”

Then your phone chimes with a new message, and you decidedly won’t be alright.

8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: Did my nightingale pun quack you up that badly? 8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: Was it that ducking good? 8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: :D

8:23 PM [Jisung Bio]: Anyway, good luck tomorrow. Sleep well and sweet dreams, morning lark

There is no food in the fridge. Well, no proper food. A bag of spinach that expired three days ago but still seems okay, does not count. The same goes for the half empty jar of peanut butter, but Ryujin would likely disagree with that. There’s a reason why the jar is half empty. However, if you actually want to eat something for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow, you need to go shopping.

For some strange reason, it does not occur to you that you can run into Jisung at the grocery store. Jisung belongs in four locations: the bus stop, the lecture hall, the library, and the pizza place you saw him at last week. Not the dairy aisle on a Wednesday night.

“Hey.” You stop in front of him, basket at your feet and hands folded in front of you like the world’s worst defense. Heart, stop beating so fast.

Jisung looks up from his phone to search for the owner of the voice and brightens when he sees that it’s you. “Hey, morning lark.” He has taken to calling you that ever since he sent that particular message. You wish it produced another reaction from you besides pure bliss, but that is the price you pay for pretending to be still annoyed by his jokes. That’s how bad your crush on him now is; you are increasingly beguiled by the puns. “Oh, did you need milk?”

“Yeah.” You grab a blue carton with a picture of a smiling cow from the shelf and place it in your basket. In the meantime, you can’t help but peer into Jisung’s. There is a bag of chocolate chips and a packet of gelatin. “Is this stuff for tomorrow’s study session?”

He nods and grabs the same brand of milk as you did. You get a rush of excitement, much to your chagrin. It’s just milk, and this is the most popular brand too. “Yeah. Felix is trying a new recipe, so you guys get to have some of the failed ones too.”

“What is it? Cheesecake?”

“You’ll see,” he mysteriously says. Then he adds, “You’re gonna love it,” which immediately gives away the theme.

“It’s something to do with birds, isn’t it?”

“You’ll see.”

And when you do see, you’re wrong. Library food rules ignored, at each seat, Jisung has set a slice of layer cake topped with chocolate ganache, no bird motifs of any sort. You take your usual spot at the end of the table and find that yours is slightly larger than the others. Well, except for maybe Lia’s. He has to placate her sweet tooth and her disappointment of not being able to have hummingbird cake.

“Did I not get a message or something?” Hyunjin asks when he takes in the over-the-top display. “Is this a dinner party?”

“Isn’t this against the library’s rules?” Yeji asks as she surreptitiously looks around for any librarians. The surrounding tables of fellow students won’t care.

Jisung elects to not answer Yeji’s concerns. “This is tonight’s snack,” he proudly replies. “Also, Felix wants feedback on it.”

You cut a section off with the plastic fork and marvel at the airiness of the cake. It’s unlike anything you have ever had. The frosting in between the sponge layers is so light, and the ganache is so dark and rich. “This is really amazing. It’s so fluffy. Wow. Tell Felix that he really needs to consider culinary school.”

“Wanna guess what it’s called?”

“Isn’t this just an extra fancy vanilla cake?” you ask. You take another bite, but other than the chocolate ganache on top, you can only taste vanilla. “I don’t know. The… vanilla fluff cake?”

“Nope.” He leans forward, face inches away from yours, lips curled into a smirk, and slowly says, “Bird’s milk cake.”

This can’t be real. Birds don’t even produce milk. “No way. You’re lying.” Even as you say the words, they sound false to your ears. Jisung has made it his mission to find anything and everything bird-related for you, so you doubt he’s lying.

“It’s called this” — he holds up his phone screen — “in Russian. It translates to ‘bird’s milk.’”

Ptichye moloko.

“You convinced Felix to make this, didn’t you?” you say. What are the chances that Felix conveniently wanted to make bird’s milk cake without any nudging from Jisung? Absolutely none. You have never even heard of this dessert before, let alone by it’s Russian name, and you’re willing to bet that Jisung searched up ‘bird cake’ or something of that nature just for this. Maybe that’s how he found out about hummingbird cake too.

“It’s all for you, morning lark,” he cheerfully replies, winking at you. He leans back in his chair again, precariously balancing on the two back legs. “I knew you’d like it.”

Jisung is really not making this easy for you. Forget subtleties, he’s just shamelessly flirting with you now. And in the sanctity of the library of all places! In a poor attempt to save yourself from this mess, you unconsciously begin to slide down the chair, trying to shield your hot face with your raised shoulders. Lia notices this — one of the perks having sat next to you for nearly four weeks during lectures — and grabs your forearm.

“No melting,” she reminds you, “or else you’re going to hit your head on the seat again.”

“I wasn’t melting,” you protest as you wriggle back up. Slowly dying might have been a better descriptor. That wink shot arrows into your already fragile heart. “We’re gonna get in trouble if one of the librarians sees this.”

“Guess we should get started then,” Hyunjin says. Yeji, the only responsible one in the group, begins pulling out the textbook, and everyone laughs at her eagerness. “Not what I meant, but that too.”

After you’re done with the cake and while the others are preoccupied about the timeline of human evolution, Jisung whispers across the table, “Did you still like it?”

“Yeah. No hard feelings about the name because it was good,” you whisper back.

“I thought it would turn out like this, morning lark. I know you love free food too much to be mad.”

The nickname again. You rest your cheek against your palm in a vain attempt to tamp down the growing heat. “Can I get a different name, plague doctor?”

He’s not at all phased by his own nickname, which doesn’t bode well for any future snarky remarks from you. “What, you don’t like birds or something?” He blinks so innocently back at you that you have to stifle a giggle.

“Yeah, well, that’s the—”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Hyunjin interrupts, making you profusely blush and Yeji lightly laugh at the expression, “we’re gonna move on to the next section now. Is that okay?”

“It’s okay,” you reply even though you are most definitely not okay. Jisung, who you notice is uncharacteristically sheepish, echoes your sentiment.

It’s difficult not to stare at Jisung during the remainder of the study session. It seems to be true the other way around as well.

You’re sober when you read the messages, but you don’t think Jisung was when he sent them. Oh, how the tables have turned.

3:02 AM [Jisung Bio]: Good morning morning lark!! 3:02 AM [Jisung Bio]: Winner winner chicken dinner remember? So yes or no?

3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: Or maybe yes or yes? 3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: I really want to go on a date with you 3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: Not lying I swear

3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re always on my mind and every time I see a bird, I think about you 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I bought grey goose because of you 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: [jisung’s_hand_holding_grey_goose_vodka.jpg] 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I don’t even like it that much

3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: You make me dizzy sometimes and I don’t know what to do 3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: You’re probably sleeping so good night larky 3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: Or morning

3:06 AM [Jisung Bio]: Fly high in your dreams!!!

He must have been wasted and under no responsible supervision because this is what you would have done if you were in his place. Does he not have a Seungmin in his life? Or a Ryujin? There’s a Felix, so where was he when all of this happened?

But forget about Jisung’s own problems.

He wants to go on a date with you. A real date, not a study date with three other people and fake quiz questions. If his words are to be taken literally, then one involving a chicken dinner. Possibly a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store, but a chicken dinner nonetheless.

He can’t stop thinking about you. All those bird jokes had you charmed, and all those cakes were baked with you in mind. They weren’t just for show. They were all about you.

You make him dizzy, which is hilarious because he does the same to you. He smiles at you so brightly, laughs so easily, and flirts so shamelessly that you never realized that you could ever make him feel that way.

And “fly high in your dreams?” You’re practically soaring in real life. Han Jisung, cute bio boy, plague doctor, pun enthusiast, surprisingly decent baker, wants to go on a date with you.

You, you, you!

While you alternate between hyperventilating and forgetting how to breathe as you process all this, three gray dots appear at the bottom of the chat. You clutch your phone as you wait. Apparently, your body is on the ‘forgetting how to breathe’ cycle.

11:14 AM [Jisung Bio]: I am so sorry about that. I was very drunk when I sent that

11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: You can just ignore them or delete them 11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: Highly recommend deleting 11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: Also sorry if I woke you up

Your fingers hover over the keyboard. Should you answer him over text, call, or in-person? Is in-person too dramatic though? You feel like something like this is supposed to be done face-to-face, but he’s probably hungover beyond belief.

11:16 AM [Me]: It’s okay. A morning lark is always up early anyway :) 11:16 AM [Me]: Were you serious though?

11:17 AM [Jisung Bio]: Can we meet up in an hour? At the bus stop? I want to talk to you 11:17 AM [Me]: Yeah. Me too

The bus stop is neutral territory or maybe just the closest meeting spot you and Jisung have. If it’s supposed to be neutral territory, it most definitely is not since his apartment complex is right behind it. Despite his close proximity to the spot, you arrive first, so you make yourself as comfortable as possible underneath the sign, standing in its shadow. It’s silly when you think about it, but you wish you dressed in something nicer than a hoodie. In your rush to leave the apartment, you threw on whatever, but maybe you should have worn something prettier for this confrontation. Make Jisung go dizzy and gain a little bit of power from that.

This is even worse than when you had to face him after you sent your drunk texts. At least then it was just a middling attraction and not a full-on crush.

“Hey, morning lark. You’re early. As expected.”

“Hey. You’re… alive.”

Jisung is strangely fresh-faced, not a hint of hungover clouding around him. Why can’t you look like him after a night of seemingly heavy drinking? Where are the pinched eyebrows from the blinding lights? The ghostly gray face? The haunted eyes as one remembers all the incredibly stupid things they did the night before? Unfair. Completely unfair.

“Yeah.” He’s wearing his usual sweatshirt, but his hands are stuffed into its pockets instead of being out and about. He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Well, uh, I meant everything I sent. And I’m serious about taking you to dinner, so do you want to go on a date with me?”

You anticipated this. Why does it feel like you have just finished running a marathon? “Yeah, I do. I really want to.”

He smiles so brightly, the sun would be jealous. Correction, should be jealous. You don’t think you’ve seen a prettier sight than this since he sat down next to you on the first day of class and asked if you wanted to start a study group. He pumps his fist in the air like he’s a movie character, and you hide your laugh behind your hoodie sleeve. You’ve never seen him so happy before.

“How are you not hungover?” you ask as he raises his face to the sky, taking in the afternoon light, basking in the moment. He’s really living his movie character dreams. “You said you were really drunk.”

“I kind of lied?” he says, sounding more wistful than you would expect. When he looks back at you, you finally see dark circles underneath his eyes, but he is still as jubilant as before. “I was more tipsy than drunk. So, when do you wanna get that chicken dinner, winner, winner?”

It’s amazing how shy, excited Jisung disappears and how the usual casual, teasing Jisung reappears. That’s his Jekyll and Hyde moment, you suppose. And the switch is all activated by his one-track mind of bird jokes. How wonderful.

“Next week, after midterms? I’ve got two this week to study for. I should be free on Friday night.”

He enthusiastically nods. “Sounds good to me.”

2:57 PM [Me]: I’m done with all my midterms! Are you free tonight?

2:59 PM [Jisung Bio]: Free as a bird :D 2:59 PM [Jisung Bio]: Also congrats on being done 2:59 PM [Me]: I hate you

3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: So chicken dinner? The restaurant next to the pizza place just opened 3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: I heard it’s really clucking good 3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: A hen out of hen

3:01 PM [Me]: I might actually kill you during our date

3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: Don’t you mean 3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: [flock_of_crows.jpg] 3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: Murder :D

3:05 PM [Jisung Bio]: I’ll see you at 6? 3:05 PM [Me]: See you then

You do not end up murdering Jisung on your date, though you do come pretty close after you audibly ask the ground to swallow you up when he compliments your egg-cellent outfit.

“Swallow?” he slyly says. “Like the bird?”

Instead of committing a crime, you kiss him on the cheek, effectively silencing him. You’ve been waiting to do both those things for some time now, and look at you now, killing two birds with one stone.

Jisung turns a delightful shade of pink and mutters something about needing to get to the restaurant before it gets too crowded. All of his bluster from just five seconds ago is gone. You merrily follow him down the pavement, feeling a little bit like the cat who swallowed the canary.

Yes, you did search up bird expressions beforehand. Jisung will be Jisung, and like you told him before, toucan play at this game. You will not spend your first date with him being humiliated by his large repertoire of puns. Besides, if he retaliates like you expect him to, you will have the perfect excuse to kiss him again.

See? No fowl play at all.

Then he takes your hand into his, his warmth enveloping yours, and everything suddenly isn’t fair again.

And based on his all-too-pleased grin, Jisung knows this as well.

~ ad.gray

412 notes · View notes

breathings-of-the-heart · 3 years

Text

Stuck on You (Levi Ackerman x Childhood Friend! Reader)

A/N: Hi, guys! I just want to preface by saying that this is a TWO (maybe a three if i decide to write an epilogue drabble) PART SERIES, and I have just a few more scenes to write before I can post it! I don’t expect this one to do so well, to be honest, but it’s been so long since I’ve written anything I’m proud of and I think I’m happy with how this turned out. So yes, stay tuned for part 2 which i will link at the end once it is posted. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Angst, season one/no regrets ova spoilers

Word Count: 3.5k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5 years ago

“Why is it that you always seem to be on my case the most?” Your frustration was obvious and your patience dissipated, feet shuffling in their spot as you finally turned to face him. “You never nag Isabel this much.”

For a moment, Levi didn’t respond, scanning your body for injuries. After asserting that you were indeed okay, he stepped over the unconscious man who laid on the ground, jaw set in anger as he walked forwards until he was so close you had to tilt your head slightly to keep eye contact.

Your snappy behavior was uncharacteristic. It only fueled his temper. The raven shook his head in disapproval, trying to keep his anger in check as you glared at him defiantly.

“Isabel doesn’t make such careless mistakes,” he pointed out coldly. “You almost got yourself hurt, (Y/N)! What would you have done if I hadn’t shown up to cover your ass?”

The both of you stood there in silence for several minutes, gazing at each other and listening to your uneven breathing. His face, unlike so many others, never really did reveal everything he was thinking. Feeling. You were dared to search for something else in his steady gaze besides disappointment, but for once, you could not tell what you saw. It was infuriating, humiliating, and hurtful.

“Sometimes I wonder if there’s even a brain inside your thick fucking skull.”

His harsh words didn’t normally cut you, but this time you flinched, looking away from Levi as all the fight drained out of you.

 Wearing your jewelry out at night was a careless mistake, that you could admit. What was hard to swallow was the fact that you had just been mugged, and nearly assaulted, yet all Levi could do was find the time to scold you, not seeming to care at all if you were shaken up by what happened.

It didn’t scare you that the other man’s hands found their way onto your skin. It didn’t scare you that something bad could have happened had Levi not knocked him out. You weren’t afraid of any of it; you were afraid that all the raven-haired man could see you for were your mistakes.

“So you think I’m a burden then?” you asked, choking up.

Your change in tone caught Levi’s attention. You suddenly looked smaller, and more vulnerable than the last time he looked at you. He sighed again, shaking his head softly. It took all your strength not to shy away from his fingers as they threaded through your hair, stopping on your shoulder and tugging you against him. You let Levi do it nonetheless, knowing this was his way of saying sorry; knowing this was his way of saying: “I’m tough on you because I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

You pressed your ear against his beating heart, letting the sound soothe you.

“No, brat. I don’t think that. Let’s just go home, and forget about it,” his voice was more gentle this time.

You sniffled and nodded, chest bursting as Levi placed a feather light kiss on the top of your head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You never thought you’d miss the Underground. Especially when taking into consideration the miserable days after Levi, Isabel, and Farlan took that fateful deal, and were forced to leave you behind.

Your feelings on the matter were conflicted, of course, but you were relieved and happy that the people who mattered most had such a big opportunity. They didn’t need to see you crying, nor hear about how scared you were to be by yourself. Each one deserved better than that, so you put on a brave face as they reassured you over and over that they’d come back. You beamed as brightly as you could, sending them off with words of encouragement as you continued fighting off the lingering feeling of dread as they left.

