#but hey look at that smile! and the eye crinkles! and his ever present red bull drink!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovelybunn · 2 years

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𝐤𝐨𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐦𝐚 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.

word count: 2.2k

warning(?): hurt/comfort, swearing, suggestive(?)

author's note: i put a lot of effort into this post, (almost too much effort) so i hope you enjoy it!

what are his love languages?

𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐒.

if we’re talking about timeskip kenma, then it’s already established that he has money. and, of course, he loves spending said money on you.

one day you and your lovely boyfriend were strolling the streets of the city, and you spotted an article of clothing presented onto a mannequin that you thought was just your style. you looked up at the store’s name and frowned, instant realization hitting you like a bus. “i could never afford to dress like that.” kenma noticed the upset look on your face and took your hand in his, pulling you over to the nice looking restaraunt a few blocks down from the store you were ever-so glooming at. “aw babe, don’t worry about that, you dress fine now. let’s get some food, m’kay? i heard this place serves the best apple pie!” you shrugged, allowing him to take you wherever he wanted to go.

a month has passed, and you’re still thinking about that mannequin. you wonder if you could just buy some stuff from the nearest thrift shop and recreate the look yourself. yet, you doubt it would look half as good as the original designers’. from a distance, you hear kenma groan while stretching out his limbs. you turn around to see kenma’s hands hidden behind his back. a small grin tickles at his cheeks.

you pursed your lips. “what are you doing?” you look up and down at kenma as he slowly approaches you. he doesn’t respond until he’s standing right in front of you, then he finally reveals whatever was behind his back. a bag. it took you a second to recgonize the brand’s name, but as soon as you do, your face lights up with excitement.

“is that– is that what i think it is?” kenma shrugs, placing the bag at your feet. “you tell me.” unable to contain yourself, you rumagge through the bag, taking out everything inside. a candle with your favorite scent. some carmel chocolates. a gorgeous piece of shiny jewlery. then you finally saw it. “kenma?! you got this for me? i can’t believe it! i love it, you really shouldn’t have!” his smile grows even bigger, his under-eyes crinkle. “but i did, because i knew how happy it would make you.”

ㅤ

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

kenma’s constantly telling you that he loves you and showing you that he loves you. he consistently feels the need to be your hype man.

you curl up into a fetus position and take in a deep, shaky breath. your face has been stained with fresh, wet tears. it almost feels like you’ve been crying for an eternity, but your heart still felt heavy. “i don’t understand. what did i do to deserve this?” you rock yourself back and forth, sobbing silently. a light knock on your door alerts you, causing you to sit up and quickly wipe your eyes to cover up any evidence of your meltdown. “come in.” you mutter, not caring in the slightest if the other person could even hear you anyway.

apparently, they could, because soon the door was creaking open hesitantly. the person reveals to be your boyfriend, kozume kenma. he awkwardly gives you a small wave through the crack in the door as he slowly steps inside. “hey, (name). i heard someone crying. you okay?” you force a fake smile. “yeah, i’m fine! just kinda tired, is all.” kenma stares at you with a 'that’s utter bullshit' look in his eyes. he raises his eyebrow. “you’re lying. your eyes are literally red, babe.” you blush and look downward at your bedsheets. a giant lump in your throat made you feel like you were being choked from the inside. “ok… you caught me. i’m not okay. i feel like shit.”

kenma’s face flashes to worry and he swiftly goes to your side. he holds you close, rubbing gentle circles around your back. “i’m like the attracter of bad luck. no matter how hard i try, the universe is constantly shoving me back down to my lowest.” you sob into his chest. he kisses your forehead. “you’re not 'the attracter of bad luck', baby. you’re the best person i’ve ever met. you’re so persistent, it doesn’t matter what life throws at you, you always manage to push through. and i’ve never seen anyone put so much effort into the things they’re passionate about.”

you glance up at kenma, your lips quivering, “not even any of your volleyball friends?” kenma blinks once before shaking his head quickly, as if to dismiss the question. “this isn’t about them, (name), this is about you! don’t change the subject!” you giggle out a “sorry” before he continues. “you are so strong and beautiful, (name), don’t let this silly little low upset you. i know you can fight through, i believe you can.” he gives you a tiny butterfly kiss before adding, “i love you so much, (name). your my world. so, for me, try and love yourself more.”

little quirks he has / does.

𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐓.

when kenma wants something from you, he will quite literally stare at you for a hot moment till you turn to look back at him to ask “what?”

he tucks his hair behind his ear, his eyes averting away from you. “nothing. i just wanted ask if you wanted to go to the store with me.” kenma returns his intense gaze back to you. he shoves his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, “but you seem to be busy.” you raise your eyebrow, baffled at your boyfriend. “wha- kenma, i’m not busy, just give me a sec and i’ll be ready in a bit.”

he whipped around on his heels, finger-combing his hair up into a messy bun. “i’ll see you in the car, (name).” kenma slightly tilts his head around to face you again with a shit-eating grin on his face. “don’t be too long.” kenma looks back toward where he’s walking, grabbing his keys. he twirls the keys around his finger as you call, “with your hair looking like that?” he chuckles and shrugs, casually walking out the door without a care in the world.

ㅤ

𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆.

it's never intentional, but when you touch and/or massage him in certain places, he purrs like cat.

the two of you are curled up around each other on the couch on a rainy night. kenma yawns, adjusting himself in your lap. his head rests onto your chest. you smile down at your sleepy boyfriend then proceed to gently knead at his scalp. he hums, leaning into the touch. you snicker. “babe, did you just purr?”

your finger movement stops, which irritates him a little. in response, kenma grabs at your hand and places it back at the spot you were scratching. “yes, don’t question it.” he looks up at you with mild annoyance, his nose scrunched up tightly. “don’t stop unless i ask you to.” you shake your head and smile in understanding.

ㅤ

𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐊 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃.

when he's really tired, he'll sneak behind you and wrap his arms lazily around your waist and give little pecks on your neck, “let's go to sleep, babe. i'm exhausted...” “kenma, it's only three in the afternoon, we are not going to sleep right now.”

he trails small smooches from the end of your shoulder to the tip of your ear. when kenma makes it there, right up against your ear, he whispers, “what’s wrong with wanting to take a little cuddly nap with my pretty baby, hm?” you roll your eyes, gently pulling his arms off you. “if you're going to try and seduce me into going to bed with you, it’s not gonna work.” you try and get away, but he just pulls you in closer to him.

“come ooon, babe. just a short half-hour nap. anything you need to do now isn’t just gonna grow legs and run away when you’re not looking. take a break every once and a while (name). it’s good for you.” kenma’s thumbs knead at your tense hips. you slowly melt into his touch, finally giving in. “fine…” you whine, “but thirty minutes better not turn into three hours.” kenma kisses your neck once last time before dragging the two of you off to the bedroom, a pleased look plastered on his face.

things he likes to do with you.

𝐃𝐘𝐄 / 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑.

do not trust kozume kenma with your hair, he will experiment with it until all of it falls straight out of your scalp. for real though, he loves doing shit to your hair, it’s so fun for him.

the two of you giggle as kenma adds the finale touches to the tips of your hair. you guys had made a deal that if kenma had dyed his hair pink, he could do whatever he wanted with yours. the dude was suprisingly great at styling hair, he even did akane’s mass of curls at some point. “she was so tender headed, it almost made me want to pull her hair straight out of her head then act like it was an accident.” he says while carefully parting your hair. “kenma, i really like this shade! how’d you pick it out?” he smiles and fluffs out your hair, allowing you to admire his work. “i just thought it complimented your eyes.”

ㅤ

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐎 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒.

as a pro-gamer, playing on pc is exclusive (with the exceptions of the nintendo switch and ps5). he always asks you if you wanna play a new game with him that he had bought recently and tries to help teach you how to play.

“kenma, kenma! it’s literally right behind you, how can’t you see that?! run!!!” you shriek at the monitor, piercing your boyfriend’s poor ears. “oh my fucking god, (name), of course i can see it! i have to go over here to progress the damn game!!” kenma leaned in; you could feel his hot breath against your neck. you held your breath as kenma grabbed the object and quickly placed it in his inventory. the monster was just out of his vision. kenma noticed your tenseness and gave you a soft kiss on your neck. while he wasn’t looking the monster dashed toward his character and jumpscared him. it was cheap, so it didn’t scare either of you. you turned around in kenma’s lap to face him with a disappointed look on your face. he returned the expression. the glares melted into warm grins, soon into cackles of pure joy.

(this is ya’ll btw)

ㅤ

𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐄.

kenma’s taste in anime is impeccable, and he loves snuggling up with you to watch said shows.

you curl up into the sheets and arms of your boyfriend, soaking up all his warmth as the opening of his favorite anime fades out to start the episode. “i can’t wait to see how they animated this, the battle scene was so cool in the manga alone.” he snickers above your head; you glance up at him with your pointer against your pursed lips. “shh, don’t spoil! i’m sure it’ll be just as great as the rest of the earlier episodes.” he sighs, “okay..” he leans downward and kisses your bare forehead, turning up the volume. after a few pointless but funny scenes with the main characters, the battle that kenma was waiting for months for finally comes in view. he leans toward the tv, almost crushing you in the process to closer see the flawless smooth animation. you chuckle at your boyfriend’s infatuation, “you seem to be enjoying yourself, babe.” his eyes widen at you before he leans back, letting you sit back comfortably. “we need to stay up all night to finish this. this is incredible.”

ㅤ

𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂.

kenma has a spotify premium account that you two share, but he mostly uses it because he can’t function without music in his ears. he also has impeccable music taste, and he will recommend you songs and come up to you to be like “this song reminded me of you.” all the time.

you and kenma are sitting on a bench, holding hands with a earphone in opposite ears. kenma shyly glances over to you as the current song fades out, “hey, i wanted to show you something.” you tilt your head as he looks up something in his phone. when he finally finishes whatever he was doing, he hands you his phone. you take a quick peek at it then stare at kenma. “what is it, babe?” he subtly jerks his chin to point at his phone, nonverbally asking for you to take it without further question. his cheeks seemed to burn a bright red while you slowly take the phone out of his hand. you look down at the screen. it was a playlist titled ‘for the apple of my eye.’ the corners of your lips curl into a deep smile, and you turn back to your boyfriend. he seems to be focused at his hands. you gently take his clammy palms in yours and make him look back up at you. you start the playlist, “kenma, this is so sweet. you're so good to me, babe.” he tucks a chunk of his hair behind his ear and licks his lips. “i’m glad you like it.” he stutters. “these are my favorite songs, and they always make me think of you, my favorite person.” his under-eyes crinkle as a huge grin grows onto his face. even in the little things, kenma is caring and loving of you, and you're so lucky to have him.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #kozume kenma #kozume kenma x you #kozume kenma x reader #kozume kenma x y/n #headcanons #drabble #drabbles #haikyuu imagines #imagines #blurbs

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flower-seeks-the-moon · 4 months

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Tender

My entry for the Hey Sweetheart, 2024 challenge on @ficwip. Also posted on AO3.

Your hands, your hands,

Fall upon mine as waves upon the sands.

O, soft as moonlight on the evening rose,

That but to moonlight will its sweet unclose,

Your hands, your hands,

Fall upon mine, and my hands open as

That evening primrose opens when the hot hours pass.

— John Frederick Freedman, Hands

For all that he teases her about how well he knows her, Wisteria wonders if he has any inkling of just how much everything comes into sharper focus for her when he enters any room.

He’s not the only observant one, between the two of them.

“Darling.” His thumb rubs circles on the back of her hand, a gesture as familiar as breathing after the countless times he’s done so. “You’ve been deep in thought for a while. Care to spare your lover a moment to share what’s on your mind?”

She looks at him, drawn from her absent staring at the expanse of the park he’s taken her to.

In the splendor of autumn, deep within the golden boughs and quaint streets of his hometown, she can see how well the season suits him. Despite his initial unease at returning to Golden Grove, Baxter seems to be holding up pretty well, an unspoken weight lifting off his shoulders as he takes in the - in his own words - largely unchanged streets and the woods that surround them. His eyes are soft as ever when they glance over at her, a familiar deep brown that keeps her grounded.

Her mind wanders down odd paths and tends to float away from the present, like the pale clouds that her own eyes are reminiscent of. Her friends have always teased her that one day she might float too far out of reach for any of them - in fact, she has almost done so, the year that she silenced herself for fear of being a burden on Terry, Miranda, and Cove.

And yet, Wisteria realizes, that same wandering cloud always has a place to come home to. It’s the deep earth and ancient heartwood that her heart sings for, as a small bird coming home to roost on the tall branches of an old oak tree.

“You,” she replies, fingers entwining tighter with his. “I’m thinking about you.”

I think a worryingly large amount about you. Of your hands, of your eyes, of the way your smile feels more tangible instead of dreamlike when you look at me. I wonder why you’re so fascinated with me, when you’re much more interesting.

But Terry told me that it’s normal to think that much about people that you love.

She has noted long before how easily some of her statements can make him flush, for all that she didn’t mean to do it. Wisteria watches with no small amount of interest at the red that creeps over his cheeks. It’s a mystery to her how he seems so surprised at times when she’s always been direct about her affections.

One day, she hopes that Baxter Ward will no longer be so startled at the notion of how he’s wanted.

To his credit, he recovers in record time. With a crooked grin on his face, he tugs her closer. She scoots across the park bench, heart skipping a beat (or several) when his fingers hold her chin in place to tilt it up.

“Only good things on your mind, I hope?”

She crinkles her nose up at him but doesn’t deny it, making him chuckle under his breath. “Just thinking about how your hands sometimes tell me more than your words, you smooth operator.”

He stills against her as she blinks up at him. “Oh? And pray tell, what do they tell you?”

And you call my stare intense?

One of the things she appreciates about him is how long he’ll wait, for her to articulate her thoughts. Back in the summer of their youth, she’d been an impulsive teenager, but her words have become more spare as the years have passed. The confidence with which she says her ‘blunt’ statements is now reserved only for the closest of friends and family.

It’s one of the things that comes with adulthood, she supposes. Rarer smiles, rarer words; she doesn’t want to be too much, cramming herself into something more easily digestible. But Baxter doesn’t want it easy , he wants her.

She has to remind herself of that, sometimes; if she doesn’t, Baxter will make sure she doesn’t forget.

Guess we’ll have to keep reminding each other.

A few beats pass between them. Yet despite the force of his gaze, she never feels threatened. And so she speaks. “When you’re nervous, your hands do this.”

Wisteria copies the gesture with his thumb, keeping her attention solely on his face. The way his breath wavers as the pad of her thumb circles on his skin makes her swallow.

“Indeed?”

She nods, looking down at their joined hands, the way his long, tapered digits seem to dwarf hers. “It comforts you. I’m… glad.”

That she could be a comfort to him in times like this.

It’s not dissimilar to the way she clutches the straps of her messenger bags, and plays with them, whenever something makes her antsy. He’s been holding her hand almost the entire time they returned to Golden Grove. On the flight - business class, because this is Baxter she’s talking about — more and more of his subtle gestures that scream I need comfort started up.

This is a trip they’ve been planning for weeks. It took her moving back closer to her childhood home for him to admit, over dinner, how he wonders from time to time about his old friends.

And so, come a time when their schedules could both afford a small vacation, Baxter Ward takes her to see his town.

A homecoming, after all the years that he’s spent running from the people he’s left hanging. After he reunited with her earlier last year, Wisteria’s a witness to the careful — always so careful, and a little afraid, but he’s trying and I’m so proud — overtures he’s made towards her friends and family. The people in Sunset Bird, who he left confused and maybe a little saddened, after the summer he left.

I was the saddest, she thinks to herself, once the fury that turned my vision red had cleared. But you were all alone, while I had-

Baxter drags a hand through his fringe, pulling her back from memory lane. A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth at the gesture. “And when you’re unsure of what to say, you do that.” She laughs under her breath at the narrowing of his eyes. “Or the way you run your fingers along the edges of your clothes, or tug at your collar.”

“You do know everything, don’t you?” His voice is far too light for the simmering heat in his stare. She knows what this entails.

It makes her heart pound, but as he told her before, more than once: Wisteria’s always been attracted to a roguish man. And she brings out that side of Baxter, easy as dancing is to him.

“I watch you, a lot.” She mutters, distraction coming in the form of his arm now encircling her waist. His hand is warm, even through the layers of her clothing, dressed as she is for the season. “Does that bother you?”

“Oh, Ria.” Laughing low in his throat, Baxter’s free hand tugs at the length of her braid. If she doesn’t watch out, she knows that he’ll undo it, fond as he is of the ink-black strands. “Surely, you know me better than that. We’re rather in the same position. I watch you a lot, too.”

It’s rather unfair, she thinks, how quick he is to rob her of her breath with just one look. When she eyes him, wordless, he pulls her onto his lap. Public park be damned, it seems. He meant to show her the place where he used to ride a bike, carefree as a child, with his younger friends and the ballet dancer who first caught his heart. She’s always been curious about Qiu Lin, and the way Baxter spoke of their love for their neighbor.

That’s always the thing with Baxter Ward, isn’t it?

He has a way of spinning the simplest of childhood memories into something out of a romance novel, even if he’s only the observer and not the participant.

This is the furthest thing from her mind now that he has her astride his long legs.

“When you’re this quiet,” he breathes, smile all wicked and face bright. “And uncertain of what to say next, you’ll avoid my eyes and pinch your brow - like so.” She does exactly that, making him laugh. As his chest rumbles, she grabs his shoulders, digging her fingers into the fine fabric of his turtleneck.

His lips crush against hers, and she sighs into his mouth. By the time they part for air, she's holding on to the front of his clothes like it's a lifeline and she, a drowning woman.

As always, he’s happy to let her be as rough as she ends up being with his clothes. The indulgent smirk on his face makes her want to act up.

Wisteria glowers at the dark material when she realizes how it covers his throat. “Right.”

Only to stop short when he speaks, voice low in her ear. “And you’ll stare at the birthmark on my neck like it holds all the answers to your questions. Hmm?” He cups the back of her head as she ducks, the fabric of his sweater a shield between her burning face and the rest of the world. She sits still against him; the rest of the world fades around them, until all that she can sense is the hammering of his pulse, the spice of his floral fragrance, and the comforting warmth he gives off.

So fucking distracting.

And she nods against him, not trusting the right words to come to her.

Baxter hums in satisfaction; she can imagine his face as he tilts his head. Pretending at his effortless nonchalance, even as his heart jackhammers much like hers.

“Thought so.”

This incorrigible man. He’s lucky he’s so damn cute.

He doesn’t let up. As his hands wander down her sides to rest on her hips, she feels his lips move against her skin.

Once she looks up, he pounces.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, well aware of how flushed the tips of her ears are. “Have I told you how much comfort you bring me, when I long to run from the things that frighten me so? You have quite the power over me, impossible little siren.” He leans in, letting his teeth catch her bottom lip, making her breath stutter. And then there’s that undeniable smirk she feels as he sighs. “It once vexed me, but I must confess: I am utterly besotted with the way you distract me.”

With how hard her fingers dig into his clothes, she’s almost worried she’d tear them up. And yet she suspects she won’t be entirely apologetic about it.

“… Good,” she exhales against him, their breaths mingling. A bracing warmth against the chill of autumn. Wisteria supposes she’ll never have to worry about being cold, when he’s a living furnace. “I guess you knew, huh.”

“You are worried for me, I am aware.” He presses a kiss, light as a butterfly, on the tip of her nose. “You’re very sweet, you know?”

She cocks her head, then demurs. “You’re sweeter.”

It doesn’t even bear much thinking, the words just tumble out. She adds, “But yeah. You were holding on to me quite a lot on the flight.” And even now, his hands never quite leave her, always resting on her back. If his arm isn’t already around her waist, or her fingers entwined with his. Baxter is a very tactile person, she’s long realized, even when they were younger. “You look like you’re feeling better now, though.”

“Hm, I wonder why.” He shares a dry look with her. “But I am doing rather well now, I must admit. This place feels smaller now.” The latter words are almost too low for her to hear. “To think that I once circled these same paths with a bicycle, with them…”

Leaning back, she takes in the view once again. It’s an alien view, for she’s never really left the seaside even when she moved out of her mother’s home and found her own place. As a few stray leaves blow across the pavement, she admires their colors. They’re all pretty shades that she’s more familiar identifying with a sunset across the horizon, shining over a boundless expanse of rippling water.

The dark-haired man below her, his eyes like molten honey, further completes the picturesque place.

“This is a nice place to play in.”

She tries to imagine it: young Baxter, cheeks fuller and small face bright as he puts foot to pedal, zipping past this bench. His friends’ laughter, high-pitched and childish. Would he laugh openly, to join in with the other children? Wisteria stifles a chuckle, and decides that he’s closer to smirking his amusement.

“What are you smiling about, I wonder?” He tugs her back against him, not that she ever left his lap. When her eyes flicker back to his face, he raises a brow.

Returning his look, she lifts her shoulder in one careless shrug. Might as well explain her thoughts to Mister Curious. “Just trying to imagine a kid — you on a bike, racing your buddies. I bet it was all black and white, and your helmet all fancy.”

Baxter snorts, briefly covering his mouth. “You’re correct in that assumption. I was no racer, however. Such exploits were more the territory of Autumn and Renee.” Hmm, she supposes not, remembering his words about how proper he was expected to be. As he looks down at her, his cheek dimples as he grins. “Much like you are no surfer, despite your proximity to the Holdens.”

“You and Cove are never going to let me forget how I fell off that surfboard, aren’t you?”

Well. It was only last summer, so it’d be pretty hard to forget. What she didn’t anticipate was how the two men would join forces to poke fun at her. Traitors.

He has the audacity to chortle. “No,” he sing-songs the answer, though he wraps his arms tightly around her waist. “I was a tad worried, however, before I remembered that you know how to swim much better than I do. Had I been there with you, perhaps I would have caught you, much the same way I came to your rescue across that log on our hike.”

“Oh no,” she intones, mock-serious. “Whatever shall I do, without you? Freshwater and saltwater, I’ve got so many choices to take a deep dive in, here.”

His answer is a full-bodied laugh. Throwing his head back, he leans against the back of the bench and jostles her on his legs. He’s quick to steady her, though his laughter doesn’t subside. A few of the most adorable snorts she's ever heard intersperse between his giggles.

Wisteria once again wonders if she’s this good at comedy, or if Baxter is just easy to please.

And then she promptly decides she doesn’t care; it’s wonderful; to hear him so unrestrained is a gift. She cups his face in her palms, leaning in enraptured, soaking up his joy. Unfiltered, his laughter is something she ought to bottle up and save for a rainy day. It's hot peppermint tea with just the right spoonful of honey, drunk before a roaring fireplace, shared with the one who holds her heart in his hands.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” she scoffs, lowering her lashes and pretending to think. “Remember that time you clung to me when the tiniest crab ran over your foot? I think you need me more than I need you.”

Baxter just bares his teeth at her, unrepentant and warm and all hers. He reaches up and engulfs her hands in his. “That’s all true, Wisteria. I implore you, do continue to be my valiant protector against the horrors which lurk in the sea.”

“Nah, you can just borrow Cove for that.”

“I doubt Derek would appreciate me taking away his boyfriend when I already have you here.”

A third voice rings out, interrupting her would-be retort.

“Looking really comfortable there, Baxter Ward.”

Neither of them is the type to jump apart, even caught like this. She simply turns enough to watch the stranger - to her, at least - sidling up the path. Her brows rise, appreciative, at the tousled deep red hair and freckled, elfin face. Now this is one pretty lady.

She arches a brow at her partner, the urge to tease returning full-force. “Say, Baxter. How did you have a crush on Autumn, when your other friend’s this pretty?”

The pretty lady blinks, owlish, at her; her cheeks turn pink even as she smiles politely. “You’re not what I expected. Wisteria, was it? I think we’ll get along pretty well.”

She feels a deep sigh against her. Baxter’s chest heaves, dramatic as ever, as he grasps the front of his shirt with his palm. “I did not come here to reunite with my friends, only for my partner to be stolen away from me.”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” she scoffs, even as she hears his friend snicker. So much for dignified first impressions, they're already a pair of clowns in front of his childhood friends. “I was only questioning your taste as a thirteen-year-old.”

