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steele-soulmate · 2 years

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Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 40, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, riding

WORDS: 1970

When I woke up the next morning, I found myself entangled as one with my soulmate’s arms wrapped around me. Instead of panicking and having a massive panic attack, I only cooed softly as I cuddled myself into his strong body more.

“I love you,” I whispered, kissing him. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you-”

“I fucking love you, sweetheart,” he murmured, his face still as he feigned sleep. “Ultrasound today?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “Aaron’s picking me up and afterwards, we may go out and grab some lunch or something. And I also have Charlie today- I texted her yesterday and told her about my nightmare and she wants to talk about it today. You’re more than welcome to sit in on it, if you want.”

“Do you want me to?” Peter asked, moving his hand to my stomach, where he was met with little good morning kicks from little girl. “Good morning to you too, little girl.”

“Peter, I trust you,” I told her, tapping our foreheads together and closing my eyes as I reveled being in his strong presence. “And if you’re serious about this, then you deserve to know me when I’m having a not-so-good-day.”

“Sweetheart.” Peter placed his hand on the side of my face and stroked his thumb along my cheekbone. “Sweetheart, no matter what happens, I will always want you. You are my soulmate. Mine. The universe picked you, of all people, for me to love and treasure and protect, and I swear I will do those things- and more- until my last dying breath.”

I couldn’t help the tears that began to fall from my eyes at his touching words. I buried my face into his neck and sobbed into him.

“Shh… shh now sweetheart,” he crooned softly, kissing my forehead as he sat up and held me in his arms, rubbing my back as he reassured me that everything would be fine. “Please don’t cry- it breaks my heart when you cry.”

But I still couldn’t stop crying even as Peter held me and kissed me and shushed me.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he rumbled, kissing me once more. “Okay?”

“I’m sorry,” I sniffled.

“My sisters were the same way when they were pregnant,” he chuckled. “I understand that it’s just a case of hormonal imbalance and that you can’t help it.”

“You’re right- I can’t help it,” I mumbled, still clinging to him. “Can you hold me, please? For just a little while longer?”

“Of course I can, sweetheart.” I could practically hear the smile in his voice as he shifted me into a much more comfortable position. “Anything for you.”

~xoXox~

I sighed happily as I relaxed further into the bubble bath that Peter had drawn up for me.

“Thank you for caring for me,” I acknowledged him as he fussed around the bathroom.

He turned to face me and dropped to his knees in front of the tub, reaching out to cup the side of my face. “Anything for my sweetheart,” he softly crooned, a clean washrag in hand. “I’m surprised you don’t have blue towels.”

“These Marauder’s Map bath towels only come in green,” I shrugged, watching as he dipped the washrag into the water before wringing it out and pouring body wash onto the fabric. “I oftentimes say that my sisters and I were the first in our family to be sorted into a house other than Slytherin, and that mom and daddy went a bit crazy with back to school shopping when we first attended Hogwarts.”

“What house do you think I’d be in?” Peter asked as he gently scrubbed at my arm, working his way up to my shoulder.

“Probably Slytherin,” I shrugged, giggling at the look he shot me. “What? The house colors are green and silver, the main attributional trails are cunning and ambitious, the-”

Peter cut me off with a sweet kiss before switching to washing the other arm, his hands gentle and soft.

“Malfoy is a little dickwad,” he grumbled.

“Yeah,” I hummed, sighing as he moved onto washing my back. “He is.”

I could tell that Peter loved looking at my tattoos, judging by the way he ran his fingers up and down the wings that had been carefully inked onto my back, his touch as soft as a whispered lullaby. He finished with my back and moved onto my shoulders, gently massaging them as he rubbed the washrag over my tattoos.

I tossed my head back as he swiped the washrag over my tits, the rough fabric feeling heavenly against my swollen breasts. Peter chuckled from deep within his throat, causing for my pussy to start throbbing.

“Someone’s excited,” he teased me.

“You make me excited,” I grumbled as my hips bucked up into his hand. “Do I do the same to you?”

He only guided my hand to his crouch, where I could feel his cock was hard and throbbing even without seeing it.

“Does that answer your question, sweetheart?” he sighed, his head dropping as I gently squeezed. “Fuck sweetheart- stop, please stop!”

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” I sat up on my knees and looked up at him with demure eyes.

“No, that felt wonderful,” he murmured, redirecting my hand over to his cheek. “I don’t want to cum. Not now, anyway.”

“What’s your biggest sexual fantasy?” I asked, genuinely curious as he gently worked the washcloth down my front.

“You and me, outside under the stars,” he purred, placing an open mouthed kiss on my shoulder. “Do you have one?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered, ducking my head in embarrassment. Peter made a clucking sound with his tongue, tilting my head back up. He cooed gently at my flushed cheeks before bending to kiss them gently.

“You are so fucking adorable,” he told me, placing a loving kiss on my forehead before standing to grab the showerhead and wash the soap off from my body. “I can’t wait to make you mine.”

“And I can’t wait to be yours.” I closed my eyes as little droplets of water hit my face, leaving warmth. “What are you expectations for our wedding night?”

There was a heavy, pregnant pause but I kept my eyes shut still. Then Peter placed his hands on my face.

“Sweetheart…?” He sounded like he had a lump in his throat.

“Peter, please,” I begged, opening my eyes at last and locking onto his green eyes. “Please tell me.”

Peter sighed as he draped a towel around my shoulders and lifted me out of the tub, setting me onto the toilet.

“If you don’t want to have sex on our wedding night, that’s fine,” he murmured, bringing over my underwear and helping me step into it. “If you want to go to the movies, or go grab a burger, or… whatever, we can do that. But if you do decide that you- want me, I will be gentle and treat you like a queen of glass. I will be slow and careful and I’ll try my best not to hurt you. Sweetheart, I will literally kill myself if I ever hurt you.”

“Just… be gentle,” I begged him, holding my arms up as he came over to slide me into a bra. “My first time was almost twenty years ago, so expect for there to be some blood. I bled for two days straight after Eric raped me, which is normal following losing your virginity, did you know that?”

I could tell that Peter was tampering down his anger as he breathed in heavily through his nose.

“Is this okay?” he finally asked, holding up a turquoise and hot pink Raglan crop top and high waisted shorts in a soft creamy black.

“Perfect,” I smiled, letting him roll on deodorant underneath my armpits before slipping the shorts onto my legs. I stood up and went to button them only to have my soulmate bat my hands out of the way. He fell to his knees and skillfully buttoned them up for me, placing a sweet kiss onto my plump stomach.

“Can I do your makeup?” he asked as he tugged my shirt on over my torso. “Please?”

“Sure, my makeup kaboodle is under the sink, the blue one,” I directed him, watching as he set the box up onto the counter and opened it. He quickly got to work, wetting my makeup sponge and dabbing liquid foundation all over my face.

“I haven’t done this in years, so be kind please,” he murmured. “Can you get up onto the counter, please?”

“Sure,” I smiled sweetly at him before moving. The moment I sat down again, he planted a sweet little kiss onto my mouth before beginning to blend the foundation. I just sat there, still and quiet while he made me look beautiful.

“How come I hadn’t noticed this before?” he asked, running his thumb over a small scar on my eyebrow. “What happened here, sweetheart?”

“I fell out of a tree when I was six years old,” I shrugged. “Benjamin was supposed to be watching me, but he was off sucking face with his then girlfriend. Ended up with twenty seven stitches as a lovely souvenir, too!”

“Fuck,” Peter scowled, swooping in and kissing my eyebrow. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“So was Benjamin,” I shut my eyes as he began to sweep on mascara, the wand making me think that a fuzzy black caterpillar was trying to attach itself to my eyelashes. “He rushed me to the hospital and stayed with me until mom got there. She just about killed him in beating him up with her pocketbook.”

“Oh?” Peter hummed, moving onto the other eye, being careful not to accidently poke me.

“Yeah.” I opened my eyes at his tap on my nose to see him recapping the mascara and putting it back into the kaboodle. He next picked up the blush and a big, fluffy brush and lightly dusted it onto my cheeks. He dipped the same brush into a pot of bronzer and swept it across my cheeks as well.

“Hello, beautiful,” he crooned softly, painting my lips with lip gloss in a pinkish red color. “Okay sweetheart- take a look.”

“Wow,” I whistled from in between my teeth as I looked at myself in the mirror. “You got some mad talent!” I thought I did a fairly decent job at doing my makeup, but my soulmate could’ve been a professional makeup artist himself if he didn’t want to do music.

“I did my sisters’ makeup for high school dances and stuff,” he shrugged, putting everything save for the lip gloss away and tucking the kaboodle back underneath the sink. “Even without makeup, you’re still beautiful, sweetheart.”

“Gramercy,” I smiled, hopping off of the counter. “And now, I need to get ready to roll!”

Gramercy, thank you, Old French?

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

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PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@starchild0985

#Type O Negative #Heavy metal #Peter Steele #FanFiction #Soulmate AU

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drspencerweed · 3 years

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Dreams Do Come True

Summary/Request: from anon: CONGRATS ON HITTING 500 ILYSM!!! random request,, having a wet dream about spencer while sharing a room on a case (i know, super original) and him getting all hot and bothered hearing you moan 🙈😁

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

W/C: 3484

Content: smut, fluff, friends to lovers, oral sex (both receiving), premature ejaculation, wet dream, sub!spencer

A/N: Hi! So this probably isn’t exactly what you asked for, but I started writing it and it kind of took on a mind of it’s own. I banged this out in two days, it practically wrote itself. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

read on ao3

Sharing a hotel room with her was normal. It was. Sure, they had never done it before, but that was just because Hotch had never randomly assigned the two of them before. So okay, it wasn’t normal by definition. But he wasn’t going to make it weird. Just because he had a small crush on her did not mean that he would let it be weird. They were colleagues, and they even spent time together outside of work too! She would come to his apartment to watch old movies, and he would go to hers so she could cook for him. So he knew he could spend time with her alone, that wasn’t the problem.

It was the sleeping that was potentially the issue.

His little crush had been invading his subconscious almost constantly nowadays, and he was known to talk in his sleep. He was so scared he would say something wrong in his sleep. If she overheard something like that, he knew their friendship would never recover. How can you act normal around someone who said your name in their sleep?

He had been avoiding going to sleep before her, so he had taken Derek up on his offer for a drink in his room to talk about anything but the case they were working.

“So when are you going to tell [Y/N] that you’re into her?” Derek asked out of nowhere.

Spencer stuttered around the sip of his drink. “W-Who says I’m interested in her?”

Derek just laughed and clapped Spencer on the shoulder. His cheeks were burning, a sure sign of his embarrassment at being called out. “Pretty boy, you give her heart eyes every time she walks in a room.”

His blush deepened. “Even if I was interested, there’s a very low probability that she is also interested. So the answer to your question would be never, obviously.” Derek stopped his giggling and gave Spencer an incredulous look.

“All that genius and you don’t see how she looks at you?” Derek asked.

“How she looks at me?”

“She looks at you like you hung the stars, man.”

Spencer scoffed, brushing off the comment. “No she doesn’t.”

Derek started laughing again, “Yes she does! Oh my god, the genius can’t read basic body language?”

“Even if, occasionally, her body language reflected an attraction to me, it was probably because she was thinking of someone she actually was attracted to. Statistically, most women find me awkward and-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, none of this negative self talk. You’re a catch!”

Spencer just waved his hand at the comment, taking a long sip of his whiskey and coughing a bit as he swallowed. Derek eyed him curiously.

“I’m telling you, you’re never gonna get anywhere if you never shoot your shot. The worst thing that could happen is she says no.” Derek advised. He shook his head and finished his drink .

“The worst that could happen is she thinks I’m an absolute weirdo and never wants to talk to me again.” Spencer explained.

“That’s not going to happen.” Spencer rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“I can’t risk losing her.” He insisted. Derek sighed and accepted that he was a lost cause, leaning back in his seat and changing the subject.

~~~~

Spencer made his way back to the room a few hours later, saying a silent prayer to a God he didn’t believe in that she was already asleep. The light was off, so he clicked on the bathroom light so he could see but hopefully not wake her.

“[Y/N]?” He called quietly into the dark. All he got in response was a small whimper. He thanked his lucky stars and made his way to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Once he was all cleaned up and in a pair of sweatpants and a tshirt, he made his way to climb into bed. Just as he swung the sheets off, he heard a low moan from the bed next to him. It stopped him in his tracks. He turned towards her bed, looking at her face for any signs of distress. Nightmares could be debilitating; he knew from experience. But her face was peaceful, beautifully restful. He stopped again for a different reason, taking in the way her face looked as she slept.

Then it scrunched up as she let out another moan. His eyebrows furrowed, wanting to wake her in case she was having a bad dream, but not wanting to disturb her. He swallowed thickly.

Another moan. This one was followed quickly by a quick, “Spencer!” He reeled, unsure where his name had come up. Was she dreaming about him? Was she having a nightmare about him? Or was she calling out for his help?

She let a long, drawn out, “Oh,” and rolled from her side onto her back. He took a step forward, planning to shake her awake from what was clearly a nightmare at this point. But suddenly, “Go on, lick me.”

Spencer stopped with his hands out above her shoulders, inches from waking her. Lick me? He mouthed to himself. What could she possibly be dreaming about?

“Fuck, Spencer, I’m gonna cum!” She exclaimed, rolling back on her side. And-oh my gosh. Spencer took three quick steps back, realizing far too late exactly what was happening. He was entirely unsure how to react. [Y/N]? Having a sex dream about him? It was unbelievable. On his third step back, he ran right into his bed, and lost his balance.

He fell to the floor with a crash.

Her eyes blinked open, and he didn’t have any time to get up or move at all, so her eyes met his immediately upon waking. “Spencer? What happened?” Her voice was tired from sleep.

Spencer blinked, and immediately panicked. He was never good at lying under pressure. “I-uh. You were having a, uhm, dream. And I thought, thought it was a nightmare so-” As he spoke, [Y/N]’s face got redder and redder, and she sat up in bed and placed her face in her hands.

“Oh no, you didn’t hear anything, did you?” She asked cautiously, barely chancing a glance up at him. He swallowed tightly and nodded. “Fuck me!” She said, throwing her head back on the pillow. Her voice sent something through him, and all he wanted was to say Okay and kiss her. But Spencer knew one didn’t control their own subconscious. Just because she had a dream about him didn’t means she actually wanted it to happen. He scrambled to his feet and cleared his throat.

Before he could say something, anything really, she was sitting up again with a groan, rubbing her hand over her face. “Well I guess now you know about my stupid crush.”

“Your crush?” He asked. She looked at him incredulously.

“You heard me moan your name in my sleep. Yes, obviously, my crush. On you.” She explained matter of factly. He stuttered, trying to allow his brain to process the amount of information he had just been given. It didn’t make sense to him. [Y/N] was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, not to mention one of the most confident. She carried herself with such authority he never thought she’d look twice in his direction. Clearly, she’d want some confident alpha male who could match her energy, not his insecure nervous self. But here she was, telling him point blank that she had a crush on him.

He didn’t know what to do. While he was standing there, stuttering, trying to gather his thoughts, [Y/N] made her way out of her bed to stand in front of him. She was only wearing a tank top and a pair of small shorts, and he could barely keep himself from staring at her body. “I had no idea.” He finally settled on saying, and she let out a loud laugh.

“Really? Profiler extraordinaire? No idea? Why do you think I cooked for you so many times?” She smiled at him while she said it, like she couldn’t quite believe he didn’t see it.

“I thought you just wanted to be friends!” He exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. She seemed to deflate at this, her face falling and wringing her hands together.

“I did! I do! But I was always open to...more. I just wanted to spend time with you.” She explained, sitting back on the edge of her bed and staring down at her hands. “But you clearly have no interest in that-”

“No! No.” He corrected quickly, and then realized with a sudden clarity that since her confession he’d done nothing to imply he felt the same. She stared up at him at his exclamation, unsure what he meant.

“No?”

“No, you’re wrong, I do have interest in that. In more.” He explained, sitting next to her. He awkwardly reached for her hand, which she offered with a small smile. Lacing their fingers together, he looked her in the eye with purpose. “I also have a crush on you. I stayed out of the room tonight because I was trying to avoid, uhm. What happened to you. I thought that might happen to me.”

She stared at their entwined hands, and then looked back at him. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” He smiled at her, and her face brightened immediately. She turned completely towards him and pulled him in by the neck, pressing their foreheads together. Spencer let their noses rub together, both of them still beaming.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” She whispered, her breath fanning over his lips as she said it. Before he could even nod, her lips pressed to his. It was magic. Her lips were soft and urgent, catching his bottom lip between them. Her hands pulled him closer to her by the neck, and he let his hands find her waist, urging her closer. She climbed into his lap with his guidance, and he let his tongue slip into her mouth as she did it. Her hands roamed into his hair, pushing it off his head and carding her fingers through it, causing him to moan. She giggled into his mouth.

“You like having your hair played with, baby?” She asked, pulling away to watch his reaction as she tugged on his roots. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he let his hands drop to her ass. He squeezed and pulled her down onto him, letting his lips find her neck. She let out a loud groan as he sucked a mark into her pulse point, but she pushed him away with both hands on his cheeks.

“Not above the collar,” She reminded. He smirked at the idea of everyone on the team knowing what they were doing. At everyone on the team knowing that she wanted to do this with him.

“But what if I want people to know you’re mine.” He asked, pressing a quick kiss to her lips as he said it. She smiled at him.

“I think you’ve got this whole thing wrong then.”

He furrowed his brow at her, unsure what he could have possibly misunderstood.

“You, Dr. Reid, are mine.” She said, and then pushed him down onto the bed. He stared up at her perched on his lap, and let his hands roam her body. Now that he had free reign to touch, he never wanted to stop. She sighed and ran her hands down his chest, going to the bottom of his shirt and pulling it off of him. Her hands lit fires under his skin, as he gripped her by the hips and rolled his hardness into her. She chuckled at him.

“Hard already, baby?” She teased. He moaned and threw his head back as she rotated her hips on him. “Use your words.” She ordered, gripping his face to make him look at her.

“Yes, miss.” He answered on instinct. He immediately froze up, trying to take back the honorific when they had never discussed anything like that. It just slipped out, his little experience with being a submissive taking over because of [Y/N]’s naturally dominant role. But her eyes lit up, and she simply smirked at him.

“Good boy.” She whispered, and pressed down hard with her hips.

He came in his pants.

With a loud groan and a thrust upward, he shot into his sweatpants. She chuckled as he shuddered through his orgasm, and leaned down to kiss him. As soon as he came down from the high, embarrassment overtook him. He had a chance with his dream girl, and he literally blew it not five minutes in. Because she called him a Good boy. He brought his hands up to cover his face, but she caught his wrists before he could reach. He closed his eyes and turned his face away, not ready for the ridicule that was sure to follow.

“Awh, did I make you cum?” She rolled her hips a few times, and he hissed at the oversensitivity. “That’s so hot.”

“W-What?” He asked, turning back towards her slowly. She was beaming at him.

“You were so overwhelmed with me that you came so quick, what’s not hot about that?” She said, stroking his cheek. “The cutest boy, all worked up, just for me.”

He blushed again, and swallowed as he smiled back at her. “But what about you?”

“What about me?” She asked. His hands danced along her sides, cupping her breasts and teasing her nipples through her shirt.

“Wanna make you feel good.” He said while she gasped.

“What’s stopping you?” She asked with a smirk. He surged upwards and began kissing her again, only stopping to finally rip her shirt off of her and get his hands on her bare breasts. Her hands found his hair again and tugged on the strands, causing their mouths to break apart as he panted.

“Wanna taste you.” He requested. She moaned and pulled him into another kiss, guiding his hands to touch her under her shorts. His fingers trailed through her wetness, and she moaned against his lips. Then he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them, while her eyes watched through hooded lids. He moaned around his fingers, the taste of her so intoxicating he wanted more of it.

“You’re so fucking hot. Such a good, good boy.” She whispered, stroking his hair. Then she crawled off his lap and laid out on the bed next to him. He turned to watch her as she shimmied off her shorts. Her eyes fell to where he was still sucking on his fingers. She gestured him over to her, and he quickly crawled between her legs. She nodded towards him. “Go on then, taste me.”

He dove in tongue first, with broad licks up and down her pussy. Her hands immediately laced through his hair, pulling him closer to her. His tongue traced from her hole to her clit. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and pulled her in, letting his lips latch onto her clit and sucking. Flicking the tip of it with his tongue, she moaned and threw her head back on the pillows.

“Oh!” She cried, and it sounded just like when she was having the dream earlier. Spencer had a quick thought about making her dreams come true, but brushed it to the side as idealized thinking. Then she lifted his head off of her and looked straight into his eyes. “Go on, lick me.”

Whether she remembered her dream or not, she was clearly living out her fantasy. He lolled his tongue out of his mouth and leisurely licked over her pussy, his tongue flat and wide. She canted her hips up towards him, and he let his tongue form rapid circles around her clit. Her moans fueled his motions, and he moved one of his hands down to pressed two fingers into her.

She whined as he entered her, and let out a quick “Spencer!” He curled his fingers while sucking on her clit again, and her thighs began to clench around his head. He found the right spot inside her by listening to her moans, and then focused all his attention there while flicking his tongue against her clit.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” She cried, tugging on his hair. He kept doing everything exactly the same, pushing her over the edge with a loud shout. He kept up his ministrations until she pushed him off from the oversensitivity. She let out a loud sigh as he pulled off, and her hands went up to clutch at her own hair for a change. Staring up at the ceiling, she let a grin cross her face as a few aftershocks rolled through her. He admired her as she came down from her high, and then moved to the bathroom to wash his hands and get a rag to clean her up.

When he came back he went to wipe her down, but she took the rag from him. “Sit. I get to take care of you, now.” She wiped herself down and then kneeled in front of him. She pulled down his sweatpants, which stuck a little to his cock which was hard again. Smirking up at him, she began wiping him down while he hissed, the gentle touches not enough for him. Suddenly her hot mouth wrapped around his head, and he groaned out. She made quick work of him, throwing her all into the blowjob from the start, taking him as deep as possible over and over. His hands clenched in the sheets as he came for a second time, this time down her throat.

She swallowed as he watched in awe, and then wiped down his softening cock and stood up. Silently, she made her way to the bathroom and got rid of the dirty towel.

When she came back Spencer was still sitting on the edge of the bed. He smiled up at her and reached out a hand, which she took gladly letting him pull her in for a hug, with her standing between his knees.

“I really like you, you know.” He said, his chin resting between her breasts as he stared up at her.

“I know. I really like you too.”

“Would you like to get dinner with me, when the case is over?”

“As long as we can keep doing what we just did before then, absolutely.” She said with raised eyebrows. He let out a laugh which made her smile, and he pressed a kiss to her chest.

“Of course.”

“You can make my other dreams come true.” She smirked.

“I’d love to.”