You didn’t want to be a nuisance. Never wanted to be the reason they’d hold themselves back.

Although he didn’t show it, Levi took it the hardest. He implored you to stay alive, in a scolding tone that he only ever used when he was worried. You could hold your own, but weren’t a fighter like the other three. The stern male had only ever been thankful of your gentle nature in the past, surprised to be cursing it now that he couldn’t protect you. But for him, you’d try your hardest, knowing that with a little faith and patience, you could be reunited in the future.

The goodbye had been bittersweet, your lips slotting against his for the very first time. In a way, the way he kissed you seemed more like a promise than a farewell. His arms were wrapped around you all night, warmth lulling you to a sleep that otherwise, would never have been able to claim you.

Parting afterwards the following morning became all the more difficult because of it.

When Levi pulled a few strings with his newfound respected status and got the military to sponsor your citizenship, you were over the moon. Becoming a soldier was the last thing you expected out of your life, but wherever Levi and the others went, you would gladly follow. You felt at home again, throwing your arms around the man for the first time in months and giggling at the fact that while he accepted the gesture and patted your head awkwardly, his lack of affection never changed.

But you were quickly learning that the ideological existence that lived right above your head was just an illusion. You came only to find your friends dead, and Levi more closed off to you than he’d ever been before. Up here, things were far from perfect, and as time went on, you instead yearned for the past if only to appreciate it better a second time around. And although things slowly got better, life was not yet finished throwing its hardships your way.

The last person you had left slowly became out of reach, as time apart inevitably distanced the two of you and gave someone else the opportunity to fill that hole in his heart.  

Reality, you found, was much crueler under the blue of the sky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You don’t have to deny it, Levi. I know you better than anyone. I see the way you look at her,” you whispered, wringing your hands together in a feeble attempt to rid of the painful churn in your stomach. “I see it because you used to look at me that way.”  

It was admirable, at least, the effort you put in to keep your voice even. But the silence that followed those broken words was pitiful. The silence made it even more difficult to meet the gaze of the man in front of you. Levi had every opportunity to deny the truth of your burning statement; to bring you back into his arms and reaffirm his love like he used to. Like he would if maybe things were different.

You knew, he had no desire to do that now. Instead, the Captain’s eyes screwed shut and a light sigh escaped his perfect lips, the warmth of it tingling your skin. It was nostalgic, almost, being alone with Levi like this. His face was nearer to yours then it had been in months, enough so that you could make out every tiny detail. The irony of it seemed mocking: for once, you couldn’t bear to look at him. Not that you needed to, with every feature of his sure to forever haunt your memory.

But now all you could see were the interactions they had. Your vision consisted of watching as their bond and understanding grew. It was created in such a short amount of time, but hardly unpredictable with the amount of time Levi and Petra spent together. Even if Levi himself had not realized it, for you, it was plain as day. You knew him better than anyone. Could see that there was no pain in Levi’s eyes when he looked at her. Afterall, unlike you, Petra wasn’t a painful reminder of the past.

Despite his physical closeness, this was the most detached you’ve ever felt from the male. The space between you was strange and unfamiliar. Lonely and cold.

At your words, he exhaled through his nostrils.  

“I would never be unfaithful, (Y/N). I never have been,” he spoke firmly, in that certain tone of speaking only he could manage. “I promised I would never leave you.”

A tear spilled down your cheek, despite your best brave face. It was too much to handle, even for a calloused girl like you. Because despite everything, Levi had always been there. It seemed scary to have life any other way.

Said man took your hand gently, handling it like porcelain. It wasn’t until his skin touched yours that you realized your fingers were shaking, and your facade was crumbling. His gesture was another reminder of what once was. The familiarity of his skin a testament to all the time spent simply existing with one another.

How did it come to this?

“A lot has changed since then, it seems,” you laughed softly, for once pulling away from his touch. “I bet you can’t even look at me without thinking about those two, huh?”

You never once thought it was his fault. Even if you told him that, you knew Levi would always take accountability. Knew he would blame himself for taking Isabel and Farlan away from you. You should have seen this coming. It was inevitable that your love would be tainted, and that he’d find it somewhere else, even if it was unintentional.

“(Y/N), wait—“ there was a small panic that awoke in the raven’s steely eyes that only those who truly knew him would be able to detect.  

“—You know how I feel about you, don't you? I want to be the one who you'd wake up next to every morning. The person you'd trust enough to spill all your secrets to, the one you want to hold close, the one who would make it hurt too much to ever let go. I want to be the person who can make you smile, or laugh until you can't breathe. Your first and last thought of the day, and the one you wonder about even when they’re not around.”

You swallowed a whimper, fists clenched at your sides as your restraint came undone. It was all you’d ever wanted since you were small and starving and Levi was all you had to hold onto.

"But more than anything I want you to be happy. You deserve it.”

And because that’s how much I love you.

“I’d spent the rest of my life with you, if you asked me to,” the stoic Captain stated, as simply and mindlessly as if reciting the weather.

You knew it was true. You also knew better than to let your mind wander to that fantasy, or to let a world come into fruition in which you stopped Levi from pursuing his happiness; held back simply because his loyalty knew no bounds. You refused to be that selfish. You’d rather die a miserable death, a thousand times over. Rather endure this anguish for as long as it resided in your heart then watch his indifference turn to hatred as years of a one-sided relationship droned on and on.

He doesn’t want you anymore.

“I know, Levi.” You paused for a long moment. “Petra's wonderful. I don't hate either of you, I want you to remember that."

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying desperately to forget the feeling of Levi’s lips on your skin, your face against his chest. The warmth between your ribs or the butterflies in your stomach, or the fireworks of passion that only he could make you feel. Tried to forget the rare but special, secret words of affirmation only your ears got to hear, and the goosebumps they’d send across your skin.

You wanted to erase it all, if only to make it easier to walk away with the knowledge you’d never feel any of that again.

It was pathetic.

There wasn’t anything left to be said. So with the task near impossible, looked at your lover, your best friend, your rock, your Levi, and turned away.

You only managed three steps before a voice followed you and a hand closed around your wrist.

“Is this what you want?” He sounded apathetic, but you knew better. His underlying worry only made the pain feel worse.

“I don’t know.” At the very least, you were honest.

"Will I see you again?"

As adaptable as he was, Levi was never a fan of the unconventionality that was “change.” He was never surprised, quick to go with the flow, even if he preferred certainty and steadiness.

This conversation, though, was one he never expected.

"Of course," you forced a tiny smile, knowing it was more convincing than it felt. "I just need a breather. I'll be back for dinner." The words tasted bitter in your mouth.

That was the first and only lie you'd ever tell Levi Ackerman, having handed in your resignation papers to Erwin just yesterday.

Forgive me, Levi.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Snow fluttered down from the sky, coating the local shops and roofs of buildings with a thick, white blanket. Merchants and store owners alike grumbled their disapproval, bustling to sweep the front of their shops. The air was crisp and biting, yet you relished in the feeling and absorbed the atmosphere. Drunk garrison soldiers loitered around merrily, cheeks flushed from alcohol, catching the flakes in their hair and occasionally slipping on hidden ice in their drunken stupor. It made you chuckle softly, the residences of Wall Roses’ inconvenience the source of your contentment-- this was your first time seeing snow, the real thing a thousand times better than anything you read about in any book.

You strolled through the marketplace, a basket holding bread, dried meats, cheese, and several fruits resting in the crook of your elbow. Your coin purse felt lighter than it had that morning, yet you carried on nonetheless, curious as to what Wall Rose had to offer. Children ran past you, throwing snowballs at each other and nearly running into you because of their haste. The sight made you grin as one of them bumped into one of the street market’s booths, knocking over a few items as he went.

The woman behind the counter chastised them, her shouts growing louder when they barely spared her a glance and blended into the crowd of shoppers. Nick nacks and books were left scattered in their wake, askew on the cobblestone ground.

“Need help, ma’am?,” you asked her, picking up the objects from the ground.

“Thank you, dearie,” she sighed gratefully, taking them from your hands. “Kids these days, so reckless and always in such a hurry.”

You laughed airily, mirth swimming in your eyes.

“You’re just lucky they didn’t steal anything,” you joked, reminiscing about your own thieving past. Your attention turned towards the noting the soldiers now dozing off on top of their card table nearby, tutting their behavior lightheartedly. “Levi, if only the police were like that back when we--”

Out of habit, you turned around to meet his gaze, heart clenching when you remembered he wasn’t there. Your fists clenched to prevent you from smacking yourself at your carelessness. He’s not here, dumbass.

“What was that, hun?” the woman behind the counter inquired, preoccupied in sorting her things.

You put on your best smile, shaking your head before your thoughts could fill with images of a certain raven-haired, steele-eyed, heart-stopping male. The back of your eyes stung, the momentary joy of your first real winter quickly fading away.

“Nothing important.”

This is for the best, (Y/N). You’ve only ever gotten in the way, his whole life. Let the man be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a few years since that last encounter with him. Part of you still wondered if Levi tried looking for you after realizing your true intentions of never coming back. You hoped he didn't, imagining instead that he'd made the most of the opportunity you'd given him. Prayed that it wasn't all for naught and he instead pursued what (or who) truly made him happy, instead of worrying about other people. In truth, you became content with life, learning to look back on memories fondly and being thankful for their existence.

Residing above ground was enough reason to be grateful in itself, and you did your best to make the most of it. Your days were now spent in ways that paid tribute to your humble beginnings: individuals from the underground who managed to secure citizenship to the surface were put into your care. You helped men, women, and children alike assimilate into living on the surface, which included introducing the area, and assisting in finding housing and jobs. It was rewarding work, but more than anything, reminiscent to be able to see the wonder when their eyes meet the clouds for the very first time. The flickers of hope from your clients were things you carried with you every day. Your chosen profession left plenty of free time, however, as it was relatively rare for individuals to pay the hefty toll of climbing up those stairs.

Your life was average, and for the most part, uneventful. The quietness that accompanied mediocrity proved to be comforting, however. It was a far cry from the days of constantly looking over your shoulder and needing to carry a knife in your boot, just in case.

At first, it was difficult not to cry at the thought of the stoic, raven-haired Ackerman. The heartache weighed down in your chest for a good amount of time. The simplest things reminded you of Levi, but after a while, instances where he’d cross your mind became fewer and further between. With a nicer home than anything you previously owned, a livable income, and an overall peaceful existence, you didn’t have any regrets.

At least, that was what you told yourself until you heard the news.

On off days you worked as a waitress at one of the many taverns within Wall Rose. Large tips were one of the many perks that drew you in originally. The chatter of the customers and frequent bar-goers was a welcome ambience, and an opportunity for you to combat the occasional feeling of loneliness.

Occasionally, Scout Regiment gossip would filter through, especially about Humanity’s Strongest and the new titan shifter Eren Jeager. Updates were nice, knowing Levi was safe and thriving in what he did best. But as you placed a pint of beer on one of the tables and overheard a heavy set man babble loudly to his comrade, dread splashed over you in waves.

“The Captain was the only survivor in his squad. He wasn’t even with them when it happened, poor guy. He must feel terribly guilty.”

Your vision became hazy as you tried not to panic; of all the rumours that filtered through the drunk mouths of customers, you had never heard bad news like this before. The last you’d heard, human kind was given a beacon of hope, and things were looking up after Eren Jaeger managed to plug up the hole in Trost.

“Excuse me, but which squad did you say this happened to?” you heard your voice say.  

Across the table, the other man took a swig of his drink, and grunted indignantly.

“Levi Squad, the best in the military I heard. A shame, but I suppose even the top in the Survey Corps are still just suicidal maniacs when it comes down to it.”

No, no, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen!

After that, everything became white noise. You could only register every third movement, heart thundering in your ears. The tray you’d been holding to carry the drinks clattered as it fell to the ground, causing a few gasps and strange looks to be thrown in your direction. In your horrified state, dread weighed down like lead in your body. You rushed to the back room, tears clouding your vision as you tried not to stumble.

You gripped the edges of the washroom sink, dizzy with this newfound information.

Levi has now lost more people that he loved, and was probably experiencing the same survivor’s guilt as he did with Isabel and Farlan. He was most likely suffering alone right now, never having been one to let people see his vulnerability so easily.

You did not witness first hand what your friends’ deaths meant to him. When the Captain waited for you at the top of the staircase, his expression never seemed out of the ordinary. Levi was kind enough to let you enjoy your first few days up with him simply enjoying the newfound freedom. He made the excuse that your two other comrades were out on business somewhere, and would be back to see you soon. Maybe, at the time, your excitement blinded you from the deeper emotions hidden in his voice.

When you found out the truth, their passing broke you. The fact that Levi shouldered any blame, however, is what twisted the knife. He had been grieving by himself; feeling that pain without anyone to comfort him. He had to put on a brave face just to see you; secretly spending that last month alone, probably relaying over and over how he would break the news to you.

Your remorse increased tenfold when it was him who held you, and him who put you back together, just like he had to for himself. And now he was by himself all over again.

I have to do something.

Splashing water on your face, you straightened up and looked in the mirror, a sudden surge of guilt coursing through your veins.

