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queen-of-deans-booty · 1 day

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Soul Survivor: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: Sam begins the process of curing Dean while you sit back and watch Dean get worse before he gets better. One thing is for sure: you're going to have a lot of fun drowning his soul in pain.

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

A couple of hours go by with a couple of more dosages being put into Dean. You and Sam walk into the dungeon expecting to give Dean his last dosage when you halt by the entrance into the storage room. There in front of you is an empty chair. Dean is no longer tied up.

"Well, that's not good," you say.

"Come on," Sam whispers.

He has his demon knife to protect himself with while you have your gun with devil's trap bullets in the magazine. Dean is around here somewhere looking for you two but you're not going to become his next victim. As you and Sam roam the hallways, you can hear Dean opening and closing doors as he looks for you. Sam motions for you to follow him and you do so without a word.

He makes his way to the war room where there is a set of keys inside one of the drawers. He grabs them as quietly as he can but is startled by a noise he thinks is coming behind him.

"Scared much?" you chuckle.

"Shut up. Come on," he whispers and leaves the war room.

"Come on, Sammy!" Dean says, his voice echoing off the walls. "Don't you want to hang out with your big brother? Spend a little quality time?"

Thankfully you don't run into Dean on your way to the control room. Sam unlocks the door and shuts it quietly behind you. In the back is a gated area where all the controls are for the Bunker. You stay by the door while Sam walks into that gated area to mess with the controls. He flips the switch that locks down the place. Red lights flood the Bunker immediately. If Dean doesn't know where you are, he sure does now.

No one can get out. No one can come in. This is a cat-and-mouse game that will end in someone dying, for sure... and it's not going to be you.

"Smart, Sam! Locking the place down." Dean's voice echoes from where he is so you can hear him. "The doors won't open. I get it. Here's the thing: I don't want to leave! Not until I find you and Y/N!"

Dean is for sure making his way down to the control room to turn the power back on so if you leave, he will definitely see you. You and Sam hide behind one of the large computers that is big enough to fully conceal you. Sam looks at you in confusion when you duck down next to him.

"I thought you weren't on my side."

"I'm not but we have a common enemy, so there's that."

"Sammy! Y/N! You two are just making this worse for yourselves! By the way, you can blame yourself for me getting loose. All that blood you pumped into me to make me human made me less of a demon. The less of a demon I was, the less the the handcuffs worked. I just walked right across the devil's trap. It hurt like hell but it worked."

The door to the control room opens and you and Sam hold your breathing as if he can hear it. You two move away from him as he walks past the computers and makes his way to the controls. You and Sam sneak out of the control room just as Dean flips the switch back to normal. The red lights disappear and the Bunker returns to normal.

"Yeah, that's more like it."

Sam immediately pulls the door shut and uses the keys to lock Dean inside the control room.

"That's your big move?" Dean chuckles.

"I mean, it is kind of weak," you shrug.

"Shut up," Sam hisses at you. "Dean, listen to me. We were getting close, okay? I know you're still in there somewhere. Just let me finish the treatments." Nothing comes from inside the room. No response. No indication that Dean heard what he said. "Dean?"

All of a sudden, the wood on the door splinters as Dean rams a hammer into it. He hits the door again and this time, wood breaks off of it and flies across the room.

"You act like I want to be cured!" Dean hits the door until there is a hole big enough where Dean can look at you and Sam. "Personally, I like the disease."

"Dean, stop that! Look, I don't want to use this blade on you!" Sam yells.

"That sucks for you, doesn't it? Because you really mean that!"

Dean continues to hammer the door as more and more wood breaks off.

"Look, if you come out of that room, I won't have a choice!"

"Sure you will. I know which one you'll make. Isn't that right, Sammy? Here's the thing: I'm lucky. Oh, hell, I'm blessed because there's just enough demon left in me that killing you isn't a choice at all. I'm gonna start with him and I'm gonna end with you," Dean glares at you.

"We need to go," you say and slap Sam's arm.

Just as Dean breaks through, you and Sam run off in the opposite direction.

"Sammy? Y/N! Come out, come out, wherever you are!" You and Sam break off when there is a split in the hallway so that you go down one side and Sam goes down the other. "Come on! Let's have a beer and talk about it. I'm tired of playing. Let's finish this game!"

You turn your head to see if Dean is behind you but you end up crashing into someone's hard chest. Dean smirks at you, grabs your shoulders, turns you around, and pulls you flush against his back. Sam comes around the corner just in time to see Dean put a knife to your throat.

"No! Stop!" Sam gasps.

You're not scared at all. Dean can slit your throat without a second thought, so why would you be scared? He's not going to, not after what you two have been through for the past couple of months.

"Do it," you smirk and keep eye contact with Sam.

"No, Dean, don't do it!" Sam begs.

"Okay. Fine. You choose. It's you or her, and if you don't choose, I'm gonna kill you both."

Dean doesn't have a chance to do either because arms wrap around his shoulders. You're pushed away from him, and you turn to see Cas standing there trying to hold Dean back. He's using whatever strength he has to hold Dean back who is giving him a good fight.

"It's over, Dean," Cas says. His eyes glow blue with grace. "It's over."

With Cas here, he's able to get Dean back to the dungeon where they finish the treatments. You're standing outside the room with your back to the wall so that they can't see you. There's no way you're going to let you be the first thing Dean sees when he's cured. Sam administers the final dosage and pulls back from his brother who is slumped over in the chair. There are tons of needle marks on Dean's arm to signify just how many times Sam has poked his brother.

"What the hell are we doing to him, Cas? I mean, even after I gave him all that blood, he still said he didn't want to be cured. He doesn't want to be human."

"I see his point. Only humans can feel real joy but also such profound pain. Maybe that's what's happening to Y/N. This is easier."

Dean gasps awake with black eyes. The black dissipates so the only that's left over is Dean's forest green eyes. Sam grabs the holy water and unscrews the top to test if Dean is really cured. Dean groans in pain and cracks his neck to work out the kinks. Sam and Cas stare at him with uncertainty.

"You look worried, fellas," Dean chuckles.

Sam splashes Dean's face with the holy water but nothing happens. Sam smiles in relief and Dean smiles in worry. You roll your eyes knowing that Dean is back to his loving self. You kick off the wall and stalk to the library for a drink.

"Welcome back, Dean."

Once in the library, you grab a glass cup and pour a triple. Alcohol doesn't have any effect on you like it used to, so drinking this much doesn't concern you. Cas walks minutes later looking for a book. He hasn't noticed you yet so you sit down and watch him. He grabs a book on demonic possession as if that's going to help him. Sam walks in ten minutes later without Dean.

"Hey, how is he doing?" Cas asks.

"He's still a little out of it but better, I think. I think the whole blood cure really wrecked him."

"Yeah."

"On the plus side, he's hungry again so I'm just going to go pick him up a big ol' bag of shit food and stuff it in his face myself. Do you mind keeping an eye on him?"

"Yeah." Sam goes to leave but the angel stops him. "Wait, Sam, I'm happy he's no longer a demon but that's only one problem solved. He still has the Mark of Cain. Sooner or later, that's going to be an issue."

Yeah, you have the Mark as well. What's it going to do to you in your state?

"Listen, I'm beat, man. One battle at a time, you know? I'm just gonna go grab my brother some cholesterol, and then I'm gonna get drunk."

Sam leaves without another word, and you down the rest of your glass.

"Yay, Dean is cured," you say sarcastically. Cas jumps at hearing your voice and turns to you. You set the glass down on the table and get up. "What a shame. I'm gonna miss that demon. At least he wasn't so emotional and whiny."

"What happened to you?" Cas asks and walks over to you.

"The best thing ever. I don't care about anything. Every little thing that was weighing on my shoulders is no longer there. If it is, I couldn't care less about it."

"May I look inside of you?"

Cas raises one of his hands to touch your forehead but you grab his wrist tightly and quickly.

"If you touch me, I'll break this hand."

"What the hell has gotten into you?" Cas asks and yanks his hand back.

"What the hell's gotten into me? Shall I recap how shitty the past couple of years have been? First, Henry Winchester is responsible for bringing Abaddon into our lives. Second, my idiot of a husband dug her up when she was buried permanently to ask her a fucking question only to have her escape. That caused us to look for ways to kill her, leading us over to Cain and his fucking Mark which is what both Dean and I took.

"Not to mention the civil war that was happening in Hell at the same time a civil war was happening on Earth because of angels you shoved out of Heaven in the first fucking place. You let yourself get manipulated by Metatron who, don't get me started, is a complete egotistical dick. He forced the angels to take sides. They could either be with Metatron in hopes of returning home or be with a wannabe angel with stolen grace in hopes they overcome Metatron.

"Not only did a war begin that you fucking started in the first place, but it sent Metatron to destroy Dean because he knew the only thing that could stop him was that fucking mark and that fucking blade. If Metatron didn't want to kill Dean, there couldn't have been a mark. For there not to be a mark, Abaddon would have never shown up. If Abaddon was never here, Sam and Dean would have never needed her to figure out one of the trials. The trials that came from the demon tablet and gave us the knowledge of an angel tablet. The angel tablet that you used to aid Metatron in casting out all the angels from their home. The same Metatron who killed my husband.

"Somehow it all leads back to you. This is your fault. So, tell me, what the hell do I have to be happy for?" You take a step closer to Cas and glare up at him. "How about you do us all a favor and let whatever grace you've stolen die out. A least that will save us from whatever pain you bring us next."

With that, you leave him standing alone in the library with sad eyes and a heavy heart.

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#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester angst #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural angst #spn #supernatural series rewrite #supernatural season 10

14 notes · View notes

karatekels · 9 months

Note

Okay so this one's inspired by your latest work🤭.

What do you think about an enemies to lovers kinda gig with kk3 Terry 👀

The reader is an employee at Dynatox, she's the best they have, other than Margaret of course. But she doesn't like him😏

He obviously finds it rather interesting that someone isn't quite charmed by him for once. A good game of cat and mouse and eventually she'd fall for him,but not after pushing his buttons at some event he's hosting. Maybe entertaining some guy for the time being to see the jealousy pour out of Terry...

I love love love your writing so this one was hard to resist 🤍

Ooooh, this one is fun! Thanks for the request, and I hope you enjoy! It's a long one, friends, so BUCKLE UP.

TW: Very inappropriate workplace relationships, rough sex, spanking, dirty talk, Terry being a possessive, controlling asshole (we love him for it)

Also, I will only half-apologize for using the “gay friend pretends to be boyfriend” trope, because *I know* that it’s a horrible cliché but I couldn’t resist.

---

Cat & Mouse

---

“Y/N, Mr. Silver wants to see the Cambodia report,” your assistant tells you, sticking her head into your office.

“It’s in the filing cabinet, second drawer,” you respond, not looking up from your desk. You had enough on your plate, and this was what assistants were for, after all. You still feel her eyes on you from the doorway after a moment, and look up at her expectantly. She hesitates.

“He asked for you specifically, Y/N,” she adds, and you suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

“Of course he did,” you mutter, taking a calming breath. “Thank you, Jess,” you add, dismissing her with a smile, which you drop the instant she closes the door.

Your boss, Terry Silver, did this every so often, asking you to do things outside of your job description so he would have an excuse to pester you. It wasn’t overt enough to be flirting, but it was insistent to the point of getting annoying. You were here to work, and you were damn good at your job; you hadn’t come to a company like Dynatox to be eye candy for the boss.

Dynatox was always ranked among the top of Fortune 500 companies, and you knew that continuing to work your way up the ranks here would open all kinds of doors for you. It wasn’t as if you didn’t like your job – you loved it, and you were good at it, and if your boss would just let you be it would be an ideal position. If he could just stop with the teasing…

He likely wasn’t even actually interested in you; people like him – rich, attractive, successful – were just used to everyone fawning all over them, throwing themselves at them, and he was likely just put out that you didn’t have time for that bullshit. It was all probably just a cat and mouse game to him, and so he had decided to do what all children do when they don’t get what they want: pester, and prod, and tease, the equivalent of pulling on your pigtails in the schoolyard.

Fortunately, you were a professional, and had thus far been able to maintain a no-nonsense approach when it came to responding to his flirting, all while remaining respectful. He couldn’t be annoyed at your refusal to play along with his dumb little games.

Sighing, you retrieve the needed file from the cabinet and make for Mr. Silver’s office, just wanting to get this over with. Approaching the door, you knock twice, stepping inside after his “Come in!” and pointedly leaving the door open. This would be a quick delivery; no funny business.

He’s lounging in his office chair, feet on his desk, crossed at the ankles, casually looking over a file in his lap as though he hadn’t expected you to walk into his office. He looks up at you after a moment, smiling brightly at you, tossing the file onto his desk carelessly.

“If it isn’t Miss L/N! How’s my favourite employee?” he asks cheekily. You bite the inside of your cheek.

What a fucking schmuck.

“I have the Cambodia report for you, Mr. Silver,” you reply, ignoring his greeting. Approaching the desk, you slap the file down next to his polished shoes. He picks up the file, unperturbed by your clear annoyance, and lazily peruses it while you stand there, silently seething.

“Will that be all, Mr. Silver?” you ask, trying not to grind your teeth. He holds up a finger, not taking his eyes off of the document. You think you can see a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips and immediately start calculating your anticipated bonus check for the end of the year in your head, needing a distraction to prevent yourself from leaning over the desk and slapping his stupid, perfectly sculpted face. Why did the worst people seem to have all the luck?

Nodding once, he snaps the file shut, extending it towards you with a smirk. You move to take it from him, but he doesn’t let it go.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” he asks, blue eyes twinkling at you. His flirting had become outright brazen lately, and you briefly wonder if HR would even bother with a sexual misconduct case against the Big Man himself. You doubted it.

“Yes, Mr. Silver,” you lie, tugging the file out of his hands. “I need to finish on time today,” you add pointedly, and he smiles placatingly at you.

“Very well then. Thank you Y/N, that will be all,” he dismisses you. You turn on your heel and leave his office without another word, grumpy that he had wasted your time in order to ogle you yet again.

--- Terry’s POV ---

Terry takes the time to check you out as you all but storm out of his office, his eyes running from your high heels up your toned calves to where your legs disappeared into your pencil skirt, grinning wolfishly at your back.

God, he loved riling you up.

You had been with the company for two years now, working your way up the corporate ladder, but he had only been introduced to you a few months ago, when you’d been promoted to the point that you would be working on the same floor as him. He had heard your name before, of course, as everyone praised your work ethic and talent, but he hadn’t been told that you were fine as hell, especially in your tight skirts.

He had wanted you immediately, going out of his way to call you into his office at the earliest opportunity for a casual “introduction to the boss.”

He had been incredibly charming, planning on reeling you in by that single meeting alone, and he knew that you were aware of his intentions, but you brushed him off, seemingly unaffected by his flirting.

Initially, he had been baffled.

He was Terry Silver, international playboy extraordinaire. He was rich, handsome, successful, charming… he was the whole package, and you had dismissed him without a second thought, your face impassive except for the raising of one elegant eyebrow, asking him if that would be all.

Fuck no, that wouldn’t be all. He had far more in store for you, and he intended to get to work at the earliest opportunity.

The more he pursued, the more determined you were to refuse him, and it was starting to drive him batty. There had been a few nights at home, high out of his mind on cocaine, where he debated just taking you, wanting you out of his system by any means necessary. But no, you also had to be an exemplary employee, and he knew from experience just how hard those were to find.

Was it so much to ask for you to pull double-duty, working hard for the company and letting him work you hard on your time off? Terry didn’t think so.

So, he had been biding his time somewhat, settling for increasingly salacious flirting at the office, making excuses to be in your presence as often as possible. And damn but if he didn’t start to actually like you; your sarcasm and quick wit making him actually look forward to seeing the fire in your eyes as he came onto you yet again.

Yes, the chase had become quite fun… but the time had come for the predator to snatch up his prey.

He needed a way to get you to loosen up around him, somewhere where you couldn’t use work as an excuse to escape him.

Terry presses the intercom on his desk, summoning Margaret into his office.

They had some planning to do.

--- Reader’s POV ---

The office is abuzz the next day as you arrive to work, and it has you on edge immediately. People excitable at a company like Dynatox was never a good sign. Was it another lawsuit? Some scandal at one of their competitors? Deciding not to try to guess the source of the gossip, you walk to your office to get to work; it would find its way to you eventually.

Sure enough, your assistant sticks her head in your office within the first hour of the day.

“Y/N! Did you hear?” Jess exclaims excitedly, looking mildly annoyed by the blank stare you give her in response. “Ahh, check your mail and read the memo from Mr. Silver! It’s going to be great!”

Sighing, you pull the stack of papers out of the “incoming” basket for mail on your desk, flipping through until you come to the memo, printed in glossy colour. Skimming it quickly, you see that Mr. Silver has announced a mandatory gala for all employees the weekend after next, to celebrate the success of the company.

So now you were going to have to come in on the weekend and deal with his crap? Lovely.

There was a post-it note stuck to the bottom of the memo.

See you there. – T.S.

Seething, you crumple the note in your palm, tossing it into the bin. You half-believed this party was just some scheme to further annoy you. It was ridiculous to think so, but the man was ridiculously persistent, and you wouldn’t put it past him. What was it going to take for him to finally drop it and leave you alone?

You move to toss the flyer away, but text at the bottom – previously covered by the Post-It – catches your eye.

Those who wish to bring a guest should RSVP to Margaret as soon as possible.

You bite your tongue to fight back what would have been a particularly wicked grin. Bingo.

Sticking your head out of your office door, you tell Jess that you were taking an important call and were not to be disturbed, closing the door firmly behind you.

You had some planning to do.

---

Your scheming had gone on for longer than you had anticipated, so you had had to stay late at the office to finish your work, but you were now finally ready to go home. You were exhausted, but it had been worth it; you were almost looking forward to the party now.

You head into the elevator, enjoying that you were the only one that stuck around this late and could breathe comfortably for once in the normally cramped space. That is, until a large, bejeweled hand appears between the nearly-closed doors, causing them to open again.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Mr. Silver looms in the doorway, smiling down at you before striding into the elevator, standing far closer to you than necessary in the otherwise empty space. You tense up, but don’t take the bait, standing your ground.

“Hey, Y/N! Wow, you’re here late – burning the midnight oil?” He quips, irritatingly chipper for this time of night.

“Yes, Mr. Silver, I had a few loose ends to tie up,” you respond, trying to keep the smirk out of your voice.

“It’s dedication like that that makes this company so successful,” he replies cheerily. You nod tightly in response, wishing for the first time you hadn’t worked your way up to such a high-up office. The elevator was taking forever.

“That’s why I couldn't help but put on the gala next weekend,” he continues, clearly goading you. You feel his gaze at the back of your head, but stubbornly refuse to turn around. “I hope you’re excited!”

With only a couple floors to go, you can’t resist the opportunity to wipe what is most assuredly a shit-eating grin off the man’s face. You turn to face him, giving him a beaming smile that definitely takes him by surprise.

“Absolutely, Mr. Silver,” you say, forcing every shred of enthusiasm you can muster into your tone. “Me and my date will see you there, boss!”

The elevator doors open at the perfect time, and you turn to exit, walking away without another word to the man, fighting the urge to turn around and see his reaction. You’d have the chance to appreciate it at the gala.

--- Terry’s POV ---

Terry broods in the back of the limo on the way home, trying not to bite the end off his cigar in his anger. A date? There was no way. He regularly paid employees to feed him gossip, asking several in particular to get information about you from your assistant; the girl was an open book. She had never mentioned you being in a relationship; you had told her you were focused on your career. Had you lied to her? You didn’t seem the type, but then, you were a private person.

He had a couple of weeks to get to the bottom of this – and he would get to the bottom of this – and was more than willing to spend the necessary resources finding out who this other man was, if he even existed. Terry Silver was not threatened by competition, but he didn’t enjoy being out of the loop.

“Margaret, take a note,” he requests, exhaling smoke from his cigar. The woman, poised to help as ever, clicks her pen.

“Get a group of PIs together. I want them watching Y/N L/N from tomorrow until the gala. Look for any men she speaks to for more than a cup of coffee and get me background checks on them.”

“Yes, Mr. Silver,” she replies, keeping judgement out of her tone as always. That was the main difference between Margaret and you, he realized; well, apart from Margaret practically being a surrogate aunt to him. You were both excellent employees, but while she easily removed her own opinions and feelings on his business dealings from her work, you were a firecracker, barely able to keep yourself from blowing up at him at every opportunity. He did so want to push you over the edge, in every way he could…

Terry takes another drag of his cigar, satisfied. A lover didn’t present a threat to him; he’d just find out what it would take to get rid of him – money, blackmail, a good, old-fashioned beatdown. You’d be his by the end of the gala.

He’d make sure of it.

---

A week has passed since he put the order out, and so far nothing had come of it. You had barely left your house other than to work, and he’d had people stationed outside your home 24/7. No one had come or gone beyond the odd deliveryman. You hadn’t been seen out in public with any men beyond the odd family member, either. He was now convinced that the man in question didn’t exist, and finds himself surprised at your tactics. He figured that if you had thought making up a boyfriend would be enough to deter him – it wouldn’t – that you would have done so by now, and you hadn’t.

Surely you knew him better than that by now, didn’t you? He’d be disappointed otherwise.

There are a few days left before the gala, and he uses them to poke the bear further, seeing if he can get you to admit that there is no mystery man in your life.

On Wednesday afternoon, he shows up himself at your office door, not even trying to be subtle about pursuing you anymore. Everyone else knew to get out of his way and leave him to his antics. Boss’s orders.

“Y/N, sorry to drop this on you last minute, but I need this taken care of by the end of the day, alright?” he says in his best innocent voice, dropping a stack of file folders on your desk. You don’t look up at him or respond right away, but he sees your grip on your pen tighten, and smirks.

You look up at him after a long moment, your face a neutral mask. “Yes, Mr. Silver,” you reply, not giving him anything. Breaking you was going to be so much fun…

“I hope that staying late doesn’t interfere with a hot date with your man or anything,” he adds, unable to resist pushing you on the subject.

