#Develop a habit for this boys and there will be a Very Awkward conversation about why CYFAC's water bill is so high | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miemiew1st · 2 years

Text

<We're friends, right?>

Josuke Higashikata x reader

cw: nsfw, nipple play(m. receiving), unprotected sex, dry humping, cockwarming, josuke being awkward but also a sex beast

Being friends with the popular Josuke has really turned out to be a whole rollercoaster of emotions. Him being a troublemaker and getting in a lot of musty stuff would always end up with a new funny story to tell your friends about.

Not only was it fun to hang around with him, but also you've noticed how you'd start developing a habit of analyzing his facial features and staring at his handsome? ridiculous face whenever you'd got the chance to.

Moreover, most of the times when girls were drooling over him you would always brush it off or even find it annoying because you couldn't understand how the hell is that head of a walking nest attractive. Now, things have somehow changed. Whenever a girl would compliment him or try and get his attention, you'd feel a tight, uncomfortable feeling in your chest.

Was it.. Could it be jealousy? Nah, you must have been out of your mind to think of your old best friend Higashikata in a more than a friend way. Or so you'd make yourself to believe.

Talking of him, the lunch break should start soon, so you'll get some alone time with the so said friend, since Okuyasu is skipping classes today and Koichi felt off and went to the school nurse.

Usually, you'd be excited and looking forward to spending some of your own time with Josuke however for some reason you feel anxious and even nervous about the idea of being all alone with him.

Here comes the moment, the bell rings alerting the class that it's lunch time. You watch as everyone sits up and walks through the main door while chatting and laughing with their friend groups, when suddenly your boy best friend snaps you out of your trance by bumping you over your shoulder.

"What are you waiting for? It's the lunch break, let's go" You look up to where the deep voice is coming from, greeted with Josuke's plain expression and his pair of ocean blue eyes making contact with yours.

"Right" You send him a somehow fake smile, trying to hide your emotions and intrusive thoughts so that he wouldn't worry about you.

You stand up from your place, and both of you head to the "secret place" found by Okuyasu, which is actually the school's closet.

***

Settling right next to his place on the floor, you open your bento and start to quietly enjoy your food. Glancing over to Josuke, you can't help but take note of the video game he's playing: his favorite Eyes of heaven. Surely, he's crazy over this kind of games.

You poke at his side teasingly "Can't take your eyes off that game even when it's just the two of us, huh?" At that he scoffs, mumbling something about how you're gonna make him lose.

"Well, Okuyasu didn't come to school today so what am I supposed to do, right?" Ouch. Did he just make a hint saying you're boring to talk to?

"So you're saying you find me boring?" The question came out more aggressive than you thought, which gave away the way you don't like the fact of him thinking you're no fun.

He stops his game, turning over to look at you "Huh?? I never said that. It's just that you have more things in common with Koichi, I don't really know how to start a conversation with you properly."

You pause for a little, processing everything he's saying. You're considering him your friend, best friend even. You always enjoy your time with him at the top of your free time and you find him very interesting. Did he ever say he enjoys spending time with you tho?

Now that you think of it, you don't remember that he ever called you his friend or started a conversation with you first. What if he didn't even think of you as a friend, and just a classmate?

The doubts running through your head were starting to bring anxiety to you, and without even thinking about it, the words slip past your lips "Josuke?"

The tone of your voice alerted him, gaining his attention as he curiously waited for you to continue what you're willing to say.

"We're friends, right?"

The room fell silent, some weird type of tension growing between the two of you, making you uncomfortable. You always felt so cozy around Josuke, feeling like this around him is unusual for you.

JoJo blinks dumbfonded, trying to figure out what was the point of the question. He's always thought of you as a close friend, were you having doubts about the two of yours relationship?

"Uh, I guess it's obvious we are, isn't it?" His words make you sigh out of relief, but also bring your senses back and make you realize how awkward and embarrassing your random thought sounded. "Why would you ask me that? Is everything alright?"

Oh well, now the tension is building up again. Sometimes you wish you could stuff your mouth so that you couldn't get one stupid word out of it.

Josuke shifts closer to you, his face close enough to yours to feel his hot breath on your skin. You look into his eyes that hold worry and nothing but pure care.

"You know you can always tell me if something bothers you. I care about you"

Yeah.. He cares about you. You knew you had to be grateful for such an amazing friend you've got, but right now something inside of you makes you wish he cared about you as more than a friend.

"What if I don't want you to care about me like that" What are you doing? You think you've lost your mind as you let all of your thoughts come out and bring honesty in the sentences you're whispering while gazing down.

Well now he is confused. Josuke can do nothing but raise his eye brow in confusion, straightening up and scratching the back of his head. "You don't want me to care bout you? I don't quiet get it, Y/n"

He looks truly dumbfounded, his blue eyes making a perfect expression of what confusion means. You start thinking, he's actually always been handsome, you just didn't want to admit it to yourself. In the back of your mind, you've been scared he wouldn't see you as a more than a friend thing, that's why you would deny your own feelings.

Taking risk for everything you and Higashikata had gone through together, you make up your mind to follow your heart at the moment. You were sure you'd regret it later no matter what the outcome would be, but you couldn't care less in the moment when you had the perfect opportunity to do what all of his fangirls couldn't, to take advantage of the way hes so close to you.

You shift on your fours, putting a hand on Josuke's chest and pushing him against the wall behind him. Your cheeks are flushed red, mouth hanging open and arousal taking over your senses as you feel the muscles of his chest flex and move under your finger tips.

"U-uhm.. Y/n?" He brings back focus to his face, seeing how he's absolutely shocked and poor boy doesn't know what is happening right now. He looks so lost and confused, you decide to speak up about your intentions.

"I want you to care about me as more than a friend, Josuke" You can feel him gasp inaudibly and you feel the way his heartbeat increases in speed. When you're sure in the fact he isn't in fact stopping you, you continue your assault on him.

Supporting yourself with a hand on his shoulder, you use your other hand to settle yourself on top of his thighs, sitting down in his lap and put the hand on his chest.

When you finally look up to catch in his reactions, you're actually surprised to notice the way his nose is a cute shade of pinkish now, along with the very top of his ears. His eyes are glazy and shine while he bores into your own eyes.

"You're so handsome, JoJo.."

You want to.. Gosh you want to touch him so bad, you want to continue being close to him, yet you don't know how to ask permission for that without feeling beyond embarrassed.

As if he could read your thoughts, Josuke places one of his large hands firmly on your waist, somehow pressing you down further on his lap, which resulted into you gasping for air when you made contact with his crotch.

"I... Please, touch me however you want to.." The husky words leaving his mouth send shivers down your spine and onto your already throbbing cunt. You bite your lip, bringing your face into the place where his neck meets his shoulders and whine desperately into his ear.

You lick onto the smooth skin, biting once there and there and leaving occasional love marks. You suck on one special spot on his muscular neck, which leads to him grunting silently and bucking his hips up to yours.

"I want you, Josuke" You keen, carding your fingers through his hair on the back of his neck and tug slightly while humping onto his now hard bulge. You feel the outline of his cock digging into the plush of your pussy, pressing nicely against your clothed clit.

Moaning slightly, you pull back to take a look at your friends expression. His facial features have always been so defined and masculine, it was hard for you to hold back from licking a stripe over his cheek. Instead, you focus your attention on his plump lips.

You grind once more onto his twitching hard on, brushing over his upper back with your hands. Meeting his gaze, you gave him a desperate look "Kiss me, please kiss me, wanna taste you.."

"Mmh, o-oh fuck" Josuke groans, suddenly gripping you tightly by your waist and bringing your chest to his with force. He pecks your lips gently, experimenting with your actual desires at first.

You protest with a pout, and he reacts by chuckling smugly at the way you're so desperate. You reach over to kiss him on your own now. Your lips move against his mouth harshly, and you slip your tongue on his lips, trying to get him even closer than you already are.

You can't help the smile creeping on your face when he opens up, letting you take the lead and going with the flow while helping you grind still against his cock. You return to his neck, leaving wet kisses up and down to his chest, and you fist around with the end of his shirt.

"Take it off for me? Please" He hurriedly does as you say, breathing heavily and his black hair is now as messy as ever from your hands playing with it earlier. Strands of his hair cover his flushed face, covered in a thin layer of sweat.

Once his upper clothes are thrown mindlessly on the cold floor, you can do nothing but stare in awe at his anatomy. His huge muscle pecs and his perked up nipples are just begging for attention and you desperately grab onto the muscles around his nipples, gropling them.

"A-ah.. Please nng" Josuke begs, closing his eyes and rolling his head over in bliss. You feel his dick twitch hardly in his pants, letting you know just how much he enjoys this whole new spectre of emotions.

"You like it, don't you?" You tease, inching closer and sliding your tongue over his nipple. He moans loudly, clearly not expecting you to start sucking on his tits. It was something new for him, and yet he sure as hell enjoyed it a lot.

Josuke reached over and held on your hair, not knowing whether to bring your mouth closer or to pull you away. The feeling of your wet muscle playing with his sensitive skin while your fingers pinched and groped the other pec was too good for him to handle.

The bell has long since ringed announcing the end of the lunch break, yet both of you were too mind struck by the pleasure and arousal you were experiencing to give a single damn about it.

"Ohhh fuck yeah, m-more, don't stop" He sounds like a mindless whore, and God his voice was blissful. You were getting so wet that you could feel your own arousal seeping through the fabric of your pants.

You wanted to.. Fuck you wanted to feel him filling you up in all of them right places. Gently, you pulled back from his chest and massaged the bruises that were already starting to form there, all the while Josuke was pouting and complaining about you stopping your ministrations.

"Relax big boy, I'm not going anywhere." You sat up on your knees, taking off your lower clothing and rubbing your fingers onto your leaking cunt. "Mmm yess.." You moaned gently, watching the way Josuke was staring at the way your fingers worked over your core. Drool pooled out of the corner of his mouth, eyes shimmering with tears of need and craving for you.

"Come on, JoJo, please.. I need your cock inside of me, want you so bad.." You whined loudly, reaching down to fistle around with his belt. Once you disregarded him of it, he quickly unzipped his pants and pulled them down along with his boxers, pushing them down just enough for his cock to spring out.

Huge. It was fucking huge, the biggest and the thickest dick you have ever seen in your life. Heavy balls squishing against the waistband of his underwear and pretty glistening tip burning with desire.

You whimpered at the sight of it, bringing your hand up to your mouth and coating the palm of it with your spit, just to bring it back down and wrap your fist around his cock.

You gripped it tightly, spreading the saliva on his red tip and using it as lube. You give it firm and slow strokes, squeezing at his tip and fisting down at the base of it.

He was so thick that your hand couldnt even close right around it. Sliding his cock against your dripping wet pussy, you push the tip of his cock inside of you and your mouth opens in a silent scream.

The stretch was unreal, it was expected tho looking at the size he was gifted with. But the expressions he was making as your walls squeezed at his cock tightly were totally worth the feeling.

"Ahh, fuck please.. Y-you're so tight, God" Josuke thrusted his hips up, getting half way in all at once and you screamed. It hurt, yet for gods sake did it hurt so good. "Feels so good, wan' more" He pushed your hips down with his hands in one swift motion, bottoming out inside of you completely.

You gasped as you fell on his chest, hands grasping helplessly at his broad muscular shoulders while you could do nothing but whimper and sob at the immense stretch his cock had on your cunt.

"Ohhh shit, so fucking good. Just like that" Without even giving you a moment to adjust, he started pulling out of you, just to push back in with all the force he had. You moaned loudly, biting onto his neck hard and for surely leaving a mark there.

"Josuke, p-please.. Wait, ugh- it's too much" You pleaded, leaving crescent marks on his pale skin while gripping tightly at his bare back. Josuke chuckles, deep voice sending trembles down your spine.

"I've already waited long enough for this" You're stunned at the way his behavior immediately changed, his voice being rougher than usually as he grabs at your ass and starts pounding in and out of you, balls slapping against your skin.

"I've wanted this for so long.." He continues, grasping at your hair suddenly and pulling you back from his neck, making eye contact with you. ".. Fucked my fist to memories of you for so long" He licks his lips before kissing you roughly and biting at your lips.

His tongue licks over your own, desperate panting sharing between the two of you as he still fucks you dumbly. When he finally pulls away, his cheeks are rosy deep, sweat trickling down his neck and forehead and you moan out at his unfocused eyes.

You're lost in the pleasure as you realize, you're able to feel him, to see him like this, all vulnerable and so fucking deep into you. Not anyone else, not those annoying girls always trying to get his attention, its you who can touch and grasp at his perfect skin and features.

You whimper, letting your head fall down as you're only able to sit there and take whatever pleasure he gives you. Yet josuke won't have this, he squishes your cheeks together and lifts your face up, smirking all the while "Look at me, look at your best friend fucking you"

Josuke focuses on the way your face contorts into pleasure, and the way his slick cock is sliding in and out of you is so sinful he can't help but throw his head back and moan out shamelessly.

In the heat of the moment, you grab onto the hand that's keeping your head in place, bringing his attention back to you while his cock ruins your insides. You look straight into his eyes, smiling dumbly, trying to somehow tell him how good it feels even tho your mind is just a puddle of nothing.

Josuke's expression softens at that, and he brings down his hand to play at your clit "Come on pretty, cum on my dick." He flicks and presses down on it, repeating the same motions at an immense speed "Do it for me, right? Do it baby, f-fuck"

His cock is reaching deep inside of you, all the while his fingers are abusing your clit and the sounds that leave his mouth bring you all over the edge and you collapse down onto his shoulders, clenching so tightly on his fat cock and hugging him while you shake and wither around him

"Y-yeah.. Just like that, s-so fucking cute, " Josuke whines out, gritts his teeth and makes a few more lazy thrusts of his cock as it twitches inside of you, and he pulls out quickly, pressing your chests together and jerking off his hard, wet dick before spurting out thick ropes of white cum on your back.

He heaves out, moaning out one last time and pumping his softening cock some more times before relaxing against the wall. He rolls his head up, looking at the blank white ceiling and closing his eyes, smiling at the feeling of your soft breath tickling his skin.

"You're crazy, JoJo, absolutely shameless" You laugh, punching his chest slightly and looking up at him. He chuckles, that deep voice of his you love so much resonating through his chest. "Yeah sure, like you're not the one who just made me cum in a fucking school closet."

"Couldnt help it, I got tired of the bitches trying to hit on you." You confess, gently rubbing his chest and sighing softly. "I had to do it first before they had the chance to" Josuke lifts your face by your chin, giving you a quick peck on the lips and resting his forehead on yours.

"They never had a chance in the first place, Y/n" His words sounded so sincere, filled with nothing but innocence and trust. He blushes lightly "I've always liked you.. Since the first day we started being "friends""

You smiled, happiness filling your heart up as you cuddle up against him and get comfortable before Josuke pushes you away "Hey, don't forget we're still in the school closet, we should start cleaning up here until someone sees us"

"Crap" You look around at the clothes lying on the floor and the drops of cum there that leaked from your back already strating to dry out "You're right on that"

#fanfic #reader insert #fanfiction #josuke smut #josuke 4 #jjba part 4 #josuke higashitaka #josuke x you #jjba x reader #josuke x y/n #jjba smut #jojo no kimyou na bouken #josuke higashikata

2K notes · View notes

bookishjules · 3 months

Note

wait. jace and izzy tried something romantic at some point?? i do not remember that 😭 i don’t like that

anyway

i completely agree with jace and izzy having those conversations they wouldn’t wanna have with alec! poor alec is very awkward when it comes to talking about romance and feelings. i could def see jace and izzy being like hey…. if you ever need protection…. i have it. (kinda like how izzy was to clary in cofa)

some insight into their relationship is in the end of the bane chronicles with magnus’s voicemail. izzy talks about how some guy left a dear jane letter for her and jace found it and went after the guy (after she already got her revenge of course)

also in tfsa, it suggests that izzy talked to jace about date ideas and the thought of her discussing her issues with simon to jace is absolutely hilarious to me

they did!! i can't remember when it's mentioned exactly, but it's never touched on in detail. i can only assume they were like 12/13 when they tried something because they were like the only boy/girl they could kiss and they both had their hormones going crazy and were feeling like doing some preteen experimenting lol they met when they were ten and like yeah they're like siblings now but they're also not really siblings yk? like its fine. cute even hehe just kids being kids.

i second the points about protection etc. tho. like with how they both pass alec in a few different areas of development, i feel like they'd have a habit of each watching out for the other, whether its in regard to demon battles or sex lives. which i guess is also proven by that bit in tbc hehe i'd totally forgotten about that!! it's been over a decade since i read the majority of tbc.

it is so funny to think about izzy trying to talk with jace about simon in general, but esp asking for advice hehe i love it bc as much as jace acts like he's above simon and teases him jovially, he absolutely cares about him, and because of course he cares about izzy too and he's had a front row seat to the torment that she'd been through during the sizzy dark ages... like of course he's going to be genuine and try to talk through things with her as much as he can (around the joking of course because that's just inevitable). ugh i love them all sm <3

#jace herondale #isabelle lightwood #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #asks #anon <3 #vetted

9 notes · View notes

rainintheevening · 1 year

Note

Realizing it is really fun to leave asks in people's boxes so...

What are your favorite Anakin and Obi-Wan head canons? Why do you think Anakin and Padme fell in love? *chins hands, waiting with excitement*

Ooh, thanks! Love these questions!

Anakin and Obi-Wan headcanons? Oh, dear, where do I stop? XD

-The first time they hugged was on Naboo, after Obi-Wan told him how Qui-Gon was dead. Obi-Wan was steady, but he definitely had tears in his eyes, and it hurt to see Anakin’s excitement over the space battle drain away so swiftly. Obi-Wan was crouched down to talk to him face-to-face and Anakin threw his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck, surprising Obi-Wan, before Obi-Wan hugged him back.

-Anakin and Obi-Wan can sense each other's lightsabers like their own. (Anakin stronger and more accurately, of course.)

-They have each picked up the other's lightsaber on the battlefield and used both at least once.

-They've slept together a lot. During his first year at the Temple, Anakin would end up going to Obi-Wan’s room in the middle of most nights for various reasons. They had some of their best and most honest conversations in the dark, curled up together in Obi-Wan’s bed. It became less common as he got truly settled in, and then stopped altogether when Anakin hit his teens. But after the war started, they started... drifting back together in the nights. Especially planetside, they would lie back-to-back, and sleep much sounder that way. Oddly enough, Obi-Wan was the one most likely to turn over and curl into Anakin’s back. But during war nights they never talked.

-Anakin taught Obi-Wan how to make the one sweet thing his mom had been able to afford to make: sun cookies. It's the simplest cookie imaginable, but Obi-Wan can tell what it means for Anakin to have some bit of knowledge to share. There were a few times that Anakin was either very sorry for something he'd said, or super grateful for something Obi-Wan had done, and snuck off to the Temple kitchen to make some for his master. Obi-Wan also got into the habit of making them for Anakin’s birthday.

-Obi-Wan once called Anakin’s escapades 'shenanakins' sarcastically, but Anakin actually liked it, and used the term to annoy him. (The term spread through the 501st and 212th, till it was in the lexicon of the entire 3rd Systems Army.)

-The first time Anakin truly lost his temper with Obi-Wan, when he'd been at the Temple about half a year, he lashed out and accidentally threw Obi-Wan across the room into the wall. Obi-Wan didn't force Anakin to look at his resulting bruises, but he didn't try to hide them either. Anakin insisted on nursing him for the next day or too, to apologize. The incident scared him badly and he was careful never to strike out at Obi-Wan in anger again.

-They both smile involuntarily at the sound of the other's laugh.

Okay, you can stop me anytime...

I think about Anakin and Padmé far less, I'm afraid.😅 So what I think about them falling in love is drier and less interesting. I'm still developing my takes on them. But here's something:

Well, little boys always fall in love at first sight. Padmé didn't see that as a possibility till she met the awkward 20-year-old version.

Padmé reminds Anakin of the best of his mom, mixed up with a love of danger that fits with his. Anakin is, well, a hot mess and that is totally Padmé's style.

I think one of the most fateful moments for them is when they have that 'diplomatic solution' and 'aggressive negotiations' exchange in the arena on Geonosis. To me that is when Anakin went, "I want this. I want all of this. I want the excitement of being with her, AND of being a Jedi."

Basically, they fell in love because they each had the right screws loose to attract the other. Which is part of what doomed them, of course.

But I do think, if they'd had time, if the war had ended, and the secrets had ended, and they put in the work, they could have built a really good marriage. And that's what we write fix-its for. :)

Also: Galloping grasshoppers, but 'That Would Be Enough' from Hamilton is maybe the best Padmé to Anakin song ever. Almost cried, listening to it for the first time today.

#thanks so much #this was very fun #i could talk about the boys all day #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #padme amidala #my headcanons #asked and answered #star wars

15 notes · View notes

crisalidaseason · 2 years

Text

I have to get this idea out of my system. I HAVE TO.

The blooms of our mind

Summary: Armin and Erwin's eldest daughter meet.

Content warning: spoilers for season 3, mentions of mental illness, mentions of not wanting to be alive, Armin is very mean with himself, mentions of someone's death, Armin being whipped, the boy is crushing haaard, Hange being a scheming mf. Can be a reader insert, but reader uses she/her pronouns (and also has a nickname), no description of physical appearance though!

When Armin was given the second chance at life, he never felt more betrayed. He chose to die, he wanted the death of a hero, he wanted to die knowing he took the colossal titan down and avenged his entire hometown and lost childhood. When he came back, the sacrifice was useless, it lost its meaning. Since his second awakening, he never felt more sad and undeserving of life.