You refused to let Levi be alone this time around, no matter how he might feel about you now.

~~~~~~~

Part Two!

#snk levi #levi #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman gif #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #AoT #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #snk fic #aot fic #levi x reader

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everlasting-stories · 3 years

Text

To Feel Again [M]

Genre: light angst, romance

Warnings[!]: smut, penetration, creampie, unprotected sex, mentions of adult toys

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader

Words: 4.4k / One-shot

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Valentine's Day: the day of roses and hearts and chocolates and romantic candlelit dinners. When people proposed marriage and professed undying love.

You sighed, staring unseeing into your bowl of cornflakes as they succumbed to their milky grave and turned to soggy goop. Funny how a date on a calendar could open the pit of despair that lived somewhere near your stomach. It had to be near your stomach. You've been reasonably hungry until you've noticed the date and the pit opened. Your hunger had fallen into it, and the memories and pain rose out of it.

There was a time when this day had been wonderful. Life had been wonderful, you didn't need Valentine's Day, but you celebrated it with reverence and, sometimes, wild abandon.

You knew what love was, what it felt like to love a man and how it felt to lose him. You remembered what he'd said that last morning, how he'd kissed you; how the sun had lit his face as he smiled, promising he'd be back. You also remembered the police, how the sun seemed to dim as they told you the phrases out of courtesy. They were sorry for your loss. They will let you know of details as soon as the investigation on the accident comes to an end.

Since that time, Valentine's Day had passed unheralded, unheeded and uncelebrated. You knew you were a joke of the office - entering thirties soon and never been fucked, that's what they said. The borning woman who had no idea what fun was, wouldn't have known what to do with a man if by some miracle you did catch the attention of one. They were wrong, of course. Not that it was any of their business; it certainly didn't affect your ability to do your job.

If you chose to act and dress your age and spend your evenings quietly, rather than as mutton dressed as lamb in some gaudy nightclub, surely that was your right?

You sighed again, getting up from the table, taking your cereal bowl and dumping the gloop down the sink. A bleak day of petty jibes and pitying looks lay ahead. At least you knew what to expect this year.

Last year had been your first Valentine's Day with this particular company and, therefore, your first with this particular bunch of malicious people - your fellow employees. As front counter receptionist, you were the company's first "public face" and some of your co-workers had decided it didn't look good if that face wasn't surrounded by gifts from admirers on this day.

When the first bunch of anonymous flowers had arrived, you've been flustered, flattered and flabbergasted that anyone would send you flowers. You had hurriedly cleared a space on the counter for them, proudly displaying them, fussing with them to show them off at their best and make them visible from the greatest distance. You kept touching them, moving them slightly, reaffirming they were really there. Your heart sang; someone had noticed you. Maybe he was too shy to reveal himself; maybe he was married and couldn't: your mind was alive with questions, trying to solve the mystery of their origin. You were all in all happy.

Then a large box of chocolates arrived, closely followed by more flowers. By lunchtime, these had been joined by a little plush cherub, two red plush love hearts, a pair of earrings, three more bunches of flowers, four assorted boxes of chocolates and a large jar of candy hearts. They all carried the same anonymous message. And you knew then and there what is the catch behind this.

By the end of the day there were nine flower arrangements, ten boxes of chocolates, three cherubs, the two red love hearts, three teddy bears, two jars of candy, the earrings and a gift box containing four pairs of edible undies. Just before the close of business the final humiliation came - a fantastically wrapped see through box containing an inflatable male doll with vibrating tongue, a massive purple vibrating dildo and a copy of the Sex for The Beginners book.

You had to stay at your post until the last visitor or client left. But the rest of the staff was already heading out of the building. Some boggled at your desk, some snickered, a couple made loud crass comments and a very few had appeared horrified at the pile of stuff surrounding yourself. The building had almost emptied before that last visitor departed. You were sure that, too, was a set-up, particularly when you saw it was the client that had been visiting quite frequently lately.

Myungsoo ushered the man to the street and turned back to you as you gathered your coat and handbag, ready to escape.

"Gee, you're a popular girl. Who would have thought?" He reached your counter and began collecting up the flowers, grinning madly. "Let me help you with all that."

Before you could say a word, he bundled all the flowers, chocolates and assorted other items into your arms. You could barely see where you were going. Myungsoo put his arm around your back and shepherded you out the door, peeking at the vibrator in its transparent box. "There you go, sweetheart. Looks like you're definitely gonna get some action tonight." He turned smartly away, laughing as he rapidly put distance between the two of you.

You obviously had thrown the whole lot in the nearest dumpster and hurried to the relative sanctuary of your car before breaking down and sobbing, burying your head in your hands to hide from prying eyes of curious passer-bys.

Standing at your kitchen sink, you wondered what they'd pull this year. It couldn't be worse, could it? You sighed again and then abruptly shook your head, standing straighter. To hell with it - you were not going to let them get to you today.

It had already begun when you arrived. A bouquet of irises sat at the front of the counter. You were tempted to throw them straight in the garbage, but decided they were too pretty, too unusual. So they stayed. Curiosity got the better of you as you looked at the card, expecting it to say something sappy and insincere, as last year's cards had.

"You are worth far more than they will ever realise. Hear the flowers."

You pondered the card. Hear the flowers?

What on earth did that mean? You raised an eyebrow as you settled into your post: at least it seemed this year would be more intriguing than last. During quiet moments throughout the morning, you'd pick up the card, reread the cryptic message and study the beautiful bouquet, but its secret was never revealed.

No gifts arrived for you, no more flowers. You were relieved, but it only served to deepen the mystery of the flowers. As your lunch hour approached, other staff began filtering out of their offices to take a break. They all noticed the irises. Several of the women stopped and commented on their beauty. No one laughed.

As always, you left the building for lunch. You would usually grab a sandwich somewhere and do a bit of window shopping. Anything to get away for an hour - if you stayed in the office, someone always "needed" you for something.

When you returned, a neatly typed page was on your desk: "The meaning of flowers". One line was highlighted in blue: "Iris: Have Faith. Don't Give Up On Hope." A single purple violet was pinned to the page. You scanned the page to find "Violet (Purple): You occupy my thoughts". You put the page to one side, but still in view, unsure whether to laugh at it and throw it along with the flowers away before the punch line or wait it out. This was definitely a far more sophisticated assault than last year.

Throughout the afternoon a steady procession of couriers arrived, carrying flowers and gifts. You nervously watched each one approach your counter, only to breathe a sigh of relief as the teddy bears and hearts, the chocolates and flowers were all destined for other souls.

At 4:30PM a man approached your station: nothing unusual in that; everyone that came to see someone had to check in with you. What was unusual was that he actually saw you as a fellow human, not a robot programmed to take names and give directions. He smiled at you, a real smile that reached his eyes and warmed your heart. Something familiar in his eyes...

"Good afternoon. My name is Kim Doyoung. I have an appointment to speak to Choi Myungsoo. Would you mind letting him know I am here, please?"

Quickly, you dialled Myungsoo's extension, giving him the information. Myungsoo, as usual was brusque to the point of rude, telling you to "entertain the idiot 'till I'm ready for him - he's not supposed to be here for another 15 minutes".

You were tempted to tell the polite gentleman exactly what Myungsoo had said, but instead used your tact and diplomacy (that was why you were hired after all) to tell him that "Mr. Choi is a little delayed. He will be available in a few minutes."

With that being said, you offered him a seat.

Again he smiled. "Those are beautiful flowers," he said, nodding towards the iris bouquet. "A discerning choice for a lovely lady."

You lowered your eyes, feeling the heat rise in your face, knowing you were blushing.

His voice softened and became much quieter. "You don't remember me, do you?" Your eyes flew to his face, confused. Were you supposed to know this charming man?

"I had an appointment here at the same time, on this day last year. I was waiting outside for a taxi when you left. That was uncalled for, the whole situation that happened - mean and heartless and exactly what I would expect of Myungsoo and his friends. I deal with them only because I must. They offer a service unparalleled in this town."

He leaned across the counter, his voice so low only you could hear. "How they manage it, I cannot tell. They are pig swill and don't know a pearl when confronted with one." Doyoung paused, seeming to weigh up his next statement, then leaned closer to you. "Did you hear the flowers?"

Your eyes again flew to his face, your mouth falling open a little. "You sent them?"

"I did. And the violet. I had hoped to counter whatever crass display they had planned this year. Would you possibly consider spending the evening with me?" His face was eager, hopeful. "A nice dinner?"

You were stunned, flattered, amazed - but also wary. This was Myungsoo's client. He could easily have been put up to this. You studied his face closely, seeking any hint of a lurking cad. His face fell. "But, of course, you have other plans. I apologise for embarrassing you." He moved away and sat, abashed, on one of the hideous lounge chairs to await his appointment.

You studied this man. He didn't seem to fit the mould of Myungsoo's usual cohorts. For one thing he was unerringly polite. He was also good looking, very, very good looking, without being outstanding or flashy. He was also much closer to your age than Myungsoo's and had an air of quiet confidence, like he had nothing to prove to anyone and nothing to fear from them either. You looked at the flowers. Could Myungsoo have possibly thought of something this elegant? You didn't think so. You took a deep breath: to hell with it.

"Mr. Kim?" He looked up. "What time would you like to pick me up?"

In your bedroom, staring at the clothes hanging limply in your closet, the cool bravado that had claimed you as you agreed to the date vanished. In its place indecision, doubt and outright terror took hold. It seemed painfully obvious to you now, away from the office and that lovely man, that it was all another twisted joke, something for the office beautiful people to laugh at during tomorrow's coffee breaks. Why did you say yes? Your wardrobe was woefully inadequate. It was years since you'd been out with a man; you were bound to make a fool of yourself, even if it wasn't a set-up.

At that thought your heart jumped and lurched. The possibility that Mr. Kim - no, Doyoung; this was a date not a business appointment - was sincere in his wish to take you out only heightened your confusion and indecision.

Finally, in desperation and the realisation that if you didn't decide soon, you'd still be in your underwear when he arrived; you chose a chanel-knee length cremé skirt and baby pink cashmere sweater, topped off with knee length boots. The heels were quite high, but you remembered him being tall, so that wouldn't be an issue, as long as you didn't fall over in them.

You were saved from an overcritical examination in the mirror. You had just completed applying your makeup when Doyoung arrived. You grabbed your coat and quickly walked out the door, before you had time to rethink and back out.

"You look lovely," Doyoung said, smiling down at you. Feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks; you weren't used to receiving compliments, particularly from someone like him. You mumbled a shy thanks as he helped you put on your coat and led you to his car.

Sitting in the car as he drove, you were able to study the mysterious man that is Kim Doyoung. He was extremely handsome, not in the classical sense, but he certainly was far from a plain looking man - a man at peace with himself. He knew who he was and was content with that; he knew what he wanted and how to get it; and what was beyond his capabilities and lost no sleep over it. He obviously managed quite well; his car was expensive but not too flashy.

The restaurant he took you too was a quiet small place, away from the standard eat-and-entertain strip. It was intimate without claustrophobia; the decor was elegant without being overbearing; the lighting low but not dim; the service attentive without being intrusive. The food you could not describe - later, you barely remembered what you had eaten beyond it being "nice" - your attention was totally taken by Doyoung.

He was gallant and charming; helping you with your coat and holding your chair for you at the intimate table for two tucked away in a corner. Doyoung quietly suggested items on the menu he thought you might like. It was obvious he'd been here before, was a regular, but usually without company. His choice of wine was perfect to go with the excellent food as you enjoyed each other's company.

And you talked.

You learned a lot about him. Doyoung was 34, older than you had thought; he had been engaged, but his fiancé decided to break off the engagement for simply falling out of love. He had had a series of short term relationships that had petered out and, for the past several years, had lived a solitary life, rarely going out with women. He didn't work as such; his livelihood came from investments, which explained him being a client of the company you worked in. Myungsoo may be a jerk, but he was the one of the best investment brokers around.

He had been attracted to you the first time he met you, a year ago, but had been intimidated by the evidence of all your admirers. When he realised it was all a cruel joke played by his adviser and the other brokers, he was mortified. He had seriously considered changing brokers, going to another organisation but that would have meant he had no chance of meeting you again. So he stayed. He had been in your office on three occasions since then, and each time had seen your quiet, unflappable charm and how your talent and lovely nature were either ignored or taken for granted by those around you. He was determined to gain your attention, but without the office cricus freaks being able to use it against you, hence the mystery flower delivery this morning.

You found yourself opening up to Doyoung. He seemed sincerely interested in hearing what you had to say, hanging on your every word. It was a liberating and wonderfully powerful feeling. You weren't used to being the centre of anyone's attention. You told him of your pride at the independence since the loss of your lover, all those years ago. You were happy in your little home, content with your work, rarely coming to the attention of the office jokers.

It was over coffee that you admitted to Doyoung something you haven't admitted to yourself: your life was lonely and you missed the affection of another person. You missed the companionship of sharing your life with someone.

Immediately after the words had left your lips you regretted them. You have given away too much of yourself, been too forward. You lowered your eyes, not wanting to see the closed expression you knew would be on his face, so you didn't see the fleeting look of pain, quickly followed by understanding and hope.

However, you did feel his hand close over yours and squeeze lightly. You looked up into a face of gentle eyes and soft smile. "Would you like to take a walk with me," he said quietly. "I think it's time we leave - they want to close the restaurant anyway."

You looked around yourself noticing that you two were the only people other than staff left in the restaurant, and many of the lights were dimmed. You gasped in wonder - you had no idea you've been there so long. "Yes, a walk would be lovely."

Doyoung ushered you along the street and across a small, neat park to a promenade along the riverbank. It was enough lit to feel safe and you walked along arm in arm. You felt his arm snake around your waist hugging you closer to him, and you snuggled against him, your arm around his back. The moon was up, the stars were out and the night was peaceful and clear.

Your heart was singing and your eyes sparkled. You've been right to take this gamble. He was sincere, and it was wonderful. But the night was late, and it was rather cold.

You shivered. Doyoung felt it immediately and turned off the promenade proposing to head back toward the street where he had left the car. "I'd better take you home. It wouldn't be much of a date if you ended up ill."

At your door, Doyoung formally thanked you for a lovely evening and asked if he could see you again. You smiled and surprised yourself only a little by reaching up and kissing him lightly on the lips before saying: "Would you like to come in for a nightcap?"

Doyoung blinked, looking mildly bemused for a moment before studying your face. "Are you sure?"

Oh, most definitely, you were sure. You have thought of nothing else since you two have left the river. He looked right, he felt right, and he smelt right. You wanted him but was sure he'd never make a move. He was too much of a gentleman to ever force the issue.

You took his hand and led him into your home, kicking the door closed with your foot, shutting out the rest of the world with its mean people and ugly attitudes. You reached up to kiss him again. This time he lowered his head to yours, cradling your face in his hands as he returned the kiss. The lips met and parted, allowing the tongues to join and caress each other. His hands moved down from your face to caress your body, yours moving up from his hips. Both of you parted, searching each other's faces for confirmation of your desires.

"I think we're on the same page," you said. "Why don't you leave your coat on the couch? Do you want the nightcap now, or after the tour?"

"I'll put a hold on the nightcap," Doyoung answered, reading the desire in your eyes and knowing it was mirrored in his while stripping off the coat.

"Right."

You took his hand again. "This is the lounge. There," you pointed to the right, "is the kitchen and dining room. This way," pulling him down the hall, "is the second bedroom, the bathroom and," dragging him through a doorway, "here is the main bedroom."

"Very nice," he said, looking around, trying not to focus on the bed.

Suddenly shy, you both looked at anything but each other, awkward in a lack of intimate knowledge of each other. Doyoung tentatively reached out a hand to you, aiming to caress your breast, veering off at the last moment to your shoulder, but still lightly brushing your breast with his fingertips. Your gasped breath emboldened him and he reached his other hand, caressing your other breast lightly as you shivered under his touch and sighed.