“Ah, but you slander yourself. You were my next crush, as a fourteen-year-old.”

Goddamn it. He has a point there.

“Autumn would be interested to hear more about that, once they get here.” Renee inserts herself into the conversation, pinning her childhood bestfriend with her stare. “They’ll be here pretty soon, with their girlfriend and Tamarack.”

“That’s wonderful.” He coughs, tilting his head to meet Renee Murray’s eyes. And she can see it: the uncertainty tensing his features, in the split-second before it passes and the distant smile that hurts her comes to the fore. "I see that life has treated you quite well."

She sucks in a breath and pokes his cheek hard, making him drop the act.

It’ll take a while for him to get past his initial, instinctive reaction to pull away . Not when there’s still guilt weighing down on his shoulders for the friends he abandoned; as she hears it, he was… unavailable at a time when they needed him most.

‘I was caught up in my own self-loathing, but the way I utterly forgot about their struggles was unforgivable in my eyes.'

Baxter makes an aborted motion to hold on to her, when she scrambles off his lap. She silences his worry with a quelling look, holding her hand out to him once she’s straightened up. The fragility of his smile has never been clearer, except for these moments, and she swears to protect it in any way possible.

For all that he’s afraid of facing his friends, he’s fearless when it comes to showing his affection for her. There is no hesitation when he places his hand — and his trust — in hers, squeezing her tight before he stands.

Feeling Renee Murray’s attention on her, she turns and observes her. She sees a firmness on this woman’s face as she approaches her old childhood friend, only to turn to Wisteria. And then, it softens when their gazes meet, and her lips curve up in response. There’s no resentment in those eyes, she can tell that much.

A good sign, perhaps. These are the people who saw Baxter in his childhood, who were there for him as much as he allowed them to be, back when he was a ‘stuck-up’ boy.

Wisteria very much wants him to reclaim a piece of his boyhood, stolen from him by the years of dismissing his place within this town.

His fingers tighten around hers, once more, the pad of his thumb running across her skin. A wordless thanks.

“Renee,” her love, faltering yet so brave, begins to take the first step back towards his friends. “It’s been quite some time since I last saw you.” He takes a fortifying breath, and continues. “Thank you for accepting my email.”

A sudden wind rustles the fallen leaves at their feet, nipping at their noses and cheeks and heralding the coming of changes that are a long time coming. She takes a look upwards, lifting her free hand to capture a golden leaf out of the air. As the two friends reunite, Wisteria presses her lips to this little incarnation of fall.

Please let him be alright.

She opens her palm and lets the breeze take it away, carrying all her wishes for the years ahead. Healing, for the man beside her; more kisses shared underneath this same sky, throughout all the seasons. Spring, summer, autumn, and winter. Him, surrounded by all their loved ones and flourishing like a tree soaking up a gentle rain.

The worst has come to pass, and here they are now. Though all things may end at some point, there are countless little ways to begin anew.

From here, there’s nowhere to go but up.

#hey sweetheart #ficwip #our life: beginnings & always #olba #baxter ward #fanfiction #happy valentines!#luna's fics #baxter ward x mc

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weidao-sannim · 2 years

Text

FALLEN STAR

CHAPTER 1

Purple eyes gaze at the boy longingly. The young angel walks along the long corridor wrapping around the beautiful atrium as he watches the silver-haired boy move from a patch of flowers to a stone bench. Remaining behind the glassed-in corridor and in the shadows, the angel observes the boy. Watching every move the boy makes intently, the angel tilts his head to one side as he gazes at the star tenderly.

He longs to meet the boy. He longs to hear his voice intimately, to hold him, to take in every aspect of the boy. But his duties keep him in the shadows, forever protecting him from afar. Oh, how he longs to see his smile up close. His observation of the small star is interrupted when a voice calls, "Hey, Kilo!"

The angel instantly whips around and places his finger on his lips, warning the approaching lieutenant to be quiet.

"Sorry," Lennox apologizes as he reaches his comrade. "What is he doing?"

Kilo and the lieutenant look back into the atrium to see the star playing with a butterfly.

"Do you need something?" Kilo asks in a low voice. He has never been the fondest of speaking.

"Oh, yeah. We need you to help escort an ambassador from Earth."

"Why is an ambassador from Earth in Ithyos?" Kilo crinkles his brows. Ithyos is not a trading city nor a center for defense. The only thing remotely important in Ithyos is its star. "What's going on?" Kilo becomes tense as he grows suspicious. Ambassadors hardly ever mingle with young stars.

"We're not sure. Our COs (commanding officers) wouldn't tell us anything. I figured you should come, though, since you are-" The lieutenant is cut off when Kilo begins walking towards the space station where the ambassador will be entering Ithyos. "Yeeaah, okay, I guess you're going," Lennox sighs as he begins following his fellow lieutenant down the hallway and out of the residence.

Kilo hates to leave the star alone, but he needs to find out what this ambassador needs in Ithyos. Little does he know that a certain someone is waiting for this moment: waiting for Kilo to leave his star.

"Lieutenant Kilo," a golden-haired angel greets the young lieutenant.

"Commander," Kilo salutes respectfully as he and Lennox arrive at the space station.

"Thank you for joining us. I know you wish to be present at all things regarding Ithyos' star."

"Yes, sir."

The commander nods in approval at the young lieutenant's determination to protect his star. Kilo and his comrade wait patiently for the ambassador to appear through the gate of arrivals. The officers awaiting the esteemed guest immediately straighten their backs and stand with their left arm bent at the elbow behind their back while their right is stationed against their abdomen, fisted rigidly.

As soon as the figure of the ambassador appears around the corner, a rapid beeping sounds, breaking Kilo's stiff stance. The angel brings his left wrist up to see the notification sounding from his device.

"No," Kilo says breathily. Fear consumes him as he sees the distress signal from the star pulsing red.

"What is it?" Lennox inquires.

Without a word, Kilo leaves his duties and begins sprinting through the space station. He can hear Lennox and his CO calling after him and warning him of the consequences, but Kilo keeps running. Once a request has been accepted, there is no going back. Your word has been given. But Kilo is ready to give it all if it means he can save the star. And he will.

✨✨✨✨

"Daydreaming again?" A voice asks.

"Hmm?" Castyr looks around the garden as a man steps out from behind a tree. "Who are-"

"I am Marc, a humble traveler," the man answers quickly, a little too quickly.

"Oh," Castyr blinks his big, deep-blue eyes and continues looking at the flowers. Castyr is unused to visitors, so he does not know how he should react. Should he show his excitement at meeting a new person? Or should he keep his cool? The latter is chosen. He does not want to scare his new visitor when they have just met.

"You are?"

"Castyr," the boy answers bluntly.

"Are you the star of this region?"

The boy nods.

"Do you stay in here most of the time?"

Castyr nods.

"Would you like to go somewhere?"

This grabs the boy's attention. He sits up and looks at the man. It is not often that he gets to venture out.

A smirk appears on the man's lips. "I have business on Earth and happen to have an extra ticket. Would you like to come along?" The man sets his trap.

The innocent boy nods excitedly. "When do you leave?"

"We can go now. The craft is ready."

The boy nods happily and jumps to his feet. As soon as the boy reaches Marc, the man covers the boy with a cape to hide his glow.

"What is this for?" The boy asks.

"It is winter on Earth. It'll be cold," the man lies as he pulls the hood over the boy's head.

The boy naively follows the traveler out of the garden. The man leads the boy out of the star's residence, through the city, and into the space station. The duo weaves through the sea of travelers as the man lures the innocent star to a private branch in the station where a private space craft is docked, where smugglers and wanted men await the star.

"So what business do you have on Earth?" The boy asks as they leave the public sector of the station, his voice a little deeper than normal. Castyr may be innocent, but he is not dumb. Luckily, the boy caught the sly smile the man gave when he pulled the hood over his head.

"I am a trader. I have an exchange with a merchant on Earth."

"What do you trade?" The boy nonchalantly presses the 'distress' button on the bracelet around his wrist.Please come. Castyr is aware that he has guards who watch over him and is praying that they can save him from his dangerous love of adventure.So this is why they teach you 'stranger danger.'

"Oh, just some valuable goods." The man's sensitive ears hear the activation of the bracelet. He whips around, startling the boy. Castyr gasps as the man rips the bracelet off his wrist and throws it on the ground. In the next second, the man grabs the boy and begins dragging him towards the craft.

"HELP! HE-" The boy's mouth is covered, stopping his cry for help.

"They said you were too young to know!" The kidnapper growls.

Castyr sinks his teeth into his captor's hand, drawing a cry of pain from the man. Castyr immediately begins struggling with the man only to get a strike to the face. The pain stuns Castyr. He has never felt pain like this. The most he has ever felt is from accidentally pricking his finger on a thorny flower. This pain is new and cruel. Castyr fights the tears naturally filling his eyes as he tries to get free from Marc.

Marc tightens his hold around Castyr as he drags him towards the craft. The boy watches helplessly as the craft grows nearer and nearer. Just as his hope of rescue begins to fade away, a bullet shoots through the man's leg as they reach the craft. The door to the craft opens as a young angel rushes into the hangar. The boy struggles free from the man and immediately starts toward the hangar entrance.

"Get the kid!" The injured man commands. Four smugglers exit the craft and begin chasing the star.

"Castyr!" Kilo calls the star.

The star looks up at the angel as a smuggler grabs him. Kilo fires at the advancing smugglers as the star struggles with his captor.

Meanwhile, the injured man crawls into the craft. "Start the engines!" He orders the pilot.

"Help!" Castyr pleads as he is brought to the craft.

Kilo hears the star's plea but cries out as he is shot in the shoulder. He finally is able to fight through his attackers as the star is thrown into the craft.

"Restrain him!"

The boy is held down as the door begins to close and the craft disembarks from the branch. The angel runs and leaps off the edge of the branch. Midair, he draws his sword and stabs it into the side of the craft. The angel uses that force to swing his body up, pulling his sword out as he lands on top of the craft. As soon as his feet hit the metal exterior, Kilo plunges his sword through the roof.

"He's going to tear the craft apart!"

"Blow it! Kill the star!" Marc shouts. He would rather kill both himself and the star than return empty handed.

A bomb is set as the angel slashes a hole in the craft. He draws his gun and shoots the captors holding Castyr with expert aim. By this time, the craft has left the station and is approaching the vast void of space.

Kilo reaches his arm down after tossing the gun aside. The star grabs the angel's hand and is effortlessly pulled through the hole. Kilo catches Castyr in his arms as he kicks off from the craft. The bomb explodes, and the angel covers the star with his body.

Knocked unconscious, the angel and star fall from the Heavens to adventures and dangers unknown.

💠💠💠

Thanks so much for reading! If you liked this chapter, please consider giving it a heart Feel free to comment your thoughts/reactions 💙

I'd love to hear from you! If you have any questions about any of the characters or what is happening in the plot, please drop them in the comments below 💙 I will try my best to answer them ASAP 💙

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tobesolonely · 3 years

Text

grammy night

A/n: like most of you, watching harry perform WS did something to me. i rushed to my computer to write this IMMEDIATELY... not proofread but i hope u all enjoy nonetheless! Thanks @nationalharryleague for looking this over and hyping me up.

summary: y/n wants to show her grammy winning boyfriend just how proud she is of him💕

warnings: smut, mentions of the pandemic!

word count: ~3k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You decided that “Harry Styles, Grammy-nominated artist!” had a lovely ring to it.

Harry knew how proud you were of him; you had been making it known to him in the days leading up to his big night. You fretted over him more than you usually did, showered him in an obnoxious amount of compliments, and were the most intimate you’d ever been with him–– but who was he to complain?

Obviously, he knew you could care less whether he won or lost, and quite frankly, he didn’t care either. Just being able to perform at the Grammy’s, much less open it, was the opportunity of a lifetime. The fact that he was hitting such a big professional milestone with you by his side just made it that much better. You were both buzzing.

It had been months since Harry had performed. You knew how much he missed being in front of a live audience and hearing people scream his name, conceited as he was. He had been spending so much time rehearsing the one song he was performing, wanting it to be absolutely perfect. Your boyfriend was a perfectionist, after all! If he was going to do something, he either did it one hundred and ten percent, or he didn’t do it at all.

Although you were used to your boyfriend’s pre-performance jitters, it still wasn’t an easy sight to see. He would pace so much that beads of sweat would collect in his hairline; he’d shake, tremble, and have to be reminded to breathe. You’d think after ten years of doing this he would be a pro, but he was only human, after all.

“Been so long since I performed in front of people,” Harry muttered to you, examining his reflection in his make-shift dressing room. “‘M nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous,” you reply, coming up behind him to rub his shoulders. He shoots you a look in the mirror. “I know it’s easier said than done but you have nothing to worry about. It’s “Watermelon Sugar” honey–– you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’ve performed this one dozens of times.”

“Things are jus’ so different now,” his voice drops an octave. “What if people are tired of the song?”

“I don’t think people are tired of the song.”

“It played on the radio a lot. Came out in 2019––”

“...And you’ve been busy with other things. No one’s gonna be upset that you haven’t released new music in the middle of a pandemic H, I promise you.”

Harry’s gaze meets yours again in the mirror briefly before he tilts his head back, silently asking for a kiss. You plant one on his lips before grabbing a tissue from a small table beside him, dabbing at his hairline.

“Stop sweating everything off, Harry,” you playfully scold your boyfriend. “Make-up artist has already been by to touch you up three times already, she’s probably running out of product.”

Your boyfriend lightly chuckles at this, causing you to smile. “I’ll just tell my body to cut it out. How’s tha’ sound?”

“Sounds good,” you reply, leaning down to kiss his nose. “You alright?”

You notice Harry deeply inhale. “I think so. How do I look?”

“Like a Grammy-nominated, soon-to-be Grammy-winning, artist.”

Harry’s skin flushes. “Stop it…” The sound of three short knocks on the door of his dressing room causes panic to flood his features.

“Hey, look at me,” you gently grab your boyfriend’s chin, turning his gaze up towards yours. “It’s my job to believe in you when you don’t believe in yourself. If you get nervous just know I’ll be sitting as close to the stage as they’ll let me.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Now, go make me proud.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Breathe me in, breathe me out…”

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought Harry’s nerves in his dressing room were all theatrics. He was so in his element on stage, you were one hundred percent sure no one knew he was so nervous twenty minutes prior that he was turning green. He kept looking out into the small crowd, searching for you, and flashing you a dimpled grin once he did.

You were enjoying watching him prance around the stage while trying to keep up with the band on stage, looking a bit too proud of himself when he was able to stay on the beat while rhythmically snapping his hips along to the song. As the song came to an end and the dimmed lights started coming back on, you were led back to Harry’s dressing room by one of his guards as you heard the next performer being introduced.

“How did I do?” Harry asks loudly, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

His voice causes you to jump. “You scared the shit out of me! How’d you get off stage so quickly?”

Harry grabs your arm and pulls you off the couch, wrapping you in a tight, sweaty hug. “Don’t know. I basically ran to ya.”

“You did incredibly,” you tell him, lips ghosting over his. “Just like I knew you would. I don’t wanna say you were nervous for nothing, but you kinda were.”

“Don’t wanna hear your teasin’.”

“Did you see how everyone was looking at you?”

“I only saw how you were lookin’ at me. I was only lookin’ at you.”

Your body heats up at Harry’s admission, causing you to look away. “You’re so cheesy, H.”

“I think I would’ve been about fifty times more nervous if you weren’t here with me,” he presses his nose against yours. “Thank you for bein’ here, Y/N. You make this whole thing so much more doable.” Harry places one… two… three wet kisses to your cheek before pulling away, walking back over to close the door he left open during his excitement to re-join you.

“Changing?”

“Yeah,” Harry turns to look at you as he pulls off his jacket. The sight of his bare chest causes you to thickly swallow. “‘M gonna put what I was wearin’ on the red carpet back on. We’re gonna move outside.”

You simply hum in response to what Harry said, sitting back on the couch to scroll through your phone as you wait for him to finish changing. Everyone was congratulating Harry on his performance and wishing him luck on his nominations. You read all the good luck texts for him that were sent to you out loud, watching as his smile grows bigger and bigger from all the love he was being showered in.

After helping Harry powder his T-zone you let him lead you out of the small room and out into an area with spaced-out circular tables, most of them with just two or three seats at them. The Grammy’s in the middle of a pandemic was unlike anything you had ever seen before, and you were pleasantly surprised at how smoothly things were running. Jeff is already sat at the table when you and Harry join him and you can visibly see him let out the breath he was holding.

“Your boyfriend ran off stage so quickly I thought I was gonna have to set up a search party to find him,” Jeff tells you, a slight hint of annoyance present in his voice. He then turns to Harry and says, “Fix your mask, please.”

“It is fixed,” Harry grumbles but adjusts it nonetheless, causing you to giggle.

Even though it was obvious your boyfriend was enjoying himself, you could still tell he was extremely nervous the closer it became to announcing the winner of the category he was nominated in. His grip on your thigh kept growing tighter and tighter and although you didn’t hate it, you worried he might cut off your circulation soon if he didn’t let go of you soon.

“H, take a deep breath,” you lean over to whisper in his ear. “You’re gonna make my thigh fall off.”

“Sorry, love,” if you could see his mouth under his mask, you’d see him biting his plump lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my fuckin’ life.”

“Never?”

“Have I?”

“I dunno. I’m asking you.”

You see Harry’s eyes crinkle. “Maybe when I asked you out for the first time.”

“You are seriously so cheesy.”

Harry doesn’t respond, just takes your hand in his and directs his attention back to the stage. His palm is sweaty in yours but you don’t release his grip on your hand, wanting to offer him as much comfort as you possibly could.

When they start naming the nominees for Best Pop Solo Performance, you literally have to remind Harry to control his breathing. Although he won’t be upset if he doesn’t win, you know it would still mean quite a bit to him if he did.

“And the winner for Best Pop Solo Performance is… Harry Styles!”

Your mouth falls open in shock as you turn to fully face your boyfriend who was looking down at your intertwined hands, eyes wide in surprise. He genuinely wasn’t expecting to win and that made this victory that much sweeter.

“Harry!” You yell to be heard above the cheers and applause of his colleagues in the crowd. Jeff stands and grabs Harry’s hand, pulling him out of his seat and into a tight hug. You stand up and clap loudly in admiration for your boyfriend, willing the tears not to fall from your eyes. He removes himself from Jeff and pulls you into him, your head pressed against his chest.

“I won a fuckin’ Grammy!” Harry shouts.

“I know!” You shout back, probably more excited than he was. “Get up there!”

Your boyfriend quickly removes his mask and hands it to you before hurrying to the makeshift stage, hugging the presenter before touching his Grammy in awe. He picks it up and then slowly sets it back down, shaking his head in disbelief.

“To everyone who made this record with me, thank you so much…”

You can’t stop the few tears that spill over your waterline–– you were so unbelievably proud of him. You’re not even paying attention to his acceptance speech as you’re too preoccupied with looking at everyone staring at your boyfriend in admiration.

“Lastly, I want to thank my girlfriend who’s sitting right there next to my manager, Jeffrey. She’s my number one fan, always believes in me when I don’t believe in myself,” he looks down at his shoes bashfully. “Wouldn’t be half the man I am today if it weren’t for her. This is our Grammy, love.”

You blow kisses to your boyfriend, ignoring the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you. As far as you were concerned, you and Harry were the only two people around at that moment. Your heart couldn’t have been any more full.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

To absolutely no one's surprise, you and Harry couldn’t keep your hands off each other for the remainder of the night. You were relieved there were no after parties being held that Harry would be expected to attend due to the pandemic because you could not get him alone fast enough.

“Slow down, Y/N,” Harry sets his Grammy on the foyer table as he kicks off his shoes. “Just us, innit? We’ve got all night, haven’t we?”

“I’m just so proud,” you tell him breathlessly, sucking on the underside of his jaw. “Let me show you.”

“You have been showin’ me. A lot, actually,” Harry leans his head back and closes his eyes in pleasure as you lick tantalizingly slow against his veiny neck. “Guess one more time wouldn’t hurt, though.”

“Do you want me to blow you or not?”

“Oh, so that’s what’s gonna happen here?”

“If you’re gonna be annoying, then no.”

“Kiiiding,” Harry rolls his eyes, pressing a gentle kiss to your nose. “C’mon, let me get you upstairs.”

”You’re the one that won a Grammy, not me,” you remind him. “Let me make you feel good.”

Harry lets out a quiet hum, guiding you towards the couch. “Exactly–– I’m the winner. Doesn’t that mean I should get what I want tonight?” He falls backward onto the couch, pulling you atop his lap. His hand roams down the front of your dress and he squeezes your breasts roughly, clearly delighted that you decided to forgo a bra tonight.

“I suppose,” you answer, biting back a moan.

“You suppose? Not in the mood for it tonight?” He starts to retract his hand but you grab his wrist, stopping him.

“I am!” You don’t even try to hide how desperate you are for your boyfriend.

“Gonna let me taste you, hmm?” As Harry asks his question he slowly slides off the couch and onto his knees in front of you, bunching your dress up around your hips. He leans in close to your already dripping center and inhales deeply, a blissed-out look on his face. “Smell fuckin’ incredible. I gotta taste ya.”

You spread your legs wider without even thinking about it, almost as if it’s on instinct. Harry easily moves your underwear to the side and immediately connects his lips with your clit, not giving you time to adjust to the sensation before he’s just going at it.

“Oh, Harry…”

“Rings on or off?” His voice is muffled due to your thighs being clamped around his head, but you can still understand what he’s saying.

“On!”

Harry chuckles against your cunt before sliding his index finger in with ease, loving the way you immediately clenched around the digit. “Y’like that, lovie? Wanna take another one?”

“Please.” Your boyfriend already has you breathless despite the fact that he was just getting started.

Harry slips his middle finger into you along with his index finger and starts curling it up in the way he knew you liked, trying his hardest to stimulate your g-spot. He looks extremely focused; leave it to Harry to make a night that was supposed to be all about him, not.

“S’fuckin’ tight,” he says, more so to himself. “You’d think with all the shags we’ve been ‘avin lately you’d be used to my fingers by now.”

You let out a loud groan at your boyfriend’s dirty talk. He knew that it was one of your biggest kinks so he usually overdid it just a tad bit. It’s not like you were complaining, though.

“Guess that means you’re not fuckin’ me hard enough, huh?”

Harry stops his movements and looks up at you through slightly hooded eyes, an amused (but not really) look on his face. “Not fuckin’ you hard enough? Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

You can tell by the tone of Harry’s voice that he has it out for you now, but there’s no use in recanting your statement. He was about to make sweet, primal, love to you and god were you ready. Harry goes back to mercilessly fucking into you with his thick fingers, speeding up or slowing down his pace based on how you clench around him.

”Fuck, H.”

“Feels nice?” He goes from moving his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion to a scissoring motion which feels just as good if not better.

“Yeah, really nice,” your fingers are tangled in Harry’s hair and you know he’ll give you hell later for getting it all knotted. “I’m close.”

“Already? Haven’t even properly fucked you yet,” Harry removes his fingers from you aching cunt agonizingly slow, wiping them on his expensive Gucci trousers. “Guess I’ll jus’ have to fix that, yeah?”

“I guess so.”

“You’ve got a mouth on you tonight, pet. Is that really any way to treat your Grammy-winning boyfriend-”

“Harry, come off it!” You exclaim, letting out a loud laugh as you watch him stand up and unbutton his pants. “You’re insufferable, I swear.”

Harry shoots you one of his blindingly bright smiles, wiggling his eyebrows as his pants pool around his feet. “Hey, ‘m just statin’ facts.”

He collapses onto the couch and pats his lap, giving his leaking cock two quick tugs. “Ride me.”

“Just because you won a Grammy doesn’t mean you don’t have to ask nicely anymore.”

“Y/N, my beautiful, dazzling, elegant girlfriend, will you please do me the honors of riding––”

“Why do you make everything so weird?” You groan as Harry laughs and pulls you into his lap with ease, wincing when your thigh brushes against his cock. Wordlessly, he places his hands on your hips and helps you sink down onto him, taking his lip in between his teeth to keep from yelling out.