That is until he met her.

One day, like many others, he joined Hange in a meeting at Sina. Hange had a habit of doing many things on the way to a serious appointment, which drove Levi mad and made Armin even more anxious. That day in particular, they asked Armin to pick up an order while they prepared for the meeting. The address given by the commander was a simple building with nothing to give a clue of what it was.

"Hello" he said to a woman at the front desk "I've come to pick up documents for Commander Hange Zoe from the Survey Corps"

The lady did not even look at him before speaking:

"Library, the door at the end of the corridor. Call for Miss Smith"

Armin did as he was told. And that day, that single day Hange needed extra help, changed his life forever. When he called for the name, a beautiful young woman appeared at the desk. She was dressed formal and basic, her entire being held an aura of elegance and also kindness.

"Hello, sir, may I help you?"

He stuttered a lot that day, but was able to get the documents for Hange. He later learned that those documents were actually calculations for a new weapon Hange wanted to develop. The commander showed him all the complicated mathematics and intricate details of the project drawn on the sheets, made by Miss Smith herself.

"That girl never misses" Hange said, still impressed "You know, the two of you would make a lovely duo with your overdeveloped brains."

He looked at the beautifull handwriting and calculations, all the details those delicate hands drew on the page. He was afraid that his brain would short cirtuit if he saw Miss Smith again.

And he did short circuit. Hange called him on a random afternoon to discuss some plans of action to expand Wall Maria territory, upon arriving on the commander's quarters he found Miss Smith herself sitting on a chair.

"Oh, hello mister Arlert"

If he was awkward their first meeting, he was even worse that second time. The girl smiled throughout the entire conversation, as if Armin's communication issues were amusing. He saw her calculate something for Hange on the spot, her brain working faster than her hands. Armin was in awe watching her explaining her points, seeing how she eloquently detailed every change necessary and proving them with those wonderful numbers.

Miss Smith left that day asking if she could speak with Armin over tea. He was confused, so confused, that such impressive woman would want to speak with him, but he accepted right away. Something about her was impossible to ignore.

"I know you must be worried, but she is the kindest soul" Hange said after the girl left "she would never...you know, blame you"

"What do you mean?" Armin asked.

Hange looked at him, a little surprised.

"You didn't connect the dots? Wow, you're crushing hard, boy" Hange laughed softly, but their face soon turned serious "she is his daughter, Armin, Erwin's eldest"

And with that, all his excitement towards their speak-over-tea turned into the worst anxiety ridden days he ever experienced, and he was a soldier for the wall's sake! He supposed the surname should have ringed a bell, but he never knew the previous commander had any children or even family alive.

Eren and Mikasa were trying to understand why he was more nervous than usual, but Armin was a little ashamed to share what happened. He was tired of the pitying eyes, the walking on eggshells whenever Erwin was briefly mentioned in a room. Armin was tired of being the spotlight of any sort of discussion, and now he seemed to be the center of almost everything.

The day Miss Smith scheduled finally arrived, and Armin also did, way earlier than he should. He was sitting in a small teashop in Wall Rose, waiting for his companion to arrive.

"I hope I am not late" her voice sounded like wind chimes "have I kept you waiting for long?"

Armin pathetically stuttered when she appeared in front of him:

"No, I arrived earlier. I had some errands to run for Hange around this area and decided to wait here"

He stood, pulling the other chair and offering for her to sit.

"What a busy man" she said.

They talked about the most mundane things, which Armin was so relieved for. He learned about her passion and love for mathematics and astronomy, she asked about his interests and any book recomendations he might have for her. They spoke about mutual authors and books they have read. Armin felt the strange bubbling of excitement on his chest. When was the last time he spoke about something he loved without having to summarize and simplify everything? It's not like his friends were stupid, but they surely were not so interested on his latest obsession.

"Thank you for accepting my invitation, mister Arlert" she said at one point "I had a feeling you would be very interesting, and I was not wrong"

He tried, really tried not to blush, but failed.

"Thank you, Miss"

"Call me Nadi"

"Isn't it too informal?"

"I'd like to believe we already are very informal despite you wearing uniform"

"In this case, if you call me Armin, I will call you Nadi"

"Deal, Armin"

"Deal, Nadi"

Armin went back to the Survey headquarters that day with his head on the clouds. On his pocket, a piece of paper with Nadi's post office box, which made sending letters easier for Armin. He would later take that piece of paper and put it in an envelope, in hopes to preserve the ink of her pen and her beautifull handwriting. He wondered if she would also do the same with his piece of paper, or was he the only one completely struck by their interaction?

Armin stared at his ceiling that night, smiling for the first time in months.

&&&

Part two

#pls this was eating me alive for days #a little self indulgent ngl #but i hope it's your cup of tea too #armin arlert #armin fanfic #armin x reader #armin x you #aot x reader #aot x yn #aot x you

30 notes · View notes

creoterative · 2 years

Note

What HC do you yave regarding your favourite characters and your OC (btw Quetzal is cute 🥰!)?

Yeeeeessss, the first REAL Request, hehehe xD

Alright, I got a TON of headcanons for them, but I won't show them in order (because I don't have one), so please forgive me the mess. Also I won't do all of them, because that would be a bit much, considering that I don't want to give you five headcanons each, nah, I wanna give you a full list, hehe.

Soooo, Li Ling, Raven, Quetzal, that's what I got so far ^^

Thank you so much for asking by the way, I hope you enjoy it and feel free to tell me about your thoughts on these!

Li Ling

-Because of the changes in the official artwork for him, I think that he has some sort of battle vision. When he rests and is calm, his eyes can retain the white, but when he gets angry or is in a fight, it turns to black. That allows him to anticipate an opponents movements.

-He sometimes makes fun of Drew, walking like the mummies in old movies do and this typical egyptian walk, just because he hates Drew's serious attitude. He respects his powers, and if he was in need of advice, he wouldn't be too proud to ask Drew. He just doesn't like people with etiquette since he himself grew up quite privileged and he tries to hide that. (Most of the time)

-Also Raven always scolds him for making fun of Drew. Raven scolds him for almost everything he does, so that's no surprise.

-Li Ling likes beer. He once tried it after his norse collegues had one in the evening and at first it wasn't really something he'd call enjoyable, but after trying several types, he discovered this one brand, that he really really likes. So now he demands to get one of those every time they get together after a hard day of work.

-He subconsciously developed a very weird sleeping position to avoid laying on his arms. After Brynn asked him about it, he thought to much about it and since then he can't figure out how to sleep anymore. He had to get Celine to sing some songs to him, so that he could actually get some sleep again.

-He can be extremely scary with his dark eyes and he knows it. Although he'd never use it on a child, because secretly he enjoys their company. He'd never tell anyone that he likes kids, that doesn't fit into his "Bad Boy Image".

-His hair is actually pretty soft and he takes good care of it. Raven likes to play with it when they are together in the elevator or at a meeting. Not that Li Ling approves of that, but he doesn't want to get that typical mom look from her.

-By now, he secretly accepts Raven as his mentor-mom and it happened more than once, that he talked to her and called her mom instead of Raven. But, like, the entire conversation. And she proudly accepted that.

-It's surprising, but he meditates a lot.

-He has parent issues. Big ones. He got whatever he wanted from them except time, the most important thing, so now he may be independent, but he longs for some sort of parential comfort, to which Raven is the closest.

-Li Ling has this weird habit where he makes noises when he's experiencing a little bit of joy and fun. If you tell him a good joke, he'll do a little huff instead of laughing. If he sees Lewis trip and fall down the stairs, he makes this awkward giggle sound. You can rarely hear him laugh out loud, but once people get used to his 'joy-language', it's fine.

-I think he doesn't really care about romance, although he'd be supportive, if one of his friends got a partner. He's the type to mind his own business and not be bothered by flirts towards him. And if others are in a relationship, he's like "cool" and let's them be. He'd only mock Lewis or Xuan sometimes, if they ever get a partner/partners, but that's just teasing amongst friends.

-He has fangs. And he hisses, when something isn't going the way he wants it. Also he growls, when he's very angry, especially in a fight, brings out his wild fighting nature. Raven even calls him "Rottie" from time to time.

Raven

-She's such a mechanic. Always trying to make her bike a bit better, always trying to get a better WiFi connection in the HQ... She can fix anything, and if she can't, then she'll be damned if she doesn't figure it out as fast as she can.

-Raven can't sleep without music, she's always listening to something, although it's not loud at all. Knowing subconsiously, that there's some kind of melody makes her feel calm and relaxed. Li Ling started to pick up that habit as well, but instead of listening to rain sounds or old folk songs, he listens to metal before going to bed. Yes.

-She hates people, who disobey orders, so at first she really wanted to throw some punches with Li Ling, but after realizing, that he wanted to but just didn't know how, she decided to take him under her wing and teach him all the stuff, he needed to know. Starting with an easy training program for puppies. "You do this, then you get this." Thus, the 80 rules of Raven were established and Li Ling learned to behave. Most of the time.

-Her favorite ice cream flavor is vanilla and Raven loves the scent as well, so she has a jar of vanilla beans in her room. So if she wants to relax a bit, she takes some of them and lits them up or blends them into a shake etc.

-Her clothes are all made with a certain velvety fabric underneath because she likes the comfy feeling. Also her bed is covered in those.

-She smokes pipe. Fight me on this, but she loves the old style and her dad did it, so to keep her memory of him, she picked something up, that he always did. And it can't really hurt her anymore, so no health risk as well. (And everybody laughed at her until they found out the reason, then they just gave her awkward stares)

-In general, she likes old clothes and habits. At first, people make fun of her, but after a while, she just rocks this style so much, that it's becoming one with her and then everybody just stares at her, not knowing how she does this.

-Raven is that type of person, who works a whole day and nobody would expect her to be able to just sit and stare at the wall. But if nobody reminds her to breathe, she'd probably even forget that once she starts staring at somebody or a wall.

Quetzal

(am thinking about calling him Aarón to be honest, means 'Great fighter' or 'The enlightened One')

-He's a funky guy, always up for a party or just a good time in general. So he makes stupid jokes the whole day, so many, that it starts to annoy people by the middle of the day.

-Aarón loves his wings, he snuggles into them, he loves to just stroke them with his hands, you can almost always catch him playing with at least one feather.

-He's a kind, but pretty smug guy. He knows his powers and how to use them since he's been an Esper for a decade now, that gives him a huge confidence boost.

-Triki and Aarón love to pull off crazy pranks, sometimes Q comes along with them too.

-Odette has become one of his best friends, they balance each other out quite well and even though she can get very annoyed by him, he always tries to get that warm heart of hers out. Not in a romantic way, Aarón just loves to see the people's true nature.

-He grew up in Peru, wasn't the best life he lived there, but his family managed as best they could. So he knows what it's like to live on the edge and he hates it when people get spoiled and act accordingly. (*cough* Li Ling *cough*)

-An open minded guy, he uses his wings to fly across the whole globe and visit other places, different countries and, of course, to eat something from everywhere. Yeah, the guy likes food like no other. Give him a hot dog and he's your friend.

-He's no genius, but in battle he's not to be taken lightly. If he gets angry, the whole wrath of Quetzalcoatl bursts out of him. And that winged snake ate humans.

-Aarón can be quite hyperactive and appear out of nowhere, but he never misses his midday naptime. It's just one hour, but that hour is something he almost values as much as Christmas.

-Yes, Christmas. Since he's been all over the world, he picked up a lot of traditions and nice habits from other countries, but he wanted one, where almost every country had at least an equivalent to, so that he could (eat as much candy as he wanted) try to feel like a part of all of them. He even tried to fast, but then he had too little self-control to continue.

Aaaaan that was it for now. Thank you so much for the request, again, was fun making these ;)

Have a lovely day and stay safe out there!

#dislyte #dislyte headcanons #dislyte li ling #dislyte raven #dislyte oc #christmas

2 notes · View notes

italoniponic · 2 years

Note

Could i request headcanons of ace, kalim and floyd trying to court their introverted crush who seems to avoid people like idia? (But without the weeb otaku side) thank you ❤️

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

| Notes: Hi, anon!

I tried to do my best with this one. But even though I’m also an introvert, I realized that… wow I never had thought about how I would like to be courted by an extroverted person. And I’m not the best at flirting so, it’s more like the boys trying to be good with you, showing you that they’re worth it and helping you with the normal introvert struggles. Ace was the best of them, tbh. I hope I didn’t disappoint you much

Thanks for the request <3 |

Ace Trappola, Kalim Al Asim, Floyd Leech x g!n introvert reader / crush / use of "you" pronouns

Cherry's Harvesting event 🍒 Masterlist

Being Intro is Very Extra

It took you a while to get used to Ace. You both got off to a bad start and it took a long journey of near-death experiences, loss of your dorm property and attacks on the school to make you develop a good and firm friendship with him. And that's exactly what made Ace like you more and more;

In a way, Ace was always surrounded by people who had a humor and personality very similar to his. But you liked to have your space, you didn’t like so much to get close to others and you were very reserved. So it was calm to be by your side and he felt comfortable talking to you because you listened to him and didn’t tease him with anything. Your consideration seemed more sincere to him;

But who said falling in love with an introverted person is easy? Ace tried to ask you out a few times — without saying it was meant to be a date, of course — but you always gave the same excuse that you didn't like to go out. This forced him to find a new way to get to you. So he had a genius idea! Having dates at Ramshackle, disguised as a study session only between the two of you;

Ace tries to include you more in conversations, asking your opinion on things and slowly leading you to comment more on your own world. To the surprise of both of you, there are things that you are very similar to or have been through familiar situations. This comfortable air begins to form between you, as if you understand each other in a very special way;

Ace also began to offer himself, in the most subtle way possible, to help you with things. Carrying books, knowing a good product to buy in the Mystery Shop, being able to pass by others to get the best lunch. Even saying things to people when you just can't say anything;

The times you laugh at something, Ace always comments that you have a good laugh to hear. But only for you, without anyone hearing or noticing. That's because he doesn't want to embarrass you or make the situation awkward. It always catches you by surprise and you end up quiet, but smiling to yourself;

Ace usually uses Jack or Jamil as parameters of how to act with you. If they can feel good about something, then it should work with you too. This is how he began to make a habit of looking you in the eye when you speak, paying attention to your words and showing interest. Which is good because when it seems like no one cares, there's Ace showing otherwise;

Ace has learned the hard way that the best solution sometimes is to let you have your time alone to relax. He takes this time to think better about how to talk to you and finally confess. He wants you to know that you can count on him, even if your personalities are quite different;

In this, when you talk to each other again, Ace already has a topic up his sleeve to capture your interest: whether it's a movie you two like, a common concern, or simply complaining about people. There is something really comfortable about doing things smoothly without the pressure of large groups around you and having a timeout for things. Everything has a beginning, middle and end. And you've been enjoying hanging up with Ace more than you think;

The times you are alone at the Ramshackle, the conversations come and go with good timezones. Silence is appreciated, with you concentrating on studying, watching a movie, reading or playing some game. And then, having patiently won your trust, talks began to last longer than before;

On the journey of getting to know you better, Ace ends up revealing more of himself as well and it fascinated you much more than he imagined. Listening to his family stories, knowing the things he likes and understanding each of his layers made you realize that Ace Trappola was much more than that jerk who teased you on day one. Who knew, right? Ace managed to steal your heart. And you very happily facilitated it.

You might not share Idia's hobbies, but there was one thing you agreed with: Kalim was the greatest among extroverts. A real summer sun. Not even sunshine, he was the whole star... yeah, you could tell. So meeting him for the first time was really overwhelming at first;

Kalim is that kind of person who has a lifetime battery. Parties and crowds of people are essentially what make him happy. So, although he always makes sure of inviting you to the parties, you are forced to reject him. Just the thought of being in the midst of so many people makes you lose enthusiasm and will;

Because of your good patience and compassion with Kalim, especially in those moments when he needs it most and doesn’t have the courage to talk to Jamil, you have become a very special person for him. And this is how Kalim not only realized that he was in love with you, but also that you are more different than he imagined;

Kalim's mother has already spoken to him about this a couple of times. In the Land of Hot Sands, wealthy families tend to arrange the marriage of their children from an early age and although Kalim never got involved in this because his parents were waiting for the right age, these things all start with a feast. But you don't like parties with lots of people and you probably weren't the type to dance in public;

Quite a challenge... luckly, Kalim likes fun challenges! He feels like in the tale of the Princess and the Street-Rat, needing to find ways to make you see beyond his status in order to get closer. So Kalim sits down to plan something himself;

Kalim's goal is not to get your attention but, rather, to make you feel comfortable and happy to be by his side — apparently, it is the number one rule of any relationship. So he always makes a point of expressing his support in everything you do and compliments you when you do something amazing;

Obviously, Kalim takes a while to measure his own words and enthusiasm, especially when it gets people's attention and makes you — inexplicably, in his eyes — nervous. Silver ends up helping him come up with ideas on how to do things for you. Simplicity may be the best way, after all. So instead of people surrounding you, now there are little doves that follow Kalim and you when you are alone. Not the most normal thing but better than people, I guess?;

Kalim is not exactly the role model of subtlety so you know from the beginning that he is trying to court you. “Why?,” that's what you want to ask the most. This is because, among other things, Kalim starts to go to the Ramshackle to ask for your help in cooking and cleaning. These are simple tasks but he wants to train and show you that he can be a useful husband for you in the future;

Did you really think you would escape receiving gifts from Kalim? You're wrong. But while it is uncomfortable for some people to have someone spending money on them, Kalim usually buys things that interest you or are part of your hobbies. He buys and receives it himself, not giving you the trouble of having to get it at the school mailbox or the city post office. “That is: free to interact with people!,” Kalim would exclaim, smiling;

Because Kalim began to spend more time with you, he learned to deal with silence and stillness. It’s a bit better than he expected and there is fun in just watching what you are doing. You enjoy his company by itself, even if Kalim doesn’t say anything. Maybe because his gaze is enough to make you feel better and it makes you happy more than anything else;

To make up for all Kalim's effort, you agree to stay at least five minutes at the banquet he has prepared. It's a worthy sacrifice for this little, electric angel who loves you too much. And to your surprise, Kalim has reserved a good place for you at the party. Away from the loud sound, away from the constant dances and the cluster of people talking, open to the wonderful starry sky and only having Kalim himself as company on that magic carpet. Because, after all, you are better than any party.

Floyd wasn’t the type to respect other people's personal space and because he calls you “Koebi-chan” on a daily basis, you have basically catched his interest which for many people may be a curse but, perhaps for you it is a blessing. Maybe?;

Floyd understanding that he is in love with you is much easier than it seems. You cheer him up in a very specific way, unlike anyone else. Floyd likes your introverted side and the fact that you prefer to stay away from others. He can understand what it's like to just not want to get involved with things and thrown yourself around — what happens when he's in a bad mood;

You became Floyd's constant target for a long time, with him following you up and down. When you stop to rest in the courtyard, away from others, there he is throwing himself on the lawn and wanting to be near you. If you occasionally answer something, there is even a conversation developing there, one in which Floyd contributes a good part just by telling about the things he discovered out there or his regular day;

But he obviously gets bored with your lack of reaction after a while and decides to leave you alone, looking for something to do himself. A small shrimp that keeps running away from you all the time and when caught, becomes completely inert is... well, boring, by Floyd's standards. But you are the person he loves the most! There has to be a way to make it work;

Jade is at the same time the solution and difficulty of these problems. At the request of his brother, he came up with several interesting ideas on how to get closer to you and make sure that you like him more to spend time together, but Floyd finds everything too complicated. “Oya, love is hard, Floyd,” Jade chuckles to himself. “Focus on what you like most about your... oh, how do you say? Koebi-chan~”;

Floyd thinks about it for a long time and finally, he decides to try it. What worse could happen? Everything go wrong? In the end, it's like a school test. There are times Floyd can push himself and get good grades, mainly because the pressure of getting it right just flies out of his head. You seem to do the same thing with him. Even if it's for a moment, staying by your side awakens two things: energy and relaxation;

Floyd reappears to stand by your side, a little quieter — but not entirely, of course — and willing to listen to you, especially your complaints. It was a terrible trap to fall into. That's because what started as a grumble about classes in one day grew over time and before you knew it, Floyd was a personal listener. A listener who also went by the tangent of his own problems but, this was a good escape to rest your voice and chill for a bit;

When Floyd is not with you, he is usually preventing others from bothering your personal moment. You've talked more than once how talking to people for a long time is bothersome and although Floyd doesn't literally throw people out of your way, he guides you to the best places in school to relax. These are comfortable places that only he knows and usually goes when he is bored;

You never imagined having a moody extrovert as your personal guard or someone who makes people think twice before complaining that “you talk too low” or “you need to get out more”. It's really weird and for a long time you don't know what to think about it. At least Floyd pushes people away from you and... honestly, is it even good sometimes?;

Once, Floyd came to sleep near you. You couldn't tell if that was on purpose or if he was really tired, but he was very quiet next to you. It felt good even. People don’t understand that a good company is not necessarily someone who talks in your ears until you get tired and yes, someone interesting to talk to and good to have next in a more quiet and chill time;

Oh, damn, you like him. This realization feels like head-banging on the deck of a ship. But Floyd may be a more useful companion than one can first think about. With his power of intimidation, your introverted personality can emerge without fear or great concern. But it can happen that Floyd picks you up and throws you into his messes, it's something to keep a close eye on. You laugh a little sometimes. Floyd and you will always stay in this tug of war between the stillness of introversion and the hustle and bustle of extroversion.