“No, not tonight,” you reply absently, looking through the stack of papers he’d tossed your way. He decides to drop the matter there, and turns to leave.

“We’re looking forward to blowing off some steam the night of the gala,” you call out when his back is turned, your voice deliberately husky, and his back stiffens. You were such a fucking tease…

He leaves your office without another word, immediately making plans to go to the dojo and blow off some steam of his own.

--- Reader’s POV ---

You finally get your hair just perfect, managing to look both elegant and sexy as it cascades down your shoulders. You’d been at it for what felt like forever, but you were finally ready: hair half up and curled, smoky makeup, a pair of pumps, and a deep red dress that made you feel like sin personified.

You had had a great time messing with Terry over the past couple of weeks, really laying it on thick the closer to the event you got. His visible frustration at your insistence that you had a boyfriend had been amusing, and there had been a couple of times where you were briefly worried you had pushed him a bit too far with your teasing. Hopefully after tonight, he would get the message and leave you be. You were almost regretting it; giving the man a taste of his own medicine had made work downright enjoyable.

There’s a knock at the door, and you head over to greet your “date” for the evening. You open the door, revealing your friend Mark, looking dashing as always as he leans against the doorframe, a small bouquet of roses in hand. You take him in with your eyes: tanned skin, short curly hair, deep brown eyes, in a perfectly fitted black suit with a shirt that matched your dress, the first few buttons undone.

“Well hellooo, gorgeous,” he purrs, and you roll your eyes at him, tugging him into a hug and laying a kiss on his cheek.

“We’re not there yet, Mark, you don’t need to start with that yet,” you laugh, pulling him inside.

“I figured I’d practice now, make it more convincing,” he jokes, grinning at you like a loon. You and Mark had met in college, in an elective theatre class, and had bonded right away over your love of wine and beautiful men, and had been friends ever since. He had spent many nights passed out on your couch, and you were happy to finally call in one of the (many) favours he owed you by having him play your boyfriend for the evening.

“Thank you again for doing this,” you tell him earnestly. You knew he would play the part perfectly, and he had been on board from your first phone call to him when the gala had first been announced.

“Are you kidding? Acting out gay cliches is what I live for!” he quips. “But really, run me through this again; I don’t want to fuck up.”

You rattle off the plan again: he would wait at a distance for Terry to approach you when you were alone – you had no doubt that he would – and then swoop in, all good looks and dazzling charm, acting like you were the perfect couple for the evening, doing your best to assure your boss that pursuing you was a pointless endeavour.

“Just keep your wits about you, alright? This guy is a sneaky bastard, and ridiculously persistent.”

“Oh, to be pursued endlessly by a wealthy man,” Mark laments, and you snort at him. “What’s this guy look like? How will I know who I'm looking for?”

“Tall, ponytail, annoying; you won’t be able to miss him,” you rattle off. “Oh, I know!”

Walking over to the coffee table, you pick up the most recent copy of Time magazine, flipping through it to the article on Dynatox. “Here, this is him,” you offer the magazine to Mark, pointing to the glossy photographs of the man in question. He whistles lowly.

“Damn, he’s fit. Why are you rejecting him again?” he asks, and you roll your eyes.

“I don’t care if he’s Eros in the flesh,” you snap. “He’s pretentious, he’s annoying, and he thinks he’s entitled to anyone he bats an eye at.” Mark puts his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright! Sorry I asked. You ready to go?” You nod at him, making for the door, but he doesn’t follow. You look over your shoulder to see him staring at the magazine on the table, his lips quirked.

“What?” you demand, narrowing your eyes at him.

“You sure found that page fast,” he comments, tapping the magazine with a finger. “Flip to it a lot?” he asks innocently.

“Shut up, Mark.”

“Uh-huh. So, do you think your boss may be hitting on you because he’s compensating for something? Closeted homosexuality, perhaps?” he asks in a hopeful tone. You can’t help but laugh at this, pushing him out the door towards the cab.

---

The massive main lobby of Dynatox’s building had been done up to the nines for the event, looking even more opulent than usual, and you find yourself taking in the view as you enter on Mark’s arm, despite walking through this very room nearly every day for years now.

Mark helps you out of your coat, ever the gentleman, folding it over his arm to go to the coat check. He leans in to whisper in your ear, making sure to look particularly intimate as he does so. Mark did nothing halfway – much like another handsome man in your life…

“I’ll go check this and then find somewhere to wait in the wings. Go look gorgeous and knock him dead, love!” He kisses your cheek with a smile, disappearing into the growing crowd, and you can’t help but blush, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

You find a large, marble pillar to lean up against with a glass of wine, surveying the crowd and trying to appear natural. Sure enough, it doesn’t take long before you are approached by the man himself.

“Good evening, Y/N. So wonderful to see you,” croons a voice from behind you, and you suppress a shiver, turning to look up at Terry, dressed in a stunning tuxedo. You pointedly keep your eyes on his face.

“Hello, Mr. Silver. Happy to be here,” you reply sweetly, peering up at him over the rim of your wine glass.

“And where is this man I’ve heard so much about?” he asks with obvious fake interest. You resist the urge to smirk. This was going perfectly.

“Oh, just checking my coat,” you say dismissively, waving your hand in the vague direction Mark had left in. “And what about you? Do you have a date for this evening?”

“Oh yes, my woman is here,” he doesn’t miss a beat, his eyes locked with yours. You feel your face heat at his implication.

“Oh, wonderful! Make sure that you introduce me at so–”

Your remark is cut off as an arm wraps around you, a body pressing up against you from behind.

“Boo,” Mark says lowly in your ear, and you giggle, letting him pull you to his side with an arm firmly around your waist. You press your body into his, kissing his cheek, pleased to see Terry looking appropriately flabbergasted at the appearance of your, ahem, lover.

“I’ve been looking all over for you, darling,” Mark purrs, loudly enough to make sure that Terry hears.

“Sorry, honey! I got caught up talking to my boss,” you reply, making sure to emphasize his role. “Mark, this is Terry Silver. Mr. Silver, this is my boyfriend Mark,” you introduce the two, watching them exchange what looks to be a needlessly firm handshake. Fortunately, Mark holds his own. You could kiss him for how well he was playing this, giving Terry a look as though he was sizing him up as competition.

“Lovely to meet you, Mr. Silver,” he grins at the man, making it clear he doesn’t perceive him as a threat. “I hope you don’t mind, but I need to steal my woman away for a dance!”

He takes your empty wine glass and reaches past Terry to place it on a table, pulling you away from him and over to the dance floor without another word to the man. You wrap your arms around his neck, and he rests his forehead on yours as you sway to the music.

“You are a wonderful, devious man,” you praise him quietly, smiling brilliantly and he beams at you, twirling you around before pulling you back into his arms.

“If only my “tall, dark, and handsomeness” could help me win over my own “taller, darker, and handsomer” man,” he replies wistfully, and you see him glancing over your shoulder, presumably at Terry. You grin up at him.

“We’ll make that our next project, darling,” you promise, laughing at your use of the pet name. “Seriously though, thank you. I could kiss you for how well you played that back there.”

Mark sighs dramatically. “For the cause,” he murmurs in a self-sacrificing tone, leaning down to kiss you gently, holding you closer.

Neither of you feel the wave of absolute rage that radiates out of Terry Silver’s rigid form.

--- Terry’s POV ---

The elevator doors open to the deserted top floor of Dynatox Industries, Terry stepping out and stalking to his office at the far end of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

How the fuck had this happened?

He’d had you tailed for days, and not once had that prick shown his fucking face anywhere near you. None of his sources inside the building had ever heard you mention a Mark. Where the fuck had he come from?

The fax machine in the corner starts making noise, and he moves over to it, seeing that the PIs had sent over photographs of this guy picking you up for tonight. Oh, now they find him. Terry flips through the black and white shots of you embracing the man, laughing with him, kissing his cheek.

He’s torn the pictures to shreds before he even thinks about doing it, seeing red.

How long had you been together? Had he fucked you yet? You were meant to be his.

He walks over to the globe in the corner, spinning it to open the bar hidden inside, and quickly pours himself a shot of whiskey, then another. He had to calm down.

He had planned for this, for the event that your lover ended up being real, after all. Get the man alone, find out what made him tick, and send him on his way, leaving you in his far more capable hands. He would have you tonight, of that he was certain.

The alcohol settling his nerves, and restoring his confidence, Terry returns to the party, determined to put his plan in action.

Sticking to the sidelines or pretending to listen to the inane chatter other employees came to bother him with, his eyes are always on the two of you. Every touch between you, every laugh Mark draws out of you, he tallies them all up in his head, determined to make you pay for them at some point. Finally, you part ways from your little paramour, heading for the Ladies’ Room, while your partner makes his way to the bar.

Terry closes in on the man, waiting for him to retrieve his drink before all but backing him into a corner, using every bit of his size to appear effortlessly intimidating. Mark gives him a look up and down, and his lips quirk, but he appears unfazed.

“So where did you and Y/N meet?” Terry asks, as though they’d been in the middle of a conversation this whole time.

“College.”

“Which college was that again?”

“UC Berkeley.” Damn, he was telling the truth about that; he’d looked over your CV again recently, nearly having it memorized at this point. He’d find something, some slip up he can use against the man to get him out of here…

“And how long have you been together?”

“Almost a year now; we got together on Valentine’s Day; horribly sappy, I know,” the man jokes, and a flash of you, naked on a bed covered in rose petals flashes in Terry’s mind. He gnashes his teeth.

“She’s really something,” he continues, having clearly had quite a bit to drink. “Completely insatiable – I’ve been over at her place every night this week!”

Terry is about to reach over and break the man’s neck with his bare hands, when something suddenly clicks in his head.

No man had visited you any night this week; he’d made sure of it.

This man was lying, and he had no reason to lie to Terry unless you had put him up to it. You weren’t dating this man at all, he realizes. You crafty little minx…

Terry steps closer to the other man, suddenly all smiles.

“What will it take for you to admit that this is all a ruse, huh?”

The man valiantly tries to keep up the act for a moment, but eventually breaks eye contact with Terry, laughing quietly.

“What gave us away?”

“Don’t worry about that, just know that I know.”

The man snorts, polishing off his drink. “God, you’re as cocky and proud as Y/N. Don’t know why you both don’t just cut the bullshit already, since you’re apparently soooo smart.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Terry asks the man, impatient. Now that the charade was up, he seemed to have loose lips, the alcohol going right to his head. You would be furious if you found out he had betrayed you… Terry smirks at the thought.

“You both clearly want to fuck each other; I don’t know why you don’t just get to it.” Really now…

“What makes you say that?” Terry asks, crossing his arms and staring the man down.

“Don’t worry about that, just know that I know,” Mark repeats mockingly, parroting Terry’s words back at him.

“Fine,” Terry snaps, sensing he won’t get much more of substance out of the man. “What will it take for you to drop the act and leave her to me?” He’s all business once more, already reaching into his pocket to retrieve his wallet. Mark waves a hand at him dismissively.

“Don’t worry about that; I’ve got my eye on something over at the bar,” he purrs, looking over to the bartender with lust in his eyes. Well, that settled that then.

Now to find a way to get you alone…

Terry approaches one of his favourite gossip-mongers, reaching for his wallet once more.

--- Reader’s POV ---

“Y/N, there you are!” A voice cuts through the crowd as you re-enter the lobby, scanning the room for Mark. You’d caught Terry staring at the pair of you several times throughout the night, but he had finally seemed to leave off. Probably off tending to his bruised ego, you think to yourself, brushing away the slight pang of guilt. You wanted to find Mark and get out of here, having fulfilled your mission for the night.

The woman who had called your name approaches you – Alice, you think her name was. She was a newer employee, and apparently a notorious gossip, so you had avoided her the best you could.

“Yes?” you ask, still craning your neck to look for your date.

“Could you do me the hugest favour? I accidentally put a file on your desk that was meant for Marissa, and she’ll kill me if it isn’t on her desk first thing Monday morning. Would you mind moving it for me?” she begs. You groan internally, but know that not doing this for her could have you branded as the “Office Bitch,” and you really didn’t need any more drama at work. Giving her a fake smile, you reassure her you’ll get right to it, and make for the elevator. The sooner you did this, the sooner you could go home.

The elevator doors open on your floor and you make for your office, noting with brief annoyance that the cleaning staff have closed the blinds despite your repeated requests to leave them open. Finding your keys, you unlock your door, flicking the light on and making your way to your desk with a sigh. You look over everything, but nothing is on it that you hadn’t put there yourself.

Where the hell was this file?

The door to your office closes loudly behind you, and you turn to see Terry Silver leaning against it casually, but his eyes are blazing. Your heart rate takes off immediately, and you gasp, your hand going to your throat.

“Looking for something?” he asks, and you start to feel very claustrophobic, very quickly.

“Yes, Alice came and asked me to look for something in here,” you explain slightly breathlessly, cursing the woman in your head with everything you had. “But I can’t find it, so I think Mark and I will just head home.”

“Is that so?” he questions, an amused tone to his voice that you don’t like.

“Yes, so if you’ll excuse me…” you trail off pointedly.

He doesn’t move away from the door.

“Mark was trying to convince the bartender to go home with him when I left him,” Terry informs you, and your blood feels like it freezes in your veins. He knew you had played him.

You open your mouth to make an excuse, a snarky comment, to say anything, but nothing comes out. Terry is staring at you with a smirk, the air around the two of you thick with tension.

“I think you’ve done enough toying with me, don’t you?” he asks innocently, slowly stepping towards you. “It’s my turn.”

You manage to convince your feet to back away from him, moving to keep your desk between you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie, trying to keep your voice and your body from shaking.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Terry mocks, coming up to the desk and laying his palms on it, leaning across it towards you. Your eyes follow his hands, and looking just past them, you see he’s rock hard. You bite back a whimper of desire.

“Don’t even think about it, Terry Silver.” You’re relatively pleased with the way you growl out the threat, but he doesn’t seem fazed. He straightens up slowly, giving you a wide smile, and without moving his eyes from yours sweeps everything off your desk to the ground with one fluid motion of his arm.

“Get on the desk,” he requests in a calm, quiet voice, as though he was asking you to hand him a piece of mail. A jolt of pleasure moves from the butterflies in your stomach down to your clit. You scowl at him, refusing to give in.

“Bite me, you arrogant, entitled asshole,” you snarl at him, and he smiles at you patronizingly, but his eyes harden.

“Get on the desk or I will throw you on the desk,” he warns, and your knees nearly buckle at the dominant tone in his voice. You force yourself to walk a wide berth around him and your desk, suddenly hating your favourite pair of pumps as you make your way for the door.

“Even if I did want you,” you hiss back at him, though you both know that you do, “I’m not just going to let you treat me like some obedient little puppet that you can just –”

He reaches out and snatches your arm in his large hand, yanking you between him and the desk. Bending you back against it, he tangles a hand in your hair, keeping you at an awkward angle you couldn’t squirm out of and attacking your lips in a punishing kiss.

You let out a growl of indignation against his lips, reaching up to roughly grab his ponytail, trying to pull him off you, kissing him back fiercely all the while. When that fails to get a reaction out of him you try to shove him off you, your hands pushing on his broad shoulders with all your might until he seems to get annoyed, moving his hands out of your hair and away from your waist to snatch up your wrists, bending you fully to lay back against the desk and pinning your hands above your head with ease.

You snarl, and he nips your lower lip, running his tongue along yours in a way that has you moaning, your toes curling. He doesn’t let up until you’re both dizzy from lack of oxygen, pulling you upright into his arms before breaking the kiss. You both pant heavily, tasting each other in the air as you catch your breath.

“Get on the desk, little hellcat,” he murmurs, his eyes dark with lust.

“Go fuck yourself,” you snap back at him, and he gives you a wicked smile.

“Fine, we’ll do this the fun way,” he replies, seemingly unperturbed by the insult. He flips you over and bends you over the desk before you can say or do anything else, grinding against you through your clothes with a hand in your hair, pinning you down again. You fight back a moan as you buck your hips back against him, your eyes rolling back into your head at the feel of him. The way this man set your whole body on fire…

You feel his hand leave your hair and stay put, focusing on using your grip on the edge of the desk to give you leverage to grind against him at a better angle. He lets out a growl of approval, his hands moving down to your thighs, lifting your tight skirt over your hips, kneading your ass in a way that has you crying out for him. You can feel him smirking at your response, the arrogant bastard…

He slides his hands from your ass up the sides of your body, pulling you up against him, kneading your breasts roughly over your dress.

“What was that, hmm?” he asks patronizingly, nibbling your ear. “What was that noise I just heard from you?”

“I hate you,” you growl out, pressing your ass against his hard cock through his pants, desperate for friction, for him… and you’d bite your tongue clean off before you asked for it.

“I can’t believe you ever managed to pull a fast one on me; you’re a terrible liar,” he purrs against your skin, running his lips along your shoulder, his hands tugging your dress down and baring your breasts. You squirm in his clutches as his fingers move to your nipples, switching between feather-light teasing and pinching in a way that has you clutching the edge of your desk, your nails digging into the wood. You would not make another sound.

“Last chance. All you have to do is hop up on your desk like a good girl and I’ll give you exactly what you want, Y/N,” he tells you teasingly. Your hands go to your chest, trying to slap his hands away from you, and he’s got you bent back over your desk in an instant, your now-tender nipples pressed against the wood hard enough to sting.

“Alright, you’ll beg for it, then,” he says, completely unbothered by your resistance, nudging your legs apart with his knee. Your thighs tremble in anticipation.

“Never,” you growl, one cheek pressed against the wood. Your panties are tugged down your legs, and then his fingers are at your entrance, teasing you, coating two of his fingers in your juices before reaching just above and stroking your clit masterfully.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” Terry groans in your ear, and you debate banging your head into the desk to distract yourself from the overwhelming lust that’s clouding your every thought. It would probably just make matters worse at this point.

“Were you this wet when you were thinking up your little plans for tonight, you fucking cocktease?” he continues, pumping two fingers into your pussy as he moves his thumb to your clit, unrelenting. You’re close already, and you’re furious about it, biting your lip until it bleeds in your desperation to keep quiet.

“Didn’t work out the way you thought it would, did it Y/N?” he taunts, curling his fingers inside you. You slam your hand over your mouth to muffle your screams as you come around his fingers. He snatches your wrist, pulling your hand away and catching the tail end of your moans. He observes the drops of crimson on your fingers with a calculated expression, pulling you upright and turning you to face him.

“Stubborn hellcat,” he murmurs fondly, holding your chin in his iron grip so that he can survey the damage you’ve done to your lip. Leaning forward, he sucks your lower lip into your mouth, lapping the blood with his tongue, and a violent shudder goes through you as you see him lick your blood off of his lips.

“Still not going to give in, huh?” he asks, cocking his head to the side as he takes in your murderous expression. “You’re going to at some point tonight, doll. I’m going to have you begging for my cock, and then I’m going to fuck that tight little hole until you can’t walk straight.”

“Terry!” you cry out, half in need and half in shock at his filthy language. He actually shudders, his eyes rolling back in his head briefly.

“Fuck, you sound so good when you’re screaming my name,” he growls, reaching for his belt. “I’m going to hear it a lot tonight.”

“Like hell you… will…” You start out angrily, but as he pulls his cock out, you find your mouth going dry, your train of thought completely evaporating from your mind. The smug grin he levels you with has you feeling both defeated and desperate to have him. You lick your lips, and a noise of approval emanates from somewhere deep in his chest, catching the depraved motion as you stare lustfully at his cock, your dress bunched up around your waist.

“Ask me to fuck you, Y/N,” he commands, and you cling to your last shred of resolve, stubbornly not replying.

“I suppose I could just come all over this pretty dress,” he says as if truly contemplating the idea, pumping his hand up and down his shaft. Why did he have to rile you up all the time?

“It just seems like such a waste when I should be coming inside your tight little cunt, pumping you full of m–”

“FINE!” you shriek, glaring daggers at him, hopping up on your desk. “I want you, Terry Silver! I want you to fuck me hard with that hard cock on my desk like I’m the office slut! Just shut the fuck up and do it already!”

He flashes a wicked grin at you, and between one blink and the next is perfectly positioned between your thighs, his cock lined up at your entrance.

“Was that so hard?” he asks innocently, and you let out a cry of frustration, trying to pull his hips closer to yours.

“Oh, now you’re stalling? Do you even know what you’re doing, you stupi–”

He thrusts into you in one motion, your insult dying in your throat and being replaced by a wanton moan as he sets a brutal pace.

“Damn defiant little tease,” he growls, his hips pumping hard and deep as he stares down at your body, tits bouncing for him from the force of his thrusts. “You thought you could get away from me, huh? After mouthing off at me in your tight little skirts for months, acting like you didn’t want me to take you like you deserve?”

“YEEESSS!” you wail, clinging to the desk for dear life as he pounds into you, giving you the hardest, roughest fucking of your life.

“You’re not gonna make that mistake again, are you, my little hellcat?” he demands, his fingernails digging into your hips as he pins you down against the desk. You would feel this tomorrow – probably for the next week – and you know that that’s his intention.

“No, Terry! Fuck!” you whine out desperately, creaming around his cock as you climax a second time. He shows no signs of slowing down, let alone stopping, merely lifting your legs up, throwing them over his shoulder and taking you even deeper.

“That’s right,” he growls, spanking you hard. “What are you going to do the next time I call you into my office, huh?” He spanks you again after you’re too incoherent to respond. “Tell me!” he commands you, reaching a hand down your body to wrap around your throat. You arch up against him desperately, clawing into his forearm, feeling like you were going to pass out from the overstimulation.

“Fuck, Terry, I don’t know! Bend over your desk, get on my knees, whatever you want, just please don’t stop!” you whine, digging your heels into his back.

“Good girl,” he purrs, leaning down to kiss you fiercely, adjusting his hips to take you at an angle that has his cock hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You come for him again with a cry of his name, your voice hoarse, and this time he comes with you, moaning your name in your ear as he fills you up, his upper body coming down on top of you. You both take a moment to catch your breath before he sits up, pulling you into a sitting position beside him. The contrast between how rough he had just been with the gentleness of the gesture has your body tingling.