”Fuck me…”

“I’m about to,” you reply, resting your head on his shoulder as you adjust to his size. His hands roam the expanse of your back as he waits for you to get used to the feeling on him, wanting to feel every part of your body all at once. Without warning, you begin sluggishly rolling your hips. You were in no rush anymore; you had him inside of you, and that was all you wanted from the start.

“S’that all you got in ya?” His tone is cheeky, almost mocking. “I think you can give me more than tha’.”

“I dunno if I can.”

“Why’s that?” Harry bucks his hips upward slightly causing you to let out a loud gasp.

“I just want you to fuck me. I don’t wanna do any work.”

At this, Harry quickly flips you over so your sweaty body is now below his. You moan at the sensation the new angle immediately brought you. “Want me on top like this? This is how you wanna have me, angel?”

You nod.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, Harry,” your eyes squeeze shut as Harry begins quickly thrusting into you. “God, yes. That feels amazing.”

“Yeah? Do you like it when I fuck you like this?” Harry reaches his hand down to thumb at you clit and raises an eyebrow while awaiting your answer.

“God,” you grab onto your breasts to prevent them from bouncing around as Harry’s thrusting into you but he rips your hand away.

“Wanna see ‘em.”

“Right there,” you moan, no longer trying to bite back your sounds of pleasure. Between Harry eating you out, fingering you, and now fucking you harder than he has in ages, you were a few sloppy thrusts away from coming all over his cock. “I’m gonna cum–”

“...Already?”

You know he’s teasing but you still reach between your sweaty bodies to swat at his bare chest. “Don’t tease!”

“‘M messin’ with ya, puppy,” Harry pushes his curls out of his eyes. “I’m almost there- you first. Cum for me, Y/N.”

Harry doesn’t have to tell you twice. You spasm around his cock as soon as he tells you to, lifting your hips up to meet him as you could tell he was growing tired. Harry pulls out moments later, muttering a quick, “Where do you want it?” before finishing on your chest.

The silence that fills the room is comforting but of course, it’s cut short by your pest of a boyfriend.

“If that's what I got just for winning one Grammy, what would I get if I won the others?”

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic

2K notes · View notes

vibraniumwing · 3 years

Text

soft.

a bucky barnes x fem!reader wherein the reader comes home to see the super soldier with a toddler tucked in his lap.

WARNING: none! (all mistakes within the story are mine)

A/N: soft and domestic (and clingy) bucky, anyone? i’ve written this with tfaws bucky in mind after episode five where he was on the couch and smiled after seeing sam’s nephews. so yes now i present to you bucky with a child bcs we need that content, ,, good bYe for i shall be drowning in my own feels.

---

“Do you really have to go, doll?” Bucky asked, watching you by the frame of your shared bedroom door with his hands crossed against his chest. A heavy sigh heaving from his lips as his eyes observed you pick out a shirt to wear, hands grasping on his black shirt and opted to wear that; a small smile formed on his lips as you slipped into the clothing piece, adoring how big it looks on you.

You turned to him with your hand on your waist, an eyebrow raised, “Unless you want to starve for a whole month then fine I won’t go to the grocery” you say teasingly, checking yourself out in the mirror before walking up to him, arms linking around his neck loosely; his hands circling around your waist in a protective manner as he pulls you into him. “I won’t be gone for the whole day, James.”

He groaned softly, wanting nothing more than to accompany you but seeing that you were going with your mother, he opted out. “You always say that then be gone for the whole afternoon.” he grumbles in between the kisses he gives you. “You and your mom take so much time at the grocery store.”

You threw your head back and laughed, finding his small whiny state adorable. You retract your arms from behind his neck and cupped the sides of his face, squishing his cheeks gently. “You sound like a child, Buck. I promise I won’t be long. Besides, you have Alpine to keep you company.” you motion your head to the sleeping cat on the bed.

“Now please let me go so I can leave now and be back sooner.” you tell him, pressing one final kiss to his lips before ducking out of his embrace, making your way to the front door and grabbing your car keys before turning back to see him standing behind you with a small pout on his lips (albeit he would never admit to doing such an act),

You grinned and walked up to him, reaching up to press a small kiss on his lips. “Sometimes it's hard to believe you’re this big scary dude that can take twenty men down in a course of ten minutes when all I see is this big baby.” you tease, a hand snaking up to the back of his head to play with the ends of his hair softly.

“Doll wait before you go” Bucky starts off, holding onto you, cheeks lightly flushed as he hesitated with his words, clearing his throat lightly before looking away, “Can you set up that damn Netflix thing on the TV before you leave?”

Your gaze on him softened even more and nodded, leading him to the living room and set the whole thing up for him, handing him the remote right after. “I’m guessing you can manage now?” he smiled shyly, the area around his eyes crinkling as he nodded. “Yeah, I will. Thanks, doll.”

“I’ll be back later, I love you, Buck!” You bid him a goodbye, looking back at him from the door and gave him a small wave, the male waving back before focusing on the TV, searching for that one movie you suggested he watch.

“What was that movie called again? RIght, The Breakfast Club”

---

Not even half-way through the movie, Bucky had somehow fallen asleep on the couch, not finding the first few minutes of the film entertaining. He somehow fell deep into slumber that he didn’t even notice the front door of the house opening until he felt something being placed on his stomach.

He stirred awake and the first thing his blurry vision could make out is the outline of a toddler sitting on him. “Hey James, I’m leaving Hugo with you and Y/N for the weekend. Our babysitter cancelled out last minute and I’ve been trying to call my sister but she hasn’t picked up any calls.” Damian, your younger brother said in a rush, putting down your nephew’s baby bag on the coffee table. “Thanks James, we owe you one.”

But before Bucky could get a say in any of this, Damian was already out the door and the sound of a car pulling away was followed. Barely half-awake, he stared at the tyke who was staring right back at him with his innocent E/C doe eyes. “What do I do with you?”

He takes Hugo in his arms as he sits up, placing him on his lap, his metal arm reaching over to pause television. “Y/N’s better at this than I am.” he mumbles, watching the child look around the room before he started to fidget on the larger male’s lap, wanting to roam around.

Bucky sighs, “Now why won’t Y/N answer her calls?” he asks the tiny human who was still staring up at him. He reaches over to grab his phone and dials your number, only to hear it ring from the other side of the house, inside your room. He dropped the call and placed his phone inside his pocket, now wondering what he could do to keep the small person alive.

“Usually Y/N deals with you.” He says, watching the small child struggle on his lap, clearly wanting to get down. Bucky finally gets what Hugo wanted to do and sets him down on the carpeted floor, watching the toddler (wobbly) walk around the space freely.

Seeing that the child was doing alright after finding a small fixation with Alpine who was now resting near the couch, he returned his attention back to the TV to resume watching the movie. His attention split in half as he continued to glance back at the kid who was now playing with the toys you had brought him and kept at in a basket in the corner of the living room where you deemed it “Hugo’s Area”

Bucky was finally getting into the film, entertainment written all over his face at the sight of the students dancing around the library until it morphed into one of concern when a small bonk followed by a loud cry resonated the room making him look over at Hugo who was already flushed from crying.

He paused the movie again and rushed over to Hugo’s side, taking the small boy in his arms, cradling him on his lap as he tried to calm him down. “Now kid, don’t cry on me. C’mon” he mumbled, raising him up lightly to look at his forehead as he searched for any wounds, relieved to find none.

“C’mon James, what would Y/N do…” He said to himself, standing up as he moved around and cradled the crying child, trying to remember what you would do whenever he has meltdowns like this.

“Oh god, right!” Bucky exclaimed as he remembered, quickly going to the couch and sat down, placing Hugo on his lap as he gently placed his vibranium hand on the back of his head and his flesh one cupping the smaller one’s cheek, wiping the tears that glistened on his smooth skin.

Seeing how the toddler was starting to calm down, he carefully spoke, “Now you gotta work with me, little one.” Bucky then proceeded to blow softly on his face, remembering how you would do that when Hugo was having a fit. “Now can you do that for me as well?” He asked, encouraging the child with a small smile.

Once he felt the kid do the same thing, he repeated the steps a few more times until he was completely calm, letting the child snuggle up against his chest, feeling how he would occasionally let out a small shuddering sob from time to time, making Bucky laugh at the adorable action. “Now what do you want to do?” he gently asked, the cold surface of his metal hand that caressed the child’s back making small bubbles of laughter elicit from the baby.

“Bucky wead [ read ] pwease?” was all that left the two-year old’s mouth, causing a small surprise from the older. Hugo then pushed himself off from Bucky’s chest and turned to his small corner of the room, raising his small arm and pointing his even smaller finger towards the bookshelf that was filled to the brim with story books.

A chuckle left the soldier’s lips, “Alright then, little dude. Go take your pick.” he then proceeded to let him down and watch as the toddler walked his way towards the array of books and picked out one, running back towards him with a big smile.

“Alright big guy, what do you have for me?” Bucky asked, taking the tyke in his arms once again, taking the book from Hugo’s hands. He let out a (very) fake gasp of excitement which made the toddler laugh out loud as his reaction, making small little wiggles of his own eagerness for the book.

Bucky shifted in his seat a little to be more comfortable, letting Hugo snuggle up to him as he opened the book and started to read, “Llama Llama, red pajama, reads a story with his mama.”

---

You were elated to finally come back home and fall into your lover’s arms from a long day of errands with your mom. After the Target trip with your mom, you had to drive her back home and help her with her own groceries and pack up everything with her over at your childhood home一 with an addition of having a few serious talks with her about your future.

“Seriously, Y/N. When are you going to give me a grandchild?” Your mother poked your sides as you helped her bring in the bags filled with her stuff. Ever since Damian introduced Hugo to the family, she’d been on your heels about when you and Bucky would bring one to them as well; admittedly you and him had been in a much longer relationship than Damian and his wife which surprises everyone even more.

You shrugged, rolling your eyes in a playful manner. “I don’t know, mom. I think I’m content being with Bucky for now.” you answered truthfully, setting the items on the kitchen island and turned to her, “Besides, we have Alpine! Our cat!”

This made your mother sigh, laughing softly at your antics. “I know my sweet girl, but I’m just so excited to see a little you or James run around with Hugo.” Her answer causes your heart to swell at the thought of starting a family with him some day; conversations like this with him are normal but are always caught in a fleeting moment so you were never certain about his opinions on the matter.

“Well you just have to wait and see, ma.”

Taking the bags in your hand, you walked over to the door and opened it with ease, expecting to see Bucky waiting for you on the other side only to be greeted by none. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you carefully stepped inside, assuming he had fallen asleep as he waited for you until you heard his quiet voice resonating through the living room. “Little llama, don’t you know? Mama llama loves you so”

You peeked at the source of the sound and what you saw made you just melt on the spot. Bucky had Hugo on his lap, your nephew playing with the thumb of his artificial arm as he listened to the story that he was barely paying attention to as he was already falling asleep.

Not wanting to interrupt the moment, you graced on over to the kitchen in silence and arranged everything as quiet as you can. The smile on your face growing bigger at the thought of how much of a good father Bucky could be; the sight of him with your nephew caused a thousand butterflies to dance around in your stomach freely.

“You’re back, doll?” Bucky’s quiet voice made you jump, head whipping to his direction where he stood with Hugo fast asleep in his arms.

You nod and walk towards him, offering to take him from his arms and Bucky disagreed, pulling away from your attempts. “Hugo’s with me, I’ll take him to bed and I’ll help you finish out here, alright?”

Chuckling softly, you agree and reach up to place a quick kiss on your nephew’s forehead, moving aside so Bucky can place him down inside your room.

You were folding up the plastic bags when you felt a pair of arms sneak up and circle your waist, capturing you in a back hug. Your back was flat against his chest, the warmth from his body making you relax in his arms. Turning around, you let your arms snake up around his neck, your hands playing with the ends of his hair, his physique visibly loosening up. “So your brother came here earlier and said you weren’t picking up your calls.”

“I forgot my phone, i know.” you told him, throwing your head back slightly to let out a soft groan of annoyance at yourself before looking back at him. You met his gaze and his eyes were filled with adoration and love with a spark of something you can’t seem to pinpoint. “What’s going through that head of yours, James?”

He hummed softly, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, “I was just thinking of how I want to have a family of my own with you.” he answered truthfully, not finding anything shameful in admitting his thoughts. “The afternoon I spent with Hugo made me realize I want that for us as well.” his words were soft and dripping with enthusiasm at the thought of being with you for the rest of your days.

This made your cheeks flush lightly, a happy smile resting on your lips as you were already in agreement of his words, “I’ve been thinking the exact same thing, Bucky. I can’t wait to have our own little minion running around the house.” you admitted, this time making Bucky smile even wider than yours, happy that you had the same thought.

“Also, not to brag but I think I’m his favourite now.” Bucky said out of nowhere, grabbing the small carton of chocolate milk from behind you and letting you go, opening the drink and chugging it down in one go.

You rolled your eyes at his words, playfully flipping him off as you sauntered into the pantry where you were arranging your stock of goods. “I highly doubt that, he loves me way more.”

“That’s what you think but Hugo made me read his favourite book to him so now I’m his favourite. He even said it himself.”

“Oh no he didn’t!”

---

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chanfictions · 3 years

Text

Count - Pt. 5

Part 1 - Bonus Scene - Part 2 - Special Episode: Red - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Special Episode: Nightmares - Part 6 - Part 7 - Special Episode: Sick Day - Part 8 - Special Episode: Nightmares Pt. 2

18+ Content! MINORS, DNI.

Kakuzu x Reader, Hidan x Reader

Sensory deprivation, mind games, Kakuzu the Brat Tamer/Breaker, size kink if you squint, Daddy kink if you really squint, degradation-ish, punishments/funishments, flogging, sadism/masochism, overstimulation, dacryphilia, double penetration, anal, breath play, multiple orgasms, also some aftercare and fluff at the end.

7.2k

"Hey, Kakuzu, wanna go for a high score?"

With Deidara still out getting himself into who knows what kind of trouble with Tobi, you had astonishingly little to do in the absence of your accident prone, palm-tonguey nemesis. On top of that, Hidan and Kakuzu had been absent for weeks, which meant you were dreadfully bored, and boredom was dangerous for a mischief-loving miscreant such as yourself.

As you sauntered your way down the hall, drinking some hellish concoction of Hidan's through a crazy straw, you peered into a room you frequented -- Kakuzu's. Curiously, the old grouch was nowhere in sight, which you found surprising, considering he and Hidan were definitely back from their last mission. The high octane liquor you were enjoying was evidence of that. Snickering to yourself as you spotted a stray length of rope peeking out from a drawer, you wondered what it might take today to push Kakuzu's buttons. With another loud slurp, you tilted your head. There was something else sticking out from that drawer, which was curiously un-Kakuzu-like. He never left things looking so unkempt. Unable to see from your vantage point in the doorway, you peered around for lurking Kakuzus before padding into his room to investigate. Closer inspection revealed that the other object was a little slice of leather.

Just as you reached out to touch it, a large palm snapped around your wrist, spinning you around by it and pinning you against the dresser with a loud snarl. The panty-soaking presence that was Kakuzu had seemingly materialized behind you. Wide-eyed, you squeaked in surprise, nearly dropping your drink as you braced yourself against the chest of drawers now digging into your back. It never ceased to amaze you how quietly he was able to move.

"Do you make a habit of sneaking around other people's rooms when they aren't here?" He growled from behind his mask, leaning in close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath through that fabric, taking your drink from you and setting it down atop the surface.

"Only when I'm really bored," you replied with a cheeky smile, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. Oh boy, did you ever know you were in trouble, and you were just loving it. In the weeks they had been away, you had been sorely missing the romps that left you a drooling, incoherent mess. Heated anticipation pooled in your belly as the thought of him absolutely wrecking you for this incursion into his space bounced around in your twisted little head.

You could almost see the wicked smirk spreading across Kakuzu's lips. The corners of his eyes crinkled as those jade orbs zeroed in on you. "I just got back from an incredibly irritating mission with Hidan, and you think it's going to be a fun game to push my buttons because you're bored?"

"I'm not known for my wise decision making," you giggled, reaching up to give Kakuzu's nose a boop. "Daddy."

Threads shot out from his forearm, snatching your hand before you could go through with the sacrilege of booping his nose while his hand clamped around your throat. "Had you been a good little girl and waited, you would have found out later that Hidan brought back a little present for you, and it is in that drawer. But now, it looks like I'm going to have to punish you first."

Masking your excitement proved to be immensely difficult. A choked, lusty whine rolled into bubbling laughter around the pressure around your neck that just set your body on fire. Your eyes rolled back in your head for a moment. You missed this. Feeling the heat from Kakuzu's body radiating through his clothes and the ridge of every bulging muscle that pressed into your body was just electrifying. His thigh was now firmly nestled between your legs, creating just enough friction to be a horrible tease. "Define punish," you grinned, tonguing your teeth with a wild look in your eyes.

Kakuzu growled, threads winding more tightly around your wrist as more slithered out from the seam in his arm and took the place of his rough hand around your throat as well as the other that held your other wrist. Doing that just seemed to excite you more. Goddamn little masochist, he thought with a hidden sneer. Punishing you required a bit of creativity, as pain alone would be nothing but fun for you. With a sharp yank, he pulled you away from the dresser, caging you against his chest with his arm in order to open the drawer against which you were previously leaning. You lost yourself for a moment, the heat of his body, the pressure from the powerful arm around your back, and the familiar scent of sandalwood consuming your senses made you briefly forget the can of worms you just opened by taunting him. His free hand dug blindly for several long lengths of rope, which he dropped to the floor beside you with a heavy thud. "Strip," he snarled lowly in your ear as he released you from your temporary bindings.

A shiver raced down your spine and settled firmly in your belly with the twisting, needy heat that was steadily building between your legs. Mission, accomplished. Kakuzu's buttons had been thoroughly pressed, and the intensity pulsing from his body was seriously compromising your resolve. Your eyes darted behind him briefly, searching for your extra source of confidence that came in the form of Hidan, though his partner was nowhere to be seen.

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he gripped your chin to point your gaze up at him and swiped his thumb across your lower lip. "What's the matter, girl? Lost your nerve?"

Twisting your face and making your best attempt at narrowing your eyes at him, you clicked your tongue against your teeth, initiating the staring contest you would inevitably lose. Your heart hammered in your chest as you weighed your options. While the bratty masochist chattering in your ear wanted nothing more than to taunt him further, you knew better. Too much snark would lead to him simply ending this little game and leaving you with an empty, unfulfilled ache in your core. Some compliance was necessary, at least for now.

Kakuzu leered down at you, tightening his grip on your face while tendrils taunted you from the seam in his arm and speaking in the low, threatening tone that made your legs quiver with delight. "Don't make me repeat myself."

Kakuzu could break your neck if he wanted to with just a twist of your head. That compounded with the painfully tight grip of his massive hand on your jaw just made the pulsing hunger in your core worse. Your panties were already soaked. It was divine. The snarl in his tone, though, shook you from the glory you were basking in. You drew your shirt over your head and considered flinging it at him briefly, but you were given no such opportunity. The hand at your throat snatched it from you, tossing it atop the dresser next to your forgotten drink along with the rest of your clothes that you swiftly shed.

While Hidan always complained about how long it took, being tied into one of Kakuzu's rope sculptures was one of your favorite parts of these play dates. A content little moan escaped your lips as Kakuzu roughly grabbed you by the hips, standing you precisely below the metal ring from which you would soon be swinging. Low, raspy laughter hummed in your ears as you completely blissed out with each methodical wrap the lengths of rope made around your body. "Do you have any idea what you're in for, little girl?" He growled wickedly, breath fanning your neck as he tightened a knot and gave your entire body a rough yank.

You just giggled and bit your lip, letting your head fall back against him as you slipped into your happy place while he continued crafting the chest and hip harnesses that would soon be supporting you from the ceiling. Every rumbling threat just made you hotter. "Mmmm… nope. Should I be scared?" You inquired in a playfully sarcastic tone, which earned you another crushing grip around your throat.

"Probably," Kakuzu sneered with his mouth directly beside your ear.

Still swelling with a chest full of lusty attitude, you licked your lips and locked eyes with him again. "Your threads don't scare me anymore, Daddy. Dare I say, I might even like them."

Grinning from behind his mask, Kakuzu grasped your chin again with an almost alarmingly light touch. "Do you really think that's the only punishment I have for you?"

"I think you're bluffing," you teased and swayed your hips, pressing your ass against Kakuzu's now obvious arousal.

Snickering at your continued defiance, Kakuzu hoisted you up by your ropes abruptly until you were eye level with him, knocking the wind out of you briefly from the sudden force. "I don't bluff."

Heat crept across your face as jolts of delicious anticipation rattled through your bones and into your core. That frighteningly soft touch and coarse, threatening tone sent waves of goosebumps across your exposed skin. You wound your thighs together for a bit of friction to alleviate the ache of your throbbing pussy as you dangled completely off of the ground. "Oh, what else, then?" You goaded in an effort to maintain your facade, though it was swiftly cracking under his menacing gaze.

"You'll see," he chuckled lowly. "Or rather, you won't." Suddenly, a swath of darkness obstructed your vision. A thick, delightfully silky cloth covered your eyes and was tied tightly around your head, giving you little ability to scrunch your face enough to see anything at all. More dark, raspy laughter echoed from his chest, and you swung idly in stunned silence, swallowing hard and struggling to collect yourself. He stepped away from you, just far enough that you could no longer feel his movements and circled you like a lion, admiring his not-quite-complete handiwork. "What, no snappy retorts this time?" He sneered in a deep rumble.

A whine got stuck in your throat as you struggled to zero in on where he was standing by sound, but he gave you little time to think, as that taunting laughter seemed to move out of sync with where you thought you heard footsteps. Gusts of air rushed over your skin, giving you the impression of ghosted strikes. It left you gasping in surprise as still, no strike came.

"I can break you without even touching you, little girl," his deep voice hummed in your head.

Gathering all of the courage you had left in your body, you choked out your challenge, masking the tremble in your tone. "Try me."

"You don't know what to do with yourself when there isn't anything to feel," he growled from everywhere at once, the sound seeming to echo off of the walls. Slow footsteps followed out of time with the words, and you found yourself slowly swinging as light pressure was applied to the rope. "You rely so heavily on pain to ground you that feeling nothing is unbearable." The turning of your head was enough to make you spin, disorienting you further. Another confused, lusty shudder rattled your body as phantom sensations haunted your exposed skin. The hints of motion and your inability to trust your senses began forming a knot in your throat. You jumped at the loud snap of leather and gush of air that whizzed next to your face.

Kakuzu actually made you flinch.

"Oh, is the bratty little masochist nervous?" He hissed in your ear, his voice seeming to originate from the inside of your head. Another crack thundered just millimeters from your inner thigh, heightening your intense, needy ache.

You flinched again and your breath caught in your throat. The sound of blood rushing in your ears was deafening. You bit your trembling lip hard enough to draw blood, seeking any sensation to focus on as the taste of iron filled your mouth.

Kakuzu hummed with amusement as he paused directly in front of you. The heat of his breath breezed across your ear as he spoke with that same deep, taunting tone. "Keep that up and I'm going to take sound from you next."

A whimper rattled in your throat as you released your lip from the crushing bite of your teeth. A tiny trickle of blood tumbled down your lip onto your chin.

"Good girl," he grinned from behind his mask, resuming his slow, stalking gait.

You swallowed back the growing lump of anxiety that coiled uncomfortably in your chest, twisting your bound up hands against the ropes above your head to which they were tied. Fuck, Kakuzu was good. Your confident facade had completely crumbled, and you were swiftly coming undone. Clenching your teeth tightly, you stifled a yelp when another phantom strike disturbed the air just beside your ribs. Your body hummed with adrenaline. Releasing the tension in your jaw left you with chattering teeth. Those impossible, silent footsteps of Kakuzu's were maddening. There was no knowing where he was at any given point, even with the quiet hums of mocking laughter and snaps of leather that marked his movements.

He reached over your head and gave your rope another push, sending you on a new, pendulous arc, swinging in soft circles as you spun from the ring above. "Your little superpower is the reason you enjoy pain so much," he continued. "No consequences, no reason to fear injury," he murmured. "You know what to expect. There aren't any surprises. You know them all. Canes, straps, floggers, kunai…" he trailed off with a twisted smirk beneath his mask as he watched your chest rise and fall with hitched breaths, building to what he knew would make you unravel. "Scalpels, even."