~~~~

When they walked into the precinct the next morning, [Y/N] was wearing a scarf, despite the hot Texas heat. She hadn’t quite caught Spencer in time, and he had in fact left a mark. Of course the whole team noticed.

“Oi, Pretty Boy, was [Y/N] in your room last night?” Derek asked at the coffee station. Luckily Spencer was facing away from him, so Derek didn’t see how his immediate reaction was to blanche at the memories from the night before. He gathered himself quickly.

“Yes, of course, why?” He asked as he turned around, stirring his coffee. Derek’s attention was on [Y/N], who was talking to an officer on the other side of the precinct.

“That scarf is only there to hide something, I think our lovely lady might’ve got some last night.” Derek said with a smirk. “Don’t let it break your heart, you still have a chance!” He turned to Spencer and clapped him on the shoulder, who was blushing intensely at the tease. [Y/N] had, in fact, ‘got some’, and he was the some she got with. Derek noticed he was off.

“C’mon, I’m just teasing. She probably didn’t get a chance to-” While he was talking, Spencer caught [Y/N]’s eye from across the room. She smirked at him and waved, and he smiled and waved back. Derek cut himself off when he saw Spencer’s wave, turning to see just as [Y/N]’s face turned back to the officer she was talking to. “Oh my god. You crazy man, you actually did it!” Derek exclaimed, shaking Spencer.

Spencer spluttered, shaking his head. “N-No, it’s not like that, I-”

“I don’t need all the details, I just need to know it happened. Because it did happen, didn’t it?” He asked, trying to look Spencer in the eye, but the latter was aggressively avoiding eye contact. Spencer pursed his lips to try and contain his smile as he nodded. “My man!” Derek exclaimed, pulling him into a hug.

Spencer caught [Y/N]’s eye again over Derek’s shoulder, and the smile she gave him made him smile right back.

They had dreams to realize tonight.

Final A/N: thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #sub spencer reid #criminal minds fan fic #spencer reid fan fic #my fic #mine

1K notes · View notes

cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 years

Note

Hello!! sorry to bother you could write a ben 10 x reader? (the reader is kidnapped by vilgax and ben has to save her, after that ben and the reader has an argument) please, i love your fics!!

Storm Before The Calm

Pairing: Pre-Established; Ben Tennyson x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.4k words

A/N: I changed up the request a bit (I figured it shouldn't matter which villain was used here) also I was planning to have this as sort of a damsel in distress situation but after having a chat with some boys pigs I decided a self indulgant badass reader was right up my alley

Additional A/N: I have a math exam on Thursday and I cannot focus for the life of me. So, I decided to finish up one of my drafts. Now hopefully I'll be able to work like a robot for the next week, after satisfying my creative side. Also, this fic was super self indulgant.

"I trust Ben.” You did. With your entire being.

Kevin chuckled from beside you, “Yeah, try saying that without cracking the fillings in your teeth and maybe we’ll believe you.”

His words caused you to relax, only then realizing how hard your jaw was clenched in fury. Gwen sighed in disappointment and for a second you wanted to defend her cousin and your boyfriend. Until you realized that he deserved every bit of unbridled anger coming to him.

“I trust him. Doesn’t mean I’m not mad at him.”

Your hands were balled into tight fists and even though you wanted to take your eyes off the television screen and take a warm bath, you also for some reason couldn’t stop yourself from watching it.

Like you were afraid something would happen when your eyes were off the screen for even a second. Maybe you didn’t trust him.

But honestly how could you, you were currently watching your boyfriend relax in a hot tub with Jennifer Nocturne and the sight was enough to send bile up your throat.

Ben wasn’t returning any of her advances, but he wasn’t stopping her either. And the thought made you sick to your stomach. You knew Ben was faithful and you knew he would never cheat on you but watching how the Hollywood starlet continued to hang off him sent waves of jealousy through you.

Not to mention anger at the fact that he wasn’t doing anything to stop her. When he got back, you were going to wring his neck.

Trusting him was getting harder with Gwen constantly insisting that you dump him.

Honestly, you wondered how that girl even kept a relationship.

When Ben eventually came home, all the entertainment channels were still talking about the two of them and the well-known picture of Jennifer Nocturne kissing him was circulating about. Each time you looked at that image, you wanted to shoot an arrow at the TV.

As time went by, your anger slowly fizzled out. You were unable to maintain your rage at Ben, quickly getting a headache and feeling tired of trying to maintain negative emotions. Even then, you couldn't push down the uneasy feeling in your heart that seized your stomach.

You kept expecting a text message from Ben, an apology call but as the night proceeded you understood that he was having way too much fun with another woman to even think about how you must be feeling.

The thought of that made you want to go back home and crawl underneath the covers, hiding away from the rest of the world.

But Gwen was persistent and any time you tried to wiggle away from the pair of them and go home, she insisted that you stay and make sure Ben knew how upset he made you tonight.

You were more than happy to give your boyfriend the cold shoulder until he apologized rather than have to confront him. That was just how your relationship with Ben worked. Neither of you were the type to lose your tempers and yell and scream at each other.

Although you were worried what would come out of this. Would you be able to peacefully discuss your feelings and then come to some sort of conclusion civilly? Seems too good to be true honestly.

Even then you waited until Ben came home, listening to Gwen and Kevin about how you should rip the band aid off and get everything off your chest rather than ignore him for a couple of days until the two of you got bored.

Usually, the latter would work but you had an inkling that it wouldn't be the solution for this particular argument because if you didn't communicate your emotions then he would never know how you felt about it.

So, even though your stomach filled with anxiety and sadness as the hours passed, you still didn't leave, determined to talk to him about it.

Your jaw was clenched tight when he finally did come back home, utterly relaxed and even happy like he wasn't just curled up against some Hollywood starlet while his girlfriend was watching it on E!

"I'm really upset with you." You ground out when Kevin and Gwen left, not knowing how else to start the conversation.

"What for?"

You didn't reply, picking up the remote and flicking to a gossip channel, then a news channel, then an interview show and all of them had the picture of Ben Tennyson and Jennifer Nocturne locking lips.

Ben winced, "She kissed me! I didn't even return it."

You still refused to look at you, crossing your arms aggressively, "Uh huh and what was today all about?"

"It's just publicity. Jennifer thinks that it'll help with my career."

You scoffed, "What career?"

Ben's back tensed up and he turned to give you a stiff expression, "I'm a superhero. I've saved the universe a thousand times and now that I'm finally getting recognition for it, you want to be petty?"

"Petty? You think I'm being petty? Well forgive me for getting upset after watching my boyfriend curl up to some other woman in a hot tub for the last five hours!" You bit, standing up from the couch.

"It wasn't like that! Stop blowing everything out of proportion!"

"No, you stop pretending like this isn't a big deal! Ever since your secret got out you've been acting like an ass and since meeting that blonde rat it's only gone through your head more!" You shouted, clenching your hands at your sides. How could he not see your side of this?

"Well shouldn't I get to enjoy my life once in a while?! I'm the one saving the planet constantly! I'm the one with constant death threats and near death experiences every other week! Shouldn't I get some attention for it?! God knows I don't get any from you!" He yelled back and you grit your teeth.

"Don't forget that while you were out there risking your life, we were right beside you!"

"Oh, so that's what it is, you're jealous that everyone thinks of you as the sidekick!"

"That is so NOT what this is about!"

"Oh really? Because it sounds like you're jealous because you're not getting attention by mooching off of me!"

Your eyes widened in shock. Mooching? Did he seriously think that you risked your life alongside him every day to help other people and more importantly, keep him safe, for attention?

Your body trembled, outraged and you didn't say another word, leaving his house in a rush and slamming the door behind you.

You needed something to hit.

***

Your body pumped with adrenaline and anger, muscles itching to be used as you sauntered through the old and run-down factory with reckless abandon. You briefly wondered whether you should've told Gwen or Kevin you were going there but then decided against it, pride and anger too great.

Any doubts or hesitation you had disappeared when you saw Vulkanus, standing tall and broad in his metal suit. And as per usual, he had his herd of minions doing his physical labour.

"If it isn't the Plumber's sweetheart." He drawled once he noticed you. You didn't bother with the stealth, leaving the door wide open behind you and letting the sunlight seep in. If he knew what was good for him, then this would be over quick.

"Hello Vulkanus." You greeted politely and he rolled his eyes. Of all people, he knew just how misleading your innocence was.

"Where's the cavalry?"

"Just me today." You answered and for a second you were confused by your own confidence. Maybe you were taking this just a little too easy. Oh well, that was another thing you could blame your pig-headed boyfriend for.

"Well then, this is going to be easier than I thought. Hope you said goodbye to your boyfriend, sweetheart." He rasped out and the corner of your mouth twitched into a smirk. Without another word, you raised your arms, feeling the familiar heat of fire in the palm of your hand before chucking it at him.

Just as you knew he would, he sent his minions towards you first. They were embarrassingly unskilled but the problem came in numbers. They swarmed around you like ants and you felt yourself getting irritated at the clicking sound they were making.

Unfortunately for Vulkanus his make-shift factory was right beside a dam which gave you an endless supply of the elements to work with.

Summoning all the water you could manoeuvre, you pulled it into the factory, shattering the windows along with it and flooding the room. It only took a few flicks of your wrist to create a whirlpool in the centre, knocking all the workers off their feet.

You stiffened your hands, curling in your fingers and the temperature dropped, the water solidifying with each second until all of them were encased in ice. Another flick of the wrist had the path clearing between you and Vulkanus, who was still warm.

"You-You're sparing me?" He asked, confused and a dry laugh left you.

"Not at all," You sang, eyes turning dark, "I'm giving you special treatment."

Vulkanus bounded towards you, holding his mallet high and you swiftly dodged, using water on the floor to slide quickly. He crashed into the engine of one of his machines, the fuel tank exploding and spewing fowl smelling petrol onto the floor.

It floated above the level of water and began surrounding both of you.

He once again came at you, letting out a roar and you used the water to sink through the crevices of his suit, freezing it from within and you heard the satisfying sound of his suit cracking.

Just a little more strength and forcing a gust of air through the cracks had it falling apart and his frail body fell out of its metal encasing.

"You'll pay for this! You big bully!"

"Thanks for the fun time today, Vulkanus." You smiled, strutting to the door just as confidently as you came in. Even though your body was burning from the workout and you could barely breathe, you still couldn't get over the high.

Before leaving the building, you turned around to see him still glaring at you from his place on the floor.

"Oh, I should probably free your minions, right?" You commented, eyes flickering between the ones still encased in ice and the floor that was still flooded with water and petrol.

You let out a fake sigh, "I guess I'll be nice today," You winked at Vulkanus, "Thanks for the playdate, sweetheart."

His eyes widened when you blew a kiss to him, watching in fear as you ignited a flare in your palm and blew it towards him before turning around and using the wind to slam the doors behind you. When you were just a few feet away you heard the place blow apart.

Slowly, the adrenaline began melting and the blood rushing through your ears was much more audible. You were panting, tired from the exercise and the thought of calling Kevin to come and pick you up. Or maybe even Ben. You were calm enough now to have a conversation with him.

When you pulled your phone out of your pocket you felt a hand on your shoulder and spun around to meet eyes with Captain Nemesis. For a brief second you were wondering if he was here to invite you to some inane party or even to tell you that Ben was at one.

Although you hardly looked the part, you were sweating and your face was probably red and blotchy.

"Can I help you?" You asked, taking a step back, he was a little too close to you and the look in his eye freaked you out.

"As a matter of fact, you can." He said, "You see I'm arranging a little stunt for Ben Tennyson. An opportunity if you will, to showcase some of his heroism."

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him. The last thing you wanted to do was feed Ben's ego at the moment.

"With all due respect, I don't really think I'm up for a damsel in distress routine right now, Captain, I'd rather just get home. And If you take another step towards me, I'll kick you where the sun doesn't shine." You snapped and he backed off obediently, raising his hands in a form of surrender.

"That's too bad." He mused and you turned away from him, intent on walking back home or even calling a cab. Anything to get away from this creep faster.

"Too bad you don't really have a choice."

You felt his hand on your bare shoulder again but before you could even react you felt volts of electricity rush through you. You gasped painfully, feeling fire through your veins before everything started to hurt.

White burned in your vision and colours started to blur together as your eyes filled with tears. Your body crumbled, falling forward and Captain Nemesis caught you.

Right before your consciousness slipped away you heard him say something.

"For your sake, you better hope that Ben Tennyson is as great as those gossip channels make him out to be."

***

When you felt yourself regaining consciousness, you could feel your weight pulling down and also couldn't feel the ground. This had your eyes snapping open, regardless of how dizzy you were and how many dots were in your vision.

You hazily made out the venue, Nemesis Tower, before recognize the blonde woman tied up beside you. It didn't take long before you realized she was tied to the other end of the rope, suspended through mid-air just like you.

This was no doubt going to be some sort of deathly choice.

You noticed when Ben came in, turning into Ultimate Humangasaur. He looked furious, like you've never seen him before and you knew it was because Ben was certain he'd teach him a lesson today.

"Where's (Y/N)." He all but growled and your heart soared. You didn't realize how much you missed him until now, everything from before was forgotten.

"Right up there. And so is Jennifer." He replied, still smug despite the way Ben was pining him to the ground by his throat. Ben followed his gaze to meet your eyes and you took a deep breathe, bracing yourself.

A selfish part of you wanted to stay and see what Ben would do, would he save you even though Jennifer was a civilian and world famous?

Even then you figured that you shouldn't risk anyone's life for petty jealousy, so you took a deep breath, blowing it out through your mouth and watching as a gust of wind blew past, the pressure making you swing.

You swung a few feet back, letting your body fall a little before blowing again. Once you gained enough momentum, you looked up to the rope tying the two of you together and spitting fire at it, falling at an angle. You briefly heard Jennifer scream and revelled in her karma for a hot second.

On your way down, you quickly burnt off the rest of the ropes, bringing a pool of water to crystallize into a makeshift slide as you slide on your knees across the floor, just in time to catch Jennifer in your arms.

Your knees stung as they scraped across the concrete and the wind was knocked out of you when the woman fell into your form.

She gasped and her eyes that was screwed shut gently fluttered open. Up close you could understand why everyone was in love with her. Even then you couldn't spare her any concern.

You quickly pushed her out of your arms, noticing Gwen and Kevin staring at you in awe when you stood up. You cracked your knuckles, making your way over to the older man with a scowl.

"For your sake, you better hope that I'm just as weak as you think I am. Spoiler alert, I'm not."

Ben spared a small smile at you but you couldn't feel anything aside from hot fury. You felt water surge beneath your fingers and threw it at him, pulling up a wall of earth to block his blasts.

Your boyfriend immediately began fighting alongside you and your bodies fell into a familiar rhythm. Even though there was a crazed narcissist trying to kill you, you felt safe beside Ben.

It wasn't long before the four of you managed to overpower him, rendering his armour useless until he was defeated, lying pathetically on the ground.

You walked up to him and your lips twisted into an unimpressed frown when you noticed the way he had the audacity to glare at you. Without a second word, you raised your leg and kicked him right between the legs.

"I always keep my promises, Captain."

Kevin began laughing behind you and Ben cringed.

Finally, when you turned to meet Ben, now de-transformed, all the fight left your body and you relaxed. He looked apologetic and you let him approach you.

His arms wrapped around your waist and you leaned into him, breathing the familiar scent of his deodorant and snaking your arms under his jacket to fist his T-shirt.

He sighed into your hair, arms tightening around your body, "I'm sorry. For being an ass to you and saying all those horrible things, I was being an idiot and you deserve an apology."

You didn't move, not pulling away from the way your forehead was pressed against the length of his neck, "Thank you for coming to save me."

"Didn't look like you needed much help." He chuckled and you felt happy hearing the pride in his voice.

"I missed you." You murmured, holding him a little tighter and he turned his head to kiss your forehead gently. And just like that, everything was right in the world. Just as long as you were in each other's arms.

"I love you."

You heard the click of a camera and your head snapped up to see a herd of cameramen and reporters along with a couple of police cars. Ben laughed nervously beside you, "I guess we won't have to worry about another actress coming between us."

You gave him an unimpressed frown and he just smiled, leaning to peck your lips and you heard the crowd of reporters’ gasp and heard the shutters of cameras before they began shouting questions at you.

You pulled away from him when you saw Jennifer Nocturne make her way towards you. You figured she wanted to snuggle up to Ben now that the cameras were filming.

Instead, she walked right up to you, hugging you tightly and your arms flailed pathetically beside her, unsure of what to do, "You saved my life! I don't know how to thank you!"

She pulled away for just a second before pressing a kiss to your lips. Your eyes widened in alarm and the shutters began once again and flashes practically blinded you.

"Huh, so that's what that feels like." Ben murmured when she pulled away from you. Kevin was smirking beside him, satisfied that he got a taste of his own medicine and Gwen was just in shock.

Ben felt his stomach turn at the sight of Jennifer’s lipstick on your mouth and you were unsure whether you should feel repulsed or cocky.

But as you wiped the pigment off your lips and curled back into Ben's side you couldn't feel anything other than your burning muscles and your drooping eyelids.