Your own hands went to his chest, running down the front of his shirt and back up, then beginning to undo the buttons, pulling the shirt from his trousers and teasing his bare skin with your fingers.

Doyoung pulled his shirt off and then raised the sweater over your head and off the arms, moving in to kiss you as his hands went around your back to undo the clasps of a bra and returned to cup your breasts. The sensation on your breasts as he caressed and pinched the nipples sent a sharp message straight between your legs. You could feel yourself becoming moist and shuddered under his touch; breath becoming uneven.

Pushing him away you removed the skirt, letting it pool at your feet while looking into his eyes. Doyoung took the hint and began unbuckling his belt, then grinned foolishly and sat beside you to take off his socks, sneaking kisses of your neck and shoulders as he did so. You both stood again, slightly apart. He dropped his trousers and you could see his briefs pushed out of shape by his erection, the fabric straining.

Doyoung stepped up, taking you in his arms, kissing down your neck and across the collarbone, his hands lowering to your hips, sliding under the elastic and beginning to tug your panties down. Your own hands flew to the top of his briefs. Together, you pulled down the underwear, stepping out of them and standing naked before each other. Again Doyoung moved first, holding you and gently pushing backwards onto the bed, following after you onto it.

He ran one hand down the body of yours, teasing and tickling the beginning of your womanhood and beyond, teasing you with his fingers, tickling across your mound and easing around your damp centre. You moaned as he explored, your hips twisting and twitching. It had been so long since another man had touched you there. It felt amazing, wonderful, but achingly short of what you needed. You could feel his hardness against your thigh. Reaching down, you took his cock into your hand. It was hot, hard and pulsed under your touch. Doyoung groaned and his hips jerked convulsively. You kissed him hard and whispered fiercely, "Please, it's been too long. I need you, now."

"For me too, far too long," Doyoung gasped back, rolling you onto your back and positioning himself before gently splitting your lips and sliding steadily but firmly into you. Your moans were prominent in the air as he stretched and filled you right, not stopping his steady thrust until he was wholly inside you, your warm walls gripping him tightly. Your eyes met and locked as you lay still, immersed in the feeling of each other's body.

Being warm, wet and a safe haven, you were engulfing his cock. Doyoung was filling you with his hard heat, owning your body completely. You fit each other perfectly; you could see it in each other's eyes. You belonged together.

As great as this feeling was, you needed more. Doyoung slowly withdrew, till only the very tip split you. Both groaning as he pushed back in, again slowly feeling each other with delectable inch. Slowly in and out, in and out, revelling in the feeling of each other's bodies, gradually building up speed as your need increased.

You could feel the fire building, the tension increasing as sensation on sensation smashed into you with each thrust, your body twitching, your hips writhing. Still it built; higher, tighter, fiercer. Your entire being was wrapped around Doyoung's cock as it pumped in and out of you. You could hear him grunting with each thrust, feel his body trembling as he got closer to his climax. His speed increased and you breath got caught in your throat, your back arched, legs went stiff as you began to twitch when the white light exploded through you, spreading warmth and scattering your senses.

You felt, from far away but deep within you, Doyoung losing his rhythm before coming, pumping wildly into you, grunting and thrusting hard one last time as he shot deep inside you feeling spent but overly fulfilled.

Your hand was making lazy circles on Doyoung's chest as you lay, curled against his side with a head on his shoulder. You weren't sure how you've come to be in this position, but it felt so right and he smelled so good.

You were at peace while drifting off to sleep.

Waking up without feeling body by your side, you immediately felt the loss. Doyoung wasn't there. Your heart dropped, the pit near your stomach threatened to open and engulf it. Sensing the tears coming up, you accidentally feel something on your side with a hand.

He wasn't there. But there was a note.

"I am so sorry. I hate to leave you, knowing you will wake alone. There is something I must do."

You had just finished reading when the phone rang, disturbing your thoughts. Grudgingly, you moved to answer it. "Hello."

"Wish I was still beside you."

Your heart flipped again. The pit dissolved so you could breathe again before whispering, "Doyoung."

"Y/N. Tell me, what are you planning for breakfast?"

"Uhm. Coffee? Maybe some toast. Why?"

"Don't move. I'm on my way. With breakfast. And it's better than toast."

You lay back in bed, listening to the dial tone after he hung up. Surprised, you smile softly. You must remember to thank Myungsoo for introducing them.

If this is how you will feel loved and feel free to love again, you have no complaints.

Your new chapter is about to begin and hopefully, it will last for a very long time with a man named Kim Doyoung.

#one shot #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct fanfiction #doyoung #kim doyoung #doyoung x reader #doyoung scenarios #doyoung fanfic #doyoung smut #romance #nct romance #nct angst #nct 127 #nct u #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 fanfic

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todomochi-uwu · 3 years

Text

Of Unspoken Troubles & Loving You (3/3)

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader

Warnings: Angst

Author’s Notes: Done.

"Don't worry, Toshi. We'll be okay."

Previous parts: First Second Second&Half

Tension filled the entire gymnasium, you could feel it, the players could feel it, the rest of teams could feel it, everyone was gathering around the court, watching as each of the teams gave out their best to try and beat the other.

Anxiety ran through your veins, your shoulders were tense and the need to vomit was becoming more prominent each second it passed, you knew damn well you might have caused all this stupid rivalry, and while an outsider might see it as an over-exaggeration, the thought of someone getting hurt was throwing you over the edge. You could see the face of each and every single one of the boys, you could see the desperation, the nerves, the tiredness; and you couldn't help but pity them, there was nothing left to say, there was no way to convince them, it just simply would be stupid to do it.

The ball flew by leaving each court, points were given and groans let out, sweat covered their entire faces and their breathing so heavy it could be heard across the room; it was already the third set and none of the teams had asked for a time out, no one was giving up. It wasn´t until the mandatory rest at the half of the set that you could finally approach the boys.

"Hey boys, please take it easy. I don't want anyone getting hurt, okay? Please remember this is only a practice match, nothing to lose here." You try and calm them up, passing out water bottles, just as you were making sure everyone was okay, the rigidness of a chest crossed your way.

You looked up and couldn´t help but get flustered at the sight, Ushijima's breathing was heavy and sweat drops ran down his face, he sported the same stoic face as always but the look in his eyes was trying to tell you something, he longed for something and you knew what it was, wondering if you should give in and just comfort him, but once again the words 'Manager, not captain' filled your thoughts, and suddenly the urge washed away. "You are giving your best Ushijima san, but remember not to overwork it, Washijou wouldn´t like for you to pull a muscle." Patting his shoulder, you made your way to the rest of the team.

You were helping Tendou bandage his fingers, which were now red and bloated from all the blocking he had done, every time you would pass the bandages around them he would let out a small hiss, "You know, he didn't mean to be an asshole, he´s sorry for what he did." Tendou mumbled, making you frown "I see, so that´s why you are here apologizing for him." Tendou tried again, "Y/N…" "No, Tendou. I'm more than tired." You got up, finishing the last touches and going next to make sure Goshiki was okay.

The rest of the match was even worse, Kenma could barely breath and the look that covered Kuroo's face was one of pure frustration, the board wasn´t looking good for his team, 24-19, and while they had managed to win a set, he didn't think they could get away with the victory.

And while they tried their very best, in the end, it wasn't enough.

Everything was over, and while everyone seemed satisfied enough that the match was over, Kuroo couldn't help as if he had to prove himself to you. Feeling ashamed that even at this moments, Ushijima had managed to surpass him.

"Good job, guys!" You came running with towels and a box full of energy drinks, making sure everyone had one, even Nekoma. After reassuring all of them were okay, you spotted a very tired man sitting by the benches, head low, covered by a white towel and gasping for air still. Kuroo.

You approached him slowly, not wanting to startle him, "Hi." Your voice was small, not knowing how he would react.

He raised his head, the look in his eyes said everything, "Hey."

Few minutes passed by, no one knew what to say next.

"I knew that maybe we didn't stand a chance, but this is a new kind of humiliation." He giggled humourlessly.

"Kuroo…" You tried, before he continued, "I'm not mad at you, it would be stupid to be. I just can't believe that asshole has absolutely everything right in front of his fucking nose and yet he doesn't seem to care." He shook his head, desperation filling his veins, clouding his vision. "Fuck this." He got up and the process he kicked the bench next to him, making his way down the gym.

"Kuroo?" You followed him, worried for what he might do.

His pace didn't stop or faltered, his eyes screamed in fury and his body language indicated only one thing if Ushijima wasn't going to realize by himself how lucky he was, maybe he would have to give him a clue.

Meanwhile, you kept trying to stop him, reason with his logic and the thoughts that fogged his mind, but nothing worked, he was determined to do something.

"Ushijima!" The raw voice filled the hallway, making the miracle boy turn around. His features hardened at the sight of you behind Kuroo; he didn't say anything but didn't back down. "You are a fucking jerk, are you aware of that?"

Nothing you could say or do would change the current situation.

"You. You fucking idiot." His finger pointed directly, coming closer every second. "You have absolutely everything I have been killing myself for, you are monster in volleyball, we get it, but you also got her?" This time the attention was directed at you, making you uncomfortable, "And yet you dare ignore her and treat her like a piece of shit. Who the fuck do you think you are?" He couldn't hold back anymore, pushing his hands against Ushijima's chest, he kept going, not worrying about the consequences, "You don't deserve it, you don't deserve the love she's giving you." The final straw, "And for that, I'll make sure you don't get any more of it."

Snap.

Everything seemed so blurry, one moment to another Ushijima was on top of the middle blocker, punches flying everywhere, curses and threats were thrown and terror swallowed your heart.

Tendou and Reon trying to hold back Ushijima while Bokuto and Lev tried to do the same for Kuroo, it had finally blown up and you couldn't help but feel responsible.

Coaches surrounded the boys, dragging them apart and lecturing them in what just had happened; feeling completely useless you made your way outside, trying to clear your thoughts.

Was all of this necessary? Ushijima might be oblivious and blunt, but you loved him; he was also having a hard time and you knew it, yet decided to go on.

And what about Kuroo? Why did you have to get him involved in your mess? He was doing more than okay, yet you were selfish enough and dragged him.

If it was love, whatever you seemed to be in, why was it so difficult to feel happy? It surely shouldn't be like this, you should be able to communicate all your worries to Wakatoshi, it should not be this difficult, and to this, you worried. Was Ushijima the real problem here, or was there something more to it?

Making your way down to the nursery's office, know full well Ushijima and Kuroo would be there, not being quite ready to face them, not knowing what to say or how to act, you just knew you had to see them.

Sitting down on a bench next to the door was Kuroo, he was holding an ice pack to his right cheek and small bandages covered his lips along with some cream covering the small bruises in his nose. The sight of his face alone made your heart feel even heavier. "Hey, cry baby." He mumbled.

"Hey." You sat down, trying to find the right words. "You look like shit." God, why are you like this?

"Yeah? You should see what I did to him." He said lazily, "He doesn't punch as hard as I think he would, do you think he was holding back?" He smirked, before wincing out in pain.

"I am sorry."

He gave you frown, "Why?"

"I dragged you into all this mess, and now you are hurt. It was my mess to deal with and I involved you in it, for that I am sorry."

"You didn't do anything, I decided to be here and while I didn't expect it to turn out this way, I'm glad." He gave you a reassuring smile, cracking a little bit when the pain kicked in once again.

"You are a moron."

He giggled, "Yeah I might be, but I also know about who feels like an even bigger idiot." He sighed, "We had a little bit of a talk, and turns out he is aware of the problem; he owns it completely and is willing to try to make things better, but…"

He hesitated.

"I'm not sure about what you want."

You sighed, shaking your head "To be quite honest I don't know. I mean, I still love him, he's not a bad person and I'm sure he still loves me, but…"

"But…"

"But I'm not sure if it's the best thing to jump into it right away, maybe we should go back a few steps, you know?"

"I completely understand, and I know he will too. Just talk to him, he loves you enough to give you time and space, or to let you go if that's what you want."

Nodding, "I don't want him out of my life."

"And that won't happen but for now tell him how you feel, it'll be okay."

…

"Hey, Kuroo?"

"Yeah?"

"When we first met, you talked about going through the same situation, care enough to explain?"

"Fuck, I did talk about that huh? Well, let's just say I was taken for granted, treated like shit and I went through this spiral of lies and obsessive thoughts that emotionally destroyed me, that made me doubt myself, my friends and every single thing I believed in." He rubbed his hands, looking out the ground, "When I got out of it I felt so empty and dead on the inside I genuinely considered never dating again; it might sound like an overreaction, but I was so numb to the entire world I didn't think love was worth anything. And then, someone came in and made me realise that maybe, just maybe it wasn't my fault, it was my abuser's fault, that I wasn't at fault for giving my all to someone who just drained me, they helped me and now here we are." He looked into your eyes, "Sometimes I wonder if the trauma would have healed faster if they had appeared while I was still in that hell, instead of after. That´s why I felt the urge to help you, and while Ushijima is nowhere an asshole as my ex was, you were hurting and I hated seeing it."

"Kuroo…" Tears filled your eyes, threatening to fall.

"Oh common, please don't cry, I'm on the other side now and everything's okay."

"Do I know them?"

"Huh let's see, they are just as weird as you, but a little bit less annoying I guess." You groaned in annoyance, "I'm kidding, but yes you do know them."

"Aren't you going to tell me?" Before you could continue complaining the nursery's office door opened, and here he was, the giant, buffed, airheaded man you called your boyfriend.

Standing up you met his gaze, there was no coldness in it, no hate, no malice, just pure longing and regret, and your hurt couldn't help but clench. Taking his hand in between yours, you caressed it, making him shiver.

"Don't worry, Toshi. We'll be okay."

…

"So you want to break up?" He furrowed his eyebrows, his hands felt clammy and his breathier became a bit quicker.

"Not quite like that, I think we jump into a relationship way too quickly, we barely even knew each other and even if we have been in this for some months now, we are not working out as we should."

"I will try harder, I swear," He mumbled.

"And I know you will, I trust you to do it, but how about we make our priorities the things we love right now? Like you win those nationals and I focus on getting into university?"

"I didn't know having me impeded your education."

"It's not, but I want to know what's like to look out only for me, to know I'm not chasing anyone, just for a little while."

He nodded, didn't say a word for a few minutes, "I am sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel as if you were chasing me. I missed my chance and I understand it. Know that I still love you and will keep on doing it, and I respect your decision of letting things between us end." He vowed and turned around, not sure how to processed what just happened.

"Ushijima." "Yes?" Locking your arms around his waist, looking straight into his eyes and caressing the side of his face, "I am not letting you go, I can't. This is just for me to be able to heal, but I still love you Wakatoshi, please don't forget that."

His arms surrounded your waist, leaning his head against the crook of your neck and nodding, his body shaking slightly "Okay."

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dorimena · 3 years

Note

Hello hello! Your blog is beautifully constructed. I hope there will be more dom reader blogs like yours in the future. If you aren’t busy could I please have g/n reader brat taming Bakugou or Shinsou? I’ll leave it up to you to decide. Remember to drink water!

Hello! Thank you! (´ ω `♡) I chose Bakugou, but I might do something similar for Shinsou later on huhu~ And thanks for the reminder! I hope you’re hydrated as well! ╰(*´︶`*)╯

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; bakugou katsuki

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 1.5k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; gender neutral reader, impact play (not too hard though), brat taming, crying, mentioned overstimulation, implied edge play, paddle, dom!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; sex toy (cock ring), lowkey headcanon Bakugou being into impact play, some aftercare before round 2, mentioned safe word (cues like the traffic light colors), aged-up character, Bakugou is 18+

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; I hope you enjoy it notwhatiseem. I might’ve had to do some investigation, as I was unsure if my plan on how the story was going was a correct, or as correct, portrayal. Maybe in the near future Mr. Paddle will make a comeback-

𝕸𝖗. 𝕻𝖆𝖉𝖉𝖑𝖊

“Baby boy! What has gotten into you today?”

You scold Bakugou as he glares at you from the couch, arms crossed and body relaxed on the cushions as he tries not to show how his anger is making his body tremble.

Unlike you, because you’re quivering in anger, in utter disappointment with the stunt he decided to pull during the Bakusquad’s monthly game night.

It was a fun time, a casual time and place where everyone could leave behind their prohero responsibilities before somehow being dragged away to missions, patrols, paperwork, all the glorious hero work.

But Bakugou decided that this very night, in the very moment Kaminari ‘accidentally’ placed his hand on your thigh, that he’ll be a brat. A jealous brat, which is worse than his usual bratty behavior.

But he isn’t usually a brat? It’s confusing and a whiplash for you, not really expecting to punish him after months of him being so obedient, so nice, so docile with you and everything you wanted or needed.

“Answer me, Bakugou.”

