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#of getting away from here i’ll pay it without a single moment of hesitation
irisintheafterglow · 5 months
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Quarter (opla!zoro x you)
summary: there's not much stability in his line of work, but at least he has you.
wc: 0.7k
cw/tags: descriptions of blood and injury, explicit language, mutual pining and unspoken feely feels
note: can be read as a standalone or with parley and no prey, no pay that exists in the same universe! hope you like it, something short and sweet for my favorite himbo man :)
likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3
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“We need to stop meeting like this.”
“What, sneaking through the window or invading my house at ungodly hours?” 
“Both,” he grunts, “though, I do regret not bringing those flowers you like.” He plants his feet unsteadily on your rug and you guide him to the sitting area of your room, helping him lie back on the loveseat. “What were they called? Bastards?”
“Asters,” you correct with a small chuckle, calmly retrieving the med kit from a nearby cabinet and grabbing a wet towel from the bathroom. His grimace softens as you sit in front of him, gently pulling back the blood-stiffened fabric on his torso. He flinches when the towel starts to wipe away the caked on blood and debris and you apologize absentmindedly. “Who’d you piss off this time?” 
“Marines,” he says through gritted teeth while you soak the towel with alcohol and dab it across his wounds. You give him a pointed look and he weakly shows his palms in surrender. 
“I thought we had an agreement not to get involved with Marines.” 
“Some asshole got mad that I was taking his targets and put a hefty bounty over my head,” he says unconvincingly. “Ran into a few obstacles on the way here.”
“Were you followed?” He scoffs and immediately winces from the movement, cursing under his breath. 
“Of course not. There’s no way in hell I’d ever let anyone find you here,” he promises and it makes your heart flutter. You were slowly rubbing away at the chalked line between you and Zoro, one that separated you from being more than friends. Though you didn’t know much about having close friends, you knew they didn’t look at you the way he looked at you now. It was too fond, too tender, too devoted. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it. 
“Mmm, my knight in shining armor,” you tease and he glares at you half-heartedly. “Or, maybe ‘outlaw in tattered street rags.’ How does that one sound?”
“I’ll be anything you want me to be.” Your face suddenly feels like it’s been set on fire and you’re grateful that his eyes close so he can’t see what he’s doing to you. “How long do you think it’ll be ‘til I’m hunting again?”
“The unselfish part of me says a day,” you murmur, wrapping the gauze around his body that you knew like your own. His chest is completely uncovered now and you want to laugh at the irony of the shirtless, god-bodied swordsman lounging in your bedroom.
“What’s the selfish part say?”
“However long you’d let me keep you,” you murmur and he peels open a single eye to look at you, really look at you. “I miss you, you know, when you’re gone. It’s embarrassing.” He’s quiet, a thoughtful look crossing his face. It wasn’t often you left him speechless; he couldn’t tell if the airy feeling in his head was from the nausea or from you. 
“I miss you too when I’m gone,” he answers just as quietly after a long moment of silence. With both his eyes open, his attention stays trained on your face as you reach out and brush a strand of green hair from his forehead. Your fingers on his skin feel electric every time, like he was being struck by white-hot lightning. “You shouldn’t have to stay up waiting for me.”
“But I will,” you reply without hesitation and pain blinks over his features. “Why the face?”
“I can’t do this to you,” he confesses and your heart plummets. Of all the words he could have said, those were the ones you didn’t want to hear. 
“Do what?”
“This,” he insists, gesturing vaguely between you two and acknowledging the unresolved tension that pulled you closer to him like a magnet. “You deserve more stability than a come-and-go bounty hunter.”
“What makes you think I would want anyone else?” The earnestness in your tone stumps him into silence again and you can’t help laughing a little bit. “You know, for being the most feared man in the seas, you aren’t that self-aware.”
“I think part of my mind shuts off when I’m with you,” he says in that raspy voice that finally makes you crack, closing the distance between you two and sliding next down to him on the couch. His arms receive you as naturally as blinking and you can feel your own inhales and exhales relax as you both sink into each other’s safety. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he breathes. 
“I think I can make a pretty good guess,” you yawn and settle further into his body. “You’ll stay for a few days, then?”
“I’ll stay for as long as you need me to.”
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aheathen-conceivably · 4 months
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It was the happiest that Violette had seen her parents in months, but she was miserable. All evening her father had talked about his new job, about the horses that roamed the pasture, the possibility of pay, and the family he had met. The Hines. Violette didn’t know who they were, but to her ears it sounded like they were going to take her father away from them, so she’d be left day and night without him, with only her mother and Uncle Gio and an aunt she no longer saw. 
Even worse, The Hines wanted them all to go to dinner at their ranch. Antoine explained excitedly that she would get to meet William, and he would tell her all about school and her new classes. School. That was even worse than The Hines. How long would she have to be there? She had never left home, not since England. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay there all day and dance, dance until her father came home and she could dance with him.
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So the next morning she connived a plan. You are never to go into Aunt Jo’s cabin, Violette. She’s tired. She’ll find us when she’s ready. We have to give her space, she asked us too.
You are never to go downstairs, Violette. Why? Why not? Why did they get to tell her what to do? She watched her mother in the fields, watched her toiling away with Giorgio. Why wasn’t her father there with her? Why wasn’t her Uncle Gio in the cabin with her Aunt Jo?
She was tired of their stilted explanations, tired of waiting for her father to come home and her Aunt Jo to come out her own. So satisfied that her mother and Uncle Gio were distracted with the burgeoning crops, she turned away from the window and went outside.
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Josephine hadn’t even heard the footsteps in the cabin. She was so used to detecting Giorgio’s heavy feet or Zelda’s light, hesitant ones that the sound of a child’s steps didn’t even register until they were already in the room and the door had been shut angrily.
Only the moment Violette saw her aunt her angry resolution faltered and she stood there, staring at a woman she felt like she hardly recognized. Josephine immediately noticed her expression and tried to smooth down her hair, straighten her dress, anything she could that might make her look more presentable. But it didn’t work, and she could see the bewilderment in the child’s eyes. It pierced through what was left of her armor so that it took everything in her not to crumble. 
“I’m…I’m sorry, Aunt Jo. I’ll go back to my room.”
Josephine’s throat closed up and her limbs stayed heavy. All she had to do was stay quiet and Violette would leave, leave her alone to sink back into blissful darkness. There was nothing in the world she wanted more, to forget the look on Violette’s face and what she must look like through her eyes. With horror she saw it quite vividly, a broken woman, so caught up in her own nightmares that she hadn’t even realized an innocent child needed her. So instead she extended her hand out to her.
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Violette immediately ran to her, crawling onto the bed and beside Josephine. She laid there quietly for a moment until her aunt began to run her hand over her hair. “Poppa told me I’ve got to go to school, Aunt Jo.”
Josephine tried to muster the energy to answer appropriately, but still found her voice low and hoarse as she spoke, “Did he, now? And do you not want to go?”
For a moment Violette stayed silent, and Jo could tell she was moving her hands nervously, “I don’t know. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to leave you and Poppa. Will you be okay here all by yourself when I’m gone?”
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Josephine pulled Violette close to her for a moment, hoping that it would hide the pain that crossed her face. A single solitary tear fell from her eye into Violette’s hair, the exact shade and curl of her own. She tried to find in herself to answer, to tell the child who was like her own that she would be, even if she knew it was a lie. Instead Violette looked up at her and spoke,
“Poppa got a job. He’s leaving the farm too. I suppose we’ve all got to sooner or later. He wants us to go down to where he works, his new boss wants to cook for us, says it’ll do us good. But I’ll only go if you come with me. I…I don’t wanna go alone. I don’t wanna go without you. Please”
The smallness in her voice almost broke Josephine’s heart, broke it enough that she regretted keeping Violette out at all, that she had prioritized her own pride and image when someone else clearly needed her. She mustered all the energy she had to pull Lottie close to her and answer without crying, “Of course I’ll go with you, my love.”
Then she realized that despite the tightening ball of fear in her chest, she was smiling for the first time in months.
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Ectoberhaunt 2023. Day 17. Blood and Flesh.
CW: TW! Recurrent pregnancy loss. TW!Abortion. TW!Bleeding
Maddie: Jack, we need to talk. I know this is gonna sound crazy but I think Phantom, the ghost boy, is actually our son. And I’m sure Danny and Jazz know about it too.
What if we bring down on the Fentons the knowledge that they have ghost children without revealing Phantom’s identity?
Text+Chat+Memes=Prompt:
Of course Maddie wanted to have children. But…Not in college. She felt it was too soon. The lack of stable earnings and time were not conditions for growing a new person. She had nothing to give this potential child. Maddie did not hesitate long before deciding to have an abortion.
And for years, neither Jack nor Maddie have thought about this unplanned pregnancy.
Ectoplasm is toxic, obviously. But since ectology was only recently recognized by the scientific community, no one has ever fully analysed the effects of ectoplasm on the body.
When Maddie and Jack had the misfortune to become one of those couples experiencing recurrent pregnancy loss, they immediately suspected that the ectoplasm in their lab contributed to their reproductive difficulty. Put simply, death didn’t go with life.
They may not always have followed the lab’s safety rules perfectly, but is that why one of their first works will be exposing a teratogenic effect of ectoplasm? What if they’ve lost their only chance to be biological parents?
What a cruel price to pay for the work of life. Jack and Maddie so dreamed of their little happiness. Do they have to forget about it?
No, the Fentons don’t give up that easily!
They may have to spend a few years doing only theoretical work, but they’ll try again.
~~~~~
Ectoplasm is toxic. Tests, hopes…and a few miscarriages too.
Jazz was a miracle. Fenton family literally didn’t get out of hospitals to look after her health.
Danny was an even bigger miracle, because they didn’t have any hope of having a second child. Maddie and Jack didn’t even plan this pregnancy. Danny was born premature, with signs of hypoxia... but alive. His potential twin was not so lucky. Single intrauterine fetal death (sIUFD).
Right. Death still followed them. Of course, parents didn’t tell Jazz and Danny that they might have had another brother. It was their grief. Children had no reason to know about it.
~~~~~
"You filthy ghost!" Maddie stopped to rest after a chase for elder Phantom.
"Exhausted?" Dan was flying at a safe distance from her. "Maybe it’s time to retire, Maddie? A little exercise never stopped you before." The ghost was clearly making fun of her.
"Not going to happen, I’ll do it until I die if Amity Park need it. And my son will be here to stop you instead of me after me or Jack."
The smile on Ghost’s face faded immediately. "I hope he die first." The ghost whispered in a hoarse voice."It's best for everyone."
"What did you say?" Maddie rose up in anger, pointing her weapon at it.
"Has any thought crossed your mind about what happens to your children if anything happens to you? Go out every day and yell like idiots, attracting all the ghosts around." An ectoblast is blowing right up against her temple and crashing into the wall. The ghost frowned and turned away. "Did you ever think that Danny wouldn’t want to live without you? Did you think that he would be hurt if he had to lose you? No! Is it always about your stupid desires and ambitions, Mom."
For a moment Maddie thought he it was looking at her like it had seen a ghost, which was obviously just ridiculous. Maddie wanted to laugh about it, but somehow she couldn’t. Why would the ghost trying to fake human emotion care to hide the tears that gather in the corners of its eyes?
Maddie tried to get it out of her head. Anyway, it’s not that important. Phantoms have always been atypical. She’ll come home, take a warm shower, and tell Danny how much she loves him.
~~~~~
Maddie: My son is a strong boy and Dan: He’s weak! He’s a freak! He can’t handle it, Mom!
Maddie had long pondered this theory since the day Jack admitted that Phantom had misspoke during the fight and called him his father but she had never experienced it before. Or maybe she wasn’t paying attention.
Maddie: Hey, Phantom, just a question, how old are you? Dan: Why are you changing the subject? Twenty-four, twenty-five… Hell, I don’t remember. Stopped counting after 17, nobody cares anyway. And her first months dating Jack were 24 years ago. Right. The eyebrows, the shape of eyes and the height is all from Jack. The waist and the side eye from her. Theoretically. Still need more proof.
~~~~~~
Dan: Is this all your frail human form can do?
Maddie walked past the Casper High playground when she saw a ghost flying around. It was one of the new ones. The Phantom’s full-grown specimen. More dangerous. And totally unpredictable. Maddie squeezed the gun harder. Her theories are just theories and she can’t have such a dangerous spirit near the school, near her children.
Danny: Shut up and give me my bottle of water, asshole.
This voice. Maddie stopped in shock. What’s her boy doing so close to a ghost? He’s always so terrified of them.
Dan: No pull-ups, no water. You need muscles. Without them you’re gonna look like a worm if you’re gonna grow up to be taller than Jack as I am.
Danny: Just so you know, you’re a terrible big brother and I hate you.
Dan: Well, that just means I’m doing a good job.
Danny: When Mom asks who destroyed the furniture in Vlad’s house I’m pointing at you. A little run around town will be good for you. And as they say, Older siblings are like your parents' personal science fair. They're a bunch of experiments.
Dan: ...Just so you know, it sounded completely insane. Terrible. Good job, but don’t go near Dani with those jokes. Jazz will kill us both for setting a bad example. Danny: Bad example? Since when has a good sense of humor become a bad example? Dan: Shut up. Drink water and go to the shower. Jazz is gonna kick my ass if you die of overheating.
Danny: Huh, afraid of one know-it-all? When dad chased you with a bazooka, you didn’t seem scared.
Dan: Сome on, dad has a lot of strengths, yeah, but the ability to aim isn't one of them. And not
Dani: driving a car?
Danny: Right. Wait, how long have you been eavesdropping? Dani: Long enough to blackmail you both. Сomputer’s mine for the rest of the week. Dan and Danny: Shit.
~~~~~
The Invisobill. or Phantom. Ha. Danny Fenton…Danny Phantom. Weston boy said crazy things. Yeah. But what if he was only partially wrong? Everything except the color of its eyes and hair is so much like Danny's. If this were typical manipulation from a ghost hoping to shake the desire of ghost hunters to chase a creature similar to their child, he would have had to give it up months ago. But phantom did not change his disguise. This is his true form. What about ghost girl and older ghost? They are also so young.
Maddie could not sleep. In her head struggled scientist and woman weighed down by feelings of guilt and shame. She was tormented by philosophical problems and religious issues. No, Maddie, not even a neural tube is formed at that time. It was just a collection of cells. It’s not a person. It doesn’t feel pain. And ghosts do not too. Right? Is it even acceptable to compare such things? Is it possible that a ghost is not the remnant of negative human emotions and memories? What is responsible for its formation then? What is the purpose of such a ghost? And more importantly, how long have these ghosts been near and they did not notice? Has the portal become a source of energy necessary for their existence in the physical plane? Or is it only they who have not seen them?
So painful. It’s so unpleasant to think about what monsters they look like to their dear Danny and Jazz. Ghosts or not, she threatened creatures who might have been part of their family in front of her babies. God, naive teens must think that three Phantoms are their siblings or something. Of course! That explains the disappearance of fenton thermos and the way the Phantoms sneak into the portal and Danny’s always somewhere in trouble and…Oh my God, they could be in so much danger! How long has this been going on? No, the real question is..Hm, if this is going on for so long, why haven’t the ghosts done anything…evil? If their nature is in the destruction then why didn’t anything happen? Jack and she would never have missed something that would hurt their children.
~~~~~~
The fight between the Skulker and Invisobill was particularly fierce this time. Maddie was unlucky to be in one of the damaged buildings. But who is she if not a scientist? She will find a way to benefit in such a situation.
Unnecessary risk, completely unprofessional. But… The debris of the wall does not lie on her very tightly and the weapon still with Maddie. Yeah. She has to test her theory. She has to. She can get up and leave if she needs to. Right? A little dizziness never killed anyone. She just feels cold and sounds are strange. Maddie: Help. Help! Someone! M-Maddie? An insecure voice with an echo sounds. Yes, it's near. Maddie: Help! I can’t.. I can’t get up. T-Hard to breathe. Danny: Mum! Mama, hold on, I’m coming.
Phantom checks her pupillary reflex. Who taught him that? Jazz? The touch of his hand, so cold and shaky. Now Maddie really doesn't feel so good. It’s good that the ghost is her boy. She doesn’t have to worry about anything happening to people around. Neither he nor Danny know how to lie. She can breathe. Just cover her eyes for a moment and… Just a few seconds. Phantom:Jazz, Jazz! Call an ambulance. I don’t know what to do. I..I can’t just make mum intangible. What if she has a crush syndrome and I make it worse or… Her boy. Why is Danny so scared? Danny: Tucker, she is bleeding and she’s not responding to me and… Sshh, my little star, is all right. Mom just needs to lie down and rest a little.
~~~~~~
Maddie could not believe that she had actually passed out. But the time spent in the hospital gave her enough time to think about everything.
Maddie: Jack, we need to talk. I know this is gonna sound crazy but I think Phantom, the ghost boy, is actually our son. And I’m sure Danny and Jazz know about it too.
Jack: Honey, are you sure we don’t need to double-check if you have a concussion?
~~~~~~
Maddie and Jack decide to watch surveillance videos for the first time. After all, it concerns the safety of their children, they have the right to know what happens in the house in their absence. Especially when the ghosts are nearby. Children *live in their own sitcom*:
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They have seen enough. Maddie decides to check chats on Jazz’s phone. It’s for their safety, only. She’s a good mother but what if the ghosts are up to something?
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The chat was so..Teenage? And Chaotic. Normal? No, definitely not. How many times have they punished Danny unfairly? Did Jazz learn to lie and they didn’t even notice? And what the hell, why were they joking about dissection. It’s just awful. They need to talk immediately. No, it will look suspicious. They need to try to make contact with ghosts. And then they’ll all be grounded. All five.
Oh, and she thought two kids were a lot of work. How are they gonna handle three more with the bizarre biology ectology? Do they have hobbies, interests? They are definitely more complicated than theblob-ghosts. Was she wrong? Do they have emotions, a need for socialization? Can she trust her emotions in this matter?
~~~~Bonus~~~~
"What the hell happened to freak’s neck?!"
Danny: Um, excuse me, ma'am, he’s been doing Hatha yoga in India for years. Practice opens up amazing flexibility in the joints! Right, brother?
Dan: Fuck off.
Ma'am: Don’t take me for an idiot! What about his skin color then? Jack: You have something against my son’s tan? Dan: I told you going shopping with me was a bad idea. Dani: If you didn’t scare everyone around, it wouldn’t be so bad.
Dan:...I didn’t even try to do it this time. Why is she meddling?!
~~~Bonus~~~~
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Dan: Why am I only third? Dani: Because I have successfully stabbed Danny in the back when he did not expect it. With you he is always waiting for a trick. This makes me much more successful than you :)
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esta-elavaris · 6 months
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Flufftober Day 15: Emergency, Confession, Adventure [2,778 words]
My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here 💜✨
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Notes: So I’m using Ada as the OC in this, and if you’ve read Catch the Wind, you’ll recognise her from that. But you don’t need to know that to understand this, it doesn’t have to take place in the same universe, it’s mostly just me taking a wee shortcut so I don’t need to built a whole new OC for the sake of this one little story.
This one was very difficult – not only because of, well, Jack, but because if I was going to do this well, it would be a good 50k words with a lot of build-up and development and all of my usual bullshit. But it’s flufftober and there’s no time for that, so it had to be super mega condensed instead. I figure you guys understand that, and shortcuts can be taken. The thing with Jack is that he's never going to be a fairytale prince (*cough*Norrington*cough*) so this was the closest I could get to a kinda sorta sweet romance involving him.
And it features murder.
Anyway, warning for canon-typical violence here 💜
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Jack and Ada had something that she liked to think of as an understanding. It had begun one time, a couple of years ago, when he’d come to her tavern seeking a woman to pass the night with – before promptly finding something wrong with every single available choice on offer. Ada knew he was playing games with her then, for any woman who she employed was beautiful in some way or another, truly one for any and every taste, and so if none were to his liking (he declared that one had unsightly elbows, for god’s sake), it was because he was determined not to like any of them.