You squinted because of the bright lights, feeling a headache grow as the exhaustion from before crept up on you again. After 2 fights and a kidnapping today, there was nothing more you wanted than a nap.

"Wanna go home?" Your ever observant boyfriend asked just as the nausea started to kick in. You nodded and he guided you away from the reporters to his car.

He gently placed you into the front seat, shielding your head as you got in to prevent you from hitting it against the hood before buckling your seatbelt, watching carefully as you drifted into a sound sleep.

Ben heard everyone behind him swoon as he lovingly placed a kiss to your knuckles and then climbed into the seat beside you, sparing you one last warm glance before starting the car and driving away.

He'd definitely notice the shy smile on your face when you saw that Ben kissing you was on the front page of a magazine.

And you'd notice the jealous scowl he'd have when he saw that Jennifer kissing you was on the front page of another.

#ben ten omniverse #ben tennyson #ben ten alien force #ben ten ultimate alien #ben 10 #ben 10 uaf #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 original series #ben 10 fanfiction #ben 10 omniverse #ben 10 x reader #ben tennyson x reader #ben tennyson imagines #ben 10 alien force #ben ten #ben tennyson imagine

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sweetsbfreex · 3 years

Text

my baby, my baby

brought to u by me watching IW for the millionth time

Summary: You ask Steve for one thing before the fight against Thanos (IW), but for the first time in however long he denies you of fulfilling this wish.

Warnings: language?

Pairing: Nomad, Bf!Steve x thanos daughter!reader

He was manning the quinjet, not all the way true. Sam was flying the jet to Wakanda, Steve slumped in his seat beside Sam, in deep thought. His chin is set into his palm, his arm sitting up on the armrest, and his palm covering half of his mouth. Looking further down his leg was jittering steadily.

What would happen next was a pretty big deal, none of you on the jet knew what could go wrong. So obviously tensions were at an all time high in this cooped up jet.

You rise up from your seat between Wanda and Nat. Walking yourself behind Steve’s chair. Your pointer finger taps his embellished shoulder, separating him from his apprehensive thoughts. He looks up at you and the creases that were once prominent in his forehead evaporated.

You don’t utter anything, only nudging your head behind you.

Follow me to the back.

Is what’s reciprocated when he too gets up from his seat, letting Sam know he’ll be up front in a second. Once you turn, he follows you down the small aisle to the side “room” away from all the prying ears.

Finally.

You step into the room first. You weren't going to lie, your heart was beating with so much force and it only grew as he walked past you into the room. You close the door behind you, turning, so you're facing Steve's attentive figure.

You only smile at him to some extent, prompted to show there were no ill intentions to asking him back here. When you see how nervous he looks, as you take his hand seating the both of you to a bench against the wall.

Your knees tenderly touch. He clears his throat coercing you to go on, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“You alright doll?” he asks you, in a gentle manner. Taking the already linked palms shifting it from your lap to his. His other hand blanketing your combined hands.

“I’m okay. Are you?” you ask the question hesitantly, raising your spare hand to move aside the hair that fell over and veiled his eyes. You desperately wanted to make sure you got a good look at his face. You loved his face.

His cheeks go plump in a charming smile, and his hand squeezes yours back.

His hair was long. Longer than you would’ve ever imagined Steve would let it be. Either way you loved every inch of the gold locks. Yet, everytime you told him how much you loved it, despite his insecurity and slight annoyance with it. He'd always fall into a rampage down memory lane. Telling you how his late mother would've hounded him about the upkeep of his hair.

You adored that about him too. Loved, that he loved so hard and so full. He’d never forget the ones he loved no matter what.

“I’m swell, you don’t need to worry about me” he tells you.

You didn’t believe him one bit and you weren’t going to push him about it. You knew how he was...stubborn as ever. But, it was also ,by and large, your job to worry about him–– after loving him of course. Contrary to what he would say (Which was vice-versa.)

“We’re gonna be okay...okay? But I have something to ask you. And you can’t get mad.”

“I’m not promising that, but we won’t shout. We’ll talk it out–– whatever it is”

It was the best you were going to get from him and time was closing in on you guys being able to be like this, anway.

“I know how you are, but this is a really critical thing we're fighting for here. So, unless I'm in some type of grave danger. I don’t want you worrying about me on the field. No matter what...Make sure he doesn’t get that stone.” Your voice lets you down towards the end, starting to get scratchy and low.

He stands up in no time. His hands going to his belt, then to his hips, he finally raises one hand to run against his beard.

His facial hair, another thing in the endless things you loved about Steve Rogers.

When the stubble he usually shaves away kept growing into a full beard, it surprised you both. You in a hot kind of way, he became more adoring by day when decided to stop shaving.

You walked in on him one day. He was facing the scratched up mirror in a bathroom in a dingy hotel room. Running his fingers against his face, the other clutching onto the edge of the counter. Tilting his head back and to, eyes shifting as he looked over his face. It was another part of the effect of the serum he didn’t expect would happen.

Telling you a story as he wandered down memory lane again. How he had problems growing stubble as a sickly kid–– so behind on puberty. He even watched Bucky grow his first “stache” at sixteen, but that came to an abrupt stop when Bucky’s mother made him shave it off.

Steve thought It was weird to think that he could now also.

You were still sitting on the bench. Swiveling your body so you were facing your boyfriend, looking up at his fidgeting build with care.

Feeling like a child waiting for their parents to dispute whatever impending punishment they would grant.

“Why would you ask me that?” he finally, finally disrupts his silence. Scoffing at the offensive question.

He doesn’t look at you with anything negative, only confusion.

“Because. I don’t want you jumping in front of whatever it is in front of me...I know him, he’s my dad. He’ll do anything to get what he wants, even if it means I die.”

When Steve told you that it was actually Bruce calling and told you what he said. He looked at you baffled when the shirt you were about to put on dropped from your grasp.

Once you told him you had knowledge of Thanos and how you knew him, there was a pregnant silence in the air.

If anything it filled the rage towards Thanos in Steve even more, by the time you finished.

“Are you listening to yourself?” he questions you in disbelief, lips stuck in a sneer.

“Please. Just please, angel.” you maintain.

You don’t answer either of his questions and he truly hates that. He stays silent for a bit watching your seated figure, looking up at him with the saddest eyes you’ve ever given him. His puzzled eyes shift down to your bobbing leg and your hands wringing together with so much speed and anguish.

He could probably throw up right now.

And when he shifts his eyes up again, you keep that same look on your face waiting for him to say anything.

He sighs dejectedly, dropping his hands to his side, and walking himself back over to you. He sits closer to you than before. Extending a gloved hand to caress your cheek before fixing the flyaways from your sleek ponytail.

“I can’t. You’ll always be my priority, and I won’t promise something like that sweetheart” he tells you this languidly. His thumb starts to rub circles against your cheekbone, to calm you down, when he catches the way your eyes widen at his admission.

“Steve!” your voice breaks. So shocked, you can’t hold back the tears that build up and fall slowly over your face.

You couldn’t believe this. He’s supposed to love you. Time and time again he’d always remind you how much he loves you and how he’d do anything for you–– too hard to say no to you, his words. Thinking this over you pull your face away from his hold, looking down at your taut hands. This wasn’t a silly death wish. You had to make sure your father didn’t get what he desired, no matter what.

He hates having to watch you cry, but he doesn’t have much of a choice now. He needs to stand his ground, there was no way he would be arguing about this. And he does this, grabbing your face with a light hand, so you were face to face again.

"I love you so much. And if I have to choose between letting you die and Thanos losing. Or you living and watching the universe crumble, you know exactly what I'm gonna choose. I'm not losing you, not if I have anything to do with it"

Albeit how dumb it sounded, there is no notable instance in his life where’d let you perish over him.

“You’re not thinking this through” you hiccup.

“It’s you, isn’t it? There’s not much to think about” he smiles at you and as you look at him you can see his eyes glazing over.

His statement only causes you to cry more. You feel nothing but the pain in your heart and the repositioning of your body. It takes you a moment to realize you’re settled on his thighs sideways. His well built arm warmly wraps around your shoulder, your temple rests against his shoulder, and his lips are placing light kisses to the crown of your head.

You incline your head, “I love you too much” you say in an awed whisper, raising a hand to twirl in the strands at the back of his collar. Following that, you let your hand spread across the back of his neck pulling him down for a kiss.

“After this we’re done okay? We have our pardon and are going to buy whatever house you want to get. I’m gonna buy you the prettiest engagement ring money can buy, Gonna get whatever animals you want,” you chuckle at that part.

If there was one thing Steve learned while living incognito with you is that you’d save any animal if you were able to. Always stopping whenever you passed by any animal in need in the drary streets. Looking up at Steve, who’d always have to remind you that neither of you could give it the life it deserves right now. Opting to only go to the nearest convenience store to buy whatever safe animal food in sight.

His hand immediately clutches your face to wipe away the tears that fell without pattern. His smile grows fonder when you do the same. “‘Can paint the house whatever we decide...maybe even get a house big enough to fit the kids we’ll have?” he tells you the last part in such a timid manner, bearing one of his hands to clutch yours. His thumb running over your knuckles at full tilt.

The only thing you were able to give him was a stunned look. So shocked you were unable to react like a normal person.

You squeeze his hand tight only being able to stutter a “really?”

“Of course. I want to have a bunch of small Rogers with you, wreaking havoc around our house” he admits this to you, carrying out such strong eye contact. If his hand didn’t slither down your back, supporting you up and grounding you, you’d jump in glee.

Fuck. Neither of you had talked about this, but you were glad that you both were on the same page about his. You felt terrified but in a good way, wanting to wholly get this over with and start this dream life with Steve.

“And this is all gonna happen, because everything is going to go well. We’re gonna win, I don’t want you thinking like that or asking me something like that ever again. Thanos will never be on our list of priorities ever again.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I can’t wait to start that life with you” you respond, winding your arms around his neck, crashing your lips to his with force.

He pulls away without notice to place hasty kisses to your cheek, loving the giggles you emitted. Even so, the energy in the room shifts too soon when Sam knocks on the door. Steve allows him entrance.

“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re about to land Cap”

Steve responds by nodding his head once, stiffly. Letting him know he’d be out in a second.

You get off of his thighs, so the both of you were standing chest to chest. He claps your worried face. Pulling you into him with little force, so his lips could fall to your forehead, nose, and lips.

“Remember what I said and be safe, I love you”

“I love you” you recite, bringing his hand down to kiss his covered palm.

With that he envelops you in his arm, his cheek resting against the top of your head. Both of you breathing each other in. Your shoulders relaxing at his loving touch.

He’d do whatever needed to keep you safe and if it ended in his death, then so be it. You’d do the same for him in a heartbeat, there was no point in either of you arguing this one out.

––––

Everyone was tired, it seemed like this fight only dragged on with the never-ending monsters. But, with the help of Thor (of course) it seemed like things were only getting positive from there. With the way he rendered lightning, destroying things into dust, you were ready to end this once and for all.

And when a cloud of grey smoke appeared out of thin air, and a large titanian appeared. You knew this would either be the ending or the beginning of all these troubles.

“That’s him” you falter, turning to Steve. You give him a quick once over, nothing the way he eyed your father. A menacing, scary look on his face and the furrow of his eyebrows only grow.

“We have eyes on Thanos” he says into the intercom.

It’s like time stands still for a few seconds, no one moves a muscle. You haven't seen this man in years. You feel as if he doesn't recognize who you are as he glances over everyone, like they're roaches in his kitchen.

Yet, in a blur, everyone takes their chance on Thanos. Trying their hardest to somehow, someway take this Titanian down. Bruce gets thrown with a shout, Branches entwine Nat, and Sam drops from the air smoothly.

At some point you hear the grunt of Steve, who somehow gets some punches in, his hands clutching the gauntlet. He shouts from the hefty weight and in a swift motion is stock-still on the ground from the punch he endures.

“Steve!”

Without a choice you run towards Thanos, your adrenaline kicking in. Kicking in punching only to use your hands to grasp around the metal. You knew towards the end; you were no match for him.

“Please! Please don’t do this. Dad please I’m begging you” you plead profusely, but he only looks down at you emotionless. “Please, please, please” you cry, your head hangs low for a bit before you raise it up again. “This won’t fix anything! You–– you…JUST TAKE IT OFF” you scream, knuckles colliding with the gold.

You try so hard to think of anything to turn his mind, but he only looks at you like a stranger. Not the little girl he recruited and used to look at with some kind of affection. His type of affection, if you could even title it that, affection.

Sure, he raised you to be a ruthless killer and thief, but you’d do anything in this key moment to change his crooked mind.

“You don’t get to call me that again. You chose your path...I always knew you’d be the one to let me down the most” he says all this with so much venom.

You cry as you're lifted in the air, by his gauntlet hand, and thrown against the bark of a tree.

You're in a daze. The only things securing you back is the hand against your cheek and a booming, choked up "no". Hearing it a distance away.

You open your eyes to see Steve in front of you, your name on his lips almost incessantly. But when you open them, your eyes quickly move to Thor. Who’s a few feet away from the two of you, shocked and angry. The remnant of smoke in the air. You knew he did it.

“We lost?” you ask Steve, tears already forming in your eyes, as he carefully lifts you to his feet.

He doesn’t get the chance to answer you, though.

“Steve…?” It’s Bucky, You both look towards him to see him fall slowly, disappearing into a brown dust.

You both look on, shocked all while Steve tries to drag himself and your weak body to Bucky. But it’s already too late.

“Buck?!” Steve calls out, but there’s no answer.

You watch on in disorder, stomach plummeting with every second that pasts. Your eyes catch Wanda looking onto Vision's body in sorrow and as you do, she turns into brown dust. It was frightening and you were speechless. So much happening around you, you weren’t sure where to look. You weren’t who was going away.

The hand against your spine, holding you up, starts to feel faint and a headache you had suffered from earlier comes back, but ten times stronger.

“My head hurts” you tell him, your words come out slowly as your mouth starts to feel numb. You drop your head to his shoulder. “Stevie...I can’t feel your hands” you blubber, chest heaving as your breathing picks up. Everything was happening so, so fast.

He lifts your head, “Hey, you’re alright sweetheart, you took a hard hit. Just a bit banged up, gotta stay awake in case it’s a concussion” he reassures you.

You don’t believe him and when you look down at your right hand to see it crumbling away little by little. You lift your wrist up, hand gone. You look down to see the brown dust below your view.

You didn’t want to go. You had merely planned your dream future with him. It wasn’t fair your father would be the one to rip that away from you.

“No. No, you’re alright, stop that” he condemns, bringing your other hand to his bruised lips imperatively. Watching as it climbs up and up, half of your shoulder already gone.

“I’m scared. I love you so much Steve”

“I love you so much doll, feel like we’ve been saying it all day” he tries to joke, eyes roaming all over your face. He had to make sure he had your face recognized to a t, even if it was in a manner of pain.

And you do the same. You weren’t sure where you were going. Were you even dying?! You couldn’t tell, all you knew was Steve and some of your friends wouldn’t be where you were going.

You laugh despondently, low, and mirthlessly knowing how much he needed that laugh at the moment.

“No. I’m gonna––” you start, but never get to finish, because at that moment. In a flash, he’s left with the sight of the soot falling in a sway, like leaves tumbling to the ground. Staring at him gloved palms to see nothing of you there any longer.

He does nothing but stand there for a few minutes, recollecting the exchange. Not only was his best friend gone, but so was his best girl.

He had one fucking job. Keep you safe at all times. Not only did he let the whole universe down, he let you down. You were gone. He can only think about the moment you both had on the jet, telling you, you had nothing to worry about. Because you guys were going to win and now she is gone. He let you down in the worst possible way imaginable. You were gone…

He repeats this to himself, losing hope each time that you would be back in just a second.

He turns around to see his friends observing him and once he notices that Sam is no longer among the group it only increases his agony.

“Cap?” Nat mumbles.

“FUCK!” he breaks. Ripping the gloves off his hand before he sets himself against the ground–– his body feeling heavy. His head is in his hand, body heaving roughly as he cries quietly.

Everyone is stunned and takes a step back to give his face, not remembering the last time they’ve seen him this broken or the last he’s had an outburst resulting in a curse word.

He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to live with this guilt or without you by his side. In spite of that, there was no way in hell he wasn’t going to try and find a way to bring you back.

– – – –

realized while writing thing i am not creative...this (beginning) was literally a scene

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x you #chris evans x reader #marvel fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x avenger reader

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ichor-and-symbiosis · 4 years

Text

Breakfast Blues. (Shigaraki x f!Reader, NSFWish)

Tomura could tell something was off as soon as he entered the kitchen. Your smile felt a little too forced, your eyes a little too hopeful as you plated a bowl of rice and eggs for him, hesitating for a moment to speak. It put him in a sour mood. He didn't like having to pry answers from you.

He usually managed to swipe his breakfast away and go back to his room for privacy, but you were making this increasingly difficult for him lately. It started with inane attempts to get him into conversations with you, which really was a stupid idea, given the fact that he never mustered more than a few grunts in the morning. His growling stomach initially helped fighting you off, but you seemed to have a backbone today.

Gripping the dishes in hand, you offered him a meek smile and asked, "Would you like to eat together?"

His eyes narrowed as he frowned. "Why?" his voice croaked out, scratchy and unpleasant from disuse.

"I just thought it would be nice. You're busy a lot, so ... "

"So?" Your confidence faltered under his scrutinizing stare. Something about your dying smile made him even more irritated, or perhaps confused. And he did not like feeling confused. "I'm hungry, woman."

Sensing his displeasure, you wordlessly handed over the breakfast and looked away. Under different circumstances, Tomura liked teasing you in this state. So secretive and cute, your lips set in a stubborn pout and your chin cast downwards for him to inevitably grip and force your attention back to him.

But he was so damn hungry and he had a game loaded on his computer for his return.

Tomura turned to leave, having decided he waited enough for your comeback. It was only the glaring absence of your shuffling feet and the tinkering of cookware that made him pause for a split second at the threshold. Just a quick glance to satiate his curiosity.

You stood exactly where he left you, still looking away, hands wringing together without anything else to hold. Defeated and hurt. The sting of negative emotions welled up inside him so suddenly that he immediately took off, wishing he had a free hand to scratch his neck.

No amount of homecooked breakfast or countless wins could erase his lingering discontent. Tomura tried to ignore that strange encounter with you, burying his thoughts in strategies and shit-talking as he let the time slip away. But try as he might, he just couldn't shake it off. Throwing aside his game console, Tomura leered at the clock and slumped in his chair, annoyed at the realization that you hadn't visited him this whole time.

You were nowhere to be found in the apartment. A cursory glance at his phone showed him a single text from you. I'm going out with Toga. Be back later.

You didn't even send him a heart emoji.

It was a stupid thing to set him off. Everything about today was stupid. You were stupid, he was stupid, his damn neediness was stupid, even the breakfast bowls he brought to the sink were stupid. What kind of world was this, where he, Shigaraki Tomura, successor of Japan's most dangerous criminal, brought his dishes to the kitchen and moped about a goddamn heart emoji.

He needed a drink.

It was a testament to his bad mood that Tomura chose to walk all the way to the bar instead of asking Kurogiri to warp him there. His eyes scanned the streets in a vain attempt to track you down among the crowd, but you were nowhere to be found and he was growing anxious by the minute.

Tomura kicked the door open and hopped the counter to pilfer the expensive liquor stash. His taste gravitated towards the most expensive rum in the collection. He could certainly chase his sorrows away with cheap swill or rubbing alcohol, but if he was going to torture his body tonight, then he would do so with style. It was all worthless in the end, anyway.

He sat by himself for who knows how long. It was utterly pathetic and he knew he had better things to do, yet every time he tried to pull himself away from the counter, his head spun uncomfortably and the amber liquid beckoned him towards a numbing buzz. His phone lay abandoned on the counter, having been checked several times for a text or a phone call from you.