Neither of you say anything for a long moment, looking at the ground. You spot streaks of red on one of his forearms.

“I clawed your arm up,” you comment, not able to keep the note of vindictive pleasure from your voice. He lifts his arm, examining the damage.

“So you did,” he replies absently.

“Maybe it’ll teach you not to fuck around with your employees,” you suggest cheekily, unable to resist. He gives you a look that has your knees going weak again, and you briefly worry he’s going to bend you over the desk again for another round.

“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” he replies brightly, slowly coming to stand in front of you. He grabs your chin in one hand. “You look good after I’ve ravaged you.”

“Bite me, Terry.”

“Let me get you home, first.”

---

You use the car-phone in Terry’s limo on the way to his place to leave a voicemail for your assistant, telling her you wouldn’t be in that coming week.

“See? Isn’t cooperating so much better?” he asks condescendingly once you’ve hung up the receiver, patting your hair affectionately. You glower at him, slapping his hand away.

“Do you think you could go even ten minutes without being a pretentious asshole?” you ask, crossing your arms in a huff. “I don’t need to spend any of my time off with you.”

“Oh Y/N,” he croons, tugging you into his lap despite your mild protestations. “I have no intention of letting you be anywhere else.”

---

…I got carried away.

#terry silver #thomas ian griffith #terry silver x reader #smut #the karate kid 3 #sensei targaryen #karate kid #kk3 #inappropriate office relationships

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artzychic27 · 1 year

Note

Do you have anymore headcanons on fairy godbrother Izuru?

Izuku already had many many many different ideas for the whole class’ redesigned costume the moment he laid eyes on them. Since he deemed their costume “damaged” he was able to shape them to many different versions for reference

Momo has armor, no heels, her costume is now has powerful magnet clasps when she needs to create something big, the clasps will snap back into place, and gloves with openings on the palms to make things from there; Ochako’s belt isn’t restricting her movements, no heel, nerve bracelets to prevent her from throwing up; Eijirou has a shirt made from his DNA; Tenya’s armor is much less bulky to provide easier movement; Hagakure’s costume is made from her DNA

He and Katsuki do most of the cooking, and it often involves floating kitchen utensils and ingredients, and explosions every few seconds

His room isn’t as “Hero FanBoy” like canon, it looks more like a seamstress’ dream bedroom complete with a sewing machine, drawers of different fabrics, design books, a mannequin, and posters of heroes who aren’t in it for the fame

He will slap you if you try to hurt a mouse or bird

All Might won’t admit it… But he’s scared of him. Izuku went into a two hour rant on his costume and hair, and then asks to see his teaching license

Some of the upperclassmen will ruin their clothes and then bombard Izuku with requests to make them better. And he obliges.

Then they come back the next day with their clothes ruined again and blame him

Before his friends can jump to his defense, he just says

Izuku: Perhaps you should’ve done your homework on my Quirk. Now each of you need to buy an all new wardrobe. Unless, of course, you’d like Kacchan to blow your faces off.

During the USJ attack, it isn’t Iida who runs to safety. Izuku teleports back to Yuuei and warns the other teachers, teleporting them to the USJ two at a time because teleporting himself and more than two people at once can drain him for about ten minutes

He uses his charmspeak on the nomu and manages to get it to back down for just a few seconds, giving All Might enough time to punt it out of the building

Sports Festival Time

Izuku: *To the Gen-Ed* Oh, you must be mistaken. See, none of us asked to be cornered and nearly murdered by supervillains, and we most certainly never asked to see our teacher nearly die right in front of us. So… Yeah, if you guys want to be in the hero course, I’m happy to give up my spot so you all can see firsthand just how fun it is! I’m sure you’ll get targeted by the next villain and be forced to watch your friends lose all the life in their eyes because you’re apprehended and can’t do a thing to stop it… Now, who wants my spot?

Gen-Ed Kids: … *Run away*

Izuku: Okay! I’ll talk to you all later!

The Sports Festival is same as canon, Endeavor’s a dick, Shouto accuses Izuku being a descendant of the Fairy GodMother, Aizawa defends Katsuki, ANYGAY!

Izuku and Katsuki make it to the final round because Izuku knows how Shinsou’s quirk works. Just to be a little shit, he kisses him and teleports him outside the ring

And for Shouto, he uses his telekinesis to break apart the ice, and when he gets close enough, he heals his scar so while Shouto’s in shock, he teleports him outside the ring

Break Time!

Endeavorass reprimands Shouto on losing to someone with such a “weak quirk,” so just to be a gremlin, Izuku sends some of his mice to bite his ankles and send him running

This gains him Shouto’s respect

So… Katsuki gets first, Kaminari gets second, and Izuku gets third, yay!

Now back to more headcanons

Every morning, birds fly in through his window and help him get dressed for the day. Ochako witnessed this and took a video for the class to see

Ochako: Okay, our mission is clear… We need to protect this boy with our lives.

Class 1-A: Agreed!

Katsuki: I’ve been protecting him since we were born, pink cheeks! I don’t need any help!

Shouto: Then while you play protector, the rest of us will battle for his hand, and you can protect both of us.

Class 1-A: …

Ojiro: … HE WILL BE MINE!

*Cue fight cloud*

So now, Class 1-A is fighting over who will get to date Izuku, and things only get more competitive after he saves Eri and adopts her as his little sister before eventually becoming her unofficial mom

Meanwhile, Izuku and the Big 3 are just having tea parties with Eri in the fancy outfits Izuku made because Eri INSISTED on it

One day, Izuku accidentally uses his quirk on Midnight’s costume and it created a much better alternative with actual armor, zippers on her arms and legs, small but powerful fans in her gloves so she won’t have to whip out her hand fan, and some support for her breasts because that can’t be comfortable

#bnha #Izuku #midoriya izuku #boku no hero academia #different quirk #answered ask #ask me stuff

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so-litudinal · 10 months

Text

from some time ago

I'll be 2* this summer (obvious but not ready to spell it out for myself) and I've been thinking for a while how the only proper achievement I have to my name for my 20s is that I did not kill myself— and then again, I realise how ironic that is considering that it's not something I "achieved" but something I didn't do—and it wasn't because I at some point thought I decided that I wanted to live after all, no. it was fear. and then time passed and now I'm still here, as if by accident, or I got distracted looking out the window or something and then looked around me and realised, "huh... still here it seems." and I've been thinking even more of how I went through most of my teenagers years and early adulthood convinced I wouldn't live past 21 and then 21 came and, well, obviously, I ain't dead lol. and how pathetic that I catch myself going through the same thought process all over again, telling myself, "okay it's fine, the new limit is 31, sounds fair," except now, whether I want to or not, I'm fully conscious that it's just a tactic, a way to trick myself into thinking I don't have to make plans, I don't have to commit to life, at least to some extent, because it's all gonna work itself out when I kill myself, so why should I even set expectations for myself? I can have a bit of sympathy for the me who most likely went about it in a similar way all those years ago, before turning 21, but now... god, I've never had so little respect for myself.

——couple years back, I mentioned it here, how I'd dropped my apple mouse in a cup of tea and it broke, and I didn't take it in for repair or buy a new one, and instead left it in a drawer for like a year and one day I took it out just to test it and it worked just fine. and I thought, "wow if only life worked that way, when you get stuck, you just put yourself in a drawer, get out sometime later and you're fine to go" and like... that's what I did more or less, by secluding myself more and more consistently in my bedroom for the past 5-6 years (?) and it only got worse hahah I'm still stuck here lol... wait... is she seriously out here comparing herself to a tech device? oh yes, yes, she is

#23.8 #t

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dreamscape-popstar · 2 years

Text

The Death and Life of Justice

Chapter 2: Caring Too Much

CW: Suicide mention, suicidal thoughts, self harm mention, starvation mention/eating disorder, bugs (cockroachs)

Story in the read more!

"Ah- sorry my apartment is so messy. I… never had the energy to clean it," Justin sighed as he turned on the light to the small living room.

Jasmine looked around, examining the living space. It was decorated like a traditional Japanese home, which would be typical for the area they both reside in. She meets her eyes with Justin and smiles. Justin blushes and adverts eye contact. They purse their lips in embarrassment. She probably thinks I'm gross…

He clears his throat, "It's not much, but I hope you don't mind it. Make yourself comfortable I guess." Justin walks over to the small table in the middle of the living room, and sits down. One leg sits up while the other one is in butterfly position.

He leans his head back, making contact with the wall behind him. Thoughts race through their mind like a race car track. Jasmine wanders around the apartment, studying every inch of the place. She makes her way to the kitchen. Cockroaches skitter around, fleeing to the bottom area of the fridge and any mouse hole near enough.

The kitchen was very small, being one square inch wide and about 7 feet long. The back wall was lined with a dirty looking fridge, a few cupboards and drawers, and an oven. The oven was the only pristine looking thing, like it had never been used. Jasmine peers inside the fridge, and her inquisitive face grows sad. It was very empty save for some cans and bottles of store bought tea.

Jasmine grabs a can of Arizona Tea and studies it. "Blegh! This is nothing but artificial garbage! No wonder they're like that. Consuming garbage like this cannot be good for a human creature," she says to herself. Time to do what she was meant to do. She secretly summons her bat-winged backpack and pulls out a tea set with some oolong tea.

She fills the ancient oriental styled teapot with some water, and places it on the stove, where she turns up the heat. She opens a bag filled with oolong tea leaves, and shovels them into a fresh and giant tea bag. Setting the big tea bag in the teapot to steep, Jasmine places two empty tea cups on matching plates. Then she sets the teacup and plate combo on a tray. Such meticulous work never really rewarded her with anything, but it made her happy nonetheless.

From her bag, she removes a giant jar of sugarcubes, and places four of them in the steeping tea. Desummoning her bag, Jasmine pushes the jar of sugarcubes further back on the counter. The tea pot whistles loudly, alerting Jasmine that it's done. She turns down the heat, and pours her and Justin a cup of tea.

She sets the teapot down, grabs the tray of tea, and heads towards the living room. Justin, who is still sitting in the same position, is quickly alerted by Jasmine coming into the room. He hastily removes his hand from his pants and sits up. Jasmine, oblivious, sets the tray down, and sits next to Justin.

"I made you some oolong tea! The state of your fridge worries me greatly, you know that artificial garbage can't be good for you, right?" She lectured him. "I didn't throw it out because I respect you enough to let you keep your stuff, but you must try real tea. This oolong tea is a soothing tea. It will take all the stress away."

Justin looks at the fresh cup of tea, and the beautiful tea set in front of him. Is… she serious? Why is she doing this for me anyway…?

He nervously grabs the cup of tea, and takes a sip. A wave of flavour hits him like a truck. It's so good. It's so good?! He hurriedly chugs the rest of it before being stopped by Jasmine.

"No, don't drink all of it!" she grabs his hands. Her sudden yelling scares Justin. He looks at her with widened eyes.

"Oolong tea is a soothing tea. Consuming so much of it in one sitting like that nulls the effects of the soothing. You must drink it patiently."

Justin, embarrassed again, nervously sets the teacup down. Looking down with a reddened face, he croaks out an apology. "I'm sorry, I didn't know," he said hoarsely. Jasmine places a hand on his back.

"I am not upset with you, you know. I just wanted to help you. And, drinking something so fast can lead to intense vomiting," she comforted them.

"So…" Justin paused to think, "how do I drink this?" he inquires. Jasmine excitedly smiles at the question.

"Well… you must drink this in moderation. Take a sip, and let the tea flow through your body, calming every nerve. Let it sit with you. Then, once you feel more relaxed, you can take another sip."

She demonstrates how she drinks tea, and Justin follows shortly after. He sets the teacup down again, and reaches for a nearby remote. Jasmine watches as he turns on a tiny TV hooked up on the wall, and changes the channel to a video site called NewTube.

"Ahh, you don't mind me putting on a video do you?" Jasmine nods her head no, and Justin puts on a random video about video games. He watches the screen blankly, as to drown out any noise his brain may be giving him. Jasmine slides up next to him, and leans in close, resting her head on their shoulder. The two watch videos in silence until Justin falls asleep.

-☆☆☆-

A few hours pass and Justin wakes up. He stretches upwards, quickly noticing Jasmine sleeping on him, her arms wrapped around his torso. Justin blushes bright red and attempts to remove the sleeping Jasmine off of himself, with not much success. Well… maybe this ain't so bad, he thought as he stared down at the peaceful lady using his poor legs as a pillow.

He sits there in silence, the only sound coming from the buzzing kitchen light. Until

~Gurgle gurgle~

Oh, god, not now! Justin worriedly looks down at Jasmine, afraid the noises from his stomach will wake her. And just like he feared, she wakes up from her nap, trying to take note of her surroundings. A loud growling sound fills the empty silence. Fucking god damn it. Why now?

Jasmine sits up, and looks directly at Justin. "Are you hungry?"

"Um… I don't.." he trails off, mumbling the rest of his sentence.

"What?" Jasmine asked again.

"I don't… eat…" Justin says louder, "I'll be fine though. I can last pretty long without food anyways." Jasmine stands up, and walks towards the door.

"W-Wait, where are you going??" he frantically asks, unable to move due to his starving pains.

"I'm getting you food. I cannot stand to see you in pain like this."

Justin, clutching his stomach, tries to fight back. He doubles over in pain, groaning.

"I will be right back, okay!" Jasmine exclaims, and rushes out of the apartment, leaving Justin alone in pain.

Justin lies there alone, fighting the urge to get up. After a moment of trying to do something, he stifles a sob. His quiet sobs are the only sound in the room. His mind furiously races over every thought he could even have. The loudest being why she was trying so hard for him. Just a few hours ago, he was trying to kill himself. Why was this woman so damn persistent?

I'm not worth this! Why is she trying so hard? I should've been dead. Why am I here? I hate this. I hope this starvation kills me. I wish I could just die right here.

Justin's sobbing progressively gets more heavy. At a time like this, he can't even get up to silence the thoughts with a swift skin slice. The pain makes the thoughts go away. He's in pain, but the thoughts aren't going away. It hurts. It hurts so much.

Minutes pass by and the pain puts Justin to sleep. His breath shakes as he sleeps. Small tears stream down his face now and again.

Jasmine quickly but silently rushes inside the apartment. She notices Justin asleep, and continues to be silent. She rushes into the kitchen to make a meal.

The smell of food wakes Justin up, and puts a knot in his stomach. "Gh-!"

He clenches onto his aching body even harder, digging his nails into his skin hard enough that he pierces the skin and starts to bleed.

"Kchh-."

He inhales sharply through his teeth. The food smell is too strong now. But he can't eat. He doesn't deserve that.

Jasmine comes back into the living room with a tray and a plate of ribs and a teapot on it. She sets the tray down, pours herself a cup of tea and sets it down. She reaches over to the pained Justin, and helps him up. His face is stained with tears and his brow furrowed. He falls into Jasmine, and sobs. Grabbing onto her shirt weakly, he cries, "Why are you doing this to me? Why are you caring about me so much? I should have been dead. Why did you take that away from me?"

Jasmine sighs sadly. She moves him over to the table where the food sits. "Please eat."

Justin, shaky, meets his eyes to Jasmines. He's trembling. She nods to the food, letting him know it's okay to eat. Justin visibly swallows and faces the ribs. He quickly grabs one and tears into it, making a mess in the process.

Jasmine sighs in relief. This is what he needed, she smiled to herself. She helps herself to a piece, carefully watching as Justin consumes food at an alarming rate. He speeds through a rib in less than a minute, eating as much as he can. Jasmine, fork in hand, removes the meat off the bone and eats it that way.

The two eat in silence, the only sound being Justin tearing through meat on bone, chewing loudly. Soon enough, Justin slows down. He eats at a more leisurely speed, until he stops altogether. He sets the cleaned bone down, and heaves a heavy sigh. Jasmine, holding a napkin, wipes off Justin's messy face and hands.

He stares blankly at the remaining food before him, collecting his thoughts. He trembles for a moment, until he leaps into Jasmine's arms. Jasmine, surprised, looks down at him. His face is buried in her chest, and his arms tight around her. She returns the hug, rubbing his back. Justin starts to cry again.

"Thank you…" he muffles into her chest. She runs her fingers through his short and spiky brown hair. This was the least she could do for him. She wanted to show as much care for him as possible, and so far, it's been working.

"Anything for you, Justice dear~" she whispered. Justin releases his grip from her, and makes eye contact again. His face is a wet mess, and his brown hair is all over the place. Jasmine wipes the tears from his eyes, and rests her forehead on his.

"I love you Jasmine."

"I love you too, Justice.

#red rings timeline #popstar writing #popstar arts #popstar ocs

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wlwmarvelenthusiast · 3 years

Note

Can u write an au where carol’s cat (goose) keeps sneaking into fem!reader’s apartment and so carol and reader communicate with each other thru notes they put on goose’s collar and they eventually fall in love (((:::::::

Goose's Best Friend

Summary: After a stranger's cat injured in your apartment one night, you decide to attach a short note to its collar to give your apologies. They lead to something you could have never expected.

Pairing: Army Pilot!Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2,792

It was the middle of the night, 2:57a.m., to be exact, when a loud crash shook you from the clutches of sleep. You sat up with a groan, rubbing your eyes to clear your vision enough to look at the clock on your nightstand. You swung your legs off the bed, eyes catching the shattered lamp on the ground. Fighting off the temptation to leave it on the ground for tomorrow, for fear that you might forget about it and slam your bare feet into the shards scattered around the floor, you slid your legs into some sweats and stood up.

You weren’t expecting, when you turned on the light, for something to move. When something darted around the corner you actually let out a high-pitched yelp, flying backwards and hitting your elbow hard off the corner of the nightstand. You felt tingling rush into the tips of your fingers as you tried desperately to comprehend what had just happened. Your breathing had already increased, and your heart was racing inside your chest. You took a hesitant step forward.

Despite being alone in the apartment, you flushed beet red in embarrassment when you found the creature you’d been so terrified of. The orange tabby cat stared up at you with wide eyes, letting out a quiet mew. Immediately your heart softened, its beat slowing down to a normal pace. When the cat made to step toward you, though, you immediately noticed the limp. Your eyebrows furrowed and you knelt down, letting it come to you. You reached out for its front leg, and it let you take it into your hand.

“Oh, sweet baby,” you muttered softly, wiping a bit of blood out of its fur with your thumb. “Come on. I think I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.”

It surely didn’t understand what you said, but it followed you when you stood up. It limped into the bathroom behind you, settling once it reached the tile floor. You reached into the cupboard under the sink and pulled out the red case, propping it up on the countertop and opening it up. Quickly, you located the roll of bandages and the scissors that came with it. You pulled it out and got some wet paper towels. Once more you knelt down on the ground next to the tabby.

A black collar around its neck caught your attention. You reached out for the silver tag that hung from it and spoke aloud. “Goose. Well, Goose, there’s no phone number here for your owner. Guess I’ll have to fix you up and trust you can find your own way home, huh?”

He meowed in response.

You continued to wrap up his leg. When you finally finished, you tucked the first aid kit away again. You clicked your tongue a couple times in an attempt to get him to follow you again. The both of you headed toward the kitchen, where you rummaged through the fridge for the leftover chicken from dinner the night before last. You pulled some out and set it in a small dish on the floor, a sort of apology for your lamp having done such damage to the poor animal’s leg. He helped himself quickly. Meanwhile, you dug through one of your drawers.

You popped the cap off a pen and cut a small strip of paper, struggling to keep your writing small enough to fit.

There was no number on the collar, so I opted for this. Goose found his way into my apartment and had an unfortunate mishap. I patched him up and gave him a treat. I hope that’s okay. He should be alright.

Hope he feels better soon.

You rolled the note around the tabby’s collar and taped it in place. He’d finished his treat by now, so you led him back to the apartment door. When you opened it, he cast one glance back at you, eyes shining as if in gratitude, then scurried down the hall. Just as he turned out of sight, though, someone else moved into your peripheral vision. You could have scoffed when you saw who had wandered into the hallway. She spoke before you could close the door.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Fuck off, Danvers.”

“Captain Danvers,” she hummed, a wide smirk on her face as she twirled her keys around her finger.

“In your dreams,” you scoffed. “And next time you’re using your stripes to get random women in bed, be a little quieter, would you? Some of us around here have self-respect.”

You closed the door before she could respond to that.

You and Carol Danvers had hated each other for as long as you’d lived there. The two of you were like hot and cold, or night and day. She liked loud music and late nights whereas you liked a nice book and an early night. You were quiet and soft-spoken, and Carol was a bully. In fact, she was your bully. You’d never endured such teasing and taunting from anyone else before. It wasn’t her harsh words that got to you, though. In fact, you weren’t entirely sure what it was that got to you. Maybe it was her arrogance, or maybe it was her ignorance for anyone around her. It didn’t matter.

Carol Danvers brought out a side of yourself that you didn’t know existed. You’d only have to hear a single word fall from her lips or see a glimpse of her from the corner of your eye, and instantly any semblance of a good mood would dissipate and fade into annoyance. The hatred you held for her made your blood boil in your veins at the mere sight of her stupid, cocky smirk. You sometimes wished you could just reach out and slap that stupid smirk off her stupid face.

You pushed the blonde from your mind, heading back to bed. Hopefully, the coming day would be one that didn’t involve the blonde captain.

It was three days later that a quiet meow caught your attention. It tore your gaze from the TV, and you glanced toward the source of the sound. The face that was watching you immediately brought a smile to your face. You pat the couch beside you and the tabby jumped up, settling onto the blanket. You ran your hand across his head, watching his eyes close in content. You were about to turn your gaze back to the TV when you noticed the paper around his collar. It wasn’t the same one you put there. You reached out for it and removed it, careful not to rip it, and unrolled it. You flicked on the lamp.

Sorry about him. He wanders around the building. This isn’t the first time he’s gotten into someone’s room. If you fed him, he’ll probably come back to you (which I don’t mind, so long as you don’t mind that he’ll keep coming back). That’s how I know you’ll get this. So, thank you for patching him up. The vet would’ve cost more. You were right. He was just fine.