Then, when she’d asked him what exactly it was he was seeking, he’d gone to great pains…to describe her. Simply fixing her with that dark stare of his and watching with a smirk when she brought forth a girl who did look somewhat like her, before waving that girl away. Ada had laughed at him for it, and the laugh lost much of its impact when she fell into bed with him later that night.
She didn’t charge him. Not because she balked at the idea of being considered a whore, and not because she was soft on him either. No, mostly it was because she had a good time, and she knew that charging would set a dangerous precedent for the other men here. If they all thought she had a price, she’d never be rid of them. But a casual arrangement for some fun with a handsome captain who would never desire anything more from her? That wasn’t a half bad thing.
Until he got it in his head to start playing mind games.
“Jack,” she greeted when he swaggered into her tavern one night – the first night in months. “How can we help you tonight?”
By her reckoning, it had been upwards of five visits in a row that he’d chosen to wait for her to be free for the night rather than paying for the company of one of her girls. But it wouldn’t do to assume – and she knew him well enough to know his choice could be a decision to save gold…or a point of masculine pride, perhaps, for she wouldn’t fake a thing without monetary incentive. But the gold thing didn’t much check out, considering he could charm plenty of women across the island free of charge.
Still, when he sniffed and dug his hands into his pockets, she knew this time was different.
“That blonde lass, I think. Cheery one. Name like…Opal? Amethyst?...Topaz?”
Ada chuckled – something he didn’t seem to like as his dark eyes remained fixed on her for any hint of a reaction to the status quo being upended.
“I would never employ a girl called Topaz,” she teased. “It’s Pearl you’re after. I’d have thought you’d remember that easily enough. Make yourself at home and I’ll send her over.”
 He hesitated, eyes narrowing for a moment, and then he sniffed and went to his usual table. And Ada? Ada put the matter from her mind. To not expect something like this from Jack was to be an idiot, and she was not an idiot. Indeed, her greatest reaction was to secure some company for herself for the night – only once he’d absconded with Pearl, otherwise the fool would get it in his head that she was trying to make him jealous. The only thing worse than giving someone the reaction they sought was having them mistakenly think you’d done so.
There was a particular sailor in for the night – handsome, and with the outrageous confidence to match. He was happy enough to hang around until her business for the night could be left in the hands of her right-hand man, who was always complaining about not having enough responsibility. Everybody won. A fair enough form of salvaging the night, she thought.
She slipped out of her quarters in the wee small hours, the tavern empty save for those who were passed out and too heavy to haul away, clad in a silk robe that had been a gift from a captain from the east who’d sought to seduce her. He’d succeeded, for a time. The stale smell of drink, smoke, and sweat lingered in the humid air – on the rare occasion they managed to get rid of it while they were closed, it would be gone just in time for them to reopen again the next day, repeating the process. When she found Jack sitting in the dark at the bar without that usual smug post-fuck look on his face, she suspected he could not say the same. Which was surprising, for Pearl was very talented – and more than charming.
“Drink?” she asked.
“Do I have to pay for it?”
“Usually I’d charge you double for the cheek of asking,” she snorted. “But we’re closed…and this is from my own stash.”
Retrieving a bottle of wine from beneath the loose wooden floorboard, she slid atop the stool beside his, uncorked it, took a gulp, and then handed it in his direction. Ordinarily at this hour, had they spent the night with one another, they’d have lapsed into quiet chat about nothing in particular – in a way that circled around to be about everything. He’d tell tales of his adventures, of the fantastical things he had seen in such a way that she was often left wondering if he was teasing her or not.
And Ada? Well, Ada hadn’t seen much beyond Tortuga. She’d come here young, very young, with her parents and worked her way up to where she was now once they died not long thereafter. So she told him what she wanted to see. Not in a dirty way, either. Of myths and legends she’d heard, and how she planned to find out for herself one day whether they were true or not. She had a plan for that, too, in the form of her ‘one day’ fund, carefully hidden in her room. She’d been adding to it ever since she stopped living hand to mouth, and one day was drawing nearer and nearer – she just knew it.
Jack was one of the few who did not laugh at her when she told him that.
“Busy night, love?” he asked.
“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” she teased.
His moustache twitched as his lips threatened to purse, and Ada arched one dark eyebrow at him.
“A more irrational woman might think you’re showing signs of jealousy, Captain. But that would be hypocritical, would it not?”
His brow furrowed for a moment, but then he sniffed, shrugged, and handed the bottle back to her before speaking lightly.
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“No. I would not. It’s different for men.”
Ada cracked a dangerous, disbelieving smile. “Oh?”
“Take the King of England. He – they, all of them collectively…consecutively, in their time King-ing – have mistresses. The queens never do. See. Different.”
“And when did you decide that the King’s standard is the one you wish to follow?”
“I’ve robbed many of his men. Allows me to make a decent assessment of what he must be like.”
Scoffing, she toyed with the neck of the bottle and rolled her eyes at how Jack’s eyes seemed to struggle in distancing themselves from the gesture.
“The queens cannot stray because it calls the line of succession into question. That is not a problem here – unless you’re truly suggesting we have a child?”
There was nothing Ada liked the idea of less. Not with him, nor with anybody. Ever.
“I might be,” he sniffed.
“Ugh.”
He grinned – but then a thud sounded from the door to her quarters, tucked where they were behind the bar, and his eyes narrowed as they sought the source of the noise.
“A moment,” she murmured, slipping from the stool and making to go and see her guest out, like any good host would.
“Ada,” Jack said.
In hindsight, she would realise she should have noted the shift in his voice. The way it morphed from teasing and casual to suddenly insistent and serious. For Jack was never serious.
“I’m saying goodbye, Jack, not going for round two,” she snorted, shrugging off the hand that tried to grab at her arm.
 Leaving swiftly so as to avoid any bickering on the topic, she rounded the bar and strode to her room. She entered to find it torn apart, the mattress askew in the frame, one of her pillows cut open, her drawers emptied and overturned. By the time she’d finished demanding what the hell he thought he was doing, he had a pistol aimed at her chest.
“Who were you talking to out there?”
God, she hoped Jack was hearing this. More still – she hoped, against all hope, that he would help.
“No one.”
“Liar.”
“No one!” she insisted loudly. “Mr Drake is passed out drunk, I was trying to wake him so he’d leave, but there was no managing it.”
The sailor’s lip curled, but he seemed satisfied enough – although he did not lower the gun.
“Where are the jewels? The gold?”
“Jewels and gold?” she breathed a laugh. “If I had much of either, I wouldn’t live here, lad.”
“This place makes a killing every night,” he jabbed the gun in her direction. “I’ve watched. I’ve noticed.”
“How observant of you,” she said drily, crossing her arms as though he was being ridiculous.
It allowed her to feel the racing of her heart all the more.
“You have to spend money to make money. Most of it goes back into the running of the establishment. Once the staff have been taken care of, I can barely afford to eat.”
“Your windows are cracked, your door is rotting, and your rum is second-rate. You’ve got a stash somewhere.”
“I have an old onyx necklace you’re more than welcome to,” she scoffed, “It only has one scratch across it, and the setting is tarnished. It might earn you a few shillings. Beyond that, I’m afraid I can’t help.”
A creak sounded in the tavern proper behind her, the sailor’s attention shot towards it, and Ada made her mistake. Her eyes darted in the direction of the porcelain dolls lined up neatly atop her wardrobe, and when she looked back to the sailor, he was already following her gaze. And then he was grinning.
He took a step in their direction, and the cocking of the pistol stopped her in her tracks when she made to follow. Tall as he was, it was little problem for him to retrieve one of the dolls – and when he shook it, it rattled heavily.
The shutters to the window were open, and he threw them one by one out of it. Ada listened to them hit the sand outside – years of careful saving and dreaming, all gone in a matter of minutes. Because she’d sought to salvage the night with the wrong person.
When the final doll was flung outside, he grinned and turned to her.
“Not often I get a bit of fun and paid for my troubles.”
“A pity your mother couldn’t say the same,” Ada shot back.
It was difficult to regret it, even as his trigger finger twitched. But, finally, he lowered the gun, grin in place as he smoothed back his blond hair.
“You’re emotional. I’ll let you have that one.”
Turning back towards the window, he leaned out of it and looked down. The tavern was on sandy terrain, and therefore on stilts, so no doubt he sought to make sure he wouldn’t land on his new prize in the dark. But then a shot rang out through the night, and his body slumped over the window frame, arms slackening and boots twitching against the floor.
Ada went down almost as quickly, arms curled over her head. A double-crossing accomplice, maybe? One who sought to double his prize? She remained there, crouched down low, poised to duck under the bed or run for Jack at the first sign of trouble, when the voice of that very pirate hissed through the night.
“Are you going to come and get these Ada, love, or am I to throw these very breakable dolls at you?”
She gawped, and then she was up in the next moment, dragging aside the corpse – it was far from the first she’d seen – and leaning over the bloodied frame. Jack stood there, smug as all hell, the very bloodied dolls gathered in his arms. Once she’d accepted them, he leapt up and grasped the sill with both hands, pulling himself up and into the room in a very annoying feat of upper body strength.
“Now,” he grunted as he clambered into the room. “I can’t say I’m not tempted to say I told you so.”
To illustrate his point, he knocked a boot against the leg of the corpse. Ada didn’t laugh. She was unable to, shakier than she’d like to show, counting and recounting the dolls over and over again, furious at her own stupidity in how she’d given the game away.
“Strange place to hide your gold, love,” he grunted.
Silently, she wrenched the head from one of the dolls, pulled a string of very fine pearls from within, and held it out in his direction.
“For your trouble,” she said flatly. “I’ll give you more if you handle the body for me.”
“I’ve never needed payment to handle bodies,” he teased, voice adopting a low note.
She didn’t laugh, taking in the wreckage of her room, still caught between shock, fury, and terror. The stock of very strong drinks next door was sounding very, very good. Even if they were second-rate.
“Ada, darlin’,” he changed tact, approaching and regarding the dolls. “If they’re all stocked up with goods like these…you’ve enough to book passage a hundred times over. What is it exactly you’re waiting for?"
"It’s not just about booking passage,” she shook her head. “I’m not looking to go from one shack to another. I want…I want adventure. Freedom. To go everywhere, see everything. I can’t do that alone – not as a woman. Look at what just happened here tonight under my own roof. I need…I need enough to pay a man or two to watch my back. Protection, food, passage for me and them, room and board…all of it.”
“Most men here would slit your throat and take the lot if they cottoned on to the stock you’ve got here.”
“I can be very charming when I need to be, Jack.”
“…Think that might only harm your case, depending on the man, love.”
Ada sighed, in no mood for this debate.
“Three necklaces,” Jack said finally.
“You’re haggling with me? Now?”
“I am not,” he looked offended at the very notion. “One for that. Two for getting rid of it. Another…for passage on the Pearl.”
Ada stared at him in disbelief. When he saw the look, he cleared his throat, frowned, and stared straight ahead – leaving her with the impression that the offer could be rescinded if she so much as breathed in a way that unsettled him in the next few minutes.
“They can spare you here for a few weeks, can’t they? Come out, see…whatever there is to see, after that…” he trailed off, shrugged, and sniffed. “That’s for after.”
“You’re asking me to travel with you?”
“Don’t get…clingy,” he made a vague sort of gesture – as if she’d ever clung – but the insult was taken from the rule when he added at a grumble. “…And don’t cavort with any of me men.”
He was offering this. Truly. Her disbelief was sharply morphing into delight.
“What about the women?”
Jack grinned. “Only if I’m invited, love.”
That could be arranged.
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Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune
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earlgreydream · 3 years
Text
ignored.
| loki x reader | fluff |
anon requested. nobody really listens to them so they just leave and Loki follows them and let’s the reader know that they’re there for them & reader feels like shit because she thinks that no one really listens/cares about her but Loki’s there and holds them and tells them stories
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Nobody listened to you.
You had tried to make yourself heard among the avengers, but you kept getting pushed aside. In meetings, you were talked over. Around the tower, you had been in conversations and interrupted by your colleagues, pulling the other away. 
You were one of them, but you felt ignored and overlooked. A single instance may not have bothered you, but this had gone on for weeks now, and you felt isolated from your friends. 
You were a newer addition to the team, and you didn’t feel quite like you fit in with them, or at least not yet. You had tried to give it time, but it was difficult, overwhelming, and frustrating.
.
Loki had witnessed you being brushed aside on multiple occasions. He was familiar with the feeling of not fitting in, and how exhausting and isolating it could be. 
The two of you were friends, but hadn’t really been close. You were slightly distrustful of the mischievous god, something Thor had convinced you was good judgment. Loki knew how you felt, and he couldn’t blame you, though he still desired to earn your friendship and connect with you. 
.
Loki knew you deserved better than the way you were being treated, and he watched your expression fall as Thor once again brushed you off. 
You had been in the middle of trying to explain a strategy you felt was best for your upcoming mission. You were smart, and incredibly clever, and Loki felt like they should’ve been paying much better attention to what you had to say. 
You were interrupted by Stark, who cut into your conversation and pulled Thor away to talk about the mission, completely disregarding what you had been talking about with the god.
Your hand went to your stomach, trying to settle yourself. You turned and walked from the training room, attempting to conceal the frustrated tears that were threatening to fall. 
Loki stood, following you from the training room, all the way to the library, where you had collapsed onto a couch to cry. Loki hesitated for a moment in the doorway, trying not to embarrass you. 
You looked up, startled when your name was called. You recognized the voice without having to turn around, deep and sultry with an accent. You immediately tried to stop your tears, sniffling and inhaling stuttered breaths.
“It’s okay. I’m so sorry they don’t listen to you.”
You were shocked to hear the acknowledgement. You’d kept your feelings and hurts bottled, thinking it was all in your head, or you were just overreacting. At the validation from Loki, you started crying again, unable to hold back your emotions.
“Oh,” Loki sat down beside you, laying a hand on your back.
“I didn’t think anyone noticed.”
“I noticed.”
You nodded, letting yourself rest your head against his shoulder. You accepted the comfort Loki gave, smiling as he conjured a blanket around the two of you. Your hands wrapped around his strong bicep, thankful for the comfort from the god.
“Thank you, Loki,” your whisper was hoarse.
“I think you’re clever, and you need to be heard. Don’t cry, darling, you’re wonderful.”
You smiled at him, brushing your tears away with the sleeve of your sweater.
“Do you think so?”
“I’m entirely certain,” Loki promised, brushing a piece of hair from your face.
“You know, nobody listened to me when I first got here. I was brushed off too, similar to you. It just takes time for them to warm up, you must be persistent, I’m afraid,” Loki’s voice was smooth, his deep baritone soothing.
You listened, curled up against his side on the couch. He continued with his story, and you felt better knowing that you weren’t alone in your struggle. You’d completely stopped crying as you giggled at the story of Loki standing on a table in the conference room, demanding Stark listen to him. 
“You did that?”
“I did,” he nodded, mirroring your amused smile.
“Thank you, for cheering me up,” you wrapped your arms around his waist.
“My pleasure,” he hugged you, resting his chin on top of your head.
.
You walked into the meeting, Loki falling into step beside you. He lightly squeezed your arm, offering you silent reassurance of his support. 
“Any ideas about how to infiltrate the Baron’s manor?” Stark asked, spreading out floor plans on the table for your crew to look at.
“I have an idea,” you spoke.
“I was actually thinking-” Parker started, but Loki immediately interrupted him.
“Y/N was about to share her idea, and I think it’s best if you listen!” his voice was sharp, silencing the chatter in the room.
Stark looked up at you, and you nodded at Loki before explaining your plan, pointing out the fully-thought-out details on the map. For the first time, they actually paid attention to what you were saying, all agreeing it was a solid plan. 
“Thank you,” Bucky said, earning a smile. 
“Of course.”
.
“Has it been better?” Loki asked, laying on your bed as you stretched and practiced fighting stances in the middle of the floor.
“A lot better. Thank you,” you answered, setting down your weapon and walking over to him, straddling his waist and sitting on his abdomen. 
“Don’t thank me. It’s all you,” he smiled, his hands resting on your waist. 
You grinned, leaning down and planting a kiss on his lips. His hands traveled under the fabric of your tank top, squeezing your warm hips. You kissed him slowly, indulging in the slow, lazy afternoon makeout session. 
“Woah, sorry to interrupt. I was just hoping to get your opinion on this route?” Bucky’s startled voice came from the doorway. 
You sat up quickly, slipping off of your annoyed boyfriend. 
“Absolutely!” you said, trying to shake the embarrassment. 
“Go, I’ll be here,” Loki kissed your cheek.
You followed Bucky, happy to be consulted. 
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shorkbrian · 3 years
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I swear I ain’t in it for the money, but I can’t stop thinking about sugar daddy shoto. Maybe he sweeps a cute little college kid or barista of their feet, just something fun and casual. But this man starts falling harder, needing a way to lock them down to him. Money isn’t quite cutting it anymore, so he decides fucking a baby into her would do the trick. Shoto would push her down into the mattress, large frame twisting her into a sweet mating press. This way they could stay together forever and Shoto would have absolutely no problem providing for his sweet family <3
but fr tho I feel like Shouto is NOT the type for kids.
Mans will tolerate them when they babble or wave at him, but he very actively Does Not Want them.
Always uses condoms, and even though he’ll threaten not to, it’s never a legit thought in his mind to cum inside. Shouto doesn’t want to be a dad.
-----
You’ll be sittin on a park bench, fading sunset dark and pretty in front of you yet all you can do is cry. There’s not really any people around so it’s not like you’re bothering anyone - you hadn’t wanted to cry in your shabby apartment (half the cause of your worries) just in case you received a noise complaint.
“Are you alright?”
A somber, smooth voice is heard. You’re swiping at your tears quickly as you look up, trying to laugh off your state of distress. “Oh, haha, yeah I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” It’s hard to smile with your puffy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.
The man in front of you frowns, hands in his coat pockets, scarf draped around his neck. “You don’t look fine. Mind if I sit?”
He’s already claiming the spot next to you on the bench before you can say a word, turning to you with a passive expression. “Why are you crying?”
And that’s all it takes to have you breaking down all over again, tears streaming down your face. Just one person offering to listen to the heavy burden you have to bear.
‘’M sor-sorry...” You sob, wiping at your eyes with frigid fingers, successful in doing nothing more but smearing tears around your face.
“Here.” The man’s taking off his scarf, gloved hands offering it you.
“I ca-can’t use your sc-scarf sir.” But he’s insistent, pressing it into your hands up by your face.
“I’ll just get another one. Keep it, you’re in need of it more than I am.”
The kindness makes another fresh bout of tears roll down your cheeks, but this time you're able to dab them away with soft fabric as you sniffle.
It takes a moment for you to calm yourself. When you do, you can finally engage in conversation with the man.
You tell him about your job hours getting cut, how you’ve been turned down or ignored by every single place you’ve applied at for a second job. How you’re barely affording to wash your clothes - you have to hang them or drape them across things in your apartment because you don’t have the money to pay for a dryer cycle.
And to top it all off, you’re still short on rent, despite how you scrimped and saved and even forced yourself not to buy groceries this week - you’ve gone hungry for the past three days.
“You haven’t eaten?”
You glance up at the man and his incredulous expression, shaking your head. “I’ve been trying to save money, I thought I could afford my rent if-”
“What kind of food do you like?” The man is pulling out his phone, swiping and tapping immediately. 
“Thank you, but I’m not-” looking for charity is what you want to say. Plus, you shouldn’t accept favors from strange men.
But the handsome man is waving you silent. “I’m cold, plus I’d like to grab a bite to eat before I head home. I don’t like eating alone though, you’d honestly be doing me a favor.”
You take a moment to process. Is he telling the truth? He sounds like an honest guy.
“Seems like the only place open around here is “Joe’s 24 hour Diner”.... You mind burgers?”
So that's how you end up in a booth opposite the man (”Shouto” he had told you as you both headed to the diner), munching away at warm food. It tastes so good, you hardly have time to worry about the man watching you as he eats.