#twisted wonderland #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #kalim al asim #kalim al asim x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #twst imagines #twst x reader #twst headcanons #introvert reader #cherry's writing #cherry's harvesting

213 notes · View notes

boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

@buckyownsmylife hey babe! Remember that one time you threw that cool challenge? Here's my entry. Prepare to get absolutely ruined because daddy!Bruce is exactly that sort of man.

main masterlist ☀️ taglist

emotional support nerd

Your best friend's dad, Dr. Bruce Banner, is hotter than you thought he would be. 6k words, NSFW. Kind of Alt!Reader - she refers to herself as 'goth' in one instance. Tony Stark makes an appearance because God forbid I write a fanfic without him in it.

This is filthy pron, ft. age difference (reader is college aged) daddy kink, throat fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, cream pie, possessiveness, belly bulge and ending with a hint at a threesome. I really crammed all I could from Eyre's wheel in here, didn't I. Oh well.

"How much longer, dad?" Lyra's annoyed voice struck a chord within me. I tried to hide my snickering - unsuccessfully might I add - causing my best friend to shoot me a hurt look, equally fed up with me as she was fed up with her forgetful adopted father. "You know what, we'll take the subway."

Lyra's father's voice, both agitated and apologetic, reached my ears in bitten-off phrases as the traffic noises around us grew in volume, NYC rush hour rapidly approaching its peak.

With a sound huff, Lyra removed the phone from her ear, staring me down with the most amount of petulance I've ever seen on her usually reserved, placid face. "It's twenty more minutes. Apparently he's driving Tony's car," she offered in the way of explanation, like it actually did anything to better the cold, wet situation we found ourselves in. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, please don't be weird."

I felt a flood of amusement at Lyra's pleading tone. "Darling, if you wanted a normal friend, you should have looked elsewhere," I gestured to my outfit. I looked like a goth boy's wet dream: chunky platformed boots, fishnets, heavy eyeliner. Of course, all in black.

"You know what I mean," she whined, waving off my pointing hand and fixing me with a hard stare. "The least my dad needs is someone that is terrified of him just because sometimes he turns into a big green monkey. It's not as exciting as internet thinks, anyway," the last part of the sentence was mumbled but I heard it nonetheless as Lyra stared out into the traffic, clever eyes looking for a particular car model.

What Lyra didn't know was that I was not at all considering to be terrified by the man who dosed himself with radiation and developed an advanced version of split personality disorder. I could be intimidated by him, sure, because he was incredibly intelligent, a world class scientist with more PhDs than I had zeroes in my bank account, but even despite his green problem, Dr. Bruce Banner was about as far away from 'scary' as a man could be.

The few scarce pictures of him on the internet showed a short, stocky man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper curls, always dressed in un-ironed, crumpled button-ups with dorky patterns. Looking at him, I mused that there was a high chance he spoke with a stutter and that fact amused me to no end. Jekyll and Hyde, alright.

Lyra was much the same way. Shy and reclusive, with curly brown hair and doe eyes, she spent a good chunk of her first semester in college being avoided by everybody because of her last name; I, on the other hand, avoided everyone out of habit, I'd never been a social butterfly, but the way people subtly made sure to exclude Lyra from all the activities filled me with quiet, seething rage, and I stepped over my general distaste of people and removed my bag from the seat next to me so Lyra could at least study in relative peace.

Yeah, yeah, you've heard it all, I'm sure. Weird goth chick adopts a socially awkward, shunned nerd and they become best friends forever. I had to admit that under the shy exterior, Lyra was smart, witty and even funny sometimes. She was willing to entertain my crude jokes without moaning, at least, and I was perfectly okay with listening to her rant about science every now and then.

Rain banged on the slanted roof of the café we were hiding in, the autumn wind howled, making both of us shiver at the prospect of having to go outside, even if it was for a short moment to run to Lyra's dad's car. The day had started out warm and sunny, but much like a badly calculated chemical formula, it all went downhill a split second after we had set out to leave campus.

"There he is," the grouch in Lyra's expression had me once again unsuccessfully attempting to conceal my snorting.

Nonetheless, I followed her out into the rain, struggling to keep up with the brisk running in my platformed shoes, unceremoniously crawling into the car behind her without sparing a glance at the driver in my eagerness to get out of the freezing downpour.

"Hi, dad," Lyra's tired voice spoke up at the same time as I angrily shook out my hair.

"I've just about McFuckin' had it with New York," I was afraid the dye in my hair would bleed out into my clothes, or even worse, the nice, cream-colored car seats.

"Hello, ladies," the voice that greeted us was low, gravelly and apologetic to boot.

My eyes shot up, meeting an expression full of surprise and amusement. I stared at the shockingly handsome face of Dr. Bruce Banner like a deer in the headlights.

The fine mimic wrinkles had stretched into a resemblance of a smile, soft, plush lips revealing a set of straight, white teeth. The five o'clock shadow framed his jaw, giving it a sharp, defined edge, his clever brown eyes slid down my form, faltering on the pentagram on my belt and my fishnet-covered legs, settling on my chunky boots before hastily snapping back up to my face.

"Dad, this is..." Lyra's voice was full of suspicious bewilderment as she attempted to dissipate the sudden awkwardness.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can call me Doc or Bruce," he cleared his throat, turning himself towards the windshield and starting up the car.

"Nice to meet you," I busied myself with putting away any stray hair just to occupy myself with something during the time I needed to recuperate from being just... Looked at by Lyra's dad.

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was so taken aback by his handsomeness and his aura of a gentle but powerful man that the ride to Stark tower, however swift, went on in slightly awkward silence. The streets outside were, thankfully, noisy, and the lack of an attempt to have a conversation could easily be attributed to Bruce's need to focus on the road, but Lyra's increasingly concerned looks did very little to settle the sudden racing of my heart.

"C'mon, I'll give you some sweats so you can let your..." Lyra's vague gesture towards my upper body disappeared behind her side of the door. "Hey, Tony," she suddenly interrupted her sentence, very obviously addressing another person who I managed to miss as Bruce parked in the spacious garage.

"I've been told you're finally bringing your friend, Green Pea," a voice I'd heard a thousand times on the TV poked fun at Lyra.

She bent down to retrieve her bag, shooting big eyes at me and mouthing an exaggerated "Sorry!"

Tony Stark looked about a week in debt on sleep, a contrast to the way he usually appeared in public. The exaggerated eyebrow raise made me shuffle awkwardly in my spot; the Led Zep tee caught my eyes as I lingered on it, aware of my own Mötorhead top on display. He noticed it too, causing his face leave the snide territory.

"Wow, I didn't expect kids these days to have any resemblance of taste in music but you've surprised me, Corpse Bride," he gave me a quiet wolf-whistle, watching me through lidded eyes.

I felt my eyebrow crawl upwards at his attitude but Bruce spoke up before I could say anything: "Tony, no," so firmly, I had to raise both of my eyebrows. I felt a smile tug at my lips, the situation strikingly familiar in it's essence. Like father, like daughter...

"No," Lyra's identical expression, fond and annoyed, topped up with an accusing finger pointed in my direction had everyone snorting a giggle at the situation.

"Lyra," I whined, just so I could coax her grin that she was very obviously trying to conceal. "See, I told you, every crazy genius needs their emotional support nerd," I fixed her with a pointed look.

She promptly grabbed me by the arm, leading all of us to the elevator as the two men behind us shared a hearty laugh at my well-timed joke. It was either that or I would have completely embarrassed myself by gaping and drooling over both THE Tony Stark and Lyra's father.

The rush didn't stop there. I was promptly and generously offered not only a spare pair of pants but also a whole room to stay in after an invitation to dinner I simply could not refuse. Dr. Banner firmly coaxed me into staying overnight with his pleading eyes and a hearty seasoning of guilt tripping, softly crooning how he simply could not let a young woman to wander the cold, rainy night in NYC alone.

Tony added something too, in a tone way too surefire and patronising. I guessed he noticed my eyes lingering on Dr. Banner, being a genius and all.

In a short amount of time, I found myself seated at a dinner table next to a happy, giggling Lyra who'd downed a glass of wine and was well into her second. I found it adorable how much of a lightweight she was; not hesitating in the slightest to point out that fact when she made hands for a pitcher of water.

Tony was the first one to snark back something vague about his college days and all the wild parties he used to throw, booing Bruce upon discovery that he, in fact, actually studied in college in favour of partaking in various illicit activities. That had both me and Tony giggling with Lyra promptly joining in, both of us losing it over the running joke or her being either a test tube baby or the result of immaculate conception.

Bruce's face blushed scarlet. He sputtered, a few stray drops of his lemonade landing on the (ironed!) collar of his purple shirt, cough disappearing in the wake of Tony's truly amused cackling. Dr. Banner was well on his way to either choke on his Lo Mein or turn green; thinking quickly, I decided to defuse a situation by sharing a harmless, funny story that happened to me as a freshman.

"I went on a date with this guy who said that music was the most important thing in his life, and I thought, wow, that's so beautiful!" I began my story over Lyra's incessant snickering. "So we had dinner and went back to his place because I'm a whore," the whole table erupted in laughter at my deadpan remark, Tony reaching over to give me a high five.

"And as we got there, he put on one of his demos which was just a bunch of sampled and remixed Guns'n'Roses songs, and I thought wow, that's gotta be one of the worst things I've ever heard," I pointedly looked away as Lyra's cackling grew in volume, having heard the same story several times by now and the outrage I expressed at the situation first hand.

"But instead of that I said, wow, that's so cool! Then we did the thing and his whole bedroom was covered in Axl Rose posters and I'm sure at some point Mr. Rose stared right up my asshole," there were tears streaming down Lyra's face as Tony flopped his upper body onto the table and Bruce convulsed helplessly in a silent fit of giggles. "And then I thought to myself: wow, I would have to pretend to like his music if I dated this guy and I just couldn't do that..." I breathed out, succumbing to the mirth at the dinner table. "It was good but not November Rain good, y'kno?"

Bruce snorted loudly, sliding down his chair with a hand over his face. The table shook with the force of Tony's cackling; I didn't see his expression but the howling, rasping noises sent me into another fit of laughter, right on par with Lyra.

"Is this..." Tony rapidly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. "Is this why you keep wincing whenever I play the 'Roses in the lab?" Tony wheezed and Lyra nodded.

"I just... I can picture it, and I-" she made a vague, encompassing gesture and a face.

"Please, don't," I urged with a snort. "There are better ways to get disappointed."

Dinner went on by smoothly after that, everybody happily making remarks on my dating fail, the topic of Lyra's birth and Tony's college shenanigans dismissed.

I caught Dr. Banner's pointed look as we finished our dessert - he was studying me, eyes searching for something that he very obviously wished was there. From the damp roots of my hair to the soft, cotton top clinging to my chest, I wasn't left unscrutinzed and unexamined. Like one of the many specimens he studied on a daily basis, Bruce lingered on the many characteristics that made me stand out in the grey crowd.

"Would you like to see the labs?" He asked, appearing behind me without a single sound.

The freshly cleaned dishes clattered in my arms. I'd almost dropped them, startled, but Bruce's hand landed on the top of the stack right before the top plate would have slipped off and shattered into pieces on the cold tile of his kitchen.

Blood rushed to my ears. "I'd love to," my brain had briefly returned to reality, the rush of meeting both Stark and Banner succumbing to logic and reason. My and his fields of study briefly overlapped, the question he posed was more than reasonable. In fact, many people would cheat, lie and steal to be in my position.

Bruce smiled, opening a cabinet and taking half of the dishes I was holding to stack them up in their proper place. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing wide, muscular forearms littered with dark, coarse hair.

I was sure my face was flaming. After waving off Lyra's attempts to put shoes on me and leaving her to watch her TV show, a wide, warm palm rested on the back of my waist, gently steering me towards the elevator.

I tried to keep my eyes off Bruce in the large mirror on the walls of the car as it swiftly moved down, scrutinizing my appearance instead. My throat bobbed, the elevator car suddenly too small and too hot.

His eyes left marks on me - invisible ones, the kind that I knew were there just from the scorching heat sizzling on my skin.

There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him. Perhaps, it was in the way he was acting - a polar opposite of what I'd had expected, Dr. Bruce Banner possessed a quiet confidence and his patience appeared to be endless, heartily doused with an appreciation for his closest ones. The way his eyes lit up in response to people smiling around the dinner table was hard to miss.

When Bruce spoke about his research - whatever wasn't classified, anyway - the spark expanded into a mischievous fire. I could hardly understand the nuances in his work, scratch that- I could not understand a single word he was saying, at all. The individual syllables registered as they should, but my traitorous brain could only focus on the way he licked his lips in between quickly inhaled breaths.

"You're not... Following, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, clever brown eyes fixed on my face.

God, I hoped I wasn't drooling. But to deny the obvious would have been a stretch. "No, not really," I swallowed, willing my eyes to lift from the large veins on the hand that was pointing at a set of equations. Reasonably good at math any day, they looked like the scribbles of a madman to me at the time.

Dr. Banner sighed, letting silence creep among the whirring machinery in the lab for a brief moment. "I don't scare you?" He removed his glasses, cleaning them with the corner of his shirt.

The question reeked of self-doubt and, perhaps, insecurity. "No," I answered simply, not giving him the slightest chance to find doubt in my words. I was barely holding my voice from shaking, afraid he'd misunderstand my reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere.

He was closer to me than I recalled. My hip was almost brushing his, the bulk of his shoulder millimeters from touching against my bare skin, the smell of something herbal, like tea, and sharp chemicals clouding my senses. It was such a contrasting experience.

Bruce turned to me, an expression between hunger and regret forcing me to shiver and look him straight in the eye. A hand landed on my waist, holding me in place with gentle firmness. "I'm a monster, I could hurt you," he whispered, leaning into me like a touch starved kitten. The man screamed contradiction. "We shouldn't."

Vivid images of the Hulk and the rampages years prior flashed through my mind; the rubble, the collateral damage in the form of many lives. I barely remembered it, having been too little to really understand what was going on. One thing, though, I knew for sure: ever since the world became aware of Lyra's existence, there had been no incidents. Sure, the Hulk still appeared when there was a threat, but there were no documented incidents of the green creature running amok, accidentally.

"You won't hurt me," I spoke with conviction. Perhaps, I was bluffing just slightly but I wouldn't lie like that to myself. The variable, the... Twelve or so percent chance of things going... Awry, it made a small, malicious worm inside of me rejoice and fill my limbs with familiar adrenalised yearning. "You're not a monster. Far from it, actually," I used the hand that was not supporting me against the desk to gently cradle the side of his face, letting my fingertips brush over the rough five o'clock shadow on his cheek.

Bruce emitted a sound somewhere between an agitated grown and a pleading whine, sagging with the sound exhale, pressing himself flush with my chest. His face slipped from my palm, the warm tip of his nose running a steady line up my neck, sending goosebumps running wildly down my back as his hot breath tickled the arch of my throat.

"Baby," the nickname punched a stuttered gasp out of me with the intensity contained in just that one word. "I've been hearing all these amazing things about you," his voice dropped, low baritone rumbling straight into my ear. "I won't be able to hold back. I'll want you all to myself," his bicep flexed under my hand.

My knees would have bucked if I wasn't grasping onto Bruce for dear life after those words. I had some sense of personal pride in me, so while my body was an easy, traitorous thing, my mind was more than eager to participate in this game, to ping pong a little bit before... "Yeah? What things?" I breathed.

Teeth briefly closed around my tender skin, nipping for just a second. "You're kind, beautiful," his hand took a steadfast hold on the back of my neck, exposing my throat to his mouth. More skin to mark, more time to whisper. "Intelligent, bright and clever," the more he spoke, the fiercer he became. Bruce's grasp tightened until I was pliant in it, willingly following his silent commands. "A bit of a pain in the ass," a healthy dose of humour was added into the mix as my ass was roughly grabbed, our fronts pressed together at his insistence.

"That sounds about right," I didn't resist the sudden urge to snark, thoughts lazily floating in my head, like clouds on a bright sunny day, fleeting and sparse. None of them caught on. I was focused on feeling the need, on my need to feel.

A sharp smack landed on the plump of my ass, the sound resonating in the eerily quiet lab. The sounds of machinery had dulled at some point, leaving just the two of us panting our lust into each other's space. "I know you can be a good girl. Will you, princess?" His fingertips dug into my flesh, surpassing the soft sweatpants as if they weren't even there.

I could only nod, dumbly, overcome by the sudden rush of blood to my body. The life coarsing through me sang, demanding a release of the pent-up tension.

"What's that?" Bruce removed himself from my neck, catching my unfocused eyes with a crooked smirk on his lips.

"Yes," I swallowed, breathing through my mouth.

"Mmm," he hummed, running both hands over my sides, over the frayed edges of my Mötorhead top. He admired it, briefly, setting his eyes on the band logo that was right over my breasts. Having decided something to himself, Bruce promptly removed it, lifting it over my head with ease and leaving it right on the science lab table.

Taking hold of my hand, he walked over to a hidden set of sliding doors that revealed a rather large, frequently used bed, shutting them just as I walked in, wearing only my bra and borrowed sweats. My back was pressed to the door in mere seconds, hot palms chasing away the chill of the lab as Bruce slotted his lips over mine.

He tasted like something I've never had before. His lips - so plush and supple, took hold of the kiss with practiced gusto, sucking me in without a chance or the desire to escape. I drank from him, sucked on the bottom lip as his tongue explored my mouth, danced with mine.

The room was spinning, the ringing in my ears growing in volume. I was only partly aware of the sensation of sliding down the wall; our knees thudded on the carpeted floor simultaneously, heavy breathing the only noise I could distinguish.

"Breathe, baby, that's it," Bruce coaxed, gently stroking my nape. The soft cotton of his shirt crumpled under my fingers where I held onto him, desperately searching something to ground myself with.

The buckle of his belt clattered and then clinked again as he wrapped the worn leather around my wrists, bringing them together in front of my chest. I exhaled sharply at the intimate gesture, a whine bubbling up from my chest when Bruce used a single fingertip to raise my chin.

My eyes met his; a brown iris tinged with the faintest of green around the outer edge. "This okay, princess?" He sought my face for confirmation, for agreement, for anything.

I nodded, stuttering mid-gesture, remembering our previous interaction. My mouth did not want to cooperate but I forced it to, even if it came out as little more than a pitiful mewl. "Yes, daddy," the word, sweet and sticky like fruit syrup, poured from my lips.

My eyes slid shut as my conscience - or was it common sense? - took hold of the situation. I was on my knees in front of my best friends dad, a virtual stranger, and I'd just-

Bruce's soft chuckle stopped the negative spiral of my thoughts. "That's my girl," he sounded a tad more breathless now, a hairliner in his perfect façade of self-control. As if he'd sensed my indecisiveness, he tugged on the makeshift restraints, pulling me closer, closer and into his lap.

A warm, solid chest with a healthy amount of fluff greeted me. Bruce let my lax, pliant body fall into his arms, catching me effortlessly and bringing my face to his lips. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you're my good girl," he peppered soft kisses all over my flaming cheeks, my twitching nose, my fluttering lashes.

"Please," I begged, shame giving way to the flood of arousal that seemingly hit me all at once. I was aware of the dampness collecting in my panties, the stiffness of my limbs from holding back the ravenous desire to paw at Bruce like a wild animal. "Please, daddy..."

"I know, I know, baby girl," he soothed, not stopping his tender assault on my face. "Daddy will make it all better. I know just what you need," Bruce finally pulled away. I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and then the awkward shuffle of him shucking off his pants.

Somewhere in between of all that, he'd ended up sitting down on the bed, wearing only his boxers, his shirt hanging open. The red crawled down his chest, partially masked by the coarse salt and pepper hair; his lips were cherry red and his hair was sticking out in odd directions. Bruce looked sinful.

My eyes inadvertently landed on the impressive bulge in his boxers; in response to my widened eyes, he reached out for it, stroking the outline of his thick cock through his boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"

"Yeah," My mouth watered.

"Baby wants a fat cock?" He teased, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing, testing my self-control like that. With a flick of his wrist, it sprang free, slapping against his tummy, coating the fine hairs with drops of clear, musky fluid.

I swallowed, feeling the taste of him from afar and yearning for more where I was parked between his spread legs.

In a gesture almost loving, he tugged on the belt still wrapped around my wrists, bringing my face to his leaking shaft and my hands to the base of it, letting me feel the weight of his balls in them. The cock throbbed, neglected, weighed down by the heaviness of his full balls.

"Go ahead, baby, suck my cock," the encouragement came with a gentle push to my head.

I obediently followed, wrapping my lips around the pink, moist crown of it, a hum beginning in the back of my throat. My God, Bruce tasted heavenly... I whirled and slipped my tongue a around his head, I dipped into the slit to drink the nectar right from the tap, idly coming to awareness of the broken, choked moans coming from the man above me.

Raising my head got me a view of his chin; head thrown back, the lax O of his mouth glistened in the meager light. My eyes slid lower, to the flex of his abs. Bruce fought hard to stay still. The desire consumed me, a sudden rush of power at having Dr. Bruce Banner's cock in my mouth and the man at my mercy; I inhaled, sliding my mouth further and further down his throbbing length.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter before his hands gripped the sides of my face. "Hungry, baby, are you?" His eyes glowed a faint green; I shuddered at the power he held within himself. Held back for me. "Tap my thigh twice," he spoke and I had no choice but to obey. "Okay. Do that if it gets too much, alright?" I nodded. He gave me a wide, beaming smile. "Good girl," he praised, experimentally bucking his hips into my mouth a few times.