Rolled up with it was a twenty-dollar bill. You chuckled, immediately standing up off the couch. You pulled a small treat out of the fridge as you passed it, Goose trotting into the kitchen at the sight. You handed it to him and he took it happily, chowing down as you stood up straight again and continuing on your journey toward the notepad on the counter. Once again you ripped a small piece of paper out of it, ripping the cap of the pen off with your teeth and holding it there as you brought the pen down to meet the paper.

It seems so. You were right. He came back. He’s a sweet boy. I truly enjoy his visits. I don’t get many of them, so he’s welcome here whenever he pleases. And I don’t need this. Keep it.

You knelt down on the ground to Goose once again. He sat still for you as you wrapped the bill around his collar, wrapped the note around it, and then taped them both in place. Once more, you led him back to the apartment door, opened it up for him, and let him into the hallway. He rubbed his head against your calf once more before dashing out of sight. You shut the door behind him.

You huffed as you stormed into the lobby of the apartment building. Work had not treated you well that day. All you wanted was to head upstairs, put on your coziest pyjamas, order takeout, cuddle into the couch, and watch a movie or two. It was all you needed to wash away the horrible day and ease the stress that was weighing so heavily on your chest. You only wanted to pick up your mail before you did, but apparently, the universe had other ideas.

“Looking for some mail from your mommy?”

Danvers was the last person you wanted to deal with today. You didn't even bother to grumble a response to your neighbour, who was still in uniform as she stepped up beside you and unlocked her own mailbox. You were going to step away without a single word, but once more, you didn’t get your wish. Carol snickered at something, making you slam your box shut with far more force than necessary.

“What, pray tell, is so fucking funny?” You snapped.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing. Nice keychain.”

The keychain was a souvenir one you’d gotten from your trip to Disney with your family a few years ago. It was a picture of you and your brothers all wearing Mickey Mouse ears and sticking your tongues out at the camera. If anyone else had said the words, you would have blushed and thanked them. When Carol said the words, you shoved the keys in your pocket and shot a glare so harsh that it would have killed if it could have.

“You’re a dick, Danvers.”

“Captain Danvers,” she corrected once more.

“Look, this whole army pilot thing might work on those girls you pick up from god knows where, but I’ve met you,” you sneered. “You use this uniform for detestable things, Danvers. It’s disgusting.”

You stormed away.

When you unlocked your door and stepped into your apartment, however, you found that you wouldn’t need pyjamas or takeout or movies to make you feel better. Your new best friend was sitting on your couch as if he had been waiting for you to arrive home. You dropped your bag at the door and moved to sit with him immediately. After stroking his head absentmindedly for a bit, you noticed the new note.

Take it. Please? Come on, you’re going to make Goose sad if you don’t. You’re going to make me sad if you don’t.

Attached with the note, again, was that same twenty-dollar bill. You rolled your eyes as you moved into the kitchen once more, handing Goose a few of the cat treats you’d bought for him. He accepted them happily as, for the third time, you prepared to write a note for Goose’s mystery owner. You didn’t even bother to sit down, hunching over the counter in a way that your back probably wouldn’t have thanked you for. You scribbled on the paper.

I’m sure Goose won’t mind at all. As for you? Well, I don’t really know you, do I? Just keep the damn money, will you? You know, Goose is going to gain a few pounds if you keep sending him back here.

Sincerely, Goose’s new best friend

After a few pats to the head, you sent Goose off with that. He was back later that day.

Goose’s best friend,

Goose does mind. He wants you to keep it. Please? Besides, if we keep attaching it with scotch tape to a wandering cat, it’s going to get lost. You wouldn’t want that, now, would you? I sure wouldn’t. As for the treats, I’ll make sure to walk him a bit more. Wouldn’t want to lose my new favourite pen pal over a couple extra pounds on the cat.

- Goose’s mom

This time, there were two twenties attached. You chuckled at that. Goose was gobbling down his treat as you wrote.

Goose’s mom,

I think that’d be quite a sight to see, you walking Goose down the street. Guess if I ever see Goose leashed and with some random woman on the street, I’ll know what you look like.

- Goose’s best friend

P.S. Just donate the money. Seriously.

As if it were habit by now, you reattached the bills, added your note, and sent the tabby out the door once again. You headed back to what you’d been doing.

It wasn’t long before the next reply.

Goose’s best friend,

Here, I’ll help you build the image. I’m 23, blonde, and about 5’6”. I’m in the army, so I’d probably still be in uniform after work. Oh, and Goose’s leash is blue, and he has a grey harness for walking.

- Goose’s mom

P.S. I split the $40 between the humane society and the local shelter

You once more had to laugh at the stranger. Of course, you immediately moved to respond. As much as you didn’t want to kick Goose out, you wanted her to get your answer as soon as possible. You grabbed your notepad.

Goose’s mom,

You sound cute.

- Goose’s mom’s best friend

It was a short note this time. You were having fun, though, and you wanted to tease your new friend a little. You attached the note to Goose and let him run off.

Once more, Goose returned with a new reply.

Best friend,

You didn’t give me anything in response. I’m offended.

- Goose’s mom’s best friend’s best friend

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the way she’d signed her newest note. A pang of confidence hit your chest. You scribbled on the note.

Goose’s cute mom,

Let’s go for coffee then. 2B. I’m free when you are.

- Girl with a crush

You regretted sending that last note. You’d never gone more than 12 hours without communicating with the mystery note sender. You’d grown quite fond of the little pieces of communication you’d exchanged with her. It was actually the highlight of your day, on most days. Since sending that last one, though, you’d yet to hear back from her. It’d been four days now. You were quite upset about it, and decided the best way to fix that was some loud music. Maybe it’d piss Danvers off as much as she pissed you off.

When there was a loud knock on the door, you immediately assumed that you’d sure pissed someone off. Of course, they’d complain about you and not her. Everyone loved Carol fucking Danvers. You wished you could whirl the door open and shout at whoever was on the other side, but knew yourself better than that. You’d probably open it up and apologize, then turn the volume down and wallow in your misery to the sound of softer music.

That is, if it were anyone but Danvers.

“What? Just now realizing how damn annoying it is to hear loud music blaring from the apartment directly below yours?” You rolled your eyes. “Fuck off, Danvers.”

You went to slam the door, but she stuck her hand in. It must’ve been a little harsher than you meant to, because she shook her fingers out when she retracted them. You didn’t apologize, because you didn’t even feel bad. She deserved it after giving you two years of hell having to live in the apartment below her. You’d not have been surprised if one day she invited an elephant into her room just so she could make as much noise in your apartment as possible.

As you were about to make another snarky remark, though, you noticed something. That cocky glint that was usually shining in her brown eyes was missing. She wasn’t even meeting your eyes. Her gaze was cast to the door beside your head, locked to the bronze numbers that were screwed into it. You raised a single eyebrow, waving your hand in front of her face to get her attention. She blinked as if coming out of a trace, looking back to you.

“What do you want, Danvers?” You snapped when she wouldn’t speak.

She didn’t answer. She only held out a small piece of paper. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, but took it from her. The handwriting was one you’d seen so many times.

Goose’s best friend,

Coffee it is. But I’m paying. I still owe you.

- A girl who also has a crush, Carol Danvers

#carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #captain marvel #captain marvel x reader #reader insert #marvel #mcu #lesbian #wlw

605 notes · View notes

ladydimitrescuspet · 3 years

Text

Never Again, I Promise

AO3 link! y'all, listen, this one was floating around in my head for weeks and I finally had a breakthrough cause of a random tumblr post I made..... anyway, you know what? I finally forced myself to finish it up I hope y'all enjoy it, tell me your thoughts if you'd like to! and as always, sorry for any grammatical errors!

warning: implied abusive parents, clingy reader, and lactation

-----

"Cassie, hi, do you know where your mother is? I've been looking for her all morning." You asked when you ran into Alcina second oldest daughter, Cassandra.

Cassandra scratched her head. "I think she might be in the library or her study or her office. Honestly, Y/ N, Mother is usually all over the castle before a meeting." Cassandra replied.

You nodded your head. "Okay, I'll just check all those places until I find her. Thanks." You replied before heading to the library.

You didn't expect yourself to want to be near the tall vampire lady when you first arrived at the castle, but she was so kind to you that you took to her like a baby animal imprinting on the first thing it saw. The library was a bust, but you did find Daniela, Alcina's youngest, in there studying her French.

"Hey, Dani, do you know where your Mother is? I asked Cassandra and she said that she might be here, her study, or her office." You asked as you walked up to her.

Daniela shrugged. "Well, there's a meeting coming up so those last two choices are good places to look. Unless, no, I can't tell you about that place. Anyway, yeah, her study or her office, check there. If you still can't find her then come back and we'll look for her together." Daniela replied.

You sighed. "Okay. Thanks." You said before heading out of the library.

You checked her study, knocking on the door first and getting no reply so you opened the door slightly and poked your head inside. Sigh, she wasn't in there either. You crossed your fingers and hoped that she was in her office. As you walked in the direction of her study which was on the other side of the castle you ran into Bela, Alcina's oldest.

"Bela, hi! Do you know if your Mother is in her office?" You asked.

Bela nodded her head. "She is! I just came from there, but if you go in there be cautious. There's-"

You cut her off. "A meeting, I know. I'll try to be respectful of her space." You replied. That was going to be a bit hard to do since you just wanted to invade her space as much as you could. You headed to where Alcina's office was and knocked on the door. "Alci?" You called out, your voice slightly muffled through the thick door.

"Come in, little one." Alcina said and you pushed the door opened. "What can I do for you?" Alcina asked as she continued to do her work.

You walked over to the desk. "I was just- can I sit?" You asked. Alcina nodded her head and you wedged yourself between her and her desk much to her surprise.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" Alcina asked as you got comfortable in her lap.

"I asked if I could sit and you said yes. I can, I can mo-" You started to say but Alcina shook her head. "I'll be good, promise." You said quietly as you let her get back to her work. You quickly grew bored just sitting in her lap and started squirming, moving along to a beat that was playing in your head.

Alcina pressed her hand into your side to keep you still. "Y/N, I cannot concentrate if you're going to do that." Alcina said. "Why don't you go bring a chair over and you can sit next to me?" Alcina suggested.

You pouted a bit at the idea, but reluctantly removed yourself from her lap to bring a chair over. She patted the top of your head when you sat down and you smiled to yourself. You didn't want to seem like you were trying to annoy her, but you were still bored so you tapped her arm.

"Yes, Y/N?" Alcina asked, not taking her eyes off her paper.

"Alci, I'm bored." You replied. "Do you have anything I can do?"

Alcina let out a small sigh before nodding her head. "The girls used to come in here all the time. There are pencils, crayons, paper, and colouring books. You can use whatever you want, but please try to keep as quiet as possible. I still have tons of paperwork to do." Alcina said.

You nodded your head. "Okay, Alci." You replied with a small smile before digging into the drawer that Alcina had pointed to. You sat on the floor by the fire after you'd gotten some coloured pencils and a colouring book. As you coloured, you started humming to yourself, catching Alcina's attention.

"Dear," You snapped your head up to look at her, flushing a bit. You gave her an apologetic smile. "Thank you."

It wasn't long before you stopped colouring to look up at Alcina. "Ali?" You called out. She hummed in reply. "Can I sit in your lap again? The floor hurts." You whined. You heard her sigh a bit before she nodded her head, scooting her chair back a bit so you had enough room to get on her lap. "Much better." You said with a small sigh as you sat on her.

It was an hour later before Alcina patted your side to get your attention. "I'm afraid I have to make a call to Mother Miranda, little one." You nodded your head and got up from her lap.

"Can I stay?" You asked. Alcina shook her head. "Please, Ali? I'll be quiet, promise."

"I don't know, Y/N. This is a very important phone call." Alcina said as she headed to the phone. You nodded your head, understanding her decision. "But if you really promise to be quiet then I suppose." You smiled at her and moved to pick up your stuff when she stopped you. "It'd be best if you stayed right here. Things with Mother Miranda can get quite... tense. And I'd hate for you to get caught in the middle of the rage she incites in me. Do you understand, little one?"

"I understand, Ali." You replied, albeit a bit dejectedly. You moved your things up onto Alcina’s desk as she sat down in front of the phone.

Alcina gave you a small smile before she dialled Mother Miranda’s number. You had tuned out most of their conversation, only ever jumping when Alcina would growl and pull you out of your thoughts. You didn’t let it bother you much, but you still closed your eyes and took deep breaths to calm yourself down. It was going well until Alcina had slammed the phone down onto the receiver and threw it at the wall on the other side of the study.

You quickly got up and headed over to where she was seated, your heart beating fast. “Alcina?” You called out, but she ignored you. You called out her name again, attempting to rest your hand on her shoulder, but froze when hers shot out and grabbed yours.

Alcina slowly turned to look at you, her eyes narrow as she stared at you. Her nostrils flared and her chest heaved heavily. You let out a small whimper and tugged on your arm when her grip tightened. “Alcina, please, you’re hurting me.”

“I thought I specifically told you to stay at the desk.” Alcina growled. “But what can I expect from a clingy little mouse? I tell you to do one thing and you don’t listen. Do you need a punishment to help reinforce the rules, is that what you require? Answer me!” Alcina spat at you.

Your lip trembled as she spoke to you. Did she really think you were clingy? Your face flushed as your anger got a hold of you and you ripped your arm from her iron-like grip. “I hate you! I hate you! You’re just like them!” You didn’t realise you were crying until you had run out of the office and to Alcina’s room.

You hid in the closet, terrified of what she’d do if she found you. She wanted to punish you, she wanted to hurt you. You whimpered at the memories of what your parents did to you if you even so much as breathed in their direction. But your Alcina would never hurt you, would she?

You wrapped your arms around yourself, sobbing into your knees. “Clingy. She thinks I’m clingy.” You whisper to yourself. You sniffled and felt yourself tense at the sound of heels, Alcina’s heels. You burrowed yourself further into her closet, grateful for how big it was.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there.” Alcina rasped out. “Please, I’m sorry. Please, just come out.” You could hear the cracking of her voice. “When you said that you… you hated me, my heart broke, draga mea. I never wish to harm you. And when you compared me to those monsters you had to call parents, I felt sick to my stomach. I don’t wish for you to view me as you view them.”

“Alcina?” You replied softly, not moving from your spot. You heard rustling in the room before the closet door opened. “Alcina?” Your lip trembled again as you felt tears build up in your eyes again.

Alcina crouched down in the closet before crawling over to you. “Iubirea mea, I’m so sorry. Forgive me for the way I snapped at you, please?” Alcina asked as you crawled into her lap, burying your head in her neck.

You sniffled. “You… you called me cli-clingy. Yo-you h-hurt me, Ali.” You whispered into her neck.

“I never should have said that. I was just so frustrated with Mother Miranda and you… I never want you to see me like that again.” Alcina replied, pressing kisses to your forehead. You nodded into her neck, scooting down to lay in the crook of her arm. You were still crying softly as she caressed your cheek. “Shh, shh, little one, I’ve got you.” Alcina said as she brought one of her breasts out of her dress.

You squeezed it in a silent question and Alcina nodded her head. She let out a small sigh when you latched onto the nipple, putting you in a better position to get her milk.

“Never again, my love, I promise. Never again.” Alcina said softly as you drank from her. You felt your eyes start to droop as you suckled at her breast. “Rest now, little one.” Alcina pressed another kiss to your forehead, running her hand down your back as you fell asleep in her arms.

-----

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littlegodzilla · 3 years

Text

Keys NormanReedusxFem!Reader +18

Hi! Today I come with another sequel. I really didn't expect this idea extend so much, but I've been thinking about this for a few days now (Among other things, I have too much free time now, Help!) I think with this is the last part of this story.

I hope you like it and enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

Sorry for my English, it's not my first language!

Keys.

Norman Reedus x femreader

Wanna fuck? Part 3. (part 1 part 2 )

Warnings: M, Smut, +18, fluff, a drama attempt.

Summary: You ran away from Norman and he needs to find you. The things can’t be finished like this.

taglist: @purple-serenity @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @pncnsc

(If you want me to add you to the list, just let me know!)

Everything has gone to shit.

Norman's not entirely sure what's happened, but suddenly you've disappeared. Maybe yes, maybe he has a vague idea of what has caused you to run out of his house and he hasn't been able to track you down for weeks.

It's frustrating and Norman feels like he's at the end of his patience. He knows that you lead a different pace of life to everyone else, he has never minded, he has adapted to it over time, being careful how he handled himself around you and your environment so that nothing was foreign to you, yet it has worn on his patience. It's not fair to either of you, he knows, he shouldn't be thinking about throwing in the towel, he knows where he got himself from almost day one, much more confident after talking to the mother at that dinner, but still, he is frustrated. Norman really thought things were going well, that he had the situation under control, that you both felt comfortable enough together that this could happen, but no, he's failed again and you've walked away.

He knows he can't behave like a hothead showing up at your door every day, making demands of you, much less banging on your door waiting for you to open it, but he tries. Being nice, the first few days he walks around, calls you and asks you to please open the door, but no one answers from inside, which makes Norman think that maybe you have gone to your mother's house to feel more protected, but you are not there either, Norman uses your mother as a last resort to find you.

He doesn't want to worry the woman, but when he shows up at her door, she already knows what has happened. Norman lowers his head, feeling embarrassed by the situation. You are both adults and supposedly responsible people and there you are, playing cat and mouse. Sarah lets him into the house and offers him a coffee, Norman accepts although he doesn't think it will calm his nerves.

They talk quietly, Sarah doesn't ask questions, but he tells her his own side of the story, wanting to defend himself somehow, knowing that the fault is not his. None of them really, but the situation is surreal to anyone who can hear it without knowing the details. Sarah smiles with kindness and infinite affection when Norman finishes explaining himself and watches as the man runs his hands over his face and hair, a clear gesture of desperation, wanting to restrain himself somehow. Sarah gets up from her seat and walks to the furniture that adorns the entrance of the house, opens one of the drawers and returns to the living room leaving some keys on the table where the coffee cups rest. Norman stares at the object, raises his eyebrows, understanding what Sarah is offering him. He bites his lip nervously and his fingers play with the hair on his chin. He looks at the petite woman and she smiles warmly, nodding her head.

"My daughter is at home, she hasn't left the house all these days, but I've talked to her on the phone, I know you've tried to go see her every day and you've respected her stubbornness in not opening up to you, but you have to talk, so if she doesn't want to do it the easy way, other measures will have to be taken..."

"I don't want to scare her any more than I already have..." he admits lowering his gaze, but his fingers brush against the keys your mother has given him.

"You've done nothing wrong, Norman, you've taken the step you wanted to take with her and believed she would understand, and not only that, you've been patient with her reaction. You're good for her, Norman, I know that, I know she sees it too and that's why it scares her...I'm just asking you not to give up." Sarah looks at him pleadingly and Norman sighs nodding his head, smiles softly and grabs the keys in his hand, getting up.

"I'm going to fight for her, but if she doesn't see herself capable of accepting things as they are...I'm not going to force her into anything."

"I understand, Norman. Thank you." The woman smiles and stands up, hugging him.

Norman walks out of your mother's house with the keys in his hand and a decisive idea in his head. He's not going to give up, he's going to go back to your apartment and try to talk some sense into you. If you don't want him to, then he'll turn around and accept that it's all over there. But first you're going to talk to him.

Go back to your building, open the door to the street and go up to your apartment, after that night you asked him to stay there you hadn't been back there, you always met at Norman's house, but he has a good memory and remembers perfectly how to get there. He clenches the keys in his pocket between his fingers and again his teeth scratch the skin of his lower lip thinking about what he can do, what he can say. He sighs and drops the keys, knocks on the door as he has done so many times before and waits. He closes his eyes, leaning his head against the door. He doesn't want to force his way in, he knows that barging into your intimacy, your privacy, isn't going to help fix things.

"Please..." He mumbles against the wood of the door. "I just want to talk to you, then I'll leave if you don't want anything to do with me, but open up..." He asks you. He tenses because he hears a creak, but it's not your door, but another one not far from where he is. He turns his head to discover an old woman peeking out of another house.

"She's not home, pretty boy." He says to her in a shaky, muffled voice. "She went out a few minutes ago, if you wait, she won't be back long." She tells him with a wrinkled smile. Norman mimics her gesture by nodding his head.

"Thank you, ma'am. I'm sorry for the show." He hones in, but she shakes her head, downplaying the matter.

"That's all right, young man. You like her very much, don't you? She's a very special girl."

"Yes, yes she is..." He smiles because it's true. He steps away from your door and walks over to the lady who smiles a little wider, opening the door to her house. "But I don't think I'm doing things right with her."

"Don't talk nonsense, I know she likes you too."

"Has she been told?" Norman looks at her in surprise and the woman laughs low.

"No, but I see these things and I’m old enough to understand what she's thinking about." She tells him in a confidential tone and winks at him. "Don't let her get away." She squeezes his arm affectionately and closes the door again.

Norman stands there for a moment staring at the closed door, weighing what the old woman has told him. He tenses because he hears footsteps on the stairs and turns in time to see your head appear around the corner of the hallway.

You are unaware of his presence, you are looking inside your bag at the things you have gone to buy at the supermarket down the street. Normally you do all your shopping online, but you needed food and maybe to get some air, so since you had work ahead of you, you allowed yourself to go out and shop. You don't really like it because you always end up buying things you don't want because what you're looking for, specifically, they don't have it, but this time you're satisfied with your purchases. You're near the door when feet appear in your field of vision. You stop and raise your head. Your face pales as you discover Norman in front of you. For a second you want to turn and run, but Norman grabs your wrist. Your gaze shoots from his face to your hand and back to him. Norman releases you by holding up both hands, in an attempt to get you to stay calm. You babble, fiddle nervously with the keys and the bag in your hands. He still doesn't say or do anything. Following an impulse you can't control you open the door to your house and leave it unlocked. Norman hesitates for a moment, but then comes in after you, closing the door behind him, following you into the kitchen where you leave your shopping bag. He continues without a word, watching your movements, watching as you gather the groceries in your fridge and various drawers, pick up some clean dishes and make coffee. Norman sighs biting his lip. You startle when you hear him speak.