Okay, that made him furrow his eyebrows in worry, wondering if he’s crossing a line, but that already happened the moment he began sassing back at you and insulting you. Not even playful banter, it was just outright rude and degrading.

He went against opening his mouth or talking in general, just huffing as he slouched a bit more into the couch, as if he wants the cushions to swallow him in or maybe he’s trying to keep riling up your mood.

“Sit up correctly.” You snapped, halting your pacing as you standing in front of him, hands on your hips as you take in his sitting position. He’s barely such a slouch; he’s taking this too far.

Or maybe you got too used to him being such a sweet baby boy that you forgot just how impatient you can sometimes get.

This is one of those times.

“You’re not gonna talk?”

He shakes his head. Well, at least he answered, but his posture remains the same.

Sighing, you leave the living room and head to the bedroom, rummaging through your closet to find- aha!

Bakugou, in the meantime, is trying not to let his nerves get to him, not wanting clammy palms and possibly causing more harm with his reactions. All he can hear is stuff being moved around in your shared bedroom and then hearing a small shout of victory.

But for what- wait, why the fuck did you take that out?!

“Alright, baby boy. I hope you remember Mr.Paddle. He will aid me in your punishment.”

No, no! Anything but the paddle! You’ve never used it, at all. Even if there were some close calls, you still never had it anywhere near his skin, or him. It was a gag gift you gave him out of the blue.

“No!” Bakugou yelled, getting on his feet as his arms fell on either side of him, eyes wide in shock and slight fear. How hard could you go with that? How bad will it hurt?

But your amused chuckle seems to make him even more confused. Aren’t you angry at him?

“So you speak when threatened, but not when spoken to nicely? I told you to sit correctly-”

“I will!”

“Baby boy.” Oh he’s done it. He interrupted you just as he was kind of redeeming himself.

Well, shit.

“I’m s-sorry…” He trailed off, slowly sitting down on the couch as he never loses eye contact with you, waiting to see if you’ll finally use the paddle or you’ll continue trying to talk things out.

But you made a good point: why does he only speak up when threatened with punishment instead of avoiding all of this anger?

“Baby boy. Today you’ve gotten bold with your actions and your words. But you’ve been terribly rude with Kaminari! Isn’t he your friend? What did he do wrong?”

You do know, but you wanted to hear it from him.

But Bakugou kept his silence, fidgeting on the seat as he battled his inner, mini Bakugous about the pros and cons of speaking up and answering.

The main pro is that he’ll be given attention.

The main con is that that attention will be given with the paddle.

Well, his pride be damned.

“He was touching you! I hate it when other people do!” He spoke out, voice raising in volume just a bit at the end, but he shyly whispered, “you of all people know how jealous I can get.”

“Oh~ so baby boy was jealous?”

He groaned, covering his face with his hands before taking them away in a flash, grimacing at how sweaty they are and how sweet it smells.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, goddamn it.”

“Language.”

He grumbled, pouting as he looked at you again, slowly averting his gaze to the paddle as it just stared back at him.

Why does he feel like even if he spoke, he’s going to get that touching him?

He was right after some time, his body moving forward with every hit you landed on his ass with the paddle, a cry of the number he’s on leaving his mouth as more drool lands on the bed, more tears wetting the sheets, more precum falling in stringy drips on the sheets.

He can’t even come to care about the rapidly dirty sheets, or even come to think about anything really. Not with how every smack he receives, the hornier he keeps getting. The tighter his hands grip the bed sheets, and if he were at least conscious with his actions, he would’ve heard fabric tearing up and smell a bit of burning.

Is he into this? Has he always been into this? Well, yes. But he didn’t think taking the paddle instead of your hand would be so much better.

God, please-

“H-harder! Please! H-hardeeeeer- ugh fuuuuuuuck.”

You snicker before rearing back into a serious expression.

“Excuse me? You’re not allowed to speak, baby. Keep counting.”

Bakugou groans before it ends in a sob, a weak ‘68’ coming out as you land the last spank on his bruising ass and a small ‘69’ squeaks out of his throat as he falls forward, face resting on a nearby pillow. And if you somehow catch his hips gyrate slowly against the bed and small, hoarse whines leave his body, you decide to ignore and let him come down from the high the way he usually does.

You’re quite surprised at how he hadn’t used his safe word, or any safe cues, within the spankings, and actually asked for you to go harder. But his bruises are enough to make you feel kind of bad, just a bit.

“You know,” you speak, throwing the paddle on the floor before rounding the bed, squatting to look at his tear stricken, blush decorated, sweat sticky face, “I knew you were a slut for impact play, but I didn’t think it’d be this much.”

Bakugou just mewls weakly, voice lost in his trance as he tried recollecting any thoughts of his, especially the coherent ones so he could speak. Even if they’re just curse words.

“Sh-shitty y-y/n…” He blinks a couple of times, trying to unblur his eyes with the tears that seem to stubbornly stay on his lash line.

“Th-think tha-at be ‘nough? Hah… y-yer cute.”

Blinking yourself, you stare as you shake your head. So he wants to act difficult today, huh?

“Oh baby, baby, baby. All you had to do was ask nicely instead of being mean to your friends. You know I would do anything to keep you happy, to please you.”

You reach to pet him, scratching his scalp as soothing as possible, watching as his eyes slowly come back to being sharp, the fuzz lingering leaving as his mouth twitches into a smile, a relaxed, serene smile as his once tense body slowly melts into the bed, the small shudders from the intensity of the situation for his body slowly disappearing as he lets out something close to a purr.

How cute, he thinks he’s off the hook.

“Since baby boy isn’t satisfied with what I gave him, guess I’ll just have to fuck the brattiness and attitude out of you, hm?”

You slowly lift your hand, standing up as you go back to the closet, leaving him with enough time to gather his thoughts back together and come to realize how you’ve tricked him, how you’re not even done yet, how he’s still gonna get punished.

But, he loves overstimulation? How is that punishing?

“Oh! Forgot to mention: you’ll be wearing this until I feel like taking it off, okay?”

And in his line of vision is his cock ring, the horrible toy that vibrates in teasing tempos and makes him pathetically cum, humiliating him. God he hates that fucking thing.

He growls lowly, as if he’d have a threat ready between his teeth, but then you flipped him over gently, the coolness of the sheets soothing his ass as you flick one of his nipples.

He whimpers, puffing his chest out more for you to keep playing with.

“What’s your color right now, Katsuki?”

“Green m-master.”

#notwhatiseem #✿; impurity #bnha smut #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki smut #mha smut #𝖇𝖆𝖐𝖚𝖌𝖔𝖚 #ლ; blasphemy

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bloody-bee-tea · 3 years

Note

" don't make this weird, but... i saw this in the store. figured you'd like it. "

For your favorite pairing <3

Hammock

Jiang Cheng wistfully stares out at the garden. Lan Xichen just arrived to the weekly barbeque the Nie’s hold and that means that Meng Yao is now there as well. And that means that Nie Mingjue is about to be showered in hugs and touches and kisses to the cheeks and love in general.

Jiang Cheng tries to not let it get to him that none of that is coming from him, but it’s getting increasingly harder.

He is happy for Nie Mingjue—of course he is, because what kind of asshole would he be if he wasn’t—but he’s falling a bit more in love with him every time he comes over and it’s just hard.

Sometimes he wonders what kind of relationship they have, if it’s open or not and if he would have a shot with Nie Mingjue despite them being together, but Jiang Cheng can never bring himself to ask.

He’s not sure he wants to know the answer and so he simply doesn’t ask the question. He can’t be disappointed that way.

So instead he watches them, though he tries to cut down on that. He doesn’t want to be a creep after all. It’s just that Nie Mingjue is gorgeous and he seems so happy when he’s with Lan Xichen and Meng Yao and Jiang Cheng simply has a hard time looking away from him.

“You’re being a creep again,” Nie Huaisang mutters as he slides up to Jiang Cheng, pressing into his side.

“I know,” he gives back with a sigh and welcomes the distraction Nie Huaisang poses. “I’ll stop.”

“Or you could simply ask him,” Nie Huaisang shoots back because of course he knows all about Jiang Cheng’s dilemma.

What he doesn’t know though is Nie Mingjue’s relationship status and it had actually taken over a week for Jiang Cheng to believe that.

Nie Huaisang knows everything, especially when it comes to his brother, so him not knowing what kind of relationship he has with Lan Xichen and Meng Yao seemed unconceivable to Jiang Cheng. But Nie Huaisang had whined and lamented over his lack of knowledge and by now Jiang Cheng believes him.

“Or I could shoot myself in the foot,” Jiang Cheng replies, because they have been over this.

Multiple times.

“Hopeless,” Nie Huaisang mutters and takes a sip of his drink.

“Hopelessly in love, maybe,” Jiang Cheng agrees and watches with satisfaction how Nie Huaisang chokes on his drink.

“That was rude,” Nie Huaisang splutters but Jiang Cheng only smiles at him.

“That was well deserved.”

Nie Huaisang hums, because he damn well knows Jiang Cheng is right, and they fall silent for a while.

Jiang Cheng watches the other people at the barbeque, but of course his eyes are always drawn back to Nie Mingjue. And therefore Lan Xichen and Meng Yao. Jiang Cheng has to watch how Lan Xichen presses his face into Nie Mingjue’s shoulder to stifle his laughter, has to watch how Meng Yao casually picks food off Nie Mingjue’s plate and adds some of his own, has to watch them standing close and leaning intimately into each other.

It’s a lot, if Jiang Cheng is honest and it’s almost enough for him to decide to never come here again on Saturdays. But that would also mean he doesn’t get to see Nie Mingjue regularly anymore and that thought is almost worse.

Jiang Cheng sighs and Nie Huaisang takes that moment to clink their glasses together.

“I wish I could tell you,” he says, not for the first time and Jiang Cheng manages a smile for him.

“It doesn’t matter,” he gives back, even though it does and going by Nie Huaisang’s face he doesn’t believe him one word.

“I—could drop some hints? Pester him until he tells me? Create some situations for you?” Nie Huaisang offers—not for the first time—and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“I appreciate it,” he says, because he does, “but no, thank you. We’ll just—I can live with a crush. And this is better than nothing.”

“If you say so,” Nie Huaisang grumbles.

Jiang Cheng knows that he would love to meddle with this, but Jiang Cheng made him promise to keep out of it and so far Nie Huaisang has been true to his word. He doesn’t like it, Jiang Cheng knows that damn well, but he sticks to it.

“Here we go,” Nie Huaisang suddenly says and before Jiang Cheng can even ask what he means he slinks away.

Only seconds later, Nie Mingjue appears at Jiang Cheng’s side.

“You don’t have anything to eat,” Nie Mingjue says and puts a plate into Jiang Cheng’s hands, that’s full with Jiang Cheng’s favourites.

“Thank you,” he stammers and goes a little bit weak in the knees when Nie Mingjue smiles at him.

“How are you doing? I feel like we didn’t have a chance to talk at all lately,” Nie Mingjue says and settles right in at Jiang Cheng’s side.

It’s a heady feeling, having Nie Mingjue this close and his full attention on him, but Jiang Cheng tries his best not to let it get to him.

It doesn’t mean anything. They are friends, and that’s it.

Sometimes, he even believes it.

~*~*~

A week later finds Jiang Cheng at the Nie’s doorstep yet again, except that this time he’s slightly early and even more nervous than normally. The reason for that is the hammock he bought on a whim and he’s still not sure if he should even give it to Nie Mingjue.

It doesn’t mean anything, it’s not even a gift that could be classified as romantic and yet Jiang Cheng worries. It could be enough to throw everything out of order and Jiang Cheng isn’t sure he wants to take that risk.

That decision is taken out of his hands, though, when someone clears his throat behind Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng wheels around and almost falls off the stairs, but a hand on his arm prevents the worst.

“Careful there,” Nie Mingjue chides him and waits until Jiang Cheng has regained his footage before he lets go of him.

The spot still burns warm though.

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng says. “Hi. Sorry I’m early.”

“That’s alright as long as you’re going to help me set everything up,” Nie Mingjue says with a smile and enters the house, clearly expecting Jiang Cheng to follow him.

There’s still a lot to do and they get right on with that, because time is an issue as Nie Mingjue so gently reminds him but soon enough everything is done. The time flew by with their easy conversation and Jiang Cheng wishes they could always be like that.

He also wishes he could reach out for Nie Mingjue whenever he wants, could pull him into a kiss, could step up to him for a hug, and while those urges are hard to fight he manages to not fuck up.

Once they are done Jiang Cheng is left to fiddle awkwardly with his gift again and it’s not long before Nie Mingjue notices.

“What do you have there?” he wants to know with a nod at the package in Jiang Cheng’s hands and Jiang Cheng’s heart stops before it goes into overdrive.

“I—okay, don’t make this weird, but—I saw this in the store. Figured you’d like it,” he blurts out and almost smacks the package into Nie Mingjue’s chest in his haste to get rid of it.

Too late he realizes that he probably made it weird by telling Nie Mingjue to not make it weird, but it’s done now and there’s no taking it back.

“What’s this?” Nie Mingjue wonders, causing Jiang Cheng to roll his eyes, but he gets to unpacking relatively quickly. “A hammock?”

Jiang Cheng shrugs awkwardly.

“I just figured—you spend a lot of time in the garden and I thought you should also be able to relax.. Take a nap or whatever. Or let the kids have their fun, what do I know,” he mutters and he is absolutely not prepared for Nie Mingjue’s blinding smile.

“Thank you, Wanyin, I actually wanted to buy one for a long time, but when I’m out I always forget.”

Nie Mingjue pulls him into his side, hugging him close and Jiang Cheng can’t help the shudder that runs through him at that. He wants to reach out, wants to cling to Nie Mingjue but he forces himself to step back.

“No problem.”

Jiang Cheng is awkward with the thanks and the fact that Nie Mingjue is staring at him intently is not helping at all, actually.

“Wanyin, I’ve been meaning to ask—“ Nie Mingjue starts suddenly and Jiang Cheng already knows that he will not like where this is going. “Are you flirting with me?”

Jiang Cheng’s stomach drops out, because he never wanted to do that, never wanted to let Nie Mingjue know about his stupid, unrequited crush, but it seems like he failed that spectacularly.

“I’m sorry,” Jiang Cheng immediately breathes out, and he doesn’t even trust himself to deny it. “I know you’re with—whatever it is you have,” he waves his hand in explanation. “It won’t happen again.”

“I’m with who?” Nie Mingjue asks, a frown now on his face and Jiang Cheng thinks it’s just a little bit mean that Nie Mingjue makes him say it.

“With Lan Xichen and Meng Yao. I know that and I won’t—I’m not a home-wrecker or anything so I’m not going to try something if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not,” Nie Mingjue says and Jiang Cheng nods.

“Thank you.”

“No, I mean I’m not with Xichen or A-Yao,” Nie Mingjue explains and now that makes absolutely no sense.

“What?”

“We’re friends. They are a thing, but I’m not with them. I doubt A-Yao could stand it, actually, he has a bit of a possessive streak. Or maybe that gets him going?” Nie Mingjue muses. “Well, doesn’t matter, I don’t actually want to know. But I’m not with them.”

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng breathes out, completely unsure what to do now that he has that question answered. “I see.”

“So, have you been flirting?” Nie Mingjue asks and there’s the hint of a teasing smile on his face.

Jiang Cheng guesses he deserves that for falling in love with his best friend’s big brother.

“It won’t happen again, regardless of your relationship status,” Jiang Cheng promises, feeling thoroughly humiliated by the whole situation but Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“What if I want it to happen again? What if I want to change my relationship status?”

“I—don’t follow,” Jiang Cheng admits, because what Nie Mingjue says is confusing as hell to him.

“Okay, let me put it that way: I have been flirting with you, not that you ever seem to pick up on it. Now the question is if you have been flirting with me as well.”

“You have—no way,” Jiang Cheng says and Nie Mingjue laughs.

“I have, Wanyin, I have. I’m in love with you.”

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng breathes out, his heart already understanding what his mind still has some trouble grasping. “Oh! Then yes, I have been flirting. Cause I’m in love with you, too!”

“See, now that wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” Nie Mingjue teasingly asks, but he takes the bite out of it when he lightly kisses the corner of Jiang Cheng’s mouth. “That okay?”

“Fuck no,” Jiang Cheng decides to go all out here. “You missed,” he tells Nie Mingjue as he taps his finger against his lips.

The look Nie Mingjue throws him at that makes him go weak in the knees but before he can worry about his stability Nie Mingjue has one hand in his hair and pulling him close with the other, absolutely devouring Jiang Cheng.

It’s a good thing they finished the preparations beforehand, because when Nie Huaisang arrives ten minutes later, they didn’t so much as part even once.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #the untamed #mingcheng #mdzs #mdzsbingo #modern au #getting together #pining #background xiyao #first kiss #fluff

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loki-stories · 3 years

Text

𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖 ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡/𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡

Pairing: Loki x GN Reader OneShot

Summery: You comfort Loki after what happened in New York

Warnings: Panic attack, Loki falling off the bifrost (suicide attempt), mentions of torture

~ A panic attack rendered him upon the hard ground, rocking back and forward and sheltering his face with his hands. His thoughts had become so scattered that normal functioning was impossible. He caught flashes of memories, of things he’d forced himself to forget.

Loki’s arm was straining to hold onto Gungnir, and his blood pounded in his ears, every beat marking how many moments he had been hanging over the abyss. If he let go, then that would likely be the end of him.

“I...I could have done it father!” He cried, looking up and silently begging his father to tell him that he could have done it too, to tell him he was good enough. He was too afraid to trust his own instincts for he feared that he would decide on death for himself, so he clung onto the hope that was his father, and for some scrap of approval. A nod, anything. For once in his life, surely his father would tell him he was enough...

“I could have done it,” he cried again, “For you, for all of us!”

“No, Loki.”