In and out. I focused on my breathing, sharp, little inhales: his girth took up all the free space in my mouth, the tip of it barely fit into my throat. The burn, the stretch; I felt every tenth of an inch, every bulging attempt of my body to accommodate Bruce's huge cock. It was delicious, I couldn't help but crave the same stretch in my neglected, sopping wet pussy.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well," Bruce moaned wetly. "Your mouth... S'like heaven... Could fuck it all day, that's my good girl," the rambling increased in it's intensity as the pace of his hips hastened. Drool and tears flowed like a river; my chin was dropping with it, spit connected my face to his pelvis. "Oh," there was a brief pause to his movements; suddenly, he pulled out, fisting the base of his cock, staring me down with a ferocious gleem in his eye.

I must've looked a straight mess; my face like a crime scene, my clothes disheveled, covered in fluids and most of all - I was desperately grinding against my own feet, too focused on the glorious cock in front of me to notice the weakness of my own flesh. "Daddy?" I questioned, wincing at the grating of my own voice.

Without a word, the belt was tugged once more; in a set of movements just slightly north of acrobatic, I found myself laying on my back in the middle of the bed, my sweatpants suffering a haste demise in the corner of the room.

Bruce crawled atop me, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on every inch of my skin he could reach, mouthing something inaudible into every pore of my body. As he drew closer, I discerned bitten-off phrases, stringing my desire into sticky, tangy mess at the apex of my thighs.

"My perfect baby girl," the words reached me; all tongue, he kissed me once more, arching into me as much as I arched into his hot grasp. A brief inspection of my face - he was satisfied with what he saw - and Bruce crawled back, settling in between my spread legs, breathing hot air on the lips of my sex still covered by a sopping wet piece of fabric.

"Oh fuck," I yelped, feeling him smooch it soundly, the hot wetness of his tongue penetrating the meagre lace barrier with ease.

He moved it aside anyway, with a single finger, giving my pussy a broad lick, moaning into my cunt like a man gone mad. It took a few more licks for him to feel sated enough to surface, all the while holding my hips down. I was so sensitive, I felt even the tiniest flicks to my clit, I was sure if I didn't cum then and there, I would explode.

"Such a pretty pussy, princess," his heavy breathing paused briefly. He nipped my thigh. "So wet, is that all for me?"

"Yes, yes, daddy," I rasped, pushing my cunt into his face, losing all shame and trepidation.

"So tasty," he continued the torture, outlining my lower lips before taking another nosedive right into it, swirling his tongue around every fold, sucking onto my clit.

Bruce ate my pussy until my thighs shook, until my core quivered and I could no longer hold back the choked, ragged screams starting somewhere in the low of my belly and coming out as unholy, all-consuming yowls filled with unadulterated lust.

"Louder for me, baby," he inhaled rapidly, and then, he sucked on my clit.

The world stopped, halted on it's axis, every muscle going rigid in my body and every nerve ending simultaneously coming alive. Faintly, I heard a chant, repeating two syllables over and over, it sounded like my voice - but I had no control over myself. All I could do was weakly grind my hips against Bruce's mouth, faltering when the crashing waves of my orgasm began to recede.

The infuriating overstimulation stopped; blinking hazily, I saw Bruce's eyes glimmer brown and green in front of my face. His nose and his chin was glistening with a thin coat of sticky fluid; disheveled and red, he looked a man on the verge of a revelation.

Something hot and blunt nosed at my cunt, bringing back the moment to me - I realized, with a great deal of impatience - how empty I felt. The decision was minute. "Daddy, fuck me, please, I want your cock," the words came easily.

"That's my girl," his eyes fluttered shut as the first inches squeezed through the snug of my cunt. I was sopping wet and as relaxed as I'd be, but even then, it was a stretch. "Good girl, good baby," the mumbled praise made me whine and my pussy clamp on his cock. "Relax, let daddy fill you up." Breathing through it, I consciously unwound myself around him, letting my palms rest freely on his shoulders. "Let daddy take care of you."

Like melted sugar, his husked words stuck to me inside and out. Short, sharp thrusts; Bruce was patiently burrowing himself inside of me, making his way to reach the deepest parts of me I didn't even know existed. His cock head pressed against something hard and spongy inside of me; stars burst behind my eyes I'd clamped shut on reflex.

I moaned weakly, tugging on his arm, pressing myself closer. It felt so, so good. Like a raw nerve had been exposed and he was stroking it, pushing that little switch with every stroke of his hips.

"I'm not gonna last," he muttered as once again, my cunt squeezed him snugly in place, just as greedy as I was to feel that tiny explosion spark up within me again.

"I want..." I panted. Bruce set in a punishing pace after that, a palm under my ass, squeezing it so hard there would definitely be bruising. I craved it, I needed to see the evidence this was not some elaborate fever dream. "I want... Daddy to fill me up," words came out garbled; it sounded like gibberish to my ears but Bruce - they spurred him on.

"Oh yeah?" That breathless, boyish cockiness was back in his voice again; despite how fucked out he sounded, I prepared myself for something truly out of this world. I just knew.

He sat back on his shins, dragging me by the hips with him, making me shiver and moan and twitch and clamp onto him again as his throbbing cock hit that special spot again. And again. And again.

"Look at me, baby," a hand on my belly and his eyes burning right through me. As they slid down, towards the apex of my thighs where he was still moving within me almost lazily, I saw it.

"Oh fuck," I couldn't utter much more than a two-syllabled profanity. There was a bulge in my belly, just above my pelvis, moving in rhythm with Bruce's hips. And then he pressed on it and I-

Something, someone, somewhere was screaming. The noise was loud and pitched, but even then, I could barely hear it though the neverending waves of bliss that enveloped my whole being. Gold and silver at the edges of my rapidly darkening vision; I was drowning in something that smelled and felt like Bruce. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his heated body, the rapid snapping of his hips-

Oh.

"I'm gonna, fuck," the last word was but a ghost of a human speech. Growling low and filthy, Bruce leaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. "Mine," his hips stuttered, his cock nestled deep, the sensation bordering on painful, forcefully extracted pleasure. It throbbed with every spurt of his seed; each one felt like a solid punch in the gut to my abused pussy.

"Daddy," I mewled, my body jerking away from him but my mind and my soul yearning for more. His rapidly softening flesh made the idea of being separated unbearable.

"S'good, s'my good girl, m'so proud," he mumbled, looking slightly disoriented as he removed himself from me, immediately pressing me to his side and interwining any free, flailing limbs.

We laid in silence, each of us slowly coming back to Earth after the completely unreal experience we just had. I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do as the realization set in, the post-orgasmic haze giving way to a sudden rush of clarity.

"I can hear you overthinking," Bruce's voice was fond.

Before I could muster up the courage to snark back, the divided doors opened, one very concerned Tony Stark standing there, armed with a tranquilizer gun in one hand and a pack of cookies in the other. His mouth, previously open to (probably) yell at us, remained as open when his eyes had registered the scene in front of him.

I stared at Bruce. Bruce stared at Tony.

"The noise," he offered in the way of explanation, dangling the pack of cookies, looking, for once - speechless. He recovered quickly, however, even if the remark was a thin ghost of his usual sass: "You pick the nerd over me? I'm hurt," he scoffed in mock irritation, although I was pretty sure I saw some satisfaction in there, too.

Bruce looked at me. I looked at Bruce.

A mischievous grin slowly crept up his face, an identical one beginning to appear on my own face seconds after.

"Hey, two nerds is better than one, right?" My response is what did it; or, rather, it was the evidence of my previous throat-fucking clearly audible in my voice... Tony dropped the cookies and then, the tranq gun.

Bruce Banner taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @mostly-marvel-musings @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @sapphicnoodle69 @couldntbedamned @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @tripleyeeet @tatestripedsweater @stuckybarton

#bruce banner x reader #bruce banner smut #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #Bruce Banner #bun writes #I haven't written shit in a month and boom #6k words in three hours #i don't like the ending #I'm bad at them #okay #okay .

1K notes · View notes

shotorozu · 3 years

Note

i feel like im annoying lol but here i am again 🥴

🥴 how do da boys react to a super bimbo mc like shes busty, sweet, innocent, helpful as much as she can be and doesnt really realize when people are hitting on her, she just thinks theyre being extra friendly. (Tamaki, izuku, shoto, denki, bakougo) or any of ur choice

Sorry if I’m being annoying ( •᷄ὤ•᷅)？ and tysm

bimbo s/o

character(s) : bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto, amajiki tamaki (bnha)

probably (?) part one // ?

legend : [Y/N = your name] female! s/o, quirk not specific

headcanon type : fluff, crack (x reader)

note(s) : sooo 🤩 it’s my birthday tomorrow, not excited about that?? not sure! but im definitely gonna post more tomorrow, just because

»»————-　♡　————-««

bakugou katsuki

you didn’t seem like his type tbh. you’re kinda an airhead, and you’re sweet and helpful to everyone

and awfully innocent,,

so, you seemed like the person that bakugou would try and stay away from, but nope!

not in this case. i’m not sure what conspired in this explosive blond’s head, but he had a oddly specific attraction to you

he used to hate being around you, but it’s also quite entertaining being around you but why, you may ask?

not only are you super nice, and helpful, but you’re very likable too! which caused you to get secret admirers, and fanboys

but you also so happen to be clueless as fuck, so katsuki would always stick around— obviously very amused, only to tell you what their true intentions are

“what do they mean, go out? like,, outside?”

“no, dumbo. they wanna date you.”

“..like the calendar?”

“hah?? are you dumb?” he actually hated how oblivious you were at first, but he just got used to it

but this clueless airhead trait of yours is what he also hates, because when he developed feelings for you— he’d have to tell you

and,, he’s not the best with being direct with romantic stuff. so— you can see how that went.

he ended up confessing you in the most direct way he could’ve said it, but you still. didn’t. understand.

“fuck sake, i want to be your significant other. your fucking lover, the bitch that’ll be with you until this dumbass brain of yours stops working.”

okay, he was a little too direct, but at least you know his feelings!

when you both finally get together, everyone is shocked. like,, you, the sweetheart that likes helping people— dating thee bakugou katsuki??

everyone thought you were threatened to date him, because you didn’t understand other people’s advances— but in reality, katsuki just told you what he felt

straight from the heart.

also, since you’re also quite busty, katsuki loves sleeping on them— he literally won’t sleep, until he has his head resting on those milkers of yours

“maybe this is all you’re good for, huh? a fuckin’ head rest. there might not be anything up there, but at least it gives me some good fuckin’ sleep.”

he,, doesn’t mean that. you’re useful in so many other ways, but he loves pretending that he thinks that way, because of your replies

“ah, yes! i’m fine with being your head rest, katsuki. rest well, love!”

you’re not hurt, because he makes it a point to tell you multiple times a day that you mean lots to him.

but he gets super mad when people tell you that you’re stupid. because he can only tell you that!!

todoroki shouto

you also didn’t seem like you’d be his type,, everyone thought he would’ve wanted someone that’s smart as momo, or something similar

but he’s very content with being with you, for reasons he can’t seem to figure out.

he has his habit of watching you help people from afar, and he couldn’t help but smile whenever he engages in conversations with you

yeah sure, you might be more of an airhead than most people— but you have a heart of gold! and that’s what gathered his attention

sometimes, he’s quite clueless to some social cues— but even he can connect the dots

which you can’t seem to do. but you’re in luck! shouto’s usually the one that tells you what they mean

it’s something he loves and hates, only because of how popular you are with people in general.

sometimes, shouto debates if he should even tell you what they mean— because well,, he likes you.

usually, shouto would interpret things to you like this

“,, they like you,, romantically.”

“shou, are you sure? they look like they wanna be my friend!” he lets you call him by his first name, just because of how content you look by calling him ‘shouto’

he ends up whispering something into your ear, and your eyes light up in realization. “oh! so how princess bubblegum likes marceline?”

“,, yeah.”

but being shouto todoroki has it’s advantages. he isn’t afraid of being as direct as he could possibly be.

“may i have the honor of being your lifelong partner?”

“..?”

“oh, romantically. i’d love to be your lover, Y/N.”

“..oh! that’s what you meant.”

the way he sees you stumble with your words, as you pace back in forth— completely flustered by his words

makes him smile

and it all ends well when his friends see that his wallpaper is literally him laying down on your chest

which is something he always wanted to do

“shouto,, did you finally confess?!”

“yes. they said yes.”

they’re not really surprised that you understood, courtesy to shouto’s bluntness.

he is your protector against all of the people that make you seem useless. man literally lashed out when his father asked him to date someone with ‘more intelligence’

“Y/N may not be the definition of being book smart, but Y/N’s not useless!”

in short— he’s the bimbo protector! he’ll always be patient around you, and he would never dare to dumb you down.

amajiki tamaki

oh lOrd, please help him

you’re so kind, sweet, and helpful. you’d help anyone— regardless of their personality. and that’s what made tamaki interested in you

but you’re also very popular. which he could see why— since you’re attractive in a unique and special way.

tamaki absolutely disliked the idea of your kindness being taken advantaged of. i mean,, the guts of some people!

but he also hated being the one to break the news to you good or bad

he’s not good with the blunt stuff either, and he might’ve been worried about being around you— because well,, you look like you wouldn’t even hurt a fly.

“tamaki, what do they mean by ‘coming home with them for a nice time’ do they.. want to play mario cart with me?”

he looks like he needs to pass out, but he ends up telling you anyway. he’s just lucky that you could hear him.

but he sighs in relief when you end up kindly declining

nejire and mirio are SO amused by this pairing. i mean, it’s an interesting dynamic! how could they not be invested?

yet, they refuse to even explain things to you, especially when tamaki’s around to do said explaining

because apparently, ‘it’ll help you socialize more, especially with Y/N!’

but remember when i said that tamaki wasn’t great with the blunt approach? yeah— he’d have a heart attack, just trying to explain his feelings

“i— uhm how do i say this,, would you like t-to go out for some dinner with m-me?”

“oh sure! i should go tell mirio and nejire” you’d say that with a smile, and it felt like he was going to pass away on the spot.

nejire and mirio were the ones the tell you that ‘no, tamaki doesn’t want to be friendly with you, because he wants to romantically date you.’

and it felt like forever when they were explaining how and why, while tamaki was sitting in the corner.

but thank GOD! because you like him too!

super hesitant on resting on your chest, i mean,, to him, it looked like the nicest pillow for the deepest sleep! but he wasn’t sure if that’d be okay

because no!! to!! taking!! advantage!! of!! Y/N’s!! kindness!!

speaking of that, despite the fact that he’s socially awkward— he will not hesitate on defending you from any haters!

like, when people say that “tamaki and Y/N are such an awkward couple. tamaki’s super awkward, it looks like there’s nothing in Y/N’s brain. maybe she’s brainless”

because how dare they. not everyone is book smart— but that doesn’t give people the right to call you stupid!

“Y/N’s not brainless! she’s kind, helpful, and the sweetest p-person i have ever met. i suggest you take that back!”

in short— it gives him heart palpitations just having to explain things to you, but at the end of the day, it’s all worth it, if he can be with you

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

2K notes · View notes

astaroth1357 · 4 years

Text

How the Brothers were Growing Up

Sorry, still finishing up the next request. I just had this idea wandering around Lowes because I got distracted by some orchids and somehow managed to lose track of my family... I'm a grown ass woman, so I texted them but still. Maybe I've actually been a five year-old piloting an adult body this whole time…

Lucifer

Child? What child? All I see is a miniature adult.

Well, that's not completely accurate. He had a perfectly normal childhood, all things considered. Michael and Raphael more or less took the helm of raising him with Michael acting as the doting parent and Raphael the more strict one to balance things out.

Since there weren’t any children to play with at the time, Lucifer made it a habit of imitating the older angels - that way he could feel included too.

He was pretty much that little kid who walked around in his father's ties and pretended to have meetings so he could "play" with the grownups...

He always kind of knew that he didn't fit in with the other angels when he was young and he still remembered that left out feeling, so he had a habit of checking on other “misfit” angels even after becoming an fully accepted adult.

Mammon

Problem child. Plain and simple.

He came up at a time where Lucifer was too old and busy to play with him and this poor baby just wanted attention…

He'd break rules, push buttons, and generally just act out in ways that weren't "angelic” for a long time. It caused a lot of problems, but Lucifer - still pretty young himself - always had a small soft spot for his antics (I mean, who wouldn’t laugh after he replaced Raphael's spear with a teddy bear on a broomstick?)

Mammon never exactly rebelled, though. He'd just push the envelope a lot in order to get noticed which, unfortunately, only got more and more problematic as he grew older...

Lucifer was one of the few people to ever reach out to him and see his potential as an angel, which is why he chose him to be his closest assistant. This helped Mammon straighten out some… but not entirely. This is still Mammon we're talking about here.

Levi

Shy baby boi… but with a good head on his shoulders.

Levi was one of those quiet kids who’s too shy to actually interact with people unless they initiated the conversation, which made him feel extra left out from the others…

Thankfully, since Mammon and Levi were young around the same time the two ended up being partners-in-crime for a while. If there was mischief to be had, they were probably behind it with Mammon spearheading the ideas and Levi making sure that they’d work.

After Mammon started getting his act together, that left Levi feeling left out of something again and he eventually developed several insecurities as a result…

Lucifer was the one to actually notice that Levi had a good mind for strategy - having devised a lot of he and Mammon's pranks in the past - and recommended him as an Archangel, finally giving Levi a place to "belong" (until the war ended anyway.)

Satan

A literal hellspawn.

Pretty much just the worst for the longest time. Temperamental, violent, and destructive on good days, downright homicidal on bad.

Babysitting Satan was less about making sure he didn't hurt himself and more about making sure he didn't hurt anyone else...

He eventually started leveling out after his brain began developing better reasoning skills. Everybody had a fucking celebration the first time he got through a full dinner without attempting to stab a waitress! Lucifer almost cried, it was a joyous day...

Lucifer mostly took on the job of raising Satan, but because he had become even more distant to everyone after the Fall (and he was never particularly warm to start with) it may have left a few... lingering problems for Satan growing up.

Asmo

The "Pay Attention to Me! Pay Attention to Me!!" kid.

There was another lull after Levi was created, which left another angel with no one to play with… but Asmo would not be ignored.

He hung off of everybody's heels, acting cute and "helping" with things in his own way - if the older angels look stressed, he'd go pick them flowers. That sort of thing.

Took "youngest child" privileges to a whole new level. He could practically get away with anything until the twins came around by just flashing his big, amber eyes and a few tears. Even Raphael had a hard time telling him no, something the man would later come to regret...

Asmo didn't exactly change his bad habits much, even after the twins were made, so he'd get reprimanded by the others pretty often. Lucifer was usually the only one who'd ever cover for him (and even then not without a lecture) so Asmo would always try his best to return the favor.

Beel

You know those big, happy puppies who just don't know their own strength…?

Beel's frame sort of outpaced his age. He grew up big and fast compared to everyone else. By the time he started puberty he was only a head shorter than Lucifer and he had fully surpassed his brother not a few months later!

Naturally, this left Beel with a lot of awkward coordination and strength problems through much of his life… Anytime he got a handle on his own body, it'd grow an inch taller or get even stronger seemingly overnight…

Though he was sweet, he’d always end up breaking things on accident and most angels couldn't help but see him as a sort of brutish, hulking giant as a result...

Though Beel was never really "alone" like any of the others thanks to Belphie, his lack of self-coordination and constant slip ups made the older angels look down on him… Expect for Lucifer, who actually took the time to encourage Beel's strengths over berating his faults. Their relationship remained strong ever since.

Belphie

That kid you'd lose in the park because he got distracted by a pretty flower, didn't remember to keep walking beside you, then just wandered off to the swing set because he felt like it.

Belphie marched to the beat of his own drum. He wouldn’t be rushed, he wouldn’t be swayed, and he might have listened to someone… but only if he wanted to.

Dealing with Belphie was maddening for anyone not named Beel because he'd do what he pleased and was very good at getting away with it. He had a potent combination of wit and Baby Brother Privilege even then.

It didn’t help that Asmo babied Belphie the most and pretty much taught his brother all the ways he'd get away with things back before the twins were made…

In all honesty, Lucifer probably coddled Belphie nearly as much as Asmo. Angel twins are exceedingly rare and Belphie being there at all was literally a miracle. Though he had enough backbone not to let him get away with everything, Belphie always knew "Big Brother Lucifer" would help him out... most of the time...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me hc

1K notes · View notes

treesandtheirberries · 3 years

Text

Dad!Harry talks to his daughter about her questioning sexuality

A/N: might make this into a blurb series? so presh. if you have any concepts around this, send them my way.

wc: 2,249

June was Harry and Y/N’s first baby, their biggest accomplishment before they were soon having another child. June was currently 13, the awkward age of Middle School, puberty, and overall questioning of identity. Y/N and Harry wanted this weird stage to be a smooth transition. They always encouraged her to express herself, with clothes, in hobbies, with their conversations. Although their first child, they both felt as though they managed to get through the difficulties of becoming a parent easily (thanks to the massive amount of parenting books, from birth to adolescence, that Harry kept buying while June was still in the womb).

Yet, there is only so much you can prepare your child for, and surely you can’t be there to guide them through every difficulty. Harry and Y/N weren’t sure if June would question her sexuality as both of them weren’t straight, they didn’t know if the process was the same for heterosexuals. But they never skirted around the topic. If anything, they encouraged watching same-sex couples in movies and such, even having many friends who had families with someone of the same gender (or a partner that was non-binary).

Harry hoped that this would be an excellent way to acclimate their children to the varying diversity of the world. Y/N grew up with racial diversity, but anything deviant from heterosexuality or cisgender was heavily frowned upon. They hoped that with their lack of omission of the varying aspects of identity their children would have the opportunity to understand themselves easier rather than constantly question their identity.