"Aren't you even going to look at me?"

"I'm making coffee..." You reply. "Do you want some?"

"Yeah, sure, do you want me to help you?"

"No, it's just a coffee..."

"Yeah, sorry..." The nervousness is evident in him, he's folded his arms and repeatedly bites his lower lip, tugging at his beard hair with his teeth. "Do you think you could put that down and talk to me?"

"Coffee's almost done..." You mutter turning back toward the coffee pot. Norman lets the air out of his mouth very slowly and nods.

"Okay, fine, we'll do it your way..." He agrees without turning away from the kitchen door, not taking his eyes off everything you do.

You move through the kitchen, take two cups and prepare coffee for both of you, black with two spoons of sugar for him and for you a little milk and two spoons of sugar. You hand him his cup with a nod of thanks and move into the living room where you have your entire work area set up. Several computers plugged in, your laptop on the side table next to the couch. You point to it and both of you sit there. The silence is still thick and uncomfortable. Your heart doesn't stop beating violently and violently, your mind doesn't stop working at a mile a minute. There are too many variants open and again your anxiety is winning over your sanity. You have to get back to work, you're on your workday, you can't neglect your job. You have to talk to Norman, clear things up or else ask him to leave, to leave you alone. You also need to talk to your mother, set some rules as it is clear that she is taking too many liberties. Especially when Norman leaves the keys to your own apartment on the table in front of you. You raise your head looking at him in surprise.

"Your mother gave them to me, I thought I should use them if... you kept ignoring me, but I didn't want to force things, I didn't want to pressure you."

"And coming to see me at my house and knocking on the door everyday when I'm working?"

"I'm sorry, I know I was an idiot doing that, but God, I didn't know what to do." He ran his hands over his face again, trying not to get too worked up. "You just disappeared."

"I didn't... you gave me..." You mutter, lowering your gaze again.

"It was just some fucking keys..." You snort unable to control the frustration in your voice. "They don't hurt you, you know, you could've..." He licks his lips searching for the words. "I don't know, you just could have not taken them and that's it."

"It's... It's another change, Norman I didn't..." You muffle because you know what he's going to answer you, you can see him clench his fists slightly, controlling himself. "A set of keys means a lot of things... I..."

"Meant nothing more than what they are, keys." He cuts off your stuttering and hesitation. "We always go to my house, okay?" he shrugs wanting you to understand what he means. "We've been doing this for two years, and...I don't know, I thought maybe some keys wouldn't hurt."

"It implies a commitment, Norman..."

"It doesn't imply anything, just that you can come to my house whenever you want... I told you, I'm going to be with you as much as you need me, but you can't block me every time I want to do something else for you..."

"You already do for me..."

"I don't want to follow a fucking plan." He cuts you off again and you bite your lips holding back your thoughts. "I don't want us to compulsorily see each other on Fridays, yes, it's not once a month anymore, yes, now it's every Friday of the month, I know the changes are slow going with you, I know you have a hard time accepting them, that you don't like them, but I thought we talked about this."

"You are not a change..." You mumble understanding what he means.

"Exactly...It’s been..." He bites his lip and moves a little closer to you, squeezing your hands between his. You startle and look up at him. "It's been two years since we started this...I don't want to follow a fucking calendar." He says and knows he's letting his anger get the better of him and he takes a deep breath. "I want to be able to meet you on Monday, Saturday, Friday, I don't care what fucking day. I want to be able to call you, know if you want to see me and leave the house or not, fuck like animals here or at my place, come home from work one day and see you waiting for me on my couch, not because it's the fucking day we're supposed to see each other, but because you really want to see me. That you've missed me at some point." He's sincere and squeezes your hands a little between his. You stare, understanding what he means, thinking over all his arguments, looking for a logical answer that will make you also understand if you want the same or she's just crazy. Norman sees that you are not able to answer and speaks again. "Is it the case that when you stay at my house on the weekend you feel bad about being there? Tell me, do you feel uncomfortable when you stay with me after we've seen each other on Friday?"

You hesitate for a moment on what to answer, there are so many things swirling around in your brain at the same time. You understand what he's telling you, what he's asking, but he also knows that you can't give him a yes or no answer, your answers are never simple, you never leave your decisions to a few simple monosyllables. You look down at your joined hands and feel his thumbs caress your skin lovingly.

"Yes..." You whisper, but he doesn't move, he waits, he knows there's something else caught in your throat. "I was uncomfortable, at first and yes, I wanted to leave because it wasn't what was agreed, I didn't want to... but that gradually changed, like everything about you... you always manage to trap me, you always manage to make my mind cloud and with you I'm unable to think about anything else but you... See us outside of... our dates? Yes, I thought about it once, I even came over to your place one night, but...

"What?" he looks at you in disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me... why didn't you knock on the door?"

"Because I showed up there too late, it wasn't the right time... maybe I could have bothered you or..."

"Oh God..." He can't help but chuckle under his breath and cover his face with both hands, trying to process what you just said. "Really, and I give you my keys and everything goes to shit?" He still can't believe it. He knows he shouldn't be using that asshole tone, but he's just feeling overcome. "You came all the way to my house yourself outside of our... dates. Don't you think if you had my keys, you would have avoided standing at my front door and going home? You could have come in whenever you felt like it and we would have had a great night, don't you think?" He insists and once again, the pieces seem to fit together much better than they do now Norman is the one explaining the situation to you.

"Yes... I suppose you're right, as usual..."

"No, don't say that, I don't want you to feel obligated to believe what I tell you." He sighs and again his hands fall on yours, he squeezes them and brings them over his mouth, kissing them lovingly.

"No, but it's true. I've gone back to acting without thinking about... anything." An amused smile forms on your mouth and Norman looks at you with a frown. "It's ironic, because my brain can't stop thinking... even now..."

"What can I do to make you stop thinking? What do you need me to do? Tell me." He looks at you intently, one of his hands releases yours and strokes your cheek affectionately.

You stare at him for a moment, move closer to him and kiss him slowly, your lips caressing his. Norman gasps, holding the back of your neck, kissing you back, making you sigh against his mouth.

Norman didn't come to see you with that intention, he didn't really have it in mind at all. But you find yourself in front of him, completely naked, devouring him with your eyes and he is not made of stone. Well, he is now, but for a totally different reason. His bare chest and his jeans concealing a more than obvious erection. He settles down on the couch, spreading his legs, inviting you to come to him. His own fingers caress his lips, watching every move you make, his breathing is heavy, but he tries to be as calm as possible, letting you do what you need to do with him. You walk slowly up to him, your leg brushing against his as you slowly, slowly climb onto his lap, resting your hands on the back of the couch he's sitting on. Norman's breathing becomes heavier as you consciously brush your breasts against his face as you sit up. Your hard nipples brush against his lips and Norman opens his mouth to catch your tit between his lips. You gasp and moan at the feel of his lips and tongue against your skin.

His hands caress your thighs slowly, you sit fully on his cock, hard and hidden inside his pants, you move your hips against him and Norman releases your breast from his mouth, panting against your wet skin.

"This is... this is all we are?" you gasp feeling your mind finally stop thinking.

"No... you know it's not..." Norman caresses one of your cheeks, lifting his head to kiss you slowly, stroking your hair, letting it fall to your shoulders. "But if it helps you keep your mind blank..." he smiles kissing your jaw, moving down your neck slowly. You gasp letting yourself do it, closing your eyes. "I told you I'd be with you whenever you needed me... and that's what I'm doing." He whispers against your skin, catching one of your breasts in his mouth again, enjoying it. You sigh at the sensation and move your hips against his body, rubbing against his hard bulge still inside his pants.

Your hands come loose from the fabric of the couch to caress his head, his shoulders and down to the edge of his pants, brushing your fingertips against his belt. Norman pulls away from you a little again, letting you follow your path, you settle over his thighs unbuckling his belt, unzipping his pants. You slide out and between his legs holding the edge of his pants and underwear, slowly pulling them down, Norman lifts his hips to help you and you leave him totally naked in front of you. Your eyes are riveted on him, who doesn't look away either, with a crooked smile, slowly stroking himself, hardening his cock all the way. You lick and bite your lower lip crawling up to him, licking the tip of his cock as he grips his own erection from the base, grunting at the wet touch of your tongue.

You like hearing him, you like feeling him grunt and twitch with need and some desperation as you take your own time sucking and licking the tip of his cock, producing little wet sounds that bounce in the silence of the room. Your hand replaces his hand at the base of his cock and as your mouth continues to give his tip a warm wet treat, your hand strokes and moves up and down his length. You hear a hoarse moan escape his mouth, your chest filling with a certain pride in yourself. You look up and your body shudders as your gaze connects with Norman's, he watches you intently, breathing hard, biting his lip, enjoying what you are doing with him. Your fingers close around his base and you open your mouth a little wider inserting every inch you are able by closing your lips around it, starting to move your head in a gentle up and down motion, lubricating his entire cock with your saliva.

"Oh fuck!" Norman grunts and his hand closes over your head.

For a second you stop, but again your lips close around his cock, still sucking up and down, tightening your grip on his base a little. It's another thing that has changed in your relationship. The first few times you shared your intimacy, the contact you allowed from Norman to you was minimal, only when he takes his time to go all over you. When you were the one enjoying him, the occasions were very specific, but now you don't care. You like to feel his hand closing in your hair, his fingers twitching against your skin at the pleasure, his hips moving against your mouth wanting to go deeper. You've tried, but your mouth has never fully cooperated, yet you know you're capable of making him enjoy it, of taking him almost to the limit, of feeling his thighs tremble and his cock swell inside your mouth, only to stop and leave him there, pleading and completely needy. You've discovered that you like the animal side that takes over him when you play with him like that.

“I love that fucking mouth of you…” He grunts and his fingers grip harder your hair. “Feels so fucking good around my cock…”

Your body shudders when you hear him talk. That's another thing that has changed between your relationships. At first Norman didn't talk much, if at all, while you were fucking. Maybe a little at first or when he felt your mind going back to thinking too much, but it wasn't usual. Then, little by little, his tongue became bolder, in every possible way. At first it felt strange and even uncomfortable, you felt that something was cutting the moment short, forcing your mind to start up again, but then you discovered that it wasn't your brain that started to work at speed, but your body, which reacted to every word the man whispered, with goosebumps and your pussy totally wet.

“You like that too, right? All my cock on your mouth, taking me to the edge… Feeling my cum on your tongue…” He grunts again and you moan getting wetter just thinking about it. “Yeah, I know, girl, but not now. I wanna play with you too… Stand up.” He says and you look at him sucking his cock once again before doing with he wants.

You stand up slowly, feeling the insides of your thighs completely wet, Norman looks at you biting his lip. He lies down on the couch and gestures for you to come closer again. Once upon a time you would have demanded that you go straight to the bedroom, that the couch was no place for such things, but now you feel the need hitting you so hard, you can't even protest.

You approach ready to straddle him and ride him the way you both like it best, however, Norman holds your wrist carefully and guides you. A gasp of surprise catches in your throat as he pulls you down and you end up on top of him your thighs on either side of his head. He pushes you down and his tongue brushes your folds from his position beneath you. You moan and shudder. You clutch at the couch and your other hand closes on his hair.

You've never sat on a man's face before and your whole body trembles at the sensation. You gasp as you look down to find Norman staring up at you. His hands caress your legs, your thighs, his fingers spread your folds further apart and his tongue delves deep into your tight interior. You cry out at the sensation and your legs slam together. You exhale in fear and move over him. Norman stops and looks at you with concern.

“Are you okay?”

“N… No… I never… I never did it before…” You mumble embarrassed, fearing that in some movement you couldn't control, you might hurt him. He smiles understanding what might be going through your mind and turns his head slightly to kiss your thigh.

“It’s okay, let’s go to the bed… You will not to escape from me anyway.” He smiles and you do the same getting up of him.

Norman has you back on the mattress. Your legs raised, the inside of your knees resting on his shoulders, he has you with your hips slightly raised, holding your thighs and his mouth is once again buried in your pussy. He licks, bites and sucks your folds, his lips tighten around your clit making you moan, arch against him and fuck you against his tongue as he makes his way inside your wet inside. His gaze is once again fixed on you, not for a second neglecting what he is doing. Your mind, as well as your body, are a complete mess, as he always manages, you can't think, you can't be coherent with any of your actions feeling his tongue take you to the limit. He lets go of one of your legs and inserts his fingers spreading your walls apart, moving them in and out, curving them inside you touching that special spot that manages to make you see stars. You moan loudly and arch once more, pull his hair hard and cum against his fingers and mouth, feeling the spasms of pleasure shaking your whole body uncontrollably. Norman licks, sucks and moves his fingers, slower and slower, until he pulls them out. His gaze is on you again, he sits up and licks the cum on his fingers, you gasp at what you see and bite your lip. Your gaze is clouded with desire, your chest rises and falls erratically, your body still twitching in the little scraps of pleasure that envelop you. Norman stretches over your body, now your legs encircling his waist, he kisses you slowly, with infinite affection, his tongue brushes your lips and enters your mouth lazily, he breaks away again to look at you and kisses your chin and neck.

You caress and scratch his back enjoying the kisses that run down your neck. You bite your lip and push his waist a little. He puts up no resistance. He separates from you and lies down on the mattress. You sit up, your hand caresses his hard erection and Norman hisses holding your wrist.

“Easy, girl… I’m so fucking hard, I could cum too fast.” He says in a husky voice and you nod.

You let go of his cock but not without squeezing once more on his tip, Norman moans and uses all his self-control not to cum on it. You straddle him, rubbing your folds against his erection, lubricating it with your own flow. He holds you by the waist and helping you position yourself on top of him, you sit on his cock, feeling it work its way inside you without resistance. You moan once more, he grunts digging his fingers into your skin and holds you still, again controlling himself. You watch him out of the corner of your eye guessing when you can start moving again, your hands rest on his thighs and you begin to move slowly over him, bouncing slightly, gasping as his own hips rise, meeting you on the way, going deeper, throwing you back to the edge of your own pleasure. Norman joins in, wrapping his arms around you, the two of you sitting on the mattress. His hands move down from your waist to your ass, your knees dig into the mattress to gain momentum, your hands clinging tightly to his shoulders starting to move quickly over him. Norman helps you propel yourself by grabbing your ass, digging his fingers into your skin and even allowing himself to spank you. You moan at the sensation and clench tightly around his cock.

It's triggering for him, as he feels his cock strangling around your walls he can't hold back any longer, he moans hoarsely against your neck, his fingers pull at your skin and push you down, getting wedged deep inside you as he cums intensely. The heat his cock gives off and his cum inside you, makes your body shudder and you reach your own orgasm, pressing back against his cock feeling him pulsing inside you.

Norman opens his eyes the next morning. It takes him a moment to discover that he is still in your bed, but you aren’t with him. There is a small twinge in his chest of fear, imagining that you might have run away again or waiting for him to ask him to leave. He remains silent and hears a steady murmur coming from your living room. You're talking to someone and from the mechanical tone of your voice, Norman deduces it's something about work. He stretches out under the covers and looks around for something to wear, but remembers that all his clothes were left lying on your living room floor, he's never left anything there either, so if he wants to go out he has to do it naked. Not that he minds, but he's convinced it won't be a good show if you're in a business meeting. He finally makes up his mind by wrapping your sheets around his waist like in the typical movies, feeling a little ridiculous, but at least this way he'll placate a little embarrassment if your coworkers see him through the camera. He trips a couple of times on the fabric of the sheets but manages to get out of your room unscathed. He peeks through the living room door and smiles.

As I thought you are busy talking to your co-workers. You seem to be explaining to him your latest interventions, what you've been up to over the past few days, the results you've been getting, but that's not what really catches his attention. Your hair is messy and you look a little sleepy, maybe you've been up too long talking about it, over and over again, but what he likes is to see his shirt wrapped around your body. You got up in a hurry and it was the first thing you grabbed before starting the meeting. The smell of Norman on the fabric relaxed you and allowed you to focus on what you had to say without overthinking things. Something that surprised your colleagues. You continue talking to them, your fingers stroking the collar of your shirt, feeling the softness of the fabric against your skin. You spot Norman in the doorway, but he doesn't move, just nods at you. You smile and point to his clothes, folded and gathered on the table you use for family meals. He winks at you in appreciation and walks over, avoiding being seen by your coworkers and puts on his boxers and pants, folding the sheet to put it in the washing machine if you want. You look back at the computer screen, listen to the proposals of your coworkers and your boss and say goodbye to them, turning off the laptop. You get up from the couch and stand there quietly, watching him. Norman smiles and points to the kitchen, separated from the living room by a breakfast bar. You haven't spent much time in your house, but you've had breakfast there before.

"Would you like me to make some breakfast?" he offers and you nod.

"Thanks." You whisper and Norman walks over to you giving you a soft kiss.

"Good morning..."

"Good morning..." You reply back feeling your cheeks flush. It's like you're getting to know each other all over again.

Norman walks back to your kitchen, the good thing about you being a methodical and mechanical person for some things makes it easy for him to find things around him. He's a bit of a stickler for that too, but not to your extreme. You sit on the stool in front of the bar watching him move from side to side. He looks so natural that again your heart races. You clench your hands tightly, rubbing them together nervously. Norman catches your eye after placing the coffee pot on the stove and there is a mute question in his gaze. You know you've left a talk hanging, that last night you had to have a serious talk about what was going to happen from now on. Norman has nothing more to say for now, you are aware of that, now it's your turn to be clear with him. You sigh and tangle your fingers in your own hair before intertwining your hands again.

"I think I'm afraid to fall in love with you..." You whisper at last, not daring to look at him, but you know Norman doesn't take his eyes off you. "I think... I was afraid of falling in love with you..." You clarify because you're sure it's too late to stop that from happening. "You know things work differently for me..." You whisper again and Norman nods his head.

"I know, but it's been two years..."

"I know, but I'm not like you..." You shake your head because you don't want to refer specifically to him. "Like everyone else... I need a plan, a routine, I need stability so that... so that I don't collapse..."

"I understand..."

"No, actually you don't." You look at him and sigh covering your face with your hands. "I need everything to have a specific place and control around me so I can keep moving. Since I've known you all that has failed, everything has been changing, little by little around me; changing things, bringing in new things and forgetting routines I had since I was almost a child... Everything has been transforming around me and you've seen what happens when that happens."

"It's never been a problem, I mean... We've known how to handle it..." He insists, he thinks your relationship is on a good footing, or at least he thought it was.

"And it's not, at least not now, now that I've adjusted to... a lot of our relationship. I like hanging out with you, I like being with you, staying at your house even if it's not part of the program, I'd like to see you outside of the program we have set up, but I'm afraid that one day... it'll all be over." You lower your gaze again and bite your lip nervously. "I can't go back, I can't... forget about it and start from scratch like you or someone else would. You leave a person because you stop liking them, or because things become complicated, you are maybe a few days or a few hours bad and the next day you find another person who seems to fill you as well or better than the previous one... I can't do that. My brain won't let me, I'd need to think it all over again, rebuild my wreckage, almost everything would go back to zero and... and I'd just collapse." You confess and your voice sounds choked, tears have taken over your eyes without being able to control it. Norman moves closer towards you and his hand squeezes yours. Your whole body shakes so hard he's afraid you'll break. "That's why every time you wanted to be with me, to bond with me in a more personal and intimate way I..."

"You think you're the only one in love?" He tells you softly, you lift your head like a spring and see that his cheeks are aflame. "Do you really think if I didn't care about you I'd be here?" He asks you again, but doesn't wait for you to answer. "You are important to me. Very much. I've had times when yes, I've wanted to throw in the towel, Has it been frustrating? Yes. Have I felt overdone? A lot, but it's not your fault, or mine. It just is what it is. And I'm not going to run away. And if you need me to come after you when you run away again because you really don't know what you're doing. I will. I told you, I'm going to be with you whenever you need me. That the first night was weird? It was, but I think it was for both of us. That the second night was personal curiosity? Yes, I confess that too, but then everything came together. I don't know whether to call it love, even for me the word is perhaps too strong, but I'm not going anywhere, nor am I going to get bored of you. That's not going to happen.

"You're just saying that now..."

"I've been telling you that for two years, actually." He jokes and you look up at him again, his warm, amused smile making you smile too. You squeeze his hand against yours and then stand up.

Norman takes advantage of you stepping away to take the coffee off the stove and put two cups on. When you return to the table, you leave the keys your mother had given Norman the day before on the table and look at him hesitantly.

"You can... You can keep them... I'd really like you to come and see me... Even if I'm working or it's not... Friday..." You say this last in a breathy whisper and Norman's smile grows much wider.

"Thanks, I'd love to... Mine I think you still have them." He jokes raising an eyebrow. "You ran out of my house with them in your hand."

"Y... Yes, I'm sorry..."

"There's nothing to be sorry about." He smiles once more and hides the keys in his pants pocket, just in case you drastically change your mind again at some point.

Your back protests once again as you shift in your chair and groan low. You've clearly stretched your working hours beyond what was rightfully yours, again. You peel your eyes away from the computer screen, rubbing them with your hands, feeling them dry from overexertion. You look around, still getting used to the idea that this is your new workplace. It's been a few years since you have reduced your work area to that room in your new house. You were used to working anywhere in your apartment, but that has been changing little by little, like everything else. But it's good, you know, there's nothing to worry about. Besides you imposed it on yourself for obvious reasons.

You smile weakly drinking from your coffee cup when you hear the door of the house open and close, filling the silence with laughter and nervous, anxious voices.

So much had changed.

Your gaze falls on the ring that decorates your ring finger and you rise from your chair, ending your workday. You grimace painfully and bring your hand to your bulging abdomen, caressing it gently, feeling the little one stir inside. The door to your office opens and two pairs of blue eyes stare at you, asking permission in a mute way, if they can come in. You smile and walk towards them.

"Are you done yet?" Norman asks you, opening the door all the way. The little boy with him runs up to you and hugs your legs.

"Mom, dad says we can go to the park if you're done working! Can we?" Norman's little reflection pins his innocent gaze on you and you laugh nodding your head.