You’d been shocked at his looks the moment you’d seen him in the light of the diner. Pretty two-toned hair, different colored eyes, perfect skin, expensive clothes. Why was he even talking to you? It’s obvious the two of you led very different lives.
“How does everything taste?”
“Delicious.” Is your response, and Shouto seems pleased, nodding before taking another bite of his meal.
Maybe it’s stupid... but you feel weirdly safe with this man. He doesn’t seem to bear any ill-intent towards you, nor has he made any comments about your body or let his hands or eyes stray. He seems like a gentleman.
Conversation flows easily between the two of you, even sharing a few chuckles at times. He’s some fancy rich businessman, you learn, and you share about your own life, laughing at the comparisons. Shouto can’t fathom growing up in a house with less than five bedrooms and a personal servant.
He asks for your number, and you’re hesitant in giving it - he surely can’t be interested in you? But he seems so sincere, it’s hard to say no.
When the two of you part ways, Shouto gives you a wave, “Hope to see you again soon, and under better circumstances.”
“You too! And sorry for being such a mess and stopping your walk-”
Shouto shrugs, cheeks beginning to pink from the cold air as you two stand outside the diner. “You needed help. I like to assist.”
-----
The next morning you wake to find an atrociously large sum deposited in your Venmo account by none other than a Shouto Todoroki.
Immediately, you’re calling him. “It’s too much, we just met. How can you give away that much money to some low-life?”
You hear him sigh on the other end of the phone. “You’re obviously struggling. I was wondering what your hours are this week, perhaps we could talk about this over dinner? Or lunch, if that fits better with your schedule. I’m flexible.”
It’s a few days later, days spent questioning yourself, questioning his intentions, before you see him again, both of you deciding to meet for lunch to further discuss... whatever had just happened.
“Was what I gave you adequate to cover your rent?” Are the first words out of Shouto’s mouth after you greet each other.
“Yeah, more than enough-” You squirm. “But I need to ask.... why?”
“Why?”
“Why me.” 
“Oh.” Shouto’s expression clears. “That’s easy. I told you a few days ago - I like to assist. I’m quite lonely, and it feels nice to use my money on someone other than myself. I think providing for someone brings me... I wouldn’t quite say joy, but... contentment.”
You contemplate his answer for a moment. 
“Well... you saved me with my rent, I don’t really know how to thank you.”
The man leans forward. “Well.... I know it might be a bit sudden, but how would you feel accepting me as a.... benefactor of sorts?”
“You mean like a sugar daddy?” Is your immediate, blurted response. You want to slap yourself for speaking before you have the chance to think about your words, but luckily Shouto just lets out a light laugh.
“If you’d like to call it that. I’m willing to provide financial assistance for you, in exchange for companionship, if you’re willing to give it.”
Your face heats up as you drop your eyes, fidgeting nervously in your seat. “I don’t feel comfortable with a... a sexual relationshi-”
“That’s perfectly acceptable.” Shouto cuts you off before you can continue. “I wasn’t trying to insinuate a contract of that nature. I’m thinking more along the lines of accompanying me at meals, sharing experiences with me, providing company and friendship to a lonely man. If it seems that we’d like to progress further than that after we get to know each other, well, that will be addressed then. For now-” Shouto meets your eye, dipping his head a smidgeon so he can look at you directly. “All I ask for is a simple, non-intimate bond between two people.”
This is crazy.
And yet you accept.
The situation may be wild, and completely absurd, but you’d be a fool not to say yes.
Shouto is charming and handsome, respectful, courteous - you could go on and on about his positive qualities. He just seems like a sad, lonesome man swallowed by work and responsibilities, too stressed and busy to put the effort into making friends the conventional way. 
-----
Months pass by.
You’re eating at every meal, sated and never going hungry. You’re able to move into a new place, one that doesn’t smell like cigarettes and sits right next to a railroad.
Clothes aren’t a worry anymore, you have your own washer and dryer in your new apartment (Shouto offered to buy you a house, or a penthouse at the least, but you couldn’t justify it to yourself). You’re able to afford new things, and pretty dresses, shoes that are comfortable and fashionable and that fit.
You no longer have to wear clothes down until they have holes in them. You’re able to go to the doctor’s when you feel sick, able to pay for health insurance.
Life is good.
Shouto is a personable man, serious, but he can be rather funny and even crude at times.
The doubt and thoughts of “Why is he doing this for me?” and “I’m not good enough for this.” plague you, but Shouto always seems to catch on, reassuring you that you’re exactly what he needs - a friend.
And you’re more than happy to be that.
You think sometimes, that even if he wasn’t paying you, you’d still like to be friends with Shouto Todoroki.
Until he starts acting weird.
“You should just stay at my place. I have more than enough room,, it’d be easier for both our schedules. We’d get to see each other more often.”
“Uhm...” You don’t really know what to say. You like your freedom, and having your own place where you can walk around in your (expensive) underwear without being bothered.
“I think it’d be nice, don’t you? We could have breakfast every morning, you wouldn’t have to worry about traveling to and fro, we could spend more time together. We don’t see each other nearly enough.”
He’s pushing, insistent. How are you supposed to tell him no? He’s paying for your entire life. Plus, it wouldn’t be that bad to actually live with him. Shouto’s an amicable man.
So you move in.
“I bought you a few things, they’re on your bed.” 
Shouto’s striding into the kitchen where you’re making coffee, buttoning up his shirt as he comes closer. You’ve found that the man likes to sleep in nothing but boxers, shrieking and flushing an embarrassing shade the first time he’d come to wake you up with a sweet “welcome” breakfast in bed.
It’s taken a while to adjust, but you finally feel that you’re fully settled in.
“Oh, you really don’t ha-”
“I wanted to. I went through your closet - your clothes are nice, but your underwear seemed to be lacking.” He’s so matter-of-fact.
All you can do is stare at the back of his head.
“Could you pass me a spoon please?”
-----
Shouto had splurged on expensive, fancy lingerie. 
At least eight different sets were laid out on your bed. It was overwhelming. It also felt.... a bit intrusive? They were all in your size, in a complementary color for your skin tone. 
Weird.
Not as weird as the onset of Shouto’s casual touches.
You’d be reading, or drinking tea and watching cars race by on the street so far below, and Shouto would come up behind you, caress your sides before intertwining his fingers with yours on one hand. He did it as if it was a normal thing, but it felt anything but normal.
Or you’d be on the couch together, and Shouto would shuffle closer until his large body was pressed to yours, almost curled around you. The faux-cuddling was a bit more off putting. How do you tell him no?
The touches became more and more intimate, Shouto’s gifts more and more frequent until you weren’t even spending a penny, the man taking care of everything.
The arrangement was beginning to make you uncomfortable.
Shouto’s bi-colored eyes seemed to always be on you, tracing the shape of your body, watching you move, or breath, or sit. It was distracting, and you felt bad for feeling this way towards the man who’d pulled you out of poverty, but it was so unnerving.
He seemed to notice.
“You’ve been so stressed these past few days. Is something wrong?” Shouto’s rubbing a hand into your shoulder, hovering over you at the dinner table.
“No?” Is all you can manage, wiping your hands on your napkin as you finish your food.
Shouto frowns. With a sigh, his hand drops from your shoulder and the man leaves your side, heads toward the kitchen.
You clear your plate from the table, following after him so you can wash it and put it in the dishwasher before you head off to get ready for bed. 
But Shouto is rummaging in a cupboard, pulling down two wine glasses to accompany the bottle of wine that’s standing proud on the island.  It’s your favorite, a sweet wine that Shouto knows you like, always brings it out when he decides to drink whisky or bourbon after dinner.
He pops the cork and pours you a glass while you finish with your dishes, handing you the glass when you turn away from the sink, pressing it into your hands. “Let’s relax a little bit, it’ll be good for both of us.”
You’re fine with that, knowing that a little wine won’t hurt you, especially when it’s of such fine quality. You’d never dreamed that you’d be able to taste such richness in your lifetime, spend frivolous amounts of money on wine and fine eateries. Yet here you are.
Shouto pours himself a glass, barely a sip filling the bottom. The man raises it to his lips and takes a swig, grimacing a bit in his flat, unexpressive way. You giggle a little.
“Too sweet?’
The man nods, setting the glass back down. “I’m not entirely sure how you can stand to stomach it. But if it makes you happy-” He shrugs, before pulling on of the bar-stools out from under the island so he can sit facing you, long legs stretching out before him.
You look at him, and he looks at you, and then you take another sip of wine to avoid the awkwardness.
“You’re distancing yourself from me.”
The accusation is quiet, Shouto’s eyes focused on your fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass.
He’s always been straightforward with his words. “Is there a reason you keep drawing away?”
The wine disappears from your glass, sliding down your throat and settling in your stomach. You fill your glass again before speaking, struggling to find the right words without upsetting your... benefactor.
“Well, Shouto... I don’t really know how to...” You trail off, hoping Shouto will say something, change the subject, say it’s alright and move on to something else.
But the man stays silent, eyes appraising you.
Taking a deep breath, and another gulp of sweetness, you try again.
“Sometimes the closeness... like, physical closeness? Makes me, well, uncomfortable.”
Hopefully, that would satisfy his curiosity for now. That wasn’t the only reason you’d been avoiding Shouto seeming distant, but you didn’t think sharing the others would result in anything good.
Said man accepted your response, dropping his eyes to his lap as he mulled it over. More wine was consumed, glass re-filled. You felt nervous.
“You’re saying that my touch isn’t something you’d prefer.”
Biting your lip, you soften at his confused expression, at the hint of sadness swimming behind his eyes. “Kind of. I don’t mind you Shouto, you’re really kind, and you’re good company, and a wonderful friend. I just don’t think the.... the intimacy is for me.”
Shouto raises his head, stares at you with those pretty eyes, lips parted as he comes to terms with your words. 
“It sounds like you don’t trust me. I would never hurt you, you know this.”
You scramble to assure him. “I do! I do trust you, and I know you wouldn’t.” (at least you hoped) “But I guess I just... Coming into this agreement I wasn’t ready for that type of... thing. I don’t know if I ever will be.”
The man rises, shakes his head as he steps closer to you. “Don’t worry, I remember our first conversation about that aspect. I see that for you, that type of relationship would only begin after you really cared for the other person, trusted and wanted to see them happy, am I correct?”
“Oh, Shouto-” You rush. “No, I care for you, and I trust you, and of course I want to see you happy. I think it’s just, y’know, my last relationship like that went really bad, and it sucked. I don’t want to go through that again.”
Shouto nods, understanding. “I see. You don’t have to worry about any of that with me then.”
A smile crosses your face, and you feel relived that he accepted your rejection with grace and understanding instead of violence or anger. “Thank you, it means a lot to me.”
The mood of the room shifted, from tense and uncomfortable, to easy and light, and you poured another glass of wine, laughing a little at how worried you were about the conversation with Shouto, only for it all to turn out fine.
“I’m going to go drink some of the liquor that’s kept in my room. I could mix a few drinks for you to try, you might like how sweet they are. I know hard alcohol isn’t quite your thing.”
You beam a smile, nodding your head eagerly. Before, you’d feel apprehensive about going into his room with him to drink alcohol. But with the conversation the two of you just had, you knew - things would be fine.
-----
The room was spinning and you felt giddy and light. You were definitely tipsy.
“You can lay down on my bed, you’re getting wobbly on your feet.” Shouto had offered, and you’d gladly accepted, flopping down onto his comfy bedspread with a laugh at how the motion made butterflies rise in your tummy.
Shouto leaned against his dresser, swirling whiskey in his glass as he watched you, a half-smile across his face. You smiled back, before closing your eyes, a little bit tired as you realized that you might be a bit more than just tipsy.
Shouto had mixed quite a few drinks for you, and you’d drank each one eagerly, impressed with how little alcohol you could taste in each one. You don’t remember how many you had, but it didn’t really matter.
The next thing you know, hands are on your waist, scooting you further up the bed so your legs no longer hang off the edge. Cracking open an eye, you’re met with the visage of red-and-white, eyes soft and warm as they regard you, Shouto’s face tinged a bit pink from the few drinks he had consumed. The man had never been too good at holding his alcohol.
When those hands started to slip beneath your shirt, you wiggled like a little worm, not really comprehending the situation. Maybe it was a dream.
Your shirt was discarded, then your pants. It felt much more comfortable now, and you mumbled a “thanks” to the man helping you settle for bed. He was so nice, Shouto took such good care of you. You still kind of couldn’t believe the turn your life had taken with him, the good luck pushed into your path.
Someone was kissing you.
With a grunt of surprise, you kissed them back, meeting their feverish pace and trying to keep up, soft lips puckering and pushing against your own with intent. Kissing felt good. You liked kissing.
Then a hand was cupping your face, stroking tenderly over your cheek before it began sliding down, down your neck, into the valley between your breasts, trailing over your bra. It felt funny.
Pushing back for air, you gasped when the hand on your chest started squeezing at you, eyes flying open with the startling, sudden sensation.
Shouto was hovering over you, lips puffy, panting as he stared at you with lusty eyes, an uncharacteristic look on his face. This... this wasn’t supposed to be like this. You knew. Hadn’t the two of you just talked about something... important? Was it important?
You didn’t feel panic until a hand cupped your sex, feeling your skin through your panties.
This wasn’t right.
Alarm bells were ringing, dull and far away, but you didn’t think that Shouto should be touching you in such a way. you should be going to bed.
“Mm, Sho, can you stop?” But your words felt funny on your tongue, and Shouto didn’t stop. Maybe he didn’t hear you.
His hair tickled your chin as the man bent to mouth at your tits, pulling the cups of your bra underneath them so he could feel your hot skin, let his saliva drag slick and wet against your chest. 
Your hands instinctively rooted themselves in his hair as you gasped again, not expecting such a move, tugging lightly at his head to pull him up. Shouto just groaned, teething gently at your breasts and not moving an inch. His hips were grinding against the bed though, as he stood between your spread legs.
Before you knew it, your panties were gone, bra clumsily unclasped and discarded, and you were completely bare. Shouto was undressing before you, struggling with the buttons on his shirt before giving up, easily ripping the fabric of his body with one tug, grumbling.
You didn’t feel so tipsy anymore.
“Shouto, what’re we doing? We shouldn’t be doing this, we need to stop-”
“Stay down.” Was his firm command, a hand splayed across your naked chest and pushing you back into the mattress as you tried to sit up. It made you breathless, the growl in his voice, the dominance emanating from the man. You stayed still.
“This’s gonna make us a stronger couple.” The man slurred, eyes dark and hands wandering, effortlessly keeping you pinned against the bed as he ground his hips forward against the edge. You were getting scared.
“Wait-”
You fell silent as one hand pushed down his pants, his underwear going with them, pink cock bobbing free. He was so pretty down there, and it made sense, all of him was pretty, but you suddenly realized the weight of the situation, what was happening.
“Shouto, no, oh my god. We gotta stop right now, we’re drunk, we’re-we’re-”
“Don’t care. Not gonna let you hide away from me this time.” Shouto shook his head, taking his cock in one hand and giving it a long, slow pump, flushed tip weeping precum and wetting his hand.
“No, no, this is wrong. I don’t want this, I could get pregnant!” You cried, beginning to panic for real, pushing against the one strong hand anchoring you to the bed.
Shouto just chuckled, letting go of his cock to crowd against you, getting up in your face to press a wet finger to your lips, the salty taste of his precum threatening to slip into your mouth unless you kept it shut. “Shhh, shh. If you stay nice and still, if you do what I say, I’ll use a condom.”
You couldn’t believe your ears.
“You’re gonna listen to me, you always do.” The man nodded to himself, once again dragging his cock against the bed between your legs, as if he couldn’t stop himself. “Or else I’ll fuck you raw.” The finger was pulled from your lips, only to be wagged teasingly in your face. 
You couldn’t believe how he was acting.
“Be nice.”
Shouto tapped your nose with a neatly manicured finger, before groaning as he heaved himself upright, red cock bobbing against his stomach, desperate for attention. The man gave you a look, as if to say “don’t move” before he took his hands off you, heading for his dresser.
Once you saw him pulling out a strip of condoms, you were on your feet, stumbling toward the door.
Although panic had sobered you somewhat, you were still struggling with the effects of the alcohol, so your reaction time was maddeningly slow. Slow enough that you weren’t able to truly fight against Shouto when he grabbed you from behind toned arms wrapping around your middle and heaving you into the air, only to throw you back on his bed.
You were almost sick on the bedspread, world spinning and stomach protesting, but you were able to calm yourself.
But then Shouto was on you, flipping you onto your back, a soft hand pressing against your throat threateningly. 
“You want to have a baby? Want me to cum in you so you’ll get all fat with kids? Hm?” He was so intense, almost choking you, straddling your waist and keeping you pinned. It was too much
You were able to manage a tearful, desperate “No!” despite the hand around your throat, and Shouto backed off, releasing the pressure to instead stroke his hand against the sides of your neck.
“Stop acting like this, it’s the next logical step for us. You said you cared for me, wanna make me happy. This’ll make me happy. I won’t be like the last guy.”
His cock was pressed against your stomach, and you could feel it twitching. Shouto clambered off of you, letting go of your neck so he could grab the condoms he’d tossed on the bed before snatching you up.
“Do what I say and I use these.” He waved them in your face before tearing one off, beginning to open it. 
You stayed still, gazing at him blearily, limbs feeling fuzzy, mind feeling the same.
The condom was rolled onto Shouto’s cock, the man spitting into his palm and giving the latex a few rubs to make it slick before reaching for you.
He dragged you to the edge of the bed - the perfect height for him to fuck you - and you didn’t fight, terrified of his threat. You couldn’t stand the thought of a baby.
(You didn’t know, but neither could he)
“Wanted to do this since I met you.” Shouto mumbled, pushing your panties to the side with a few fingers so he could guide his tip to your hole. “Want you so bad.”
You didn’t know what to think of this side of Shouto. This unreserved, uncareful, slurring mess of a man that loomed before you, gaze dark and wild, limbs everywhere as he groped and squeezed and appreciate the shape of your body.
But he must’ve gotten impatient, because then he was pushing inside.
It hurt, stinging pain rippling up your back and you keened, causing Shouto to pause. One of his hands darted down to wrap around your calf, hauling it up on the bed so he could lean forward and press it to you chest, sinking his cock a few inches deeper.
“You’re gonna take it.” He hissed before messily kissing you, pressed so close together that it was hard to breathe. “I’ll make it feel good after you do.”
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yandere-daydreams · 3 years
Text
Title: Closed Casket.
Commissioned by the very lovely @99shadowcat99.
Pairing: Yandere!Demon Brothers/Reader (Obey Me).
Word Count: 2.4k.
TW: Toxic Relationships, Dehumanization, Codependence, Threats of Violence, Mentions of Death, Implied Imprisonment.
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It was a closed-casket funeral.
For such a small detail, it bothered you more than it had any right to. You hadn’t been the one to arrange it, the one to speak to the undertaker and evaluate the damage – that was a responsibility that fell to her fiancé rather than you, a distant cousin, only brought up in conversations about postponed friendships and quickly thinning family trees. You’d done what you could to help, what a last living relative should do to help - paying for flower arrangements, speaking to financial advisors, sorting through her belongs and trying to guess at what might’ve held some sentimental value to someone more present in her life, but you never saw the body. No one ever offered, and you hadn’t known how to ask. She was gone, now, dead and buried, and you'd never gotten to see her, even if everyone who had said that it was probably for the best.
And it probably was. They were probably right. You wouldn’t feel any better, if you had.
And yet, you found it difficult to believe you could feel any worse than you did now, either.
Belphegor was curled around your arm. He had been since you came back from the Human World, slotted against your side, draped over your shoulders, and currently, splayed out on top of you, his face buried in the flesh just above your shoulder blade, his body forcibly tangled with yours in a way that was too awkward to be comfortable for both of you, a sacrifice he seemed more than willing to make on your behalf. You’d tried to shrug him off earlier, when he first decided there was enough space on the smallest loveseat in the common room for his strange, daily ritual, and when that failed, you’d tried to talk him into letting go, into loosening his grip enough for you to slip away when he fell asleep, into relocating to somewhere else, somewhere softer, somewhere with a pillow that could easily replace you when he was too busy tossing and turning to care, but Belphegor had always been so frustratingly picky when it came to where, how, and when he chose to sleep.