They forgot to take into account that this was simply a stage in adolescence they had to endure though, as Eric Erickson put it: a fight between identity and role confusion. And June was currently right at the center of it.

June, even as a child, was usually calm and they rarely had problems with her being fussy like they do with the twins, Mazzy and Mick (named after the artists constantly playing on their home turntable). Thus, any changes were quickly noticed in her behavior.

-------

Picking up the kids from daycare and June from school was on the top of Y/N’s list of things to do for the day. She adored seeing everyone’s faces after a day at work and seeing their warm smiles and tight hugs always brightened her mood.

Today, things seemed different.

June jumped into the front seat with a grunt, a frown, and even went as far as throwing her bag onto the floor of the car forcefully. This was generally out of character, except Y/N and Harry have noticed these bursts of anger more recently.

“What’s eating at ‘ya bug?” Y/N calmly asked, wanting to maintain a balance of emotions although knowing June was perhaps all over the place as most teenagers are.

June rubbed her hands on the top of her thighs and noticeably took a few deep breaths; a calming tactic her father taught her when she was younger to calm herself. She took a few more breaths until facing her mother to talk. “Sage didn’t want to hang out this weekend,” she finishes, the frown being found on her face once again.

“Oh, is she busy? Thought you two were having a sleepover at home?” Y/N inquired. She knew Sage and her daughter were best friends since the beginning of sixth grade, and she hoped they would maintain their friendship although she knew the ups and downs adolescents faced it might not be possible.

“She said she’s going to the mall with Rye.”

“As in the bread?” Y/N chuckled, trying to lift the mood.

June rolled her eyes, another behavior that has risen in frequency. “No mom. A boy. That she likes.” She grumbled crossing her arms and sinking further into the seat.

“Oooooh I see what’s going on here, Sage is going on a date!” She rose her voice to a pitch of puppy love, which didn’t sit well with June.

“We promised we wouldn’t date boys in Middle School. They’re all so stupid and ugly. I don’t get why she’s ditching me for him.”

Y/N was a bit surprised by this. Harry and she have talked about the day they’d have to worry about June’s infatuation with others and they were dreading it. Hearing that June didn’t have interest in it now was a relief, but of course, this whole conversation was concerning.

“I understand, not the nicest to make plans with someone when she already made some with you. But June-bug, you guys are teenagers. Of course, she’s going to take an opportunity to go on a date with a freaking boy!”

“Language momma!” Mick yelled, the three-year-olds’ well acquainted with naughty words.

“I guess. Just rude s’all.” June finished with another grumble. She wasn’t known for throwing huge fits, and her outbursts were usually this short.

Still, Y/N knew that this would be something that would affect her for the rest of the week. Her daughter is calm but incredibly sensitive, and the two parents have learned how to work through her internal struggles. She decided to ask the usual question during June’s turmoils: “wanna talk to dad about it?”

“Yes please.”

--------

Harry was finishing washing the plates as Y/N was getting the twins ready for bed. The small domestic moments like these reminded Harry of how lucky he was to have a family like his. He noticed June’s mood as soon as everyone entered the house, and once Y/N confirmed they would need to talk later, Harry was preparing himself to support his daughter through her problems. Y/N and he were definitely lucky with their firstborn being like June. Sometimes he’ll credit his efforts in teaching June meditation early, and depending on the day, Y/N agrees.

As he dries the plates to put back in their cupboards, June walks in.

“Hiya bug. C’mere give Poppa hug.”

June rolls her eyes (he’s having a hard time adjusting to these teenager habits) and walks closer to her father. Although she’s extremely close with both of her parents, there is a timeless connection she has with her father. “Not a child anymore dad. And please, do not call yourself poppa again. You’re not that old yet.” She mumbled in his chest, clearly needing the affection.

“Mom said you wanted to talk? Want her there?”

“Uhm. Maybe we could just talk in my room please.”

“Of course, let me just put these plates all back” Harry smiled, only letting go of the hug once he felt June move away. A small trick he learned from his mother after she attacked him with countless parenting trips: never let go in a hug with your child, let them determine when the hug is over. It gives them more comfort and stability in their lives and although he saw this as minimal, he understood its significance.

“I’ll help.”

----

As they walked to June’s room, they caught Y/N walking back from the twins’ room. “Hey baby, twins are done for. I’ll be in the room. “ She pecks Harry quick on the lips and turns to June to wrap her in a hug. “Love you cutie,” she winks at June as she goes to her room.

“Love you momma” June smiles, happy that she has a supportive family like this one.

“I’ll be there in a bit,” Harry smiles, his arm going back to June’s shoulders, giving it a squeeze.

Once they get to her room, both take a seat on June’s bed. Her back is on the headboard while Harry sits at the edge facing her, cross-legged. Every once in a while June would request to speak to Harry, Y/N, or both of her parents on the issues bothering her. Harry and Y/N were proud of having a daughter that felt comfortable enough to communicate with her parents, and they always were looking for new ways to enrich themselves with the issues kids have a different ages.

“Speak to me June, what’s on your mind lady?” Harry starts, initiating the push. He can tell that she’s struggling to bring her thoughts to words.

“Did you....well. How did you ... realize you didn’t like ... uhm, just girls?” She hesitantly asked, too flustered to look at her father on such a strange topic.

Oh, it’s happening, Harry thought. “Well, I was pretty young, I guess around your age, and I realized that I just wasn’t fully straight. It developed from there I guess, I talked to a few friends about it, spoke to your grandma, and eventually met a boy I really liked. It was really scary, I’m not going to lie, figuring out my feelings at that point. After that, it wasn’t a big deal and everyone in the family understood. I just knew something like gender wasn’t a big deal to me, and if I liked someone I liked them. But it’s different for everyone. Your mom can tell you how she found out she’s bi.”

June was soaking in the information her father gave her. She knew both of her parents weren’t straight, but hearing how they found it out was something entirely different. It wasn’t that she was foreign to the concept, but in personal terms, it was utterly confusing.

She finally looked to her father, giving him a small smile at the personal information he shared. They were a very open family, but something about this felt even more personal. “But, did you ever think you were faking it?”

“Not really, but you already know how pretentious your father is,” he chuckled, lighting the mood. “Your mother, as she’ll tell you, had a completely different experience. Said she struggled for years thinking she was either faking it or actually completely gay! She once told me that she just couldn’t disclose it with anyone, and that led her to a lot of contemplation. But if you’re feeling this way too, I need you to know your mother and I are here to support you in any way we can.”

“Dad,” June scrunched her eyes looking down at her crossed legs. “I think I might like girls. Or at least, I think. After Sage told me she’d ditched me I just realized I don’t like her just as a friend.”

At this moment, tears began to form in her eyes from all the confusion. Instantly Harry brought her into aa encompassing bear hug, keeping her safe in his chest. It hurt him to see her going through this dilemma, the inter-workings of adolescents were never fun.

“It’s just,” June suddenly choked on a sob, grasping her dad’s hoodie. Harry began to rub her back for support. “I like her I think. Like really like her dad. I don’t want her to date a boy, I want to date her. But she won’t like me and...I don’t know! Why did this have to happen to me!” She continued, clearly soaking his hoodie.

“Oh baby, please don’t ever think this is a bad thing. Sexuality is a spectrum, many of our friends are somewhere on it, and you already know Elizabeth and Mary are married. This is a beautiful thing to discover baby. But yes, I won’t lie to you, it’s going to be hard. There may be times you like someone who doesn’t like girls but bug, that’s simply life.”

“What if I am dad. I don’t know if I like boys at all.”

“Then you are. As simple as that. You can label how you feel or not, it’s all about what feels most comfortable to you. As you know, your mother and I will be here to support you in any way we can. If you like girls, so be it, you’re still our daughter and you know that. If you like boys, which I mean yuck,” he imitated a gagging noise, rising a laugh out of June “then okay. Both or everyone? It’s all okay bub. I do want you to think about it, It might take some time to accept it but we’re accepting you any way you are. You’re so beautiful and strong, and your sexuality doesn’t diminish that in any way.” He made sure to hug her tightly as he said this, expressing his full support.

“Dad, thank you.” June exhaled, releasing herself to wipe her tears.

“Of course, June. I’m so happy you were able to tell me this, I know it must’ve been hard.”

After a deep breath, June looked calmer after her small crisis. “I knew you guys would be okay with anything but it’s just, much harder than I expected to really like your friend who doesn’t like you.”

“It’s hard, so so hard. Ask your mum, seriously I swear she told me she also liked one of her friends at your age. Universal gay experience perhaps?” Harry pondered.

June gave a small laugh to that. “Yeah, I’ll ask. I don’t want her to think I left her out of this, it’s just that I’ve heard about your sexuality in the media more.”

“Pesky things, but I understand. It was so hard for your mom in comparison to me. Do you want me to let her know first, is it okay that I let her know you might be questioning?” He gave her daughter a sincere inquisitive look, valuing consent over everything.

“Yeah, of course. Probably talk to her tomorrow after we drop the twins off. I really appreciate it, dad.”

“No problem bug. Let’s get you tucked away.”

__________ part 2

OH MY GOD this is my first I HOPE YOU LIKE. please any feedback would be so sexy.

#harry #harry styles #harry styles prompts #harry styles one shot #harry styles one direction #harry blurb #dad!h #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #one direction #1d #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #fine line

218 notes · View notes

neoculturetravesty · 3 years

Text

We met in online class - Part 4

Image taken from here. Originally had this image in mind but Tumblr won’t let me upload it.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, fluff, angst, maybe humor???? Warnings: Strong language Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Happy Easter to all who celebrate it!

It’s funny how quickly people form habits without really meaning to. You don’t realize you have a new favorite word till someone points out you’ve been using it so much. You don’t realize you’re addicted to caffeine till you get headaches from withdrawals. You don’t realize you can’t live without dessert till the sugar crash hits. And in the same way, Renjun didn’t realize he had gotten used to your company till he’s waiting outside your lecture hall with an almost expectant inclination to see you.

A lot of it had to do with who you were as a person. You had pretty much infiltrated Renjun’s life, even though he still kept you at an arm’s distance. One day, he had walked into the library and found you with Jaemin, while the two of you had your heads together over a laptop and a huge gift basket in the making on the table. Jaemin wasn’t the kind of person who invited a lot of new people into his life; so he must have really trusted you because it wasn’t the last time Renjun saw the two of you together.

But worse than Jaemin was Donghyuck. Renjun was pretty sure that since you’d asked him out, you had probably hung out more with Donghyuck than with him. Almost as if seeing Renjun was just an excuse for you to hang out with him, as you had often joked. It was as if the two of you were kindred spirits, long lost best friends who had finally found one another. Donghyuck would invite you everywhere, get up to no good with you in tow; and before Renjun knew it, the two of you were even planning parties together. Neither Donghyuck nor you needed Renjun as an excuse to hang out with one another anymore, and it amused him. A part of him wondered if Donghyuck was playing along to help his bigger cause. But his friend always looked so genuinely happy around you that any ulterior motive he might have seemed to have been forgotten.

“Why can’t the sun always be like this?” you said as you laid on the grass using your backpack as a pillow. Your hand was reaching out over your face, your fingers wiggling as you played with shadows.

While you soaked in the sun, Renjun chose to sit under the shade of a tree, sketching away in his book, completing his assignment before his next class.

“You wouldn’t appreciate it as much if it were always like this.” Renjun replies, not looking away from his work. He much preferred paint over charcoal, but he had to admit that the scratching sounds it made against the grains of paper--coupled with the chirping of birds and gentle ruffling of leaves around him--was really relaxing. As was your company.

“Hmm. But it’s still nice to see it without fine dust couture. I like seeing it fully in the nude.” you say, a soft, funny smile on your face while your eyelashes cast shadows on your cheeks.

“Pervert.” Renjun accuses, smiling as he drew. It just makes you laugh and lay sideways to face him. You prop up your head on your hand.

“I’m the sun, Huang Renjun. Now draw me like one of your French girls.” you say in a comical voice and Renjun actually laughs without reservation.

“Do you have any more classes?” he asks, fixing his black and gold rimmed glasses over his nose.

“Nope. I’m done for the day. Yeri’s supposed to pick me up, so I’m just waiting for her call.” you say, rolling onto your back once more, resuming your dance with the shadows.

Renjun hums a reply as he sketches, but really, he’s thinking that he hadn’t formally met Yeri. At least not yet. He had just had two very awkward run-ins with her the couple of times he had been to your apartment. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been to your place since that last time. And you had never been to his place at all.

It wasn’t on accident, though. All of it had been by Renjun’s really convoluted design. He had met a few of your friends on campus in the passing, sure. But you were more a part of his life that he was yours. That is exactly what Renjun had planned. Lately, however, that plan seemed to be fading away into the ether. Slowly but surely dispersing from memory till it was more or less abandoned.

Because Renjun did not realize that he had adopted you like a habit. Any time he saw a witty meme, he had to send it your way because you would text back with an equally witty reply that scratched Renjun’s intellectual itch. Any time Jisung would bring home a baguette, he would take a picture for you with a caption like ‘Francophile life going strong’. The two of you had even developed a silly game where you would look at different marketing taglines and wonder if it would still work to sell condoms.

‘Nike. Just do it.’ Renjun had once texted.

‘That is a low hanging fruit, Huang Renjun.’ you had replied.

‘Okay, true. But how about Imax: Thing big.’ he had texted back.

‘Hmm, almost but not quite. I need something stronger.’

‘BMW: Designed for driving pleasure.’ he had actually found himself scrolling through a long list of taglines while his assignment laid forgotten.

‘Oof. Now you’ve found the sweet spot. Keep going.’ Renjun had smiled at your reply and had found himself hurriedly looking for something better.

‘Geico: So easy, a caveman could do it.’

‘Mmm, didn’t think you were a kinky boy, Huang Renjun. Go on…”

Renjun had actually laughed out loud, making Jisung look up at him quizzically and replied ‘1010 Wins: you give us 22 minutes, we’ll give you the world.’

‘Yessss! Right there, right there!’

Renjun hadn’t even realized he was grinning wide and standing up from his desk, a list of taglines open both on his laptop and his phone while he scrolled to find the perfect response that would make you happy. ‘Rice Krispies: Snap! Crackle! Pop!’

‘So close, so close, I am almost there!’

‘Washington Post: Democracy dies in darkness.’

‘THAT’S IT, THAT DID IT, THAT HIT THE SPOT!’

Renjun had actually belly laughed at the entire conversation. He didn’t remember the last time he had laughed this way because even Jisung was looking at him with an amused smile, asking “What’s so funny?”

So yes, Renjun had adopted you like a habit. But it wasn’t just through text. When you weren’t the one waiting for him on campus with a couple of cups of coffee in hand, he found he would go looking for you. You would spend all your free time together, just like this. He would find himself missing you on days he didn’t get to see you. He found himself disappointed when you didn’t have time for him because you and Donghyuck were on a very important mission or you had to meet your friends or you had extra work that was demanding your attention. You had just inserted yourself in his life in such a manner that Renjun didn’t even notice.

Perhaps you had nothing to do with it, but Renjun’s life had been treating him pretty well, too. Maybe he was more inspired these days, because his work was getting better and his professors were noticing. His painting instructor had held him back after class one day and offered him an internship at his studio. While it wasn’t huge, it was enough that Renjun had thrown his fist in the air in celebration as soon as he had left class. And you were the first person he texted and he was glad he did because you had texted back a freakout that made him grin like an idiot. You had come to see him as soon as your own class had ended and you had flung yourself in his arms and had jumped around excitedly before dragging him along so you could buy him an artist’s apron as a present.

“Do you have any more classes?” you ask him as you stare at the evening sun through your fingers.

Renjun’s about to reply when he is interrupted by the sound of your phone buzzing in your pocket. You fish it out and sit up, telling Renjun “Hold on…” before answering it. “Are you here, Yeri?”

Renjun goes back to scratching away in his pad, thinking. Maybe he should introduce himself now when Yeri comes to pick you. But what would he say? ‘Hi, I’m Y/N’s friend?’ Everyone on campus knew that the two of you weren’t exactly just friends. It was thanks to your stunt during that one online class, where he’d met you. ‘Hi, I’m Y/N’s boyfriend?’ But he wasn’t that, either. While the two of you had become pretty comfortable in each other’s company, you hadn’t really done anything, or had any serious talk about what you were. You two always found yourself tiptoeing “the line”. Actually, no. It was Renjun that tiptoed that line. After his two failed attempts to kiss you, the conversation had just not taken that turn ever again. You two hadn’t leveled up on the PDA front, either. Sure, you had cuddled into him in the back of the cab that one night, and he had half-carried you to your apartment till Yeri took you from the doorstep. But you didn’t seem to remember any of it, so it was basically back to square one. Sure, you had hugged him in joy when he had gotten the internship, but did it really count when the two of you hadn’t even held hands yet? Aside from the innuendo-filled condom tagline talk, the two of you hadn’t really done anything that would constitute as… something a couple might do.

“Okay, but how long would it take?” you’re saying into the phone, a gentle crease growing between your eyebrows. Whatever you heard back must have been distasteful because you grimace. “Okayyyy, Yeri, I’m hanging up now!” you say pointedly and groan, laying back into the grass.

Renjun chuckles “All good?”

“Yeri has brought home a ‘distraction’.” you say, making air quotes, and a face like you’ve tasted something sour. “I’m banished from my own home for the evening.”

Renjun looks up.

He thinks about his next words carefully. “Um… what are you gonna do?”

You groan once more and say “I’m probably going to crash at Lia’s till my exile is over. So inconvenient!”

“You could come over to mine.”

Renjun didn’t know how it happened, how he found the courage to think it and then actually say it out loud, but now there’s no going back because the two of you are walking down the hallway to his place. He doesn’t know why, but his throat is a little dry and he peeks over his shoulder to see that you seem a bit nervous as well. He takes a deep breath and decides to break the tension.

“Here we are.” He says as he punches in the code. He holds the door open “Hello, MTV. Welcome to my crib.”

It works because it makes you smile. “So, this is where the magic happens.”

“Mhmm, but I hope to God my roommates have at least attempted to clean it up some, because I did text them a head’s up.”

“Lead the way, Huang Renjun.” you say and he does. He walks you into his living room where Jisung is currently sitting, playing video games. The smell of something delicious makes his head turn towards the kitchen where he finds Jaemin.

“Hey, Y/N!” he calls out then wipes his hands on a towel before coming in to give you a hug.

“Hi, Y/N!” Jisung says without looking up.

Renjun is amused and a little confused. Perhaps you and Jaemin got even closer while he wasn’t noticing, but Jisung? When had the two of you met? By the looks of it, Jisung was comfortable enough with you that he wasn’t even minding his manners and greeting you properly. Probably because he was too busy dwindling his thumbs on his controller furiously.

“Damn, Jisung, you’re really going at it, huh?” you say to him easily.

“Mhmm. I would’ve been doing even better if Jaemin hadn’t interrupted and kicked me out of my own room because you were coming over.”

There is a two second silence before Jisung’s audience of three begins talking at the same time.

“Jisung!” Renjun yelps, bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, no, we aren’t going to like… do anything--” you find yourself explaining at the same time, face heating up.

“Jisungieeee!” Jaemin also sings out to scold, yet he grins as he mock-chokes the boy.

“You are so dead.” Renjun gives the back of Jisung’s head a death stare.

“Nooo, our Jisungie means well, don’t you, Jisungie?” Jaemin coos while Jisung dodges his kisses.

Renjun shakes his head and places a hand to your arm to guide you along. “Let’s go.”

“I’ve made food if you crazy kids get hungry!” Jaemin calls after you and it’s the most animated he’s been in a while.

His friends being, well, his friends was probably worth it because Renjun is feeling a lot better as he brings you into his room. It had been a while since he had brought a girl over and looking about, he can tell that his mates did a good job at hastily cleaning it.

“Damn, Huang Renjun. You’re a clean boy.” you’re saying as you look about. “I thought you’d be the artfully messy type.”

Renjun grins as he runs his fingers through his hair. “We can mess it up together if you’d like.” But Renjun mentally smacks himself in the head as soon as the words leave his mouth because you’ve looked up at him and quickly looked away, muttering something awkwardly.

“I… I didn’t mean that. I just meant with like, paint and, like…” Renjun blows air out of his mouth and then your eyes meet. Before you know it, you both are giggling at each other because the awkwardness is probably making you a bit delirious.

Renjun watches as you take a deep breath to stop the giggles and turn to start looking around. “Oooh. Mr. Fancypants is a tea connoisseur.” you say as you run your hands over his teabag display box.

Renjun chuckles “Do you want me to make you some?”

“Sure. Let’s have tea, Mr. Fancypants.” you take a seat on his wheelie chair and your eyes go to the artist’s apron you had bought him that is currently hanging on an easel. You give it a fond smile.

“What flavor would you like?” Renjun asks as he puts the kettle on and sets up two mugs.

“Umm… I don’t know tea. I’m a coffee drinker.” you reply, your fingers tracing over the pictures he had at his desk.

“I’ll make you a simple chamomile, then. I’ve seen you and Jaemin enabling each other’s coffee habits and I don’t approve.” he knots his eyebrows.

“Oh no, no, no. Jaemin is on a different level. I took a sip of his coffee by mistake once and my entire life flashed before my eyes. I don’t know if that boy drinks coffee or straight up cocaine.”

Renjun bites his smile because he’s still holding onto the look of disapproval. “That would explain the random spikes and falls in his energy.” he says as he pours out the water in the mugs and seeps the teabags. “Here you go.” he sets your mug on the desk and takes a seat on his bed.

You take a sip “So, which one is your bunk?”