You hadn't even called to find out where he was. He had half a mind to wonder if you would walk through the door to surprise him, but there were only so many times he could glance at the door before the urge to disintegrate it took hold. He grabbed the rum bottle instead, messily pouring more liquor into his glass as he ignored the distortion of the air in front of him. He was in no state of mind to stare straight into Kurogiri's spinning portal. The very thought of it made him slam the bottle down and hold onto it for dear life to compose himself.

Kurogiri appeared behind the bar, quietly assessing the state of his charge. He pulled out a rag to mop up spilled liquor and eyed Tomura's heavy movements as he let go of the rum and took the glass in a white-knuckled grip.

"You are alone."

Tomura grunted, taking a swig to avoid conversation. His guardian was smart enough to immediately pick up his mood. It was both annoying and reassuring to see those golden eyes narrow in astute observation.

"It is rare for your lover to be absent."

"..."

A moment of silence. "Forgive me for being presumptuous, but you seem to be more upset than usual."

Tomura snorted. "Yeah, no shit." He stared at the rum glass in frustration, glaring at the alcohol as though it had personally offended him. His fingertips curled around the rim as he lifted the glass and swirled the liquid around, irate at the stretching silence. It was bad enough he had to deal with your petulant absence. Now he had to endure Kurogiri's calm patience, too.

His fingers gripped the glass tighter as he contemplated satisfying his urge to decay, to give him some form of release from the frustration currently plaguing him. The blaring noise of his video games would be a welcome respite from this silence. Instead, he was forced to nurse a headache while Kurogiri made him feel like a child.

All because of you. You had a hold on him even when you were gone. Perhaps even more poignant because you were gone.

"It's fucking dumb," Tomura grumbled. And it was. The situation was so unbelievably ridiculous that he clammed up again, unable to voice his problems lest he fly into a rage over the mental image of your sorrowful eyes and quivering bottom lip.

"What happened?"

"I don't even know. She's been acting weird the past week and it all blew over this morning." His leg jittered restlessly against the footrest. He crossed his leg over his thigh to regain some semblance of control, letting out a sharp sigh as he scratched his neck. "I just wanted some damn breakfast. That's all. And that woman stood there looking like I broke up with her just because I didn't want to eat with her."

"Were you doing something important?"

Oh, he did not like that question. He did not like it one bit.

"I was in the middle of gaming," Tomura growled through clenched teeth. "Don't even try to bitch at me about it."

"That was not my intention. I know how important your lifestyle is to you." Tomura stared at him, feeling his anger somehow slip through the cracks and fizzle away. Kurogiri took the whiskey bottle beside him and poured more into the emptying glass. "Has this happened before?"

"No. Sometimes she tried to keep me there longer with dumb small-talk, but she's never flat out asked. And the damn look on her face when I - " Tomura cut himself off with a frustrated growl. Your defeated expression haunted him once more. He downed the liquor in one go and reveled in the horrible burn tearing his throat apart. "What the hell does she want from me?" he forced out, staring hard into the distance as a sudden sense of shame stabbed him like a knife.

"If I may speculate ... " Kurogiri paused, waiting for his rebuke. When none came, an answer followed. "You are often preoccupied throughout the day. Perhaps she simply misses you and craves your attention."

Tomura opened his mouth and promptly closed it. A bout of dizziness hit him. Was it the alcohol or the crashing realization of how obvious the answer had been?

The logic of Kurogiri's statement was so absurdly simple that it had to be true. Because you really were just so simple. Uncomplicated in your motives, always wearing your heart on your sleeve, and always so flagrantly loving and patient with him. Tomura looked away from Kurogiri, hating how well his guardian knew not only him, but you, too.

A little flame of happiness kindled deep inside him, threatening to chase away the darkness of his bitter emotions. You hadn't been difficult on purpose this morning. You just wanted to spend time with him.

His bleary gaze settled on the monitor resting at the other end of the bar. How would his mentor react to this situation?

The silence coming from the monitor felt altogether different from what he experienced so far. It was uncomfortable and imposing, filling his ears with white noise and clouding his thoughts. Tomura stared at his reflection in the black screen and frowned, hyper-aware of the way his eyes had softened while he thought about you, the way he looked so boyish and tired.

Look at what she is turning you into, the screen seemed to say.

"Shigaraki Tomura." He tore his gaze away from his reflection and met Kurogiri's expressionless face. "Is it a weakness to enjoy feeling wanted?"

His brows furrowed in thought.

Tomura made up with you in the most typical fashion. That is to say, he cornered you at home and snuffed out any further talk by devouring your lips with incessant kisses, taking you right on the living room couch and stalking after you to your bedroom for more. It was a love language he knew best, letting you feel his feverish desire with every deep thrust, the firm iron grip of his hands on your soft hips and thighs, his groans and whispered demands for more of you, more of your tight heat and your gentle fingers outlining his scars, touching his rough lips, nails digging into his back as you mewl for more of him.

You were hellfire. There was no liquor strong enough in the world to burn him half as much as his need to tell you he loved you. The words clawed and tore at his chest, inflamed his throat until he choked on them, forcing him to spit out twisted versions of the truth. Cowardly, pathetic half-truths about how you belonged to him, how you were his and his alone.

And you still smiled at him for it. You took all that he gave you and asked for so little in return.

Is it a weakness to enjoy feeling wanted?

The question plagued him throughout the night as your arms held him close, his head pillowed on your chest while he listened to your soft breathing and felt the beat of your heart whispering an answer he could not decipher.

Tomura awoke to your absence. It was not a rare occurrence. The split-second paranoia washing over him was not rare, either. He ran from that feeling many times before, immediately sick at the thought of how lonely he felt without you. It was pathetic. He should not feel this way about anyone. He should feel empty, as though you were just a moment of entertainment, an experience to be had and a level to beat in the game of life.

But you were well past that point now. Whether or not he could say it aloud, Tomura was in love. So if you wanted to have breakfast together, then you had better prepare yourself for his morning attitude.

He caught you a little early this time. You were in the middle of stirring an omelette when he crept up behind you, jolting in surprise as he pressed himself to your back and wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Good morning," you greeted him, giving him a peck on the cheek. A light smile played on your lips. "I'm almost done."

Tomura purred a noncommittal response and curled his fingers around your jaw, angling your head back to capture your mouth in a lazy kiss. Your pleased sigh broke off into a stilted noise as he dipped his tongue inside and made sure you felt every slow lick and suck to your lips. His arm tightened in response to you melting against him, mentally debating whether he should let you finish cooking or to find the nearest surface to defile.

A sizzling pop from the frying pan caught your attention. You kissed him hard and returned to your duty, using your spatula to roll the omelette into shape. Your tongue peaked out from your reddened lips as you made a face of mild disgust. "You didn't brush, nasty."

"Didn't stop you though," Tomura countered, grinning at your wry expression.

You spooned the cooked food onto a nearby plate and cracked another egg into the pan. He waited for your invitation, good mood dampening by the second as you settled into your routine without another word. It was an expected reaction, to be fair. He hurt you yesterday and now he was paying for it.

Your questioning glance put him on alert. "Do you need something else?"

He wracked his brain for a response. Something that could keep him here longer without raising further suspicion. "Orange juice."

"It's in the fridge. Can you pour me some, too?"

Tomura forced himself to detach from you, taking his time to complete the task as he watched your progress from the corner of his eye. Cups placed on the table. Orange juice poured at a strategically slow rate. By the time he finished, your breakfast had been plated and you left it unattended to hurriedly put the forgotten box of eggs back into the fridge. Tomura used this distraction to take both plates to the table, setting yours across from him as he plopped down onto the chair and began to eat.

You caught on as soon as the fridge door closed. Tomura could feel your stare on him while he downed the orange juice. He glanced at you nonchalantly, eyebrow raised as though you were the one behaving abnormally.

"You're joining me?" you asked, a hint of hope coloring your voice as you sat down.

"Clearly."

You smiled so sweetly that he felt his heart stammer and restart. "Wow. Can I get you to eat some fruits while we're at it?"

"Don't push your luck," he grumbled, and that was the end of that.

Tomura silently listened to your happy chatter and the clanging of silverware on plates, wondering how the hell he found himself in domestic bliss. Sunlight streamed through the nearby window and illuminated your entire being, heightening your inner glow. You looked beautiful and peaceful. It calmed him far more than you could ever know.

Did he feel weak as he basked in your attention? Did he feel weak, knowing that you wanted him beside you even for the most mundane things?

The answer was undeniable.

He felt strong.

Different from the power trip he thrived on when he succeeded in yet another level.

Different from the sadistic glee he felt when the nomu followed his command.

Different from the sense of duty plaguing his mind when his teammates looked to him for direction.

This inner sense of peace steadied his mind and cleared his thoughts. How could it be weakness when he would tear the world apart for you?

The soft tap of your foot on his knee drew his attention to you. "This was nice," you softly said. "Next time I'll leave a trail of takoyaki outside your room so you can join me for lunch."

He huffed a dry laugh. "Make me botamochis and you got yourself a deal."

"You'll eat sweets made from red beans but not a single fruit ... " You innocently popped another strawberry into your mouth. "Not even these strawberries ... "

"Get over here and give me a taste then," he growled, settling back in his chair with a clear invitation of his own.

You accepted without delay.

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki/reader #shigaraki tomura/reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #this is lame but it's something #tomura is like 'small talk is so stupid' and proceeds to do small talk because he's too emotionally constipated to be straightforward #you may ask how kurogiri knew tomura was at the bar #it's because AFO saw tomura moping for too long and called up his babysitter

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

Among Us: Crewmate Impulse getting an imposter voted out on a hunch, except this time the "hunch" is actually just Ghost Tango somehow yelling at him from the dead loud enough to influence his subconscious/code (this idea brought to you by: rewatching vods from before Tango got his compressor lol)

yeaaaa so this one is gonna have a LOT of caps in it lol i hope that’s okay. i’ll put a cw in the tags as well just in case

also i want to share the fact that this google doc is labelled “Tangy yell” lmfao

…

Impulse is standing at the upload panel when Tango enters admin to do his card swipe. The two exchange “hey”s at the entrance, before Tango heads over to stand at the admin table.

The last thing he sees before his vision goes black is the image of a figure popping out of the vent in the corner.

Tango sits bolt upright with a gasp. “Gaah! Skizz, what the hell?! That was the stupidest thing ever! Impulse is-!”

He breaks off as he spots Impulse turning away and leaving the upload panel without even turning to check the rest of the room.

“Hey,” says Joker, floating through the wall to join Tango in admin. “How’s it-.”

“Are you KIDDING me, Impulse?!”

Joker winces and covers his ears. “God, man… You need a compressor.”

“Impulse was RIGHT there!” Tango bellows, flinging his arms out towards his dead body over and over again. “He was standing FIVE FEET away from me! How did he not even notice I DIED?!”

“Tango!” Astro, who has just entered the room through the wall, yelps. “Inside voices, please!”

Crossing his arms, Tango floats furiously in the middle of the room, his upper half sticking out of the admin table, steaming so hard that he can almost feel actual steam rising off his transparent ghosty body.

“And I thought I was bad at noticing bodies,” grumbles Tango. “‘Least I’ve never had someone die five feet behind me and just left without checking if the person behind me two seconds ago is still alive. Stupid Impulse and stupid Skizz with his stupid face. I hate ‘em. I hate their stupid faces.”

“You might feel a bit better if you decided to do some tasks,” Astro says pointedly, finishing his upload. “So, you know, we have a chance of winning?”

“Don’t patronise me, Zoan.”

Just as Tango turns away, his dead body is finally reported. At the meeting, Tango has to just sit silently and watch as everyone discusses where they saw him last.

“I saw him in admin a minute or so ago,” Impulse reports. “But he was alive when I left.”

Astro winces, already knowing what’s coming.

“ARE YOU MOTHERFRICKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW, IMPULSE?!”

Sure enough, Tango’s subsequent roar shatters the ghosts’ eardrums.

“YOU ONLY THINK I WAS ALIVE WHEN YOU LEFT BECAUSE YOU WERE- YOU DIDN’T- OH MY GOD, IMPULSE!” Tango face is as red as a tomato, the blood vessels sticking out of his neck despite being dead. “HOW CAN ONE PERSON BE SO UNOBSERVANT?! SKIZZ LITERALLY VENTED! INTO THE ROOM! AND KILLED ME! THEN VENTED OUT AGAIN! UNDER YOUR MOTHERFRICKING NOSE! AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN CHECK ON ME BEFORE YOU LEF-!”

Tango’s voice cracks and he breaks into a fit of coughing.

“Oh my GOD, Tango, you need to take it down like a billion notches!” Joker rubs his ears in pain. “Or get a compressor or something, dude! You’re giving me a headache and I’m DEAD.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” Tango lets out a prolonged funny noise, unable to do much else with his now sore throat. “Hate. Hate you all.”

“Stop talking before you lose your voice completely,” Astro says in a dad-like way. “You can get some water when we’re back in the lobby. Just take a moment to-.”

“Oh my god, guys, listen to the meeting,” interrupts Joker suddenly. “Listen!”

“-can’t explain why,” Impulse is saying. “I just think it’s Skizz. I mean, not only does he not have an alibi but also he says he just went into navigation, which has a vent leading from admin outside it.”

“Oh c’mon, that’s circumstantial,” retorts Skizz.

“I feel it in my bones, dude. I just have a hunch that it’s you.”

Astro turns to Tango with an impressed expression. “Dude, I think you yelled at him so loudly that your voice crossed the border between life and death.”

“Good,” croaks Tango hoarsely. “I hate him.”

“You know what, I’ll buy that,” Brody says in response to Impulse’s accusations. “I haven’t seen Skizz all game and he hasn’t really tried to be helpful at all lately, so I’ll vote him off, sure.”

“Oh come on!” Skizz snaps. “Really?”

Impulse nods. “Yup, cuz I know you’re the imposter.”

“As Tango would say: negative!”

“You said he only says that when he’s imposter.”

Skizz opens his mouth but apparently can’t find anything to say back to that.

Tango watches with a certain amount of satisfaction as Skizz is voted off the ship. With the sheriffing of Endless earlier in the game, the round ends and everyone is sent back to the lobby.

Tango immediately storms up to Skizz and glares at him. Skizz gives a chuckle as he gets up off the seat. “Hey, buddy. That was a really good kill, you gotta admit.”

All Tango can do in reply is glare at him.

“Tango lost his voice from screaming at you guys,” Astro explains with a grin.

“Wait, he can’t talk?” Skizz snorts. “That’s hilarious.”

His face twisted in a furious expression, Tango makes a wringing-neck hand movement at Skizz, who laughs and takes a step back. “Oh man, you’re REALLY mad.”

Nodding firmly, Tango turns to Impulse. He jabs his finger at his best friend, then draws it across his neck.

“Why’s he mad at ME?!” yelps Impulse.

“Because I vented into admin, killed him, and vented out again right under your nose,”Skizz snickers.

Impulse’s eyes widen. “No way…!”

“And you left the room without checking on him so you thought he was still alive when you left,” adds Astro. “As he kept saying. Or yelling, rather. Many times.”

“Ohhhhhhh noooooooo…!” Impulse gives his best friend an apologetic grimace. “I’m so sorry, Tango! I had no idea, man.”

Clearly still furious, Tango jabs his finger at him, then makes the same neck-wringing gesture at Impulse, before finally throwing his hands up in frustration.

“I, uh… I think we might need to take a break and get Tango some water,” Impulse says sheepishly.

Tango opens his mouth and dissolves into another fit of coughing.

“...and some cough drops.”

“I’m gonna have permanent hearing loss after that,” grumbles Joker, still rubbing his ears. “I swear to god, I’m not playing with you again until you get a compressor.”

Tango gives him an apologetic and slightly sheepish look.

“So wait, what exactly happened there?” asks Etho suddenly. “Impulse, you had no information and then suddenly you were saying it was Skizz. What happened there?”

“I literally heard Tango’s voice in my ear,” Impulse explains. “It sounded like he was yelling and I didn’t hear full sentences, only bits and pieces. I heard “Skizz”, “kill”, and “vent”. So I put two and two together.”

“Your voice was so strong that it broke through the beyond and reached the realm of the living,” Skizz snickers. “I can’t even be mad about that; that’s pretty awesome. But bro. Joker’s right; you desperately need a compressor.”

Tango rolls his eyes, wishing his friends would stop saying that.

“Anyway, let’s take five and meet back here after,” says Impulse. “Tango, let’s get you some water.”

Etho watches the two of them leave the lobby together, before sitting down on the floor and leaning his head back against the wall. He doesn’t know how it’s possible that Tango managed to get through to Impulse despite being separated by death, but he does know that this can’t be good. There’s a reason the living can’t hear the dead.

Or maybe he’s just thinking too hard about it. If there’s anyone out there who can yell loud enough to make someone who shouldn’t be able to hear him hear him, it’s TangoTek.

Maybe they really do need to get him that compressor.

#friday night stabby #tangotek #impulsesv #skizzleman #cw caps #vaunna’s requests

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jojo-reader-hell · 3 years

Note

BRO I JUST A TOP TIER GAY IDEA. SO OUR FAVORITE HAIR STAND BABE GETS JEALOUS BECAUSE SOME CHICK KEEPS LIKE LOOKING HER AND KOICHI UP AND DOWN. SO SHES ALL "BITCH KOICHI IS MINE STEP OFF", AND CLASSMATE IS LIKE "Girl I ain't checking HIM out boo 👀"......IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITES

THIS WAS A BAD IDEA TO REQUEST THIS WHEN IM BEING A SAD PINING GAY FOR MY GIRLFRIEND.

You think she didn’t notice you staring at them? Staring with those big ol eyes?

Wrongo bucko.

You stared in class at them. Stared when they walked out of the school building, stared when she showered her handmade gifts on him. It was nauseating.

The smell of infidelity, it was something she could get a whiff of in the air like a beagle locked on the scent of butthole balloon cocaine at a TSA checkpoint. Be it if Koichi had a new love interest, or someone was interested in him. Not something someone as paranoid as her would be able to miss even if there were thousands of life’s distractions to put her off the scent. She caught you the first time when she had finally invited Koichi to a cozy little cafe setting, waltzing on by like you didn’t follow him part of the way and glance longingly at their love. She wasn’t fucking stupid. Yukako knew what a longing glance was, and she was going to wring your neck out for it.

Every single time she caught you staring you ran, face turning red as a beet as you scurried away from the scene. At one moment she got so caught up in Koichi’s hesitation that she spilled her coffee and screamed at him.

She also decided after that date and confession got tainted that she was going to slam your face into the pavement, because after she returned from showing that class rep bitch who Koichi really belonged to, she saw you sucking up to him, trying to get sympathy from her one true love. You both were in an empty classroom, Koichi patting your back as you wailed in agony at his feet, kneeling on the floor.

How dare you... how dare you make a move on him behind her back.

You were twisting your skirt in knots, probably trying to make sure he got a peep of your underwear. From where she stood she could see it was a rose print pattern. What a fucking... you were just after one thing weren’t you?!

“How could anyone love me?!” she heard you blubber like a dying walrus. “I... I’ve never even had a boy like me. I’m so stupid and ugly and worthless-...”

“Hey hey hey!”

Yukako was seething. Spewing lava and hate when she saw Koichi lunge to hold you, rubbing your back gently as you got your filthy pedestrian tears all over the blazer of his uniform.

“Don’t talk like that...” Koichi’s voice was so soft, so kind, nothing like Yukako had ever heard before.

“You’re not any of those things. I think you’re beautiful and smart, and funny, and anyone who can’t see that has got to be blind! I think you’re very sweet and lovable too.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah! Totally, I mean if you were even interested I’d even go out with you!”

Now, it didn’t help that you had essentially turned the knife counter clockwise in her chest, sealing your fate forever to be just another teen casualty. Because her mounting rage was of Friday the 13th proportions, ready to burst through the window of your room with a machete in the dead of night and hang your entrails like fairy lights around your wall. She knew when she’d do it too. She was going to patiently bide her time and wait for your little “heart to heart” to end, lurking at the edge of the shadows and planning to ambush you when you least expect it.