He’d chosen you, and he’d chosen like this, and he’d chosen now. There was little you could do to change his mind, after he’d already made it up.
Still, you tried. He wasn’t asleep yet, caught somewhere between permanently half-conscious state and a sleep deep enough to warrant medical concern for most living creatures, supernaturally inclined or otherwise. “Belphie,” You called, gently, pushing the temptation to try more forceful methods into the back of your mind. “Think you pick another spot? Just for today?”
“Can’t.” It was a simple response, his voice heavy with sourceless exhaustion, just as short and just as blunt as it had been the last time you asked. You weren’t sure what you’d expected, honestly. “You were gone. I can’t.”
Your frown deepened. You’d left for a week – nine days, at most. And Belphegor couldn’t have been awake for more than half of that. “That’s not--”
“He was lonely, sweetheart.” It was Asmodeus, this time, as he perched himself on the loveseat’s arm. He wasn’t any better than Belphie, nimble fingertips soon tracing aimless patterns over the side of your neck, the dip of your shoulder, taking up the space he could occupy since the space he’d like to was already in-use. “He’ll get better, in a few days. Once it sinks in that you won't be leaving again.”
You were out of practice. A month ago, you would’ve known better than to respond, than to ask questions to someone who took as much delight in festering doubts as Asmodeus did. A month ago, you would’ve brushed him off and found your way to Purgatory Hall for the rest of the night. But, it wasn’t a month ago, and you were tired. You were still thinking about that casket, and you couldn’t seem to think of much else. “What do you mean?”
“Oh?” There was a pause, a laugh, light and melodic and fluttering. You’d always liked his laugh. You could bring yourself to enjoy it, though, not right now. “No one’s told you, yet?”
“Don’t tease ‘em.” You hadn’t noticed how full the common room had gotten, not until Mammon spoke and you reflexively turned to face the sofa opposite to yours. He was standing, leaning against the back, his hands clasped in a way that’d put his anxiety on display far more transparently than his voice ever could. Beelzebub, too, his arms crossed over his chest as his attention shifted idly between you, the console in Leviathan’s hands, and the book splayed out in Satan's lap, his scowl serving as evidence of his annoyance. It always bothered you, how easily he grew frustrated by situations he chose to put himself in. It bothered you a little more, today. “Might as well spit it out, if you’re going to bring it up,” Mammon went on, shifting his weight, letting his eyes fall to the floor, then rise to the ceiling, then drift back to you. “There’s no point putting it off.”
“Weren’t you supposed to tell them, Mammon?” Beelzebub chimed in, absent-mindedly. If it'd been Satan, if it'd been Lucifer, it would’ve been pointed, malicious, purposeful. Beelzebub just sounded like he was trying to remind his older brother of something he’d forgotten. “You said you should be the one to do it, since you met them first. Then, when Lucifer said you wouldn’t be able to do it, you said that if the human threw a tantrum, you could just--”
“I didn’t say shit.” Mammon cut him off, his tone hostile, but it was a half-hearted anger, more petty than vengeful. “I said I could, not that I would, and Lucifer shot me down. If he hadn’t, there’d already be a deadbolt on every fucking door in the house. We wouldn’t be sitting around, talkin’ about it.”
“Every door?” Beelzebub looked confused. Then, he looked concerned. “I thought we agreed to just seal the exits.”
“I still think we should just use their bedroom,” Leviathan chimed in, never looking up from his hand-held. Something tightened in the back of your throat. Experimentally, you tried to pull yourself out of Belphegor’s arms, but he only held you tighter, and Asmodeus’ nails dug into your shoulder, rooting you back into place without a single word. “It’d be cool, kinda like a permanent save-point. We wouldn’t have to worry about baby-proofing the entire house, either.”
“We could use a leash,” Asmodeus suggested, never breaking his stare. He didn’t look away. You wished he would. You wished they’d, if nothing else, have the courtesy to wait until you’d left the room to start talking about things you didn’t know and didn’t want to know. “So we can make sure they’re always close by! Or, we could have Lucifer enchant a collar – having to hold a tether might get in way when I have to--”
“He’d never do it.” It was the first time Satan had cut in, but it was clear he’d been listening. His book was still open, his expression still concentrated, but he was tapping his foot, the disruption soundless against the thick carpeting, and you couldn’t remember the last time he thought to pretend to turn a page. He was listening, but he didn’t want to be. He was a part of this, but you doubted he’d every say as much out loud. You doubted he’d ever let himself admit he’d stooped to that level. “And if he did, we’d never hear the end of it. In a week, there’d probably be a new kennel in the catacombs, right next to Ceberus’.” He stopped, for a moment, shaking his head. For your own sake, your chose to believe the envy lingering behind his voice was his attempt at a bad joke. “You would prefer a bedroom, wouldn’t you, (Y/n)?”
He asked you a question. He was talking to you, now, directly, which was more than you could say for any of his brothers. It should’ve been an improvement. An opportunity, if nothing else, a chance to ask why Asmodeus was looking at you like that, why you could feel Belphegor’s careless smile pressing into your skin, but you hesitated, something catching in your chest. It felt too solid, too heavy, too rough and too jagged. It felt like it’d hurt to swallow down, later on, once the unease passed and you got over whatever scheme they’d planned out, while you were gone.
“I… What?” You weren’t sure what you wanted to say, but it came out as a question regardless, your reluctance blending messily with your confusion. “This isn’t funny. If you’re going to act like this every time I visit the Human World, I might have to stop coming back.”
Finally, Satan glanced up from his book. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve said he was smiling. “Right. Because you still think you're allowed to leave.”
The rest of the room fell silent. Or, maybe it didn’t, maybe it was louder than it'd ever been. You didn’t know. You couldn't hear anything, not over the sudden ringing in your ears. “I’ll have to, eventually. It’s not up to me.”
Beelzebub shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “It’d be safer if you stayed in the Devildom. We can’t protect you in the Human World.”
Leviathan’s grip tightened around his console. In the background, you could hear the plastic shell start to crack. “We wouldn’t be able to see you. Not all the time. Not for more than a few weeks at a time.” He was quiet, for a moment. Then, he added, “It wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t… It wouldn’t feel like it does when you’re here.”
Mammon looked away, letting his head lull to the side. “You belong here, with us. You’re supposed to be here. We’re just doin’ you a favor. No one wants to watch you figure out how fucked you’d be on your own.”
And, finally, Belphegor groaned, exhaustion heavy in the gravely sound. He untangled himself from you, but the freedom was temporary, fleeting, his arms snaking around your waist, instead, his face soon gracelessly buried in your chest. His eyes flickered open, but barely, just enough to let him stare up at you through his eyelashes, a thoughtless grin pulling at the corners of his lips. He wasn’t divided, not like his brothers were. He didn’t try to pretend he was above holding you against your will. “You're not leaving again.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even a threat. It was just a fact, to him. It was something that wouldn’t happen, that couldn’t happen, if only because his older brothers were willing to work so hard to make sure it didn’t. “We’re not gonna share you, anymore. We’re not gonna have to.”
You didn’t want to hear anything else. You didn’t want to be here, anymore, not if this was what it meant, not if it was going to feel like standing in front of that closed casket all over again, the urge to run and sob and scream silencing every reasonable thought you’d ever had. You didn’t bother trying to talk to Asmodeus and Belphegor, you didn’t bother trying to coo and edge and skirt around their anger, their unspoken threats, not anymore, not when your body was already standing on its own, shoving at Belphegor’s body and swatting at Asmodeus’ hand as he reached out, aiming to cup your cheek and tell you so gently to sit down and shut up. Beelzebub leaned forward, Mammon flinched, and you could’ve sworn you caught a row of long, pointed fangs flash across Satan’s sneer, but you didn’t care. You wanted to hit something. You wanted to yell. You’d wanted to ever since you came back to this damned house and its overly affectionate occupants.
“You don’t get to share me.” You couldn’t be shared. You weren’t theirs to share, even if they already seemed geared against the idea. You weren’t theirs to trap, either. You never would be. “I don’t need your protection, and you don’t need to see me, and the only place I’m supposed to be is the Human World. I don’t know what got into your fucked-up heads while I was gone, but you can’t just--”
“Sit down, (Y/n).”
You stopped mid-sentence.
Right. You’d almost forgotten Lucifer hadn't gotten a chance say his piece, yet.
He didn’t give you time to cooperate. There was already a fist curled around the back of your collar, dragging you back into your seat, the action so much more aggressive than Belphegor’s oppressive dead-weight or Amsodeus’ sweet, sickly temptation. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel Lucifer looming over you, standing tall, towering above his younger brothers as he took control of the room. You wondered if he’d been here the entire time, if he’d heard everything, rather than just your sudden outburst. You wondered if you should hope that he had.
“We missed you, while you were gone.” He didn’t sound mad. He didn’t sound mad, but none of them did, none of them sounded like they were plotting to keep you away from your home, your friends, the life you had outside of demons and angels and magic. None of them sounded dangerous, either, save for Lucifer. He’d always been easier to trust when he wasn’t pretending to be kind. “We’ve all been alive for centuries, and yet, you went and made a week feel like a small eternity. Do you know how difficult it is for a human to inflict that kind of suffering onto a demon?”
You didn’t answer. Across the room, Mammon laughed and Satan bristled. Belphegor melted back into your side, more than happy just to have his resting place scared into immobility.
“You’ll stay.” It was an order, this time. Not a suggestion, not a passing concern, but a command, something you would be expected to obey. He had the nerve to use that low, calm cadence, measured and pre-meditated. He didn’t want to let you convince yourself he was as prone to bluffing as his brothers were. “You’ll stay because we want you to. We’re willing to use force, but there’s no need for that. Is there, love?”
You nodded, your body tense and your eyes glassy, and Lucifer rewarded you with a breathy chuckle, a row of knuckles delicately pressed to your cheek. A miserable reward for such an unwilling sacrifice, but Lucifer didn’t seem to mind. It certainly didn’t stop him from leaning in, his lips brushing against the top of your head, his voice falling just low enough to make something sharp and cold shot down your spine, as he went on.
“It’s not like you have anything to go back to, anymore.”
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jenoismydad · 3 years
Note
hello, can i request nct dream reaction to s/o kissing their neck a lot? tysm 🧡
A/N: adding jisung but nothing sexual for his part okay :) reaction is under the read more
NCT DREAM’S REACTION TO YOU KISSING THEIR NECK
mark
he’s just playing his guitar
when you come up behind him and rest your head on his shoulder
he smiles to himself but doesn’t stop strumming
your arms wrap around his waist and start pressing light and warm kisses onto his shoulder
he doesn’t react to your actions and continues playing
eventually, your kisses start trailing up his neck
and soon enough your sucking small marks into it
he absentmindedly tilts his head to give you more access
the melodies he plays become simpler and quieter
which tells you that you he’s focusing on you now
when you halt your kisses, the music stops
he turns to look at you
so you use it as an opportunity to crash your lips onto his
he pulls away and stares at you knowingly
“you’re horny aren’t you?”
you don’t even need to answer him because he knows he’s correct
he smirks and places his guitar to the side, pulling you onto his lap instead so that he can give you what you want
renjun
he’s sound asleep, peacefully napping in the middle of the day
you’re bored and you have nothing to do
plus, you might just be craving his cock after the wonderful night you spent with him
so after minutes of contemplating, you peel the blanket off his body and straddle him, careful not to wake him up
staring at his face as he rests, you can’t deny how breathtakingly beautiful he looks
so you press a soft kiss to his temple
then to his cheek
next his jaw and after that, his neck
he’d marked you up pretty well last night so you figured the least you could do was return the favour
and hence you softly suck on his exposed skin, running your tongue over the faint bruises your created
it makes him stir in his sleep
that doesn’t matter to you though and you continue doing what you’re doing
finally, he wakes up, hands flying to grip your waist as he assess what’s going on
he sits up, bringing you with him and cups your jaw
“i guess last night wasn’t enough for you huh?”, he says in amusement
he then pushes you down on the bed, fingers hooking straight into your shorts which he peels off with ease
content to see that you’re not wearing anything else underneath, he shares one last look with you before diving in between your legs and making you scream
jeno
he’s playing video games
well he has been for the past 4 hours
and you’re having serious separation anxiety even though you’ve been in the same room as him for so long
he leans back, yawning tiredly while stretching his body
you take that as an opportunity to come up behind him and give him a hug
he smiles and pulls you onto his lap where you return to hugging him again
his game resumes, fingers aggressively clicking away at the keyboard
you kinda want him to stop playing and more attention to you
so you decide to distract him by kissing his neck
he doesn’t react and so you keep kissing him
eventually small pecks turn to wet open mouth kisses
before you know it, you’re sucking dark marks into his skin while your hips roll over his
his breaths start getting deeper so you know you’re having quite the affect on him
soon enough, he switches the computer off and pushes his chair back, unable to control himself any longer
“get on your knees”, he speaks, voice low and raspy
you don’t hesitate to confide, doing as he says without wasting a second
he stands up from the chair, freeing his cock from its restraints
“keep your mouth open and take me like a good girl.”
haechan
you both are cuddling in bed
you’re laying on top of him, face snuggled comfortable between his neck and shoulder
he’s telling to you about what happened when he’d gone to visit his family
but you stopped paying attention ages ago
his skin is warm against your lips and you can feel the faint beating of his heart
the sensation is transfixing
and you just can’t resist any longer
so you kiss his neck
he pauses
his fingers that were drumming on your back too come to a halt
“aren’t you gonna do it again?”, he asks
you push yourself up and look at him with a happy smile
“did you like it?”, you ask, leaning down to kiss his lips
just as your about to pull away, he cups your jaw, bringing your mouth back on his
“it was fine, but i prefer getting kissed here.”, he says, puckering his lips dramatically
the action makes you both burst out into a fit of laughter
pecking his lips one last time, you lay your head on his chest, smiling to yourself
jaemin
you asked him to help you organize your closet
so now he’s busy hanging up your coats and jackets
meanwhile your hugging him, humming random tunes into his neck and giving him a few kisses here and there
you might even have marked him up just a bit
he pays you no mind and continues about his task as if you aren’t clinging onto him
that is, until you softly sink your teeth into his skin
he freezes and looks down at you cautiously
“did you just bite me?”
instead of answering him, you stand up on your toes and kiss him, biting his bottom lip as you pull away
something just flips in him when you do that
letting go of the clothing hanger in his hand, he narrows his eyes and holds you close
“what are you up to?”, he asks, voice low and demanding
you don’t say anything, enjoying his demeanor more than you’d ever like to admit
“come on, say something. if you don’t i’ll just have to suck it out of you.”
the suggestiveness in his voice is exciting and so you decide not to give in
nothing needs to be said further and he picks you up, throwing you on the bed
he tugs his shirt off before hovering over you and leans down so that his lips ghost over your ear
“since you don’t feel like talking, i don’t want to hear a word from you. if you make a single noise, then i’m sure you’re smart enough to know what to expect.”
chenle
you both are playing a game where you kiss each other somewhere and the person who reacts first is the loser
the penalty is that the loser gets a hickey from the winner
for your turn, you decide that you’ll attack his neck
cause you know he’s the most ticklish and sensitive there
you also know the exact spot where he’s the most sensitive
using this knowledge to your advantage, you press a long kiss on his skin
his hands ball into fists on either side of him and you know he’s trying hard not to give in
but the way you’re kissing his neck is so tantalizing and he can’t help but let out a shaky breath
you draw back and point at him, beaming excitedly
you’d won the game
he groans defeatedly and falls to the ground
“now sir, where would you like to be marked.”, you ask giddly, dancing about
he tugs his shirt down and looks at you with a smirk
“here please.”, he says pointing to his collar bone
you return his smirk and sit down next to him, licking your lips as you prepare to deliver your token of victory
“scandalous, i like it.”, you giggle, leaning down and sucking a dark bruise on his skin
let’s just say that he didn’t mind returning the favour
jisung
while you’re busy finishing your homework, he’s laying on your bed with his nose stuffed in the game he’s playing on his phone
once you feel like you’ve done enough for the day, you come and sit down next to him
he’s still very much occupied in the game so he pays you no mind
you decide to be cheeky and lay down next to him, cuddling into his side
he doesn’t react to your proximity and so, you snuggle your face into his neck
he freezes for a moment, but once he gets accustomed to the ticklish feeling of your breath on his skin, he resumes his game
that’s when you stick your tongue out and subtly lick his neck
the action makes him jolt and he looks down at you with wide eyes
you only smile at him and reach up to quickly kiss his lips
which makes him go red in the face because you caught him off guard
he gets back to his game and you start dotting kissing on the space of his neck
he keeps flinching because it tickles but he doesn’t complain
he actually likes it very much and would like for you to continue
eventually, you get tired of his unresponsiveness
so you begin peppering kissing on his jaw, his cheeks and his nose
soon enough, your straddling him, staring into his eyes with a knowing grin
he tosses his phone to the side and cups your cheek, pulling your lips down on his and simply kisses you for hours on end
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harrysgoldenline · 3 years
Text
When In Italy Part 3
Part 1 | Part 2
He remembered your order.
It was all you could think about after you sat down, a waitress coming quickly to your table and he gave you a look, asking you if that’s what you wanted. You gave a small nod and you refrained from commenting on it, not wanting to stroke his already enlarged ego you are sure has only gotten big since you have seen him last based on… well everything.
The waitress thanked you both, taking your menus and leaving the two of you alone, giving one another an awkward smile before you looked down at your hands, now regretting pretending to not know what to order in order to hide behind your menu a bit more.
“So…” Harry began, fingers drumming onto the table, “how have you been?”
You let out an airy laugh, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow before leaning back in the woven dining chair, warm Italian sun hitting your face as you looked out at the view and back to him, not even sure what to say. You, obviously, were not doing great and he was.
You open your mouth to start to answer but stop when the waitress comes back, placing the cool, water glasses in front of you and they quickly become interesting as you watch the condensation drop down from the glass onto the table.
“Y/n…” Harry began, looking up at you and sighing when your eyes met, “Can you talk to me? I just want to see what you’ve been up to.”
“What about you?” You counter, heart pounding against your chest, “I feel like you’re the one who needs to check in and share some updates more than anyone else, don’t you think?”
“I guess I deserve that.” He chuckled, taking a sip of water and looking at you over the glass causing you to scoff.
“I’m glad you think it’s funny.” you glare, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to calm your pounding heart, “really makes the whole situation better.”
“Okay, you’re right, I’m sorry,” He nodded, holding his hands up in defense, “but I didn’t know you were going to be there, I would have never brought her if I would have known that, obviously and I’m sorry it happened this way but I’m glad I saw you, I’m glad to see you.”
“Who is she?”
He looked surprised by your question, not expecting you to rip the band-aid off in the way that you did. But, you knew him. Better than anyone you’ve ever known in your life and you couldn’t understand why he was beating around the bush like this so much. You also needed this for yourself, not wanting to fall for his famous charm, looking into those beautiful, jade eyes you knew you would be done for.
It’s the reason your sitting across from at this table at all, not being able to resist his smile, his sot, caring voice as he asked you to see him, having no idea what you would be getting into all, you said yes without any hesitation and you decided in that moment, watching as he went around the clear high priority topic with ease.
“Her name is Olivia.” He sighed, “she’s the director of the movie I’m going to be in and…”
“You’re together?”
He didn’t answer, looking at his hands.
You nodded, taking his silence as the clear answer and you bit your bottom lip hard, tasting blood as your teeth sunk into the flesh, hoping the pain would stop the tears that were stinging your eyes. You could feel your hands shake and you let out a sigh, standing up from the table and running your hands over your skirt, frustrated he didn’t even have the nerve to come out and simply say it.
“I-I’m going to go,” You began to ramble, looking down at the water glass and you dug through your bag, looking for money to pay for your meal and tip the waitress, even though it wasn’t yet served to you, eyes burning as you did your best to keep in your tears.