“Top.” Renjun also wants to make an innuendo but he stops himself because the awkwardness surrounding the fact that you and him are alone in his room has only just subsided with the tea.

“Isn’t the bottom bunk more comfortable?” you muse as you drink. You seem to be enjoying your tea because you haven’t set it aside yet.

“Of course it is. It’s why Jisung has it.” he comments, cocking his eyebrow. “And I sleep here on this bed.” He pats where he’s sat.

You grin as you sip then quickly wipe your chin as some tea spills through your smile. “Where do you keep all your paintings?”

“In the studio. On that top bunk. Behind that door. At my grandma’s house.” he lists off on his fingers.

“Why behind the door? If I had your talent, I’d basically cover every bit of my wall in my art. Like the most egomaniacal artist in the world.” you fantasize, looking up at the ceiling.

Renjun chuckles. “I kinda like my space to be a bit cleaner, you know? Because I’m always around art. It kinda helps with my imagination, having a clean environment. It’s almost like a clean canvas.”

“Interesting.” you’ve said and it sounds like you genuinely mean it. “It’s still a bit sad. All the work you’ve created should have a home. It shouldn't be hidden away behind doors or on top bunks.”

“You can give some of them a home if you’d like. If you have space, I mean.” Renjun gives you a fond look. You haven’t replied but you’ve set your mug down and looked at him with a very tender look in your eyes. You stand up.

“I wanna see your bed.”

Renjun grins. “Be my guest.”

“Ooooh.” you make an excited squeal, almost like you're about to enter Dexter’s Laboratory. You plop yourself on it and bounce up and down, almost as if to check the pliability of it.

“So this is where the magic happens.” you giggle and then Renjun finds your gaze moving to a picture frame on his headboard. “Is that your grandma?”

“It is.” Renjun smiles as he watches you pick your feet up and make yourself comfortable.

“She looks exactly like you.” you say, looking back at him with an affectionate look.

“A lot of people say that. People in school used to think I’m adopted because I looked nothing like my parents.” Renjun scoots back to sit next to you.

“Are you close to your parents?” you ask gently, looking at him.

Renjun looks away.

The two of you hadn’t had that many deep conversations. And anytime you did, he had found a way around it so that nothing was shared, nothing was learnt.

But no one had ever asked him that… not in so many words. He finds himself shrugging and responding before he can stop himself. “Nah. They don’t even talk to me. They’ve never really cared.”

“How do you know that, Renjun?” you’re asking him in a very soft voice. The kind of voice that has Renjun sharing more than he wants.

“They pretty much abandoned me very young,” Renjun laughs ironically. “They would fight all the time, you know? Like, they really would go at each other one moment then make up the next moment. They kind of forgot they had a son.” Renjun finds himself saying while his eyes fixate on a loose thread on Jisung’s bedsheet. He realizes he’s warm and comfortable and that’s when he notices that you’ve put an arm around him.

“That must have been so hard, to go through that.” you’re speaking to him so softly and your head and your body is angled towards him, giving him all your attention while Renjun talks into the abyss.

“They were just like… kinda dysfunctional, you know? They fought like crazy and I had to hide away so I wouldn’t hear them. And then the next day, they’d be in each other’s arms like nothing happened. They would pretend like everything was all right. Like the trauma they gave me meant nothing.”

You’re not speaking anymore, only listening. Your hand around him has started to gently stroke his arm. Your other hand softly combs through his hair.

“It was such a vicious cycle and they wouldn’t stop. I think they were kinda addicted to it. They would’ve been happy living like that with each other if it weren’t for me.” He had never shared so much with anyone. But now that he had started, it was difficult to stop.

“Renjun…” you say empathetically and pull him into you. Renjun pauses for a moment, but decides to give in. What did it matter, anyway? He rests his head on your shoulder.

“If it weren’t for my grandma, I wouldn’t even be alive, you know? She saved me from all of that and took me in. She raised me. It wasn’t even her responsibility, but she raised me.”

You are holding him to you and soothingly stroking his hair when you say “Then I think your grandma is the luckiest person in this world. Because she got to see you grow up to be such a good man.”

Renjun feels a lump in his throat grow and before he knows it, there are tears stinging in his eyes. You turn your head and press a kiss into his temple and slowly rock him. It was odd, being here like this, because Renjun realizes that this was the first time you had kissed him. But more than anything else, it was the first time someone had held him like this.

The last time he remembered being held was probably when he was a child, and it had been his grandma. No one since had held him in their arms to listen to him, to comfort him, to love him without any conditions. No one had tried to take his pain away without wanting something in return. The thought puts more tears in his eyes and he finds himself leaning his weight into you.

He allows you to hold him and comfort him and coo at him. You’re speaking to him gently but Renjun isn’t hearing your words. He’s only concentrating on the soothing sound of your voice and how melodic it is. He liked hearing you talk. He’s concentrating on how you’re rocking him, and how the movement is slowly lulling him. He liked how warm and soft you were and how protective your arms were. He liked the smell of chamomile on your breath. Had you enjoyed chamomile? He thought you had. Maybe you would’ve enjoyed a different flavor more. Renjun decides he should make you an Earl Grey next time; it would probably be better suited to your caffeine tastes. Maybe you wouldn’t like Earl Grey as much either, but it would be nice to discover that bit about you. He’d make you try all the flavors till he learnt which one your favorite was.

“How come I never saw your cat?” He asks sleepily after you’ve been quiet for a while.

“Hmm?” you ask, confused.

“Your cat. Galbi. How come I didn’t see him when I came over?” Renjun can feel your smile against his temple.

“Oh. Yeri had dropped him over at the vet’s that day. Do you want to meet him?” you ask him.

“Yeah, it would be nice to meet him.” Renjun says and brings an arm up to cuddle closer into you.

“Okay. Next time you come over, you can meet him… shoulder gangster Renjun.” you’re only whispering at him now as you tease him.

“Mmm.” is the only reply Renjun can manage as he chuckles lazily. He didn’t even feel like killing Donghyuck for telling you about that because he feels so good like this, in your arms. Renjun hasn’t even noticed that you’ve laid him down till he realizes how horizontal he is.

It felt nice. Being held by someone, being protected by someone, being comforted by someone. Your hands haven’t stopped soothing him for a single moment ever since they started. Renjun hadn’t even noticed that you’d put the covers on him. Or that you were kissing the top of his head till he feels the warmth. It all felt so nice. He barely registers that your shirt is wet from his tears. All he feels are the relaxing patterns you’re drawing onto his skin. It’s the last thing he feels as he drifts off. And though you're gone in the morning, Renjun can swear this is the most sound sleep he's slept in many nights. He feels a thousand times lighter, like someone had lifted a heavy weight off of his chest and he was finally breathing fully.

He smiles as he grabs his phone and sees your name right on the top of his notification list. He reads your message:

‘Hey, shoulder gangster. Sorry I left without telling you but you were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you. I wanted to ask you something AND YOU CAN TOTALLY SAY NO. But my brother’s hosting a spring art festival of some sort at my parent’s house this weekend. A lot of his artist friends from his company will be there. Do you maybe wanna come with me?’

And there it was.

Yes, it was funny how quickly people form habits without really meaning to. And in his new habit, Renjun had forgotten the real reason he was with you in the first place.

Eyes on the fucking prize, Renjun thinks as his reality comes crashing back on him.

308 notes · View notes

worth-more-than-two-thousand · 3 years

Text

Omega’s Observations

Request: Congrats on starting the blog!! Pumped to have a new writer's work to read 🥰 If you need some requests, how about an echo/gn!medic reader who he develops a crush on, for a little of that sweet sweet mutual pining action✨ Dunno if you write pre-citadel or just BB echo, but I'm happy with either. Have a good weekend!! :) (@krussyfed)

Author’s Note: Whew! This took a while for me to get to a place where I felt good about posting it. Honestly, as most of my writing does, it got a bit away from me, but that’s because I love fleshing out a story, showing-not-telling, and building on events from the canon. But if I saw this through until the end, I probably wouldn’t end up posting this for months! So I hope what I have here is worth the wait, and if you want more, let me know!

Story Notes: Unbeta’ed, no obvious warnings.

🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑

Ask her brothers to describe her, and ‘still and quiet’ would not be two of the words any of them would use.

Hunter would call her curious to a fault, then ruffle her hair to let her know that he meant it in the nicest way possible.

Wrecker would boom with laughter, proclaiming her one of them (“Always ready for action and adventurin’! Let’s go get those gundarks!”).

Tech would probably consider for a moment, then use a four-syllable word. Like effervescent.

Echo would call her young and energetic, but his brow would furrow as though this might be a bad thing. Then he would inevitably follow up with a reminder to stay within sight and keep out of trouble. She didn’t mind. She knew he just worried about her. Omega would always reassure him that she would keep close to her brothers. Of course, whether it actually happened was usually another thing.

Crosshair, if he was with them, would probably call her troublesome.

But really, this was a tactical advantage. Her brothers never expected her to be still and quiet, so she could settle in and be observant when it was least expected of her.

Omega was actually quite accustomed to being taciturn, at least when she needed to be. Her time with Nala Se, after all, was mostly like this.

Watching over like a stone guardian as Nala Se pored over the capsules containing her modified brothers…

...being as unobtrusive as possible during another endless meeting with Lama Su…

...laying noiselessly and without complaint as Nala Se inserted a needle into her arm for yet another blood sample…

These days, Omega could be as boisterous and vivacious (two more words Tech had taught her) as she wanted to be, so long as there was no chance of enemies being around. The only time she was obediently still by choice during these times was when she was being treated by Y/N, Clone Force 99’s on-board medic.

Again, this was mostly out of habit from her time with Nala Se, but it wasn’t as bad. For one thing, Y/N fielded all of Omega’s questions with unending patience. And their hands were less clinical, more gentle than Omega was used to. Nala Se was efficient, not a movement wasted in her examinations. Y/N, however, always offered a comforting touch on the back after a scary encounter, and would gently but firmly place their hands on Omega’s face to look her in the eye to assess emotional well-being.

The first time Y/N had done this was on the Ordo Moon, as Y/N was finishing wrapping up Omega’s small scratches on her hands and knees from her misadventures in the underground tunnels.

At this point, not used to such close eye contact, Omega averted her eyes and looked over Y/N’s shoulder for something to distract her from the unusual awkwardness she felt.

Her eyes met Echo’s.

Her awkwardness vanished as he seemed to startle, a faint flush appearing on his neck, as he coughed, crossed his arms, and turned away, suddenly much more interested in examining the ship’s ceiling than anything else.

What an interesting reaction. Her brain filed it away, curiosity piqued.

Then, over the course of a few weeks, Omega confirmed her suspicions.

Echo was always watching Y/N. Echo liked Y/N.

Omega caught him absentmindedly gazing at Y/N’s hands as they tapped thoughtfully on a datapad while Wrecker carried new medical inventory aboard the Marauder during a supply run.

After Wrecker’s successful inhibitor chip removal on Bracca, and Tech volunteered to go next, Omega watched Y/N’s hands fly across the medical controls, fierce determination sharpening their features. Glancing up, she saw that Echo’s attention was similarly arrested, a look on his face that was bordering very close to adoration.

He seemed most captivated by Y/N’s hands, however, whenever they were treating him personally for any ailments or injuries. Echo always sat pin straight, almost comedically robotic (it would be funnier, but his history brought a sort of cruel irony to the thought) and allowing Y/N to turn his body and maneuver his prosthetic arm however was needed without any fidgeting or complaint.

But his eyes were another story. Darting back and forth everywhere their fingers touched, such a stoniness to his face that Omega was certain he was committing every graze, every feather-light touch, to memory. Y/N, as always, was so focused on the medical work that they never seemed to notice.

Omega saw things, though. Echo was like Y/N’s shadow, often slipping into the same room or area Y/N was in, like a ghost. She observed with fascination how he always angled himself to face her whenever there was a conversation in the cockpit. It didn’t matter if it was just the two of them, or if the entire squad was there and discussing a mission, it was as though he had attuned himself to wherever Y/N happened to be and was drawn to them.

Like a sunflower always facing the sun.

She saw in the field how Echo, not Hunter, was usually the one to call the Marauder to check in or alert Y/N to any injuries that would need to be treated when they returned. How the space between his brows would crease whenever they would radio in but only receive the static of communications interference.

Or worse, no answer at all.

Echo wouldn’t say anything, but Omega felt that her brother’s steps would quicken, just a little. And she wasn’t sure she was just imagining a sudden sense of urgency in the air as they completed the mission, with just a bit more efficiency, a bit more ruthlessness than was usual.

Omega saw how Echo always let out a tiny breath in relief, as though he had been holding it the whole time, whenever they returned to the Marauder with its medic unharmed.

And she would never forget that one time they had returned to the Marauder, doors blasted open, interior trashed, with no medic in sight and droplets of blood leading away from the ship.

Omega had never been in war, had only heard about it passively from the conversations between Nala Se and Lama Su, then a bit more directly from her brothers once she was allowed out of the private lab.

She had once asked Tech about the war, but his response clearly paled in comparison to the dark look on Echo’s face, as they battled their way through enemy after enemy to rescue Y/N.

Omega felt as though she understood war a little bit more after this. At least its motivations.

It took longer for Omega to figure out whether her brother’s feelings were reciprocated. Y/N’s affection wasn’t as obvious, but the trick was to watch more for their actions than in body language.

Since Y/N and Tech slept the least, they would swap bunks and so were usually on opposite sleep schedules. This meant that Y/N would stay up late into the night well after the rest of the boys had retired to their bunks, face alight in the glow of a datapad. They would concentrate fiercely, chewing on their thumbnail and pausing often to tap notes into the margins.

Omega eventually managed to snatch and break into Y/N’s data pad, and saw that they were working their way through a series of medical journals, detailing the latest treatment for prosthetics. There were also several articles on treating post-traumatic stress disorder for former prisoners of war.

Omega had even checked Y/N’s search history, and discovered that they had been using an encrypted channel to search for chatter on the whereabouts of the former 501st legion and its various members. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Y/N had much luck so far, but if the number of searches were any indication, they weren’t giving up.

Omega wondered incredulously how none of her other brothers had yet caught on to the two’s clearly mutual affection for each other. Until she realized that no, they already knew.

Once, when Omega had offered Echo some of her Mantell Mix, Echo had sniffed it, much to her amusement. Her giggles subsided immediately when Echo murmured apologetically that he sometimes had trouble digesting pretty much any food that wasn’t nutritional paste, due to half his digestive system being completely artificial.

Of course, this meant that he must have been experiencing constant abdominal discomfort, as they hadn’t had any nutritional paste on the ship since their escape from Kamino. Hunter once mentioned to her that even the plainest of rations seemed to bother him, but he gamely never complained.

One day, Hunter was giving out rations in the cockpit, and had already given Tech and Wrecker their usual. Then he pulled out a green, unlabeled squeeze packet instead of the usual rations bar, and handed it to Echo, who took it with some confusion.

“What’s this?”

“New brand. It should be easier on your digestive systems than the usual stuff. Tastier, too.”

Echo glanced at the packet skeptically, unscrewing the cap and sniffing at its contents.

“It smells...fresh?”

“Try it,” Hunter urged him, to which Echo obediently tried a small amount.

His mouth rounded in a surprised ‘oh’. Omega wished she could have captured the look on his face with a holovid. He stared at the packet in his hands, with a look that was a bit like wonder and amazement.

This didn’t escape Wrecker’s notice, who immediately stood up in protest. “What? Why does Echo get something new to eat?” He glanced forlornly at the slightly crumpled, stale rations bar in his hand. “I want some!”

“They’re too expensive for your appetite, Wrecker,” Hunter replied, just a bit too quickly, though none of the others seemed to notice. “Besides, you probably wouldn’t like it.”

“I’ll be the judge of that!” Wrecker proclaimed, swiping the packet from Echo’s hands despite Hunter’s attempt to chastise him. Wrecker took a giant slurp.

...and immediately spat it out, some of it splattering on poor Gronk.

“Blech! That tastes weird.”

“Probably because it’s made of fruits and vegetables,” Tech said dryly, “Your palette likely isn’t sophisticated enough to appreciate the subtle bitterness and natural sweetness that are characteristic of those food categories.”

Echo eyed Hunter skeptically. “And we have the money to keep buying these?”

Hunter hummed, closing the rations box and turning away from the cockpit. “Omega’s paying for it from her holochess winnings.” She startled at the sudden mention of her name. “We have extra to spare, for now.” Hunter subtly winked at her when the others weren’t looking.

“Oh. Thank you, Omega,” said Echo, looking at her with true gratitude. Omega flushed a bit, but mostly because it actually didn’t have anything to do with her. She played along, however, and insisted it was no problem. It did seem to make him happy, so there was no harm in a small lie like that, right?

She cornered Hunter later, though, and insisted on him telling her the truth. After wearing him down a bit, he finally relented.

“Okay, but you can’t tell the others, all right? Believe me, I’ve already tried to talk them out of it. But Y/N has been doing some medical work on the side, working at one of the clinics near Cid’s bar. They’ve been using the money to buy these.”

Omega’s face screwed up in confusion. “Why can’t you just tell Echo that?”

Hunter sighed. “Because they don’t want Echo to know. Figures that Echo wouldn’t like them going out on their own to work in the slums for his sake. They’re probably right, of course.” He rubbed at his forehead, a sure sign of an impending headache.

Omega frowned, then decided to go for it.

“You know they like each other, right?”

Hunter blinked at her, looking surprised. At her determined stare, he gave a sigh and muttered something like, ‘I’m getting too old for this’. He proceeded to explain patiently to her that perhaps Echo and Y/N liked each other, but pointed out how awkward or difficult it could be to have a romantic relationship in such close quarters, especially when they as a team also had bigger things to worry about.

It sounded like Hunter had given this exact speech at least twice before.

So Tech and Wrecker knew, then, but were being polite about it (or, in Wrecker’s case, had probably gotten an earful from Hunter earlier about tact and ‘minding one’s own business’).

Well. That wouldn’t do.

By the time Echo got up the nerve to say anything, he’d probably be old! (Omega wouldn’t, but she tried not to think too hard about that particular fact.)

So, she began to scheme. Quietly.

She had the tactical advantage, after all.

#fic request #arc trooper echo #echo x you #echo x reader #echo #tbb echo #star wars tbb #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #tbb omega #echo x g/n reader #unbeta'd

98 notes · View notes

moonbeamwritings · 4 years

Text

“i’ve never seen you in a sweatshirt before”

Summary: Bruno is the epitome of elegance and grace. Always dressed to the nines, hair always perfectly styled. One night, while you’re thinking about just how bad you have it for him, you see him in a sweatshirt for the very first time.

Author’s Note: This is entirely self-indulgent! I just think it’s cute to think about Bruno and company in comfy clothes for once. Enjoy!

Bruno Bucciarati was a man of elegance, grace, and calculated intelligence. You often envied his capacity for compassion, well, as much as one could offer as a mafioso. He was sweet, criminal activity be damned.

You were drawn to him as soon as you first met him. Kind, understanding, and welcoming all when you needed it the most. You were down on your luck back then, coaxed into a criminal lifestyle with the promise of a famiglia, of something to call your own.

It was strange, really, to reflect on your experiences with your friends. You’d complied with Polpo’s orders, betrayed the boss, and fell into stride with Giorno’s new leadership in an eight day whirlwind of anxiety and enemies. Months later, it seemed that everything had slipped into some semblance of normalcy.

You were resting in bed, your window thrown open to allow the cool, Italian breeze to drift through your curtains. You felt like you hadn’t seen Bruno in weeks, him being so wrapped up in working alongside Giorno that you’d barely been able to even speak to him. The thought made you frown. Against your better judgment, you harbored much more than friendship in your heart for the black-haired mafioso, all the while knowing that he’d never view you in the same way. You shifted your gaze to the ceiling, falling back against your bed as your book laid forgotten in your lap.

He was just so handsome, not to mention calming to be around. Could you really be blamed for missing him? For developing feelings for him? You thought not.

Groaning, you tried to get your mind away from him, to put your brain to use for something other than picturing his laugh or the way he smiled.

“It’s hopeless,” you spoke aloud, “I’m doomed.”

Losing yourself in your thoughts as you traced invisible patterns on your ceiling, you started to drift to sleep.

CRASH!

You shot awake, shifting over to glance at your clock.

For the love of God.

3:00 AM.

With a groan, you opted to at least go down and take a look. If it was one of the guys, then no harm done and you could go back to sleep. If it was someone else… Well, you’d cross that bridge when you got there.

On your way down, another noise sounded from the kitchen followed by frantic shushing, emphasized by the silence that the night brought to the house.

Rounding the corner, you rolled your eyes as they landed on Mista, hunched in front of the fridge like a little rat. To make the situation all the more ridiculous, you caught Narancia scurrying over to fling the pantry door open as well.

“Uhhh, hey guys,” you greeted, leaning against the doorway.

The pair looked over at you as if you’d just caught a couple of raccoons in your garbage can.

“I told you we’d wake someone up, you dipshit,” Narancia hissed at him, reaching over to try and smack at Mista’s shoulder.

Mista reacted almost immediately, scowl highlighted by the soft light of the fridge, “Shut up! You were the one dropping shit.”

“What are you doing up anyway?” You asked, moving to take a seat at the kitchen table.

“Playing video games.”

The reply was brief and in unison as the boys dug around for the food they wanted.

You let out a noise of vague approval, nodding your head despite knowing neither of them were looking at you. The room fell into relative silence, marked by the sounds of bags and containers being moved around. Before long, another set of soft footsteps came from the hallway.

“No,” Narancia whined, “if that’s Fugo, I’m dead.”