"K-kakuzu--" you stammered fearfully with a cracking voice, twisting in your bindings as air rushed across your belly. Your mouth went dry and your heart pounded wildly in your chest. Of course he would bring that up.

"But the last one," he mused, grasping your ropes and halting your motion, drinking in the sight of your absolutely coming undone. "There's fear with that, isn't there, girl?"

The words in your mouth meant to answer him crumbled upon your tongue as you squirmed, a high whine taking their place. All you could do was feebly nod. Terror knotted in your gut. He knew.

"That might make a suitable punishment for you, then," he growled wickedly. "What do you think, lab rat?"

Twisting wildly in your bindings, you furiously shook your head, stammering incoherent pleas as you jerked away from every phantom sensation that ghosted your skin.

Kakuzu had won.

He moved behind you, breaking the long pause of absent contact by pressing a heavy hand just below your sternum and running it slowly upward over the landscape of ropes and knots until it reached your throat, pinning your bound body tightly against his chest and feeling your pulse race beneath his rough fingertips. You couldn't stifle the shriek that bubbled in your throat as he drew a hard, swift line with cold metal from below your navel up to your solar plexus. Thrashing in his grip and kicking at his legs, your senses went haywire. You choked on your own gasping breaths and nearly tapped out when a deep chuckle rumbled through his chest and into your body. Craning his neck down slightly as he coiled himself around you to calm your panicked struggling, he whispered lowly in your ear, "I told you, little girl, I don't bluff."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from beneath your blindfold as the heat of his palm pressing firmly against your stomach replaced the sensation of cold metal digging into your skin. The buzzing adrenaline coursing through your veins rang so many alarm bells in your head that it took a solid ten seconds for you to realize that he hadn't actually drawn any blood.

The sound of another person's sadistic laughter filled your head along with the heavy impacts of slow clapping. "Ooh, Daddy, that was mean."

Hidan. You could feel the rumbling growl in Kakuzu's chest at the use of that name.

"I don't even play the lab rat card, and I'm supposed to be the sadist," he snickered as he stalked in from his observation post near the doorway, the sound of his footfalls marking his approach toward where you were hanging. "Look at how worked up you got her over the hilt of a kunai. She actually thought you had a scalpel."

Kakuzu just snorted, continuing to run his knuckles over the line he had drawn with the blunt metal to erase the lingering sensations the cold left behind while you trembled and struggled to come back down from the ceiling. "Punishment for snooping."

Hidan grinned, leaning in to cup your trembling face with a palm, purring in a mocking tone. "Aw baby, didn't I tell you he's meaner than I am? Look at you. You're a wreck. I bet you've got some tears under that blindfold." His free hand traced along your side, enjoying every ridge and knot the ropes left where they still dug into your skin. "You're just dying for someone to hit you after all of that, aren't you?"

You swallowed audibly with a small nod, still trying to stuff your heart back into your chest where it belonged. Hidan was right on the money, of course. Your skin was buzzing and crawling from the itching teases of feigned strikes thanks to Kakuzu. He had tied the rope harnesses so expertly that even the pressure of your body being suspended in the air like this wasn't enough to scratch your masochistic itch.

Hidan's eyes ignited with a lustful blaze as he dug his nails into your inner thigh. "Maybe I'll even use the little surprise I brought back for you if you beg for it."

That sensation alone after the prolonged nothingness Kakuzu subjected you to was enough to make you groan contently and drop your head back. It was almost instantly grounding and became a singular point of focus. You nearly forgot that Hidan had just been talking to you.

"We're far from finished with you, little girl. It's been a long few weeks," Kakuzu gruffed from behind you.

That's for sure. The two of them were in prime form, working as a team instead of bickering, and they were just evil when they cooperated. Clearly, they had missed these romps just as much as you had. The sadistic aura radiating from both of them indicated as much. You swallowed back the dry lump in your throat, stammering out your plea, "Please hit me and make this crawling feeling stop," your voice cracked as your body trembled with broken resolve. Your request was met with quiet, rumbling laughter as Kakuzu shifted around you, keeping a hand on you as he moved and taking Hidan's place in front of you while his partner stepped away and rifled through a drawer. Kakuzu attached the remaining loops of rope around your thighs, posing you as though you were sitting on a swing, legs splayed apart and arms bound above your head. Always thinking ahead, he kept the remaining lengths of rope to your sides, giving Hidan ample striking space. Peering behind you and seeing Hidan standing ready with his new toy in hand, Kakuzu tapped you under the chin lightly with a knuckle. With a blissful sigh, you dropped your head back again and smiled as you murmured your response. "Green."

The first strike came so hard and fast that you could still taste your last word on your tongue when it landed. The weight of the impact stole the breath from your lungs, leaving you with just enough air to moan a thank you to the sky. You bit your lip when a rough hand snaked around your thigh and rubbed your exposed, dripping cunt. "Fear slut," Kakuzu gruffed in amusement.

You breathed an almost unintelligible maybe as Hidan found a rhythm for his bruising strikes with that flogger, painting the entire side of you that faced him with broken blood vessels while Kakuzu sneered and slowly sunk two thick fingers into your core. It was euphoric. A pathetic mewl rattled in your throat as Kakuzu took hold of your neck with one hand and drove you to the brink of failure with the other, rubbing rough circles on your clit while stretching you out enough to fit a third finger. Every impact of the flogger drove you down onto his hand like a hammer striking a nail, sending waves of rippling pleasure tearing through your body. Your bound legs shook and walls clenched as you struggled against the ropes to no avail. "Fuck, p-please--" you croaked.

Hidan paused for a moment, making eye contact with his partner as a wicked grin stretched across his face. "Hey, Kakuzu, wanna go for a high score?"

Kakuzu hummed in thought, enjoying the near pained look on your face as you struggled to hold back, considering offering you a bit of kindness after his earlier cruelty. "That should be fun," he mused, slowly pumping his fingers into your pulsing heat.

"Fuck," you squeaked, dropping your head back and clenching your jaw.

Kakuzu snickered, withdrawing his fingers from you just for an instant to wind up and give your exposed pussy a hard spank, sending shockwaves rippling through your body. "Count them," he grunted in your ear, thrusting his fingers back into you and grinding the heel of his hand against your slick clit in unison with the next strike from Hidan that definitely bruised your ass.

Your walls clenched and the knot of heat in your belly snapped, leaving you wailing in relief at the ceiling as you cried out a resounding, "One!" You shivered as the waves crashed through your body and relentless heat began to build again, as Kakuzu showed no signs of mercy while you bucked into his hand. The intensity of the strikes at your back increased, leaving delicious, stinging bruises everywhere the strips of leather contacted your skin. You wanted to thank Hidan for procuring such a delightful toy, but you currently lacked the bandwidth to make such a statement, as you swiftly found yourself coming down from one high and being thrown right into another. You grit your teeth with a stifled moan, taking in the sounds of the snapping leather and taunts from the pair as Kakuzu drew you toward another peak with a curl of his fingers.

Two. You heard yourself shriek and laugh wildly, clenching around the digits buried within you in blissful glee as the strikes to your back broke the skin.

Three. Kakuzu murmured soft threats in your ear as he landed another hard smack on your throbbing clit.

Four. You threw your head back and wailed, gushing all over Kakuzu's arm, panting for air like you'd been running for your life.

Five. You couldn't even get the word out properly and struggled in your bindings, seeing stars as tears soaked your blindfold.

The strikes to your flaming back ceased, and the sound of encroaching footsteps filled your head, breaking through the static and scream of blood rushing in your ears. "Fuck, I love it when you make her cry," Hidan purred from behind you, heat radiating from his body into yours as he ran rough palms over the welts and bruises littering your skin.

Kakuzu sneered from behind his mask, trailing hands over your thighs. "And we're only at five."

Struggling to catch your breath, your head came to rest against Hidan's shoulder as he moved in closer, reaching around you to grope your breasts and pinch your pebbled nipples for the delicious whine you inevitably let loose. "I hope you're ready for more, babe," he hummed with a devious smirk. "We still have a score to beat."

You stammered a whimpering reply that vaguely resembled the word "fuck", but even you weren't totally sure what you said.

"You gonna be a good girl and take us both?" Hidan murmured while raking his teeth across your neck and giving your taught buds another squeeze.

You keened into the distracting touch as Kakuzu's fingers dug into your thighs. "Hnnn… yes," you breathed. Sounds of zippers and shuffling clothes hummed in your ears. Two pairs of hands gripped your hips. The hot, broad head of a cock swiped through your soaked folds as Kakuzu's voice buzzed in your head beneath the echo of your own shuddering cries as the fat, dribbling tip of his cock pressed impatiently at your entrance. You tensed with a soft whine, dropping your head back and nearly piercing your lip with your teeth as they impaled you on Kakuzu's cock at an excruciatingly slow pace. Panting and wiggling your hips in protest at the intensity of the stretch, you clawed at the ropes that immobilized your hands in a vain effort to pull yourself back up a bit.

"I fucking love it when you struggle," Hidan growled hungrily into your ear, digging his fingers into your flesh and pressing you down harder onto Kakuzu's immense girth.

"Fuck," Kakuzu groaned lowly as your walls fluttered and clenched around him. Hidan shifted you forward, pressing your face against his cohort's shoulder to give you a brief few moments to adjust while he stepped away for a moment to dig through the drawer of goodies that was off to his right.

You were gasping and breathing heavily once Kakuzu's fat cock was finally fully seated in your core, stammering unintelligibly into the warm, muscular flesh against which your face was buried. Your trembling body was slicked with sweat from the marathon of orgasms you had been chased through. It was already bordering on too much, and your heart thumped wildly in your chest, knowing there was still more to come.

Hidan's intense, magenta eyes gleamed with sadistic glee at the wrecked sight of you as your uneven breaths vibrated through your body and were muffled by his partner's shoulder. He slathered a generous amount of lube over his throbbing arousal before stepping back up to the tangle of ropes suspending you. The heat of his chest melted through your back. A soft, wicked chuckle rumbled in his throat when you moaned at the sting of his body contacting your bruised and broken skin. "I need you to relax for me, babe," he murmured in your ear with a twisted smirk, relishing the sound of your muffled whimpering as he pressed the engorged head of his cock against your puckered hole.

The absolute fullness you began feeling as Hidan slowly eased himself into you was so intense and overwhelming that you nearly forgot to breathe. Taking both of them seemed insurmountable. Every bit of pressure he applied pushed Kakuzu's cock impossibly deeper into your pulsing core. "T-too much -- fuck, I--," you choked out in a broken cry.

Your shaky gasping and tensing body were met with Kakuzu's warm hand on the back of your head and his gravelly voice humming through your entire being. "Breathe."

Hidan groaned, now finally fully buried in your tight ass. "Fuck, she feels so fucking good."

The sensations of them stretching and filling you so completely were so overpowering that your head spun. Every inch of your body was consumed by a delicious ache. A shiver rattled up your spine, and you mewled pathetically as Hidan's hand snaked around the curve of your thigh between your body and Kakuzu's to rub slow circles around your throbbing clit. Your legs trembled and jaw clenched as heat pooled and knotted in your core. Stuttered curses fell from your lips until a wild arch rolled up your back and you wailed skyward, clenching around their shafts in tight, pulsing waves.

Kakuzu grunted, releasing the back of your head and grasping your throat tightly while digging the thick fingers of his other hand into your hip. "Number," he growled.

"S-six," you croaked through the constriction as tears soaked into your blindfold.

A chorus of growls and groans echoed around you as the pair slowly found their rhythm. You found yourself panting and trapped in what almost resembled a tug of war as they possessively gripped your body and ground into your tight little holes, drawing wails and moans from you with every rock and thrust. Teeth sank into your shoulder as you clenched involuntarily again. A hand clamped over your nose and mouth to stifle the deafening banshee's cry that inevitably erupted from your lips when the friction from their motion pushed you over the edge again.

"Seven," Kakuzu counted for you over your muted screaming, driving into you roughly while his partner laughed maniacally next to your cheek.

Unable to breathe around Hidan's grip on your face, you twisted your head in an effort to taste fresh air. Your lungs burned and chest heaved as you yanked on the ropes holding your arms until he finally released you long enough to take a deep inhale. As his hand clamped down again, your eyes rolled back into your head, stars erupting across your vision as Kakuzu gripped your hips and they railed you with a renewed fury. Your legs shook violently and you gushed all over Kakuzu again, screaming hoarsely into Hidan's palm as your head flew back against his shoulder.

"Eight," Hidan grinned, pulling the blindfold down when he allowed you another gulp of air.

You caught a glimpse of Hidan's wild gaze briefly before falling back into your orgasm-drunk abyss. Panting and stuttering when you were allowed air, your head was empty. All that existed was the overpowering sensory input ravaging your nerves. Tears leaked from the corners of your eyes, and a near painful knot of heat twisted in your core as the pace of their dance with you increased. You howled unintelligible obscenities, pulling on your ropes so hard that your body rose up for a moment until the hands gripping your hips pounded you back down again. The resulting crushing tsunami of rippling pulses that raged through every muscle in your body strangled their lengths as you sobbed into the sky.

"Nine," Kakuzu's hand slipped behind your head tilting you forward onto his shoulder to muffle the volume of your fatigued cries. The grips on your body tightened as their motions grew more frantic. The pair seemed to groan in unison as your abused holes clenched and fluttered around them. Neither would last much longer. Their lengths dragged through your shuddering walls, filling you with more pleasure and input than you were able to process.

Your body shook, soaked in sweat and spent as you sucked in fatigued breaths with your forehead on Kakuzu's shoulder. You fumbled over their names, losing syllables as you tried to make sense of the sounds falling from your tongue. "F-fuuck, ple--hease -- so much -- can't--"

"You can do one more for us, right babe?" Hidan cooed.

"D-don't kn-now -- so full," you babbled through tears, feeling that crushing coil building again. "M'on f-fire--" The heat of their bodies pressing against you consumed you. Their arms tightened around you like vices with Kakuzu holding your head firmly down against his shoulder while Hidan took control of your hips, rubbing rough circles on your puffy, engorged, extremely sensitive clit as the ferocious pounding continued.

"Number," Kakuzu's voice rumbled to you, his own breath catching in his throat as he chased his release with your impossibly tight pussy strangling his girth with a crushing grip.

You choked on your own saliva as you sobbed into his chest, your entire body convulsing with the sheer intensity of it all. Words were far out of your reach. You just shook your head as the inhuman sounds flew from your mouth instead of the number he wanted to hear.

That last wave of pulses was more than either of them could take. Their symphony of low growls and litany of curses filled your head as they dug roughly into your body, using you to chase their own release until they painted your insides white, fucking you through those final, fluttering waves. Hidan finally gave your aching clit a break, sliding his hand up your belly before snaking his arm around your waist and groaning into your neck, keeping you firmly pinned between his body and Kakuzu's for a moment as all three of you collectively caught your breath. He slowly slid his shaft from your spent hole, murmuring little praises in response to the whimpers his movement elicited. "That's our good girl. I knew you could handle one more. It's like you were made for us." With a slight smirk playing at his lips, he reached over your head and carefully began untying the knots that held your arms up. Since those ropes weren't actually supporting your weight, freeing them now seemed wise.

With a content groan, Kakuzu eased himself out of you and spilled dribbles of cum down your leg in the process despite your stammered protests over the motion. Completely fucked out of your mind, you thought for a moment that they were just repositioning you. He kept a heavy arm locked around your shaking body, pressing your face against his shoulder with a raspy chuckle and the same reassurance he always had to utter to you after they fucked your soul out of your body. "Relax. You're done."

"Damnit, Kakuzu. Did you have to make these knots so tight?" Hidan grumbled while fidgeting with a lump of rope before finally managing to untie it.

Kakuzu just snorted in response. You hissed when Hidan lowered your arms back down. Your head was still so full of fog that you struggled to process what he was doing. The ache from straining with them above your head for so long was intense. He settled them around Kakuzu's neck since you seemed to have little control over them at the moment.

"Hook--"

Their banter hummed into the background as they worked through the dance of taking you down from the ceiling so that the harnesses could be untied and removed. Dizzy and drunk on the immense high of more orgasms than you had ever had to endure in one go, you just melted against whichever body currently supported you as they shifted you around. Your limbs buzzed and hummed with adrenaline and endorphins, leaving you feeling as though your whole body was vibrating. Even your breaths felt shaky.

The artist behind the mural of knotwork encasing your body took notice of your trembling and uneven breathing once you were settled on his towel-draped lap. He stopped fiddling with the length of rope in his hand to grasp your chin to get your attention and study your expression. "Do I need to cut you out of this again?" His voice still carried that gruff tone, but it lacked its usual bite this time.

You shook your head, leaning into his chest and closing your eyes. "M'okay." You were beat, in every sense of the word. Your back stung and ached with the shifting of the ropes as they were untied. Your arms were still largely useless.

"Was bringing up the lab too much?" He continued that line of questioning while still assessing you, but you just shook your head in response. Kakuzu eyed you intensely for a moment before going back to work, albeit moving a bit more quickly now. The sounds of slipping rope and running water hummed over the steady beat of his hearts as you drifted in your daze, only moving when he shifted you to free lengths of rope from your body. Once you were finally completely untied, he traced his fingertips over the dimples and intents left behind on your skin -- the ghost of the intricate pattern of knots he had painted you with. A satisfied curl pulled at the corner of his masked mouth. It was perfect.

"Alright, water's ready. Let me have the sticky fuck piñata," Hidan called from the open bathroom.

Kakuzu's eyes narrowed in slight annoyance at his partner before slipping his arms around your torso to help you to your feet, snorting with a small laugh when you wobbled like a baby giraffe. "You're going to fall on your face if I let go of you," he goaded.

"Mmnn," you mumbled, leaning heavily against his chest. Finding words required far too much brain power. Arms shuffled you around, and you groaned in protest when Hidan peeled your sticky body away from Kakuzu and hauled you into the bathroom with him. Head still cloudy and unable to focus, all you could really do was lean on him and follow his direction. There was no struggling or contesting the need for a bubble bath this time. The only sound coming from your lips was a soft, pained crackle when the warm water licked your broken skin.

"Yeah, the water always sucks afterward," Hidan mused, settling in behind you and admiring the absolute wreck they had made of you. Calloused palms smoothed over your bruised, broken skin, eliciting whimpers that made him swell with sadistic delight. "Like the new flogger?" He hummed in your ear while running his hands over your thighs.

"Mmhmm," you buzzed back, a soft smile playing at your lips as you let yourself sink into the warmth of the water with Hidan's arms tangled around you. "Good choice."

Hidan couldn't get much else out of you word-wise, as two syllables seemed to be the limit of your brainpower at the moment. Instead, he just enjoyed the quiet, pained sounds you made every time he ran his hands over your bruises, wanting to savor them before they really began to fade. Despite it being a bit painful, that motion almost seemed to be lulling you to sleep. Exhaustion was singing her siren's song for you, and it was so difficult to ignore. You must have dozed off because the next thing you knew, you were being helped out of the water and wrapped tightly in a large towel.

"Sit," Hidan directed while parking you on the closed toilet.

"Clothes?" you mumbled tiredly, leaning into the hands on your shoulders that were keeping you upright as you felt a very real sense of deja vu.

"Already got 'em," Hidan smirked, letting you fold forward over your legs while he dried and dressed himself first. He sat you back up and peeled your towel away to help you into yours when he was finished. Every muscle in your body ached, and your arms were especially difficult to maneuver after how you had been hanging.

"Fuck," you groaned while sticking you legs into shorts.

"Mmm, I love when you make that face," Hidan cooed, grasping your chin and thumbing your cheek with a crooked smile, admiring your adorably pained expression for a moment before getting an arm around your back and guiding you to your feet.

"I can just sleep on the floor," you grumbled, leaning most of your weight into the strong, firm body that was currently keeping you vertical.

Hidan snorted. "No. You know the old grouch has rules about that."

You glanced around, looking for aforementioned grouch. "Where'd he go?"

"Probably to get cleaned up after how much of a mess you made on him," Hidan teased.

You giggled tiredly in agreement. Upon reaching the bed, you flopped forward, sighing happily and laying face down with your legs still hanging off the edge.

"You know, you're just begging me to smack your ass when you lay like that," Hidan teased, groping a bruised cheek to make a point.

"Ow," you grumbled, crawling forward to get the rest of yourself onto the mattress.

"I could go another round if you keep wagging that at me," he hummed deviously.

"Nuh uh," you grunted into the pillow you pulled under your face. "The fuck piñata is broken."

Hidan snickered, sitting down on the edge of the bed and dragging your torso onto his lap. "Broken, eh?" He mused while running his palm up your bruised back with a bit more pressure than necessary.

"Unless you're gonna fuck my face, yeah," you groaned into his leg.

"That an offer?"

You bit his thigh in response.

"Fine, fine," he laughed, lacing his fingers into your hair and giving your scalp a satisfying scratch. You shifted into his hand, curling yourself around his legs and tucking your arms tightly to your chest. "You good?"

"Yeah, just get a little fidgety when'm tired," you mumbled into his leg.

"You're not fidgeting. You're shaking," he commented casually while slowly running his other palm up and down the length of your spine. A pained hiss rushed through your teeth as he rubbed a particularly tender spot, but you found your eyes too heavy to keep open much longer despite the lingering ache.

When the door creaked open to mark Kakuzu's return, you didn't even have it in you to lift your head from its resting place on Hidan's lap. You only cracked an eye open when the bed shifted and thick arms snaked around your body, dragging you from your spot toward the warm, familiar place you usually settled into after intense sessions. "Can Hidan stay too?" You inquired quietly as your face nestled against Kakuzu's arm that you were now wrapped around like it was your pillow.

While letting Hidan of all people spend the night in his bed was one of the last things Kakuzu would normally entertain, a deep rumble of contemplation buzzed in his chest before he finally grunted an answer. "Fine."

"Did you hear that babe? Papazu said we can have a sleepover," Hidan grinned wickedly at his partner while tousling your hair.

You felt the rolling growl build in Kakuzu's chest before he snapped and clocked Hidan with a pillow. "Don't start with me, or I'll hang your disembodied head from the hook in the ceiling for the night."

Hidan cackled, rebuffing the pillow assault with arms shielding his face. "Come on, buddy -- you're gonna hit our little bed warmer with friendly fire."

Snarling, Kakuzu lurched over you to grab Hidan by the throat and threw him down onto the bedding next to you. "If you're going to stay, then shut the hell up and let her sleep."

Still far too amused by this, Hidan laughed and held his hands up in surrender before Kakuzu could go through with any bright ideas about decapitating him. "Okay, okay."

With a crackling hum, you tiredly flopped an arm out and grabbed hold of one of Hidan's before tugging it back toward the tangle you made of your own limbs and Kakuzu's. Silently claiming the appendage for your own, you snuggled yourself down between the two of them with a soft sigh. They shifted slightly around you, quietly rearranging the blanket of strong arms encasing your body while you slowly drifted off to sleep, lulled into a pleasant dreamworld by the quiet thumps of six beating hearts.

#naruto x reader #naruto smut #kakuzu x reader #kakuzu smut #hidan x reader #hidan smut #akatsuki x reader #akatsuki smut #naruto imagines #chanfictions #credit to Papazu-anon for that hilariously amazing nickname

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psychewithwings · 3 years

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Pt. 1 A Visitor... Once Again Kirishima x Goddess!reader

hello hello, this is my contribution to this months bnharem collab! The theme was ‘mythology and lore’ and hit very close to my ancient greek loving soul. We have so many wonderful writers and artists that have worked hard so pls check out the rest of the collab here!!!

I’ve been rather ill and so I’ll be breaking it up into parts, part 2 will be out as soon as I am feeling more myself (which will hopefully be next week). Please enjoy a story about 2 of my favourite characters. Kirishima Eijirou, as his hero self (tho with a demi-god twist) and reader! as Kalypso, the goddess, daughter of Atlas, the titan who holds up the sky. Her curse is that she is forced to live alone on an island and fall in love with any visitor who falls to her shores. Once she falls for them, she is forced to ask if they would like to stay and she may grant them immortality if they say yes, and if not? They may leave. They have no way of leaving the island until she falls in love. She is a kind and wonderful character and I have a lot of love for her, (perhaps I relate to her a bit too much) so it is an honor to tell a new version of her story.