“Please stay.” He whispered and you shook your head rapidly, pulling out your wallet and looking for a big enough bill, “Okay, let me just drive you back, put your wallet away this is on me.I asked you to come.” He added, pulling out his wallet and laying down a more than generous amount.
“No, please.” You whispered, stepping back as you stepped closer to you, “just, stay. Take my food with you. I’m gonna book a flight home and you guys can have the house to yourselves by tomorrow night.”
“Y/n-”
“Goodbye, Harry.”
You ignored his calls of your name, walking down the pavestone as you made your way through the quaint town, passing the many boutiques and gelato shops you two went through a dozen times.You also did your best to ignore the longing look of pity as you passed by the strangers, thankful your italian wasn’t as good as his, that way you didn’t have to also hear what they were saying about you.
You wandered your way through the beautiful village, wishing it brought you the same amount of joy as it always did, but not it just left you a bitter taste in your mouth, reaching for your phone and calling for a cab, looking up flights the second the car pulled up.
***
Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of your alarm, heart wrenching at the realization that all of this was real and you fist rubbed your swollen eyes, sniffling as you sat up and the details all came back to you.
“He found someone else already.” you had sobbed into the phone to your best friend, clutching at your chest as your back was against the front door. “He already moved on, y/bff/n and he brought her here and-and… I-I got a flight home and I just don’t know what to do.”
You were beginning to hyperventilate, mind being unable to wrap around the fact that he had moved on so quickly, the man you thought you were going to marry, being together for years, had already moved on to someone else.
Your best friend had done her best to calm you, begging you to let them fly there to help get your things together, to at least meet you at a connecting flight so you weren’t flying home completely alone, but you didn’t allow it, knowing how much trouble they would get into with their boss.
“I’ll be there to pick you up.” they told you, after a long pause, their heart was breaking at the sound of your cries, “You’re gonna make it through this, y/n. I know you are.”
You weakly stumbled out of bed, walking straight to the closet and, once again, pulling your bags out and throwing them onto the bed, throwing your all clothes into a messy pile and zipping up the bag, pushing it into the hallway after quickly changed into a clean outfit, slipping on a pair of sneakers as you got ready for your flight home.
Forcing yourself to brush your teeth and run a comb through your hair was harder than you had ever imagined, hating to have to look at your reflection as the face of her was being compared side by side in your mind. You hated yourself more for wishing that Harry tried a little harder, wishing that he had ran after you and tried to at least explain more, extend the olive branch so to speak, even though it would never fully heal your wounds.
Your anxious mind wouldn’t stop reliving your morning with Harry and you couldn’t help but have regrets, wondering if you overreacted, wondering what would have happened if you stayed for the rest of the meal.
Could you ever be friends?
Pushing yourself away from the counter you hoped that the thoughts would subside, wishing you knew the answers but knowing you never would. You shuffled your way into the living room, curling up on the couch as you waited for the car to come pick you up and take you to the airport, not having the energy to reach to pick up the remote so you sat in silence.
Although it felt like minutes, an hour soon passed and you heard the knock at the door and you forced yourself up, grabbing your suitcase and wheeling it behind you as you opened the door, being greeted by the driver who took your suitcase from you and loaded it into the car as you followed behind, finding your place in the backseat.
The time went faster than you thought it would, the drive to the airports, the security line, flights, layovers, all of it. The next thing you knew you were walking down the steps of the airport, seeing the face of your best friend and running towards them, dropping your suitcase in the process as they quickly took you in their arms, holding you as tight as they could.
“I got you.” They whispered, rubbing your back as your tears sunk into the fabric of the fabric covering their shoulder, “I’m so, so sorry, sweetheart. You’re gonna be okay, I promise.”
“How do you know?” you horsley whispered, “my heart hurts so much.”
“I know, I know.” They whispered back, pulling back and looking you into the eyes, giving you a smile and wiping away your tears, “It’s going to be okay, I promise. You are an incredible human being, y/n, you are so unbelievably strong andI know that you can do this and I’m going to be there for you every single step of the way, okay?. ”
And they were.
Being there for you every single step of the way for the next two weeks since you got back from your trip and even moved into your apartment with you for a few days at first as you adjusted. Holding you every single time that you cried, always checking in and making sure that you were taking care of yourself and always being there for you to talk about everything, even though you weren’t quite ready yet, they were there for you when you were going to be and you couldn’t have been more thankful for that.
Now, after a couple weeks of healing, after your plummet on your journey of healing post break up, you felt like you were back on your way up. You started leaving your apartment more again and y/bff/n even got you to go out with them and a couple of friends one night.
Actually starting to feel better and even starting to feel a lot more like yourself.
Your phone buzzed and you quickly took a look down at it, seeing a text from y/bff/n
Be there soon! i can't wait to try out this new coffee place!
You smiled and sent back your quick reply, letting her know you were going to head downstairs touching up your makeup quickly as you looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled back at your reflection, seeing the glow and fullness starting to come back to your face, the circles under your eyes slowly disappearing more and more everyday.
Grabbing your purse off the kitchen counter and sliding on your shoes you got ready to leave your apartment, heading out the door and locking the door behind you, jiggling the handle to endure it was locked before turning on your heel to head out. You go to reach for the elevator button, but it dings as it announces its arrival and you step out of the way, allowing whatever neighbor to have a clear path to their apartment. Instead, you're met with a pair of familiar green eyes.
“Harry?”
---------------------------------------------------------------------
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writingpracticetime · 3 years
Text
Interactions with other villains
From the notes of Mitchell Newman:
Let me set the scene.
First, the Discreet Entrepreneur’s Network, or the DEN as it is appropriately titled, is a loosely organized guild of sorts for villains to meet and exchange illegal goods and services. It’s members are vicious, super-powered criminals of all stripes--master thieves, serial killers, unethical scientists, the whole spectrum. They’re dangerous, violent, and not at all kind to non-members, or even new members.
Second, we have Constructor. A famous hero and  goody two shoes who only ended up in prison for protesting a mass eviction. More to the point, an (admittedly, not self described) pacifist who at the time was famously bad at combat.
The DEN should have torn Constructor to pieces, and this whole problem should have ended there. Instead our goody two shoes swipes dozens of members and eventually breaks the whole network into pieces.
How?
---
You have always been bad at public speaking.
You don’t stammer.  But seeing lots of eyes on you makes you freeze and all of the words you planned slip away. It doesn’t help that at least half of the people in this room are murderers, but they would have the same effect if they were third graders.
You wish Sandy was here again. She was always good at coaching you through these things. The only reason you ever made it through interviews or press talks was because of her prep work.
"The pipeline," you try again.
The Organizer quirks an eyebrow at you. For a second he looks to his assistant, a pale woman whose eyes are fixed on, and then he motions at you. "Go on."
"the pipeline they're building," you try again. "Its damaging to the environment. The people don’t want it there. And it’s. Illegal."
The crowd actually bursts into laughter.  You’re too used to talking to politicians.
---
Afterwards, Bonfire nods sympathetically at your grimace on your way out.
“There’s a reason I’m not a member,” she tells you.
“Did you hear? Did I…?”
Did I do good? It’s the sort of approval you used to seek from Sandy. You stop yourself, because you already know the answer regardless. Not a single person in that room approached you to join your next operation.
“There’s still the two of us,” Bonfire shrugs. “Best not to work with too many, anyway. That’s how snitches worm their way in.”
“Yes but…”
“Wait!”
A reedy voice calls after you. You don’t recognize the stick figure man who darts after you, eyes darting.
“Wait, okay okay okay okay,” he says, quickly. “Constructor. I’m--Cyberscout. I, your pitch, I mean--”
You wait. You hear a flare of irritation at your shoulder.
“Okay, your pitch sucked,” Cyberscout says. “Didn’t you used to go on TV? Man. N-not to down you or anything, what I mean to say is, just… I can help you with that. Not with your speaking skills, but getting the word out other ways, and doing some information gathering for you. So I’ll sign on. Pay back the favor.”
“Favor?”
“Yeah, uh. You jailbroke me,” he says. “I don’t work for nothing, normally I’d ask for a favor or cash but… since you already did me a solid… just this once.”
You hold out your hand, and like that you make your second ally.
---
Your second venture into the DEN goes better. You practice with Bonfire and Cyber ahead of time, so your voice is stronger. When you enter the latest venue, you nod at the Organizer and the silent pale woman next to him, taking a deep breath and refusing to feel intimidated.
Again, you  describe what you’re opposing as wrong. Again, you talk about the people’s wishes. Again, you call it illegal, and again there is snickering, but instead of falling silent your voice booms.
“Are you going to pretend you all don’t care?” you ask, and you hear yourself echo from the back of the hall. “How many of you have been thrown into solitary Akonite cells for store robbery, for having? How many of you got beaten by guards? Now CEOs are lining their pockets with medications they got from experimenting on prisoners just like you have been, and they go completely free. This is illegal, against the public good, all of the things they say about your own actions--and yet the men doing this go free.”
Dead silence.
“If the hypocrisy doesn’t make you furious,” you say. “That’s because you have no fight left in you.”
---
When you leave the conference, you know Bonfire heard because she’s smirking.
“Better?”
“Better,” she agrees. “Still no takers?”
“They’re probably worried about losing face,” Cyberscout says. “I mean, I was. But after a talk like that, just wait. They’ll trickle in.”
And they do. Days after, a greying old woman approaches you. She seems hesitant to meet your eyes or speak at first but when she does his tone is cold, brusque, and to the point.
“You may have heard of me, you may not have,” she says. “But to the point, I know a few things about unethical experiments, how they are run...and how to help the subj--victims. If you are willing to look past my past indiscretions, I can be an asset.”
“I care more about what you’re willing to do now than anything you’ve done in the past,” you tell her.
She holds out her hand stiffly.
“Call me Asag,” she says. “Dr. Asag.”
---
At your third DEN meeting, the Organizer’s lips thin as he sees you. He once again exchanges whispers with his assistant before glowering at you. You brush him off, and stand to explain your next venture.
“One more thing,” you say. “Before anyone here thinks of joining, this is going to be a no-kill operation.”
“What?” booms a hulking figure in the back. “Are you fucking serious?”
“No interrupting,” the Organizer drones, but you speak up.
“Wait,” you say. “Let him talk.”
The man steps forward, and you have an instant flash of recognition. It would be impossible not to recognize him, actually. You don’t think you've met anyone else that big.
“You don’t know shit about what it’s really like out there!” the giant says. “You really expect anyone to go out and not defend themselves?”
“I didn’t say you can’t defend yourselves,” you explain. “I said you can’t kill anyone.”
“You can’t get shit done if you’re not willing to kill,” the man says, darkly.
“Really. And how has that worked for you? Wait--” you make a show of trying to remember him. “Oh wait, I know. It got you in prison. Where I broke you out, without killing anyone.”
There is actually some laughter. In your favor this time. It makes you grin.
“Hobbes, right?” you ask. “It’s possible to fight and neutralize someone without killing them, and it’s usually better that way because then the feds can’t justify using as much force against you.”
“Then I’d like to see you try to neutralize a real super,” Hobbes spits.
“Alright,” you say. “Come at me then, and I’ll show you.”
“Absolutely not!” the Organizer shouts. “There will be no fights during conventions!”’
You don’t even spare him a glance. “Outside, then”
The Organizer hisses at the entire crowd follows you both, eager to see blood. “This isn’t--the rules--”
After a fight that admittedly takes a lot more out of you than your previous efforts neutralizing low ranking heroes, Hobbes grumpily becomes your next ally.
---
More and more come to you. Some asking for monetary compensation, some asking for prison breaks in the future, and some who seem to be as drawn to your ideals as you are, deep down.
With each venture, the Organizer seems less and less happy to have you appear, until one day when you are about to come to another gathering you find yourself barred.
“You’ve broken enough rules,” the Organizer says, darkly. “You aren’t welcome in the DEN anymore.”
“What rules?” you ask.
There are a few, of course. Some minor things here and there, but nothing that got anyone else banned. He tells you, and you are about to object but someone else cuts in first.
“You’ve been cutting into his profits.”
It’s the pale assistant. Her voice is weak and thready, like she can barely speak up.
“What are you talking about?” the Organizer sneers. “I never--”
“He’s been working with some of those corporations you’ve been undercutting with your, um, stuff,” she says, her voice getting higher. “B-both sides. Always got to work both sides, he thinks. Get some villains to help, sell out the others.”
Other people inside are listening, murmuring. The gathering of villains are getting agitated--clearly, this is news to all of them, as well.
“Please,” the assistant says. “I have proof. I’m a--I read minds. I can tell you everything, just get me away safely and I’ll--”
He turns on her and attacks, hands around her throat. You don’t even have to think about it. You slam concrete into the Organizer’s face, and all hell breaks loose. Someone grapples you--and then Hobbes wrings them off you. Bonfire, always drifting at the edge of the event, darts in and jerks the coughing assistant out of the fray. And with that, your last venture at the DEN becomes an all out brawl.
You decide it’s still better than public speaking.
---
---
MN: So, real talk for a moment. How did you do it? Money? Threats? Brainwashing? I know there were a few mind control types in your group.
#4598: Hm?
MN: How does a hero go to a bunch of violent crooks and end up leading them?
#4598: The only way you can. With their consent.
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To Die For (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)
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Hello! It is with great joy and a little bit of sadness that I present you all with the final part of “Love Goes”. This part in particular is inspired by Sam Smith’s “To Die For”. Pieces from Endgame are used but very little. 
Summary: The aftermath of Endgame, how will Wanda navigate and what will happen to Y/n. 
“I long for you, just a touch of your hand. You don't leave my mind. Lonely days I'm feeling like a fool for dreaming… Sunshine living on a perfect day while my world's crashing down.”
Hope. That was all Wanda had left. She knew that she couldn’t let it waver for even a moment. Allowing the hope within her to waver would be the same as accepting defeat. Accepting that you weren’t coming back. That was something she would never allow herself to believe. 
Like you told her, you and her were a happy ending. It’s the only ending she could ever envision for herself. The only life she wanted. The only life she’d accept. You and her. Together. Happily.
It had only been a week since the fateful battle and you had been transferred to a S.W.O.R.D. facility since. What worried Wanda most was that you still hadn’t woken up and hadn’t shown much progression since arriving. 
She could still feel you though. 
Wanda would allow herself glimpses into your mind and could see the vibrancy that still existed within. Your heart was still beating, and your mind was still your own. Even if you weren’t awake, you were still you.
The thought brought comfort to Wanda despite the circumstances. It kept hope alive in her heart.
It was only a matter of time until you were awake and in her arms again. At least that’s what she kept telling herself. 
The situation could have been worse though and she knew that. Shortly after you were transferred to the facility she learned the full details of how exactly Thanos was defeated. How Tony and Natasha had given their lives in exchange for the outcome. As much as the news saddened her, she couldn’t help but feel a selfish sense of relief that you hadn’t been dealt the same fate. 
Her life – her heart - felt as though it was hanging in the balance. You were all she had. All she wanted. If she lost you she knew there would be no recovery for her. She’d drown. Sink to the bottom with no chance of resurfacing if you weren’t there to pull her back up. 
The warmth of your hand in her own anchored her. It always did, but not as much as being in your arms, or hearing your voice. “I’m drowning.” She whispered against your hand. “I’m drowning, Y/n. I need to hear your voice, see you open your eyes, and have you hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay. I’m drowning, and you can’t save me until you wake up.” Her lips trembled slightly against your hand as a single tear fell down her cheek.
The days and nights had blurred together for her. Both of which were spent unwaveringly at your side. The only disruptions often came in the form of varying people in the facility checking your vitals or injecting new medications into your IV that they informed her should wake you up soon. 
Besides the worry and fear she constantly felt, there was a sense of bitterness that the only one who had come to see you or her during your time in the facility was Fury. That was only when you were still at S.H.I.E.L.D’s location. It was upsetting to her that Steve had yet to visit you considering the history you two shared and how close you two had always been. Considering how you had been willing to risk your life for him on multiple occasions. 
Today was Tony’s funeral and she was reluctantly leaving your side to pay her respects for a short while. Also, to give Rogers a piece of her mind.
When the funeral concluded she wandered over to the lake to collect her thoughts and emotions. Taking in the beautiful day around her, a stark contrast to how she felt internally. The perfect day felt wrong when it still felt like her world was crashing down within her. 
As she was staring out the lake, preparing herself for what she wanted to tell Steve, Clint walked up to her. “Hey, kid.” 
Wanda kept a neutral face and merely nodded at him. “Hello.”
There was hesitation in the way Clint stopped at her side. “You have every right to not want to talk to me right now.” He began seriously, his head ducked shamefully. “I wanted to go visit Y/n… Check on you. I did. I just-… It’s been hard accepting that Nat’s gone, you know? It’s not an excuse for not being there. It’s just where my head was. I’m sorry, Wanda.” 
As much as Wanda wanted to ignore him, she knew she couldn’t. “I understand.” She replied softly, her gaze still on the lake before her. 
“I wish there was a way that I could let her know that we won. That we did it.” Clint admitted quietly to her.
Wanda shifted her gaze to him. “She knows.” There was a small pause. “They both do.” Despite not being awake, she liked to believe that you knew.
Clint wrapped a comforting arm around her and she leaned into the embrace. 
“Wanda.” A somber voice caught her attention as she turned to find Steve standing there with his hands folded behind his back. “A word?”
Clearly not wanting to be caught in the crossfire, Clint stepped back. “I think that’s my cue to go.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Wanda’s head. “I’ll do better, okay? Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be by to visit Y/n soon.” Wanda nodded slightly at his words as he walked away. 
When Clint was out of the vicinity, Steve stepped into his place. Wanda’s jaw clenched. She was more upset at him than anyone. She knew if roles were reversed you would have been uncompromisingly by his side.
“What do you want?” She asked, her tone cold.
Steve’s face remained neutral despite her tone. “How is she?”
A bitter laugh escaped her lips at his question. “How is she?” she shook her head in disbelief. “You have a lot of nerve asking that when you’ve had a whole week to go see for yourself.”
A heavy sigh escaped his lips. “Look, Wanda, I understand you’re upset with me but I-“
Wanda rounded on him, her eyes livid. “Upset? I am far passed upset, Rogers. I’m furious. Y/n needed you and you abandon her. She would have done anything for you! She idolized you!”
Each of Wanda’s words impacted Steve, she could see that, but she didn’t stop. He took it. “She thought you were her family and you couldn’t even be bothered to go see for yourself if she’s okay! You don’t even care-“
“Enough! That’s not true!” Steve roared. The accusation that he didn’t care seemingly being the final straw. Wanda recoiled in surprise. “I feel guilty, okay? I feel like the only reason that she’s in there in the first place is because of me. I couldn’t face her. I didn’t deserve to.” His volume didn’t lower as the emotions he was holding in finally boiled over. 
“You know she wouldn’t have blamed you.” Wanda eventually replied, her tone still clipped.
Steve rubbed a hand down his face. “I know, but I do. I blame myself. She was trying to protect me, and she only felt like she had to protect me because I couldn’t stop him the first time. She got hurt because I couldn’t get to her fast enough. She’s my family too.” 
As much as she wanted to be angry with him, she found it much more difficult when she learned of the guilt that seemed to be weighing heavily on him. “You know Y/n would have done that either way.” She confessed quietly. “She would have tried to stop him regardless of who she was defending. That’s who she is.”
A weak nod was his only response. Wanda wasn’t sure if he believed her. “How has she been?” Steve repeated, hoping for a genuine answer this time.
“She still hasn’t woken up.” Wanda began unsteadily. “They keep injecting her with new serums everyday saying that each one will wake her up, but it never does.”
Steve closed his eyes at the information, his expression distressed for just a moment until he schooled his features and put on a brave face for Wanda. “She’s going to wake up. I know she will.” 
Hearing the words she had been telling herself from someone else brought Wanda a small sense of comfort. “I know she will too.” She turned to him. “I’m going to get back to her now, she needs me. Go see her.” 