He looked up, shock freezing him in place, at the low and calmness of his father’s voice, despite the heavy disappointment that lay there. Odin was disappointed in him, again, and he even had the indecency to be calm about it, as usual.

So his father thought him that weak, after all.

He isn’t my father, he reminded himself.

“Loki!” He heard Thor call out to him, but he’d made up his mind.

His grip slackened, his fingers easing off Gungnir, and he fell...descending into an unknown abyss. Away from light, away from anything good, anything he’d ever known.

He fell further and further away, deeper into the dark parts of space.

It certainly hadn’t been misnamed. It was so dark here, so so dark, and he feels as if the darkness is bleeding into his lungs, filling him with it.

His eyes sting, tears streaming, and so he closes them.

He’s reverted to his Jotun skin.

He feels colder. He wonders whether that’s because he’s in the middle of space, or because he’s a frost giant. He decides he doesn’t care.

He wonders as he falls,

how far he will go

before it all ends.

He sees you first, as the panic attack subsides. You approached him slowly in the cover of night, the cold white moon and New York city’s distant twinkling lights the only luminosity around you both. You wore a long coat and hood against the chilly air. Your shining eyes surveying him cautiously. Cautious, but not afraid. He thought. How interesting.

You had only your sword strapped to her back, but that was a necessity, and you were otherwise not armed.

He wondered how he looked to you, standing out in the cold, a little way from the city he’d destroyed today, while trying to take it over, trying to prove he could. He stood in the shadows, and he knew he must look dreadful; that beast had beat him into the ground, and his forehead was still bleeding. And the muzzle wasn’t flattering either, (or comfortable.) He knew he had dark bags under his sunken eyes from dehydration and lack of sleep, and his paled skin still had the many marks of his torture. If that wasn’t enough, the cold had brought a light blue tint to his skin, vaguely showing his heritage.

“Loki,” you said softly, and his eyes snapped back to you. You certainly didn’t sound angry. Or disgusted. That was also interesting.

Stay away from me. He would have snarled, if he were able, but both would know he didn’t mean it.

“Why did you do this?” You whispered. He didn’t reply. He couldn’t, he was wearing a muzzle. Was you that stupid? He thought. Maybe it had been a theoretical question.

You had been working with S.H.I.E.L.D. for many years, and you’d met Loki a handful of times when he came to earth representing his father and Thor. The two of you were good friends, and he wrote you letters sometimes.

Over the last few years you’d started working with Jane Foster and Eric Selvig and Darcy Lewis, and had met Thor when he was banished to earth.

And then Loki had sent down the Destroyer in his anguish, and you hadn’t even had a chance to talk to him. Then he showed up here a year later with his army, and you’d been recruited by the Avengers to help stop him.

Reaching out slowly, you lightly touched his arm. He flinched, and your eyes met. “Are you hurt?” You whispered. He was, in more ways then you thought. He just narrowed his eyes menacingly in response. It didn’t seem to shun you, even when he let his Jotun form take over completely, red eyes bleeding into blue skin. You definitely didn’t seem frightened, he saw. He didn’t think he could deal with your disgust. Your eyes widened, but you weren’t shocked. He looked different, yes, but having heard about his Jotun heritage, you had expected this. And he was actually very beautiful with blue skin.

His cheeks reddened in colour at the intensity of your stare. You seemed to be looking him over quite thoroughly, searching this skin he wore with her eyes.

“I did not realise how beautiful you were like this.” You whispered softly,

and it caught him off guard. He hasn’t expected that. His head turned to her sharply, eyes narrowed. He hoped you meant those words. Because that meant that you weren’t repulsed by him, right?

He didn’t know why he wanted you to approve of him, you were just a mortal after all. But maybe if you thought he was enough he wouldn’t need the approval of Odin or Thor or anyone else. Maybe then he’d be enough. What was he thinking? It was those shining eyes of yours, he thought. They’re distracting.

Am I? He asked quietly in return, only his thoughts giving away his inner feelings. There was no anger in his message like he’d hoped. Jeez, he hated being vulnerable.

“You have no idea.” You replied, reading his mind like you always did. An interesting power, you had. You touched his face gently, your fingertips brushing his skin.

He shivered, involuntarily leaning into her touch. Slowly, you lifted her other hand to his cheek, and he felt the click of a key as the muzzle was taken off his face, the sharp mouth guard coming away from his chapped lips. He frowned, watching you cautiously.

You smiled at him gently, leaning in, inches from his face, and softly brushed your lips against his. He gasped, and his eyes fluttered back to yours. You smirked in response, maintaining his eye contact and kissing his jaw with the same soft passion. It felt so foreign to him, but oh, it was glorious. Despite his desire for her touch, he pulled away.

“What are you doing?” He hissed.

“Kissing you.”

“Why would you want to kiss me anyway?” He tried to shout, hoping you’d jump. Instead, you looked back up at him calmly, but your eyebrows were creased with concern.

“I’m a frost giant, remember? I’m a monster. I tried to kill everyone. I—”

Oh, how he wished he could have remained impassive like always. It was so simple, he’d done it all his life. It was impossible for people to read him, everyone had also thought so.

Even the torture hadn’t gotten him to break down, not properly.

And yet, here you were, a mortal, standing before him with no weapons or any sign you indicated to harm him, and he broke down crying. It was the worst humiliation, he thought, to be so vulnerable before you and with such little prompting. But in seconds you’d wrapped her arms around him and held him to you gently, whispering to him that it was alright, and that you was so, so sorry. That made him feel a little better, the aftershock of the panic attack fading away with your touches.

“Why?” He whispered.

“Because you are worth it. You are enough. I’m sorry I never told you so. I’m sorry I didn’t realise how much you needed to hear it.”

He just clings to you, soaking up your whispers that it’s going to be okay.

Maybe it will.

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adorerdraco · 4 years

Text

Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: PART 5 ! of Draco accidentally falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and figuring out how to survive his new life while finding out a way to keep you in it.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, torture, blood, death eater stuff - the usual !

Words: 7.8K

A/N: FINDING WAYS TO PROLONG THIS SERIES !!!! 😼 AND SORRY IF THERE ARE ANY MISTAKES ITS VERY LATE AND I NEVER CATCH THEM 😔 but omg my little week long hiatus I took was against my will but i’m back and healthy again and can finally think out sentences again lmao !!! also i DO own gif

Draco stared at the vast, dark marble ceiling as he lied awake. His black silk sheets were strewn across his king bed in a lofty heap from when he had woken up. There was a sheen layer of sweat across his skin, but his room held no warmth and the draft that was coming in from his open windows was nothing less than freezing.

There wasn’t a moment where he had enough peace to sleep, but when he ultimately did; he always regretted ever drifting off when he felt the hot, ravenous feeling that ran through his body when he would jolt awake from a nightmare with his heart thundering against him and the inability to differentiate reality from a subconscious image. He would lie back down, breathing unevenly, and fixate on a random crack in the ceiling and let his now very tortured conscience remind him, “it all happened, you can't escape it!”

And that little malicious voice in his head was right. The horrible images in his mind weren’t made up or conjured by his brain - they were very real and he had lived through them.

He remembered the agonizing decision he had to make when he left the love of his life, jinxed and in hysterics in an abandoned classroom. He remembered his Headmaster, who he had cornered and disarmed who still offered him genuine help and guidance despite the wand pointed in his face. He remembered his once-favorite Professor, kill his Headmaster who he thought for maybe a second would be able to help him. He remembered bounding down the steps of the astronomy tower, wanting to topple over and vomit while he followed closely behind a billowing cape and several sniggering and smug Death Eaters into the halls of the unsuspecting school. He remembered his aunt wreaking havoc on the Great Hall with pure joy as he could only watch in horror while she shattered the windows in her celebration. He remembered walking through a maze of trees in a dazed stupor towards Hagrid’s hut, Bellatrix giggling maniacally beside him as she skipped past him. He remembered seeing Harry run towards them, hurling any hexes and curses he could think of towards Snape while he scurried off. He remembered meeting his mother at the momentarily failing barrier, her hand wrapping tightly around his arm before she apparated them home. He remembered the cold wooden floors underneath him and the way the Manor’s structure seemed to be crashing down onto him as he tried to catch his breath and collect his thoughts.

When he would finish going over every mistake he had made that night, and every choice he could have made instead, he would turn over in his bed and stare out the large window in his room where he could see the cloudy night sky and the nature swinging around in the wind like it was in a constant state of what seemed like an approaching tornado. He would wonder about you, and what you were doing and what you thought of him. He wondered if you meant what you said - if you would truly never forgive him for leaving you there. He wondered if you thought it was him who killed Dumbledore and how you probably saw him as a killer now. He was in ceaseless disarray of wonder, a painful wonder that he couldn’t escape.

He didn’t dare try to owl you, especially with Bellatrix around the house as a very vigilant guard dog that noticed anything and everything. There were barely any opportunities in which he could leave the Manor, not by foot, by broom, or apparate. He was a prisoner in his own home, just as much as he was in his mind. The increasing amount of Death Eaters that came and went every day made him feel more unsettled than ever, all of them giving him intimidating and sneering looks as if he was a joke while they forcefully turned the Manor into their place of 'work'.

The day Lucius was released from Azkaban, Draco felt a slight hope that things would improve, that his father could somehow find a way to fix things for them as he always had and the young boy could finally step down from the responsibility he felt for his family. But what he saw in the foyer of his home wasn’t Lucius Malfoy; influential, formidable and feared by many - he saw a shell of a man who had lost all sense of who he was and had paid greatly for his failures. He recalled how his father had embraced him in a weak and shuddering hug, clinging onto him as a spew of desperate words incessantly flew from his mouth without making much sense.

He knew immediately then that his father couldn’t swoop in and fix all his problems, and his mother couldn’t be left alone in all this. He was stuck, whether he liked it or not, and he had to follow through on anything and everything the Dark Lord expected from him or wanted out of his family.

He hated the way his home was defiled with death and wickedness. He hated the way there were lifeless bodies littered around the living room sometimes. He hated the echoing cries and pleas of those who were locked up in the dungeon below. He hated seeing Voldermort use his home as his headquarters, pacing the room in a self-given majesty and humiliating his father every chance he could get. The only reason the Malfoys weren’t killed off yet was, in Draco’s opinion, to be used as an example of what happens when you fail the Dark Lord, to be used as malicious entertainment, and to see just how far someone could be tortured from the inside. Draco did mend the cabinet, but he didn’t kill Dumbledore or die trying as his master had desired. He was always visibly apprehensive of everything he had to do and every order he was given. He wasn’t willingly cruel or vile and hated the idea of actually hurting anyone. His father had failed every mission he was given, and his mother wasn’t a Death Eater, to begin with. They were just there, as pawns and as sadistic pleasure.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was subsequently, a rare day that the Manor was empty. No one was walking through the halls or running their mucky shoes on the expensive upholstery of the furniture as they relaxed into it. Even his father was out, along with Bellatrix, which left only him and his mother at home.

Narcissa Malfoy was just as arrogant as her husband, valued the pro-pure-blood ideals she grew up with, and always appeared to be very cold and haughty. Yet there was one thing that she valued above most; her family. She was entirely devoted to her son and husband and loved them profoundly. It was for Draco she worried for the most and would do anything for. It was for Draco she would risk everything for and go against the Dark Lord for.

So on the night she brought her son back home, and he was breaking down in her arms with cries about a girl she had never heard of - it piqued her curiosity more than she wanted to admit. She had asked Draco who you were a handful of times since that night, but he always refused to answer. She even went as far as asking Snape, pulling him aside one night behind a dark pillar in her home as everyone was leaving and whispered secretly to him.

“Severus, I know I’ve asked too much of you already but I need to know this,” she rushed to say in a very hushed and imperceptible tone but she knew he had heard her. He raised an eyebrow, looking at her quizzically.

“What might that be?”

“On the night Draco came home, he was calling out for someone,” she began, “do you know if he was involved with anyone by the name of Y/N?”

She could have sworn she saw a twinge of muscles move in his cheek, but he only shook his head shortly from side to side.

“I apologize, Narcissa, but I know no student by that name,” he sighed. “Draco spent most of his time mending the vanishing cabinet, I doubt he had time to be venturing out in his love life.”

She wanted to believe him. But she couldn’t brush off the intuition that was beating against her gut, nearly screaming at her that she was being lied to and there was more to the story. It’s not like she wanted the information to hurt you or to judge, she simply wanted to know who had broken through to her son during the year he was the most closed off. Who had impacted him so greatly, that now that it was seemingly over left him in shambles and withdrawn almost completely. If anything, she wanted to help. And if there was a possibility where she could, she would help Draco take it if it meant it would make his life easier. There was nothing more she wanted for him, free of pain and filled with hope, and if a certain individual would help her get him there - she would be willing to see it through.

With the opportunity of everyone gone, Narcissa trailed up to Draco’s room, letting her knuckles fall softly against the wooden double doors three times.

“Draco, dear, would you like to join me on a walk?”

She heard a shuffling from behind the door and a sharp sniffle, taking in a deep breath to prepare herself to see his poorly hidden tears that she knew she would be met with.

As she predicted, the doors opened and the blond stepped out of his room, lowering his red-rimmed eyes to the ground so he wouldn’t have to meet her worried gaze. He looked well-groomed as always, but she took notice that his skin seemed gray and dull. His eye bags were deep and nearly black from all his crying and lack of sleep. When she linked her arm through his, she felt the slight weight he had unwillingly lost in the past month that he’s been home. Her mind was spinning with concern, promising herself there that she was ready to do whatever she could for him, anything she could.

She led them out of their cold and darkened home, stepping out into the gardens that sat behind the Manor in a large vastness of gorgeous flower arrangements of whites, greens, and reds. There was a large marble fountain placed in the middle of the garden, spewing water smoothly from a small bowl that spilled into a larger one beneath it. It was boxed in with stone and surrounded with red amaryllis flowers, giving anyone enough space to sit around it without being splattered by droplets of water.

It was a gloomy day, but a warm afternoon sun had peaked through the clouds and cast a glowy light around the house that she hadn’t seen in ages. It made her feel hopeful as she walked her and Draco through the garden, thinking of ways on how to approach him. She knew he had shot her down and changed the subject every time she brought up your name, even if it was in privacy, and she pleaded to the stars that this would ultimately be the chance she would get to find out.

When they reached the fountain, she sat them down and watched as Draco slouched, silent and staring distantly at his shoes.

“Dear, I know you hate for me to bring this up,” she started slowly, shaking her head as she spoke, “but I want to know who she is. I want to be able to help you, and maybe even her. I know you’re in love, I see it in your eyes and I see it now that you’re apart. I know everything else certainly applies to how you’re feeling, but there’s a look for heartbreak, and you have it.”

Draco looked up at her, finally peering into her worried eyes as he contemplated what she said and what she offered. The last time he told someone about you, he was reprimanded and denied any sort of help, only suggestions for abandonment were given. He wanted to tell his mother all about you, but he wished it was under happier circumstances, however.

He wished it would be him coming home during the summer, no Voldermort or Death Eaters in his life or his family’s, and arriving with you by his side after sending an owl to his parents about the new love in his life he wanted them to meet. He would boast about you and your smarts, care, ambitions, and beauty. He would make sure his parents understood just how important you were to him and just how amazing you truly were. He imagined their inevitable surrender and allowing him to invite you on one of their luxurious trips to somewhere beautiful and expensive. He pictured a yacht ride in Italy, your skin glowing and your smile bright as you gazed at him in delight under a warm summer sun. Or a grandeur trip to France, walking around the Parisian streets with you as he spoiled you with gifts and delicious gourmet food while ending the night under the Eiffel Tower. He wanted to see you leave on shopping trips with his mother, the two of you coming back with heavy bags and new memories while his mother would walk by him and secretly whisper, “I love her!” to him. He wanted to flaunt you, and boast and gloat all about you - but the circumstances now were dreadful, and to talk about how he had failed you made him want to cry all over again.

His mother waited patiently for his reply, clasping her hands together in her lap as he stayed quiet while he decided. He was so used to sulking and torturing himself on his own in the past month, that seeing a genuine look of concern and desire to help pushed him into making his final resolve.