"Sure we can, I think I've been sitting here too long." You smile and Norman comes up to you kissing you lovingly, his hand caresses your belly and his eyes sparkle with restrained emotion. Your cheeks redden as you look away, you still can't get used to him looking at you that way.

"How are you feeling, is she behaving?"

"Yes, you know it's been a very quiet pregnancy."

"Good, then I'll get some things ready and we'll go to the park."

Now you remember with embarrassment what your first pregnancy was like. You were so surprised by the news that you repeated the test a couple of times and then went to the hospital for a third. But there it was, it was tiny, barely a couple of weeks gestation. A "chickpea" as the doctor who attended you had called it, and for the first time in your life you felt like hitting someone. You didn't have a chickpea in your belly, you had a baby. Yours and Norman's. You had made a little person and you needed Norman with you to take it in.

You burst into the man's work to the cry of "I'm pregnant!" you literally shouted in the middle of the photography studio earning you a look of surprise and amusement from everyone there. Norman was thankful that day that he had his camera strapped around his neck or he's sure it would have fallen out of his hands.

After that you both needed a moment to take it in. Of course it wasn't an easy thing to hide until you were sure the pregnancy was going well, your scream in the studio had caused all your mutual acquaintances to spread the news like wildfire and a few hours later you had your mother in your house. For that was another change that had happened to you before the baby. You and Norman had married and moved into a nice house where you could both start from scratch. It was a complicated process for you too, but it was less difficult than you had expected from the beginning.

The dizziness, the nausea, the avoidance of certain foods and suddenly wanting to eat other things you had never tried before made the eight and a half months of your pregnancy a real roller coaster for you and Norman, you were both new to it all and every gesture, discomfort or doubt that assailed you became a big dilemma that kept you both on edge. At least at the beginning. From the fifth month onwards you both seemed more sure of what you were doing and Norman loved touching you, loved having his hands always on your belly, feeling it grow, feeling the baby move. He would lie close to your belly and whisper to it as he caressed your skin, sometimes, to your surprise, the little one would react to Norman's presence by moving into his touch or his warm breath would collide, making the man smile with immense excitement.

You never expected Norman to be a man who adored children.

"How did it go at the studio? I hope he's been good..." You say looking sideways at your son.

The little boy was born with a personality very similar to yours. Some things that happen around him are hard for him to assimilate, but it's not as drastic as in your case, however when he feels anxiety taking over he shows it by getting too excited. Norman found that painting and photography calmed the little boy. Despite his young age, he was able to capture very interesting things in the pictures his father let him paint. While Norman took care of the photography, developing and mounting, the boy stayed close by, painting on small canvases or in sketchbooks. Crises had dwindled to almost none over the course of the year, but one could never let one's guard down for good.

"We brought a gift with us. We left it in the living room." He tells you as his only response, biting his lip in amusement.

"What did you guys do this time?" You look at him fearfully and the three of you walk out of your office.

Your eyes widen when you discover that your son is holding a small black kitten in his hands, clutching onto his shirt like a life preserver. You look at Norman and his smile grows much wider. He's enjoying the situation, he knows you like animals and that you're not going to be able to say no to him staying at home.

"How did you...?" you try to ask and he laughs with a shrug.

"Our little adventurer found him and held on to our son so tightly that I couldn't say no to him." You look back at the boy petting and playing with the cat who keeps purring and rubbing against his face, making him laugh. "I think it will be good for him."

You look sideways at Norman and then at the little blond boy who has put the little kitten down and both of them explore the room making little jumps and running scared when some extraneous noise over jumped the little feline. You smile and stroke your belly feeling your second baby move. Norman catches your gesture and comes over and hugs you from behind. He kisses your cheek, rests his chin on your shoulder and his hands caress your sides, the baby moves again, looking for the source of warmth and you smile.

"You know what I love most about your pregnancies?" he whispers in your ear, as if it's a secret. "How big your breasts get..." He confesses and after a few seconds you both laugh loudly. You shake your head and turn around hugging him.

"You're such an idiot..."

The End...

Thanks for reading!

I hope you liked it!

See you in the next story!

#normanreedus #norman reedus #normanreedusxreader #normanreedusxfemreader #smut #oneshot #wanna fuck #drama #final part #twd fanfiction

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st0rmyskies · 2 years

Note

Warrtime with the one liner “Can you please just … give it a rest? For today? I’m not … I’m not in the mood,” please!

I am going to project on Time so hard because I had such a shit workday today. ~850 words, rated M for one mention of a toy.

“Well well! It’s about time you got home.”

Time’s fingers tightened around the doorknob. Warriors was sprawled on his stomach across Time’s bed, his feet on the pillows and his nose in his phone, the duvet messily rumpled beneath him. Time stifled a sigh, stepping into the bedroom and shutting the door. “I see you’ve made yourself at home in my absence.”

“You kept me waiting so long I nearly fell asleep.” Wars shifted into a sitting position, folding his legs beneath himself. “With all the overtime you work, I’m surprised you bother to charge us rent money at all.”

“Ah yes, because I should be the one to pay for the privilege of sharing my home with all of you.”

Time could feel Warriors’s eyes on him as he moved about the room, shedding his cufflinks and jacket and sitting to untie his shoes. War’s smirk warned Time that he was in for their usual game of cat and mouse. Time was still so high-strung from his day, though, that he could already feel his ire rising.

“Well if you’re going to take your sweet-natured time over there, I guess I should get started without you.”

Time’s shoulders tightened as Warriors’s shirt landed over his face. He tugged it off and tossed it to the floor, glaring at Warriors out of the corner of his eye. Warriors was characteristically nonplussed, already digging through Time’s bedside drawer. “Hmm, what am I in the mood for tonight…”

Time kicked off his shoes, sighing low in his chest as he sat back in his armchair. It was the first chance he’d had to sit down all day. He propped his elbow on the arm of the chair and rubbed at his forehead in an attempt to ease his headache. He vaguely wondered why his head throbbed so much. Was it the fact that he hadn’t eaten since the morning, or all the time spent grinding his teeth during the day, the uproar and adrenaline of the afternoon, the sharp stench of sulfur and the pounding—

Time grunted as Warriors landed in his lap without warning. “Pay attention!” he snapped, waving a curved vibrator in Time’s direction. “I’ve never seen this before! Have you been holding out on me again!?”

Time reacted without thinking, gripping Warriors’s arms with more force than he meant to. He opened his mouth to snarl out something he’d regret, but the honest surprise in War’s eyes cut him short. So Time closed his eye, forcing his hands onto the arms of the chair instead, squeezing at the upholstery.

“Can you please just… give it a rest? For today?” Time choked the words out around his frustration. “I’m not… I’m not in the mood.”

Warriors was quick to back out of Time’s lap, stepping aside and giving Time some space. He watched cautiously as the old man stood, crossing toward his bathroom in silence. Time left the door ajar as he turned on the shower, as was his habit. While the shower ran, Warriors moved about the room quietly, returning the offending toy to the drawer, straightening the rumpled duvet, taking a moment to collect Time’s shed clothing from the floor to toss in his hamper.

Finding the flecks of blood on his shirtsleeve.

Once Time finished his shower and returned to the bedroom, he found it straightened up and empty. It was like Warriors hadn’t even been there at all. Time wasn’t sure whether he liked that or not. He pulled on whatever pajamas were at the top of his drawer and landed facedown on the bed. He didn’t have the energy to crawl beneath the covers, or to turn off the light, or even to try and fall asleep.

Time had resigned himself to another sleepless night by the time the soft knock came at his bedroom door. He sighed as he pushed himself into a respectable sitting position, rubbing at his face. “Yeah?”

He was a little surprised when Warriors reentered the room, brows raised and expression haughty even if he avoided eye contact. He was even more surprised to see that Warriors carried a familiar little wooden tray. Wars approached the side of the bed, settling down next to Time and setting the tray on the bedspread in front of them: two steaming mugs of tea, a little carafe with some cream, and a tiny bowl filled with sugar cubes.

“Chamomile and lemon.”

“I hate chamomile,” Time blurted.

Warriors shot him a tepid look before turning the tray around. “Lavender honey, then.”

Time slumped a bit, looking down at Warriors’s offering before turning his eye away in guilt. Warriors reached forward to start spooning sugar into his own mug. “So. Do you want to talk about it?”

Time sat in silence for a long while. Did he?

Warriors gave him time, lifting his mug to his lips to take a sip and promptly grimacing. Oh, that was dreadful, wasn’t it.

Eventually, Time settled on, “Not really.”

Warriors hummed in understanding as he set the mug back down. “Would you like company?”

Time heaved a long, low sigh.

“… Please.”

#stormy writes #lmtcoy #warrtime #is <1000 words adequate for adding an honest-to-god chapter in the story?#because I like this

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lustbile-archive · 4 years

Text

In The Cards

HaechanxReader

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary/Warning: Smut. Best friend Haechan wants you to read his tarot :( warning! very beginner tarot knowledge. all card interpretations found on the app golden tarot

Request: can i request a bestfriend-to-lovers hyuck where he and the reader share their first time together?

This is the third installment of my week of halloween fics. Info about possible blurb night here

“Please?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird.”

“How is it weird?”

“Haechan seriously,” you finally turn to face him as you lay side by side on your bed, the pout and puppy eyes he wears on his face the exact thing you had feared to see as you knew he had his ways of convincing you no matter what, “you’re asking me to do a reading on your love life.”

“And how is that weird?” his voice pitches as he turns to mirror you, now with you both on your sides and your phones tucked under your respective pillows you have no choice but to stare into his warm eyes. His body is dramatically lax as he relaxes into the mattress, already ready to toss his body around obnoxiously if you decide to deny him again.

“You’re my best friend dude, it would be weird to see what the cards say about your possible romantic activities,” you were somewhat telling the truth. Yes, you thought it would be kind of weird to see what your cards had to say about his love life, the idea being weirdly intimate for you, but you also knew that there was a small part of you, an evil yet insecure little gremlin that had made a home in your heart a few months before, that would take whatever they say directly to heart. You never anticipated forming romantic feelings for the boy in front of you, actually when you and Haechan had first started getting close you stubbornly denied that something like that happening was possible, yet here you were stupidly infatuated with the boy who lays in your bed wrapped warmly in a worn hoodie with your heart trapped between his teeth, “that and I’m not even that good at doing readings yet.”

“An even better reason to do it,” he sits up with a jolt of energy making you return to your place on your back to watch him, “so even if you do my reading, like you said you’re not that experienced so we won’t take what they say to heart right? It can just be for fun.”

Your eyes squint in disbelief as you try to read the look on his face. Regardless of his words, you know it wouldn’t just be for fun. Haechan had made it kind of obvious on the few occasions that tarot readings, and things related to things of that nature, were brought up, that he truly did believe it. Haechan had a whimsy about him, a belief and willingness to believe in things outside of himself, things he couldn’t really explain, and usually you’d find it incredibly endearing, but now it just helped in raising your stress levels.

“Come on dude,” his head tilts back and his face scrunches as he tries to convince you, his determination unfortunately making a smile start to pull onto your lips, “I’m bored and the ambiance is way too sexy right now for us to not do some witchy shit.”

Again, like always, he was unfortunately right. It was late into the night, nearing 3 am, and a storm raged loudly outside. The storm being the exact thing that had locked Haechan in your room to begin with as it had knocked your power out an hour or so before the time he was meant to leave, so he had decided to stay instead. He had claimed it was because he didn’t want to bother with traveling in the storm, but you could easily pick out the softness behind his eyes when you casually mentioned not wanting to be alone in the dark.

Along with the steady storm, you had also gathered your collection of candles and scattered them lit around the room, that and the quiet sounds of Florence + The Machine and Fleetwood Mac playing from the small speakers connected to your phone only supported Haechan’s argument. You two had perfectly crafted the perfect atmosphere to ask questions to some other force, and you can’t help but kick yourself for putting yourself in such a position.

“Okay fine,” you finally respond hesitantly, a grimace on your face and you move to sit up as well. You hate the way your chest tightens at his reaction to your words, an excited jump bouncing him in the air as he leans over to the table you keep to the side of your bed. The idea that he just knows exactly where you keep your things dances tauntingly in your mind and you angrily push it down as you move to sit facing him with your legs crossed underneath you.

“Found ‘em,” he whispers as he rifles through the drawer, a quiet triumphant noise squeaking from his chest as he moves to sit back in front of you, mirroring the way you sit with a smug grin on his face.

“Shuffle them a couple times for me,” you say, motioning to the deck in his hands, and he does so immediately. His fingers work slowly and gently, the fear of damaging the deck floating around his form. He splits it a few times, shuffling them together in a neat stack before he hands them to you like a devious cat happily offering their owner a dead mouse, and you smile softly at his consideration for your things.

“I’m only gonna do a three card pull okay? Past, present, and future okay?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s cool,” he nods excitedly as he shifts around where he sits, his anticipation slowly gaining on him, “I’m cool with whatever.”

“Okay give me a question to ask while I shuffle,” you command, your hands holding the deck as you get ready to shuffle, “it can be as detailed or vague as you want, the cards should understand what we're asking.”

“I just wanna know…’’ he hesitates for a moment, his lips caught between his lips as he thinks, “love life I-.... hm… I guess I want to ask it to show me the path my love life will take.”

You only nod in response before your eyes fall closed. Your heart beat picks up and your hands shake slightly in your nervousness, but regardless you begin to repeat the question in your mind as your hands begin to move. ‘Show me the path of Donghyuck’s love life’ you speak to your cards as they dance between your fingers, your hands much more rough than Haechan’s.

His breathing is almost deafening as it's the only human sound that hits you as you work, and you hear it catch when your hands stop moving.

Your eyes open again, and with a deep breath you lean forward to spread the cards out in front of him in the shape of a fan, “pick three and put them in my hand,” you command again with your hand held out flat, “whichever three speak to you.”

“Okay,” he whispers, his fingers moving to hover over the cards and the way he holds himself he looks as if you’ve just asked him to take a standardized test. He jolts slightly before grabbing the card below his hand, and it's quickly placed on your palm. His reaction when picking the other two are not much different, and after a minute or two you have all three cards and you’re gently collecting and setting the remaining cards to the side.

“Okay,” you start as you shift to get in a more comfortable position, “we’ll start with past.”

He nods as you move to lay down the first card you were handed, the card revealing itself to be The Lovers, their naked bodies and the angel that lives behind them almost taunting you and making you tongue stick dryly to the roof of your mouth.

“Okay..” you trail off as you glance at the boy in front of you, his eyes going slightly wild at the sight of the card in front of him, “now present.”

Wanting to get out of the situation as quickly as possible, you lay the next card down, and before you now lay the two of cups. Another pairing of people to stare as you squirm.

“Finally,” you huff moving to lay down the last card, “future.”

With a soft thud, you place the card down, the naked woman that floats in the center of The World card is impossible to ignore. Haechan hums quietly in consideration, his head bobbing slightly as his eyes move across the spread before him. He looks pensive for a moment when he looks up at you, until a playful grin takes over his features.

“What does any of this mean?” he asks with a laugh.

“Well,” you start moving to grab the book you keep next to your pillow that hold the different descriptions of the cards, scolding yourself for still not having them memorized, “none of them are reversed so that that as a good sign, and none of them are The Tower so you’re not doomed to die alone I suppose.”

He laughs again as he watches you flip through the book, your eyebrows knitted together as you search for the first card.

“Okay so, your past is The lovers,” you start, one hand resting on top of the card as your eyes shift around the page, “it represents partnership, union, duality, and choice. This says it means a union of harmony, full of trust, confidence and strength, This relationship both a physical attraction and a deep emotional bond between them.”

You stutter slightly as you read, your eyes darting up to gage his reaction once the words leave your mouth, his face is soft but serious as he thinks, and you can’t help but get overwhelmed by the look.

“Okay, and then present,” you hand shifts to the Two of Cups while your other hand flips to the correct page, “this card means unity, partnership and two become one…” you trail off slightly, hoping Haechan only assumes it’s from you trying to read the page and not for the real reason that is the words in front of you makes you heart beat harshly against your chest, “signaling a union and partnership of balance, honor, and respect, The ancient symbol of the caduceus also suggests energy, passion, and sex, and the intermingling of opposite forces.”

“Oh,” he responds involuntarily as he absorbs the words you speak, and you can only wish that you could crawl into his mind and see exactly what he’s thinking.

“Okay and lastly, your future,” you shift again, your previous position suddenly not feeling comfortable anymore, “The World card represents fulfillment, harmony, and completion. It says, absolute unity, perfection, accomplishment that draws from inner and outer sources. This card signals the harmony of the inner and outer worlds, and reaching a level of enlightenment. An era of one's life is complete and there is joy and celebration that is coming to welcome it.”

With a soft smacking noise, you shut the book and place it back to its spot next to your pillow. Your words still linger in the air with a tension wrapped around them, and in your desperation to avoid Haechan’s eyes you begin to return the cards to the deck, a silent thank you being spoken in your mind as you thank them for their knowledge.

“So what do you think about that?” he asks, his voice softer than earlier, the tone making your eyes dart up to try and read the emotion on his face.

“It’s not about what I think Hyuck…” you place the hair tie that lives on your wrist around the deck to secure it and place it on top of the book, and when your done you lean back onto the palms of your hands to survey his body language while also creating more distance between you, “it was your reading so it’s your interpretation, what did that tell you?”

The words come out like you’re trying to cough up years worth of chewed gum and the way they clog your throat makes you feel weird. It may be up to his interpretation, but you can’t stop the way the cards and their meanings make you feel as they wrap a confusing combination of hope and terror around your fragile heart.

“I think,” he starts as he once again moves to mirror the way you sit, a soft but unsure smile on his face, “they told me exactly what I needed to hear.”

“And what was that Hyuck?”

“Well you know, the whole emphasis on partnership, and union, and choices. If anything i’m starting to think your cards like me a little bit cause they kind of told me exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“And what was it you wanted to hear Haechan?” you ask, his smugness and confidence making you laugh quietly.

“That I’m not putting my hope or my heart in the wrong place. I think it’s saying that I’m right in wanting the thing I want so badly.”

“Jeez Donghyuck,” you huff as you fall to lay back onto your side, a giddy feeling flooding you as he once again follows suit, “you speak in more riddles than the cards do.”

“Oh do you want me to tell you straight forward what those cards just told me?” he asks rhetorically as he lays close enough for his face to crowd you personal space, his breath occasionally hitting your skin.

“Well yeah, lay it on me Hyuck, what did those cards encourage you to do?”

“I’ll fucking lay it on you alright,” he doesn’t even give you the time to form the question in your mind of what he could possibly mean before he’s on the move. He’s on you before you can blink, his body pushing you onto your back and his hands landing against your bed next to your head and caging you in. Your body reacts before your mind does, and your hands are gripping his wrists and you legs are falling to the side to allow him to rest between your thighs, as he knocks the air from your lungs with his mouth pressing against yours.

You both let out matching hums in content at the feeling of each other’s lips. You’d call yourself a liar if you said you had never imagined what it would be like to kiss the boy that now rests on top of you, but no matter how many hours you had logged dreaming about the very moment, none of it prepared you for now.

He rests his body flush against yours as his lips work against yours, and there’s only a beat of time before his tongue is brushing against your bottom lip, begging for entrance.

You break away, the idea of him feeling the same way as you filling you with childish excitement and confidence, so much that you can’t stop yourself before you’re teasing, “so my cards told you to attack me?”

“Hush,” he pecks against your lips once before speaking again, “they told me I was completely in the right for being in love with my best friend, and that making a move would only end in happiness.”

“You’re in love with me?” you ask, those being the only words that stick in your mind, Your hands tighten around his wrists, and the skin of his face flushes in realization of what he said.

“Uh… yes,” his eyes are filled with his nerves as they lock onto yours. The internal debate he has with himself of wanting to tear his eyes away while being completely unable to is transparent and puts you at ease at the idea that he’s just as nervous as you, “I’m sorry if that’s really abrupt, but I really am.”

“Donghyuck,” you whisper, leaning up to nudge the tip of your nose against his, “I’m in love with you too.”

“Thank fuck,” he swears louder than intended, and you giggles of happiness is smothered by his lips latching to yours again.

There’s no asking this time as his tongue shoves its way into your mouth, and you let out a pleased groan when the moment he licks at the back of your teeth, his hips shift down and he begins to softly grind against the crotch of the thin fabric of your pajama shorts.

“Tell me,” he speaks between open-mouthed kisses that he places across you mouth and up your jaw, his words doing their own licking against the shell of your ear, “tell me if you want to stop, cause I don’t think I can.”

“I trust you Hyuck,” you whisper during the fleeting second that your mouth is free, “do whatever you want, I’m so in love with you.”

He groans loudly at the string of words that leave you, the noise cutting through and disrupting the smooth voice of Stevie Nicks and his body returns to rocking gently against yours.

Your hands trail away from his wrists, moving up his forearms and up until your fingers tangle in his hair. The slight tugging you give to his roots pulls another groan from his mouth, and the sparks of pleasure that hits your lower stomach at the sound combined with his hardening length pressing against you through the thick fabric of his sweatpants makes you feel like you could live in this moment forever.

You can feel your growing arousal spilling from you, the wetness making the fabric of your underwear stick to your skin, and at the feeling of him suddenly bumping gently against your clit makes you squeak as you hips begin meeting his thrusts with their own.

“Please,” you whimper out when his mouth latches onto the skin stretched over your jugular, “want it. Need you.”

“I’m gonna keep you up all night,” he growls the promise against your neck, “I have so much time to make up for.”

He sits up, a smile of pride on his face when you huff at the loss of him. You only get a few sounds of discontent out before his hands are grabbing at the fabric of your shorts, and shoving them down your legs, your ruined underwear following. The fabric is tossed behind his shoulder, and in his impatience, his hands are rough as they grab at your thighs. He pulls you, bringing you down the bed to be closer to him, before he’s pushing his own pants down to bunch at his hips, his tip brushing against you and making you jump as he slaps against his stomach.