“I will.” He nodded firmly, his words definitive. “I have to return the stones in an hour and try and see if I can undo something. As soon as I do that I’ll be immovably by her side. I’ll stay with you until she wakes up. You have my word. She has my word.” There was purpose in his voice. 
Wanda quirked her lips up slightly at him and nodded without a word. She knew he meant what he said. She walked off to her car to begin the drive back to S.W.O.R.D’s medical branch of the facility. ___________________ Her heart dropped when she entered your room, only to be met with an empty bed. On numb legs, she ran out and stopped the first worker she saw. “Y/n Y/ln. Where is she? She was here just an hour ago.” 
The employee looked around nervously. “She’s been moved. I believe it would be in your best interest to speak to the director.”
Wanda’s brow furrowed in confusion. “The director? Why?”
“His office is located on the second floor, third door on the left.” The employee informed her meekly before scurrying away. 
Practically running, Wanda reached the office in minutes, throwing the door open. “Ms. Maximoff.” The man who she presumed to be the director greeted her, an unnerving smile on his face.
“Where is she?” Wanda demanded, not caring about anything other than being reunited with you. “Is-is she okay?” Anxiety began to build within her and press against her chest making it harder for her to breath. Her nails dug into her palms.
The man gestured for her to sit in an empty chair, she ignored the request. “My name is Tyler Hayward. I am the director of S.W.O.R.D.”
Wanda merely stared blankly back at him, her jaw clenched tightly. “Where. Is. Y/n?” She enunciated sharply, her patience fading. 
The unnerving smile never faltered on Hayward’s face. “That is the unfortunate part, Ms. Maximoff. You see, while you were gone Ms. Y/ln suffered from some brain hemorrhaging. We were able to stop it, but it seems her brain has suffered an extensive amount of damage. We ran some tests and it appears she has lost all cognitive function. She is just a shell now. She only has another day or two at best. I’m sorry.”
Wanda’s world stopped at his words. She immediately shook her head. “That’s not true.” She said shakily as tears began streaming down her cheeks, the weight on her chest getting heavier, forcing her under. She couldn’t breathe. “That’s not true. Let me see her.” 
Hayward gestured forward to the large window in his office. “They’re running some tests on her now, but so far the data has remained conclusive. There is no longer brain function.” Numbly Wanda walked up to the large window and glanced down, feeling the life drain from her at the sight of you. Pale and on what looked like an experimentation table, surrounded by several S.W.O.R.D. scientists.  “I’m afraid it’s time to start talking about letting her go.”
Wanda spun around to face him angrily. “Let her go?” she cried, her voice cracking. “She’s all I have.”
Hayward held his hands up slightly. “It’s only a matter of days before she’s unable to breathe on her own and her heart stops being.”
Empty. That’s what she felt at his words. She wanted to scream. Her powers reacted to the emotion she was feeling before her mind did as the glass she was leaning on shattered. Without hesitation she floated down to where you were. Her heart hammering in her chest the closer she got. 
The world around her went dark and the only sight she was able to take in was the way your chest weakly rose and fell with each breath. With shaking hands, she raised them to your temple as feeble wisps of red floated from her fingertips and disappeared into your mind. 
All she saw was darkness. 
“I can’t feel you.” She whispered brokenly, the pain in her chest overcoming her. The sensation composing her entire being as everything within her collapsed. She was alone, and she knew she wouldn’t recover. Then everything went dark around her. ________________________________
“Darling, have you seen my notebook? I’m running late for my meeting with my editor and I can’t seem to find it anywhere.” You questioned hastily as you rushed into the kitchen and skidded to a halt in the entry way. Looking around the area with a frazzled expression on your face.
Wanda looked over from her place by the stove and waved her hand, the notebook floating from under your arm to directly in front of your face. “You mean this one, dear?” She asked with an amused smile. 
Sheepishly you plucked the notebook out of the air as you made your way over to her. “What would I do without you?” You leaned forward so your lips rested gently against her own.
“Mmm,” Wanda mumbled with a smile as she spoke against your lips. Her arms resting comfortably over your shoulders. “I believe your mind would fail you, sweetheart.”
Your hands fell to her waist as you pulled her closer. “That’s for certain.” You replied easily with a loving smile. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”
A small blush spread over her cheeks. “You have not but thank you. You look beautiful as well, darling. I’m beginning to get jealous that your editor gets to spend the day in your presence. Speaking of…” she trailed off and glanced pointedly at the clock.
“My meeting!” Your eyes widened as you pressed one last loving kiss to her lips. “I’ll be going now. I love you, darling. I’ll be home soon!” You shouted as you began running out. 
Wanda shook her head at you, the smile on her face never faltering. “I love you, too, dear!” She called after you, pretending to catch the kiss you blew to her as you rushed out the door. She sighed happily and leaned against the wall of the kitchen. 
The end.
 . . . . . .
“Glad you were able to make it, Rogers.” Fury said seriously as he shook Steve’s hand. “And Ms. Romanoff. Welcome back.” He shook her hand as well. 
Steve nodded easily in response. “Of course. You know that I’d be here in a heartbeat for Y/n. Wanda as well.” Both followed Fury into a large make-shift tent located in the woods. 
“What exactly are we dealing with?” Natasha asked, confusion lacing her words.
For a moment Fury seemed to ponder her question. “We’re not entirely sure.”
“Does Wanda even know that she saved Y/n? That she was never gone?” Steve questioned seriously, his arms crossed as he stared at the screen before him. 
Fury shook his head. “No. It seems Hayward convinced Wanda that Y/n was gone, no brain function. What Wanda didn’t know was he had gone rogue. Every serum they injected in Y/n kept her in her comatose state rather than attempt to wake her up like they were telling Wanda. I’ve looked at the files that my inside contacts gave me, and it seems Y/n should have been up in the first day or two to recover from minor brain swelling.”
“Why are they doing this though?” Natasha questioned as she looked over the chart. Steve’s jaw was clenched as he listened to each detail.
Taking the chart from Natasha, Fury turned the pages until he found what he was looking for and handed it back to Natasha. “Right there. It seems that Y/n carries a rare mutant gene that they could extract and essentially build an army with. They believed that if they removed Wanda from the picture they could continue the experiments and eventually wipe Y/n’s memory to use her as a weapon. Turn her into a super solider… but much worse because of her powers.” There was an edge to his tone. “They are very interested in her ability to manipulate earth and metal. They had considered Wanda briefly as well, but the perfect opportunity presented itself with Y/n. That’s why they insisted on her transfer to their facility.” 
“How do we get them back before Hayward gets to them?” Steve questioned quietly, a dangerous tone to his voice.
Instead of answering Fury gestured to the woman who had been sitting and listening to the conversation. “Wanda isn’t letting anyone with ties to your past in. Fury already tried. She won’t let you or Natasha in.” They both stared at her. “I didn’t introduce myself. Sorry, my name is Darcy Lewis. Astrophysics. Big fan.” The bespectacled woman rambled. 
Natasha smirked, an amused glint in her eye. “Okay, Darcy Lewis, what’s our next step?”
“We’ll do whatever it takes.” Steve finished powerfully as they all watched you and Wanda share a sweet kiss before the credits began to roll on the screen before them.
Well, that’s all folks! 13 parts completed! It’s been a journey writing this and it is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written. This story has become my baby and it always brings me so much joy to read your comments and seeing others enjoy it. I had a plan for this chapter since the moment I began writing this story but it was so hard when it came down to writing because of the most recent episode of Wandavision, so I tweaked it a little. Was it a sadder or happier ending? You may never know. Thank you all so much for taking this journey with me. I hope you enjoyed. 
As always, thoughts and comments always welcome. :)
p.s. I brought back Steve and Nat but I couldn’t figure out how to make Tony surviving make sense or fit the story, sorry. Still love Tony. 
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ptergwen · 3 years
Text
from one kid to another
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w/c: 6.0k
warnings: mentions of drinking, lots of swearing, implied smut, and angst at times
summary: it was a mistake, a beautiful one that you didn’t make on your own
a/n: this genuinely is my favorite thing i’ve ever written :,) i say that a lot but this time i mean it, it’s really special i think and i so so so hope y’all do too <3 enjoy my loves
-
there’s only one thing in life that testing positive for is actually positive.
depending on the situation, obviously. yours isn’t ideal, or planned or a blessing or whatever people say. it’s a gigantic mistake that you didn’t realize you made until a minute ago.
you’d noticed something was wrong when your time of the month came and all you experienced was the symptoms. cramps, cravings, everything except your actual period. as everyone is pretty much taught to do, you ran to the closest drug store for a pregnancy test. what the hell else could it be? you messed around a few weeks ago, so there’s a possibility.
your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest the whole time you waited for the results. you’d thought of calling tom over for support, but there are a couple of reasons why you couldn’t do that. you realized you made the right decision when your timer for the test went off.
two red lines. you’re pregnant. you’re pregnant, and your best fucking friend is the father.
where do you go from here?
the test falls from your hand and hits the floor with a mocking clank. you slide down until your back is against the bathtub. well, you’re fucked. what an ironic word choice.
the fact that you aren’t ready in the slightest to be a parent when you’re still growing up yourself is one thing. it’s another that this could ruin the most important relationship you’ve ever had.
no, tom won’t be mad. he’s never once fought with or even raised his voice at you. in your times of need, he’s been the one to uplift you and kiss your puffy cheeks dry. no matter how he takes this, you know it won’t be out on you. he is half responsible.
but, with how you left things the last time you spoke, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get past it.
tom is alarmingly good at hiding how he truly feels. you always tease him that it’s because he’s a gemini. he’ll come back with shut up, i’m an actor and stick his nose in the air to give you the full image. in all seriousness, it does take a toll on how well he can communicate.
you’ve seen it in small ways, like when he brings you along for press days and uses unenthusiastic smiles to cover up his yawns. how he’ll be polite in a conversation with people he’d rather not speak to, then mumble about it once you’re home. he tries to put forward the “appealing” parts of himself even though he’s more than them.
tom’s biggest communication issue is that he’s been in love with you since year nine and hasn’t said a word about it. you’ve yet to figure that one out.
you two became friends while tom was starring in billy elliot. his schedule was so scattered between shows and school, so he struggled to balance both. he often had to stay late for extra help on the lessons. you’d also been there a few times. you worked better in the classroom, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be alone with the teacher.
most kids made fun of tom for his interest in theater, to his face and behind his back. not you. you thought it was just incredible that someone in your own classes worked at the west end. you’d told him on your way home one night.
he’d heard you before he saw you. “you’re tom, right?” you asked from behind him, the two of you making your way through the hall. the question sounded friendly, and it wasn’t every day kids were nice to him. tom stopped walking so you could catch up. “yes, and you are?” you gave him a small smile, books clutched to your chest. he instantly returned it.
“y/n. i heard you’re in billy elliot?” you laughed at your understatement, then corrected yourself. “that you are billy elliot, i mean. that’s so cool.” “oh, i am. thank you,” he chuckled back, a full grin taking over his face. you were both walking again, you by tom’s side. “i was hoping to come see you soon.” your voice got quieter as you told him, like you were nervous.
tom never had much luck with girls, not at this point in his life. this was an opportunity to change that. at the very least, to make a new friend. he offered something you said yes to without a beat of hesitation. “what if i got you the tickets?”
from then on, you began talking during class and not only when it ended. tom really knew how to keep the conversation going, telling story after story that left you laughing so much your teacher would shush you. you’d eventually moved to hangouts at either of your houses. harrison came into the mix at some point, the three of you forming your own group.
the difference between tom and harrison was that while harrison linked with other girls, tom was only interested in you. he’d gotten a crush on you pretty fast, if he was being honest. it might have been your shared sense of humor or the way you said his name.
thomas, when he was being cheeky. tommy, which took the place of a pet name. even regular tom. that might have been his favorite. he loved how it rolled off your tongue. he loved, and still loves, you.
you’d gone to all of tom’s performances you possibly could, the ones for school theater included. you also gave him the push to take his talents to hollywood. tom was afraid he wasn’t cut out for the big screen, that he needed more practice and experience first. you told him that if this was what he wanted to do, he had to start somewhere. why wait?
tom then landed his first movie role in the impossible at the age of fifteen. he’d received tons of praise and almost gotten nominated for an academy award, all because you convinced him to audition. you played a huge part in keeping him grounded when he was between films, and caught him up on whatever schoolwork he’d missed.
you practically zoomed to tom’s house when he was announced as the next spider-man. you’d been constantly refreshing every social media platform marvel was on since tom became a finalist for the part. that process was probably the most difficult experience he’s ever gone through. you’d know, having heard all about it from tom.
the two of you celebrated along with the rest of tom’s family that night. you kept giving him little proud of you squeezes on his shoulder or knee. tom is eternally indebted to you for being the most supportive of everything he does.
he of course sends the support right back. although he went down the movie star path, acting wasn’t for you. you’d gone off to university and studied hard as hell and aced all your shit. tom quizzed you on material whenever you needed. he wanted to help you somehow, and this was all you’d let him do.
he’d offered to pay off your loans and any other expenses necessary because he had the money to do that now. you refused every single time, not trying to become dependent on him. he admired your drive, yet hated it at the same time. everything you’d done for him, it was his turn to be the caretaker. it should’ve been.
whenever tom wrapped filming for the holidays and came back home, you were always preparing for final exams. he kept you company, content with simply being in your presence. you typed away on your keyboard and read over notes until your eyes burned. tom occasionally brought you snacks, tea, asked how you were and what he could do.
sometimes, he would have to cut your study time short. he’d say it wasn’t healthy or you were overdoing it and to come relax with him for a bit. other times, tom let you be. he didn’t want to get in the way of your already stressful assignments. those were the nights you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop. drool on your chin, hunched over at your desk.
tom made sure to tuck you in, press a light kiss to whatever part of your face wasn’t covered in spit, then let himself out. he knew where your spare key was, so he used that. you’d wake up to a “Fell asleep studying again. Rest today x” text the next morning.
when it came time for you to graduate, tom was on the first flight there. it was during another round of reshoots for chaos walking. he respectfully told doug that he’d have to work around his schedule or replace him, which couldn’t be done so late into filming. tom didn’t care that it made him seem like a prick. he was getting to you no matter what he had to do.
he’d earned plenty of stares and whispers from people as he took his seat in the crowd. he was a proper celebrity now, so he expected it. his solution was to ignore everything and chat with your family about how proud they were of you, tom the most. he saw you go from a kid attempting algebra equations to an adult at her uni graduation. you’ve really grown up together.
it was why he teared up hearing them call your name, seeing you beam as you walked across the stage. your mom grabbed his hand and nodded at him, like she could tell exactly what was going through his head.
you ran right up to tom after the ceremony was over, leaping into his arms. he let out a couple of chuckles as he spun you around. “i didn’t think you’d make it,” you’d admitted, happy yet sad tears in your eyes. tom put you down so he could pull you in for a real hug. “i’ll always be wherever you are, y/n,” he said into your ear, rocking you while you gripped at his suit collar.
flash forward to a year later, your career is finally taking off, tom’s is flourishing like it has been for years, and you’re pregnant with his child. you’re trying to recall the series of events that led you to this moment.
you were both drunk, blackout drunk because the only reason you remember sleeping together is that you woke up naked in the same bed. harrison’s bed.
he threw a housewarming party for himself, having recently moved out of tom’s and the other boys’ place. the three of them, sam, and you were all in attendance, along with a lot of others you hadn’t met.
neither you nor tom could figure out where he knew all those people from. he’d clinged to you two for the most part, more so you now with tom usually away. they could have been from work. harrison is breaking into the business himself, small roles here and there. tom actually met him in your school’s theater program, then he introduced him to you, ten years ago already.
sam entertained himself by making concoctions with the snacks harrison set out. harry got together a playlist for the party. harrison and tuwaine struck up a conversation with some of harrison’s actor friends. that left you and tom alone, out of stuff to do, and with one way to fix it.
“drink?” tom had asked you, a smirk playing on his lips. “love one,” you hummed back and set off for the kitchen. the two of you raided harrison’s liquor cabinet, grabbing his biggest bottle of wine. he’d dumbly pointed it out during the house tour he gave you before the other guests arrived.
you were about to search for glasses, but tom’s fingers threaded through yours. he gently tugged you away and nodded behind him. “let’s bring this upstairs. seems much more fun there,” he’d murmured over the music, a grin breaking across your face.
tom is big on clubbing and socializing, however, you aren’t. he comes up with ways to get you out of these events, just in case.
“we can break in harrison’s bed for him,” you said as a completely harmless joke, no intentions of that becoming your reality later on. spoiler alert: it did. “and how are we gonna do that?” tom quirked a suggestive eyebrow and breathed out a laugh as you dragged him towards the stairs. despite yourself, you’d giggled at his words.
not one drink in either of you yet, and you were stumbling and cracking up as you ran upstairs. you’d pulled tom by your still attached hands into what you remembered as harrison’s room. tom shut the door, locked it, saying under his breath that would be a “convenient investment” for him to make as well.
he took out a bottle opener that he must have put in his pocket at some point and got to work on your wine, you getting comfortable on the new mattress. the two of you passed it to the other after every sip, tom licking the taste of your lip gloss off his own lips every so often.
the equivalent of three drinks in, you were making out. both of you were just tipsy at this point, tom holding you by your hips as you lied down, your legs around his waist. god, he could’ve done this sober. he’d dreamed about kissing you, really kissing you since he was fourteen. you’d always felt like you two had something more. ah, there it was.
halfway through the bottle got you past the next two bases, and you were ready for the fourth and ultimate one by the time you shook the last few drops onto the tip of your tongue. tom groaned at the sight of that, drawing your half naked body in closer to his.
you two had forgotten to use protection in each of your drunken states. without a doubt, you both would’ve agreed to a condom had your minds not been everywhere but where they should have.
you’d woken up first the morning after, panic immediately coursing through your veins thicker than blood. a fully nude and sleeping tom had you in his embrace, arms secured around your middle, facing you. you gasped when you made the connection, loudly enough to wake tom up. his long eyelashes tickled your face, a confused pout on his lips. uh... um...
“did we fucking...” you trailed off, no words to describe whatever unfolded. “fuck?” tom finished for you. a very blunt explanation, but true nevertheless. “looks like it,” he rasped, pout changing into a smile. your face fell at the vague memories of how you spent your night.
you definitely wanted to do it. just, he’s your best friend, who’s seen you at your least sexy moments over the years. when you were sick, had breakdowns from stress, you name literally anything, tom was there. it took one bottle of cheap wine for him to forget that?
the real answer was no. tom is entirely in love with you, for a decade at that. you were beginning to discover you feel the same, only you had no idea he already loves you. you’d assumed this was meant to be merely a hookup. from the frown your face held, he’d thought you were regretting it. oh, were you both so wrong.
“um... we don’t have to talk about it,” tom told you halfheartedly, under the impression that’s what you preferred. you physically felt yourself get weaker in tom’s strong arms. he’s not interested. “yeah, that’s probably for the best. i...” you were lying. his heart shrunk, shriveled up inside his chest. she doesn’t love me like that.
“you have to go. aren’t you behind on some emails?” tom hoped you didn’t hear his voice strain from the tears pushing at his eyes. “right. almost forgot, thanks.” you’d plastered on a smile, slipping out of his grasp. a tear rolled down his cheek, so he wiped it away before you noticed. you’d already gotten out of the bed and begun picking your clothes up off the floor.
“i’ll drive you home, then.” he rolled on to his other side, you thought so he could give you privacy to change. it was that, and also because he was crying. he couldn’t hold it in. tom is naturally an emotional person. imagine finding out the love you’ve had almost half your life is unreciprocated. it’s soul crushing.
you two found harrison snoring and on top of tuwaine as you left the house. no silly remarks or shared glances for the first time in ten years. tom couldn’t muster anything up, and you felt numb.
the drive was painful. you’d said your goodbyes after tom pulled up to the curb, which held an odd weight to them. once you were out of the car, a sob wracked through him, banging on the steering wheel and not giving a shit about the loud horn going off. you collapsed face first onto your bed. hours passed by while you stared at nothing and contemplated everything.
since it happened, you haven’t spoken much. small talk over text every few days or so, both of you pretending things are normal for the other’s sake. about a month later, today, is when you found out you’re pregnant.
there’s no use wallowing in any of this. you need to figure out your next move, one that should probably involve tom. first, you want to talk to someone else. you want other opinions and a voice in your head that isn’t your own. harrison gets a text from you saying to come over now, the now in all caps. he does.
you let him in after the second knock, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. however torn you are, you must look it. shirt balled in your fists, lip quivering. he keeps his eyes on yours as he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. this is all becoming too real. “y/n, are you okay?”
you’re about to cry in three, two...