“I met her around the beginning of last year,” he breathed out finally, “her name is Y/N Y/L/N, we had a Potions class together but I met her in one of the corridors where we accidentally bumped into each other. I sprained a finger trying to catch myself and she healed it without a second thought. She wants to be a Healer at St. Mungo’s after Hogwarts, and she’s very skilled with her wand. She’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met and the kindest. She always listened to me, and helped me, and encouraged me. She always reassured me when I needed it, and if it weren’t for her I don’t think I would have mended the cabinet or even had the energy to wake up every day. She stayed with me even when I told her the truth about everything. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel the way she does, I can’t explain it, she makes me feel-”

“Alive?” His mother softly finished for him. “She makes you feel alive.”

“Yes,” he nods fervently, “I love her and I failed her. I don’t think there’s anything I can do now and neither can you.”

“I beg to differ,” she briskly interjects. “It’s never too late for anything, Draco. There’s always an opportunity to make things right, as long as you try. She at least deserves an explanation and an apology, and it will be up to her to decide what she wants to do. She sounds wonderful, and I’m glad you met someone who brings out your best.”

Draco agreed wordlessly, his tears sitting at the brink of his eyelids begging to be released as he mulled over everything that was said. He knew where you lived, having learned the fact somewhere in your relationship when you were talking about your childhood and where you were from. He knew the place you called home and the address that came with it that you constantly reminded him of in hopeful jokes that he would visit you over the summer.

“There’s no one here, no one would know you’re gone,” Narcissa encourages swiftly as if she knew what he was thinking about. “It’ll be a few hours before anyone returns. Go to her.”

“But if I become involved with her again, he’ll find out, won’t he?” He insinuates in distress. “The reason I left her was to keep her safe from him, I don’t want her anywhere near this.”

“He won’t find out,” she promised, “I’ll make sure of it. Go.”

There was a hopeful and elating sensation that ran through his veins as he stood up, turning back to look at his mother as she nodded at him optimistically. He suddenly lunged towards her, giving her a tight hug and muttering thank you’s to her like a broken record before running out of the garden towards the front gate of the Manor.

As soon as he reached his exit, he used his newfound Death Eater ability to half-apparate himself into a thick black cloud of smoke that allowed him to fly over to where you were - not giving a care in the world if he were seen by muggles as he recklessly took every shortcut he knew towards your hometown.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

There was a slight breeze in the cloudy air that brought you comfort. It was cold, but refreshing - a sharp contrast against the burning feeling that never seemed to leave your body. You were back home now, in your small little town in England that held little to no wizards.

You spent a lot of your time wandering around the local stores and cafes nearby, mingling with strangers as you told them fake life stories for fun. There was also the small forest behind your house you regularly enjoyed, and all the small hidden creatures that you encountered along the way. You always brought along your family cat, the chunky orange tabby always finding his way for you outside of the forest when you got too far in, or if he sensed there was nearby danger and would warn you. Sometimes you would talk to him, complain to him about everything that was bothering you and he would respond to you now and then with broken meows and chirps that made you feel like he understood, even though he didn’t. It made you feel less alone.

Of course, you had your family that worried over your changed behaviors. They weren’t oblivious. They noticed the puffy eyes, the sniffles, and the quiet sobs that escaped under the space of your bedroom door when they would pass by in the middle of the night to get a glass of water from the kitchen. They noticed your sudden quietness, and your lack of interest in everything and hardly found you in the house. You were always out and about, trying to find anything and anyone to distract yourself from what was going on in your mind.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to your family, even though they had incessantly offered their support, you just knew they wouldn’t understand. They would want to know about Draco, his family, and their beliefs. They would eventually figure out of his involvement with the Dark Lord and the looming second Wizarding war. They wouldn’t approve, and you didn’t want to hear the scolding you would get for ever giving him the time of day. You were bitter enough as it was, and the last thing you wanted to hear was how bad Draco was and how you were better off without him.

But even if you were supposed to be better off without him, a life where he wasn’t in it didn’t feel good at all. It felt empty and lost. You were used to his presence always being around you and how he was always a few minutes away from you. He was always available to you for anything and willingly; for company, affection, comfort, reassurance, love, everything. You hated the fact that you let yourself get attached, especially when you knew deep down the direction the relationship was going in.

There were days when you would wake up okay. Days where your mind blocked out your feelings entirely, including Draco and all the memories that came with him. There were days when you felt like you had finally forced yourself to move on, but always finding it to wear off when you’d clamber into bed at night and your brain started illustrating everything you didn’t want to remember. The silver band bracelet he had gifted you was in constant movement from your wrist and jewelry box, hidden on the days you wanted to forget him or sitting pretty on your skin on the days you missed him the most. As much as it hurt to think about him and remember him, you couldn’t stop the way your whole being drifted towards him.

You were currently stepping over a big fallen tree trunk covered in thick green moss, your cat following closely by your leg as he pranced and jumped over all his obstacles. You walked mindlessly around the greenery, not taking notice in the shape of the leaves of the fern you were placing your hand upon to move out of your way. It wasn’t until you felt the sharpened ends of the leaves dig deep into your skin that made you recoil your hand back in pain, a slight hiss leaving your mouth as a small gash began to form with blood flowing quickly upwards out of the new cut. Your hand was held in the air as you frantically looked around for anything that would stop the bleeding that was now dripping sleekly down your arm.

“Stupid ministry and underage magic,” you mutter under your breath. Your wand was in your pocket, begging to be used, but the idea of being sent a letter from the ministry that was now under the Voldermort's control quickly dispersed any desire you had to use it. “Come on, kitty. Let’s go back home, please.”

'Home' was a word the cat did understand. He bumped your leg with his head before meowing loudly at you as he began trotting off to your right side towards the exit of the forest. He moved stealthily, dodging in and out of everything that was in his path as you attempted to follow in his cleared steps. Every time you would trip or rest briefly, he would stop ahead of you and wait until you would walk towards him again before he started back on the journey.

When you finally saw your house in the distance, you sighed in relief at the thought of your first aid kit waiting patiently for you in the bathroom cupboard. And belatedly, your feet hit the stone path that led home, skipping slightly with your hand in the air before nearly toppling over your cat as he stopped abruptly in your path. You moved out of the way, last minute, and very clumsily before eyeing him suspiciously.

He was looking up at the sky, his ears pulled back and the fur on his back straightening up as his eyes frantically searched around the clouds above him. He wasn’t hissing like he normally did when he felt something dangerous coming, he looked more confused and alert than anything. You searched the sky with him for a minute before concluding he was being too wary so you bent down and pick him up with your uninjured hand, nearly scooping him into your arms until he carefully swiped at your arm.

“You’re being dramatic, there’s nothing there,” you exclaim at him irritably. You were stumped, on one hand, literally, you were still bleeding though it had significantly slowed down and was now just coagulated blood, and on the other hand, you couldn’t leave the cat outside because of the number of dead critters he left in his past outdoor ventures around the yard and his sometimes week-long disappearances that left everyone in the house worried.

In just a few seconds of your thinking, he had sprung forward and rushed towards the large open field that was a few feet away from your house. Although it was summer, it had been rainy and allowed the grassy field to flourish in tall and wild greenery. This did not help as you watched the fluff of orange disappear into the small jungle that lied ahead and you began to sprint after him, spotting his bushy tail in your vision every time he jumped over something. If you could use magic, this little ordeal would have gone much more different - but you couldn’t.

You chased him until the very near end of the field, spotting him sitting calmly as he looked back at you as if he was expecting you. Rolling your eyes, you reached towards him again to pick him up, if he wanted to go back to the house scratching and biting then so be it. You trained your gaze on him, trying your best to grab him as carefully and as slyly as you could. But as soon as your hand landed on the silky fur of his back, you heard a soft whooshing sound a few feet away in front of you and a very audible shuffle of dead grass crunching underneath someone's shoes as they moved slowly.

You didn’t look up, all of a sudden feeling scared at who could have magically appeared in front of you, and instead, you waited for your cat to hiss and attack, but he sat himself down in a loaf as if he were in the most comfortable place in existence. This is when you looked up, and the sight before you was like an invisible force that knocked you onto your bottom as you jumped back in surprise.

“What are you doing here?”

What was supposed to sound like a concerned question, came out a little ruder than you had intended, almost seething at the boy that was fearfully staring down at you.

“I’m sorry,” Draco ran his hands over his pallid face in distress, “I shouldn’t have come.”

There was an awkwardness that hung in the air. The two of you were finally where you had wanted to be, together, but now that you were face-to-face it couldn’t have been more perplexing. He didn’t know how to begin, and you weren’t sure if you should even listen to him. It was like a weird staring competition, he was taking in everything about you as you were doing the same to him. It was obvious you were both a wreck, and the damage was apparent on him the most as he was dealing with his Death Eater status now more than ever.

“Your hand is bleeding,” he stated suddenly. You didn’t have time to answer before he had cautiously walked over to you and sat down beside you in a flattened patch of grass. “Let me see it.”

Like magnets, your hand instantly fell into his cold grasp without you thinking about it. You eyed him carefully and quietly, observing him as he turned your injured hand over in his and inspected your gash like you had done many times in the past for him. You didn’t stop him when he took his wand out of his pocket and waved it over your wound, murmuring a familiar spell that closed the cut with ease, a small pink scar left in its place.

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that,” you say lightly. “Thank you.”

“I learned from the best,” he smiles faintly.

Neither of you moved from your sitting spots, and neither of you said anything. He would meet your eyes now and then and search them with such a pained expression that it took everything in you not to just throw yourself into his arms and cry in relief that he was there.

“I know it was Snape who killed Dumbledore and not you,” you break the silence apprehensively. “Harry told me.”

“Potter told you?” He grimaced, but he let out a breath of relief. “I would’ve thought the git would have loved to throw me under the bus. I didn’t even know he was there, then I see him chasing us down-”

“Draco, why are you here?” You asked him again, gingerly this time and cutting him off from his rambling in hopes that he would just cut to the chase on his unannounced appearance. He sighed, looking down at his now muddy, once expensive dress shoes.

“I needed to see you,” he answers honestly. “And I wanted to apologize for how I left things.”

You peered up at him with a raised eyebrow, bringing your knees up to your chest so you could rest your head against them as you faced him. “Let’s hear it.”

“I’m serious,” he frowned. “I’m sorry I used my wand against you. I’m sorry I shut you out. I’m sorry I left without giving you much of an explanation. I’m sorry I abandoned you and disappeared off the face of the Earth. I’m sorry I broke my promise that I would never leave you again.”

“Draco-”

“No, wait, I need you to understand that I thought leaving you was the only thing that would keep you safe. I would have never forgiven myself if I let you die for trying to help me, even if you say you’re ready to accept whatever fate is in store for you, I’m not. But I don’t want to run anymore, I don’t want to be away from you, I can’t do it and I always think I can let you go for your safety, but I can’t.”

There was a brief period of stillness as you contemplated his apology. Your head moved to fall in between your knees as your hands began to fiddle with the long strands of grass beneath you. You were stripping it and pulling at it, hoping that there would be a hidden message underneath the earth that would give you an answer on what to say or what to do, but it wasn’t possible. The only thing you found was the loose pitiful tears slipping down your face that seeped into spots of dry soil. Draco stayed wordless beside you, the only sound coming from him was uneven breaths as he stressed over your reaction.

You were caught in between wanting to give in, wanting to forgive him, and hug him and kiss him to make up for all the tortuous time lost, but there was also a part of you that was now afraid to trust. You wanted to, so badly, but everything felt so unpredictable. You weren’t sure whether you could handle him leaving again if he had to. And if he were to die at the end of all of this? There was no way you’d be able to recover from a loss like that. He was on an unforeseeable path that held no clear outcome.

“I’m scared, Dray,” you sniffle, closing your eyes tightly as you began to answer him. “We’re not kids anymore fooling around at school. Everything is getting more real by the day. How am I supposed to be comfortable with the idea that you might-”

You stopped yourself from finishing, a soft sob escaping your throat at the near mention of his possible death. You felt him scoot closer to you, stopping about a few inches away from your shuddering body as he placed a reassuring hand on your lower back.

“You say you can’t accept the decision I made when I said I’m ready for whatever fate lies ahead of me,” you mumble miserably. “Well, I can’t accept yours either.”

“I won’t make any more promises I can’t keep,” he starts warily, “but I can promise you that as long as I’m around, I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever. And as far as my future goes, I promise that I’ll do everything and anything I can to survive this.”

You had unhooked your arms from around your legs, bringing them underneath you as you sat yourself up to face him better. He was staring at you intently, hopeful gray eyes boring into yours with every emotion under the sun flashing through them. He didn’t show it, but he felt like at any moment he was going to faint. He had never seen such uncertainty on your face and it killed him, but he tried to remain stoic as he spoke and kept a brave face at every concern you had. He couldn’t guarantee you anything that lied ahead, but there was also nothing he wouldn’t do for you now.

“Okay,” you agree, finally giving him the consolation he had been woefully praying for. “I believe you, we can get through this together.”

There wasn’t another second spared before you speedily moved out of your sitting position to pounce him with a tight and suffocating hug. It was desperate and smothering, his arms wrapped tightly around your lower back as he pressed you deeply into his body as if you were going to disappear any second.

You didn’t care that you could barely breathe against his chest or that your knee was digging into the mud below you. It was the most relieving feeling in the world, finally being in his arms again with new hopes and possibilities that always found a way to present themselves. It was one of the many reasons that you knew he was the one for you. Everything with him felt easy, even if the world was crashing down around you. He could melt away all your pain and worries with one look, touch, or words. He felt like home and heaven all in one.

It came to you in the middle of your longing hug, that there was always going to be something looming over the two of you in the current state that the wizarding world was in. There’s no point in wasting time when everything could change overnight, just as it had that unforsaken day at Hogwarts before you were dragged home the next day. There was no reason for trying to stay away from him when it was everything you wanted and you knew then that you needed to take advantage of whatever time you had left with him.

“I'm sorry for saying I would never forgive you that night,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. “And for being stubborn.”

“You had all the right to be angry with me,” he laments.

“But it didn’t make it okay,” you nuzzle yourself deeper in his embrace, frowning to yourself as you recalled the night.

He looked down at you, a pang of guilt hitting him when he saw the corners of your lips pulled down in sadness. He leaned down and carefully placed a kiss on your temple, lingering for a bit before moving away and muttering, “nothing about that night was okay.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

There wasn’t an inkling of an idea how long the two of you were sat outside, holding on tightly to each other as you filled each other in on any news that happened in the last month since you’ve seen each other. The only indication that let the two of you know that time had surely passed was that the sun had begun setting behind the valley in the distance. The moon now had a faint appearance in the purplish evening sky that was for the first time in a while, free of the heavy cloud covers.

You listened attentively as he told you about the Manor and how it was being used as a Death Eater meeting place. He told you about his father being released from Azkaban as a treat for the Malfoy’s since he had fixed the cabinet and disarmed Dumbledore for Snape to finish, unknowing to him that he would. He explained to you how ghostly he felt when he was venturing out of the school that night. He even scarcely described the horror that had gone on in the dead of night, when victims had been brought back to the house for ‘interrogations’ and the way their screams would keep him wide awake for days.

You nearly felt sick to your stomach the longer he went on, empathizing with him delicately when he would sometimes stop talking to take a deep painful shaky breath. The guilt that was eating away at him wasn’t hidden or pushed down, he expressed it very obviously and you couldn’t picture how he managed to hold a straight face in the sea of terrors he had encountered.

“You’re nothing like them,” you whispered tenderly to him when you saw the distant broken look that clouded his eyes. “You are good, Draco. Not once have I ever changed my mind about that.”