This is set in present day even tho Kalypso is an ancient greek figure, Kirishima is about 25-28 here? Pro hero Kiri!

TW: a small sex scene in the beginning, little bit of dirty talk, penetration

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“Fuck, thats it baby, feel it going all the way inside? Feels good right?” You moan into his neck, “s-so good.” He starts to thrust in and out slowly. Your nails dig into the muscles of his back… his… names and faces are unimportant blurs as he continues to thrust inside. Each drag of his cock hits each sweet spot and taps against your cervix. “Fuck~ you feel so fucking good darling, so-fucking-good, perfect, fucking perfect… yeah that's it clamp down on my cock, massage it with that perfect pussy.” His hand slips between your sweat soaked bodies and rubs quick circles over your clit. “Gonna cum for me baby? I can feel it, you’re about to gush~” You cry into his neck, soft tears of ecstasy hitting his skin. You’re close, so very close-

“Hello? Hey!!! Is anyone home?? Hello?”

You open your eyes and the man above you, the cock inside you, all falls away. It had all been a dream… a delicious, wonderful dream. A dream that had been ruined by an incurable racket. You stare groggily at the ceiling. The ache in your core of having been so close to cumming now boils into a rage. “Hello?!?! Is someone here? Hello??” Your brow crinkled in confusion as to who the rasping voice belonged to. You check to see if you had somehow managed to flip the tv on but the screen was dark. “Does anyone live here?” It dawned on you then… It’s a visitor.

You check the clock that blinks 5:37AM. You groan into a pillow and kick your legs in an attempt to relieve the ache. Your bare thighs are covered in your arousal, which has turned into your frustration. You stay lying still in hopes that he will go away, leave you alone, never return. “HELLO????!?!” But he had to stop screaming and it didn’t seem like he was going to until he came into contact with someone… You knew the nature of the curse well enough at this point but you would try to rebel as long as you could…

You flip the covers off of your body and slowly walk to grab a robe to cover yourself with. You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror while you finish tying the robe. “We got this,” you point to yourself, “no falling in love this time, no falling in love no matter what, ever again, you hear me?” You nod back to yourself. “Pinkie swear.” You touch pinkies with the mirror and laugh coldly. “No more foolish love,” you sarcastically remark before opening the french doors and stepping onto the balcony.

You stare down at the man who had been shouting for so long and your heart drops. He’s beautiful, red hair hanging in his face, still wet with the sea. His body must have been designed by the muses and chiseled by delicate hands. It’s clear even through his clothes. Son of Ares? Or even Zeus perhaps? He is interesting, never had you seen a demigod with such clear physical strength and kind eyes. The combination was rare. He gives you a grin which then fades to surprise. “Oh- I am so sorry, my manners,” he laughs nervously before slowly kneeling on the ground. “Great Goddess, I humble myself now in front of your grace and all encapsulating beauty…” You roll your eyes hoping he will take the hint and shut up. It wasn’t any different from the men before him… It was the same shit as always, though you were disappointed, this one seemed different upon first glance. “...your magnificence is profound, you are both elegant and ethereal in your just standing there-” you cut him off before he can continue the asinine speech. “Ya done?” you ask bluntly.

His eyes grow wide and he softly utters a “what?” You roll your eyes and lean on the gold railing. “Dude, it’s 5am, you’re yelling and ranting, can ya just get to the point?” He remains on his knees in a bow. His pitch varies with confusion as he speaks. “My ship, uhh I crashed it on your shore, and I was hoping that you could umm, maybe assist me in getting home? I-” he hangs his head for a moment, perhaps in exhaustion before continuing. “I have no GPS, no compass, not even a map… if I could do it without bothering you, I would, nothing you for help isn’t very manly... but please Goddess, please help me get home.” You sigh, century after century of the same request has really weakened your patience, though he had asked nicer than most. “You’re stuck here for the foreseeable future,” you smile slightly. You wait for the look of annoyance, frustration, fear… but it never comes. In fact he gives a slight half smile as he stands. “Well, nothing we can do?” he asks. “‘Fraid not,” you sigh. He starts to say something else but he winces. “Are you okay?” you ask, genuine concern bleeding through the nonchalant tone you had been practicing the past milenia. He nods and grabs hold of his side. “I got a little beat up, but don’t worry goddess, ‘tis but a flesh wound,” he tips his head down. As he raises his head he looks deathly pale. “Hey sit down okay?” you call down to him, but it’s too late. His eyes roll back and he collapses. “Shit-” you mutter to yourself as you run down to him.

He lays there in a crumpled heap, his breathing shallow. “Wish you’d said you were hurt first dummy,” you grumble before assessing the situation. You need to get him to the herbs and the back porch. This wouldn't be easy, he’s big, huge really. But he collapsed on his side which makes things easier. You hook an arm around one of his and the other around a leg. It takes a lot and it's a staring but you manage to lift him on your shoulders. If your father can hold up the sky, you can surely carry this brick house of a man back to the bed on the porch.

You step into the house while fireman carrying him to the screened-in porch to lay him down on the daybed. You place him carefully in the soft, green covers and he whines softly. “You’re gonna be just fine,” you reassure gently. Your back porch was reserved for growing herbs, arts and crafts, summer sleep, and it occasionally became a makeshift infirmary when visitors came to you injured and in need of patching up. It happened once every few centuries…

You grabbed some fabric scissors and cut away his shirt to reveal what had been ailing him. You hoped for a broken rib, those were easy to heal with a careful dose of leaf from the widows bone flower and some angel root. But what lay beneath was worse than imagined. A deep gash in his side had tried to close over and heal but it’s irritated, angry. The wound is oozing a sickly yellow pus and iridescent ichor. The skin around it is red with infection. This is one of the worst you’d been brought with. You touch his head, it’s hot and sticky with sweat. This wasn’t good. “Wait here, okay?” You grab a clump of angel root and take it back inside to the kitchen, setting it in a pot of water to boil. You grab a cloth and wet it under the sink in cold water.

You place it on his forehead and sit on the bed beside him. His face was relaxed and he was even more beautiful now. You brush the hair from his eyes and smile down at him, there was something familiar about him… like you’d met before. Though no one could return to Ogygia.

You lean down to where you can speak over his heart in a language that cannot be written or replicated... But the meaning of the words would go something like:

You are healing

You are youthful and strong

Your heart knows how to heal because it is made of love

Pure love can heal anything

You are healing now

You repeat this chant until you hear his breath deepen and watch the cut sooth. It’s a small enchantment but it has done its job. Sure, you’re no Circe, or her brethren, but you’re an enchantress all the same.

You rush back inside and grab the angel root, that's now wet and flexible from being submerged in water. You lay it across his wound before wrapping it carefully. “There now, wait here and I’m going to get you some nectar to drink,” He doesn't respond but his face is relaxed, less anguished, less in pain. You sigh in relief, hopefully that will be enough to close the wound in a day or so, else he will need to be stitched up.

You return with a small bottle of nectar and a dropper to feed him with. You coax his jaw to relax with your hand before dropping the nectar slowly onto his tongue. “You heroes are an awful lot of trouble… you know that?” You continue to feed him slowly so he won’t choke. You sigh in relief as the colour returns back to his face. He’s so beautiful he’s almost glowing, you start to reach for him, to brush the hair from his eyes but you stop yourself and turn away. “No, no love this time, remember?” you say to your reflection in the glass of the windows.

His eyes flutter open with long slow blinks. You watch as they focus on you. He blinks again. “Elyssium,” he breathes and you can’t help but chuckle. “No, Ogygia,” you correct gently. “I’m Eijirou,” he smiles. You laugh again. “No no, this island, where you are is called Ogygia, you aren’t dead,” you assure. He blinks up at you still and you curse the gods for creating him to be so breathtaking. “And what are you called?” he asks. He attempts to sit up but finds it difficult. You place your hand on his head, it’s warm and you can feel his brow relax against your palm. “You’re much better now, but just take your time…” His hands touch his torso and then move to his head. “You healed me?” You nod, “I’ll have to sew this one the rest of the way, it was quite deep.” He circles his hand around your arm, his thumb stroking soft circles. “Thank you, goddess,” he murmurs. You pull away, his touch sending lightning down into your fingertips. You don't remember the last time you had a visitor on this island of yours… but none of the previous visitors seemed to matter anymore, even though each one had stolen your heart some way or another. But no- no love, not this time, not now, not again… It hurt, but you suppressed the feelings of desire and brushed your hands down the front of your robe. “It’s nothing, but for the love of the lethe, stop calling me goddess. Kalypso is fine, just Kalypso.”

He grabs your hand as you turn to leave, “thank you... Kalypso, thank you for saving my life.” In all the years you had been saddled with this curse, it was rare for the visitor to say your name... and none of them, had said your name quite like that.

You pull your hand from his grasp and make sure not to look back, even though you want to. “You’re welcome,” you answer simply, “I’ll uhh- get you some water.”

to be added to the taglist

#kirishima #bnha #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #kirishima x you #kiri #eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bnharem #bnharem collab #august collab

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archived-kin · 3 years

Text

diluc ragnvindr and the secret spouse

note from kin: i was running around dawn winery looking for any chests i might have missed when this idea suddenly popped into my head. honestly i was tempted to do this similarly to the obey me solomon piece i did a while back and give diluc a husband but then i figured i should probably keep it gender neutral for both the girls and the gays

this is super short but i’ve had writer’s block for AGES so at least i got something out! i hope this isn’t so awful it burns your eyes out :,) i tried my best okay

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, diluc, aether, paimon

pairing(s): diluc/reader

warning(s): none

genre: fluff!!

You wake to the distant buzz of household conversation and a distinct absence of the usual presence beside you. Slightly disoriented, you sit up, rubbing at your eyes as the morning light peeking around the edge of your heavy velvet curtains casts the creases of the sheets around you into sharp definition.

A still-steaming mug sits on the bedside table, indicating that it hasn’t been long since your dear husband got up and made you your usual morning cup of tea. There’s a little red flower sitting on the saucer - a Windwheel Aster, which, if the flower language the two of you have developed over time still stands true, means that he’s still at home. He’d have left a Snapdragon if he was going out, a Calla Lily if he’d be gone for the day, or a Cecilia if he’d be away for an extended period of time. Of course, he tells you these things in person when he gets the chance, but, well - duty calls, and duty certainly doesn’t wait for a sensible wake-up time.

You throw your arms up and stretch, limbs trembling slightly as all the knots and cramps that have built up throughout the night finally straighten out. Windwheel Asters usually herald a good day in your household - though with Diluc, they can become Snapdragons and then Calla Lilies in the blink of an eye - and you’re looking forward to spending some time with your husband. It’s been a busy week for the both of you, what with an unexpected increase in the number of Abyss Order attacks cropping up around Mondstadt as well as several sudden unexplained deaths of hunters from Springfield, and you’d really like to have twenty four hours to just relax.

Diluc’s usual coat is still draped over the chair beside the desk, so, after a moment’s thought, you pull it on over your nightclothes. You have the weekend off, anyway - all your pending cases have been essentially solved and are ready to go - so you don’t see any need for donning your usual detective garb, though you do feel tempted to put on your trademark scarf to ward off the morning chill.

You take a few minutes to make the bed and open the curtains before you sit down in the armchair by the window to enjoy your tea. You can see several of the usual workers milling about between the grapevines, as well as what looks like a carrier balloon being docked just by the road. That’s new - deliveries to Dawn Winery usually come by carriage, but then again, the fact that the balloon also appears to be smoking extensively and is being accompanied by a very dishevelled-looking man who looks close to tears indicates that this probably isn’t a delivery,

On further inspection, you realise that your husband is standing nearby the smoking balloon, conversing with a young man with long golden hair tied back in a braid that you’re not particularly familiar with. You’re sure you recognise him from somewhere, though - in the same way that you might recognise the general composition of a painting you’ve seen in passing.

You don’t have time to continue contemplating the boy’s identity, though, because next thing you know, Diluc is leading him inside. You drain the remainder of your tea to the dregs with one gulp and pull yourself to your feet, resolving to go down to greet the two.

While you don’t bother with changing into something more formal, you do take a moment to wash your face and freshen up your breath with some of the mint-water Diluc keeps in the bathroom. You’re not fussed about keeping up a ‘respectable’ image, but you do at least want to be presentable.

Diluc is sitting with his back to you when you slip into the front room, still dressed in just your nightclothes and his overcoat, now with your feet tucked into a comfortable pair of slippers as well. The boy he’d invited in is the first to notice you, looking up from the map in his hands and face steeling slightly as he registers your presence.

An odd little fairy of some kind is bobbing about behind him, chewing on what looks like a large slice of cake. Her eyes widen to the size of saucers as she spots you, exclaiming so loudly that she sprays crumbs all over her unsuspecting golden-haired companion.

“Who’s this?!” she shrieks, alarmed in an almost comically exaggerated way. Her shock sends her even higher into the air, and she threatens to hit the ceiling head-on. “Y-you don’t look like a maid!”

You raise an eyebrow, mildly amused. “That would be because I’m not a maid.”

Diluc finally turns around, eyes lighting up slightly when he sees your choice of attire. A small smile curls at the corners of his lips as he moves to the side, leaving enough room on his seat for you to settle down beside him.

His young friend’s eyes dart between the two of you rapidly as Diluc continues droning on about something to do with transport balloons and the influx of monster activity in the area without a word as to your sudden appearance. He’s certainly quick-witted, you’ll give him that - he seems to deduce your relationship almost immediately.

Still, he asks about it in a polite and roundabout way - bless the boy. You can imagine that he’s a little afraid of making assumptions, especially about a man like Diluc.

“Is that your coat, Master Diluc?”

Diluc pauses in the middle of his explanation, eyebrows lifting slightly. You don’t know why he seems so surprised by the boy’s question - after all, the impression of the prideful Darknight Hero he has probably doesn’t incline him to think of him as a relationship-y sort of man.

“...yes.” He says finally. You don’t miss the way he steals a glance at you through the messy fringe of his red hair.

“Why so surprised?” You chime in, smiling at the boy as he straightens up slightly at the sound of your voice. “Surely you’ve deduced our relation already?”

He looks thoughtful for a moment. “Are you two… partners?”

You laugh. “Well, you could certainly put it like that.”

“You’re so clueless, Aether!” complains the boy’s fairy companion. “They’re obviously dating or something!”

Aether shoots her an unimpressed look. “That’s what I meant, Paimon.”

“Your name’s Aether, then?” You note. He nods. “Good name, Aether. You seem like a smart boy.”

“Hey!” The fairy glares at you, but it doesn’t really have much effect when she’s got the face of a baby lamb and crumbs still decorating her lower face to boot. “Don’t forget about Paimon!”

“Paimon’s a lovely name too,” You comply with a smile. “Very trustworthy.”

She looks appeased by the compliment, crossing her arms with a smug grin aimed at her taller companion. “See? Paimon’s trustworthy.”

“I heard them, Paimon,” sighs Aether, wearing the kind of expression that tells you he has to put up with this sort of thing a lot.

“What are you doing up so early?” Diluc asks you, and you start slightly at his sudden question. “Normally you sleep til noon on Sundays.”

You shrug and give his thigh a firm pat, taking great enjoyment in the way his ears flame up slightly at the gesture. “Guess I just missed your lovely face.”

The red of his ears darkens. “...you’re ridiculous.”

“You’re cute,” you counter with a smile, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose. He chuckles in spite of himself, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a smile that he rarely lets anyone but you see.

“You’re both gross,” Paimon decides with a pout, and the two of you suddenly remember the presence of the two other people in the room. Aether is pointedly staring at a painting on the wall, but at Paimon’s words, he hurriedly turns back.

“No, no, it’s fine,” You laugh, waving off Aether’s apologies for his fairy friend’s comment. “The maids often say the same thing.”

“The maids wouldn’t say such things if you didn’t insist on being so affectionate everywhere,” Diluc comments, though the smile still tugging at his lips tells you that he definitely doesn’t consider that a bad thing. “If you don’t want them to talk, perhaps you should take it down a notch or two.”

“Who said I didn’t want them to talk?” You counter, inching closer to him again. You'll refrain from kissing him right in front of Aether and Paimon, but that doesn’t mean you can’t tease him a little. “Besides, you’re one to talk. You’re the one always hanging off my shoulders whenever you get the chance.”

Diluc, however, doesn’t seem to have the same qualms as you about abstaining from affection in front of guests. His smile widening almost playfully, he gently lifts a hand to your chin. “Oh? Are you complaining?”

“Who said that?” is your response, and you lean in and kiss him.

It isn’t until the two of you pull away that you realise that Paimon has started making gagging noises as Aether frantically tries to shush her, all the while determinedly refusing to look in your direction. You almost feel bad for the kid - he clearly isn’t the best with affectionate couples.

“Sorry, sorry,” You say airily, moving away from Diluc, though you keep a hand resting on his knee.

“Is this what all married couples are like?” Paimon says, still wrinkling her nose in disgust. “If so, Paimon doesn’t want to get married, ever!”

Aether, still avoiding direct eye contact with both you and your husband, mutters an exasperated, “Bold of you to assume anyone would want to marry you.”

She immediately kicks him in the head, nearly knocking the poor guy right off the sofa. “Paimon heard that!”

“What a rowdy pair,” You comment cheerfully as Aether retaliates by flicking Paimon hard in the head, sending her spiralling halfway across the room with an indignant yelp. “You really do make strange friends, Diluc.”

He makes an odd chuffing sound in response to your words. “They aren’t any stranger than you.”

You shake your head. “You still married this strange detective, didn’t you?”

“I suppose I did,” He smiles softly again, setting his right hand over the one you have on his knee. “I wonder if I made the right decision?”

You give his knee a reproachful pinch and he gives short, sharp laugh in response - something that you don’t hear nearly enough from him. “Of course you did!”

You move to jab him in the sides, knowing exactly where all of his sensitive spots are, but he stops you quickly, seizing both your hands in his and firmly refusing to let go. You struggle for about a second before giving up and slumping against him with a dramatic huff.

“You’re too strong,” You complain, though your affectionate nuzzle into the side of his neck directly contradicts your pseudo-annoyed words. “I don’t like it.”

Diluc chuckles, knowing full well that you love the fact that he can lift entire tables without breaking a sweat. “Whatever you say, darling.”

The look that you give him as you raise your head nearly knocks all of the breath out of him. The adoring grin on your face doesn’t relent as you lift a hand and brush his cheek, your touch feather-light and sending shivers down his spine.

He finds himself leaning in again, overwhelmed by your presence. You smile knowingly and reach up to meet him - only to be interrupted with a start.

Paimon complains, half-disgusted and half-resigned, “They’re doing it again!”

#unedited #genshin impact #genshin diluc #genshin aether #genshin paimon #diluc x reader #fluff #looking back on what i've written so far i've come to the conclusion that i just really like domestic fluff #short n sweet #diluc is a SAP #i haven't posted any writing for a while now sorry #hopefully this isn't awful haha #reader insert #gender neutral reader #funny that both of my genshin impact pieces so far are about diluc and he isn't even my favourite #i guess he just has a lot of romantic writing potential #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader

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aggravatetheaxe · 3 years

Text

BO SINCLAIR X TRANS MAN / MAN ALIGNED READER COMING OUT - Pt. 1 - Under Your Skin

This title is SAFE FOR WORK. Pt. 2, Over the Moon, will be NSFW. I'll link that here when it's written!

You met Bo while you were still presenting as a woman. Suffice to say things have changed, and you can't keep your secret from him any longer. You have no choice but to tell him or leave ... but what if he makes you leave anyway?

CW: descriptions of dysphoria that get very intense, deadnaming/misgendering, mentions of murder and mortal peril, it's 2005 and Bo is from the south so just be advised it's not all fluff and rainbows (but there is payoff, this isn't straight angst, it's just a journey)

Soundtrack: x

Words: 4,175

Part Two

Masterlist

***

Your shoulders were stiff. Your throat was dry. Your leg was bouncing, the only thing you could do to release the nervous energy juttering through your body.

You were going to tell him.

You'd put it off for months now, not quite sure how to say the words. Then, when you'd arranged them in your head, fear had kept you from saying them out loud. But you couldn't wait anymore. You couldn't live like this any longer.

You'd been hiding the secret for too long. Every time Bo called you by your birth name or made some quip about you being his girl, your heart shriveled just a little more. It had gotten to the point where you didn't even want compliments from him ... you didn't want to talk. You didn't even really want to sleep with him, didn't like to think about him looking at you as a woman during sex.

He didn't know, of course. But that almost made it worse. He couldn't stop hurting you and you couldn't yell at him for it. It was always the same: you lost control, you got frustrated, wouldn't tell him why, he'd get frustrated, you'd fight ... it was a mess. You knew all that was putting a strain on your relationship.

So it had to be tonight.

It had to be tonight.

You had everything planned. You'd already gone into town with Lester and picked up some stuff for a nice dinner; there was a fresh, cold six-pack of Bud in the fridge; and Rocky III was sitting in the VHS player, ready to go. Once he was relaxed, you'd talk to him.

You'd convinced yourself so fully that you'd stick to the plan that when you heard his truck pull up and your heart leapt into your throat, you nearly cried. Fuck, not again. Not another night. You were supposed to be stronger than this.

Stomping boots on the porch. You heard the door swing open from the kitchen. "I'm home."

He didn't sound like he was in a particularly good mood, but it didn't sound like a bad one, either. That was good news, at least. Things must have gone okay down at the shop. "I'm in here!" you called back.

Bo appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, tracking a little gravel into the house as always. He leaned against the doorframe with one hand on his hip, gesturing with his chin. "Hey, sugar. What you got there?"

You looked down at the meal you were plating. "I thought I'd try a pot roast? I dunno. I don't think it came out very good, but I guess we'll see."

He didn't say anything. You glanced over your tense shoulder to see him simply staring at you, like he was trying to read your thoughts. You could sense the gears in his head turning behind those clever blue eyes of his. He knew there was something wrong; you were guarded.

For a moment, you thought he might say something. That familiar little bit of irritation was beginning to creep into his face, right around his neck and jaw. But after a few seconds, he simply said, "A'right," and straightened. "M'gonna go change."

"'Kay." As he stomped up the stairs, you finished getting the food ready and brought the plates to the living room. Bo usually ate at the table—"I ain't a savage"—but you could tell he liked eating on the couch. It was like a special treat. And clearly, you were short on charm at the moment, so you'd have to use your environment to your advantage.

You pulled up two tray tables and set the food down, then fetched the beer. By the time everything was set up, Bo was coming back down the stairs.

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to look at him. He was wearing jeans and a red flannel, sleeves rolled up. At this point, he didn't care about you seeing his scars. You hardly noticed them anymore.

He came closer and slowed to a stop, forehead wrinkling as he eyed your set-up. "What's all this about?"

"I was thinking dinner and a movie." You paused. "I thought Rocky might get the taste of my cooking out of your mouth."

You succeeded in making him laugh a little, crow's feet crinkling, but as he took a step closer, his smile faded. "Did you do somethin'? Is somethin' broken?" He glanced quickly, running his gaze over the clutter his parents had left behind.

"Nothing's wrong," you reassured him quickly, stepping back into his line of sight in the hopes of distracting him. "I just thought, you know, we could have a nice night. Like ... romantic?"

He stared at you for a moment. Then, his gaze lit, a toothy smile appearing. "Romantic, huh? Well hell, sweetie, why didn't ya say so?"

He clearly thought you meant sex. In fact, the way he was looking at you, you thought he'd jump you right up against the pool table if you let him. Your dysphoria made sex so unbearable that you'd been avoiding it when you could lately, and you were sure he missed it.

You were lucky he hadn't gotten mean yet. You guessed that was a testament to how much he must like you. But who knew if he'd like you after tonight?

Quickly, you shoved a beer into his hand, redirecting his attention as you slid onto the couch and clicked play. He slid into place beside you, relaxing back with his legs spread.