“haz, i fucked up,” you choke out, tears unable to stay at bay. he takes you into his arms for a hug. half your face is hidden in his shoulder, hands clutching at his back. he lets you cry it out, holding you until your heavy breathing steadies. “what’s happened?” harrison asks quietly, both of you leaving the hug.
“if- if i tell you, you can’t freak out. you can’t tell anyone else, either,” you instruct, searching his eyes for certainty that he won’t under any circumstances. “i won’t, y/n/n,” he assures you and puts an encouraging hand on your arm. your heart pounding abnormally fast, you spit it out. your first time saying it aloud. “i’m pregnant.”
harrison flinches and doesn’t even try to conceal it. he takes his hand off of you, worry swimming across his features. he blinks at you, unsure of what to say. you’d react the same way, maybe worse, so you don’t blame him. a discussion you, him, and tom had a couple years back replays in his mind.
the three of you were talking about your futures, seeing as you were close to living them. when tom asked you two where you stood on having your own families, you didn’t hesitate to answer. “nope, the factory is closed for a long ass time.” until you were in your thirties, you aimed to focus on yourself. harrison distinctly remembered because of how you phrased it.
“you’re... you... wow,” is all he replies with. you head over to the couch, more tears welling up in your eyes. do the pregnancy hormones act up this early? harrison follows you over and sits down next to you with an awkward clearing of his throat. “do you want to be pregnant?” he has to ask because he’s not sure if he should congratulate you or what.
“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, voice airy. your eyes are fixed on the wall in front of you. you haven’t given yourself time to think about it. there are so many reasons you don’t, and a single one you do. “do you, um, know who the dad is?” harrison glances over at you. “yeah.” your voice cracks. you’re both afraid for him to ask what he does next.
he shifts so he’s sitting up. “can i know?” a sniffle passing through you, you finally look at him. “it’s tom,” you say it before you lose the nerve to. harrison’s face doesn’t change this time. he isn’t surprised you and tom went there. he’d seen your friendship growing into more the older you all got. what he can’t believe is where it took you.
his best friend pregnant, and his other best friend responsible for it.
“when did you...” “at your party,” you explain, bringing your legs up so they’re criss cross on the couch. “i thought you were gone a little too long.” he says that to try cheering you up. you appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t work. you’re not in a joking mood. he’ll stick to the main issue. “so, have you told him?”
“clearly not,” you scoff, not at him but at what you two have gotten yourselves into. “y/n... i think you should tell him,” harrison sighs out, then adds, “whether you keep it or not.” “why? that would ruin everything, it already has.” you’re getting angry now, which plunges you into angry crying, voice unsteady as you go on.
“the last time i saw tom was that night, and i guess it meant more to me than it did to him because we haven’t talked about it at all. he didn’t want to.” you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, gaze stern compared to harrison’s soft one.
he drapes an arm around your shoulders, you curling into him with another sniffle. he doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he tries again. “i know you, y/n, and i know tom. you’ll kill yourselves not talking about this.” he’s right, no shit he is. avoiding telling tom how you feel, and your pregnancy on top of that, it’s eating you up inside. it’s swallowing you whole.
“what if he doesn’t want to be a dad? or- or i’m a shit mum?” you croak out, your doubts getting the best of you. “i can barely take care of myself. what am i supposed to do with a baby?” you’re leaning forward with your hands pressing into your temples. harrison’s hand moves to your upper back. “i- i don’t think i should have them. i... we can’t,” you conclude.
“tom loves kids,” he gives you a gentle reminder. “why would his own be the exception?” another good point, yet you still have rebuttles. “right, he’s a godfather and he’s really good with them and all that, but i’m not the right person, and it’s a terrible time,” you tell him all at once, in a rush to get your words out before harrison’s sway you.
“he’s never around, i’m doing my own stuff. we’re not meant for this.” you lift your head out of your hands and sit back on the couch. harrison returns his hands to his lap. he’s frowning at you, which you see from the corner of your eye. “i’m not going to force you to have the baby. just saying you have options.”
yeah, really shitty ones.
“either way, talk to tom.” harrison says this more like a demand so you’ll take his advice into actual consideration. “at least about the hookup.” your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes watering for the nth time already.
you have no choice because he’s right again. you’ll never move on from what happened unless you and tom address it.
the next morning, you do what harrison told you to and invite tom over. he replied saying he was on his way maybe a minute later. he’s nervous to see you because yeah, but more so looking forward since it’s been so long. you’re so nauseous you barely have room for nerves. it’s morning sickness with a hint anxiety.
it feels almost normal when he first gets here, no how’ve you been and what are you up to these days? being as close as you and tom are, you’re not capable of such a dry conversation. personally, you still feel uneasy while he recounts a golfing incident him and harry got into the other day. you know something he doesn’t.
“when i tell you we flew, we flew,” tom makes a pushing forward motion with both hands. “right into the tree. i think harry, like, dented part of his face.” he lets out a breathy laugh, you forcing out one of your own. you’d be more interested without the fact that you’re expecting a child, his child, at the back of your mind.
tom exhales, shifting to face you on your couch. it’s funny how different things were when you and harrison sat in these same spots yesterday. so much has and is about to change.
“they had to send another golf cart to come get us. it was wild.” “it sounds wild,” you hollowly agree. he can tell you’re not too invested in hearing about harry’s terrible driving skills, so he changes the subject. “anyway, harrison told me he came over last night?” your stomach drops, heat coming over your whole body.
“did... did he say why?” you murmur with a look of urgency in your eyes. tom shrugs a shoulder, and casually. there’s no way he knows. “no, was he supposed to?” his tone stays playful, which you can thankfully tell. that puts you more at ease. “no. no, never mind. i would’ve asked you to come, but...” you’re searching through your catalog of excuses.
thank god tom says something else because you can’t find a good one. “it’s alright. i actually, um, had a work call.” a small smile spreads across his face, a proud one. intrigued, you raise both eyebrows. “what’d you talk about?” tom twiddles with his fingers in his lap. “i’ve been offered an audition for this really amazing film. everything works out, it’ll be huge for me.”
you’re smiling back this time, putting a hand over one of his. “woah, that’s incredible. i’m so happy for you, tom.” you lock your fingers with his from the back of his hand. he looks down at them, humbly shaking his head. “when is it?” “a few weeks from today. it films in brazil...”
oh. you can’t tell him now. it’s not worth him missing out on a milestone in his career for a baby you’re not sure you should have. that would be so unfair of you to ask. what are you going to do, not support his dreams for the first time in a literal decade? and, you’d call yourself his best friend through it all?
you guess this also means the way you feel about tom is one sided. he’s okay with leaving you after the most intimate moment you two have ever shared. you’ll dance around it the rest of your lives. better yet, act like the night never even happened. that’s not so easy to do when you’ve got a permanent reminder of it.
the thought makes you sick to your stomach. so sick, you could...
while tom is talking more about what the audition entails, you suddenly bolt up from the couch. you run for the bathroom, a hand cupped over your mouth. his face twists up in confusion from your disappearance. tom calls, “y/n/n?” out to you, but you can’t respond because your head is in the toilet. he rushes in when he hears you retching.
he gets onto the floor with you. you’re bent over, puking your guts out, back in another place where your life changed forever less than twenty four hours ago. tom pulls your hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other on your back. that’s all you have in you. you stay over the toilet just to be sure.
saliva drips from your mouth, making you cough roughly, the sound echoing. tom moves so he’s next to you, keeping his hand in your hair and not caring one bit about the smell because he loves you and he’s utterly concerned about what he witnessed.
“love, are you sick?” he coos, searching for your eyes. they water from the intensity of everything. “morning sickness,” you answer without thinking first. shit. shit, shit, shit. it came out of you like more vomit, word vomit. there’s no going back now.
tom lets go of your hair with his eyes still on yours. his hand on your back then leaves you, fingers trailing down your body as they go. “morning sickness,” he repeats, putting it together. “you’re pregnant?” guilt taking over your features, you sit across from tom. you’re once again leaning against the bathtub, him against the counter.
“this isn’t how i wanted you to find out,” you admit and bring your knees up to your chest. “i took a test yesterday. it was positive.” your arms wrap around your legs, you now tearing up because tom figured it out. a shaky breath passes his lips. “i haven’t gone to my doctor or anything yet, but i-“
“are you keeping the baby?” tom cuts in. not to judge you for your choice, to find out what the fuck is going on before he travels across the world. you tighten your arms around yourself, grabbing your wrist. “i haven’t decided.” he gives you an understanding nod and reaches out for you. you dodge him. he might not want to do that after what you say next.
“tom, i... there’s more,” you whimper out. “yeah. i’m... i’m listening,” tom croaks, unable to hold in his infinite amount of emotions for a multitude of reasons. he’s losing you a second time. more tears spill from your eyes as you break the news, the news that will destroy what he’s been working towards his entire life.
“the baby is yours.” his face relaxes, looking almost relieved when you confess it. “when we slept together, uh,” you’re sure it’s obvious enough that you don’t have to go over the details. he’s tearing up himself. you reluctantly continue. “if you still want to audition, i get it. we don’t have to do this.”
“fuck the audition. fuck the whole movie. all of my movies, really,” tom surprises you by blurting out. he moves in until your legs are touching. “i’m staying. even if you don’t have the baby, i have to be here.” you watch in disbelief as he wipes away what are actually happy tears. “really? i was scared you’d resent me for it, or hate me even,” you mumble to him.
“y/n, what? why would i ever do that?” tom places a hand on your cheek, touch gentle and filled with love. you part your legs so he can be closer to you. he takes the space between them, thumb brushing over your skin. “i didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of this. i thought that night was only a hookup for you.” your voice wobbles under his gaze.
“no, are you kidding? i thought that’s what you thought.” he’s smiling now, eyes twinkling along with it. what he’s been meaning to tell you since you were only kids finally comes out. “i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, y/n. i always imagined myself doing this with you.” his words draw a quiet laugh from you, a happy one. “i know we were drunk, but i meant it all.”
the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, they make you cry all over again. you’re getting used to it.
“i love you, tom,” you lean into him with a sniffle and a grin, his forehead now resting on yours, using his thumb to catch one of your tears. “i really do.” “i love you forever. i always have,” tom speaks lowly, breath fanning across your face. your hands grab at his shoulders. “so, you’ll stay? you’ll do this with me?” he reminds you of what he said before, this time a promise.
“forever.”
-
you ended up having the baby, and tom held your hand through the entire labor. nikki was holding his other hand, your mom holding your other hand. harrison had originally been in the room as well. when you started to push, he got freaked out and had to leave. your support system remained strong either way.
despite his repulsion of your daughter’s birth, you and tom decided to make harrison her godfather. he eventually became the godfather of your other two children also, which you had a few years later.
tom took a paternity leave from the industry so he could be with you and jamie. he’d also used his time off to propose to you, something else he fantasized about since year eleven in school. it wasn’t anything too grand because the whole world was already buzzing about you two, and a big gesture felt too impersonal with everything you’d been through together.
he did it in the form of passing a note, something you often did in class to avoid being scolded by your teacher for talking. the note came with a pencil to check off either the yes or no box, “will you marry me?” written above them. anyone else would have found it so unromantic, but you giggled as you checked off yes before your lips crashed into his smiling ones.
you were married shortly after the proposal, jamie as your flower girl and all your friends and family in attendance.
to do what he loved and stay with the people he loved, tom created his own version of hollywood in london. he took it upon himself to assemble a team and make a production company. harry behind the camera, harrison and tuwaine in the films, and tom either starring alongside them or directing. they give so many young actors tons of opportunities.
you eventually went back to work, too. it was like you’d never left, coworkers offering endless hugs and going over what you missed, not that you struggled getting into it. tom was there to celebrate every promotion, every compliment from your boss, every part of your life. jamie was also there, then liam and lucy.
all three of them are running around the house right now, putting on shoes and collecting their supplies for school. you take a sip of the orange juice liam didn’t finish with a lighthearted eye roll. tom chuckles as he passes you in the kitchen, getting the kids’ lunchboxes for them to minimize the chaos.
“you have that pitch meeting today, right?” he slips his hands through the lunchbox handles and walks over to you. “mhm,” you hum, mouth full with juice. his lips press to your temple, giving your waist a one handed squeeze. “you’ll smash it. always do.” “thanks, tommy.” putting down the cup, you reach up to button whatever parts of his shirt he didn’t have time to.
“aren’t you doing a casting? for the new script they sent?” you wonder aloud and smooth down the cotton material. “me and harry. should be interesting,” he remarks, you giving him a quick kiss back on his chin. they tend to have their artistic differences. “good luck with that. you do drop off, i’ll do pick up?” you pat one of the lunchboxes around his arms.
“deal.” tom goes in for a kiss on your lips, then a chorus of dad, we have to go led by jamie rings through the house. with a knowing smile, you push at his chest. “see you later. love you.” “love you, holland,” he bites back a grin of his own. his last name, now yours, suits you perfectly.
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wisteriashouse · 3 years
Text
huddling.
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pairing: rengoku kyoujurou x reader
genre: fluff
word count: 1482
a/n: found an old incomplete draft and completed it instead of writing something new from scratch because i am ✨ lazy ✨ smh
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It’s absolutely freezing.
“I do not think that we’ll be able to make it back to a Wisteria House tonight!” Kyoujurou calls over his shoulder, his booming voice somehow dampened by the roar of the winter gale. Pulling your haori tighter around yourself in a poor attempt to shield yourself from the freezing winds, you do your best to stop your teeth from chattering before calling out a reply to the man in front of you.
“What do we do, then?”
There’s the crunch of Kyoujurou’s zori sandals on the snow as he trudges back to you, his bright hair tossed about relentlessly by the winter storm. Contrary to you, he appears completely unaffected by the cold, a vigorous smile on his face even as the winds batter the two of you. Perhaps it has something to do with him being the Flame Pillar, you think as you try your best not to shiver. 
Kyoujurou, of course, notices.
“Are you cold?” He asks, brow furrowed as he looks you over - a cursory glance of concern that has no right making your heart skip a beat as it does. Cheeks heating slightly, you turn away so that he can notice and shake your head, fisting your hands to stop the shivering. It wouldn’t do to have you embarrassing yourself in front of a Pillar.
“No, I’m alright.” 
You’re proud of the fact that your teeth only chatters once.
Kyoujurou frowns slightly, and before you can ask him what the matter is, he’s already slipping the haori from his shoulders and stepping forward. Shocked at his offering, you raise your hands to stop him in his tracks, shaking your head desperately. “No, no, I’m really alright, Kyoujurou-san-” 
The Flame Pillar pays no heed to your words, humming lightly as he sets the fabric of his haori around your shoulders, smoothing it out with his hands so that it wraps snugly around you. To your surprise, the second the haori settles around your form, you feel yourself enveloped in warmth - Kyoujurou’s gentle warmth woven into every fibre and stitch seeping into your skin.
“Kyoujurou-san, I really...” your words trail off, caught between slight guilt at taking his outer coat in this cold and the desire to continue basking in his warmth. Already, the added layer of protection against the winds make you want to cry with gratefulness. Kyoujurou only laughs at your hesitance, reaching out to sweep some snow off the top of your head. 
“It’s no problem! As you are my junior, I should be looking out for you!” His words, simple as they are, are enough to make your heart trip in your chest. He smiles at you once more before his eyes turn razor sharp again, glancing over the expanse of snow behind you before making a quick decision. “We’ll find a cave somewhere and get out of this cold. It wouldn’t do to keep wandering about in the middle of a snowstorm and the mountains are treacherous at night.”
He takes a single step forward, pauses, and glances back at you briefly. You blink at him, a little confused at the way he’s staring at you, before he’s suddenly reaching out to take your hand in his.
“Come on!” Kyoujurou says brightly, even as you gape at him. “I would hate for you to get lost in the snow! This way, I’ll know that you’re always behind me!”
With a gentle tug of his hand, he leads you through the snowstorm, shielding you from the biting winds with his own body. His hand is wonderfully warm, long, strong fingers folding over yours and holding you close behind him. Sure that you’re out of his sight, you finally allow yourself to smile - happiness seeping through the cracks of the professional facade you try to keep up around your senior.
The two of you find a small cave embedded in the side of the mountains after a few minutes of searching. Ducking into the small crevice splitting the rock face, you let out a sigh of relief to finally be out of the wind, drawing Kyoujurou’s haori tighter around yourself. 
Deep into the cave, where you can no longer hear the howling of the wind outside, Kyoujurou spots the remains of an old campfire - apparently, both of you aren’t the first ones to take refuge here from the elements. While you pick out the still salvageable twigs to burn later on, Kyoujurou works on starting the fire with a small flint and steel. A few minutes later, the darkness of the cave seems to fade ever so slightly, and you turn around to see your mentor holding up a patch of burning kindling that illuminates his triumphant smile.
“We’ll have to wait out the storm here,” Kyoujurou tells you after he gets the fire going, sitting next to you. Your backs against the wall, both of you watch the little fire you have in front of you crackle merrily, orange gold flames so much like his hair near hypnotising you with the way they dance. You nod, tuck your feet close to you and blow on your hands, because even with Kyoujurou’s cloak, your extremities still feel they might freeze at any moment. If that’s how cold you feel, you wonder how Kyoujurou hasn’t turned into a walking block of ice.
“Kyoujurou-san,” you begin to say, concerned, and his head turns around immediately to look at you with a bright smile. Golden light flicker across half of his face, the other half cast into shadow. Remarkably handsome, you want to say, but instead you ask, “Are you sure you aren’t cold? I mean, I have your haori and I’m still freezing…”
His mouth twitches into a slight smile at your question, but then suddenly he laughs, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. “Well, when you put it that way, yes, I am very cold right now. Perhaps I should talk to Oyakata-sama about winter uniforms during the next Pillar meeting!” He laughs again at the thought, and his eyes soften. “But I am quite alright. It is more important to me that you will not freeze. I am uncomfortable, but I have been through worse. Do not worry about me!”
That doesn’t sound very good. Chewing on your bottom lip, you glance down at the haori covering you before turning back to the man sitting next to you. “Then, Kyoujurou-san, how about we share?”
He stares at you, a befuddled expression on his face that constitutes of a boyish raise of the eyebrows and a slight scrunch of his nose as he fights back a sneeze. “Share? How?”
“Well,” you hold up his haori in front of you to gauge how much it will cover. And… that was a silly suggestion to make, because you have vastly overestimated the size of his haori, but you also don’t want to go back on your word about sharing it. “Like this…”
Sidling up next to him, you try to press yourself as close as possible to his side without actually touching him, before you toss the haori over the two of you. It ends up failing to cover either of you completely, but at least now you feel less bad about having it all to yourself. “I mean, it’s important to me that you don’t freeze either, Kyoujurou-san.”
Kyoujurou is quiet for a second, before he smiles again, more slowly this time - it’s not bright as the sun, like his usual laughter and grins are, but more gentle and muted, like the small fire in front of you. “That’s very nice to hear,” he says. For some reason, you can’t bring yourself to look at him - instead, you keep your eyes firmly focused on the flames in front of you, watching them as sparks swirl into the air. 
While they are very pretty, they also make you sleepy in a record amount of time. In almost no time at all, you’re fighting to keep down a yawn, your eyelids starting to droop. When your head nearly falls forward, a gentle hand catches you by the chin and guides your head to rest on a strong shoulder.