“What’s with all the noise?”

The light was flicked on.

It was most certainly not Fugo.

Bruno loomed in the doorway, face slightly rosy and decorated with faint lines. From his pillow, you thought. His usually immaculately styled hair was ruffled, gold clips nowhere to be seen. What struck you, though, was his sweatshirt.

The sweatshirt was light grey, a little too big to the point that the sleeves hung loosely over his hands, and it looked soft to boot. Wow, you thought, that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

In the entire time that you’d known him, you’d never seen Bruno in anything other than his favorite white suit. A combination of him having a habit of working late most nights and you disappearing into your room to unwind before bed. Now, to see him with that sleepy look on his face in one of the comfiest sweatshirts you’d ever laid eyes on? God help you. You fell deeper in love, if that was even possible.

“Mista and I were hungry,” Narancia spoke up first.

“They woke me up.”

You were surprised you could even speak. Your face suddenly felt far too hot and you had to force yourself to peel your eyes away from Bruno’s form.

His eyes shifted away from Mista and Narancia to smile softly at you, “Ah, I see. Well, please keep it down. You two are lucky it was just us.”

He let out a chuckle as he gestured between you and himself, clearly thinking about how much worse the situation would have been had Abbacchio or Fugo stormed down the stairs and started raging in the kitchen.

Mista let out a loud breath, “You’re telling us. Sorry, Bucciarati.”

With a shake of his head, Bruno held up a hand, waving off the situation altogether, “No need, just try to be quiet.”

His eyes moved over to you, “Heading back upstairs?”

You had to blink a few times before you could muster a quiet, “Oh uh yeah,” in response.

He waited for you to push the chair back in and make your way over to him before turning to climb the stairs, bidding the two rats in the kitchen a quiet goodnight. You said the same as you followed behind him.

Your words got caught in your throat as you stopped in front of your own bedroom door, eyes following Bruno as he continued down the hallway.

He looked back at you, shooting you a look of utter displeasure, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To bed?”

“Come sit up with me, if you’re not too tired,” he offered, holding an arm out with a flourish as he opened his bedroom door.

How could you say no to that?

You padded down the hall, entering Bruno’s bedroom and standing to one side as he followed you in.

“You can sit, you know. I don’t bite.”

You reluctantly plopped yourself down, teetering dangerously close to the side of his bed to make sure you kept your distance.

“Come here. What did I just say?”

His voice was all teasing, words marked by a low chuckle as he furiously patted the spot right next to him. You end up sitting shoulder to shoulder against the headboard, so close that all you could focus on was him.

You had it bad.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while. I’m sorry I’ve been busy,” He started, leaning his head back against the wall.

You found yourself smiling before you could stop it, easily slipping into conversation with him despite your nerves, “It’s alright. I get it.”

“Mm, but still.”

There’s something he’s not saying, a dual meaning hanging in the air. For fear of getting your hopes up, you desperately tried to explain it away as you played with your fingers.

“Don’t apologize.”

He began to ask about what you’d been up to in his absence, eager to listen to you regardless of the sleep he’d lose in doing so. You indulged him, as you always did, telling him about the new book you’d been reading and the day out you’d had with Trish a few days earlier.

“I missed you, though.” You offered in conclusion, wrapping up your little report with a small smile.

“Really?” He asked, looking over at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Heh, yeah. I know, it’s kinda dumb.”

“No no,” he was quick to say, “I missed you too.”

You nodded as the room fell into a weird silence. It wasn’t necessarily awkward, but it was nowhere near comfortable either.

“I’ve never seen you in a sweatshirt before.” You decided to say, eager to dispel the strange energy in the room.

“Really?” Came his immediate, incredulous answer.

“Yeah,” you stressed, letting out a playful giggle at his tone of voice, “Never.”

“Huh. I’ve never thought of it before, but I guess you’re right. Do you like it?”

The words came out before you could stop them, “It’s kinda strange honestly… Not in a bad way! It’s cute, don’t get me wrong! I’m just not used to it!”

You snapped your mouth shut as you realized you’d really just called him cute, and to his face no less.

“Cute?” you could practically hear the smile in his voice, “I like the sound of that.”

“I didn’t mean-” You frantically attempted to save face.

Bruno’s laugh interrupted you, effectively shutting you up, “Hey, it’s alright. Thank you.”

You glanced over at him to find him already looking at you, a stupid smile on his face.

“Don’t-” you sighed, embarrassment heating up your face, “Don’t look at me like that.”

His smile only seemed to widen, making your heart thump erratically in your chest, “And you’re calling me cute? You really are something else.”

“What are you-”

He reached up, taking your face in his hands, the softest look you’d ever seen gracing his features, “I think you know what I mean tesoro, you must.”

He sounded desperate, eyes glistening in the moonlight.

You would willingly drown in his eyes from this distance, feeling like a sailor adrift at sea falling prey to an alluring siren song, gripping your very soul to pull you in closer.

He kissed you before your mind could even catch up, completely hypnotizing you with the softness of his lips, the warmth of his hands. You lifted a hand to his chest, fisting at his sweatshirt to drag him even further toward you.

You both pulled away, breathless and warm, refusing to let go of one another. He nuzzled his nose against yours, so close that you could feel his smile, “I love you.”

You’re still breathless, your hand on his sweatshirt and his breath on your face the only things keeping you grounded, “I love you too, Bruno.”

He kissed you again, short and sweet. A simple peck before pulling away to rest his forehead against yours, face still gently held in his hands.

#bruno buccellati x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno buccellati imagine #bruno bucciarati imagine #jjba x reader #jjba imagine

377 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Text

Delight in Misery (ao3) - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

- Chapter 8: Interlude -

Author note: This chapter is an interlude that contains JC/LWJ adult content. It can be skipped without impacting the remainder of the story.

“This is an idea so stupid that I can’t believe Wei Wuxian wasn’t that one to think of it,” Jiang Cheng said.

Lan Wangji didn’t disagree. If either of them had any sense whatsoever, they’d call off this whole idea before it was too late and they did something that permanently damaged the delicate balance of the life they’d built together forever – and they had, somehow, built a life together, cobbled together out of convenience and tragedy and the fact that no one else in this rotten world would understand what it was to miss someone like Wei Wuxian.

It was utter recklessness to throw it away for – what? Indulging some curiosity? Killing some time out of boredom, now that the Lotus Pier had finally quieted down enough for Jiang Cheng to no longer need to work from sunrise until sunset? Now that Lan Wangji didn’t have to hide himself away at all hours, afraid that someone would see him coming and going?

“You don’t even like me like that,” Jiang Cheng complained mutinously, and glared when Lan Wangji nodded in confirmation. “Wow. Thanks a lot.”

“We don’t have to proceed,” Lan Wangji pointed out.

“No, we’re doing this,” Jiang Cheng said at once, because he was contrary down to the last inch of him. “Take off your clothing already. No matter what the Lan sect may think, there are circumstances that call for not wearing four layers of clothing, and sex is definitely one of them.”

Because that was what they were apparently doing.

This was all Mo Xuanyu’s fault for leaving his books lying around – Jiang Cheng had finally succumbed to pressure and ordered his steward to get some for him – and in particular a spring book with pictures that went beyond the merely suggestive into the explicit. Jiang Cheng had picked it up while neatening up the room and gawked for enough time to make a cup of tea; when Lan Wangji had politely asked if he’d perhaps been abruptly struck blind by the contents and, if so, if there was any medicine he would like Lan Wangji to fetch for him, Jiang Cheng had instead turned to him and said, very frankly, “This cannot be a thing people actually do.”

Lan Wangji had, with great patience and an expression of intense suffering, held out his hands for the book.

The years following his awkward initial interaction with Wei Wuxian – the discovery of his own inclinations, the confirmation that they were irrevocably set in that way, his eventual acceptance of that fact – had led him to explore the more idiosyncratic portions of the Lan library. He was no longer the boy that had spluttered and cursed when tricked into looking at some (fairly run of the mill, in retrospect) pornography.

“Mm,” he’d said after a brief examination. “Real.”

“Impossible. Why would anyone -?”

Lan Wangji hadn’t bothered to dignify that with a response.

“It can’t possibly feel good,” Jiang Cheng had protested.

Lan Wangji had graced him with a pitying look. He hadn’t experienced the act in question with another person, of course, but his older brother had been perhaps unduly interested in ensuring that Lan Wangji had access to anything he might need to assuage his curiosity regarding his unorthodox affections, and, well, the Lan sect did always value a thorough approach to learning.

In other words, he’d read a lot.

It might have been left at that, a casual conversation between friends, except that Lan Wangji must have been suddenly possessed by the spirit of Wei Wuxian because he felt compelled to add, “Not that you would ever have a chance to find out.”

And that, of course, was that; once Jiang Cheng’s competitive instincts were awakened, there was absolutely nothing for it but a test to determine who was right.

Little details as to whether or not Jiang Cheng was even attracted to men enough for the question even to matter were dismissed as irrelevant.

And that was how they’d ended up here. About to go to bed. Together.

Though – perhaps that wasn’t exactly how it had started.

Perhaps it had started earlier, when Jiang Cheng had started helping Lan Wangji with those very particular physical reactions he’d had during the period he’d been too weak to do it himself, or perhaps when he’d continued to help him with it long after the trauma of it was no longer so near as to make it impossible for him to use his hands on himself.

Perhaps Lan Wangji should have been the one to stop that – the one to say no, no more, it’s unnecessary, thank you. But in those years of seclusion he had seen so few people, and seen Jiang Cheng most of all; he hadn’t quite been able to give up the desire for the touch of a human hand against his skin. To give up the intimacy of the act, for all that Jiang Cheng routinely brought him to completion as casually as if he were merely rebandaging his wounds, was simply impossible. Nothing could detract from the satisfaction he obtained, even if Jiang Cheng often spent the time talking about something else entirely, complaining about his day or a particularly irritating set of paperwork.

(There was a period in which Lan Wangji had briefly started to develop unsavory connections to the subject of dam rebuilding – luckily the dam project had ended before it had become a real problem.)

At minimum Lan Wangji should have put a stop to it once he was no longer secluded: when he had Lan Xichen’s embraces, gentle nudges from visiting Lan disciples, all the regular physical contact he had grown up with, and now all the casual affection that passed between Jiang sect disciples, of which he was considered an honorary member…it was more than enough to satisfy any skin hunger that might have been compelling him to continue with that inappropriate behavior that neither of them saw as important enough to name.

It had become a habit by then, though, a part of the routine, and the Lan sect thrived on routine.

“You have to remove yours as well,” he reminded Jiang Cheng, folding his clothing up neatly. If they had been lovers, perhaps Jiang Cheng would have been staring at him at this moment – perhaps he would have been tracing Lan Wangji’s body with his eyes, hunger and anticipation on his features – but they weren’t lovers. They were just friends, and that was why Jiang Cheng was fighting to get his shoe off (it had grown too small after too many washings and was starting to fall apart but he inexplicably refused to get new ones) instead of examining a body he’d seen naked a thousand times already during Lan Wangji’s slow recovery. “Do you –”

“If you offer to assist me, I will punch you,” Jiang Cheng threatened, and finally got the shoe off. “And if I hear one word about me needing to replace it –”

“You do.”

“It’s fine. It does the job! What else do you want from a shoe, damnit?” The other shoe was removed. “Leave me alone. I don’t need your help.”

The rest of his clothing came afterwards, tossed casually onto a chair, and Lan Wangji watched out of lack of anything better to do. In the years that had passed he had also seen Jiang Cheng’s body many times, an inevitable result of living across from each other in a place as hot as Yunmeng. Jiang Cheng was undeniably beautiful, all long lines and slender, his flesh marred by the discipline whip as Lan Wangji’s own had been, although in much lower quantity.

No, Lan Wangji concluded. This would not be the problem he had almost been concerned that it would be. For all that Lan Wangji’s heart belonged to Wei Wuxian and always would, his body had no objection to the idea of trying out something new.

“I assume at least some help is not unwelcome,” Lan Wangji said dryly, standing and walking over to put his hand on Jiang Cheng’s cock. At Jiang Cheng’s mild exclamation, Lan Wangji arched his eyebrows. “You can’t even do this? I may have overestimated your bravery.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jiang Cheng said, although he was clearly flustered; he reached out to assist Lan Wangji in the same manner. His palm was callused and warm, as always; Lan Wangji’s cock stirred at once at the familiar stimulus. “It’s been a while since it was someone else, that’s all.”

“You’ve had experience?”

“There’s no need to sound so skeptical about it. I was a teenager once too, you know; Wei Wuxian and I – hey, watch it!”

Lan Wangji relaxed his grip apologetically. “You did for Wei Ying as you do for me?” he asked, and didn’t even care when Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes at his obvious and immediate fascination. It was a good thing that neither of them had any illusions about Wei Wuxian’s role in their friendship, the ghost of him that hung over it all; if they pretended otherwise, they might have hurt each other. “How did he..?”

“You’re not seriously asking me that question,” Jiang Cheng said, but of course Lan Wangji was.

Jiang Cheng glared at him, but Lan Wangji was patient, and as with all things relating to Jiang Cheng, his patience was rewarded.

“You’re a little more direct,” Jiang Cheng finally said, rolling his eyes once again to demonstrate how ridiculous he thought Lan Wangji was being. “You like long strokes, like this, very purposeful – his preference was a bit more playful. A bit of teasing around the head, like this, and then a bit with the thumb…listen, if you’re going to turn that shade of red this quickly, we’re going to have to call this whole idea off.”

“I can do more than once.”

“I’ll give you the whole rundown another time, you pervert,” Jiang Cheng promised, and Lan Wangji’s cock twitched at the thought of it. “Can we please focus on proving you horribly wrong already?”

“I’m not wrong.”

“So you say.”

Lan Wangji rolled his eyes and resumed moving his hand on Jiang Cheng’s cock. It felt nice in his hand, filling out as he stroked it. “Why?” he asked after a moment.

“Why what? Why did Wei Wuxian and I get each other off?”

“En.”

“We were young and stupid, obviously,” Jiang Cheng said. “He was my shixiong. We shared everything, figured everything out together…it wasn’t that weird, okay? It was just lending a friendly hand. Literally.”

Lan Wangji could imagine it. The scene sprang up fully formed in his eyes: Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian as he remembered them from the Cloud Recesses, cheeks still a little fat with youth and glistening from perspiration from the humid Yunmeng air, sitting together side-by-side on a bed with their hands in each other’s laps. Perhaps even the bed he slept in now, or Jiang Cheng’s. And perhaps even back then Jiang Cheng liked to talk of other things while he was performing the chore – his lessons, perhaps.

Perhaps they’d even done it for each other while they’d been at the Cloud Recesses…

“Did you do anything more?” he asked, licking suddenly dry lips.

Jiang Cheng blinked at him. “Like what?”

Perhaps it was petty to use their conversation as an excuse to step forward into Jiang Cheng’s personal space, to use his free hand to rub up and down his chest and tweak his nipples, to use teeth and tongue liberally on his neck, on his shoulder, his collarbone, until Jiang Cheng’s knees had grown so weak from surprise and pleasure that Lan Wangji had to loop his arm around his waist to help support him –

But if there was one thing Jiang Cheng had taught him in all these years, it was that there were times when being petty was the best possible option.

“Can I use my mouth on you?” he asked, and took the incoherent spluttering and vague hand-waving he received as a yes. “Sit down on the bed and lean back.”

Jiang Cheng obeyed without a single complaint, which Lan Wangji accepted as the compliment it was.

“I think I can definitively say no, just so you know,” he observed as Lan Wangji lowered himself down to his knees. “I did not do anything like this with Wei Wuxian.”

“Did you ever want to?” Lan Wangji asked, mildly curious, and then he leaned down and put his mouth on Jiang Cheng’s cock.

“Am I supposed to be having a conversation with you about this?” Jiang Cheng demanded, thrashing underneath his ministrations. Lan Wangji had to hold his hips down with his hands, using a little force. “Now?”

Lan Wangji purposefully stopped moving.

“You are a piece of shit, you know that?” Fingers made their way into Lan Wangji’s hair, careful to avoid his forehead ribbon as they lightly tugged – hmm, that was rather nice, actually. Lan Wangji mentally noted down the preference. “Fine. Ugh. No, I didn’t. It wasn’t like that. It really did just start out innocent, you know. Us being boys and all, measuring the difference in size and all –”

Jiang Cheng paused and rolled his eyes down at Lan Wangji, who had perhaps overly demonstrated his interested in hearing more.

“– yes, you obsessed stalker, I’m getting there. He was longer, I was wider; we called it a tie. Later on, we got drunk and started talking about how we were both worried that we were doing it wrong, except, you know, that would have been way too embarrassing…you know how we were. It turned into a dumb sort of competition about who could do it better, which one of us was the one doing it wrong, who was doing it right – we got into a lot of stupid contests like that.”

A brief pause.

“Don’t say that I’m stating the obvious.”

Lan Wangji’s mouth was full, which was probably the only reason he wasn’t. He really had lost all sense of self-control when it came to deliberately irritating Jiang Cheng, and he wasn’t sure when that had happened. His uncle would be disappointed in him again.

Good.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Jiang Cheng muttered. He’d gotten into the groove of things, his hips rocking slightly as Lan Wangji sucked him, careful not to go too far or too fast for fear of making Lan Wangji gag again – though to be fair, that had been mostly Lan Wangji’s fault for being overly ambitious in trying to take him in too deep that time. The real thing really wasn’t anything like the jade pillar he’d practiced on. “This is ridiculous. You’d better never expect me to do this for you. No way.”

Lan Wangji didn’t bother responding.

“I mean, I guess if my hands were broken. It’s not like I couldn’t do it. I’ve put worse things in my mouth, over the years.”

No response was necessary. Jiang Cheng’s complex about needing to be the best at everything – or at least skilled enough to be respected – was truly a fearsome thing.

Though speaking of which...

Lan Wangji reached with one hand to pull over the small packet of thickened, scented oil that he’d obtained long ago, dipping his fingers into it and working one finger, then another, into Jiang Cheng.

“How do you even think of these things?” Jiang Cheng complained, because he wouldn’t be Jiang Cheng if he didn’t complain. “You must have done nothing but read spring books day and night – hey, wait! What are you doing? I’m going to be the one on top! Not you!”

Lan Wangji hummed and removed his mouth – Jiang Cheng whined in complaint – and then lifted one of Jiang Cheng’s legs, pressing his cock against him. He didn’t get a fist in the face, even when he rocked back and forth teasingly, his cock sliding right up to Jiang Cheng’s slicked-up entrance and then away.

“…just go ahead and do it already!”

Lan Wangji’s analytical mind temporarily blanked out when he pushed inside. It was hot and tight around him, squeezing him – it felt good. Very good.

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng said. His voice was a little unstable, almost breathy. “Fuck.”

“If you insist,” Lan Wangji said, and began moving his hips before Jiang Cheng could correct him. Jiang Cheng grunted as if the sound had been punched out of him. Fucked out of him. “How is it?”

“Why are you asking me, don’t you already – Lan Wangji. You said the picture in the book was realistic.”

Lan Wangji hummed in agreement.

“I assumed that meant you’d done it before.”

That seemed like a Jiang Cheng problem.

“Lan Wangji! Are you saying you don’t know what you’re doing?!”

“I’ve read a lot of spring books,” Lan Wangji said dryly, and started to really put his back into it, long thrusts that felt fantastic to him and from the looks of it not all that bad to Jiang Cheng, either. After a few thrusts, he apparently hit the place described in the books, if he were judging by Jiang Cheng’s sudden moans and a notable increasing in generalized cursing, as opposed to cursing his name in specific.

Lan Wangji finished first, which increased the amount of cursing by a significant degree.

“I can’t believe you –!”

“Would you like to finish in my mouth?”

“It is,” Jiang Cheng hissed at him, “the very least you could do!”

Jiang Cheng was much less polite this time as he fucked his way into Lan Wangji’s mouth, his hands firmly gripping Lan Wangji’s hair and pulling him into place, forcing his way deeper with brutal snaps of his hips.

Despite having recently been wrung dry, Lan Wangji’s cock did its best to give an interested twitch, and Lan Wangji noted that down as well. Perhaps next time he should encourage Jiang Cheng to be the one on top, to see if he would enjoy the sensation more if it was someone else doing the fucking rather than a toy carved out of jade. After all, Jiang Cheng had certainly responded well enough to it.

Lan Wangji was moderately sure there would be another time. Jiang Cheng was not a man motivated by sex – remarkably so, in fact. If anything, he seemed to view physical pleasure, even at his own hand, as a perfectly decent activity, but nothing worth kicking up a fuss over, little different from a massage or a round of acupuncture; neither something especially desirable nor repulsive. As Jiang Cheng himself had admitted, he hadn’t experienced the touch of another since his youthful experimentation with Wei Wuxian, even though Lan Wangji was well aware that he’d received plenty of offers from all types of types of people over the years, and yet the lack hadn’t seemed to bother him.

If not for Lan Wangji, he probably would have continued on with his life without thinking about it any further, either, except perhaps in the theoretical box in his mind that he’d earmarked for having a wife, which he seemed to want only because everyone was expected to want a wife.

That competitive streak again.

But he did have Lan Wangji, who was not naturally inclined towards abstinence, and now that they’d opened the door to having a friendship that included certain additional benefits, he had no intention of shutting that door absent any indication from Jiang Cheng that it no longer suited him.

After all, Jiang Cheng might yet have a wife one day, assuming a patient enough marvel could be found – but Lan Wangji was a Lan, born and bred true, and he would only have one love in his life; he had fallen long ago, chosen long ago. Wei Wuxian was gone, and he would never regret it, nor love another. It had been living with Jiang Cheng, being friends with him, that had taught him to remember joy; what was this, then, but more of the same?