You both picked at your food—you because you were way too nervous to eat, and him because ... well, you assumed it was because he was waiting for you to initiate the "romance." He did eventually finish his meal, though, complimenting you with one of his "So good, baby"s and a boozy kiss.

The movie droned on, and eventually, he wrapped an arm around you. As he did, you relaxed, if only a little. You wanted to settle into him ... you wanted it more than anything in the world. You did love him. But who did he love? The woman he thought he was putting his arm around wasn't you.

"What's wrong?" His tone was firm and sudden after such a long stretch of silence.

You blinked at him. "Nothing."

He wasn't buying it, and he didn't look impressed. "There's no point in lyin'a me, darlin'. I know when somethin' ain't right." Then, with a little edge to his voice, "You know I get pissed when you brush me off."

"I'm just..." You sighed, setting your beer aside and rubbing your forehead. "I'm just tired, that's all."

"Let's go to bed, then." In one fluid motion, he stood and turned off the TV. "Hope you're not too tired," he added quietly.

It was equal parts insult, warning, and come-on, and it exhausted you as much as it panicked you. You weren't ready to tell him just yet. You'd figured you still had a few hours, but ... well, if you pissed him off now, all this nice set-dressing had been for nothing. Then you'd either have to tell him while he was in a bad mood or spend another night as someone you weren't.

Biting back a sigh, you stood, too. He was waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, and let you go up first.

"Nice view from back here," he said smoothly. "Almost wanna tell you to start runnin'."

Shit. You needed an excuse to buy yourself a little time. "Can you shower first?"

You knew the question ticked him off because he didn't answer it. He followed you to your shared room, grabbed a towel, and left for the bathroom in heated silence.

The shower would make him feel better. It always did. He'd scald himself like he liked, then come out much calmer. Hopefully. You changed and took your place in bed, sitting under the blankets with your pillow propping you up. Waiting.

You were wrong about the calm. When he came back into the bedroom—red-skinned and completely naked, towel occupied in his hair—he was scowling at the floor. You waited for him to yell. It was inevitable.

When he did finally say something, his tone was quieter than you imagined, though simmering. "Why are you doin' this to me?"

You didn't respond, mostly because you had no idea which this he was talking about.

"Hurts my pride, y'know." He began toweling his body. Rather roughly, you noticed. "My girl don't wanna fuck me. You know how that feels as a man? You think I wanna have to— hurt you?"

A pause. "Bo..."

"Am I gonna have to get it somewhere else? Fuck, Deadname."

You shrank in bed. That name made you feel rotten to the core. It was like poison slowly choking your veins. You had to do this ... but you couldn't. But you had to.

Bo was unaware of the war going on inside of you as he turned, leaning against the dresser, arms back to clutch the edge. "Is it someone else?" You could tell he was murderous just thinking about that possibility, gaze aflame, jaw clenched so hard you thought he might break teeth. "Is it Vincent?"

"What? No!" Why he'd think that when you'd only ever expressed mild concern for Vincent's well-being, you had no idea. "There's no one else, Bo, I just—"

"Then what's a matter with you, huh?" He raised his voice. "Am I too rough, am I too— Jesus Christ, you gotta at least tell me what the damage is!"

Your conflicting emotions threatened to overwhelm you. You yelled back, "It's not you!"

"Then what the hell is it?!"

"It's me!"

He opened his mouth to shout back, but only managed, "What in the f—" before he lost steam, searching your face helplessly. Something about the way you looked must have given him pause. You meant what you said. Desperately, desperately. It was you. You were the problem.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low, glare pointed. "You been off all night. Hell"—one of those incredulous laughs that betrayed his genuine anger—"you been off for a while. Least you can do is tell me what the fuck is goin' on."

He was right. No turning back now. You took a deep, grounding breath. "Okay."

A moment of hesitation. Did you want him close or across the room like that, just in case? Eventually, you decided you needed him close. You patted the bed beside you.

Bo grabbed a pair of boxer-briefs, stepping into them on his way over. His expression was still twisted sourly, but you could sense him relax as he sat in bed next to you. He didn't meet your eye, simply looking down at the sheets. Beneath the anger, a begrudging expectation simmered. Did he think you were going to break things off?

That thought spurred you into taking his hand, squeezing lightly. "I love you so fucking much."

He glanced to the side. At length, he mumbled, "You, too."

You took another deep breath, trying to keep your voice from shaking. "There's something I haven't told you about me. And it's really been stressing me out lately. That's why I've been acting so weird." When he didn't reply, you continued, "It's been making it ... hard to be close to you. I don't like the way lying to you makes me feel, and I've been ... scared, so fucking scared, Bo."

He glanced at you again, brows drawn, this time with confusion rather than anger. "So what is it? What the hell can be so big an' important that you can't stand bein' around me?" A pause. "I mean shit, Deadname, you know I kill people for a livin'. My fucked up twin turns 'em into wax. You know about the fuckin' dungeon—what could be bigger'n that?"

That fucking name. You couldn't take it anymore. Your voice cracked as you whispered, "You need to stop calling me Deadname."

"What? Why?" He frowned deeply. "That's your name, ain't it?"

"It's not the name I want to be called."

You could almost hear the gears in his head turning as he tried to figure out what was going on. "Okay ... so it ain't your real name. Why you goin' around using a fake name?" His gaze turned flinty and cold. "You're a cop."

"No!" You held up your hands. "No, I didn't lie about who I was, not ... not in the way you're thinking. I was born with that name; everything I've told you about my life and where I came from, all those things were true. I never lied about any of that."

"Then what is it?" He was getting angry again. "Spit it out!"

Well, since he asked... "I don't want to use that name because ... it's a woman's name. And I'm not a woman. I'm a man."

Bo stared for a few seconds, then scanned you up and down once. His shoulders slumped, just slightly. "You were ... born a man? Then how come your name—"

"No, no." You pursed your lips, taking his hand hesitantly again. "I was ... I guess for simplicity's sake you could say I was born a girl. I was born with a vagina, I developed breasts and started my period naturally. But I'm not a girl. Like, in my head. In my brain, I'm actually a man."

He didn't believe you. You could see it in his face. But you weren't planning on giving up that easily. You knew what he'd be thinking; you'd planned this whole thing out so carefully, chosen your words so precisely.

"It's not ... a delusion or anything. It's actually more common than people think. It's called being transgender. When you're born one gender but you want to be another."

He frowned, obviously completely lost. He wasn't getting it. He just didn't fucking understand. And you were growing desperate.

"Bo." Your throat was raw, tears threatening your eyes. "Every time you call me your girl, or you refer to me as a woman, or you use that name ... I fucking hate it. It hurts. It hurts so goddamn bad to know you're not seeing the real me. It makes me not see the real me. I look in the mirror and I just want to ... tear my skin off. Sometimes I just wanna take a knife and— and fix me. Cut out whatever part of me makes it hurt so bad. I just want to be seen as who I am so bad."

"Okay." You didn't like the way he was looking at you, but the anguish in your voice had at least moved him to speak. You could see in his eyes that he was working overtime to puzzle this out. "So, what? What're you gonna do? What's it mean for us?"

"Well..." You had to break eye contact, staring down at his hand. "What I'd like to do is start living as a man. You know, dressing like a man—which I already pretty much do—going by a different name, maybe cutting my hair. You could call me 'he' ... I might even get medicine later on down the line, like hormones, to make me look squarer. Maybe even surgery."

"You gonna get a dick?" The almost mocking tone of his voice made you want to shrivel up and die. He seemed to pick up on the change in your body immediately and shifted his tone. "I'm askin'."

"No, that's not a thing. But I'm gonna be a man regardless." Finally, you released his hand, though you still couldn't look at him. "What that means for us is ... up to you, I guess. It'd mean you were dating a guy. I mean, you have been this whole time—"

"I didn't fucking know," he cut in firmly.

A jolt of fear lanced your heart. "I know. That's my fault; I didn't tell you. I was ... scared."

"Scared of what?" he pressed, tone growing aggressive.

"I don't know. Of you being mad. Or not loving me anymore." You glanced up. "I love you. Seriously, I do. More than anything. I still want to be with you, just ... as a man."

There was silence. A horrible, stretching, heavy silence that made you want to hang your head and cry. After a while, Bo rose from bed, going to the dresser and pulling on jeans and a T-shirt, all in that silence.

Was he ... leaving you? No, he wouldn't leave his own house, he'd make you leave. Or kill you. But he certainly wasn't opening his arms to you. Waves of sadness crashed over your chest, so intense you thought you'd throw up.

He seemed to contemplate the dresser for an extended period. Then, he glanced over his shoulder, just barely. "I need ta' think."

And with that, he was out the door. He didn't come back to bed that night. The next morning, you found his pillow on the couch.

***

Vincent was next on your list of people to tell. It turned out he was a big help, bigger than you could have ever realized he would be. You had to explain yourself, but he took it in stride, calling you by your new chosen name and even helping you come up with a sign for it.

« Did you tell Bo? » he eventually asked you.

"I told him last night." Your eyes were still puffy and red from your night alone, and the morning following it. You still hadn't seen him, but you could hear music blaring from the garage, so you at least knew where he was.

« How did he take it? »

"He isn't speaking to me."

Vincent paused. His wax face was blank as always, but you could tell he was considering something. « Did he yell? »

"No ... he just said he would think about it."

A low grunt, and Vincent nodded. « Then let him think. »

And he did think. He thought about it every night from then on. You could see him thinking during meal times, when you brought him lunch down at the shop, when he was watching TV. You noticed him zoning out in the middle of reading sometimes: paperback crunched and folded in one hand, other hand pressed to his grim mouth, those blue eyes glassy and staring at nothing. Thinking.

He hardly ever spoke to you outside of necessary communication. Before bed, he told you goodnight, but it was ... heavy. He didn't roll over to touch you or hold you anymore. The distance was yawning and heartbreaking, especially when you were alone. The silence was so pregnant with unsaid words and all his damn thoughts.

You wanted to ask if he was mad, but you didn't dare. He didn't seem mad, and you knew a thing or two about his moods. This seemed ... different. So you simply didn't say anything.

And then, one day...

"Hey, handsome."

His voice practically made you jump out of your skin. You, Vincent, and Bo—and sometimes Lester—divided who would have to go into the houses in Ambrose to dust and clean, and today was your day. He'd snuck up on you in the middle of oiling some of the rigs like he'd taught you.

"Uh. Hey." You managed a hasty smile, uncertain you'd actually heard him call you what you thought he had. "What're you doing here?" After a week of him barely speaking to you, it seemed odd that he'd start now.

Bo took a few steps in, looking away and reaching to fiddle with a knick-knack on a nearby side table. "Just thought I'd come check up on you. You are my, uh ... boyfriend, after all."

You stopped dead in the middle of spraying WD-40, staring over your shoulder. What?

When he felt you staring, he lifted his gaze. There was an uncertainty there, discomfort, along with a challenge. "What?"

"Nothing." You turned back to your work. After a few seconds, you added, "Thank you."

He didn't respond, but he eventually sidled up to you, surveying your work. "Not half bad. Yeah, you're doin' real good." He reached up to adjust his hat, and you could feel his gaze on you. "We'll make a man outta you yet."

You couldn't help it—your face burned. "Girls can maintain machinery, too, Bo."

"Yeah, I know that, but you—" An edge of irritation entered his voice. "Now you're just confusin' me."

You set down the WD-40 and turned, searching his face. By god, he really was trying, wasn't he? It was almost cute how bad he was at it, but he was trying. Vincent had been right.

"You never asked my name," you eventually muttered.

"Vincent told me it. Y/N." He said it again, rolling it around on his tongue. "Y/N ... in'erestin' choice. I guess it suits ya." A pause, and he lowered his voice. "Gonna take me some gettin' used to."

"That's okay," you said quickly. "As long as you're trying."

"Yeah, well..." Bo paused before reaching out, brushing his fingers through your hair. "Gonna miss all this."

You leaned into his hand. "I might not cut it. I haven't decided yet."

He grunted, continuing to brush his fingers through your hair. You could see his expression drift back to that thoughtfulness you'd gotten used to seeing. Eventually, he said, "Guess this makes me gay."

He sounded so begrudging and yet so decisive that you almost laughed in his face. Thankfully, you were able to bite back your reaction. "You don't have to be. You can be whatever you want. But ... if you stayed with me, it would mean you were attracted to at least one man, yeah."

"Fine." He pursed his lips, huffing through his nose. "Bi-sexual or whatever."

"You don't have to put a label on it right now. You've got time." You hesitated before taking his large hands in yours, bringing them to cup your jaw. "This ... you know ... it isn't something that has to happen overnight. I'm not asking that. It's a process for both of us ... a lot to get used to for both of us."

"Sure the hell is." He scoffed and shoved his hat up his forehead, scratching his hairline. "Now I want you to tell me somethin'. Why were you so damn scared of tellin' me?"

You took a breath. "I mean ... Bo."

"What?"

"I'm in the south ... alone, no family ... in a town where you could kill me if I pissed you off and no one would ever know." He made a face, but you pressed: "You know where I come from. Things are dangerous there, and things around here are even—"

"You think just 'cause you're in the country folks are gonna treat you different?" He sounded offended.

"Bo," you said again. "Let's not kid ourselves. How many guys do you know who would beat my ass if they found out? If they found out I liked other men, even."

"Couple assholes. But they ain't gonna bother you with me around. B'sides, plenty a' gays around here, like any other place ... they're just drillin' and weldin' and workin' the factories." He fixed you with a look. "Country don't mean stupid."

"Did you just quote The Stand?"

"No," he said hastily, taking his hat off and shoving it in the back pocket of his Dickies. "All I'm sayin' is ... I'm not some dumb animal."

Your shoulders sank, heart softening. "I know you're not, baby. But you have been known to, y'know, murder people. You can understand why I was scared, can't you?"

His mouth twitched, but reluctantly, he mumbled, "Yeah, I guess." A pause. "I can't promise I won't never hurt you, Deadn— Y/N. I know I can be real careless with my words on occasion. But I won't kill ya. Don' know if I could reconcile that shame. And, uh ... I love you."

Your heart swelled, and you leaned forward, hugging him tightly around the middle. It wasn't long until you felt his strong, warm arms enfold you in return, one hand tangling in your hair. His heartbeat was steady and comforting beneath your head, and the heat radiating from him relaxed every muscle in your body.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, hugging tightly while the TV droned in the background. Eventually, he shifted and spoke, his voice rumbling deliciously against you.

"Now if you don't mind," Bo started casually before dropping into a purr, "I'd like a kiss from my handsome lover."

You couldn't help but grin up at him. "You sure?"

"Lay it on me, big boy."

Maybe you were evil for loving him despite it all. Maybe you were complicit. Those weren't your judgments to make. But as you craned your neck to kiss him and euphoria exploded through your chest, you knew one thing for certain:

You were you.

***

Part Two

Masterlist

Tip Jar

#bo sinclair imagine #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #house of wax 2005 #slasher fic #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher imagine #written #vincent sinclair

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

Could I request a Javi x reader fic? Javi and fem!reader are in a secret but established relationship and are at the formal DEA Christmas party when from across the room Javi sees reader politely talking to some bigwig who then makes a physical advance on her?

Sorry this is a little late, but enjoy! 🥰 I am ever so soft for some protective Javi! 🥺

Javier x Fem!Reader; warnings: language

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

His eyes were practically glued to you as he watched you flit around the room, looking more gorgeous than anyone should, and saying hello to everyone with a big smile. Gods, that smile - it was enough to thaw his icy heart and bring him to his knees. Javier bowed to no one, but he would always kneel for you.

You were wearing a strappy, low cut red dress, a new number he noted, that clung to your curves in all the right places, leaving just enough to the imagination. As much as he liked the outside, he couldn't wait to unwrap his present soon and get to the real treasure. And you had definitely made sure that the underneath was just as good, if not better than the outside. But that part was for him, and him only.

You had moaned and groaned about the annual Christmas party all afternoon, wanting nothing more than a quiet evening spent with him and Steve and Connie drinking and fucking around. But if you were irritated about being there, it didn't show. Your laughter was infectious as you pulled everyone around you into your orbit. It was hard not to; even Javier had fallen for you in about 10 seconds, despite what he claimed; the fact that you both ended up in bed together after your first day was another story. One that he wouldn’t ever let you forget. You hadn’t been keen on him after your first introduction, but somehow something had pulled you to him and the rest was...history. Passionate history, but you loved it - him - nonetheless.

Of course, no one could know. Besides Steve and Connie, but they could be trusted unlike everyone else, so only the lot of you knew your dirty little secret. One day, Javi always promised, one he'd tell the world you were his girl, but not right now. Soon.

It was always soon. You hoped it would come sooner rather than later, but you didn't mind - Javier was worth the wait.

He let out a heavy sigh as he downed the rest of his champagne, quickly finishing off the sticky, sweet over-hyped bane of his existence. It was Christmas Eve for fuck's sake, he should be home with you, getting lost in your touch, your taste, everything. Not dealing with this bullshit.

Almost as if one cue, you looked over and met his eyes, shooting him a quick wink, almost as if to say - soon, soon, soon.

Soon.

Another hour or two before you could both leave separately and then meet outside before going back to his place.

He gave you a soft nod before zoning back to his own conversation. Being the protective not so secret- secret boyfriend he was, his attention went back to you every few seconds. Luckily, it didn't take much to be a part of his current conversation, only having to provide a soft yes or no or nod of the head once in a while.

Meanwhile, you were the star of the show, going from person to person as you made small talk with everyone. It was already starting to wear on you, but the champagne buzz was a delicious sweet thing that kept you going.

As you finished off your rounds, ready to run back to Javi, a particularly boisterous member of the FBI found you. He was always a little louder, a little more brash than the others, but for the most part he usually left you alone, which was fine by you. Except today.

Put a few drinks in him and he was a walking, talking disaster and you were the object of this desire.

You cursed yourself for wearing this damned dress and not opting for something more subtle. But you loved it and had wanted to surprise Javi with it and his expression when he had first laid eyes on you was worth it. He'd been dumbfounded, immediately stopping in the middle of a sentence as he drank you in, before that little smirk crossed his features. The devil gives and the devil takes, you supposed - except right now.

Shit. When had he put his hand on your back? His hand that seemed to be sliding lower and lower and then -

"You better watch where you put your fucking hands," Javi's voice was low and dangerous, akin to a predator ready to talk down his prey as he was instantaneously at your side, “or I’ll break every bone in your body.”

The man’s eyes widened as he took one look at the livid expression on Javier’s face, his eyes dark and primal as his chest heaved with anger. He removed his hands from you and held them up in defense, “hey buddy, we were just talking. Nothing happened.”

“Just talking, huh?” his arm snaked around your waist as he pulled you into his side and narrowed his eyes, “I know you - I know all about you. If I ever see you do the same to anyone else - I’ll ruin you, I’ll ruin your entire fucking life. Now get out of here and never come near my girl again.”

The man’s eyes widened in horror as all he could was nod before rushing away and quickly exiting the party. He garnered a few looks that eventually led back to you and Javier, but he didn’t bother to remove himself from you. He didn’t care anymore, if they found out about the two of they - fuck it- they found out. They weren’t really going to break up the three of you, not when you were this close, not when things were going well.

“You okay, dulzura?” Javier turned to you with a concerned expression on his face, his hands find your face to look your eyes. You put your hands on his wrists and nodded, letting out a heavy sigh, “he didn’t do anything else?”

“I’m okay,” you promised softly, “you came just in time, mi amor. Thank you.”

He let a soft sigh of thankful relief before gently pressing a kiss to your forehead. It was then that you noticed a few people around offering up curious expressions. Javi seemed to be able to read your mind as he shook his head, reaching down and grabbing your hand before lacing your fingers together, “it doesn’t matter, they can all know. I don’t care - I only care about you.”

“Yeah?” you asked as you looked at your entwined hands. He chuckled before giving you that dopey smile that you adored - the one that made his soft eyes crinkle in the corners, “I like that.”

“I like you,” he insisted, “now let’s get out of here.”

“Yes, please, nothing sounds better,” you agreed as he started to lead you away, “besides I have a surprise for you to see.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, dulzura,” he practically groaned at the thought, “have some mercy.”

“I suppose,” you whispered in his ear as you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I love you, Javi.”

“I love you too, dulzura,” he grinned, “and now everyone else knows too.”

“About time!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #narcos #javier pena #javier pena x you

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violetnotez · 3 years

Note

hi! may i pls make a request for bokugo, todoroki and midoriya hcs on what they would do if they had to vs their secret crush in the 1v1 ua sports festival arc? i hope you have a great day!!🥺

Hi babe! Im so sorry it took so long to make these, but I literally couldn’t stop thinking about this idea cause it was so fricking cuttteeeeeeeee

I did headcannons as well as a short one shot right after, I hope thats alright! <3

Music Genre: Pop | BNHA

Characters: Bakugo, Shoto, Izuku

Warnings: cussing

Music Collection | Tip Jar | Requests!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Bakugo

This dude right here ^^^

Sorry but-hes not gonna be too kind

Bakugo most deifnitely is denying every single damn sign that he has a crush on you

He deifnitely doesn’t stare at you for way too long during class, or doesn’t smirk to himself when you got past this first round, and his heart didn’t drop to the floor when he realized he would have to fight against you

Nope, deifnitley not

😑😑😑 Bakugo stop being a shit and admit you have feelings

Kirishima was the one who first recognized his crush on you, and you know damn well he noticed Bakugo’s demeanor instantly changed when he saw your face flash against his in the versus round

When Bakugo saw that on the screen, his shoulders instantly stiffened, his eyes steeled, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets so no one could see how tightly his hands were balled up

Only Kirishima noticed the change in his best friend as his freinds cheered at the line up

“Hey-you okay dude?” He asked, his voice full of concern as he tried to place a hand on his shoulder

Of course, Bakugo being the little shit he is, shoved his hand away with his shoulder, standing up quickly

“I’m gonna go get ready for the 2nd round,” he grumbled, giving his friend a side eyed look and he turned his back on the stadium and going to the hallways to chill

Now, even though he was rudeeeeeeeee af, this dude is freaking the hell out internally

He wants to win so badly, but-at what cost? Something was different with you-he was okay with putting his all into each and every fight

If he had to hurt himself, or hurt his opponent to come out on top-that’s all that mattered right? But for some reason, the thought of hurting you made his body feel queasy and made him feel like shit-

this never happened to him, this possessive want to protect someone and keep them safe-this was such a foreign feeling that it kind of scared him

Was he getting soft? Was he not tough anymore?

He didn’t know what to do-go easy on you and potentially let you win, making him look weak? Or go all out, making sure he wins to the point that he hurts you-which would make him feel like shit after. Would you hate him after? Could he handle that idea of you despising him for hurting you?

These thoughts were making him so conflicted to the point of rage , and Bakugo being Bakugo, he was just fuming internally,

his digits were tugging at his strands, his fist colliding with the table as a curse slipped through his lips

He didn’t know what to do and it was fucking annoying to him

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ ✧･ﾟ:* ✧

“So I guess we’re paired together huh?” your voice echoed through the deathly silent room, the sound sending a cold shiver down Bakugo’s back.

He quickly looked up, his chest tightening at the mere sight of you leaning against the door frame.

“This is my fucking room-get out,” he grumbled, his crimson red eyes squinting at you at an attempt to look intimidating.

You simply rolled your eyes, a small smirk playing on your lips.

You had known Bakugo for too long and too well to get scared at his harsh words anymore.

“I don’t see your name on the door,” you quipped back with a grin, “and besides, it might be good Im in here. You’re so loud somebody’s gonna think you’re talking to yourself.”

Shit-was he really starting to talk to himself now?

Bakugo swallowed a clump of saliva, a pit growing in his stomach. If he was talking to himself-did you hear everything he had said? Did you know he was actually thinking of going soft on you?

You noticed how he stiffened at your words, a gruff exhalation of breath leaving his lips.

“Don’t worry, I was just joking around-“, You simply chuckled, shaking your head as you sat down next to him. “-but you still are really loud though.”

“And you’re still fucking annoying, as always.”

“Ouch!” You smiled, scrunching up your nose in mock hurt.

Bakugo pursed his lips, hating how cute he found you when you made that expression.