You squirm as he returns to his place flush against you, both at the sudden feeling of the room’s air hitting your damp skin and the way his length glides against you. You can feel your arousal smearing against him, and in your desperation, you’re grabbing his face and pulling back down to meet your lips again.

Laying there, pressed as tightly together as you can be with your mouths devouring the other’s, you feel him reach between your bodies. His fingers only take a moment to dip into you, gathering your wetness on his fingers, before he’s using it to coat his length more than it already is.

He pulls at himself a few times, the moans he lets out at the friction being swallowed by you, before he’s pressing into you without warning.

The stretch and the idea of your best friend being the one that is so suddenly fucking into you has you reeling. You feel overtaken by the feeling of whiplash, and as he pushes into you inch by inch, you let out a moan that lived deep in your belly.

He pauses when he’s fully inside of you, the depth that he reaches as the girth of him making your eyes begin to roll wildly and before you can catch your breath his hips are retreating.

His pace is rough. He’s slow, and he doesn’t pull but a few inches out, but every time he returns to your body, it's a harsh thrust that knocks the air from your lungs.

It’s not long before you feel overwhelmed, the way the cozy heat from the candles and the thick fabric of his clothes as they brush against you licks at your skin and sinks you into the mattress. His mouth refuses to separate from yours, and his thrusts are consistent and unrelenting.

You’re sure you’ve never felt more held in your life as your wrapped up with your best friend, one of his hands moving to hold the side of your face while the other travels down to play with the sensitive nerves of your clit. The gentle way his hands move against you contrasted by the rough way he fucks into you has you clinging desperately to his hoodie as warm tears well up in your eyes.

One of your hands moves down as you get closer, your nails digging into the fabric that covers his ass as you desperately try to pull him closer than he already was. This and the way your hips start bucking against him makes him groan as you two get tangled in your sheets.

You feel the tingling warning of your orgasm running up your spine, a crackling moan feeding into his mouth from yours and the way you softly clench around him being his only warning before you come with a cry.

His hips stutter as he follows quickly behind, a very similar sound of bliss slipping from his mouth as you two begin to shake against each other.

You feel like you’ve been sewn into his skin as you twitch together with aftershocks, him equally as unwilling to separate his body from yours. Once he pulls his hand from between your bodies, his arms wrap tightly around your waist, and he pulls you tightly into his chest as he lays his full weight on you, and you legs wrap around him as you refuse to let him slip out of you.

“We’re going again in a minute,” his voice rasps as he presses his face into your shoulder, his nose nuzzling against the skin.

“Really?” You ask with a laugh as your hands return to their job of running through his hair.

“Yes I just need a minute,” he promises, and you shiver as his hips start to shift already without him even thinking, “it’s what your cards would have wanted.”

#nct smut #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #nct imagine #haechan imagines #kpop smut

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midnightmoonkiss · 4 years

Text

Oh, What A Ghost!

Ghost! Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Vampire! Reader

Summary: Being a pervert gets you punished, not that he minded.

WARNINGS!: Biting, oral (male and female receiving), face riding, fingering, butt stuff, blood, voyeurism, masturbation, orgasm denial, toys, a lot of nsfw content. Sub! Izuku

Category: Smut

Word Count: 5.4k+

A/N: Did I shove as many kinks into this as I could? yeah<3 HAPPY HALLOWEEN! :)

Just To Clarify:

They’re consenting third years (aka 18+)

There is a heiarchy but Izuku totally tears it down

This was a fun monster!au I made up :)

It’s Halloween lmao.

Perm. Tag List:

@coupsieddori @desia2 @strwbrry-lia

“You’re such a pervert, Izuku~”

“H-HaaaH! (L/N)..! Pl-please-! I’m- mmMM!! I’m s-ssorry-!”

“Is that so?”

To be honest, you never thought this would happen, never thought you’d be given the opportunity to make a move on your crush in such a.. bold and licentious fashion.

He did have it coming, though, considering you caught him red handed.

Ghosts were always so sneaky and aberrant, their ability to walk or float through walls and turn invisible offering a plethora of possibilities for activities, both good and bad. You didn’t expect such an ‘innocent’ and kind boy to partake in such activities that his race was known for, and yet, you weren’t all that surprised when you found out that he lived up to the stereotype.

Then again, most monsters did.

It was mostly inevitable, after all.

Just like how ghosts were perverts, vampires were sadists. And that’s exactly what you were.

Poor little Izuku, he had no idea the true trouble he got himself into, and on such a respected night as well.

Halloween.

October 31st.

The holiday was bigger than any other, the entire island, or at least the participating parts, went all out with decorations every year.

From lights to festivals, everyone went nuts.

It was the day that worshipped the supernatural, after all.

In a world where humans and creatures, previously thought as myths, coexist, humans have always overpopulated the monsters, and so schools built just for them popped up all over the globe. The one you and your dear friend, Midoriya, attended happened to be the most famous one, known for using monsters ability to fight against those who used it for wrong. It truly was thrilling, and it saved those previously in public schools from the bullying that occured all too much.

The school, UA, was like a pot of stew, all kinds of monsters mixing together. Werewolves, witches, wizards, zombies, vampires, ghosts, and so many more. Though, most typically stuck with their own group, but it wasn’t uncommon for people to branch out, just like how you were friends with a ghost and a zombie.

It took society a long time to accept monsters, and some still dont, but who needs them anyway, right?

Besides, to you, monsters were much more fun, especially when vampires and sirens were considered the top of the hierarchy.

Ghosts, ghouls, and zombies were at the bottom, their power not all that great, but vampires and sirens, alongside werewolves, were at the very top, the most well respected and feared monsters.

Though you were looked down on by your fellow vamps by befriending a ghost, you couldn’t care less.

As months flew by, and two school years came and went, you found yourself falling madly in love with the man who captivated you.

If he didnt float and walk through walls sometimes, you wouldve assumed he was a different class from how he held himself, strong, and not weak and defenseless.

You loved it.

But there was always something that made you question him sometimes, how he’d disappear without saying a word, how he’d be flustered around you one day and not the next. It was strange, but you never looked into it.

Little did you know, the dirty little ghost was up to absolutely no good.

His.. habit manifested out of fear, ever since that summer camp that occurred the first year, and he saw how badly wounded you were, he grew protective of you, even if you were miles ahead of him in strength. He’d check up on you somtimes, turning invisible and poking his head in through your dorm room window.

He knew it was wrong, peeking into a girls room- at night.. but.. he couldnt help himself.

He swore he would stop, but he never did.

One day, he happened to catch you.. doing quite a lewd act. He knew in his gut he shouldve floated away, to not be a peeping tom, but his large green eyes were glued to your perfect body, and how your fingers dipped in and out of your wet flesh with a squelch and moan that made his virgin cock twitch in his shorts.

Was it wrong to grab his dick, bucking into his hand as he watched you get off to an audio?

Maybe..

No, it definitely was!

But you.. you were so!!

So hot!

He lost count of the amount of times he’s cum on his hand watching you cum on your own, far too many.

But he slipped up today, let a moan escape past his hand and suddenly your ruby red eyes met his own.

He knew you couldnt see him, but he knew that you knew he was there!!

You smirked, showing off your sharp fangs, “Izuku.”

The pure shock he felt from hearing you say his name made him manifest into thin air on accident, collapsing to his knees as ghost costume covered his indecency.

There was a Halloween party tonight, and he dressed up as his race thinking it was funny- but it wasn’t really funny anymore.

And so, that led him to where he was now, willingly beneath your naked body glistening with sweat from the full moons silvery light pouring in through the window as you ground your bare pussy against his sensitive cock.

You pinned his arms above his head, your hungry gaze boring into his soul, he couldnt deny how hot it was, or how true your words were.

He was a pervert.

“Y-yes!” He cried out, tears pricking at his eyes from the embarrassment he felt at being caught, “I’m s-sorry..!”

His breath caught in his throat when you leaned down, your face hovering over his own.

“Mmm.. I don’t know if I can believe you, ‘Zuku.. How can I know you’re really sorry?”

You batted your eyes at him, pouting, such a devious thing to do.

“I-I’ll do a-anything t- haaahh.. nn.. t-to prove it..!”

He was so cute.

“Anything?” You pondered.

“Yes-“

You cut him off with a kiss, and you couldnt help but grin when he moaned against you.

This kiss turned into another, and another, and soon you were finally making out with him. It was sloppy and uncoordinated, but eventually you both fell into a rhythm, him whimpering each time you rolled your hips against him.

Swiping a tongue over his quivering bottom lip, he eagerly opened his mouth, just for you to invade his maw, greedily sucking his sweet tongue into your mouth, causing him to give in and buck up against your sopping warmth, giving your clit delicious friction.

“Mm-!”

Pulling away, his mouth chased your own for a second, “H-hah-! (L/N)!”

Pressing a finger to his plump lips, you pushed his head back down against your pillow.

“Say.. you wouldn’t mind if we’re a little late to the party, would you?” You smiled coquettishly down at the squirming boy covered in scars and freckles.

Gulping rather loudly, he shook his head, eyes wide and face burning red, his hormones going wild. How could he say no, when his crush was rubbing her naked self against him and enjoying it?

He would be a fool, a damn fool to say no, he wanted it too much. He wanted you, and he would say just about anything, do anything you wanted, to have you.

“Mm~ Good boy.” The praise went straight to his gut, butterflies forming and going wild inside him, making his hands clammy.

Reaching over, you dug around the drawer of your nightstand, pulling out a pair of red and black leather handcuffs that matched your curtains and rug.

Izuku let out a whine as his wrists were cuffed to the bed, giving in immediately.

“Bad boys don’t get to touch.” You teased, tapping his nose and watching as it wrinkled.

But this just meant you couldn't get his shirt and ghost sheet off, not that you particularly minded. You didn't need him completely naked.

Fulling slipping off him, you watched for a moment as his cock twitched, begging for you to come back to it.

It made you giggle, and he flushed like a cherry.

Sauntering over to your closet, swaying your hips in a hypnotic way Izuku couldn’t ignore, you dug around, soon finding the glittery box you were looking for and pulling it out, showing it to him with a cheeky grin.

“W-whats in that.. (L/N)..?”

“(Y/N).”

“Huh?”

“Call me (Y/N), love.”

“O-oh…” Biting his lip, he looked conflicted for a split second, clearly inwardly debating if it was okay, before stuttering out your first name, only adding to the joy you felt.

Flipping the light switch off, your red fairy lights hung around the room made it glow crimson, your favorite color, especially on him.

The red glow made the atmosphere that much more romantic and sexy, his eyes reflecting the colors. It was like you were in the red light disctric in a dirt cheap hookup hotel, about to fuck your boyfriend who insisted upon not getting caught. How utterly disgraceful, and yet the thought excited you.

Setting the box down beside him on the bed, you sat at the bottom of the mattress, in front of his sock covered feet, noting how his hips wiggled impatiently and how he looked away with his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

Still so shy despite you rubbing yourself on him earlier.

“Look at me, darling.” You purred, dragging your nails up his leg to catch his attention.

Hesitantly, he turned his head, nervous eyes meeting your own.

It was rare that he saw them so red, the signature sign of a hungry vampire. They were captivating, and he found himself diving into their depths, drowning in you without you even touching him.

Placing your hands on his knees, you spread his legs apart, eliciting a mouse-like squeak from him.

Even with his pants on, he felt so bare..

His heart jumped to his through when you gripped the hem of his pants and boxers, “Mind if I take these off?”

How polite of you..

He nodded his head, unruly green locks bouncing as he did so, squeezing his eyes shut.

“GAH” He screeched when you suddenly used your vampiric speed to pull them both down quickly and toss them so fast to the other side of the room that they slapped against the wall like a wet fish.

He was stunned, staring blankly at them, about to question it when he was cut off with a guttural groan, your lips suddenly wrapping around the tip of his weeping cock.

“H-hah-! A-ah! (L/-)- I me-an (Y/N-N)—! Wh-! MMMM!! Oh!!”

Despite your own mess covering his member, which definitely delighted you, you could still taste the salty precum dripping out as your tongue licked over his slit, his back arching from the stimulation.

He couldnt help but buck up pathetically with a mewl, only to have his hips pinned down to the mattress with one of your hands.

“Ah, ah, ah~” You whispered against his tip, piercing eyes cutting into his skin like a poisonous knife as you dared him to fight against your hold.

He gulped, accepting his fate with a shaky breath.

Content with his obedience, you licked along the underside of his cock, savoring his musky flavor.

“Hnn! Hoahh..”

He was so.. vocal.. even with the slightest touch, you’d get a reaction out of him. It was fascinating, and only made you want to see how much more you could pull from him before he lost the ability to speak a coherent sentence.

Slipping his member back into your mouth, you swirl the tip of your tongue around his bulbous, flushed head, reaching up to grab the discarded lube you had left on your bed,

“MmMm! O-oh..! My G-gosh..! Haa-!”

Squirting some of the clear jell-like liquid on your palm, you wrapped your hand around his shaft, smiling when he jumped, just to start pumping you fist up and down.

“G-GAaAh! Oh, (Y/N).!”

He himself found it hard to not thrash around from the intense pleasure he was feeling at the moment.

He couldnt help the drool slipping from the corner of his mouth as you began to bob your head up and down his member whilst simultaneously twisting your hand up and down his shaft, squeezing in places that made his mind go blank for a second.

He just felt so good!

It was so much different from pleasuring himself!

He had no control over his ecstasy, no control over how fast or how slow you went, and he loved it-!

“HyAAh!” He cried out like a girl when you suddenly deepthroated him, his tip pressing down your throat as you wet mouth squeezed and sucked on him like your favorite lollipop.

His hips fought against your hold as his head flung back, tears pricking at his eyes as you sucked him for all he was worth, his poor, over sensitive cock.

“O-OH! Oh, NnnNGH!! HaaA ! AAaaAh! (Y-Y/N)..!!!”

His handcuffs clinked together as his body began to shake, a warm feeling spreading in his lower stomach as his muscular thighs began to tense.

His orgasm hit him like a freight train, out of nowhere, intense, and electrifyingly cosmic.

His hazy green eyes rolled back, tongue flopping from his mouth as white hot and tangy cum squirted from his dick down your throat.

You greedily sucked it down around him, causing his entire body to jerk and twitch, cries and babbles fleeing past his spit-slick lips, the oversensitivity making his nerves burn in an oh-so good way.

Popping off his softening cock, you crawled back up his body, staring down at his cute, chubby, sleepy face.

You pinched his cheeks, pulling at it, successfully catching his attention and making his darkened eyes focus on you.

“O-oh-!” He stuttered, face burning impossibly hotter as he watched you seemingly savor his flavor with lidded eyes.

“We’re not done yet, Izuku.”

Your statement made him freeze like a deer in front of headlights. What else was there to do?

He already came.. oh!

Wait!

“Y-you didn’t.. c-cum..” He bashfully averted his gaze as you nodded, gears turning in his head again as he recovered from his high.

He knew exactly what you wanted.

“You know, you have such a soft and adorable face,”

“Wh-“

“Do you mind if I sit on it?”

Was this your way of asking him to eat you out?!

How bold!

How could you be so bold!

Despite being nervous, he nodded his head, smiling giddily.

He had watched plenty of videos, had taken a plethora of notes, and even, as weird as it was, practiced on multiple fruits.

He was nearly positive he could please you.

He wanted to.

He needed to, to hear your own sweet moans caused by him.

He wanted that so bad.

Without thinking, he opened his mouth, eyebrows pinching together as he stared pleadingly up at you with his tongue out and ready to please.

He was such a good boy.

Standing up on your knees, you walked forward, your dripping pussy soon hovering over the excited boys mouth.

Lowering yourself, your thighs wrapping around his head, you were immediately met with an eager tongue lapping at your dripping folds.

“Oh~! My, s-someones enthusiaststic-!”

Bracing up urself on your hands and knees. You made sure not to suffocate the poor man as he rapaciously ate you out, sucking your puffy clit into his mouth and giving it much needed attention.

“Haaaah.. Izuku..! You’re such a good boy for me, eating my mm.. pussy like its your dinner!” You gasped, fingers threading through his messy green locks, pulling at them just to feel the vibrations of his moans against your clit.

You bucked against his mouth, riding his tongue and grinding down against his teeth.

“Mm-mmh! Hnmm…” His moans were muffled, wet licks filling the room.

He could feel your juices dripping down his chin as he was willingly smothered with your womanhood, completely trapped under you and beyond happy to obey.

His tongue dragged over your pretty pink labia, prodding at and slipping into your clenching entrance, slurping up your mess.

He could eat you out all day and never get tired, he was sure of it!

And your noises of pleasure were heavenly.. music to his straining ears. And the way you combed through his hair, he somehow felt like this was just as good as cumming, making someone else feel good..

But you suddenly lifted off his face, his tongue still moving for a second before he stared up at you with childish confusion.

His face was red and covered in your liquids, a true mess.

Chucking, you leaned back, wrapping your hand around his cock that sprung to life over the course of his meal, “I want to cum on your cock, Izu.”

Your dirty words made his heart jump and his member twitch in your grasp.

“P-please..” Though he knew he was going to get just that, he couldnt help but beg, it felt like he was supposed to, or that he had to- for himself just as much as for you.

“But first..” you trailed off, finally reaching into the box and pulling out multiple things that made him involuntarily buck impatiently into thin air.

In your hands, you held egg vibrators, a black cock ring, and a red ribbed vibrating dildo.

He gulped audibly once more, and you were positive if he were a werewolf, his tail would be wagging with those hearts in his eyes.

“Do you know what these are?”

He nodded his head. Gaze trained on them as you fiddled with the devices.

“Have you any idea what I’ll be doing with them?”

He shook his head, innocently smiling at you, the cheeky shit.

“How about I show you?”

With that, you lubed up your finger, diving between his legs, pressing against his clenching hole, circling around it.

“H-haah..” His heart was pounding so hard it felt like he was at a concert as your finger slowly pushed in his tight hole.

“Nngh!” His cheek pressed against the pillow at the weird feeling of someone entering his body in such a way.

You finger thrusted in and out of him slowly, feeling around his warm, gummy walls for a certain button you knew he would enjoy having pushed.

His thighs were splayed wide for you, cock resting on his toned tummy covered by a white sheet.

You could only hope he didnt ruin his costume with how much he was leaking. He certainly had a sloppy dick.

Leaning down, you pressed kisses to his freckled inner thigh, pushing in a second finger and watching in amusement as he slowly got into it, embracing the feeling of being filled with your digits.

It wasnt long before you managed to fit in a third finger, grinning at how his ass practice swallowed them, “God, Izuku.. your ass is so greedy for my fingers, you keep sucking them back in~”

“A-aah! (Y/N)!! D-don’t say such-!! Nnghnn! Lewd th��things!”

“Hmm… I wonder… where is that pesky little spot..”

“W-what-? AH! H-AahAh! NGHH! Oh-oH! F-FaH! FuCk!”

“Bingo.”

You finally located his prostate, giving it no mercy as you aimed your fingers to press against it with each time you pushed and curled them inside him.

But from his thighs tensing beneath your lips and his cock twitching, you knew he was close again, and that was no good.

“A-AAaaAh! I’m!! I’m g-gonna! C-cu- hAh?!”

You pulled your fingers out, wiping the lube onto the sheets below you as he wiggled like a worm on the sidewalk, desperately bucking his hips and begging for you to give him more.

“Oh, I will..” Smirking over at him again, the glint in your eyes made him moan and feel like prey. You, a lioness on the prowl, and him, a mouse with nowhere to hide, completely bare for you, “But not just yet, baby. This is a punishment, after all.”

Though he was embarrassed at first with having his thighs spread so wide open, exposing every intimate part of himself to you, he didnt feel too shy anymore. You didnt judge him at all, in fact, you swallowed him whole. It was mind numbingly pleasant, and he never thought he would ever get to experience this, not even in his dreams.

For it to come true.. and to find out you were a kinky lady.. he was enthralled.

Leaning up, you captured his lips in a kiss again, giving him time to calm down as you once again molded your lips together in a lustful heat.

He learned quick, his kisses becoming lasting as he met your pace with wet smacks and tongues brushing against eachother. His own passed over your fangs, and you both shivered when a drop of blood entered your mouth.

You inhaled sharply through your nose, eyes practically glowing in the red light of the room as you tasted him. He surely had the best blood you had even tasted before, nothing at all like how ghosts usually taste! They were bland and boring, but him-! He was nectareous and saporous.

“Fuck, Izu.. you taste so.. magnificent..”

You licked his tongue again, holding onto that single drop of blood for as long as you could, his flavor making you keen with delight.

His lips parted to speak, but he was once again cut off with a lewd moan as you shoved the dildo halfway into his readily awaiting ass.

“GuaAh! W-wait!! It’s..! Too much!” He panted heavily, tears streaming down his cheeks from how good the vibrating phallic shaped object felt inside of him, almost like it was mixing his insides up like a blender.

“Mm, should I? You look like you’re enjoying this, Zuzuku.”

“Mmm..!! H-aAAaA..!”

Pushing further into him, you got the entire toy burried deep in his walls, pulling it back out, fucking him with the plastic object.

His thighs were spread so wide he feared they’re snap off at the hip as he rocked his ass on the toy, vision hazy as continue to cry out.

“HAAAAHH!! AAAH..!”

He screamed when the toy pressed against his button, pounding against it and making his legs turn to mush as he bucked so hard his heavy cock bobbed in thin air, slapping down against his stomach continuously.

Just when his eyes were rolling back again and his jaw was lax, about to cum, you pulled the toy out, “(Y/N)!!”

He sobbed in frustration, desperation building inside him to cum, even going as far as to try and drag you back with his legs.

“You cant cum yet, Izuku! We havent even used all these fun vibrators yet!” You held up the three vibrators with one hand, an all too innocent smile plastered on your face whilst he looked completely wrecked.

“M-mmh! B-but-!”

Not giving him time to talk, you grasped his leaking cock, pumping it a few times, watching as he tried to fuck into the tunnel you created.

Grabbing the black cock ring, you stretch it on his awaiting member as he whines, knowing full well he cannot cum with such a device on. It would be torturous, but he was being punished after all, even if he had aready cum and his mind was turning to goo, he still remembered that. Of course you would make it so he couldnt cum again.