You try your best to stay awake, you really do, but Kyoujurou hums lightly, his hand settling lightly on your head. “Just go to sleep,” your mentor says gently as you struggle to keep your eyes open. You’re practically leaning against him at this point, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “I’ll take the first watch, so you don’t have to worry about a thing.”
“Mmm, wake me up when you want to change over...” you barely manage to make out before your eyes slip shut. You vaguely remember something gentle touching your forehead, but you cannot remember what it was in the least. 
All you know is that you slept warmly that night, and that’s enough for you.
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gaysimpsstuff · 3 years
Note
HI IM THE DOM DEKU ANON (I’ll go by ✨ for now? If that’s okay?) first of all that was SO good holy SHIT. I would LOVE more if you want to write it!!! I loved every single second of it, thank you thank you thank you!!! -✨
AHHHHHHH I LOVE YOU TOOOO!!!
You’re awesome, Sparkle Anon! Take this as a token of my appreciation!
Part One Here
Dominate Deku PT.2; My Hero
Deku x GN! Reader
Genre: smutty smut
Word Count: 2.3K
Warnings: cursing, semi-public sex, praise, blowjobs, dirty talk, praise, dom deku, breath play, masturbation
Summary: After being saved by Pro Hero Deku, you (his biggest fan), decide to thank him the best way you know how.
Other: I decided to make this one a oneshot because I’m better at those than headcannons. 
NSFW Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy (lemme know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist)
Before requesting, please check if requests are open. This was made while requests were still open.
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A normal day. That’s what it was supposed to be. You were not supposed to be stuck in the middle of a villain fight. You were not supposed to meet your hero. You were definitely not supposed to do that with him. And you were not supposed to get his number.
But that’s what happened.
Your day started out boring as hell, wake up to your loud-ass alarm, get dressed in a boring ass outfit, eat a boring breakfast, grab a coffee or something to wake you up, and go to work. 
You already knew what was supposed to happen today, and this was not it. You were supposed to stay behind the counter of the coffee shop and take orders. If you were lucky someone would put something funny for their name. Instead, you got an explosion down the street. Immediately, the costumer’s raced out of the building, you and your co-workers following suit.
You located three pro heroes.
Dynamight
Red Riot
Deku
You also noticed a few villains. You realized Dynamight must have been the cause of the explosion. But oh my god- you’re favorite hero, the current number one hero.
Deku.
He was here.
Outside your coffee shop.
Fighting villains.
Best.
Day.
Ever.
On TV, he looked different. Nothing could fully capture that beautiful neon glow around him, or the way his green curls would float upwards and bounce around. And Damn did his undercut look fucking awesome. He looked huge, like he could carry you with his pinky finger. He probably could- no. He definitely could.
Just as you were thinking this, one of the villains grabbed you and yanked you in front of her. You glanced at the other villain, who’d pulled a random civilian in front of him too.
Fuck.
Maybe today wasn’t the best day ever after all.
“Come on heroes! Fight us! Or are you afraid we’ll hurt these innocent people? Back off and we might just let them live!” The villain holding you shouted at the heroes.
There was a moment’s hesitation.
Silence.
Then something wrapped around you and the other civilian, and you were yanked forward, barreling towards the heroes.
Deku.
Did he really move that fast?
Deku stopped himself behind the other two heroes, who immediately ran towards the villains, but you barely even noticed.
Deku had his arm wrapped around you, holding you close. He grinned at both you and the other civilian, a glint in his emerald eyes.
“Don’t you guys worry, we’re here and we’ll keep you safe!” Your heart fluttered at the sound of his catchphrase.
You’re hero is so cool!
He sets the two of you down, but his hand lingers on your waist for a moment, his eyes meeting yours.
You felt your whole body heat up as his hand slipped down, brushing against your backside before he quickly stuffed it into his pocket.
“Dynamight! Red Riot! You guys finished?”
“If you’d been paying attention, Deku, then you would have seen that we’ve already restrained the villains.” Deku’s face flushed a little, and he scratched behind his neck with a chuckle.
“Sorry guys!”
The police arrived a minute later, and the crowd dispersed pretty quickly. You got in the line for an autograph from Deku. You silently hoped that he wouldn’t leave to soon.
You were the last person in line thanks to your earlier flustered behavior. If only you’d gotten over your embarrassment quicker.
Finally, you approached your hero.
“Um- hi Deku,” you stuttered, mentally kicking yourself for acting so shy. “Thank you so much for saving me, I was sure I was gonna get hurt back there!” He grinned down at you (how was he so fucking tall?) and your heart skipped a beat.
“It’s no problem, really. My job is to help people like you.” His smile was so sweet, but for some reason he seemed uncomfortable. Shifting from one foot to the next, glancing at you and away from you as if you were the cause. Were you weirding him out?
��Ah- I’m sorry if I cause you any trouble-“ you started, only to get intuition by the green-haired hero.
“No no no, you didn’t cause me any trouble.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to decipher his behavior. Then you saw it.
Shit.
This is awkward.
W-why was he hard?
Did- did you do that?
An idea popped into your head, a stupid, horny idea. One that probably wouldn’t work. But god did you hope it would work.
“I-if there’s anything I can do to repay you, I want to do it.” He glanced down at you, a look of understanding in his eyes. He seemed to hesitate before shaking his head.
“It’s alright- I can handle myself. I should really be apologizing-“ now it was your turn to interrupt.
“No, no it’s okay. I’d like to help.” He looked down at you, lifting an eyebrow to double check how sure you were. You have him a nod in response and he relaxed, smiling at you.
“Alright then. Dynamight! Red Riot! You two can go ahead without me, I’ve got some business to attend to.”
Dynamight shouted something at him, flipping him off, Red Riot stood in front of him and smiled nervously, waving at Deku.
“Don’t worry about it, man! We’ll finish off the patrol on our own!” The two of them turned the corner. Leaving you. With Deku. Alone. The her turned to look at you, gently placing his hand on your upper arm before taking you with him into an alley, ducking around the corner with you. 
“What’s your name?” he asked, cheeks flushed.
“Y-Y/n L/n.” you responded nervously.
“Y/n...” he murmured your name and you could feel your soul leaving your body. “Y/n are you sure you want to help me with this? You don’t have to and I’m not going to do this if you don’t want to. I could always just take care of it myself and-”
“I really want to help!” you exclaimed. “I’ve been a fan of yours for years and well... I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find you attractive.” You felt his hand on your shoulder before you were spun around and pressed up against the wall. You let out a squeak as he pushed on your body lightly, putting you on your knees quickly in front of the hero. 
“Tell me if you want to stop.” his voice had changed, usually it was lighter and carried a sort-of happy-go-lucky tone to it, but now... His voice was deeper, almost a growl, and the look in his eyes made you shudder. You nodded at him quickly, before he undid a small clip near his crotch. It was probably there to help him pee without needing to take off his whole costume, but well... this was a great alternate use.
He pulled out his dick, and you choked. It wasn’t even anywhere near your mouth and you already couldn’t breath. He had to have been eight or nine inches, curving upwards and to the left. There was a long vein on the underside, and a couple smaller veins on the top. It was a shade darker than the rest of his skin, and the tip was very pink. It’d be cute if it wasn’t so goddamn big. Deku must have noticed your reaction, because he let out a soft chuckle.
“Yeah, that’s the face most people make.” he joked. “Gonna give up on me now?” you shook your head, clenching your legs together. You reached up, slowly wrapping your fingers around his length.
He smirked down at you, reaching down and brushing your hair out of your face. You slowly started to jerk him off, feeling him harden even more in your hand. A droplet of pre slipped out of the slit, dripping off of him. You moved to catch the drop in your mouth. It didn’t have much of a taste, reminded you a bit of cottage cheese maybe? Except not cold.
“Damn~ that was hot,” you looked up at the hero, who was leaning half against the wall. His eyes seemed to have darkened, and he had a smug look on his face that made your stomach flip. “You like it? Hmm? Like this hero’s cock?” you whimpered, nodding. “Why don’t you take on more of it, hm? How’s that sound baby~” 
His voice went straight to your crotch, and you dipped your hands into your pants to touch yourself. You pressed your lips against the tip of his cock, kissing it. You slowly kissed down the underside, all the way to the base. You heard him hiss as you licked a stripe all the way up to his tip, flattening your tongue against him.
His hands wove into your hair, tugging on it lightly. You shudder, opening your mouth and slowly taking the tip in to your waiting cavern. You watch the hero’s expression carefully, how his eyebrows quirk up, how he hisses, how his pearly teeth dig into the soft flesh of his lower lip, how his eyes are half-closed.
“That’s it, you’re doing so good for me.” he murmurs. “Taking my cock so well, gonna try an get me to cum? Is that what you want? Want your hero to cum all over you?” you hummed, slowly taking in more of him.
He was so big, you could barely get down halfway, reaching up to stroke the three and a half inches you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You watched as his smug look only grew, his cock twitching in your mouth as you started to bob your head, tongue running along the underside.
His breath hitched, and he tightened his grip on your hair, slowly starting to guide you along his length. You moved your hand away from his dick, putting your arm around the back of his waist, using it to push yourself all the way down on him. Tears bubbled up in your eyes, and you were just barely getting enough air.
God it was so perfect.
You sped up your other hand, masturbating as you sucked off the Number One Hero in an alleyway. 
Your nose was buried in a thick mass of dark green hair, and you could feel the vibrations of his voice from the support of his lower stomach. 
“Fuck, Y/n! Who knew you were so fucking good at this? This is certainly not gonna be a one-time thing~” 
Oh god yes. 
You choked and gagged on his dick as he pulled his hips away from you before snapping them against your face. His balls slapped against your chin with every thrust into your mouth. The tears escaped, tumbling down your heated cheeks, but you made no effort to pull away. 
You could feel your climax approaching, and you looked up at Deku with wide, innocent, eyes, willing him to cum in your mouth. He let out a soft moan at your expression, understanding.
“Get ready, baby, you’re gonna taste me soon~” he growled with need. You relaxed your throat as best you could, closing your eyes and preparing for him. Soon, his hips started to stutter against your face, and you felt something hot and sticky fill your mouth.
You pulled off his dick with a gasp, a few shots of stray cum landing on your face. You coughed a little, swallowing as much as you could and wiping your tears. You barely noticed him crouching down and handing you a tissue to clean your face with. 
“Baby~ you haven’t cum yet have you~” he asked softly. You shook your head.
“S’fine, just wanted to make you feel good.” you told him, and he frowned, slamming his hand against the wall behind you, leaning in close.
“I’m not leaving until you cum.” there it was again, the dominance, his demanding tone, his true wolf-like nature pushing through. You whimpered, pulling your pants down enough for him to see you. He sucked in a breath, leaning close to you and moving his hand towards you.
You put your hands over your mouth when he started to touch you. Fast yet calculated movements, he knew exactly what to do to you to make you come undone. You quickly latched onto him, hips jerking upwards as you came hard on his hand.
You felt his lips against your neck, pressing soft kisses until he reached all the way up to yours. His lips were soft, and tasted like watermelon. You lifted your head feebly to kiss him back, but he was already pulling away. He sucked his fingers and hand clean, keeping eye-contact with you the whole time.
You could feel yourself growing weak under his powerful gaze. When he finished, he wiped his hand off on his pants, tucking his softening dick back into his pants and clipping them shut. He pressed something into your hand, smiling at you.
“You can take care of yourself from here, right? Or do I need to save you again~” he teased. You nodded, muttering that you’d be fine. His smirk softened into a sweet grin, and he stood up. “Call me, I’d like to see you again.” he said over his shoulder, turning the corner and leaving the alley. You lifted your hand to see what he gave you, a crumpled piece of paper with a phone number and the words ‘Izuku Midoriya’ printed next to it.
His phone number. 
Not only had you just sucked his dick, you got his number. You sighed, resting your head against the wall and closing your eyes for a moment. Suddenly, you remembered you still had work, and you stood up, rushing to pull your pants and underwear back on.
So what if today was supposed to be a normal day? 
It didn’t end up being one, and you were so glad for it.
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daniyanii · 3 years
Text
I POSTED THIS ON MY WATTPAD (melaninanimez) FIRST
Soft Yandere Dabi
You remember the exact day you met him. You were just doing your day to day job as a florist. You loved your little shop with everything you had left, because well....it was all you had left.
Many years ago your shop was actually your fathers. You used to run around smelling the flowers and playing with the petals in your own world while he worked to give you everything he could. Life was good...until it wasn't.
One day while you were playing in the back room, your father was being robbed. He was always a prideful man and would refuse to give up, but that was his downfall. He refused to give the money not because he was greedy, but because he was saving up to give you a real christmas that year.
After he refused the money the robber was fed up. Your little dream world was interrupted by a single gunshot, something heavy dropping to the floor, and rummaging through the cash register.
You heard the bell on the front door ring quickly as whoever committed this crime ran off. You were completely frozen with fear, but you slowly inched yourself out the room. Once you hit the main room you were horrified to see blood spilling down the small steps that lead behind the counter.
"Daddy?" your high voice whispered out
But you got not response, the only sound that filled the room was the spilling of blood and your jagged breaths.
You had to no choice but to walk up the steps since that was the only way to get behind the counter. You always used to run around barefoot so you had to step directly in the warm trailing blood. When you peeked behind the counter it confirmed your worst nightmare.
Your father had been shot dead.
You remember running to his body and screaming. Begging him to move or talk, asking him not to leave you. But after a few minutes of crying and pleading you knew it was over, he was gone.
He wasn't the first parent you had seen dead either. Your mother killed herself by overdosing a year prior. It took you hours to realize she wasn't just sleep. You remember bouncing on her chest laughing, and begging her to get up. But after your poured water on her hand and when she didn't move you knew something was wrong.
You always tried not to think about it but without fail it remained a constant replaying memory. It was like an annoying fly who just wouldn't go away no matter how many windows you open. You took the pain and trauma from both of those situations and pushed it all the way down to your feet. Whenever you thought about it in public you would just put a smile on your face like always and keep moving.
One day a young man came in staring at the ground, refusing to look up at you. Nevertheless, you still smiled and greeted him like all your other customers.
"Do you have any sunflowers?" He mumbled out still looking as far down as he could.
"Of course I do! Let me show you." You spoke with enthusiasm since surprisingly no one ever asked for sunflowers. Plus....they were your dad's favorite.
You stepped down the steps, and lightly grabbed his hand to lead him to the flowers. He seemed to tense at this but didn't pull away.
"Theyre all the way back here since people aren't usually big fans of them." You explained but quickly shut up, feeling like he wasn't one for small talk. You let go of his hand when the sunflowers came in view.
"There they are, beautiful as ever. I'll leave you to it, any other questions you have I'd be glad to answer." Since his head was slightly up now he could see you but you couldn't really see him, you still gave him your warmest smile and began to walk back to the counter.
"Um, can you actually help me pick one? I'm not very good at this." He spoke deeply, he knew that any other day he would have wordlessly walked in and wandered till he found what he needed, grabbed the first one he saw and left. But something about this woman made him have to talk to her. She radiated this warmth that even he couldn't make.
"Of course! It's not like there's anyone else in here." She turned around smiling again
She began asking him simple questions only flower related. She could tell he was a private man due to his lack of responses and she would respect that. After they picked which ones he wanted they traveled back up to the counter. He had subconsciously fully lifted his head up, displaying scorched skin and stitches. He didn't even realize until she spoke again.
"I'm sorry but your eyes are just beautiful." She confessed to him which made his eyes widen
Half of my face is burnt to a crisp but she noticed my eyes first? And complimented me...she must be joking
"I'm sorry again, I didn't mean to upset you and overstep. Here you go, free of charge." She quickly recanted once she saw his face frown
When he went to grab the flowers his hands grazed hers. He expected her to snatch her hand back after feeling the scorched skin, but she gently let go once she was sure the flowers were in his grip.
"It's alright. Thankyou for the flowers and helping me but I must pay you." He reached to his pocket but she pulled his hand out, holding it for a second.
"No need. It's nice to actually have a customer on the weekdays. Consider it a gift!" beaming brightly and the dark man
That damn smile again, why is it so enchanting? Is that her quirk?
"What's your name?" He blurted out before he could stop himself, and subconsciously tightened the hold on her hand
"Y/n L/n. What about you stranger?" Her smile never once faltered and she didn't even think about pulling her hand away
Why isn't she scared of me? Or is she just good at acting?
"Dabi. My name is Dabi." He bluntly responded
"Well Dabi, I hope to see you again. You seem like a good man." Y/n had always been like this, her kindness knew no limits. Anyone else would’ve immediately labeled Dabi dangerous…which he was
"I- Okay." For once Dabi didn't know what to say
After that day he stalked her non stop. It was such a surprise to see that once she was in the "safe" confines of her home how fast her smile dropped. How on most days her eyes would immediately begin to water as she scolded herself about being weak.
It saddened him to see how draining it was for her to act so nice. She wasted her kindness on anyone and everyone, and it took a lot out of her.
He had finally worked the courage up to go back. This time he knew he'd have to have her forever.
"Hey Dabi! Nice to see you again." she exclaimed
She remembers my name?
"Hi Y/n." He spoke lowly trying to avoid eye contact since he knew she was probably disgusting by his burnt skin and stitches
"More sunflowers?" she questioned since most people always got the same flowers
"Um, I guess you could say that." He answered knowing she wouldn't get it, but he knew that whenever he saw sunflowers (or any flower for the most part) he couldn't help but see her smile.
He considered her a flower, more specifically a sunflower.
"Well you know where they are. Need any help picking them out?" She questioned while he just nodded in response
She took a deep breath and walked down the very steps that haunted her. Almost as if she could still feel the warm blood between her toes She refused to show her pain so she did what she always did....smile the pain away.
When they got to the very back where no one could see them, he grabbed her hand. Not forcefully, but he had a good grip on her, scared that she would snatch away.
but she didn't
and in that moment he knew
she was his and his only
"Dabi are you okay?" She asked smile slowly dropped as she saw his nervous face
"Why aren't you scared of me?" He blurted out, needing to know the reason.
Her warm smile came back as she grabbed his hand a little tighter
"Well, you haven't given me a reason to be. You're really nice, and I have no room to judge anyone."
Dabi's heart was beating so fast he could hear it. He no longer could live without her, what was to come next had to be done.
"W-Would you mind taking a walk with me?" He asked nervously, knowing that any normal person would practically scream no
"Of course, the shop is slow today anyways. Come on." She took their hands and intertwined their fingers
Dabi could feel all the blood rushing to his cheeks. He never had a woman, or anyone touch him like this so willingly.
She let Dabi lead and after quite some time she realized he was walking her out of town.
"Dabi where are we going? Town is back that way." She questioned
"I-I'm selfish. I need you, I want you, and so I'll have you. You'll learn to lik-." Dabi was cut off by lips touching his
His heart damn near stopped
He had never been kissed before
He'd never even had a hug
And here she was kissing him first
"Dabi I already like you. I'll go anywhere you want, but what about my shop? It's been in my family for generations." She replied softly
I'm fucking dreaming arent I?
"W-We can arrange t-to have it looked after." He was in such shock he could barely talk
"Okie Dokie. Then lets go!"
"Are you serious? You're not gonna run or scream and call me a monster? You'll just come with me willingly?" He stared at her with udder disbelief, expecting her to kill me
"Will you protect me?" She ignored his questions and dropped her smile to know she was serious
"With my life. You'll never be hurt again." He didn't even hesitate, wrapping arms around her waist, not pulling her in for a hug because he didn't wanna scare her.
"Will you give me your loyalty?"
"There is no one else I could ever feel like this for. Only you." He confessed truthfully
"And you promise not to leave?" She was tired of everything in her life leaving
So what if Dabi wasn't "normal"?
So what if she would never leave his sight?
She finally had someone again, and she didn't wanna have to let go again.
And he wasn't letting her go
So it would all workout
"I will never leave you. And you can't leave me. I-I love you." Dabi couldn't believe he just said that but he really couldn't believe what happened next after that
"Then what are we still here for. I'm ready to go home with you." she said while pulling him in for a deep hug
He just inhaled her scent, she smelled so floral and ethereal.
He couldn't believe she wanted to be with him.
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