That was the plan originally. She was waiting for you after school when there were no witnesses, confident she would get you. But how could she have any clue... Not the faintest idea of what to do came to her mind when she heard you cry out her name.

“Yukako! Yukako Yamagishi, I love you!”

She whipped around, almost too angry to hear what you said until she found herself immobile. You’d taken her hands, nearly falling out of your penny loafers when you leaned in, and you kissed her right on the mouth.

The whole time her eyes were wide open in shock. The mounting rage she felt... the burning flames of hatred, where did it go?! Suddenly her first kiss was gone and she noticed you didn’t really know what else to do from there because all you did was give her a quick peck and you were already shaking and out of breath.

She didn’t even focus that long on her kiss being taken by another girl, too busy wondering what had changed as she watched your eyes glitter wetly with tears.

“Yukako, I’ve loved you ever since the first time I laid eyes on you. I think you’re wonderful, and I don’t care if I’m weird or wrong or whatever, because I love you so much it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

Yukako blinked. That’s all she could do. Didn’t really have the coherence to do much else except blink owlishly at you. All her feelings were in such a jumbled mess, like clothes in a dryer.

“I... I’m not good at sewing or cooking, I can’t give you material things like a sweater with love in the stitches or some adorable box lunch... I don’t even have money to buy you expensive presents. All I have is a heart full of all my love to give, and I’d do anything to make you happy. Will you... will you be my girlfriend?”

It was as if the fire that burned brightly in her heart had burned so hot and fast that every bad feeling, every negative thought or psychotic fantasy she had about you had suddenly gone up in smoke. Every single part of Yukako’s consciousness seemed only left to ash. You didn’t want Koichi. She heard that part as you continued to babble on helplessly despite her silence, completely unsure of how to respond as she learned the obsessive thoughts she had about one person had been the thoughts you had for her. You continued to pour out your heart, not giving her one opportunity to speak. Anyone could hear it in the way that you were talking to her that you were on the verge of breaking down into tears. Your face was contorted into embarrassment, from the kiss she could feel the heat of your cheeks radiating on her clammy skin. You were still holding her hands and she felt her whole body vibrate because of your nerves.

“Yuka-... I... Yamagishi?! I... I’m sorry...!” Now your voice was starting to crack when you realized she was immobilized. “I... I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have kissed you... I...”

Tears. Great fountains of tears and bubbles of snot appeared and melted like ice cream down your cheeks, lips and chin. Your voice only got more choppy and your legs started to give. Her silence was deafening. She didn’t even know what she felt anymore and could only just watch as you sank to her knees, still holding her hands and not making a move to wipe your face.

Without thinking, she squeezed your hands.

The shock of her touch made you squeak like a mouse being crushed under a combat boot. Yukako knelt down to the floor with you. One of her perfectly embroidered hankies peeped out of her skirt pocket, and she only let go of one hand to fish it out as she carefully wiped every tear and bubble, wordlessly telling you to blow your nose as she placed the cloth over your face.

A soft, pale hand touched your burning cheeks. Her skin was so clammy and cold, like a compress when you had a fever it helped soothe you into calming down. A hiccup sounded in your chest, making you look small and vulnerable.

You looked her in the eyes. Locked with her. She saw the passion. The love. The devotion and pure worship. Everything she wanted staring her in the face.

Still unsure, but willingly, Yukako leaned into your space. Her lips cushioned yours, begging for another first kiss.

#jojo’s bizzare adventure #jojo’s bizarre adventure diamond is unbreakable #jjba diu #jjba diamond is unbreakable #yukako is gay #yukako yamagishi #yukako yamagishi x reader #wlw #yandere mention #jjba #jjba x reader #koichi hirose

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beelsnack · 3 years

Note

I know this happens to plenty of people. You work in fast food or retail and your just trying to make a living. Whether your saving to get out of a crappy household ASAP, no matter the job, paying for college, or any other reason and you WILL have shitty jerk customers (At my first job and first day, I was asked if I spoke English because I couldn’t understand him with the mask and there’s a glass in front of the food. Buddy, shush. Didn’t help that I’m sensitive, ended up crying the moment I got home. These jobs are ones where you learn to really respect these workers cause of the crap they go through when you have it as a job)

In this request, the boys visit MC in the human world when they have the chance. So, my request is how would the brothers and Diavolo (the limit was 8 right?) react to coming to the human world one night to visit MC and they see them just crying and just frustrated in general due to shitty asshole customers from work?

I feel it's necessary to let you know that I actually started working on this request while on my break at my retail job.

I'm sorry you had to deal with that, friend. Pour one out for the retail workers out here busting ass during a global pandemic.

Thanks for being patient with me, friend, I know I don't really have a consistent upload schedule.

-----

Lucifer: In hindsight. he could have planned this out better.

Perhaps his own pride was to blame. He had planned to surprise the human by showing up unannounced after their shift, but he had gotten so caught up in the thought of them jumping into his arms out of sheer joy that he never considered that it might not be a good time.

"Hush now, my dear," Lucifer sat down next to where they had slumped against the wall of their living room. The carpet was slightly stained and part of him wanted to recoil, but there were more important things to worry about. "Those wretches aren't worth your tears."

He brought his arm around their shoulders, tugging them against his side and letting his cloak drape over them like a blanket. They snuggled into him almost instinctively, and he couldn't help but preen a little bit.

"I know," they hiccupped, burying their face in the crook on his neck. "It's just...sometimes it's hard not to focus on it, y'know?"

Lucifer didn't, but that didn't mean he lacked sympathy. The demon placed two gloved fingers beneath their chin and tilted their head upwards.

"Then how about you focus on me instead?"

Mammon: Turns out every Realm had its Karens. Who knew?

When Mammon had first popped into the human's place and seen them face-down on the kitchen table sobbing, his initial reaction had been violence. He wanted to find whoever made his human cry and wring the reason why out of their throat. But, after the initial bloodlust subsided, he realized that he had something way more important to worry about.

He sat down on the chair next to them, taking one of their hands and gently running his thumb over the bumps of their knuckles as they choked out what had happened. Mammon had worked his fair share of part time jobs, he was no stranger to the specific torture that was retail. So hearing that his human had to go through that made his heart break a tiny bit.

Not that he would show it, of course.

"A'ight, human, the Great Mammon is here to help." he grinned, standing up. "I know just what you need."

He strode over to their kitchen like he lived there, flung open the fridge and pulled out a bottle of alcohol.

"Mammon," the human rubbed at the dried tear tracks on their cheeks. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but...how did you know where I keep my liquor?"

"Minor details, human!"

Leviathan: His first instinct was to panic.

The human was flopped face first onto their couch when Levi showed up, and his specialty had always been jumping to conclusions. He almost took himself out on their coffee table in his haste to make sure they were breathing.

And then the human almost took him out because the logical reaction to someone suddenly bursting into your home and getting right up in your face was to a) scream and b) punch.

After the comedy of errors skit was over, the two of them were sitting upright on the couch. The human looked exhausted, both emotionally and physically, as they filled him in on their day from Hell.

(Except not because their actual days in Hell were a lot better than working retail, but that was beside the point.)

"...so not only did I have to interact with people, which is already more than enough, I got screamed at because this old lady didn't like the price of something! Yes, Helen, I personally made the prices higher just to piss you off, you've figured out my master plan!"

"Ew, no, do not want." Levi winced in sympathy. "My personal remedy is playing beat-em-ups."

"Your solution to everything is video games, Levi."

"Shh, no thoughts, only Smash Brothers."

Satan: He had so many questions.

What happened? How long had the human been sitting there stewing in their own misery? Where was he going to hide the body?

Satan was a pro at suppressing rage. So even though he wanted to go rip out the vocal chords of every soccer mom with a let-me-speak-to-the-manager haircut within a five mile radius, he reigned it in enough to settle himself down on the couch next to the distraught human and rub soothing circles on their back while they tried to tell him what happened through their sobs.

"Next time, summon me and I'll kill them for you."

"I don't think corporate would appreciate me summoning a demon in the middle of a department store."

"I don't appreciate corporate telling you that you have to stand there and be verbally abused by a wrinkly old hag who couldn't figure out what the word 'expires' meant." he huffed. The human let themselves flop heavily against his side, and when he looked down at them he noticed that the corner of their mouth had twitched up in the barest hint of a smile.

"She was, like, thirty, Satan."

"She was a wrinkly old hag in spirit."

Asmodeus: "Oh, darling, what happened?"

Usually Asmo preferred to be on his knees for a different reason, but the human was refusing to look up, so kneeling in front of them was his only option to be able to see their face. He reached up to cup their cheeks, wiping away a few tears with his thumbs. "Shh, it's alright, I'm here, darling. Tell me what happened."

They sniffled, a few fresh tears spilling over when they blinked. "I-I'm sorry, Asmo, I - "

"No need to apologize, darling." he moved some of their hair behind their ear. "Just let it all out. Bottling up all of those negative emotions will make you break out."

After a few more minutes, they finally calmed down enough to recount the torture that had been their retail shift.

"Ugh, honestly," Asmo shook his head. "Hearing those kind of stories just makes you wonder. How do people get so entitled like that?"

He stood from his kneeling position, reaching down to hold their hands. "I refuse to let any of those awful people contaminate your beauty, darling. You," he let go of one of their hands to boop them affectionately on the nose. "Need a spa night."

"A spa night?"

"Mm-hm!" Asmo hummed, already on his way to the bathroom. "You let Nurse Asmo was all of those icky feelings away."

Beelzebub: They hadn't even made it fully into the living room.

When Beel stepped through the portal into the human's apartment and saw them curled into a ball near the doorway, he was immediately on high alert and checking for danger. Only after he realized that he didn't smell blood and had made sure to inspect all of the places for danger to hide did he lower his hackles.

The human was watching him through watery eyes, and Beel realized belatedly that he hadn't even greeted them. Well, bit too late for that. He crossed the living room in a few long strides and crouched down in front of them, lifting their hair out of the way to check for injuries.

Satisfied that there was no immediate danger, he scooped them up into his arms and deposited them on the couch. "Do you want to talk about it?"

They shrugged, wiping furiously at their eyes. "Just...people at work were being jerks, is all. I'm probably just being a big baby about it."

"No you aren't," Beel sat down next to them. "You're allowed to be upset if people are being hurtful."

That only brought on a fresh wave of tears, and Beel felt a little guilty. He pulled them closer until they were practically in his lap and tucked them underneath his chin like he could physically shield them from all of the awful things in the Three Realms.

"I'll make us some dinner. Everything's worse when you're hungry."

Bephegor: They started nap time without him.

Well, that's what it looked like when Belphie first popped through the portal. But, upon closer inspection, he noticed that the lump under the blankets that was the human was definitely not sleeping. Their breathing was quick and staccato, interrupted here and there by low, hiccupping whines.

They were crying.

Well that wouldn't do. Crying yourself to sleep just gave you a headache.

"Hey," he peeled back the protective layer of blanket to look at the human. Eyes red-rimmed and puffy, with a little wet spot on the pillow where their tears had landed. They sniffled, trying to shrink back into their blanket burrito, but Belphie held first. "Let me in."

He wiggled his way into the cocoon until they two of them were snuggled together, with their head against his collarbone. "Wanna tell me what happened?"

"Humans suck."

"Didn't we solve this issue already?" Belphie snickered when they pushed weakly against his chest. "Why in particular do humans suck?"

With a shuddering sigh, they recounted the events of the day. How they had been screamed at by customers, then scolded by their boss when said customers complained, then treated like actual garbage by their coworkers when the boss took their anger out on their employees.

"...Yeah, humans suck." Belphie tugged them in a little closer, burying his face in their hair. "But you've got your favorite demonic nap buddy here, so you don't have to worry about humans, okay?"

Diavolo: He felt powerless.

It was not a feeling Diavolo experienced often as the Crown Prince of the Devildom, and the few times he did experience it, he didn't like it.

If they had been in the Devildom, he would simply order whoever had made the human upset to be tortured for a decade or two - well, actually, he would have them brutally killed, revived, and then killed again, but the human was a merciful soul and likely wouldn't let him. But this was the Human Realm, where the only influence he had was the intimidation factor of his height and size. So all he could do was hold the human as they sobbed against his chest.

"This isn't fair to you," he mumbled into their hair as they sat on the couch. "You should be in the Devildom, treated like the noble you are. You shouldn't have to deal with these ingrates who think they're better because you're on the clock at that particular moment."

They whimpered softly as Diavolo murmured sweet things to them. Even if it was merely a fantasy, it was nice to think of a world where they wouldn't have to put up with all of the bullshit of retail.

Maybe one day they would take Diavolo up on his offer.

#shall we date obey me #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo

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libra-kirishima · 4 years

Note

Can u do nejire and her flower gf meeting her parents for the first time and she’s extremely nervous. Love ur work btw and stay safe x

I wasn't sure whose parents you were referring to, so I assumed it was Nejire's. I also included Mirio and Tamaki just because I felt like they deserved family hcs too. (They just don't have the flower quirk gf because in my heart she belongs to Nejire.)

I saw someone write headcanons that Tamaki lived with his grandparents and I loved them so much that I wrote something agreeing with that but now I can't find the original author. I'm going to keep searching but if you know them please tell me and I'll tag them.

💙 𝙉𝙚𝙟𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝙃𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙪 💙

Your fingers drummed on the steering wheel nervously. The radio in your car's volume was lowered completely to cool your nerves but the silence hardly made you feel better. Nejire noticed your eyes flicker to her when you thought she wasn't looking and immediately tore them away when she caught you staring.

"Okay, I'll bite." She giggled. "What's wrong?"

"What if they don't like me?" You answered sincerely.

"Why wouldn't they?"

"Well, for starters-"

"No, actually, don't answer that!" She interrupted you. "There will be no negative self talk coming from you today!" Her hand pulled one of yours off the gear shift to hold in her own. "They're gonna love you. You know how I know they're gonna love you?"

"How do you know they're gonna love me?" You rolled your eyes. Her free hand poked your cheek with her index finger, hoping to wipe the frown off your face.

"Because they already do!" She answered. You quirked an eyebrow at her statement. "They love you!" She restated. "They always ask about you, they were super excited to watch you in the sports festival even after I lost, they were constantly bugging me about when I was going to bring you home to meet them..."

"Since when?" You laughed. She seriously pondered your question, tapping her cheek with her index finger as she thought.

"Well they first asked if they could meet you that night that I came out as a lesbian to them." She recalled. "But I asked them to wait until you were comfortable to do that." You felt warmth rush to your cheeks as she explained further. You had gotten it a while back, but let her continue anyways just to hear her sweet voice. Before you knew it you were nearly to the driveway of her parents house. "-Oh and my sister said that she really wished she could be there but she couldn't find anyone to cover for her at the hospital so she wants to see if we can go to lunch with her some time next week- oh we're here!"

"We're here." You laughed anxiously. You step halfway up the path to the front door before you start to panic again. "Oh God, should I have brought flowers? I should have brought flowers! Nejire, stand in front of me."

"Okay, why? Oh-" You pulled her closer to you before opening your jacket slightly and pulling your shirt down. "I hate watching you do this." She sighed as she watched flowers blossom between your breasts for you to pluck.

"It's either my chest or my hair, and I spent way too long making my hair look nice to ruin it over some roses." You argued while you assembled a small bouquet. "You wouldn't have ribbon on you, would you baby?"

"Actually, I do!" She answered excitedly, pulling a spool from her jacket. The same kind she used to tie her hair in the ponytail she was wearing. You cut a strand of the ribbon to wrap around the stems. Before you could state that you were ready to go, she put her hand in front of your chest to stop you. "Wait!!!" She gasped excitedly. Before you asked what she was talking about, she took the last of her ribbon and went around to tie it in your own hair. "Now we match!" You smiled at her softly, overwhelmed with how much you loved her. Her smile was brighter than the sun, and you couldn't help but feel content with the idea of staying there forever. She waved a hand in front of your face. "Helloooo, Earth to (Y/N), come in (Y/N)." You were snapped out of your trance by the sound of her voice calling your name. "We can go in now."

"Right! Sorry." You shook your head, bringing your attention back to meeting her parents. "Right yeah parents! Let's go!" You felt her gently elbow your side.

"Stop getting nervous!" She scolded.

"Thanks, I'm cured."

"Here, hold my hand." You slipped your fingers into yours without hesitation.

Almost as quickly as Nejire knocked on the door, her mother opened the door and engulfed both of you in a hug. "Mom, this is (Y/N). My girlfriend!"

"I'm sorry, (Y/N), I got a bit excited there." Her mother giggled. Getting a closer look at her features, she looked like a clone of Nejire. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too." You answered. "Oh! These are for you." Her mother's heart melted at that gesture and she engulfed you into another tight hug before taking them back to the kitchen. Nejire urges you to follow her in, walking to the kitchen of her childhood home with your hand still in hers. Her father greets you with the same excitement that her mother did, engulfing you in a warm hug to rival her mothers.

"See, it's not just me, we're a family of huggers." Nejire insisted as you sat down to eat dinner with her family.

You had a feeling the rest of the night was going to go well.

💛 𝙈𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙤 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙖 💛

Meeting Mirio's dad was a complete accident.

Mirio expected his dad to be working late that night, so he planned a movie night for his friends. When Tamaki and Nejire pulled out at the last minute, Mirio shrugged and joked about this being planned and it being just the two of you that night. You were still watching movies but neither of you were seeing a thing.

Mirio's lips attached themselves to your neck with a frenzy while his hands slipped under your shirt to hold your waist tightly in his hands. You could feel his warm hands sliding up higher and higher, lifting your shirt with them. Just as he unhooked your bra and slid the straps off of you, you both heard the sound of the front door opening and closing.

"Mirio, I'm home." His dad called from the living room. Meanwhile, upstairs the two of you were scrambling to put your clothes back on before any suspicion arose.

"Where did you throw my shirt?" You whispered.

"I don't know just wear one of mine."

"Nothing says two friends innocently watching movies together like seeing me wear one of your son's shirts." You argued.

"No time for that, just put a shirt on!" He whispered back.

"Mirio?" His dad called.

"Be right there, dad!" He yelled back, shooting you a pointed glare to put on one of his shirts. You huffed in frustration and dug through his drawers for a shirt you haven't seen him wear before.

"I'm gonna go ahead of you, tell him you're here, but try to make it quick, okayyyyy-" His heart stopped at the sight of you in his clothes, tying a knot in the front of his shirt to make it look more like your own.

"No need, I'm ready, I can come with you."

Suddenly he was the nervous one. He sweat bullets the entire walk down the stairs and into his living room, nervously stealing glances at you when you weren't looking.

"Hey, dad. This is (Y/N)," He rubbed the back of his neck as the two of you became acquainted. "I invited her over to hang out! Sorry I didn't get the chance to tell you, I thought you were still working. Aha..."

"Hi! It's so nice to meet you." You added. Mirio's dad greets you warmly. Quickly the two of you fall into comfortable conversation about U.A. and work and your friendship with his son. "-and so instead of doing a work study in the traditional sense, I'm working with Present Mic as a T.A. during the days and we patrol together at night. You know, mostly sidekick work. I'm excited to start!"

"That's great!" His dad said. "Would you want to stay for dinner, (Y/N)?"

"That would be lovely, thank you." You answered with a wide grin. You excused yourself to use the restroom, and as soon as you were out of the room, Mirio's dad turns to his son.

"Is that the girl?" He whispered. Mirio shot his dad a confused look. "The girl that Amajiki said you were in l-" He cut his dad off before he could say anything further.

"Yes! Yep. That's her!" He laughed nervously, pink flush overtaking his cheeks.

"So tell her."

💜 𝙏𝙖𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙞 𝘼𝙢𝙖𝙟𝙞𝙠𝙞 💜

You thought you were supposed to be the one nervous to meet his grandparents, not the other way around. You joke as much to Tamaki after you're seated on the train together.

"Ah- no- I'm sorry, I'm just- no, I-" he stuttered, wringing his hands together in his lap. You slide one of your hands between his to lace your fingers together.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay, honey. I was just joking, I'm sorry." You heard him sigh in relief upon feeling your touch. "What are you so nervous about?"