Taking the vibrators, you taped them around him, one snug just under his slit, and two against his sensitive spots.

Turning them on, his back arched impossibly high off the bed with a wail, involuntarily fucking up into the air from the intense stimulation.

Content, you sat back, pushing the vibrator in again and turning it on.

You swore he was going crazy as he let out garbled moans, “G-guAAh! F-fucgh!! NAAh! Mm! Yo-ou.! Youguhhh..! MmeaaAAh!”

He was finally incoherent, steams of tears pouring from his eyes nearly consumed by his pupil, trying to fuck himself onto the vibrator and fuck into air.

He was a slobbering mess, body twitching and convulsing like a possessed child, your name spilling from his lips and muddling with other words on a praise.

“You’re so beautiful like this, Izuku… so wrecked and horny.. my little cum baby.. I bet you wanna cum, huh?”

Your hand slipped between your own thighs, slowly rubbing your clit as you got off to the gorgeous view before you.

Sweet and innocent Izuku Midoriya, the nerd of class 3A, your best friend who always helped others before himself, driven mad with pleasure, practically going insane- all by your doing.

It made you feel even more powerful than you already were.

Hearing a wet squelching, his curious gaze traveled to you, moaning heartily once he saw you fucking your pussy with your fingers, all while gazing at him with such a smolder he felt he was going to burn up. Hell, he already was burning up.

He felt hotter than the sun, and so ready to burst at the seams, but he couldnt.

“M-misstress! Pl-ehHAH.!! NHh! RidehuAh! Me..!”

What did he just say?

“Say that again, Izuku,”

“R-rAhIde-!”

“No, no, sweetheart,”

You pulled your fingers from yourself with a wet pop, pressing your hands to his sides and feeling him up under his shirt, gazing into his own once more, “before that.”

“Mmm..! Misss.. tress! H-haH.! Nnhgh..!”

Mistress. Now theres a word you never thought would fill you with joy.

Licking your lips, you decided enough was enough.

Grabbing his cock, you pull the vibrators off of him, immediately hovering yourself over him and sitting down with a hearty hum until he bottom out inside you with a cry of pleasure.

“GuAAAH!! (Y/N)!!! You’re!! So-!! NnnGh!! Mmmh! So tight-! Hahh..!” The vibrator still in his ass mixed up his insides, turning them into a liquid as you began to bounce on him like a trampoline.

He felt so good he didnt know what to do anymore, words he couldn’t comprehend bubbled past his parted lips, an onslaught of tears pouring from his ducts, pins and needles stabbing him everywhere in such a good way as he was overstimulated to the max.

Your walls hugged him like a vice, so warm and cozy, he wanted to be buried inside you all day.!

Inside you.. he was inside you!

You were fucking him so good-!

A smile made its way to his wrecked face, tongue hanging out of his mouth, sweat making his hair stick everywhere, he was connected with you…

He loved it.

And you loved him, that smile on his face warming your heart, but that familiar thirst stung the back of your throat, and your eyes were hyper focused on his neck covered in a blush and freckles.

His own cock was so big you felt like you were being stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey, but that wasnt enough to take your attention away.

Collapsing against his chest covered in clothing, you buried your nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply as the vibrations of his ecstasy rumbled in his chest and sung in your ears.

His scent overwhelmed you, made you delirious as you couldnt help but lick at his neck, nibbling and pulling at the skin.

His head lolled to the side, “bite— h-Huah! aaAH! Nnghhh!! MmMMmmhh! Bi-aAh-te! Me!!”

Bite him..? He was? Okay with it?

Well..

If he said to…

Your fangs sunk into his skin, blood spurting into your mouth and making your hips move inhumanly fast, he was so good..! Your eyes rolled back as you greedily sucked, his moans growing chopped, stuttered and louder.

He was slowly turning translucent beneath you as your fangs sunk into him again, and again, and again, blood flowing down your mouth like a delicious waterfall, savory and sweet, honeydew pine forest.

Blood smeared his skin growing more clear with each second as he lost his grip with reality.

“NgGHH! HAAAAAH!! MISTRuhUuESS! HAA-Ah!!”

The bed began to creak beneath you, your bounces growing more and more powerful as you felt yourself grow closer to sweet release, the blood pulling you higher up the mountain of ecstasy,

Suddenly, there was a loud snap, and a copious amount of thick cum filled your pussy, stuffing you even more to the point your belly had a small bulge from his cum. The feeling made you clamp down on him and cum with your own cries of pleasure mingling with his, fire exploding behind your vision as lighting shot down your body.

The bed suddenly broke beneath your bodies, but you were both too lost in ecstasy to even care, crying out eachothers names.

You collapsed on top of him completely, and it was then you noticed you couldn't see him at all, entirely invisible.

Catching your breath, you stared on in confusion, fleeing up his body but unable to see it.

“I-Izuku??”

No answer.

Had he passed out?

“Izu-?”

You’d feel around for a heart beat if he had one, but he didnt, no undead monster did.

Taking a deep breath, cheeks flushed and skin sweaty, you sat up, Izukus now flaccid cock pulling out with a wet pop, his cum immediately flowing messily down your thighs.

He mustve had a pretty fucking intense orgasm if the damn cock ring snapped. Who’s ever heard of that happening before? Certainly not you.

Given a minute, you uncuffed his invisible wrists and pulled the vibrator from his ass, turning it off and tossing it to the sheets.

Geeze.. what a mess…

Checking the time from your alarm clock, you were now 34 minutes late for the ghoultastic party being thrown in the school.

Oh well.

If Izuku was a human, you were sure he wouldve died from the blood loss by now, but being undead certainly gave more leeway for fun activities.

Sitting back, you gathered his spare blood on your fingers sucking them into your mouth and savouring his taste. God, you could get used to something this good.

It was like his blood had nicotine in it, you were instantly hooked.

By the time Izuku woke up, he was fully wiped down, dressed, and practically ready to go.

It was clear to him you had cleaned things up, but how long had he been out for?! How embarrassing! He even lost control of his invisibility! Ugh.. you must think he’s a toddler… only kids lose control!!

“You okay?” Your honey sweet voice caught his attention, eyes snapping to the other side of the room where you emerged from the bathroom.

“O-oh! (Y-Y/N).. I.. um.. I’m okay..” He felt so awkward now.. would you pretend nothing happened? Ignore him? Tell everyone he was.. a peeping tom?

He wanted to believe you were the nicest person out there but he was so terrified of you shunning him, even after such.. licentious activities.

Besides, he wasn’t entirely sure how to act right now, after having s-sex with you. He felt clammy and nervous.

“You look pale,” you chuckled, grasping his cheeks and pulling them so he’d be distracted.

You noticed that look in his eyes, and knew it well. Self doubt. You wouldnt accept that.

“Hahah… well, I am a ghost..“

Your lips pressed against his, for the thousandth ime that night, but he didnt mind.

Sighing out his nose, he relaxed into the innocent kiss with a small smile.

You cupped his face when you pulled away, admiring him.

“Hey.. your eyes are (e/c) again!” And just like that, his face lit up, “Well, I did have a nice dinner.” Your tone was playful, yet he couldnt help but burn with a fresh blush, rubbing at his neck where no doubt a bunch of bite marks laid.

“Quite a delicious one too,”

“(Y/N)!!”

Sitting down on his thighs, you wrapped your arms loosely around his shoulders, nuzzling your cheek against his, “How does your ass feel?”

“GAH!” He wrapped his arms around his head, leaning forward as practical steam came from his ears from how embarrassed he suddenly was. What a nice change of scenery.

“Hm?” He was clearly a virgin after all, you wanted to make sure he could walk.

“I-it’s… okay..”

Pecking his warm, freckled cheek, you hopped off him, diving into your closet again and pulling out a basic vampire costume, one you had purchased days before at a costume shop.

Izukus heart leaped in his chest, “You had.. the s-same idea as me?”

You nodded your head, easily slipping the attire on in front of the flushed boy, “I guess we can go as a goofy couple!”

He felt warm, so very, very warm. How you accepted him after catching his perverted act, he had no idea. All he knew was this warmth was something he wouldnt mind getting used to, monsters werent known for being warm, after all.

“Yeah.. that sounds nice.”

Here’s hoping no one spiked the punch.

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shoichee · 4 years

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omg cngrts on 100!!!! <3 u deserve it!!!! hii how are you??? ahaha hows genshin going for you?? also for ur milstone event, can i request kise ryota with prompt 19 or 20, i cant decide between the two, so ill leaave it to you!! <3 i hope youre doing well 💖💖💖💖

dhfiuseyghieaugh tysm ily reeeeee <33 been playing genshin nonstop to keep my sanity from my uni papers SEND HELP

Kise x Reader

19. “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me”

Word Count: 2851

prompt list here

Note: we need more manga Kise, i repeat, we need more asshole Kise

»»—————　☼　—————««

How could this happen? How could he, the veteran of receiving female attention, be so careless?

He only saw you as an intrigue. A challenge. Perhaps a friend at the very most.

How did this happen?

Kise slightly grits his teeth before he quickly exhales, bringing his hand to rub out the tension in his neck. His mood had not gone unnoticed by his fans around him.

Ah, shit.

“Ryōta!” one called out, her tone dripped in saccharine. “What’s wrong?”

“Have you been pushing yourself lately?” another one chimes in.

“I can come with you to the infirmary… surely you’d have trouble!—”

“Move—I asked first!”

“H-hey! Quit being so snappy—!”

“Stop.”

He instinctively sends a glare at the mob out of irritation but then stops himself to quickly etch a sweet smile of his own for them. No matter how much he hears these words of concern, he hears nothing but empty wind. Hanging around girls was supposed to be a fun pastime. A challenge. Nowadays, his mind doesn’t bother to register any of their names, their faces. All their voices that come out of their mouth have become constantly replayed recaps; their chatters have become equivalent to those of flocking pigeons. “Don’t worry, everyone! Basketball practice has just been tough, is all. You’re all so kind to worry for my health, though! Thank you!”

Squeals rang throughout the courtyard as they hung onto his every word. Predictable.

As he firmly separates himself away from the group and leaves off with a cheerful facade, he quickly turns around to make a break with a brisk walk. Where to, exactly? He doesn’t know, but anywhere that didn’t have people around would be godsend.

His mind always returns back to you. You, who he thought would be the cure to his social life, just as Aomine and Kuroko were to his life of sports. You, who respected his personal space. You, whom he had meaningful conversations with during breaks sometimes. You, who he felt like he can drop his facades around recently and just entirely be himself.

As cruel as it was, he once challenged himself to make you fall for him. A sick, twisted game that would cure his boredom and give him something to look forward to other than practice. Something to keep him on his toes throughout the beginning of high school. You, who wasn’t honestly that special, other than the fact you treated him differently, unlike other people. Hell, even the adults are wrapped around his finger. What’s not making you fall head over heels for him? His curiosity continues to grow exponentially the more he spends time with you; never once did it get satiated.

Was it his ego that you bruised up? Was it his competitiveness kicking in at the thought of experiencing a type of “defeat?” Was it the unsaid uncertainty in his heart that is currently panicking of the thought of entering a whole new territory with new emotions and thoughts?

There is nothing special about you. You were only a challenge. There is nothing special about you. Once he figures you out, your game, you would just be like everyone els—

“Ow!”

“Ah, sorry! My bad, my bad! Are you alright? I’ve been a tad dizzy lately, here let me help you, oh…” As he rambles in a slight fluster, he immediately jumps back into his chivalrous side, immediately clasping a hand to help them up. Expecting to see another faceless individual, his eyes widened when his mind registered a pair of eyes staring inquisitively at him. Your eyes.

“Are you the same Ryōta I know?” you stifle a laugh. “Since when were you so quick to ever help me out without complaining my ear off?” When they say his first name, it has always sounded off, sickening even. He still could not comprehend why he, despite hating the sound of his first name rolling off of people’s tongues, insisted on you using his first name. Strangely, whenever you call him out so sincerely, he couldn’t help but always jerk back in genuine surprise at how… nice it felt.

He only let you use his first name to force a sense of closeness. This was only to accelerate the forming of a bond between the two of you. Nothing more, nothing less. Nothing more than a challenge. Nothing more than an asset to accomplish it.

But every time he has had these thoughts lately, his heart spiked with painful palpitations.

How did this happen?

His swirling thoughts halt when he feels your hand against his forehead. “You said you were dizzy earlier, right?” you said worriedly. “You don’t seem sick… have you been eating properly?”

You were tippy-toeing to try to reach his height, one hand grasping his shoulder for support while the other was feeling his temperature. And oh, you were so close.

This was a game you were playing, too, right? You must’ve known this entanglement was all just a challenge and you wanted to play along for the fun of it, right? But these thoughts quickly cease as you separate yourself from him to give him the usual physical distance.

What sort of game were you playing? Tug-of-war? Cat-and-mouse chase? Two can play at that game.

“Hey…” he looms over your figure, leaning closer to your face. “Maybe you’re the one making me dizzy, after all?” His sharp eyes search for any subtle signs you give off: your facial expressions, body language, your reactions.

“What?” Your eyes widen at his abrupt advance, worried eyes quickly turning into one of confusion as you scan Kise’s face for any other subtle signs of his own.

There was no way you could have good intentions. There was no way you could have genuine concern for him. There was no way you would be hanging around with him, unless you had some ulterior motives of your own.

After all, he chose to get to know you for the most selfish reason. How could he ever bring himself to tell you that this precarious friendship you two shared was built on the premise of deceit on his end?

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “Just wanted to see your reaction.” And with that, he ruffles your hair playfully before he continues to walk to his intended destination of the school infirmary.

“You’re definitely sick!” you call out, rushing to catch up to him. “You’re acting really strange!...” Your voice—he wishes he could tune it out just as easily as the rest, but you were right… he was acting strange. He couldn’t believe he can distinguish your features from amidst a sea of people. Your voice amidst a clutter of noises. Your warmth amidst all the sunlight, clothing, and body heat he’s ever felt. The same warmth encapsulating his own hand.

What sort of game were you playing?

“Here! Follow me,” you said, tugging his hand forward as you take the initiative to lead him. “If you’re sick, you shouldn’t be walking around alone. What if you collapse?”

What sort of game were you playing?... Was having the most scrunched-up brows and worried eyes part of the rules? He tightens his lips into a thin line at the sensation of his heartbeats again.

As you tug along his hand and lead him down the hallway, his mind drifts to the moments you two have shared for the past few weeks. When you bumped into him and succinctly apologized before excusing yourself… when he approached you constantly every chance he got during breaks to figure you out… when he saw you efficiently defending yourself against his dedicated fans… when you first approached him after he exited the lockers to congratulate him on a home game win before you turned to Kasamatsu to talk of club affairs with the council… when he first heard you actively cheering his name on the stands… when you inopportunely saw him weeping about Kaijo’s loss at the Winter Cup and successfully comforted him…

With each progression in his thoughts, his hand suddenly feels warmer against yours, his heart rate thumping faster, his eyes growing more out of focus as he gazes at your back, and then your intertwined hands. Maybe he really is sick.

“Are you alright?” you asked, turning to face him as you both keep walking. “We’re just about here.”

He says nothing as he keeps his face straight ahead. He doesn't trust himself to keep it together after that slipup with his fans; messing up in front of you would be certainly disastrous.

“Is there anyone here?” you softly called out, tentatively sliding the doors open. There was no one, but they were probably on a lunch break before coming back soon. He hears you sigh before you tug him in completely into the room. “Sit here, and I’ll look for some ice packs, at least… I don’t know if that would work, though…”

As you let go of his hand to try to rummage through the drawers, his hand instinctively holds you tighter.

Shit.

“Ryōta?...” you said. “Do you wanna lay down instead, I’ll look for something for you to—”

“... (y/n)-cchi, stay here.”

Shit. Kasamatsu was right: he needs to learn how to shut his godamn mouth.

“Ryōta,” you shyly mumble. “That was the first time you addressed me with -cchi at the end. Don’t you only use it with your old teammates?”

Shit… shit, shit, shit.

He can’t slip up, and he’s fucking up three times in a row? He’s losing his edge. There’s no way he’ll lose now… not when he’s come so far.

“... Do you know what you’re doing?” he exhales, dropping your hand to run his hands through his locks. “You’re driving me insane…”

“Me?”

“What games are you playing here, I swear to god—there’s no reason for you to care this much for me like this—”

“I do have a reason,” you replied, averting your eyes to feign looking for those ice packs. There you go again, acting coy… that’s what he chants to himself anyways.

“Wha?~ You’re keeping secrets from your friend, already?” he coos, trying to gain back the momentum. Yes, that’s right…you are only considered a friend. “It’s kind of cruel to bring it up but then decide to not divulge them, y’know?”

“It doesn’t take much human decency to worry and care for another,” you smile. “Even more so for a friend.”

You finally turn away to continue hunting for anything useful in the cabinets, while Kise silently watches you from his chair. Silence settles between the two of you.

“Y’know… I’ve been thinking,” you start, handing him a glass of water, a wet towel, and ice packs. “I don’t want for us… to be friends anymore.”

It took his entire self control to not jump from his chair to grab you and interrogate you into oblivion. But why? Did you realize his true intentions? Did you hate his guts after all? Did you accomplish your own objectives and deem this friendship no longer useful?

Why does he even care about any of this?

“You’re… joking, right?”

He really expected for you to burst into laughter and call it a prank or tease him about his unfiltered reaction at your words, but your eyes have now become determined and very serious.

You weren’t joking.

“Ryōta, I’ll just get this out of the way first things first, but I know that you only see me as some type of trophy to go after… for a while now.”

How did this happen?

“It’s just the way you look at me sometimes seems off,” you said. “It’s not obvious to others, but we’ve spent almost every day with each other for a while, so I’ve kinda noticed… Honestly, that only solidified my initial impressions of you being a complete asshole.”

Why does his heart feel like it’s going to shatter?

“But…” you continued. “Recently, you were just… different. You were still stupid, sure. But you’ve laughed so much more and supported me when I needed it most. I’ve never laughed this hard until I met you—you make me wheeze out the ugliest laughs, as I’m ashamed to admit. But I want to be able to support you too… like, it feels that this whole thing you’re trying to put up when you meet with other people… it must be exhausting, right? I know you first acted that way with me. I can understand and kind of relate to that, so you can always talk to me alone if you need an ear.”

“Why are you telling me that you don’t want to be friends anymore?” Kise flatly asks. “You’re clearly correct about everything about me. You could’ve just left a long while ago. Did you have to pretend to care, too? Go ahead, aren’t you going to gossip about this to everyone?”

“What? No! I’m not done talking yet, idiot! I wasn’t pretending anything! Can you just stop projecting yourself onto me and listen up? Even though you’re such an asshole sometimes, er—all the time, the time we spent together has grown to be genuine, and I know you felt it too!... so well, I know you’ve heard these words so many times from other people, but…

I like you. That’s why I don’t want to be just your friend anymore. But I know you don’t reciprocate these back, so I just wanna tell you to get it off my chest… that’s all.”

He is absolutely stunned.

You’ve confessed to him, didn’t you? He got what he wanted. He won his little challenge. But why doesn’t he feel the adrenaline, the excitement, of it all like he normally would? His heart beated painfully erratically like how his team suffered a bittersweet loss at the games. Especially when you turned away to leave after you gauged his silence as rejection.

“(y/n)-cchi! W-wait!” He fumbles to grab for the warmth of your hand again. “You just confessed, right? Don’t you have to hear what I say?”

You simply shrug in response, but nonetheless, you turned back around to face him and await his response.

What you didn’t expect though was for him to pull you into a tight embrace and put his head on your shoulder. He pours his innermost thoughts and his emotions out, your shoulder slightly muffling his words, but you still understand everything he had spilled. He finally apologizes for everything he’s done, reassuring you that you don’t have to forgive him, though you kept telling him that it wasn’t that big of a deal. He finally breaks away from you and hangs his head low and exhales. He finally lifts his head to make eye contact with you. His eyes burn with intensity and the usual confidence he bears, although you note the tinge of nervousness behind his pupils.

How did this happen? How did he ever grow so attached to you? And since when did he grow mature enough to concede his defeat?

“I think I’m in love with you…” His words trail off, and his confidence disintegrates away when he realizes that he is no longer the receiving end of a confession.

… and that scares… the crap out of me.”

“You think you’re in love with me?” You stare at him incredulously. Kise squirms uncomfortably under your scrutiny. He’ll admit it, it was the lamest reply anyone could’ve given. You honestly deserved better.

His thoughts were interrupted when you suddenly guffawed and slapped your hands to your mouth to try to stifle your hysteria.

“Hey! I spilled my entire heart to you, don’t just laugh… damnit, hey! It’s not that funny!...” he protests, but after unsuccessfully trying to get you to stop snickering, he sulks back into his chair and huffs with the reddest face.

“Ah… A+ for honesty, at least,” you breathed out. “I thought you were gonna be eloquent about this, since you’re used to this sorta stuff and all…”

“Shut it.”

Kise buries his head into his hands, but you gently pry them off in an attempt to see his embarrassed state.

“Were you really actually sick, though?~”

“Shut uuuup, alreadyyy.”

“I inherited this personality from you, y’know.”

Huh, it seems that you really do know how to be coy, after all.

“Can you two please see yourselves out? The infirmary is not a place to hold your secret rendezvous, especially with this inappropriate behavior.”

“(y/n)-cchi, run!”

“I’m trying, I’m trying!”

In a hurry, Kise grabs hold of your hand and makes a break out the door, dragging you behind with the school nurse trailing far behind. Even if he suffered a loss once again, he still won the complete monopoly of you and your genuine care and warmth for him.

Was it really a loss, though? He doesn’t think much of it now that his head feels clear when he shares these moments with you.

He supposes he misjudged you when you were truly special after all. Déjà vu just hits him like a truck when he fondly thinks about his ex-mentor Kuroko, and how similar you are to him.

#knb #kuroko no basket #kise x reader #kise ryota #kise ryota x reader #kise ryouta #knb scenarios #knb fic #knb fics #100 followers #100 follower milestone

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