You didn’t seem to notice the way Bakugo was affected by your movement, taking a deep breath.

Something in your expression had changed-you no longer looked so carefree and relaxed. You gave him a concerned look, your teeth gnawing at the side your cheek.

“So is something on your mind? You’re usually always cussing someone out, but cussing at the air isn’t usually your thing.”

His feet shuffled under the table, his hands way more clammy than they usually were. So he really was being too loud- he needed to think of soemthing to tell you. And something realllllll fucking quick.

But he couldn’t-he felt like his was gasping for air, just staring at your waiting face. God, why did he have to actually like you like that? Now as he’s looking at you, something in his heart hurt-he couldn’t hurt you. He just-couldnt. He’d feel like a dick after and he’s never be able to forgive himself if he laid even a scratch on you.

Why was this so fucking hard?

You sighed, your tongue swiping your bottom lip as you look down at your hands.

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine,” you looked up, your eyes piercing to him and making his lungs feel shut off. “But-dont let it affect you. I want you to come at me with all you got-“

You gave him a devilish grin, your eyes sparkling.

“-I wanna rub it in your face that I actualy beat you in front of a whole ass crowd. Might be good for you ego too,” you gave out a laugh at the last sentence, Bakugo’s shoulder softening slightly.

“Tch-,” he grunted out, his crimson eyes rolling in their sockets, “-like you could ever fucking beat me.”

You gave him one final look, your eyes quitting at him with a mischievous glint.

“We’ll see about that,” you gave him one last smile, standing up from your chair.

“I’ll see ya later.”

Bakugo heard your feet walk out the room, that tell tale click of the door closing softly reverberating in the room. He let out a sigh, something about your words making him feel like a huge weight just left his shoulders.

If you wanted him to go all out-then he’d do it.

Izuku

Dude, this poor baby

He’s actually freaking out. Like HARD.

Izuku wants to win pretty badly to prove it to himself, his family, his mentor/role model...but at what cost? Hurting you?

Hahah well that’s funny cause that ain’t happening

He’s legit thinking of just going easy on you-what’s the harm in that? Sure he might lose, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt-

This dude is not very good at hiding his feelings for you, so of course Iida and Ochaco already know of this infactuation obsession Izuku has for you

They kinda have to explain to him that’d it be really really stupid to just let you beat himjust because he didn’t want to hurt you

Iida basically explained that it’d hurt the “pride and prestige quality of the games” if he didn’t “fight to his fullest” and “y/n’s honor would be incredibly diminished” as the fight “wouldn’t be fair nor honest”

Which basically translated to just fight her Midoriya

Uraraka told him that you could hold your own, and you wouldn’t ever get mad at him cause like-it’s the point for everyone to fight their all to win

So Izuku kinda took a chill pill

Until he stepped into that arena

Cause ohohoohohoh it is wayyyyy different from talking about fighting to actually doing it

He’s kinda nervous at first-cause it’s happening. He has to actually fight you like this. In front of everybody.

Damn fate really did not like him right now did it?

You come at him full force-and holy CRAP did it throw him off

But it kind of woke him up to the situation-if your going to try your best, then he felt a little bit better forcing himself to do his best as well

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t wanna scream “Sorry!” And run over to you everytime he blasts ya with OFA, but it’s all good

Your fight was a little bit longer than the others, but in the end, you lost to Izuku

You two were seriously burnt out though-you got cuts and bruises everywhere from falling (and a big ass headache), and Izuku’s arms looked like burnt fried chicken

Deku felt pride in himself, cause damn you were really strong and he actually fought you off but-he hurt you AND made you lose

Looking at your face, he feels like shit-cause of course you look really beat down knowing you won’t be advancing to the next round

His foot stumbled forward, wanting to go see if you were okay

But the teachers quickly usher you two to go see the nurses, so he just had to give you an apologetic look until he could actually talk to you

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ ✧･ﾟ:* ✧

Izuku sat on the make shift bed, every movement he made setting off a plethora of crinkling noises from the paper overlay.

Everything seemed to be okay with him-he was actually surprised to hear he wasn’t as beat up as he thought he really was. Over course, Recovery Girl scolded him for taking such a risk on his body with his quirk, but with a big smooch on his cheek he was ready to go.

He heard a click of a door opening, expecting to see Recovery Girl come hobbling over to check his vitals one last time-until he looked up and his heart stopped on his chest.

There you were, banged up and bruise, your stance favoring your right side.

You seemed to be pretty surprised to see him too-your eyes widened in shock, and your shoulders stiffened at the sight of him.

Izuku’s head was going on overdrive-how were you feeling? Where you okay? Did he hurt you that badly? did you hate him? Was he invading your space just being present?

The thoughts were coming a mile a minute, his mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish as he kept watching you with a stunned, blank expression.

To his relief, your shocked expression turned into a small smile and your eyes softened as you looked at Izuku’s shy gaze.

“Hey,” you simply said, breaking the awkward silence of the room.

Izuku quickly cleared his throat, repeating a “hey” back to you as he watched you sit down, his toes scrunching in his battered red shoes.

Guilt was bubbling in his stomach, his brows knitted in pain as you tred to sit down on a hospital bed. You were practically limping your way to sit down, the unmissable look of pain knitted in your brows.

God, he did that? To you-out of all the people in the world, you were one of the last people he would ever want to land a finger on. Of course, you had messed him up pretty badly, but it just felt strange to know he had caused you this discomfort.

“Are you-you feeling alright?” He asked quietly, his voice meek and hesitant.

You gave him another strained smile, using the table next to you to support your weight.

You weren’t going to deny it-Izuku really did a number on you. In the fight, your adrenaline was kicking in so much that the pain was barely even noticeable to you. But now that you were calm and collected, the throbbing pain that seemed to be everywhere was coming out in full force.

“Yeah, I’m doing okay-I guess,” you gave a small chuckle, trying to hide the grimace as a zap of pain pierced your bruised rib cage.

Izuku immediately noticed that look on your face, his feet touching the cold linoleum floor.

You felt hands gingerly circle around your sides, the pressure reassuring yet light, heat from another person radiating onto your back.

Midoriya was supporting your battered body, leading you to the closest bed and setting you down gingerly.

To say the feeling of Izuku holding you was making you flustered was an understatement-you were freaking the hell out. But something about him holding you was so comforting-even with him beaten up, and him being the reason you were in this portion- he still somehow was able to make you feel safe and protected.

“ ‘Zuku,” you asked, your heart thumping a mile a minute, “what are you-you doing?”

He set you down gingerly, his hands light and feathery against your skin.

“I-Uh,” He have you a sheepish grin, his cheeks red and his voice a stuttering mess from that nickname. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-to offend you, you just seemed like you were hurting...”

You tilted your head with a grin, your hand wrapping around his wrist for support.

“Don’t worry-you didn’t,”

His face light up, a warm relieved grin on his lips.

“Oh good! I was worried, cause after the whole match and everything, and you looked so hurt, I just, I don’t know, I was worried maybe you wouldnt want me around but I just didn’t want to-“

For some reason, that relief that you didn’t hate him had released the stuttering of poor Izuku, his brain going once again at a pace much to fast to comprehend.

You could barely catch a word, but you were able to stitch his thoughts together, a giggle escaping your lips.

He couldn’t be more adorable, could he?

Your heart pounded in your chest as your digits wrapping around his freckled cheeks. The sensation of your skin so close to his made his mouth stop in its tracks, his emerald eyes wide with shock.

“You really think I’d hate you ‘Zuku?”

God-he love that nickname. Your voice sent a shockwave if electricity through his body, his mind helplessly numb and in control by you.

Even with you cradling his cheeks, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you.

“I-Uh-Uh....maybe?”

Izuku heard you sigh, your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip.

He know it would look strange to anyone walking in, with him standing in between your legs and your hands wrapped against his cheeks. He knew he should move, just in case of the off chance somebody could walk in, but-he didn’t want to. He was in love with the feeling of your body so close to his, finally able to drink in every beautiful feature of your face, put every perfect sensation into his memory....it was nerve wracking yet soothing and he never wanted this moment to end.

“Deku, I could never hate you,” you smiled gingerly, your mind fighting your digits from tracing each adorable freckle decorating his face.

He looked at you with wide, confused eyes, his bruised lips parted and mind blank.

You said-you didn’t hate him?

He felt a rush of relief completely envelope his body, feeling on top of the world. You didn’t hate him for fighting you-and you even said you could never hate him. Was he really that lucky to have such a sweet crush like you?

He felt so happy he just had the undeniable want to just kiss you-you we’re close enough after all, he could just lean in to you....

“Oh-uh,” he quickly stuttered our, terrified he would actually act on what he was thinking, “Thats-thats great, thank you,”

You chuckled at his flustered ness, his cheeks a raging red from his thoughts-he definitely wouldn’t ever stop being a nervous wreck around you.

Shoto

Honestly, you would never know Shoto had a crush on you

hes just SO HARD TO READ

Also this boy would be the last person to realize he had a crush in the first place

very very oblivious poor baby

anyways, because of this oblivious part of him, he’d probably figure out he had a crush right then and there

Like, as he sees your face flash against his, and theres a big VS symbol in between you two

He gets this terrible, sinking feeling

like OH SHIT I have to fight them

He knew something was different this time around, because with everyone else he was fighting agains,t he could give two shits about them

but with you, the person he was actually fighting against felt important now

He just didn't want to fight you

So that through him off- big time

*queue a shoto todoroki internal monologue

this guy is really having an epiphany rn

Like dang- all those times I would stare at them, or get angry when somebody hurt them, or my face would get really hot when they told me “hi” meant I liked them!?

This pooor thingggggggggggggggg

Now,

Shoto isnt egotisitical-

hes just practical

So he knows that he would probably win this match-

he saw you as a great fighter, yet his quirk was alot more flashy and powerful than yours

So he had either two options:

one) was to just go all out and try to finish the match ASAP, or

two) prolong it, so you could get some exposure to the heroes watching

(spoiler alert- he goes with number two)

But what he doesn't realized is how FLUSTERED he gets when hes fighting you

He’s never been close to you like this before, even if you are fighting-and damn he didn't realize he had been craving this

He was making more mistakes than he usually would make in a match like this, so it was harder for him to keep the upper hand like he thought he would

But, of course- this is Shoto Todoroki we’re talking about

He finally zaps out of this love sick puppy phase and he starts to fight you for real now-

anddddddd he manages to push you off the stage boundaries

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

Shoto took a deep breath, his lungs feeling icy from his quirk and his body heavy with fatigue.

Damn- that was a hard ass fight.

The sound of a roaring crowd was piercing his ears, Present Mic’s booming voice echoing the results of the matchup.

“Todoroki” seemed to be echoing throughout the stadium, his last name a mantra in the speakers. He won the match after all- he’d be advancing.

Shoto licked his lips, the tang of blood sparking in his mouth. Shoto didnt really feel much in these moments, as he could never really appreciate the achievements he had under his belt at such a young age.

But right now, something different was bubbling in his stomach- Shoto turned to look at you, your knees digging into the gravel and your fists balled into the dirt, your head laying low.

It wasnt rocket science to tell you were feeling down about loosing the match, and Shoto could see you were frustrated by the circumstances- he won, and you didnt.

Watching you struggling to get up from the icy ground he had made, your body beaten and bruised....he felt-guilty.

Suddenly, he felt his feet walking towards you, his heart beating a mile a minute in his chest.

His head was swarming with nerves as he held out his digits, his palm stretched out in a peace offering.

“Here,” his voice was smooth and deep, sending a shiver down your spine as you looked up at his outstretched digits.

You gave him a quizzical look, almost as if to say “what are you doing?”

Shoto bit his bottom lip, looking at the side as his cheeks flushed red.

“Take my hand-you’re injured.”

His tone was placid and calm, his bi colored eyes boaring into yours. It was just so confusing....he won the match, so why did he want to help you?

“Why?” you asked, your voice groggy and thick.

“Because-you’re hurt, and I’m certain my old man wouldn’t want me to be doing this. So I want to do it.”

I small laugh escaped your lips, the sound so sweet that it made Shoto’s face even more red and his heart beat faster in his chest.

“Shoto Todoroki being a rebel-“ you joked, shaking your head as you laughed, “I wouldn’t expect that from you.”

You looked up at the Todoroki son, a smile on your lips as you took his hand.

Ah crap-Shoto was really over heating at this point, his mind going haywire as he tried to figure out why it was so hard to keep his right side at bat as he pulled you up from the floor.

He found something so endearing about how small your palm was compared to his-it fit almost perfectly in his, the skin soft and warm against his.

Shoto cleared his throat, his eyes dancing nervously, trying his best to get his nerves in check.

“Is that-a bad thing?” He asked, feeling slightly sad that you had taken your hand out of his to dust off your tattered PE pants.

“Nope,” you said, popping the “p” in the sentence, “I think it’s a good thing-I like it.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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cookiescraze · 2 years

Text

An Act

Word Count: 2K+

Warnings: None

Tags: Angst, Strangers to lovers to enemies, Workplace au, Slice of life au, Jerk!Jin, Jin-centric

"Oh, my-" You exclaimed as you bumped into someone, spilling your iced coffee all over his white shirt. "I'm so sorry!"

He looked at his now-stained shirt before looking back up, a kind smile present despite the unfortunate circumstances.

"It's perfectly fine, I should have been watching where I was going. We both are at fault here, so it's no worries." His voice was deep and melancholic, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

You were swooning hard. Never have you met someone so beautiful yet kind, someone, so mature and gentleman-like. Honestly, when you saw the coffee stain, you were sure that this already-horrible day couldn't have gone worse, yet your eyesight was gifted with such eye candy, that the world around you almost seemed brighter.

"No, I should have been careful. Let me do something for you in return, I feel bad for ruining your shirt." You offered, not used to someone being so understanding.

"Well, let's just have coffee if we ever meet again." He gave you a final smile before heading on his way, leaving you dumbfoundedly staring at his disappearing figure in awe and adoration.

***

The next time the two of you met was at the movie theatres.

You were busy scavenging through your bag, desperately trying to find your phone, hastily wanting to contact your office.

"Hey, excuse me, I think you dropped this." A dark velvety voice interrupted your actions, startling you slightly.

You looked up from your bag to see your phone held out by a stranger. You exhaled in relief, extremely pleased to find your phone.

"Oh! Thank you so mu-" You looked up, only to widen your eyes in recognition. "Hey! You're the same guy!"

"Huh! What a coincidence seeing you here! My name's Seokjin." He held out a hand for a handshake as he introduced himself.

"Y/n." You said as you shook his hand, an excited smile on your face at the mere thought of meeting him again.

"So, what movie are you here to watch? Or did you already finish watching the movie?" The two of you started walking together, mindlessly walking in no particular direction.

***

The next few months were spent alongside laughter and giggles, love present in their eyes as they went on dates, sleepless nights filled with love. He became the lighthouse shining a light on her dreary life, her safe haven. It was worthy to be part of a compilation from a hallmark movie, it was beautiful. Not a moment was spent without a smile on their faces.

It was too good to be true

***

"Why is he not here yet?" She scanned her eyes through the restaurant, skimming past the fancy décor and couples in clothes that were worth a fortune.

Her leg bounced up and down in anticipation as she plastered an awkward smile when she denied the waiter once again.

"Oh no, it's fine. I'll order when he arrives." The waiter nodded with a pitiful smile before heading off.

She ran her hands through her emerald dress, straightening any folds, trying to get her mind off the fact that she was waiting all alone in the restaurant, making a fool of herself in front of everyone else. Fiddling with her fingers, she patiently waited, looking with anticipation whenever someone entered the restaurant, only to be disappointed.

It was their semi-anniversary or 6 monthiversary.

'Did he forget?' She thought as she bit her lip nervously, not caring about the red lipstick that stained her lips.

She dialled his number once more only for it to ring once before the call was cut. She stared incredulously at her phone, confusion present tangibly on her face.

"Is there something wrong with his phone?" She naively thought, ignoring any other reason as to why her call was denied.

Nevertheless, she waited. Patiently watching the clock inevitably tick by, watching couples enter and leave the restaurant. Her eyes pooled with tears as the time passed, her dress crumbled in her fist, palms sweaty with dread and angst.

"Hello miss, it's time to close the restaurant now." The waiter said uneasily, pitying her.

"Oh!" ______ looked around, flustered as she hurried to grab all her belongings. "Thank you." She mumbled politely before scurrying off, her head hung low in embarrassment.

Her heart felt heavy as stepped out of the restaurant, a chill traveling down her spine as she stepped outside, shivering when she felt snow on her bare shoulders.

'Is it snowing already?'

***

It had been a week since that incident and she was yet to hear anything from him. She knew that she should be angry at how he was ignoring her, frustrated at him ghosting her… but she was worried for him.

'Is he hurt?

'Did I do something wrong to annoy him?'

'Is he okay?'

She sighed woefully, a teardrop escaping the corner of her eye as she emptily reached out for her dress for the business party tonight, her fingertips grazing the golden material of the dress unconsciously as she reminisced about her last moments.

Her movements were monotonous and robotic, arms merely moving while her heart cried silently. Not paying attention to her actions, she dressed herself up, with no emotion in movements or expressions. She wanted to cry her eyes out, succumb to the pain of her heart continuously stabbed at the absence of his presence, but she had to go to this party, she had to pay the rent, she needed this job.

With an empty look she stepped out of her house, a purse hung on her shoulder as she absentmindedly locked the door.

With her hollow eyes, she got in the cab.

With nugatory movements, she stepped inside the building, not noticing the beautiful interior décor made out of crystals and expensively pure metals, ignoring the extravagant dresses and designer suits, not paying attention to the lavish champagne or extortionate food.

She felt empty.

Taking a huge breath, she smeared a fake smile, straightening her back before she continued her journey to the centre of the hall where her boss stood.

"Oh _____! Welcome, CEO Kim was just talking about how he didn't see you!" CEO park welcomed you with a wide smile.

CEO Kim, was an old man in his 60s, the person who ran your rival company. The tension between the two parties was palpable, the strained smiles on everyone's faces as they wished the worst for the other company only hid the rivalry from the audience's eyes. He smiled wickedly, a cunningly teasing glint present in his eyes as held a hand out for a handshake.

"Ms _____, It's a pleasure to see you."

"You too, CEO Kim." _____ replied through gritted teeth as she returned his handshake.

"I must say Ms _____, you're right in time. We have something special to announce today and I'm glad you're here to witness it."

She quickly sent a wary look towards her boss, slightly confused yet anxious for what they had prepared, to which CEO Park merely shrugged.

"I would hate to miss it." ______ politely replied, already feeling squeamish under his gaze.

He sadistically smiled before he headed for the stage, ringing his champagne glass to obtain the audience's attention.

"Hello everyone, it truly is a pleasure to see you here. Standing in front of all you prestigious guests, I feel honoured to be a part of such a community, I feel proud. This is why I am pleased to announce our latest design, the next pride of Korea, the next… tallest building of Korea!"

The lights dimmed as a miniature model of the building was rolled onto the stage… and her heart dropped.

Her eyes widened at the model, palms sweaty as she looked at CEO Park in alarm and disbelief.

That was her model. That was the model her company was working on for the past 7 months. All that sweat and long office hours… only to see the model standing in the hands of her rival.

"Ms ______!" CEO Park whispered to you harshly with an enraged expression. "What is the meaning of this?! Why is our model with him?!"

"I-I… I don't know." She replied under her breath, not being able to grasp this situation.

Her eyes consistently shifted in panic and distress, silently praying that someone would jump out to scream that it was a joke, a horrible joke.

Unfortunately, this was not a joke. This was reality.

"And this…" CEO Kim continued. "Would not have been possible without someone special. It would like to invite my son, the next heir, onto the stage."

A young man stepped on the stage, walking towards his father a bright smile present on his face. ______'s eyes widened, stomach-churning painfully as she recognised the individual.

Kim Seokjin.

She swallowed painfully, tears springing to her eyes, and her chest heaved up and down in dread.

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

"Ugh!" She groaned as she plopped on the sofa, immediately lying her head on his lap as he ran his fingers through her hair.

"You tired?" He softly spoke, his fingers calming her down instantly.

You merely nodded, pouting as she was immediately pampered by her boyfriend.

"Want to talk about it?" He prodded her.

"We are working on a new project but we can figure how to protect it from floods and earthquakes." She sighed, frustrated at the mere idea of her work.

"You've done it before right?" You nodded. "Then why can't it work for this project?"

"It's going to be the tallest building in Korea, almost 100m higher than Lotte Tower."

"You want to work on it together? I know I'm just a civil engineer, but I might be able to help you?"

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

'You said you were an engineer?' Her heart dropped excruciatingly at the memory, mouth open at disbelief and betrayal.

'Was everything just a lie?'

His eyes skimmed through the crowd, a smirk climbing onto his face when he saw her standing there with tears pooled in her eyes, pleased to see the hurt in her face, feeling proud of his actions and that was enough to answer her questions.

It was all an act…

#jin ff #jin x reader #jin x y/n #jin x you #fanfiction #fanfic #seokjin #jin fanfic #angst #bts #bts ff #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts x reader #kim seokjin

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queen-haq · 3 years

Text

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 7

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and light smut.

Words: ~2200 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Chapter 7

You should have asked Billy to stop. The logical part of you knew fucking him in some dirty alleyway was wrong. You deserved better than this, even if he didn’t think so, but when his mouth was on yours and ravaging you, and you were filled with so much anger that you wanted to scream – well, it dulled the sane part of you. Your body was desperate for release and you simply gave into your baser instincts.

You ripped his leather jacket off while he did the same with your coat. You bit his bottom lip so hard you tasted blood in your mouth as he braced you uncomfortably against the jagged wall. There was nothing remotely tender or loving about this moment as he pulled your underwear down and hiked up your skirt to your waist. Knee propped against the wall, he balanced you atop his leg. You rubbed yourself on his thigh, groaning at the arousing feel of his rough jeans on your pussy. The moans you cried out were swallowed by his demanding mouth, his fingers bruising your hips as he held you steady.

You quickly unzipped his jeans, pulling his cock out, pumping him quickly before he forcibly removed your hand from his. His fingers slipped inside your mouth and you licked them with your tongue, your teeth nipping his skin. You were so wet already, grinding down on him, but he took his fingers from your mouth and reached down to stroke your pussy, getting you ready for him. You gasped when he penetrated you slowly, taking his time so you felt every inch of him impale you. Your body shuddered, quivering under the intensity of his gaze as he watched you take him in. Then he began to thrust, jostling your body hard against him. Clinging to him, you bit his shoulder hard each time.

You missed him, the feel of his hands all over you when he was excited, the weight of his body pressing down on you when he was inside you, how loud and wild he was when he was fucking you.

Eyes closed, you lolled your head back against the wall and moaned loudly as he brushed your clit. The combination of his cock and fingers drove you crazy, you were lost in a haze of ecstasy when Billy lifted you higher. You winced with pain as your back scraped against the wall but he didn’t notice, focused on maneuvering your leg around his waist so he can go in deeper.

Pain and pleasure rocked through your body. You could feel yourself getting close, so close, when he suddenly gripped your chin.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” His voice was tender, gentle, eyes shining bright. “Look at me, Y/N.”

His beautiful brown eyes were glazed with need, mouth slightly open. He peered up at you, his nose crinkled, with the most amazed expression on his face. Struck by an intense wave of affection, you caressed his beard and leaned forward to lick his bottom lip. A warm, wicked smile marked his lips before he pulled your lip with his teeth, playing with you.

Hips undulating in unison, his fingers working you, you hit your orgasm within seconds and the world exploded.

As waves of pleasure surged through you, you rode them out, blissful and semi-aware of Billy still thrusting in you as he sucked the corner of your neck. He groaned loudly, his body shaking, when he finally came inside you.

Time stood still. Your body felt boneless, your mind soaring.

You were limp in his arms, probably heavy as hell, but he somehow managed to still hold you up, breath ragged at first but slowly returning to normal. He grasped the back of your head with one hand while cradling your face with the other, angling up to graze your forehead, your eyebrows, dropping gentle kisses on the top of your closed eyelids. You murmured contentedly, enjoying this unexpected moment of tenderness from him.