"I don't know." He admitted. "What if you don't like them?"

"Why wouldn't I like them?" Your thumb began to soothingly rub the mound of his thumb. "I was worried that they wouldn't like me." You admitted.

"They do like you. You've met them before."

"I know but never as your girlfriend."

"Then that should mean that they'll like you more." He answered honestly, moving to rest his head on your shoulder. You instinctively rested your own head atop his.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so nervous."

"It's nice to not be the only one this time." He admitted before changing the subject, hoping to calm both his nerves and yours. Sooner than you had thought, your conversation about Fatgum taking in Kirishima died as the shadow of his grandparents' townhouse loomed above you. A woman who could only be Tamaki's grandmother caught your eye from her spot on the small front porch and waved. You beamed back at her, waving as well.

"Maybe we were both nervous for no reason." You told your boyfriend softly before following him inside. She quickly invited you to join her for a cup of tea in her small garden, and you happily followed.

"Thank you for coming over, (Y/N)." Tamaki's grandmother said as she poured you a cup of tea. You almost didn't process the question at first, overwhelmed by the beautiful sights and sounds of the Amajikis garden. As your eyes tracked a butterfly fluttering from flower to flower, you silently wondered if this was where your boyfriend's interest in butterflies came from.

"Thank you for having me." You answered with a small smile. "Your garden is absolutely beautiful."

Tamaki's grandmother pulled him aside to whisper in his ear.

"Keep her."

#we're trying something new with the vintage anime edits i made as opposed to gifs #tell me what you think if you want to. do we like it better or worse?#bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha imagines #mha x reader #hadou nejire x reader #hadou nejire #nejire hadou x reader #togata mirio #mirio x reader #mirio togata x reader #togata mirio x reader #tamaki x reader #amajiki tamaki x reader #amajiki tamaki #tamaki amajiki x reader #pronouns used: she/her/hers

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lovelytarou · 4 years

Text

just let me adore you

— in which dabi wanted to buy you clothes and see you in only the best cloths there is in the world, the only problem is how you see yourself and he will do anything to prove how much he adores you

pairing: dabi x female!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst if you squint, suggestive

tags: hurt/comfort??, the reader's insecurities (nothing too detailed), negative thoughts, i advise not to read this if you don't want any of that

a/n: i'm so excited to post this that i just can't wait another day!!! also pls give feedback i spent all my love and time in this instead of schoolworks sksksk but really, i hope y'all like this and i'm sorry if i made dabi too soft in this, the fandom needs more soft dabi every once in a while. sorry if i'm putting my inner dabi fuckr in this fic 🤧

“what are you wearing?” dabi asked one night after you emerged from the shower.

you saw him lounging in your shared bedroom, waiting for you as he was scrolling on his phone when you arrived from work. you quickly excused yourself and took a shower with a promise of cuddling with him afterwards.

snaking your arms on his neck, you gave a peck on his cheek and grinned.

“it's one of my old shirts, why?” you frowned, looking down at your clothes.

dabi wrapped his arm on your waist, holding you closer to his body as you sit on his lap. his other hand reached up to your face and tucked your still damp hair behind your ear.

“it looks like shit,” he bluntly admitted while looking in your eyes fondly.

that earned an offended gasp from you as you attempted to wiggle out of his grip but to no avail. dabi may not look like it, but he sure is one muscular guy.

“well, i'm sorry if i don't have such expensive tastes when it comes to casual clothing!” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. the action itself made dabi look down on your breasts and bit his lip.

if only you can see how he sees you right now.

“exactly. you only deserve to wear the finest silk,” his hand travels down your exposed thighs, slightly lifting up the oversized shirt in the process.

“the most exquisite lace that shows off your boobs and your delicious curves,” his voice dropped into a sultry tone, his wandering hands squeezing your sides making you smack him playfully on his chest.

“stop it!” you hid your face on his neck, his jaw resting on the top of your head.

“what? it's true.” he chuckles, kissing your hair.

he brought his index finger under your chin so you can meet his eyes. there is nothing but love and adoration swimming in those beautiful teal irises.

“i love seeing you in fancy clothes, but...” his warm breath that faintly smelled of smoke and mint that makes your head spin fanned your face, his lips ghosting over yours in a gentle dance.

as if the world turned upside down, you're now on your back as dabi towered over you, “you're even gorgeous when naked,”

his lips sealed over yours again and again. that night, he threw your old shirt where it could not be seen anymore and you were more than thankful for it as you spent the entire night making love.

the next few days, dabi made it his mission to buy (read: steal) clothes for you. in the morning after hours of rearranging your guts, dabi basically threw away all of your clothes in the trash and made you wear his shirts. you almost wringed his neck because of that but you let it slide when he told you that he'd replace them with better ones.

back at the league of villains hideout, dabi eyed all of the people gathered around the room. shigaraki's currently holding a meeting for their next attack and here he is, imagining you in the most beautiful outfit he'd get for you.

his teal eyes landed on the back of himiko's blonde head.

heaving a heavy sigh, he kicked toga's seat.

“hey, nutjob” he called lowly, not wanting to get the others' attention.

she scoffed at the nickname before turning her body towards him.

“what is it, staples? do you need something?” she cocked an eyebrow at him, playing with her knife in boredom.

“yeah. you like...cute things, right?” dabi inwardly cringed at his choice of words. never ever in his life did he imagine he would say such things to someone and worst of all, he needed her help.

toga chuckled lightly at him, noticing the small blush on dabi's face.

“oh? what's this all of a sudden? are you taking a liking to me now?” toga's smirk widened upon seeing the latter's growing annoyance.

“in your dreams,” dabi grumbled, “i needed help with something.”

pinching the bridge of his nose, dabi closed his eyes and cursed at himself. after this conversation, his colleague would definitely find something to tease him for. but then again, he's willing to look like a fool if it's for you.

after the boring meeting that lasted for approximately four hours, dabi and toga exited the hideout to raid a few malls.

“i don't understand why you didn't just choose the clothes yourself?” toga hummed, examining a cute top with cat prints on it.

she placed it over her front and modeled it in the mirror before her, posing this way and that. from the corner of her eye, she sees dabi leaning against the wall, arms crossed with a bored look on his face.

“don't you think i wouldn't ask for your help if i can do that?” dabi rolled his eyes in exhaustion, this is taking too much time. the two of them have been in twenty shops already and raided five malls in only half a day.

toga poked her tongue at him and clutched the cute top along with the other clothing. she pushed them all into dabi's arms, making him drop most of it on the floor.

she suddenly stopped and gasped as they exited the store, the neon pink lights reflecting on her eyes as she squealed in delight.

without warning, toga dragged dabi into the lingerie store.

upon entering, the cashier immediately cowered under the counter as the two villains surveyed the place. the person was about to reach for the telephone when toga stabbed the glass counter near their hand.

“don't even think about it,” she grinned down at them menacingly.

dabi ignored them as he looked around. it's filled with many lingeries that he doesn't know which one to look at first. there is no doubt that anyone would love to see their lover dressed in those promiscuous outfits.

his thoughts immediately wandered over to you, dressed in black lace set, writhing under him and making pretty noises just for him.

before his lewd thoughts could wander, he called toga over and nodded his head at the item of clothing he's been eyeing.

“i want that one.”

the first thing you noticed upon coming home was that it's empty. the mugs that was left in the sink that morning was still where you last saw them, the unfolded laundry is still in the basket, and the television in the living room is off.

dabi must not be home yet.

you let a small frown form on your face. you had expected to come home to your beloved boyfriend and welcome you with open arms and kisses.

today wasn't the best of days, to say the least. the series of bad things after another drove you mad and all you wanted was to go home and be wrapped in your lover's hug as if the two of you are the only people in the world that exists.

taking your shoes off, you padded towards your shared bedroom and slowly took off your work clothes and sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh.

rubbing your arms, you caught sight of yourself in the body length mirror at the corner.

your gaze lingered for a long while, eyeing every expanse of skin exposed. you chewed on your lip anxiously as you made your way to the mirror.

your mind was clouded with negative thoughts and jabs at yourself. this is the reason why you hated being alone, you are left with nothing but hate at yourself and there's nobody to pull you out of it. you are suffering by yourself and having to push through it.

slowly, you unwrapped your arms from your sides and stared at the body in front of you. staring from head to toe, listing each thing that you find a flaw, an insecurity, an imperfection.

what did dabi see in you?

you don't have the most attractive body that rivalled any pro-hero's, or a killer charisma, a beautiful face that could take anyone's breath away, your skin isn't as clear as the ones the models in tv and magazines have, you have a lot of scars from childhood and growing up, there are uneven skin color, a wound, and your hair isn't as pretty as other girls'.

so, why? why did dabi stayed? why did he, a handsome, powerful, strong, smart man, asked you to be his girlfriend when he could have anyone he wanted in the world that is much better than you?

tears streamed down your face as your body was wracked with sobs. slowly sliding down to the floor, you clutched your chest as you felt an excruciating agony. repeating over and over in your head why dabi doesn't love you.

through your tears and cry of pain, you didn't hear the door open and close. nor the sound of your boyfriend's voice calling to you or the door to the bedroom opening and the sound of numerous shopping bags falling to the ground as dabi takes hurried steps towards you, who is reduced to a ball of sadness on the floor.

“baby? what's wrong? why are you crying?” he didn't get too close to you at first, expecting you might not want any sort of contact at your moment of vulnerability and decided to ask you instead.

you're still trembling as small sobs leave your lips.

you gasped, shocked to hear that he's home as you quickly sat up and sloppily wiped your tears with your hands and arms.

“d-dabi! you're home!” you sniffled, doing your best to look alright although it's futile since he has already seen you crying your eyes out.

your boyfriend can only look at you with concern filling his eyes. he hovered his hand in midair between the two of you as he looked at your eyes intently. you answered him wordlessly by leaning towards his touch.

it evoked a sigh of relief from your lips as you felt his charred and normal skin, clutching his arm like your life depended on it. and maybe at that moment, it did.

he's relieved to know that he's not who you were upset about, but it didn't lessen his worry.

dabi leaned down to kiss your temple, his lips lingering there as he brought your face close to his chest.

“tell me what's got my baby so upset,” he mumbled against the skin. hearing the deep rumble of his voice against his chest calmed you down a bit.

you closed your eyes as you exhaled, surrounding yourself with dabi. his scent, his touch, the feeling of his heart beating against your ear, his lulling voice pulling you out of your waning thoughts.

“it's...stupid,” you laughed breathily, shaking your head.

“nothing about you is stupid, angel.” he immediately rebutted, pinching your waist.

you hid your face in his chest, not wanting him to see you like this. vulnerable and weak.

“i-i was just having a bad day, and all i want was to come home to you and...” you paused, your thoughts suddenly coming back to you. you fought a sob that threatened to spill from your lips, biting it down.

“i don't understand what you see in me,” you whispered, voice cracking at the end.

he shushed you softly, stroking your hair and rubbing your lower back in circles.

never in his life had he seen you so down. you seemed like the type of person who always got their shit together. like nothing wrong ever happens in their life. he'll look at you and all he sees is this amazing woman who loves to smile and bring happiness in his miserable life.

he admits that he may not be the best boyfriend in the world, but damn it if he didn't even make you happy every second of every day of your life like you did in his.

seeing you so upset makes him want to go out there and find whatever that will make you smile again.

“i'm sorry i'm not home to comfort you, baby. but i'm here now, okay? i don't like seeing you cry, pretty girl.” he muttered, facing your head up to him as he pecked your tears away.

you softly giggled at the nickname.

“you wanna know what i saw in you?” he asked, and you nodded your head at him.

his lips fluttered over your forehead, giving you a kiss there, “you're the most amazing person i've ever met–” another kiss on your nose, “the most beautiful, sweet, caring–” a kiss on your eyelids, the apples of your cheeks, “you're so fucking hot and kind that i didn't know what i did in my fucked up life to deserve you.”

he cupped both of your cheeks in his hands and made you look into his eyes. there's still the same adoration and love in them, it made your heart swell with many emotions just for him. only he can make your heart beat wildly inside your chest.

not letting him say another word, you surged forward and crashed your lips to his in a deep, passionate kiss. a few tears escaped, but this time it's because of happiness and the overwhelming love he have for you.

you were both panting when you pulled away, grinning stupidly as your foreheads touch, staring lovingly into each other's eyes.

“i love you, d'you know that?” you breathed out, pecking his lips once more.

“yeah, i know.” dabi smirked, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up. your legs wrapped around his slim waist in return.

he threw the both of you on the bed, you on his lap as he stared up at you with a lovestruck look in his eyes.

“say it back!” you whined, pouting playfully at him.

he pecked your lips this time and tugged softly on your bottom lip, making you moan.

slowly, you felt him lower you down on the mattress as he placed open-mouthed kisses from your jaw to your neck. the fire ignited inside your core as you gripped his biceps, the way his lips are doing things to you, you can't help but just lay there accept all he had to offer.

“mmm, i love you, too. but i wanted to show you how much instead,” he whispered lowly in your ear before biting at your sweet spot and creating a mark for everyone to see.

his lips traveled lower to where you needed him the most, gripping his hair as you sang beautiful songs for him.

“y/n! are you done, yet?” dabi asked for the umpteenth time that day as he waited for you to come out of your shared bedroom.

you both decided to go on a date and it's been two hours since you told him that you're ‘almost done’. he's been waiting patiently for you, knowing that you'd come out of that room and take his breath away. hell, you can wear the dirtiest rags and he'd still think you're the most beautiful girl he has ever seen.

“just one sec!” you called out from inside.

he couldn't help but groan in annoyance, his patience wearing thin.

he glanced at the time on his phone.

how long are you gonna be in there for?

“babe, i swear if you don't come out of there after five minutes, i'll leave without y-”

he didn't get to finish his words as you came out of the bedroom wearing only the skimpiest, thinnest, and revealing lingerie that left nothing to imagination.

he found himself swallowing his words as his gaze hungrily drank your figure up and down, focusing on every detail, every skin exposed to his eyes.

you decided to tease him, wearing only the lingerie he had ‘bought’ you a few days ago. you were surprised when he did admit he had bought the clothes for you. when asked when he got the money from, he only said that he stole it from some ‘abusive bastard's credit card’.

you shyly standing there wearing a sexy outfit did nothing to his raging problem. within seconds, he stood in front of you, staring at you like you were some sort of goddess that graced the earth and he'd happily kiss the ground you walk on.

“did you...like it?” you hesitantly asked, looking up at him as you played with the ribbons of the lace hugging your body.

his pupils dilated, eyes darkening with want and he picked you up as you squealed in surprise, carrying you back to the bedroom.

“that's it, the date can wait another day.”

#dabi x reader #dabi fanfic #bnha dabi #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #bnha fanfiction #my hero academia #my hero academia fanfiction #bnha #dabi fluff #brO this already has 98 notes??? whAT #100+ notes??? thanks for showing ur appreciation i'm 🤧😭#💫.dabi #tarou writes 🌹#💫. touya todoroki

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saltpepperbeard · 3 years

Text

Fighting the Rain ~An Everlark One-Shot~

A/N: Oh? What’s this? *Cough hacks CHOKES on cobwebs* A one-shot after almost two years of inactivity? Who knew that over-caffeinating was the true key to motivation after all this time! But hello hello everyone! So very happy to be back. I come bearing a bit of Reverent Sweetness™ as a small exercise to hop back into things! I really wish for this energy to continue, and so I’ll be attempting to push myself into getting back into the swing of things.

For the record, I completely and wholeheartedly blame Andy and Cate for such an idea. And I do believe I’ve seen another tub-related piece that was also hanging around in my mind as I thought this up. Whatever the case, thank y’all; your talks and creations fINALLY FUELED ME lmao!

But for now, enjoy some simple Everlark rubadubdub, and without further adoooooo...

Fighting the Rain

No two days are the same, and no two hunts are created equal. Some glow with warmth and yield a plentiful harvest, while others fall into a category of melancholy and disappointment. Unfortunately, as the clouds build relentlessly overheard, my efforts seem to be leaning towards the latter.

My arrows drive into a frustrating nothingness. My pray scurry as if they have an oddly heightened sense of awareness. My attitude grows all the more frustrated and downtrodden. And almost as if to directly mock me, the sky cackles and booms before releasing an onslaught of cold moisture.

Great. I’m quite a ways from home, but close enough to hopefully beat a deluge should it chose to erupt. I hate departing emptyhanded, but don’t feel keen on pushing my luck further. Not when a kindling of annoyance burns within my chest, and the clouds answer back with further rumbling.

I sling my bag over my shoulder and dart with bow in hand, the various unused arrows clinking against my backside. The rain is chilling, biting my skin and hissing against the internal fire. Water is normally apt at putting out flames, but it only serves to amplify mine. My scowl deepens as I continue on, growing damper and colder by the minute.

Aside from the fire roaring in irritation, perhaps it burns for another reason. Perhaps it presents itself now as a yearn for warmth, for the feeling only he can provide. His arms have always been there to chase away the deepest of stings, so of course I would want him like nothing else now.

My step inadvertently quickens, the mental image of his embrace fueling me. A blessing and a curse; the sky groans above and opens up to completion, sending buckets of rain upon me. My desperate speed of course, points to an even extremer drenching effect, my scowl deepening something terrible as I’m quickly soaked to the bone. But in moving faster, in practically flying across the land, the entrance to the back porch quickly appears through the falling sheets.

I waste no time in careening up the steps, practically throwing myself into the house with a hissing groan. But I’m sure such sourness will be short-lived. Such dampness will likely turn anew. Such chilling sensations will be burned off, the embodiment of the sun coming forth to bestow his touch.

Or not.

On the contrary, I’m met with emptiness. Silence. Nothing more than the shivers coursing through my form, and the soft drips of water rolling off my soaked clothes.

My scowl, though now painted with confusion, deepens all the more. Was I too presumptuous? Knowing my current luck, he’s likely elsewhere: wrapped up in the Bakery, next door with Haymitch, or deep in the throes of a painting upstairs.

I shed my father’s hunting jacket, hanging the damp leather to dry before shrugging off my equally-wet bag. My arms come to lace across my chest, crossing in both self-comfort and simmering frustration. Though, my lungs are quick to rattle with a sigh. He’s not responsible for my happiness, and I know so. And I can manage well enough alone when I need to; I’m no stranger to the empty cold.

But God, he definitely helps. He’s everything and more on a rainy, relentless day. And with every hour, with every moment spent with him, it gets harder and harder to deny the growing draw. So used to solitude and survival, and yet now do I find myself wishing for warm company more often than not. How Spring has warmed the deepest reaches of my soul.

I’m about to let my hair down and poke my head out the door to wring it out, when the day continues to prove me wrong. Or maybe, my mental call is answered by the only one who can hear it. Whatever the case, cold limbs run warm and angered heart beats ginger as his voice unexpectedly manifests.

“Katniss?”

My sigh shifts to something of tender relief, blowing out a quivering breath as I feel the instant effects.

“Down here,” I call back.

My chest seems to pound in unison with his footsteps on the stairs. He has no idea, the effect he has. It’s like the dissatisfaction towards the day’s events instantly drains, washing away like the billowing spout outside. Made even more intense, of course, by him rounding the corner.

I should be used to this. This is something of normalcy now. And yet, my breath still manages to hitch, coupled with the stutter of my heart. As usual, he beats me to talking, grinning his endearing smile as his blue eyes lay upon me.

“Hi, my love-” His voice and the expression are short-lived; he must have gotten a proper look at my state. Yes, the widening and wandering of his eyes confirm it, as does the speed in which he reaches me.

“Oh...God, you’re soaked!”

“That obvious?” I grumble through the hairs plastered to my face, though twinges of amusement exist therein.

“A bit!” he softly chuckles, reaching up to brush said strands away. An action which, is unsurprisingly topped off with a kiss, a very tender one against my glistening forehead. In missing him, in wanting the mellowness from my flower, I move for more. I chase after his lips as they depart, quickly bringing forth my own. The tender connection causes me to contently sigh, particularly when I can feel him smiling. We hold each other in the gentle lock for a few ginger beats, before he pulls free- oddly looking sheepish.