Of course, that was assuming that Jiang Cheng would agree in the future to sate Lan Wangji’s rather prodigious appetites with more than just his hand. He might not. After all, it really wasn’t his area of interest –

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng abruptly said.

Lan Wangji, who was fetching a wet cloth, turned to look at him.

Jiang Cheng was propped up on his elbows, scowling bitterly. “You know what,” he said. “We didn’t even manage to do the right position! The one in the spring book was more – more twisty – you know – with the leg up in the air like that –”

“…mm,” Lan Wangji said. “We’ll do better next time.”

“You’re smirking,” Jiang Cheng said suspiciously. “Why are you smirking? What are you up to?!”

“Nothing,” Lan Wangji said peaceably, putting down the cloth and picking up the oil. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right! I’m – I’m not usually right. Or at least, you don’t normally admit it when I’m right. What am I right about?”

“Did it wrong,” Lan Wangji said, and settled down again. “Need to try again.”

“Try – wait, now? Already?! You can’t be serious!”

Lan Wangji started rearranging limbs. “You’re already prepared,” he pointed out. “‘Avoid needless waste.’”

“Don’t you quote your Lan sect rules at me, Lan Wangji! You’re inhuman! You’re – ah!”

He’d slid right in that time, Lan Wangji observed, all at once in a single smooth slide that made Jiang Cheng moan and his cock start to fill up again; the ease of it must be due to how relaxed Jiang Cheng’s body was after he’d come, and the slickness of both the oil left behind and the new amount he’d added. Definitely a different experience from the previous time, but equally enjoyable.

Well, as he’d said before – the Lan sect always did value a thorough approach to learning.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #delight in misery #if you prefer to avoid JC/LWJ entirely skip this #they're still not romantic though

97 notes · View notes

bnha-mha-imagines · 4 years

Note

Soulmate au: Denki’s tattoo is covered up by Jirou and you both don’t know your soulmates. Jirou tried dating him but he rejects and says that he likes you.( prob why she did that) He still refuses even after seeing the fake mark lmao!!!!! I’m hating on Jirou rn

Denki Kaminari x Reader

AU’s: Soulmate tattoo au, college au

Words: 4074

Warnings: Manipulation, loss of friendship, angst on Jirou’s part, fluff on your part :) i didn’t know which character to follow and keep switching lolol

Summary: You and Jirou are best friends, but everything changes when Jirou realizes you and her crush, Kaminari, share soulmate tattoos. She tries her best to keep you apart…

A/N: Literally I haven’t STOPPED thinking of this request since it came in however long ago. I sat down and wrote it and lowkey didn’t realize how long it got haha. Lol why all the hate on Jirou my dude? XD

----

You and Jirou have been best friends through thick and thin. From elementary school to U.A, you’ve been together to experience all of life’s biggest moments. You were there when Jirou nailed her first gig, you both took pictures together at all of your homecoming dances, and you’ve taken more road trips together than you’d care to count.

It was no surprise to either of your families when you decided to dorm together at the same university. Some friends find that when they become roommates that their living habits are incompatible; not you and Jirou. With everything you’ve been through together, you regarded her more of a sister than a friend.

Jirou trusted you with all of her insecurities, and you trusted her with all of your secret thoughts. You knew that soulmates existed, but never would you have thought you’d be lucky enough to organically find an additional best friend soulmate! You often joked with her about it: “What if we actually secretly have the same tattoo and we never knew?” You’d both laugh, knowing how ridiculous that would be.

Soulmate tattoos only develop after you’ve first interacted with your soulmate, and seeing as you and Jirou have known each other for most of your lives, you both knew that the joke held no weight. However, this did mean that the both of you had a very real chance of never meeting your soulmates or seeing your tattoos develop. It was a sad thought, but a reality that many people face. But you both were still young and in college, and you were hopeful that you had plenty of time.

Even if you did never find your one true soulmate, you knew you at least had a friend like Jirou who you could live your life with. There was no one else in the world you’d rather spend time with, and you knew if and when your actual soulmate came along that they’d have to learn to share.

Truthfully, you were more in love with the idea of soulmates than Jirou. Where you tended to hold what people would call ‘hopelessly romantic fantasies,’ Jirou considered herself a realist and didn’t mind the idea of finding love that wasn’t divinely ordained. It was a growing practice to date without tattoos, and over time the importance of them seemed to lose its touch. Still, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to give your prospective soulmate some time before you give up on it.

The universe, however, always was a lover of irony! Just your luck that Jirou was the one looking to date but you were always the one getting hit on. You knew it frustrated her, though she would never say. You knew, and while you did your best to hide it, you couldn’t help feeling excited each opportunity a tattoo might develop only to feel disappointed when it never showed. You were both luckless in love, but you were luckless together, and that made it a little better.

That was, until Jirou met some guy majoring in computer science named Denki Kaminari. You’ll never forget her face when she got home that night; she was all grins, and you couldn’t help but tease her about it. You were excited for her, you truly were! She had sat across from you on your bed while she told you all about how they had sat next to each other in a math class.

You watched her lips twitch up as she described how he cracked jokes at her throughout the class while she struggled to stifle laughs. Finally, she told you that they were going to hang out the following night, and you screamed while giggling as if you were little kids again.

You helped Jirou pick out the right outfit, sitting on your bed while she tried on clothes for you. You helped straighten her hair while she carefully drew on a thin line of eyeliner. And then, like a parent sending their daughter off, you waved her out the door in your sweatpants and slippers.

Eventually, one hang out turned into many, and Jirou confessed to you that they had become rather good friends. You remember feeling a little disappointed. “Only friends?” you had asked her while she nodded her head. But, she assured you that she was happy about just being friends with Kaminari. And with a warm smile, you believed her.

After a month, stories of the mysterious Denki Kaminari were no longer satisfying. “Jirou!” you practically pounced on her when she came home from her music theory class. “Take me to lunch with you! I wanna meet your friend!”

Jirou looked at you, and though her eyebrows furrowed slightly, she could find no excuse not to agree. Playing with her earlobe, she nodded her head. “Uh, sure! I’m leaving now, though, I just came to drop off my bag. Are you sure you're ready?”

Hopping away from her, you scrambled to throw on your shoes and fix your hair. “Yeah, yeah, I’m ready!” you reassured her, grabbing your keys and your phone. Looping your elbow around hers, you grinned. “I can’t wait to meet your friend! You talk about him so much.”

Jirou nodded, walking with you across campus to the cafeteria she agreed to meet him at. As you walked, you asked her how her class was; you let her speak even though you had no idea what sort of musical things she was talking about.

Finally reaching the cafeteria, you followed Jirou in and scanned the tables, trying to pick out Kaminari based on the description Jirou had rehearsed to you all those times. “There,” you heard Jirou say before she stepped past you. You followed her quickly, peeking around her back to finally see with your own eyes who this famous friend was.

Your eyes caught his hair first; it was a golden yellow, a bright color that fit the wide grin on his face. Reaching the table, you couldn’t help but inhale sharply. The boy was devilishly handsome, and Jirou’s words had not done him enough justice.

“Hey Jirou!” Kaminari drew out his greeting, standing up to give her a sideways hug. You couldn’t help but chuckle as she got embarrassed and shoved him off her. You could tell that in the time they’ve known each other that they’ve gotten close. “Who’s this?” Kaminari was the one to bring you up, and you gasped.

“Oh! Right, sorry,” you apologized, smiling. “I’m (Y/n), Jirou’s friend. Sorry for intruding on your lunch, I hope you don’t mind!” You stuck your hand out to shake his, and when your skin touched you swear the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

He held your hand a little longer before letting it go, his smile meeting his eyes. “Not at all!” he said warmly. “Especially not someone as cute as you! Jirou, you should bring your friends along more often!” You laughed, a little bashful, before taking your seat. Jirou only rolled her eyes, choosing to sit across from you next to Kaminari.

“So you can hit on all of them? Yeah, gross, stay away,” Jirou spoke, causing both you and Kaminari to laugh.

“Ouch, didn’t know you were so protective of them,” Kaminari feigned hurt. “I’m not that bad, am I?” His eyes were teasing.

Jirou tched, smirking slightly. “Oh, you’re the worst.”

Before you could feel too awkward and left out, Kaminari turned back to you. “So (Y/n)! What’s your major?” You told him, and continued the conversation with a few questions of your own. You both got to know each other rather well, and after only a few minutes of talking you realized why Jirou liked hanging around with him so much.

You were talking so much that your throat was beginning to get dry. You didn’t notice how much time had gone by, talking with Kaminari was just so easy. Suddenly Jirou cut into the conversation. You had almost forgotten she was there. “(Y/n), don’t you have class starting soon?”

You blinked, and a quick glance at your phone had you scrambling to collect your things. “Crap, thanks Jirou!” you said, grabbing your bag from the floor. “Kaminari, it was lovely to meet you! We should all hang out again soon.”

Kaminari smiled, a look of amusement on his face as you quickly grabbed your keys and phone from the table. “Denki works fine. And totally! Before you go, take my number.” You exchanged contact information, too busy rushing to notice the look Jirou had on her face. Waving goodbye to both of them, you hurried to class.

Nothing could have prepared you for what happened the next day.

“JIROU!!!!” you screamed from the bathroom. Jirou practically fell out of her bed, reaching the bathroom just as you opened the door. Steam from your shower leaked out from the bathroom into your bedroom. You held a white towel around your body, your hair still coated in shampoo.

“What, what happened?!” Jirou asked, worried. You had a strange expression on your face, wide eyes and a slight flush to your cheeks. With a trembling hand, you lifted your arm to reveal a small design on your wrist. Jirou’s heart seemed to jolt violently as her eyes traced the tiny outline of a lightning bolt on your skin. “I-Is that…?” she couldn’t seem to finish the question.

“Yes!” you screamed again, laughing. Despite the wet towel covering your body, you gave Jirou a tight hug which she returned. Excitedly jumping together, you gushed for a few moments over the tattoo before Jirou forced you to finish your shower.

Once she heard the water go back on, Jirou let her face fall. It couldn’t be because you met Denki yesterday, was it? The universe would have to be cruel to pair you with the one person she’d managed to fall in love with. “No,” she reassured herself with a hushed voice. “(Y/n) had a class yesterday where they met tons of new people. With 50 people in there, it’s much more likely that they met their soulmate there.”

Jirou sat back down on her bed, reasoning with herself as she waited for you to finish showering. She rehearsed that same line over and over in her head so that she could tell you it when you got out again. You met them in your class. You met them in your class.

That night, Jirou was getting ready to leave. You watched as she threw on a hoodie and slid on the converse she had converted into slip ons. “Where are you off to?” you asked curiously. “Going to see Denki?” Jirou didn’t miss the way your voice raised with interest at his name.

With her back to you, you didn’t see the way she rolled her eyes. “No,” she said casually. “Just going to the music practice room again.” She peeked back to see you nod your head and reimmerse yourself into the Netflix show playing on your laptop. Releasing a small, relieved sigh, Jirou left before you could ask any more questions. It wasn’t that she liked lying to you, but she couldn’t help but feel irritated about how chummy you and Denki have gotten recently. The fact that you developed a soulmate tattoo didn’t help either. Besides, he had texted her specifically to come over, not you. She was excited for some alone time with him.

Walking down the familiar path to his dorm building, Jirou let the cool air calm her worries. Trying to reassure herself, she made her way up to Denki’s room and knocked on the door. She barely finished before the door swung open and he pulled her in. “Denki, what?!” Jirou cried, startled.

“Thank goodness you’re finally here, Jirou! You walk like a grandma!” Kaminari said jokingly as he closed the door.

Jirou snorted, her heart warming. Right now, it felt like it did before she introduced you to Denki. Just the two of them in his room, joking around. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” she said, taking a seat on the beanbag that she’s come to love. “So what’s with the urgent texting?” she prodded, a teasing smile forming on her face. “Forgot the notes in class again?”

Kaminari scoffed, crossing his arms with a smile. “No,” he said. “That was one time… okay maybe two. But, no, I texted you because of this!” Jirou felt her heart shatter before Denki even rolled up his sleeve all the way. No way. There was no way. But, the ink didn’t lie. There, on his wrist, was the same small lightning bolt that Jirou had seen that afternoon on your skin.

Jirou swallowed the heartbreak in her throat, keeping a calm face. “You got a soulmate tattoo?” she asked softly. Denki nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Can you believe it!? These are like… super rare now! I swear, I thought I was gonna go my whole life without ever meeting my soulmate. But look!” Jirou didn’t want to look. “That means they’re here on campus somewhere. I interacted with them! Can you believe it?”

Jirou could only manage to nod her head, but it seemed enough for Denki who was dominating the conversation.

“Jirou,” Denki said, his smile audible in his voice. “What do I do? I have no idea what to do!” Jirou’s heartbeat was pounding in her ears. She took a few seconds before she started to answer, willing the tears in her eyes to stay put.

“Well, Denki…” she started, and at the serious tone in her voice he quieted. “It’s not really popular anymore to have a soulmate.” The venom in her words was hidden perfectly, and he didn’t seem to pick up on it as he slowly spoke.

“What are you saying?” he asked, the excitement gradually dying in his voice.

Jirou couldn’t help the words coming from her mouth. “It’s out of fashion, Denki. People are going to think you’re shallow if you wave that around.” Seeing the pain spark in his eyes, Jirou swallowed. “Most people just ignore it and date whoever, you know?”

Denki was silent, tracing one finger over the mark on his wrist gently. “I mean,” Jirou continued, “you could keep it but… I really wouldn’t. Here, let me help you hide it.” Denki still didn’t say anything as Jirou began to dig the foundation out from her bag.

Bringing the chair closer to Denki’s, Jirou gingerly grabbed his hand and began to blot away the small tattoo. The concealer was slightly off color, but it was enough to do the trick. Satisfied with her work, she tried to calm the pounding of her heart. “S-See?” she spoke, breaking the silence. “Just like normal.”

“Yeah,” Denki mumbled finally. Jirou didn’t like seeing him this dejected, but she knew that it had to be done. She knew she could make him happy if he just… noticed her.

“I know what’ll cheer you up,” Jirou offered. Denki lifted his head slightly, eyes dull. “I’ll play a movie. You know… like old times!” Getting no yes or no from Denki, Jirou put a movie on while he sat on his couch. Turning off the lights, Jirou grabbed a blanket and plopped down next to him. As the movie played, she noticed how he kept glancing down at the covered tattoo on his wrist. With a dash of annoyance, Jirou curled up closer to him. He’ll forget about it, she knew. He’ll have her, and he’ll forget all about you before he ever got the chance to know you.

After that day, Jirou tried to keep you from Denki as best as she could. She was the only one who knew about both of your tattoos, so as long as neither of you found out, she should be able to get away with it. She’d ask you about different classmates to throw you off. “Did he have the mark?” “No…” “Maybe it was that other classmate then!” And for a while, this seemed to work… on the surface.

No doubt you were becoming exasperated about finding your soulmate. You retraced your steps many times, but still, you couldn’t find them! As for Denki, Jirou could tell that he was still thinking about his mark. He tried to be present whenever they hung out, but his mind always seemed to drift. The worst part was when you asked about one other. “When will I see Denki again?” “Is (Y/n) gonna be there?” Gosh, it was insufferable! You only met one time and it’s like you’re already in love!

Having enough of it, Jirou devised a plan. While you were out at class, she walked to your desk and borrowed one of your black sharpies. Carefully with the thin tip, Jirou traced out the delicate shape of a lightning bolt on her wrist. You flaunted it around enough where she had a pretty good mental image of it.

Satisfied with her work, Jirou capped the pen and rubbed at it to make sure it was set in place. Reaching for her phone, Jirou texted Denki. We need to talk. I’ll be over in 5 minutes. She was already halfway to his place when he finally replied with a simple ‘okay.’ Knocking on his door, Jirou invited herself in the instant it opened.

“Are you okay?” Denki asked, concerned. Jirou said nothing, only walking to the center of the room before turning to face him.

“Denki,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t reveal it sooner but… I was worried about ruining our friendship.” Silently, she raised her wrist to reveal the forged tattoo. Denki watched, eyes widening as they landed on the small lightning bolt.

He went to speak but Jirou quickly cut him off. “I know I told you to cover yours up but honestly… I was dumb. I was scared. But I’m not scared anymore and I’m ready to be with you. We’re soulmates, Denki…” Jirou smiled nervously. “We’re meant to be together!”

Denki was speechless, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Ahh, wow, Jirou,” he said finally, an awkward chuckle falling from his lips. “I-I… I don’t know what to say.” Jirou felt her nerves wrack through her.

“You don’t have to say anything. We can just… continue like we were! We were practically dating anyways…” At this, Denki seemed to jump, startled. Jirou’s mouth went dry.

“W-Woah woah woah,” Denki defended himself quickly, waving his hands in front of him. “We weren’t dating before… b-besides, Jirou. I’m flattered, really but… I… I already have a date with (Y/n) in a bit.”

Jirou stopped breathing for a moment. “W-What?” Jirou had forgotten that you both exchanged numbers… did that mean you both had started to hang out without her? Wait… no. He didn’t know about your tattoo, there was no way. “Can’t you cancel? Denki, look at my wrist!”

Denki sighed, the nervous smile falling from his face. “Jirou, look. Weren’t you the one who said that soulmates didn’t mean anything anymore? Well… maybe you’re right. The truth is, you’re a good friend! But, soulmate or not, we just don’t… have chemistry like that. I’m sorry. Please don’t make this worse than it has to be.”

Jirou couldn’t move. Her brain seemed to stop firing completely at his words. After a moment of waiting for a response, Denki sighed. “I’m sorry. But, uh… I actually have to go meet (Y/n) so…” he checked his watch. “I don’t wanna rush you, so just lock the door before you leave? ...text me later. We can talk more later if you need.”

And then, just like that, he was gone through the door. Jirou’s hands fell limp at her sides, staring where Denki once stood. She felt her knees buckle before she hit the ground, a silent sob rippling through her. Angrily, she scrubbed raw at her wrist, only barely smudging the ink. Her phone buzzed tauntingly, your name lighting up her screen like salt to the wound. Vision blurred with tears, she blocked your call.

“Aww man, Jirou!” you hissed under your breath at the sound of her voicemail, pulling the phone from your ear. With a sigh, you set the phone on your lap, your legs swinging gently off the bench. Right now, you could have used a word or two or encouragement from your friend.

Sure, you knew you hadn’t told her about the date yet, but were you really at fault? Jirou had grown oddly distant recently, and you barely had a chance to speak to her these days. She was always running off to the practice room, though you had a feeling she may have been lying a few times about it.

At first she’d been happy to help you find your soulmate, helping you pick out which guy to investigate. But once you ran out of classmates, she seemed to abandon the search all together! You could only think of one other person… the boy who you were currently waiting to meet on the campus bench.

You and Denki had been texting ever since you exchanged numbers, though this was going to be the first time you saw each other since your first meeting. It seemed rude to hang out together without Jirou, but by now your curiosity had overcome your sensitivity. All you had to do was look at his wrist. You just had to know…

“(Y/n)?” you heard a voice call your name, and you looked up to see none other than Denki Kaminari walking towards you. He seemed a little on edge, but one flash of your smile and he seemed to relax completely.

“Denki! Hey! Good to see you again,” you chirped, standing up to give him a hug. Though this was technically only your second meeting, you felt as though you practically knew him already from all of your late night conversations.

His arms hung around you for a little longer than an ordinary hug would have lasted, but you liked the way it felt nonetheless. Pulling away, your smile softens a bit. “So…” you start slowly, your voice adopting a tone of apology. “This may seem a little strange or old-fashioned…but I think it’s worth a shot.”

You watched Denki’s expression carefully, his eyes willing you to continue. You bashfully played with your thumbs. “Do you… do you think I could see your wrist?” You watched his eyes widen, and immediately fear you overstepped a boundary.

“A-Ah,” you stutter, quickly back-tracking. “I swear I’m not a weirdo, it’s just--!! Here, look.” Without a question, you push up your sleeve and offer your wrist to him, revealing the small thunderbolt tattoo.

Denki’s breath hitches, and you observe his reaction carefully. “No way,” he mutters breathily. “Thats--”

“A soulmate tattoo, I know,” you laughed softly, already beginning to drop your wrist. “They’re rare, but I got lucky! Well, not too lucky. I can’t find them anywhere! That’s why I, you know...” Denki didn’t move, and you were beginning to suspect he didn’t have what you were looking for.

“Sorry for making it weird. I didn’t mean to lead you on, it’s just that… I need to find them. I’m sorry, maybe I should--”

“No, wait!” Denki cut you off, catching your wrist as you turned to leave. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks as he turns your wrist over to stare at your mark again. After a moment, he wordlessly turns over his own wrist, and with a few hard scrubs… reveals his own hidden tattoo.

You feel a mix of emotion at the sight, gently taking his wrist in both of your trembling hands. “I-It is you…” you gasp. “But you covered it up.” Hearing your voice droop slightly, Denki takes your hands in his own.

“I didn’t want to,” Denki explained quickly. “I think we’ve both been misled.”

You paused a moment before realization dawned on you. “D-Do you mean that… that Jirou?” Denki nodded, taking you into another tight hug.

Face pressed into his chest, you allow yourself to be washed over by his warmth. He smelled like lemongrass and lavender, and the feeling of his lips pressing against your hair filled you with an indescribable tenderness.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” he said, a choked laugh sounding from his chest. “I found you, (Y/n). I found you.”

2K notes · View notes