He was slipping, far and fast into the depths of his despair. His new life away from school was eating away at him now that he was forced to experience it upfront. He wasn’t cut out for it, nor did he want anything to do with it. It physically pained you that there was nothing you could do except offer him what you’ve always been able to provide; a listening ear and to remind him that he’s not the evil monster he deludes himself to be.

“I don’t want to talk about me anymore,” he mumbled gloomily, taking your hand into his as he turned to look at you. “I want to hear about you and your summer.”

“It wasn’t pleasant or anything, honestly,” you shrug, “I spent most of it in the village nearby and the forest behind my house with my cat, who by the way knew you were coming somehow.”

You both suddenly turned to look for the orange tabby who had seemingly disappeared without either of you noticing sometime throughout the evening.

“Where is the little critter so I can thank him for leading you to me,” he chuckled softly as you rolled your eyes.

“He’s probably back at home now but I’ll pass the message,” you bite back a smirk.

Draco felt the familiar fluttering of pixies in his stomach as he looked at you, a sense of exhilaration and delight shocking his body from its usual anguished state. He was so far gone in you and he never wanted to leave the feelings you left him with and with such little effort. He couldn’t count how many times he had the same thought in his head when he was around you, much like your own, he knew with you was where he was at his calmest and his happiest. It was like a chunk of agony being released from him that made him feel like he could breathe again without feeling like he was going to drown. Even if it was just for a few hours, he was always grateful for moments he shared with you and the comfort you brought him.

“I love you,” he said dazed, eyes locking onto yours intimately. “I hope you know that.”

"I love you,” you repeated, a coy smile making its way onto your features.

“You know,” his thumb began mindlessly running over your knuckles as he spoke, “if it wasn’t for my mother knocking some sense into me earlier, I wouldn’t have had the great idea to show up here.”

He looked over at you when he felt you tense up completely, slightly worried at first before a small amusement quickly replaced his fear when he noticed you were gaping at him with wide wondrous eyes.

“You told her about me?”

“All about you,” he nods, “I accidentally let your name slip a while back and she’s been asking me about you ever since. I didn’t want to say anything in case someone heard, but everyone was gone today and she got it out of me.”

“What did she say about me?” You asked him timidly as if it was the most important thing in the world for you.

He chortled quietly at your nervousness, “she said she thinks you’re wonderful and she’s glad we met. She pushed me to come and make things right with you and she offered to look out for us.”

There was an intense delight that beat against your chest at his answer. The only other person in his life who’s opinion he valued the most above all had made one about you, and it was one that was better than anything you could have ever hoped for. Narcissa Malfoy had vouched for you before she’s even properly met you and it left you feeling astounded and beyond appreciative.

“When you get home, please send her my regards,” you plead heartily, your hands clutching onto the lapels of his suit jacket as he laughed lightly.

“I will, I will,” he smiles, “I have to be home soon, so she’ll hear about it within the next half hour.”

Draco pulled you up with him as he stood up, both of you finally stretching out your limbs with groans and sighs of relief from the tension of sitting for so long.

As you peered up at him, you let your hands slide up into the platinum blond strands that looked brighter than ever under the now bright moonlight. He placed a hand over one of your wrists, a smile growing on his face as he noticed the silver band sitting warmly against your skin. He leaned forward to press his forehead against yours, letting himself stay there for a minute as he tried to revel in the last few moments of peace he was going to try and prolong for the rest of his night.

“I’ll be back soon,” he cupped your cheek with one hand, his thumb grazed delicately over your cheekbone as you leaned into his touch. “Right back with you.”

“I’ll be waiting, Malfoy,” you grin.

For the first time that night, he ducked down and pressed his lips soft against yours. The gentleness quickly dissipated into longing and fervor as he kissed you like it was the last thing he was ever going to do, seeking the closeness and union he missed so desperately. Neither of you made any move to pull apart as you melted into each other, basking completely in the feeling of being so close to one another like this again.

If it wasn’t for you worrying about his timely arrival back home before everyone, you would have allowed him to keep you like that forever. But much to your dismay, you tapped him lightly against his chest that let him know it was really time for him to leave if he wanted to keep his secret trip, secret.

You stood there sadly, watching him as he unwillingly backed away from you and whispered one more goodbye to you before he disappeared into the sky in a ghost of black smoke, the aroma of his cologne still lingering in the air and a swollen feeling against your lips that left you feeling fuzzy.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The Malfoy Manor was staring eerily back at Draco when he finally arrived back in front of the main gate of the home. It was deathly quiet and dark, only a small light could be seen from the living room as he approached further into the property.

He swiftly ran up the steps, hand falling carefully onto the brass doorknob of the front entrance, stopping in his tracks completely when he heard a mixture of hushed angry voices.

“I told you, Bella,” he heard his mother exclaim fiercely. “He only went out to clear his head.”

“Clear his head of what?” his aunt sneered. “He’s falling weak, Cissy. He should be running around in joy that the Dark Lord has him in his inner circle.”

“My son is not weak, don’t you think this can all be a little overwhelming for someone who hasn’t even finished his schooling?” His mother defended him and he could picture the exact sneer on her face as she spoke.

“I want to know where he went,” Bellatrix says hotly, “he’s been gone too long.”

Draco ran through a list of excuses in his head, swallowing back the lump in his throat when he decided on one and put on a straight face as he turned the doorknob, cautiously stepping into the dimly lit living room where both his parents and aunt were waiting for him.

“Ah, there he is,” his father announced as he was the first one to see the boy clambering inside.

“I’m sorry I went off for so long,” Draco spoke up before anyone could ask. “I remember someone mentioning they had spotted Potter around a village nearby so I tried to go look for him.”

“Did you?” Bellatrix chastised. “And nothing?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged with a feigned annoyance.

“And you were alone?” She added with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, all by myself.”

Narcissa gave her sister a pointed look as she walked up to Draco, hand gripping tightly onto his arm before leading him away from the surprise interrogation and towards the foot of the stairs where she stopped him hastily.

“How did it go?” She asked almost inaudibly.

“Y/N sends her regards,” he whispered, “thank you.”

He gave his mother a warm hug good night before he hurriedly bounded up the stairs, looking down towards the living room once more where Bellatrix was eyeing him carefully. He decided on giving her a curt nod before vanishing into his bedroom and letting himself fall against the shut double doors, a large exhale of relief slipping past his lips as he was now safe to freely recall the night with a dazed smile he didn’t want to let go of.

PART 6

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APOLOGIES IF I FORGOT ANYONEEE 🥺 BUT I REALLY HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER EVEN THO IT WASNT TOOO EVENTFUL ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I GOT ACTION FOR THE NEXT PIECES THO JUST WAITTTT

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years

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Lila Rossi: I’d Say She’s a Good Villain, but Then I’d Be Lying (300 Follower Special)

Deception and cunning are easily two of the most important traits an antagonist could have. It shows that even if they don't have the strength to overcome obstacles, their wit is more than enough. This kind of trait is why characters like Lex Luthor, David Xanatos, and Princess Azula are so beloved, simply because of how intelligent they can be as villains and pose a real threat to the heroes.

It's clear that the Miraculous Ladybug writers want Lila to be seen as this, but the writing seriously fails to back that claim up.

Easily one of the most controversial characters in Miraculous Ladybug is Lila, mainly for the writing surrounding her. But there was a time where she was actually more of an ambiguous character, mainly for the lack of screentime she had until Season 3. But unfortunately, the more appearances she's had have painted a very poor portrait of an antagonist.

Lila's Tragic and Sympathetic Motivation for Hating Ladybug

Lila's first appearance was at the tail end of Season 1, “Volpina”. She was a new transfer student from Italy, and quickly made friends with a lot of her classmates for the lies she told, including being friends with Ladybug (which Alya blindly believed without doing any research like any excellent journalist). But because of how close she was getting to Adrien, Marinette, in a rare act of selfishness, transforms into Ladybug just to chew out Lila for lying about knowing her, humiliating her in front of Adrien. And this is the only motivation we get for what Lila does afterwards.

I'm not saying that it's wrong for Lila to get upset at Ladybug for doing this, and I like the moment of weakness Marinette has, but this is literally the only explanation we get for Lila deciding to side with Hawkmoth, a literal terrorist. As much as I hated the way the arc turned out, I could still understand Chloe siding with Hawkmoth, as it was clear that Hawkmoth was manipulating her and taking advantage of her ego. Lila? Ladybug's mean to her one time, and that inspires her to conspire with a complete stranger who brainwashes people to attack the city, which endangers innocent people and causes God knows how much in collateral damage if not for Miraculous Ladybug fixing everything.

I just don't get how a single negative interaction with someone is enough to conspire with a literal supervillain. Even in Season 3, when Marinette and Lila truly became enemies, it was because she risked exposing all the lies she told, which could damage her reputation. Sure, it's petty, but it makes sense for Lila to want to keep up the illusion. If she was simply an antagonist to Marinette in her civilian life like Chloe was before “Miracle Queen” , I'd be fine with that, but the writers clearly want her to be seen as on the same level of evil as Hawkmoth. I'll get into why that doesn't work later on.

Why Lila is an Excellent Liar

In my Master Fu analysis, I had pointed out that despite all the flaws he had, the narrative insisted on portraying him as an incredibly wise mentor. The same problem applies for Lila as well. We're supposed to see Lila as an expert manipulator and liar, but her lies are insultingly obvious. She always claims to be friends with celebrities and does all these awesome things, and in an age where we can have almost any question answered thanks to the internet, nobody ever stops to question her.

It's even more frustrating when you hear Lila talk about saving Jagged Stone's cat, when Jagged Stone is established to be very fond of Marinette (evidentially more than his own daughter), and nobody ever points that out. I think if Lila's lies were more stories about her travels around the world than outright lies about real people, it could have worked. It'd still be hard to believe, but it's something.

But this is a problem with writing shows aimed at children. As much as we hate writers who need to spell out things to kids, sometimes, they just don't understand some of the media they consume. Seriously, I never got this joke in SpongeBob as a kid, and I can't believe Nickelodeon actually approved this.

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So the dilemma when writing a show with children in mind is finding that sweet spot between assuming your audience can figure it out, but not being too vague in your details. It's even harder when you need to find a way to convey the fact that someone is lying without being too obvious. Unfortunately, the show clearly fails to do that

Okay, this is going to sound like an incredibly weird thing to cite, and I only know about it because I used to know someone who was a huge fan of the franchise, but the movie Monster High: Friday Night Frights does a better job of subtly explaining to the audience that a character is lying. Please, just hear me out.

The movie follows the main characters competing in their high school's roller derby for the season after everyone on the usual team gets injured, and the championship match is against another school whose team tends to cheat to win matches. How they manage to do this without getting caught is anyone's guess. While the main characters are practicing, their coach, Clawd, notices a spy for the enemy team taking video of them to study their moves. In response, he calls over one of the athletes, Operetta, to chew her out for her showboating attitude. In reality, he's alerting her to the spy. Only using facial expressions, he clues her, and by extension, the audience, in on the fact that they know what the opposing team is trying to do.

This soon leads to Operetta pretending to tell the enemy team about their secret plan for the championship match, which was really an attempt to outsmart them to gain the advantage in the final stretch. The brilliance of this is how the audience is informed of this with no dialogue, and there's no scene afterwards spelling it out for those who don't get it. It manages to convey deception without being too obvious that Clawd and Operetta are being deceitful.

I think if there were more subtle hints to show the audience Lila was lying, she would be seen in a better light. As it is, Lila's lies are just pathetic, and it's ridiculous that everyone believes her. Which leads me to...

Lila, the Master Manipulator

I once read a Star Trek: Voyager fanfic that poked fun at the series by claiming that the reason a lot of the dumber episodes like “Threshold” and “Twisted” happened was because one of the crew members was an alien who unintentionally produced mood altering pheromones, with Captain Janeway actually realizing they were all high because of said pheromones, while two of the unaffected crew members were wondering what the hell they were doing before they found out the cause. Why do I bring this up? Sometimes, it feels like Lila is an unintentional parallel to the alien in that story.

Like so many characters, it's clear the show desperately wants the audience to view Lila in a certain way, but her actions do very little to actually back up that claim. When she's not using lies to tell stories about so many famous people she knows like her uncle who works for Nintendo, Lila is using strategies to manipulate everyone that are so obviously deceptive, the Thermians could pick up on them. Everyone and their mother knows how ridiculous a lot of what Lila does in episodes like “Chameleon” and “Ladybug” are, and I've talked about them before, so I'll try to be quick.

First off, as someone who had access to accommodations through high school and has had assistance in college so far, there is no way in hell that Ms. Bustier should take Lila's tinnitus at face value in “Chameleon”. If a student has a disability that could interfere with the education process, physical or developmental, not only does the school have to evaluate their performance, and determine if they're eligible for an Individualized Education Program, or IEP, but her teachers would have to be notified in the first place. As her primary educator, Ms. Bustier would be part of the team to oversee Lila's IEP and determine what accommodations she needs to help her learn better with her tinnitus and arthritis. But because the writers don't know what Google is, they just ignore it, assume that Lila can just say she has a disability, and have everyone believe it. Even when Eric Cartman pretended to be disabled to compete in the Special Olympics, he put in more effort to look the part, even if he looked like a caricature.

Then there's the fact that that in “Chameleon”, everyone just believes Lila when she says Marinette stole her grandmother's necklace when not only is said necklace from the Agreste line of jewelry, but Alya, who is Rena Rouge, can't pick up on the fact that it's a fake. All she does to justify these lies is come up with a sob story about how nobody believes her, yet nobody ever tries to defend Marinette except Alya one time, and it was after she got expelled.

Or what about in “Oni-Chan”, where Lila thinks having Kagami kill Ladybug while claiming she'll back away from Adrien is a good idea? Let's say Oni-Chan does kill Ladybug or at least take away her Miraculous, what then? We know Lila wouldn't go through with this promise, and as soon as Kagami sees her harassing Adrien, she'll be ripe for akumatization again. Overall, not a great plan.

And yet somehow, this last example is what made her worthy enough to become one of Hawkmoth's most trusted agents. I'm just going to say it: Lila is not a good fit for the power of illusion. Whenever she's Volpina or Chameleon, she always goes out of her way to make a big show instead of being subtle with her deceptions. “Chameleon” is the worst offender, as even though Lila gets the power to shapeshift into someone else, instead of being discreet and cornering people into kissing them and gaining their appearance, she just runs around to get Ladybug's attention instead of being subtle. Even Felix had the bright idea to pretend to be Adrien to catch Ladybug off guard. How do you lose to something that happened in “Felix”?

Despite all of these screw-ups, we're still supposed to see her as this master of deception worthy of allying with Hawkmoth in both his supervillain and civilian form, when really, she's a terrible liar on the schoolyard and on the battlefield.

Why Lila is an Important Character

In the grand scheme of things, Lila just isn't as important of a character that the show loves to parade her around as. She's nothing more than a plot device used to raise the stakes in an episode, given how much reality seems to bend over just to accommodate for her lies. Even when the show alludes to her being part of bigger things, like her deal with Adrien, or her rivalry with Marinette, they don't even go anywhere.

She just feels pointless when you remember Astruc's brilliant idea to force Chloe into being the final Akuma for the season while Lila isn't even mentioned once. She only really makes appearances whenever the writers feel like it, which is why it’s hard to take her seriously. Why should I take this character seriously as a threat if the writers refuse to take her seriously as a threat? Why build Lila up as a big threat and not give her a major role in the finale? Why even include her in the show in the first place when you could show Chloe being more manipulative to fill in the plots Lila plays a big part in?

As of the time I am writing this analysis, four episodes of Season 4 have aired, three of them have been about lies or deception, and Lila hasn't been mentioned at all. It honestly seems like she won't appear unless the writers need a easy way to drive up the conflict, so they can justify it by saying that Lila's “superpower” of lying is more powerful than the common sense of everyone else.

I'm sorry this post was shorter than the last one, but compared to Master Fu, there's not that much to say about Lila that I haven't already said. Even the show barely gives her any attention, so it's hard for me to really find a lot to talk about.

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