I cock a brow at him, which seems to be enough to pry an explanation.

“Didn’t know it was supposed to rain today. Really ah...puts a damper on my plans.”

I roll my eyes at what appears to be a pun, and he laughs a bit before grabbing the back of his neck. I cannot help but pry further.

“Plans?”

“Yeah...”

He puts on the shy smile which likely stole my heart all those years ago, and looks down in the direction of our feet.

“I ah...Drew you a bath. Thought you would like it after a long morning of hunting. Seems kind of counterintuitive now though.”

There it goes, the departure of every ounce of cold, of negativity. Akin to Spring melting the deepest reaches of Winter, easing the snow into the Earth and drawing forth blooms. I’m sure his thoughtfulness will never cease to soften me into awe. And, though it seemed impossible years ago, what with all the roadblocks and challenges that stood in our way, I’m sure my love will never stop heightening.

I find myself hushed into an affectionate silence, my cheeks blushing all the while. Before he can doubt the validity of his decision though, or doubt himself to any other degree, I leap back to him once more. My mouth dusts across his tender cheek first, before selfishly seeking out another caress of his lips.

“No,” I assure when we finally break, “No. That sounds nice.”

“Really? Fighting dampness with dampness?”

“Well, yeah. One is awful, cold, and from rain, and the other is inviting, warm, and from you.”

I’m surprised, though absolutely not, to see a glint flash through his shyness, his smile turning a bit more crooked to match.

“Hmm. Not yet it’s not.”

I roll my eyes and give his chest a playful shove. He of course laughs, and softly grabs my wrists, pulling me close for yet another kiss. I sigh against him, falling all the more into a state of contentment. Unsurprisingly, a trio of relatively new words present themselves on my tongue. Though, in yearning for Peeta, in having my heart beat deeper and faster for him day by day, their utterance feels more and more natural.

“I love you...” I whisper for him to capture, “Thank you.”

He grins so hard our connection breaks, and I can practically feel the heat from his blush, effectively triggering mine all the same.

“I love you too. Now go ahead- can’t have the bathwater turning into sitting rainwater.”

I let out a huff of mirth, and give one last parting kiss before taking him up on his offer. There’s a small bit of apprehension towards leaving him so soon, but I remind myself that this was his doing. The warm water will carry his essence, surely, ushering me away from all the troubles of the morning.

And so I walk up the stairs towards our bathroom, humming softly as I envision what awaits. Dampness to fight dampness indeed; I’m met with a plume of steam when I open the door. But quite quickly, it proves to be a far better option than that of outside.

Unlike the rain which chased me away, this draws me deeper into the bathroom. The steam is like a warm blanket, or a hug from Peeta, wrapping around my slightly shivering form. When I inhale deep enough, it seems like I catch notes of something floral- lavender, maybe? All the more thoughtful of him to doctor it up so.

My cheeks flush, and I quickly rid myself of my soaked garments, plopping them into a wet heap on the tile. My skin is quick to pimple from the biting air, so I’m even faster to slip into the beckoning tub.

And I cannot hush the contented moan that slips from my lips. It’s wonderful. Heated just so, smelling so sweet. My eyes roll shut with a sigh, and I poise myself to slip deeper into the watery embrace. That is, until the day continues on with its ever-changing events. That is, until a jostling of the doorknob halts my movements and breaks the relaxed trance.

Out of pure reflex, I draw my knees up towards my chest, hugging myself and hiding my body away. An action birthed from years of apprehension, and one that immediately unravels at the sight to follow.

Because it’s Peeta, of course it’s Peeta.

But the unexpected element is that he too, stands completely bare, all of him on displayed for my stunned, flustered eyes. I find his own first, and though he’s grinning, I can see that same shyness playing across his features. Much to my blushing dismay, my gaze cannot help but drift to the space I’ve become recently acquainted with. It’s still so new to the both of us that the hitch of my breath is answered by one in return. Warmth seems to travel to more than one place as I gaze at him, though my grey stare wanders to where it’s most prominent, his cheeks utterly rosy with red.

He shifts himself a bit then, looking down and snickering softly before catching my eye once more.

“Too much?”

A shiver rolls down my spine. I’m not sure what he has planned, but I have a feeling I won’t be opposed to anything he brings forth. Thus, I’m entirely earnest as I shake my head, releasing my knees fully.

“No,” I murmur, giving my lips a quick lick.

“Mind if I join you then?”

“Already seem pretty prepped to do so.”

He laughs his beautiful laugh, before blue interlocks tightly with grey. In knowing he’s silently asking for permission, a nodding gesture of my head brings him forward. I watch as he walks towards my backside, and I believe I’ve placed his intention. I slide forward a bit then, allowing him space to slip in behind me, should he choose to do so.

Sure enough, he does, momentarily sitting on the tub’s lip to unclasp his prosthetic before sliding in, the water sloshing a bit and rising from the introduction of another body. And, of course, it seemingly grows warmer, his form, his raw form, utterly reaching the depths of my being.

It’s ridiculous, considering he’s gone where no one else has, but I find myself somewhat timid. Maybe because it’s yet another new form of intimacy. I never really considered so many existing aside from the more carnal ones, but Peeta continues to surprise me. And where I find myself unsure, he also is there to softly guide me.

His warm hands gently slip to grasp my shoulders, and with a gentle tug, he ushers me to lean back against him. I don’t protest in the slightest, venturing back with his grasp and gasping ever so slightly when skin meets skin.

It’s different. Our bodies have been unified before of course, tangled and messy and desperate. But this is...different. It’s vulnerable, it’s tender, and it’s...comforting.

It’s everything. Just as he is.

My thoughts momentarily blip back to the former however, when I feel...him wedged between us. I squirm a bit, my breath hitching as more intense thoughts threaten to invade. But the more I feel, the more I lay against him, the more I realize that he’s relaxed.

And that it’s simply us. All that we are, together.

The thought settles me, and I sigh as I fully melt against him. Every bit of tension saps from my body, and my form seems to meld perfectly into his. His head comes forward to nestle against mine, and I can feel him smiling, the heat evident as he nuzzles and offers the occasional kiss.

I’m back to humming, back to closing my eyes, utterly slipping away like he intended, like I wanted. I had felt almost selfish before, wanting this so badly. But then again, it was nigh impossible not to; it does exactly the intended purpose. I’m ushered to plane where it’s just he and I, where nothing bad exists. I’m taken to a place of pure warmth, of pure love, everything else falling away.

As blissfully lost as I am, I of course have no choice but to vocalize once more.

“I love you so much...”

His turn to hum, as if he’s absorbing and ingesting such sacred words. But all the same, he presses a kiss to my cheek before returning the sentiments.

“And I love you...”

I’m prepped to simply drift away, waiting for my body to become so relaxed that I doze off against his chest. He denies me the opportunity though, but I don’t complain, his fingers coming up to nestle into my messy braid.

“May I?”

When I nod, he begins to softly unravel the intertwined strands. An easier task than usual, as the rain and running left it loose. I give my head a gentle shake when I feel it entirely unwind, fully freeing the waves of darkened ebony.

“Beautiful...” I hear him whisper, and before I have a chance to respond, before I can really even process, his fingers venture in further, sifting through swaths of black to dance atop my scalp.

Any crinkle of my nose towards his compliment instantly dies with such an action. He rubs, massages, the pads of his fingers driving me into an entirely different state of bliss. How is he able to do this? How can he affect me so? How can he drive my body and soul to places unthinkable?

I guess if anyone could be able to do it, it would definitely be Peeta. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I fall even deeper, my skin sliding against his as I descend a bit into the water. He snickers softly, but continues on with the massage. Or wash, perhaps? I think I can smell even stronger notes of flora and sweetness. Whatever the case, I can barely think, barely process, utterly mollified and melting.

So much so that I think my chin eventually brushes the water’s surface, effectively snapping me back into reality. With it, comes a hint of something else. Further selfishness? Guilt? Desire to return? Either way, my whisper breaks through the gentle steam.

“Peeta?”

“Yeah?”

“I feel like...We need to switch places. Take turns.”

His fingers momentarily halt, before he laughs and continues on.

“No. No no- this is more than enough for me. It’s perfect.”

“But-”

“Just enjoy it, love,” he murmurs, “Really. I’m just...happy to be here with you.”

So sweet, sugary sweet, sweeter than the confectionaries he specializes in. Surely something that would have earned a tense scowl years ago; now it draws forth a ghost of a smile. It makes me want to consider the journey, the steps we’ve taken to come to this very moment. But in the delightful erasure, all the pain and hurt is numbed, cast aside in the eyes of our affection.

What it fails to erase however, is my want to be stubborn, my need to please in return. Though blips of meekness still linger, shyness still evident amidst my cheeks, the former drives me and overrides. With a bit of difficulty in the porcelain space, I pivot around to face Peeta, connecting our stares with my smile running to a playful scowl.

Though there’s a slightly confused lift to his brows, he’s grinning immensely, an expression that acts as magnetism between our mouths. I kiss him for just a moment before carrying on with the intended plan. Just as he had done with me, I reach up with both hands, curling my fingers through his ashy blonde locks. I hear him shakily sigh, though the silence it what truly drives me onward; no argument is being made.

My pads nestle deep into his hair, softly rubbing and massaging like he had done for me. It’s lovely, returning the sentiments, returning the newly found intimacy. Unfortunately though, in doing so, I fail to recognize the more prominent form, the more familiar.

Perhaps it’s Peeta’s shaky hand that comes to rest at the small of my back, or the realization that such a position has put him directly at eyelevel with a more than desirable part of me- at least to him. I subsequently bite my lip, blush, and halt at the thought, slipping back to my previous perch.

Sure enough, when I pull away to get a look at his face, the flush to his cheeks and flare to his nostrils paint the correct picture.

“Too much?” I ask, parroting his opening question from earlier.

“Hmm, uh, a test of will perhaps, yes,” he replies with a shaky laugh.

It’s my turn to snicker, reaching to gently cup his face with a hand.

“Sorry. Might make this take a different turn.”

“I mean, it could, if you wanted,” Peeta murmurs, his grin turning crooked once more.

I let out a huff of mirth, softly shaking my head.

“Seems inevitable. But I dunno...I do like this.”

Peeta’s smile shifts back to a warmer tonality, pivoting his face to kiss my hand a kiss before responding.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like you said, I’m just...happy to be here with you. Always.”

His words repeated off my tongue are perhaps more loving and beneficial than the stroke of my fingers; he lights up like the sun, burning away the fog between us as his sapphire eyes sparkle.

“Always,” he reaffirms with a whisper, giving my hand another kiss before continuing, “Whatever you’d like then. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Whether I nestle up against his chest, lay back against him once again, or get ravished atop towels on the bathroom floor, the thick clouds of steam refuse to reveal. Whether they remain entirely chaste and grey, or heated and dripping, they encapsulate us, locking us away from the morning, from the bad.

Just as he does for me, and how I hopefully do in turn.

Oh, how life is simpler, more bearable. How the negatives turn into things so much more desirable. And how humorous is it that I find myself longing to get caught out in the rain once more.

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gallickingun · 4 years

Text

reassurance || oikawa tooru

SUMMARY: You and Oikawa Tooru have become close after spending weeks partnered together in your college course. You have an unspoken relationship, nothing exclusive, but Oikawa plans to change that once he realizes a toll his other female fanatics have on you and your confidence.

PAIRING: Oikawa x Fem!Reader RATINGS: T+ WARNINGS: language, negative feelings, anxiety, etc. WORD COUNT: 3.8k+

Author’s Note: This is my very first Haikyuu!! piece. I’m not sure how it ended up being Oikawa, but here we are! In the future, if you guys want, I’ll definitely do more Oikawa but also Sugawara, Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kageyama!

The jersey sits heavy on your shoulders – as if Atlas himself had bestowed the burden of carrying the weight of the world to you personally. Your back aches but you stand when the set is thrown across the court anyway, hands held close together in preparation of a clap.

He always gives you a reason to redden your hands in praise.

When the ball slams onto the court, his eyes turn to you – dark and playful, the lilt of a smirk on his lips. His left eye drops in a wink and as you bring your hand up to wave, your body tenses at the sound of screams from just behind your position in the bleachers.

“Oikawa!” They drag out each syllable of his name for an excessive amount of time, and the flirtatious drawl of their voices makes your skin crawl. They giggle in unison, a flurry of voices trying to be louder than the last, their laughter echoing off the gym walls, “Great serve!”

Your hands wring together in your lap as you find your seat again, eyes downcast so you cannot make out the frustrated expression on his face when you back down from them. He grits his teeth and curls his fists, but anyone looking on and unaware would believe he was just pushing himself to newer limits, a higher level to achieve. He is not known for his tendency to stagnate, especially not in a game where there are newscasters and reporters present, scouts for national level teams scattered in the stands.

“I heard he’s seeing someone,” a higher-pitched voice chimes in, just across your shoulder. Before you can turn your body to defend yourself, or the girl in question can continue, another one further to the left butts in, “Yeah, but I heard it’s not exclusive. Which basically means he’s still fair game.”

“He’s not a piece of meat, guys.”

You’re thankful for whichever third voice of reason pipes up, but the sheer number of girls giggling behind you does little to quell your spiraling nerves. The pit of your stomach is in shambles, your arms wrapped around your torso in an attempt to hold yourself together while the last set of the game winds down.

They’re not wrong, per say. You and Oikawa aren’t exclusively dating, not really calling one another pet names, or holding hands across campus. At most, you’re comfortable, your bodies walking in synch from building to building, finding it easy to fill the otherwise awkward silence with talk, or comfortable just basking in the quiet. He will throw an arm around your shoulders and kiss your temple, but the actual affection is saved for when he walks you to your car or you spend the evening studying in his dorm.

The two of you started off as lab partners, forced to spend extra time outside of class together to study and put together a project that’s worth a decent amount of your semester grade. In that time, you’d grown to enjoy his company, and he started inviting you out with his teammates and their friends after practice and to parties, and even to study together for other subjects outside of the lab class you were taking.

It was not long before your mouths found one another and your hearts grew to become intertwined.

And now, here you are, stood in the stands, your body on the edge of your seat as he twirls the ball in his palms, blowing a breath through his teeth as he steps to the edge of the court. He toes the white line, as if mentally marking the spot, the start of a smirk on his lips as he grows more confident with each passing second. Your heart stalls within your chest, just as it always does, when the ball is thrown into midair, spinning so quickly you can hardly see the multi-colored stripes, rather each piece blurring together to create one dark hue.

Oikawa manages to throw another service ace, bringing the game to match point in favor of your school’s team. As the ball is rolled back underneath the net, he turns to look at you, undoubtedly gazing directly into your eyes, tilting his head in your direction and blowing a kiss from the center of his palm.

You reach your palm out into midair, stretching your digits so your hand is wide open. It is a silly thing, something the both of you started when you had to be across campus from one another, unable to meet up for lunch or coffee or studying. After a moment, your fingers wrap around your empty palm, grabbing his intangible kiss from the space between you. He watches intently as you press your digits against your lips, the ghost of his kiss on the ridges of your fingerprints. As your mouth curls upward in a smile, Oikawa’s expression lilts to match your own, the faintest hint of dimples dipping into his cheeks on either side.

“If you think that was for you, then you’re delusional,” the tinny-voiced girl from before leans down to whisper in your ear, her hand menacingly placed on your shoulder, like a weight meant to sink you to the bottom of the ocean. “It was obviously for me. I have my linguistics course with ‘kawa, and he and I were partnered up for a project this past week. He’s so totally into me, even offered to carry my books.”

Her heels look pointed enough that she could pierce your throat or your eye with the tip, so you merely shove her hand off of your shoulder and turn around, clapping as Oikawa tosses his next serve up in the air. You rally with the rest of the crowd, whooping and hollering when his hand hits the ball, a loud echo from the slap making you wince.

When you look up, the ball is in play, volleying back and forth from one side to the next. Oikawa’s face is flushed, hands at the ready as he takes his position. After a few more moments, a perfect set from Oikawa to your team’s ace lands them the final point they need to win the set.

The entire crowd goes ecstatic, everyone standing to their feet, ringing their bells and blaring their horns, clapping their hands as the boys on the court jump up and down and hug one another. Oikawa has his arm around the ace, tugging him to tell him something close in his ear, but his eyes wander to the crowd, finding you in an instant, dropping his left lid down in a wink. You can’t help the way your heart constricts within your ribs, like a caged dove desperate to fly free. Your hand are over your face as the teams both line up to thank one another for the game, and once they are released to the locker rooms, you start to gather your things.

You hear a snicker from above you, and when you turn your head, a thin, beautiful brunette with blue eyes is glaring down at you, a smirk tugging upward on her thin, peachy lips. She cackles, crossing her arms over her ample chest to multiply the appearance of her size, “I hope you’re not waiting around for ‘Kawa. Prepare to be disappointed.”

“Disappointed in what?”

The familiar, smooth voice in your ear sends your whole body into a stupor. You look over your shoulder, but he’s already so close to you that you can feel the heat of him against your side. Oikawa’s palm slides into the back pocket of your jeans and your tongue lolls back in your throat, near choked on the organ as you watch him sidle his attention to the girls stood behind you on the next row of bleachers, an unassuming expression aligning his features.

Your body flushes with heat, face warm to the touch and your backside where his hand is currently placed is practically throbbing at the attention. Oikawa pulls you in tighter, your body tucked into his side, and he smiles, eyes near-sparkling underneath the fluorescent gym lighting.

“Hey pretty girl,” he kisses the crown of your head, squeezing you with his elbow that is around your back as best he can, “did you enjoy the game?”

Glancing up at him, you make eye contact and it floods your body with a familiar warmth, your stomach doing flips and your heart pattering within your chest, “Yes, you did so well! That’s two more service aces than last game!”

“That’s my girl.” Another kiss is pressed to your temple, his lips warm and smooth against your skin. You note that he’s being even more affectionate than normal, and you have to wonder if it’s in response to seeing those girls encroaching on your space. “Now what was this about being disappointed? Not in my game, was it? I know I screwed up a couple of times, but I think I redeemed myself alright!”

You turn to the girls stood in the bleachers, their faces paling in color as their jaws hang open just slightly, his words doing little to reign them in. The expression on your face has morphed into one of self-satisfaction and smugness, lips quirked into a smirk, one brow cocked upward, “No, ‘Ru, I think you did great. These girls were just worried you weren’t paying attention during the sets, is all.”

Oikawa stifles a laugh before it can break through the aloof expression he is wearing, eyes wide as he narrows his gaze to the group of college girls now stammering and blushing in regret for sticking around this long. He reaches behind his head to rest his palm on his neck, cocking his jaw slightly to the side to relay even more of an innocent appearance. You turn your body closer to him, his chest pressed against yours from the side, your arms circled around his waist. Now his hand in your pocket is on full display, thumb jutted out from the fabric, but the other four fingers are perfectly slotted against your backside.

“I’ll admit I was a little distracted,” he scrunches his nose, eyes crinkling at the edges as he does so. He turns from them to you, sliding his other hand down your ribs to your free pocket, aligning the fronts of your bodies so your chests are flush. Oikawa’s honeyed gaze is lingering on you, and for the moment you feel like there is a spotlight on the two of you, center stage as he brushes the tip of his nose against the bridge of your face.

“I knew you were coming to the game, all decked out in my jersey. I couldn’t help but stare at you between sets.” Your cheeks burn as he kisses your forehead, but you can’t help the uneasiness that you feel swirling in your stomach, dripping down your throat like acid. You wonder if his intentions are pure – is he truly claiming you as his in front of this crowd, or is he merely trying to throw them off of his scent, using you as bait?

Oikawa tugs on the hem of the jersey adorning your torso, something akin to pride shining in his warm irises, quelling the turmoil in your belly for just a moment. “You look adorable in my clothes.”

The shrill one out of the three speaks up, pushing herself onto her tip-toes to appear taller, looming down over you both, “B-But I thought you guys weren’t allowed to let other people wear their jerseys?”