Then you heard voices approaching and your eyes flew open. The reality of where you were hit you like a ton of bricks. Immediately you untangled yourself from Billy’s arms, pushing him away, and started righting your clothes.

Your thighs felt wet, slick with his cum. You dug through your pockets for Kleenex, something you could use to clean yourself but there wasn’t any. But Billy was prepared, of course he was. His eyes glued to your face, he retrieved tissue from his jacket pocket and started wiping your thighs. “I can do it!” you snapped, grabbing it from him. When you felt somewhat presentable again, you started walking away.

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

You pulled out your phone to request an Uber but he snapped it from your hand. “What are you doing? Give me my phone back!”

“I’ll take you home.”

“I’ll get home myself. I don’t need anything from you!”

“Just shut up and follow me to my car.”

The last thing you wanted was to spend more time with him but he was holding your phone hostage. You followed him grudgingly, careful to keep your distance. The car was parked nearby and upon approaching the vehicle, he held the passenger side door open for you. You knew better than to assume the chivalrous gesture was meant for you specifically. It was a thing he always did, as part of the charming image he cultivated, but whereas he usually wore a smile when he held the door open, right now he simply looked furious. You slid in; he slammed the door shut. As you buckled your seat belt, you grimaced. The same spot on your back that had scraped against the wall was now rubbing against the seat and the friction from the contact was almost painful.

The car ride home was filled with tension. You felt his eyes on you every so often but you refused to acknowledge him, not when your mind was reeling with hurt and anger. How could you be so stupid? You were supposed to move on from him, instead you fucked him in some alleyway next to a crowded restaurant. Worse yet, there was a chance your boss may have spotted you. You may have potentially risked your career for a guy who wouldn’t even go out with you.

Over the past year, researching him as you had, you’d come to realize he needed the finer things in life. His car, his penthouse, the clothes he wore, they were all a status symbol for him. He needed them to feel like he’d accomplished something, probably to separate himself from the kid who grew up in foster homes and had nothing. Women, obviously, played into that equation as well. Women like Dinah Madani, beautiful, powerful, accomplished, they looked great in his arms and made him feel good about himself – but you were not in the same category of women as Dinah and he treated you accordingly. She was good enough to take to the gala, to be the date he wined and dined. You were the woman he fucked in secret. Well, not exactly a secret because he fucked you on the street like you were trash. Somehow you didn’t think Dinah Madani would ever get the two-bit whore treatment from Billy.

Rage hit you again, and you scooted as far from him as possible. The movement caused the sore spot on your back to hit the chair again and you winced.

“You okay?” he asked.

You were starting to panic, taking count of everything that had gone wrong in the past hour. The man who tried to kill you was out on bail. Roger found out you had shared embarrassing info with a competitor, which may have potentially jeopardized your job. You just fucked someone without protection, someone who was known for sleeping around.

Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, everything was weighing down on you. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You hunched over, clutching your temples, staring down at the floormat. You were struggling to breathe, your chest felt constricted.

You felt Billy rub your back, murmuring some nonsense to you, but you ignored him, instead closing your eyes to take a few deep breaths. You inhaled slowly, exhaled slowly. You did it for several minutes. Soon the panic subsided and a familiar numbness took over. Your mind was clear again.

So, yeah, you were in deep shit at the moment, but it was nothing compared to what you’d gone through in the past. You were able to get out of your family’s clutches, that meant you could get through anything. You just had to be calm and formulate a plan.

Okay. Out of everything that had gone wrong, the easiest thing to fix was an unwanted pregnancy. You’d go down to the pharmacy and get Plan B. That way you didn’t have to worry about being knocked up. And then you’d make an appointment next week with the clinic to get checked out. Even though Billy was usually very careful about using a condom – except today – you had no idea how many other women he was sleeping with and you didn’t want to risk catching anything from him.

Two things down, two more things to go.

First thing when you got home, you’d call Roger. You’d reassure him that telling Billy about Adam Preston was a one-time thing and you weren’t in the habit of divulging confidential information to a competitor. You were shook up yesterday, you weren’t in your right mind, and that had resulted in a terrible error in judgement. It was never going to happen again. And Roger valued you, he appreciated all the work you did, he wouldn’t hold something so silly over you. And if he saw you fucking Billy? You cringed at the thought, but there was no point in inviting trouble. If he did catch you red-handed, well, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it. “There’s a pharmacy at the end of my street,” you said to Billy, without looking at him. “You can drop me off there.”

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Adam Preston was the biggest problem you had to overcome. You’d already started looking into his family, trying to find dirt that you could use as leverage against them in case you needed to. But you remembered the look in Adam’s eyes when he’d been ready to kill you. He was unhinged and held you responsible for everything wrong in his life. There was a very good chance he couldn’t be reasoned with or blackmailed, but you were not going to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder in fear. No, never again. You’d spent your entire childhood that way, always wondering what inconsequential thing would set your father off. You were not going to live through that again. So, fuck Adam Preston. If he couldn’t be controlled, then he’d have to be eliminated. Simple as that. And you knew exactly who to turn to for that.

“Give me my phone,” you said to Billy, finally turning to look at him.

Dividing his attention between the road ahead and you, he shot you a confused glance. “I’ve been talking to you for the last ten minutes. Have you heard a single thing I’ve said?”

“No.” You held out your hand. “My phone, Billy.”

“Why do you need to go to a pharmacy?” He cast her a quick glance. “Did I hurt you?”

“I don’t want to get knocked up by you. So I’m going to the pharmacy to get that taken care of. Does that answer your question?”

You noted the way his jaw clenched, but you reminded yourself not to care. You were done with Billy. You were done with feeling like shit. The first time he made you feel worthless, you could console yourself with the fact it hadn’t been your fault. Before you caught him with Dinah, you didn’t know he viewed you. Every time since then, however, was a conscious choice on your part to engage with him which meant you were solely responsible for how pathetic you felt right now. He was selfish, callous, and treated you like shit, and yet you still fucked him. That was something you had to hold yourself accountable to.

Parking his car a few feet away from the pharmacy doors, he turned off his car. His face was dark, his voice terse. “I didn’t force you to fuck me back there, babe. You wanted it as much as I did.”

You met his solemn stare. “You’re right. I did. I fucked you even though you make me feel worthless. There’s only been one other person who’s made me feel that ugly and I cut them out a long time ago - but not you, you I fuck.” A bitter laugh escaped you. “I told you about the Adam thing and what did you do? You went and threw it in my boss’s face so you can brag about Anvil. He could fire me tomorrow and I wouldn’t have any recourse because I’m the one who divulged confidential information. But you feeling smug and superior is obviously more important than me keeping my job.” You looked away from him, staring out the window. “You keep hurting me, and I just let you. For what? Because I have feelings for you? Because some part of me might love you? That’s not a good enough reason.” You shook your head. “I fought like hell to make something of myself, to be safe and happy. I’m not going to let these stupid feelings ruin all that. You will not destroy me.” You felt calm, at peace with your decision. “Give me my phone.”

Your fingers made physical contact when he handed you your phone. His potent stare was affixed on you, angry, volatile, filled with emotion, but you ignored his gaze and snatched the phone away from him.

You opened the door and exited the car, heading to the pharmacy. There was a line at the counter and you took the opportunity to block Billy’s number on your phone.

It was odd. Revealing your weaknesses to Billy, making yourself vulnerable – any of those would have made you hyperventilate before. You weren’t in the habit of giving people ammunition to use against you, but you suspected it was the only way to get rid of Billy permanently. And, strangely, telling him how you felt in the car was freeing. Because, ultimately, it didn’t matter what he thought, the only thing that mattered was you. And you were ready to move on.

Part 8

A/N - As always, thank you for being such a wonderful, generous audience and all the likes, reblogs, comments, asks, and messages you’ve left me. Trust me when I say, I’m committed to finish this story because of you :)

If you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list, please let me know.

Tag List

@yourfavoritefruitybitch @voyevoda-thejoy @adreamemporium @queenmalhinewahine @gubleryum @galaxyjane @xceafh @maralisa124 @tomhollandisabae @daybleedsintonightfa11 @lil-baby-nor @all-art-is-quite-useless @tanyaherondale @nashibirne @dour-trash @thetallassgirl @athenamikaelson @agent-jbarnes @primadonnasdream @aleksanderwh0r3 @elisemockingbird @nihilismworld @archisur @nemesis729 @lysawayne @kaqua @ladyblablabla @lemasonda @advictedtohim @24-martie @tarkanelima-blog @shinebrightlikeafanbase @krystal-clear1 @damalseer @dontjinx-it @darkishx @wanderlusting-about-life @thatguppienamedbae @happypepperdog @bat-revival @sassygirl25 @consulting--heroes @the-celestial-kitsune @mackaywhore @ablxssm @competitive-dust @red-head011 @exo-1204 @sunsetenigma @millieb-3199 @chatnain @licensedcheek @tinkertailor1212 @vertesalope @safetyhtom @acourtofglassandroses @eliwinchester-barnes @finnismyoriginalsin @weallhaveadestiny @beananacake @beauty-and-the-beast97 @smurfelle @fire-treasure-iii @charly-0 @kestrafagnor @pigwidgeonxo @damagelove @allegra-writes @pensandthings @jad3djay

#billy russo x reader #billy russo #the punisher #billy russo imagine #a woman scorned

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bump1nthen1ght · 3 years

Text

Pack Tactics (Werewolf x Reader)

Pairing: Fem!Reader/Male!Werewolf

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Established Couple, Angst with a happy ending

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2896 words

Summary: You are in a wonderful relationship with your sweet partner, Gray. But this far into the relationship, you’ve yet to tell him you have no intentions ever of having kids. You can’t help but wonder, how will your child-loving werewolf boyfriend will react?

Request: I live for very specific comfort! No pressure if this doesn’t inspire you or if you just don’t want to write it obvi.... but could I have a f!reader x m!werewolf where the reader is 100% sure she doesn’t want to have kids ever never ever in any capacity and is worried about how her werewolf bf is going to react, worried she’ll be dumped or something (ya know cause idk I feel like werewolves are built with a breeding kink and like into the whole having a lot of pups) there can be smut if you want!! I love me some dramatic angst comfort :)))))))

A/N: Sorry this took so long y’all, school and stuff has been kicking my ass. But writing this sweet little fic has been a nice reprieve from my work. Hope you enjoy!

“Alright, I’ll get the chicken, the asparagus, and the pasta. You’ve got the wine and the dessert?”

“Sure thing.”

The two of you nod, Gray stepping away from the grocery cart before you call out to him.

“And not one of those huge tubs of ice cream.”

Gray emits a dramatic whine, pouting.

“But the big one is 25 cents cheaper than those little pints. It’s practically free!”

You furrow your brow and pat him on the shoulder.

“Not if we don’t finish them, they aren’t. Now go.” Gray rolls his eyes, clutching his heart and throwing his head back. You playfully push him, walking away with the grocery cart and towards the deli section. You can see the top of Gray’s wild brown hair as he moves into the next aisle, his 6’5” form towering over all the little old ladies who usually crowd the store.

You’re browsing the chicken, trying to decide between 2 breasts or a full rotisserie, when a familiar sound reaches you.

“Oh! If it isn’t ____.” You forcibly paint a smile, fingers automatically clenched around the stellafoam package as you turn to see your next door neighbor Mrs. Star. Her teased, bleached blonde hair teeters on top of her head, bobbing back and forth with the clack of her neon blue heels. While you can respect the 60-year old for digging her feet in and refusing to update her wardrobe from the 80’s, her pension for gossip is a little less admirable. “Shocked to see you out and about, what with that big ol boyfriend of yours.” She says, blue eyeshadow crinkling into a wink and nudging you with your elbow. You wheeze a bit, quickly covering it with a laugh. “Back in our honeymoon phase, Richard and I barely left the bedroom. And he was half-way balding back then, not the babe-a-rama you got going over there.” Mrs. Star’s laugh reaches a pitch almost too high for your human ears to pick up, maybe even giving Gray 2 aisles over a headache.

“Well, y’know, gotta keep our energy up.” You wince, immediately berating yourself for that comment. Mrs. Star throws her hand up in a “oh, you” gesture, letting out another half-whistle half-screeching chuckle.

“Oh I do, honey, I do.” She sends you another dramatic wink, which you return with a shaky smile. The corner of your cart bumps into hers as you begin walking along the meat aisle, trying to forcibly end this interaction. But Mrs. Star pulls off an impressive turn with her cart and strolls alongside you. She does little to hide her wandering eyes, trying to piece together any juicy info from your groceries. “So, are you two trying for kids yet?”

The wheels squeal to a sudden stop, forcing you to choke on your saliva as the shopping cart’s handle digs into your stomach. You keep your gaze locked on the frozen steaks and turkeys, already way past the chicken you meant to grab.

“Uhhh, no. We’re not really in the phase of our relationship yet.”

Mrs. Star clicks her tongue, pressing her hand to her chest in a show of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, dearie. Old habits you see, whenever a new couple moves in together I assume they’re halfway to the wedding already. You young kids like to take it slow, huh?”

You nod, hastily grabbing a package of buffalo wings, hoping for an excuse to escape this conversation.

Mrs. Star continues to walk by you, her cart blocking off any convenient means to leave unless you significantly pick up her speed. Her eyes glance over the sweats sat in a display in the center of the aisle, humming a small tune.

The end of the aisle is approaching, you’re almost home free! You ready your feet to book it with an excuse, but Mrs. Star clears her throat and begins to speak.

“Now dearie, I don’t mean to pry-”

What do you call these last 3 minutes, Star?

“But I’d at least pop on a ring on that finger soon. Someday someone’s going to snatch that boy up like a piece of meat, saying all the right things. Men got all those suspicions about over-the-hill pregnancies, his eyes might start wandering. That’s how my first divorce went, so I should know.”

You pull your cart to a stop, breathe catching as you look at Mrs. Star, shocked. You can handle some inappropriate questions, but to question your boyfriend’s loyalty and insulting your relationship is crossing another line. Your brows furrow with a simmering anger, your cheeks heating up as you're ready to let loose.

“Well, Mrs. Star, if you must know I have the most wonderful boyfriend on this side of the planet, and unlike your deadbeat first husband, he’s as loyal as they can be.” Mrs. Star looks at you, eyes widened and right hand halfway to grab a pack of oreos. You huff, pushing your cart away from hers and towards the cash register. Right before you leave her sight, you turn back to her with a simpering smirk. “Have a great day, Mrs. Star!”

Your heart is heaving with anger, prepping a rant to Gray about the horrible interaction you just had. On the other side of the store, you spot Gray, his curly hair all tussled, holding a large Rosé and a package of ice cream sandwiches. Just the sight of his back calms you a bit, excited for some delicious food and late-night cuddles. You jog a little towards him, but slow down when you see him crouch down, looking at something hidden from your sight.

You turn your shopping cart slightly, trying to peer behind his massive form, and freeze.

Gray’s sticking out his tongue, pushing up his nose, and making many more silly gestures to a baby in a stroller. The baby laughs, it’s chubby cheeks bright red as Gray blows another raspberry, thrashing its arms up and down with joy. The dad is laughing at Gray’s antics, leaning down and patting his kid on the head.

Gray promptly stands up, sending another big smile to the kid, before waving goodbye. The six-month-old waves back, uncoordinated and decidedly adorable. Gray laughs, turning away and walking towards you.

Your feet feel cemented to the floor, heart down in your stomach.

He’s a natural, you think, nausea building up in your throat.

Gray was the oldest of eight, not a large number for a werewolf family. You adored them, and they you, but Gray had a way of dealing with his youngest siblings. Whether it was letting them climb all over him like a jungle gym, or attending imaginary tea parties, Gray was a pro. He was the guy to cram himself into a tiny chair at the kids table, eating tiny cookies and cracking jokes. ‘Dad’ seemed to be stamped into his very being, the cuddly werewolf with a love of children. He’s any mother-in-law’s dream.

But all those sweet things turn sour when you think about what Mrs. Star said. Gray, moving on without you.

Gray’s eyes light up when he sees your cart, jogging over and holding up the bottle of wine like a prize.

“Hey!” He says, quickly sliding an arm around your waist and giving you a peck on the cheek. “I got your favorite, and those delicious mint-chocolate sandwiches.”

His happy voice and comforting touch help abate whatever it is your feeling, but the way Gray’s brow furrows tells you your discomfort is present in your eyes. “Is everything okay?” His large hand comes up and rubs your shoulder. You give him a shaky smile, fighting away negative thoughts with a bat.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

---------

Wet fur presses up against your bare neck as you lazily stir the boiling water, Gray’s shifted muzzle now snug in the crook of your shoulder, the white flecks across his dark fur peeking into your periphery. Your free hand instinctively goes back to scratch between his ears, causing him to let out a satisfied huff, hot air blowing across your chest.

“That smells good baby.”

“It’s just salt and water Gray. The pasta’s barely al dente.”

Gray laughs, turning his head slightly so he can press a small kiss onto your cheek.

“You could make even that taste delicious, ____”

You dramatically roll your eyes, pushing away his chin as he continues to peck and nip at your neck. After showering Gray always made sure to rub in some cherry-blossom leave-in conditioner into his fur. The artificial perfumes just lightly touch your senses, but the mental connection they have to Gray make them smell that much sweeter. You turn and give him a quick kiss on the lips, patting his shoulder once more.

“Do you mind setting the table? Maybe get started on those messy dishes?”

“No problem.” Gray mumbles, reluctantly pulling away from you and tugging up the towel that hangs loose on his hips. He barely needs to reach for your fancy plates on the top shelf, his chest muscles flexing and bicep taut. Even with his thick fur, you can see the bone of his clavicle which accentuates his long neck.

God, he’s so hot.

You think, smirking a bit as you continue stirring.

And all mine.

You hum, but the cheery mood you’re in quickly sours once you remember your conversation with Mrs. Star. That small seed of doubt seems to grow and leech from your chest.

2 years into this relationship and the two of you have only danced around the conversation of the future. You of course had agreed on living together, what your career paths looked like, even the potential of getting married in a couple years, but never kids. As two 20-somethings, you felt like you had all the time in the world.

But the thing was, you didn’t really need all the time in the world.

You didn't want kids. Even with your family or your neighbors needing that your opinion “might change some day,” you were confident in that decision. Not that you hated them, you just could never picture yourself being a mom. A fun aunt, maybe, but never a mom. It wasn’t even a point of contention in your own mind; The picture of you, your partner, and maybe a couple of pets thriving into your elders was bliss enough.

You sneak a glance to Gray, now clothed and back turned to you as he sets the table. He’s diligently folding the napkins into fun shapes, a ritual he does every date night. From the hole in his jeans you can see his tail wagging, content as he hums to the low radio playing on the window sill.

A smile crawls onto your face, a small giggle escaping you as you watch Gray’s hips bob to the beat, silently mouthing the words. You snort as he does a dramatic little shoulder shift, Gray’s head whipping back towards the kitchen as you throw your hand over your mouth.

“What, don't you like my moves?” Gray says, shimmering his shoulders again, a large grin across his face.

“They could use some work, Kevin Bacon.” Gray clutches his chest, throwing his head back in mock pain.

“You wound me. After all these years, you would cut me so deep?”

“Sure would.” You turn back towards the simmering pasta, setting the wooden spoon on the rim and brushing your hands on your jeans. “Oof!” You squeak as you yanked away, Gray wrapping his arms around your waist, twirling you in a stumbling circle.

“And how ‘bout now, m’lady?” Gray simpers, eyebrow cocked. Your hands slap his chest as you laugh. He lets your feet back down on the floor, but keeps his arms locked around your waist. The two of you slow dance to the beat, and when the chorus hits, Gray gives his worst rendition possible. You bemoan and feign plugging your ears, but find yourself singing along anyway.

Everything about Gray is warm and bright, from his goofy grin to his excitable tail to his two left feet. He adds that pep of energy to your daily routine, pulling you out of an exhausting cycle for a quick jog to the beach or an episode of your favorite drama. Gray fills out all of those little spaces, makes them a little less gray.

Your head rests against his chest, feeling the fur through the fabric of his t-shirt as the two of you sway back and forth.

You want it to stay this way.

But that pestering weed squeezes your heart again, forcing images of Gray with a kid on his shoulders. Showing up to little-league football games with a big cooler and a “#1 dad” T-shirt. All those little moments, all without you.

You can’t fight the deep sigh, pressing your face even deeper into Gray.

Just let me have this. Just this moment, just for now.

-------

“Ugh, I think my stomach is going to explode from excess-pasta.”

Gray huffs, laying his head on your lap as the two of you slump onto the couch. His tail wags lazily, flickering back and forth as his legs swing over the coach's side, his long torso bunched up as he curls into you. The fur of his head is soft as you twist your fingers into it. “But I gotta say, what a way to go out.”

You giggle, losing your thoughts in his soft fur. Gray lets out another deep breath, nuzzling his face into your hand. You brush over his cheek with your thumb, admiring the cheekbone you feel just underneath.

But that burning question refuses to leave your mind, and you ask it without even thinking.

“Do you want kids, Gray?”

Gray’s eye’s stay closes, his posture relaxed as he sinks into your massaging fingers.

“Hmmm, maybe. Never really thought too much about it. Why?”

Your throat dries up, mind reeling. It wasn’t even a definitive yes, but your heart is still reeling. Your fingers pause and Gray's eyes open. He shifts his head when he sees the look on your face, concerned. “Babe?”

You nod, eyes still wide, trying to fight off the inklings of a panic attack. Gray pushes himself up on his elbows, paw quickly coming to caress your cheek. “Baby, is everything alright?”

You find the energy to breathe, and suck in deeply. Your heart begins to slow down as you look into Gray’s yellow wolf eyes. You dig your cheek into his large palm, smelling the perfume of his conditioner.

“Yes, sorry, I just-” You pause, taking another deep breath. “I ran into Mrs. Star in the grocery store, and-I’m sorry I’m overthinking things.” You mutter, patting yourself on the cheek as to snap yourself out of your mood. Grays other hand rubs the back of your neck.

“It’s okay, baby, I’m here. Did she say something?”

“No-Well, yes. It’s silly, typical Star things. She just brought up how ‘ought to get started having kids, and it just-” You let out a shaky sigh, pulling away Gray’s hand with your own and looking him straight in the eye. “I don’t want to have kids, ever.”

In Gray’s eyes, you expect to….something. Confusion, disappointment, maybe? But instead, all you see is relief. Gray rests his paw on your thigh, squeezing it.

“_____, is that what you’ve been worrying about?” You nod, throwing your eyes back down, but Gray tilts your chin towards him. “If you don’t want kids, we won’t have kids. Simple as that.”

Your eyes widen and you pull your face back.

“Seriously? But-what if-”

“____, I grew up with eight siblings. I’m going to have to deal with more nieces and nephews then I can count on my fingers and my toes, I think I can handle not having kids.”

A weight lifts off of your chest and you slump forward into Gray, pressing your forehead against his clavicles as you let out a long, relieved sigh. He laughs, patting your back and kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry you had to deal with this all day, I didn’t even realize you were so upset.”

You slap his chest, letting out another frustrated sigh. With him? No, but yourself, and Mrs. Star, for stirring up nightmares for no damn good reason.

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine for being so paranoid.” You press your chin up, pouty lips admiring your boyfriend's face. “I’m sorry for freaking out. She really got me into my own head.”

“No apologies needed baby.” Gray says, giving you a small peck. You send him a cheesy smile, chasing after his lips with a couple of small kisses. A low rumble growls out from his chest as you nip at his jawline. Behind him, you hear his tail begin to hump on the floor.

“Hmm, does that mean you feel better?” You nod, pressing another kiss into his pulse point.

“Yes, thank you for letting me get that out.” Another kiss, now on his Adam’s apple.

“Welp,” Gray says, quickly adjusting himself. In another second, you yelp as he picks you up by your butt, legs quickly wrapping around his waist, “Let’s give Mrs. Star something to talk about, hmm?”

You throw your head back with a laugh, clinging tight to his chest as Gray blows a raspberry into your neck. “That good with you, my lady?”

You nod, giving him another kiss on the lips as he carries you off into the bedroom.

Yeah, you have it good.

#monster romance #monster x reader #reader insert #female reader insert #female reader #werewolf x reader #my writing

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