“Oh yeah,” Oikawa waves his hand in midair, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, “I got special permission from the coach, he said since I was the one who closed our last few games with those service aces, he’d let me loan the jersey out to my girl.”

At the mention of my girl, Oikawa turns to kiss you on the forehead, tucking your head beneath his chin as he holds you closer. He smiles over the top of you at the group of girls, a smug tone seeping into his words, in spite of his innocent expression, “Are you girls here for someone?”

They all begin to stutter in jumbled tones before scrambling down the bleachers, apologizing and taking their leave. The door to the gymnasium has hardly shut before Oikawa bursts into a fit of laughter, holding you by the arms as he takes in your bashful expression. He leans down, trying to remain close despite the noisy crowds maneuvering their way through the gym, “You wanna grab something to eat? Coach gave us tomorrow off from practice, so I don’t have to head back to the dorms just yet.”

“Yeah,” you nod, your hands pressing flat to his chest, jersey stuck to his skin with sweat. You scrunch your nose in response, shaking your head and forcing a disgusted sound from the back of your throat, “You better shower first though, Tooru, cause I’m not going anywhere with your stink.”

Oikawa squeezes your backside gently with his limited grip, hands still stuffed in your pockets, “I’ll be out of the locker room in a few minutes. You can wait for me in the car, okay?”

Your hand finds his keys, jingling as you move your hip, the lanyard weighing heavy on your beltloop, “Yeah, okay.”

His eyes find you instantaneously, your tone dropped an octave as you loop your index finger through the o-ring that his car key is attached to, your knuckle crooked around the cool metal, as if you were keeping it safe from harm. Oikawa pulls you forward with a gentle tug against your backside, your body enraptured with his as he looks down at you, his nose brushing your forehead.

“Thank you for coming,” Oikawa’s lips are against the dip in your brows, running down the bridge of your nose, “I think you’re my favorite good luck charm.”

You can’t help but chuckle sarcastically, your fists curling around his jersey, “As if you need any good luck, ‘Ru.”

Oikawa withdraws his hands from your pockets, but pats your ass gently, causing you to stumble into him until your bodies are flush. He laughs into your hair, kissing the crown of your head affectionately before releasing you.

He’s walking away, but he makes sure to call over his shoulder, “Of course I don’t, I’ve got you!”

You’re trying to contain your blush all the way back to his car, wringing your hands in front of your body, twirling his car keys between your knuckles. You play with the fob attached, his name embroidered with his number and the school’s logo – a gift you bought for him a few months into the semester. He pulled you into his lap when he made out what it was, his hands cupped around your thighs as your knees settled on either side of his hips, gentle words parting his lips: “How is it you already know me so well?”

You are alone in the car for a good twenty minutes, and you pass the time by listening to the radio and scrolling through several of your social media accounts and checking your emails from various professors. Before you know it, he’s startling you when he opens the driver’s side door. You press your hand over your heart, eyes widening as he slips into the front seat, long legs slotting beneath the steering wheel.

Oikawa reaches across the console to press his palm to your thigh, squeezing the fleshiest expanse of skin gently, “Hey, pretty girl. What’s got you thinking so hard?”

Your palm finds his knuckles, a soft smile upturning your features at the gentleness of his mannerisms. Oikawa’s thumb brushes back and forth against the inner seam of your jeans, leaning his torso closer so he can nudge his nose against your cheek in a teasing motion. His smile can be felt against your skin, the corners of his lips upturned along your jawline.

“You.”

The answer is nothing short of truthful. He does not have to know in what capacity you’re thinking of him, only that you’ve given him the real reason as to why your brow is crinkled and your gaze is far-off rather than focused on him. Your heart twinges within your chest and your stomach grows sour the longer you think about those girls and what they had to say, how quickly they disregarded you.

“You’re adorable,” his mouth finds your cheek in a chaste kiss before he settles into the driver’s seat and shifts the car into reverse. Oikawa’s hand never leaves your thigh, pinned there by the immovable force of gravity, held in place by sheer will. Even as he orders at the drive-thru and maneuvers the car to the nearby park, his palm does not waver. It spreads a contagious heat, like a virus pricking at your veins, begging to be let in to devour you whole until you are nothing but a shell left behind by his affections.

Before you know it, the car is parked and Tooru is helping you out of your side of the vehicle. His hand is on yours and you almost stumble on your way to the meadow-like section of the boardwalk. You toe off your shoes and kick them to the side, sat in the grass as he straightens out a blanket he keeps in his car for times like these.

You are quiet as you nibble on your food, playing with the wrapper in between bites. Oikawa lets you stew in your own thoughts for a few minutes before he is breaking the silence, leaning his body into your personal space to shatter the box you’ve built around yourself.

“Is everything okay?” Oikawa’s hand is on your knee now, searing into your skin with the ridges of his fingertips, “You’ve been rather quiet since we left the gym.”

Immediately, your mind is thrown back to the scene you witness just before leaving. The group of girls all ganged up against you, sneering and snickering at your excitement at Oikawa’s success, as well as his affections towards you. Doubt crawls up your spine like a shadow, clutches it’s spiny claws into your shoulders and latches onto your skin, an itching starting that you know cannot be quelled with words alone.

“Wh-What did you think of those girls at the end of the game?”

You are taking a chance, stepping out onto a tightrope with no net underneath to catch you if you fall. Oikawa owes you nothing – there is no commitment, no promise that the two of you have made to one another. Is that not what the girls were saying? That you were not exclusive to one another, and therefore you have no claim to him.

The entirety of your body grows heavy as he speaks his next words, those golden brown eyes finding something off in the distance to focus on, “They were pretty, I guess. Not really my type, how about you?”

It is meant to be a joke, you think.

Oikawa is using his typical flat tone that he has to channel for when he is being overly sarcastic and must mask it before his façade falls into a fit of giggles. And still, the twitching of his lip, the telltale sign of his impending grin, does nothing to force your fear to the side. Rather, it multiplies at his false confession, building to a crescendo of acid within your belly, lapping at the innermost parts of you until you’re broken in the worst ways.

“Hey, I’m just teasing-”

A palm brushes your cheek but you are too numb to notice. Your eyes are lost, focused in on one blade of grass near your feet, trying to count the shades of green that reflect off the moonlight up above. The air surrounding you is like a balm, but you wish it were a salve; anything to help soothe the burning of your soul.

The charred ashes within your stomach start to suffocate you, floating up your esophagus until they burn the base of your throat and choke your tongue from the inside out. Tears simmer against your lashes and your face flushes with the threat of emotion taking over you like an apparition.

The feel of a knuckle against the underside of your chin, the fleshiest part, is what breaks you from your downward spiral, Oikawa’s voice quick to follow, “You can talk to me, you know.”

Your hands seek out his proximity, palms curling around his sweatshirt as the temptation to ask your questions sits on your tongue. The acid drips down the muscle to the back of your throat to meet the ashes, your jaw locked as you try to speak. Oikawa’s hand expands along your neck, thumb brushing against your jugular to coax the words from the base of your throat.

“Do you like me?”

A silence stretches between the two of you for a short moment before his fit of giggles breaks through it. Oikawa slots his hand into your hair and nuzzles your nose with his own, “Do you really think I would ask coach to break the jersey rules for me if I didn’t like you?”

You begin to babble, stuttering syllables crossing your lips as you try your best to defend yourself. Your hands go clammy and your tongue feels thick in your throat, eyes flitting across his face while you attempt to compose your emotions. Before you can force a full sentence from between your teeth, Oikawa has captured your lips in a kiss.

His mouth against yours melds your thoughts together until your mind is mush, unwilling and unable to create coherent thoughts. Your fingers shake against the fibers of his sweatshirt, shaking with the need to have him closer. He feels your desperation and smiles into the kiss, his own hands curling around your frame. He wants you closer now, as if the non-verbal confession has created something new between the two of you, a fresh bloom to admire and showcase.

As he pulls away, Tooru is still grinning, “I didn’t want to rush you, but I want you. Whatever that means for you. Relationship or not.”

“Relationship,” you are quick to answer, eager as you push yourself up on your knees, closer to his face. Your lips find his again, arms wound around his shoulders so you can be flush against his torso, fingertips brushing through his hair. He encourages you onto his lap, hands flat along your shoulders to steady you as you find your balance.

Oikawa’s nose nudges down your cheek and jaw, nipping kisses creating tiny red, aggravated marks against your skin that fade within moments of their origin, “You have nothing to be jealous of, princess. I promise.”

Your cheeks burn at his recall of your earlier admission, the insecurities eating away at your innards even through his affirmations. Oikawa licks his tongue along the column of your throat, forcing a shiver up your spine, and successfully redirecting your attention from your throttling thoughts to his warm mouth.

“If you still don’t believe me,” his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt, eyes full of mirth as he gazes up at you through thick lashes, “then let me show you.”

---

not gonna lie..... this is NOT my favorite piece so if you made it this far thank you! if you’d like a second piece, one a little more spicy in nature, please let me know!!! or if you have any drabble/thirst requests i’d love to answer them!!!!!

bokuto is my next victim so be on the lookout for that! hopefully we’ll have lots more haikyuu posts in the future!

#oikawa tooru #hq oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #morgan writes hq #my writing

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mummybear · 4 years

Text

Strip Club Bait

This Is Day 18 Of Roleplay May

Words: 4221

Warnings: Smut, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Lap Dance, Woman On Top, Angry Dean, Grinding. Think That’s It.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You and Sam come up with a plan to complete a hunt, which Dean heavily disapproves of. What will happen when you ask Dean for some advice and help for the hunt? What will it be?

You had stormed off a while ago now and slammed your bedroom door. Yet you can still hear Sam and Dean arguing about the reason you’d left in the first place. Even though it wasn’t their decision. There had been something snatching women from a nearby strip club, with all of you still being at the bunker you were by the closest hunters available. So you and Sam had agreed that you would take the case, Dean had been completely on board with the plan, right up until you’d suggested that you were going to be the bait. Since it would mean that you and the monster you were looking for would be alone in a private room.

He was always so damn protective of you, it felt like a lot of the time it was because he didn’t trust you. Sam had been worried about you of course, but he correctly said that it was your decision and he would support whatever your choice turned out to be. Forever the big brother, Dean was not having any of it.

Although the two of you had flirted on occasion, you were sure it was just friendly, you weren’t his type, not at all. Especially when times like this would come around, you felt just like he was treating you like the other sibling he needed to look out for, except that you weren’t, he was only a year older than you and you’d been a hunter almost as long as he had.

You already know that you’re going to do this, with or without their help. Tossing the outfit you’d chosen for tonight on your bed, you hear what you assume is Dean’s door slamming a few minutes later. You were crazy nervous for tonight, this was something you’d never really done before, unless it was in private, for the one or two guys that you had ever stripped for. This was an entirely different ball game all together.

There’s a knock at your bedroom door and you call out for them to come in. The door cracks open revealing the shaggy head of hair that you’d expected.

“Hey Sam, he’s still not on board is he?” you ask, wincing when you hear Dean’s door slam again as if to prove his point.

“He’s on board with the plan, but he isn’t happy about it. Sorry Y/N, I tried” he sighs leaning against your door frame.

“It’s okay Sam, I know you did. Thank you.” you smile gently, trying not to wring your hands in front of him. “You wanna come in for a minute?”

“Yeah, sure.” he smiles back, stepping into your room, you close the door behind him when he sits on the bed. “You know you can talk to me, if there’s something bothering you, right?” he asks sweetly, patting the spot beside him telling you to take a seat which you do.

“Honestly, I’m completely terrified. I’ve done this once or twice before and never in front of more than one person,” you confide in him, the way you always do and Sam nods in understanding.

“Well, I do have to go out and do a few inquiries at the morgue. But maybe speak to Dean, he’s been in a hell of a lot of strip clubs, maybe he can help you out?” Sam suggests as he stands from the bed and adjusts his tie, “Is this straight?”

You can’t help but laugh a little at the adorably confused look on his face, “No, come here,” Once you’re finished straightening the tie you pat his chest gently, “Well, wish me luck with your ass of a brother. Gonna take a shower and I’ll go speak to him,”

“It’s a good idea. Just give it a try and ignore him when he goes negative on the plan,” Sam advises, pulling you into a bear hug that quickly makes you smile. “I’ll be back soon,” he promises, leaving you to your shower.

Pulling off your clothes you wrap your towel around yourself and head out into the hall towards the shower. You squeak in surprise when you walk into Dean, so distracted that you hadn’t been paying attention. Luckily enough you had a tight grip on your towel.

He tries to silently walk around you but you reach out quickly and grab his bicep, “Just do me a favour, please. Come to my room in like half an hour. I really need to talk to you.” before he can say no you sigh, “Please, it’s important. I need your help,”

“Yeah, okay. Fine, I’ll be there, but I’m not happy about it.” Dean grumbles sounding irritated, walking around you as soon as you let go of his arm.

Making sure that you turn the shower on hot, since you’re in major need of something to distract you from the way that Dean had just looked at you. It was about to make your conversation that much harder. You make sure that you shave everything and you’re sure that the water has run out by the time you finally turn the shower off.

Wrapping your towel back around yourself you quickly head into your room, deciding that you probably have time to try on your outfit for tonight before Dean comes to talk, you wanna make sure that it at least looks okay.

You lock the door as soon as you walk inside, nervously glancing down at the outfit on the bed. The tight leather hot pants, and revealing leather crop top aren’t exactly your normal attire and you find yourself swallowing hard. Drying off properly you slip on a small thong, so it would hide beneath the leather hot pants easily, then you pull on the top.

You do your hair and make up, not daring to look at your reflection until you’re completely ready. Slipping into your high heels you slowly walk over to your floor length mirror, gasping at what you see reflected back at you.

Part of you wonders if you’d ever looked this hot before, normally you weren’t one to admit something like that, but right now you were feeling more confident than you had ever before.

You jump in surprise when there’s a sudden knock at the door, quickly grabbing your robe you pull it on, clearly it has taken you longer to get ready than you’d realised.

“One second!” you call out, fastening the belt of your robe.

You can do this, you can talk to Dean about this, right? It’s just Dean. You tell yourself repeatedly, as you slowly walk over to the door. With a deep breath you pull it open, not missing the way that Dean’s eyes drop to the shoes you’d forgotten you were wearing, before quickly snapping back to your face.

“Hey. So, you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah, just uh, come in.” you breathe out nervously, stepping away from the door and letting him by, he takes a seat in the armchair by your bed. But you’re too nervous to sit down, so you just stand in front of him.

Dean clears his throat, looking up at you a little awkwardly as his teeth worry at his lip.

“So? You gonna tell me what the problem is?”

“Yeah, I’ll apologise now in case this gets awkward. But I need your advice for tonight.” you tell him truthfully.

“Okay. What do you wanna know?” he asks trying to keep his voice calm, but you can see that he’s noticed your legs are bare beneath your dressing gown, thanks to the opening in it shifting.

“First of all, ignoring the danger and everything, do you think that I can do this?” you ask watching his face for a reaction.

Dean rubs his hand over his slightly stubbled chin as he sighs, “Yeah I do. Of course you can.”

“Thank you. So, I’ve done this literally twice before and they were both in private. I’m just scared it’s gonna be obvious, I don’t wanna blow my cover before I even get started,” you explain, finally letting him see your nerves.

Dean seems to swallow hard as he thinks this over, never taking his eyes off of your face.

“Do you have to dance on stage before the private room?” he asks, voice a little deeper as he stands from the chair, so he’s taller than you again.

“Yeah, but I’ve got that down. One of the girls showed me yesterday,”

“So, it’s just the more close up stuff that’s got you freaked out?” he questions, walking around you over to your dressing table and grabbing the small chair there he turns it around the right way and takes a seat.

“Yeah.” you answer simply, slightly confused by his behaviour.

“Only one thing you can do sweetheart. Practice.”

“I don’t have time for that Dean!” you exclaim annoyed, throwing your hands in the air. Stopping short when he tugs at the belt of your robe. Causing it to fall open, just like your mouth.

“I can’t do this, not with you,”

“Well it’s either me or wait for Sammy to get back. Of course, you can just wing it, I’m just offering you choices.” Dean says no longer hiding when his eyes drop to your body, this time your outfit is almost on full display.

You know he’s right and honestly if you had to pick anyone then it would be Dean, that’s half of the problem you would have to try and ignore.

“Okay fine. You it is,” you answer, dropping your robe to the floor, feeling a little smug when all Dean can mutter is a quiet curse word or two. You walk towards him slowly, the click of your heels echoing around the room with every step you take.

“Just keep telling me how I’m doing,” you say quietly, as your knees finally bump against his.

Dean slowly reaches out and runs his hands up your thighs, you’re a little taken aback, breath hitching in your throat with the look in his eyes. But then you remember the rules, that this club in particular had, there was no touching at all. You gently smack at his hands and watch him pull back, biting into his bottom lip and rest them beside his legs.

“Well remembered.” he rasps, letting his eyes wander shamelessly across your body once more. But they quickly move back to yours when you straddle his thighs. “Don’t forget, try and get a little dirty talk in.”

His voice is so deep all of a sudden that you’re finding it hard to focus. You wrap your arms around his neck and roll your hips slowly, grinding down into him when your fingers push into the back of his hair and tug his head back. Dean clenches his jaw when your lips brush across it, but never press down.

Your lips slowly move down to his ear, “Dean, get your hands off of my ass before I smack you,”

“Can’t blame a guy for tryin’” he chuckles, dropping his hands back to his sides again.

You pull back to look at him, dragging your hand down his stomach, you grip his t-shirt and drop your body back, keeping your hips rolling down as your hair skims the floor. You flick your body back up and press your chest tightly against his. Dean swallows hard, seeing how close you are and you’re staring into his eyes and it’s like you can’t stop yourself.

Pulling back, you get up onto your slightly shaking legs, Dean sits forward and watches you closely. You turn your back on him and bend over, rolling your hips back against him until you’re sitting in his lap. Carefully you lean forward, remembering something you’d seen in one of the videos that you’d watched, you place your hands on the floor. Gripping his thighs tightly with your knees, your feet press against the chair just above his shoulders as you rock back into him.

“Fuck sweetheart, you sure this is only your third time?” he groans and you can feel the thick line of his cock beneath you.

He wraps an arm around your waist as you pull yourself back up, sliding your legs back down so they’re almost touching the floor. With your hands on the sides of the chair you drop your head back against his shoulder, continuing to roll your hips down against him, watching the way his eyes drop to your tits which are almost pressed against his face.

“So, is this your first time here?” you purr, fingers brushing his cheek as you turn him to face you.

Dean clears his throat and nods, “Yeah first time. Can’t wait to come back,” he smirks, licking his lips when you stand and turn to face him again. Dropping down seductively, your hands slide up his legs and push his knees apart, slowly sliding your hands up his thighs stopping dangerously close to where he’s hard and straining against the material of his jeans.

“I’d love it if you came back, I don’t often get customers as hot as you.”

You slide up his body, pushing your breasts up his chest until they’re pressed against his face. Dean groans and you swear you can feel his tongue against your breasts but you chose to ignore it, maybe it had been an accident.

Dean’s hands fall to your waist when you straddle one of his thighs, you can feel the sweat that’s starting to cover your skin, but his hands aren’t much cooler. Your hands slide beneath the flannel that he’s wearing and push it easily from his broad shoulders. Dean tugs it from his wrists and his big hands settle on the bottom of your back, the tips of his fingers just barely pushing into the waistband of your leather hot pants.

Leaning back slightly you feel Dean’s hands tighten as he supports your weight and keeps you up, your hands move slowly up your stomach, continuing to rock your hips, the trouble is that this is really starting to affect you. You can feel the slick gathering between your thighs, barely contained by the small thong beneath your hot pants.

“Does that feel good?” you ask in a breathy voice, watching the way that Dean’s tongue presses against the back of his teeth. You easily find the poppers on your top, watching Dean chewing on his bottom lip when you pop the first button.

“Best one I’ve ever had,” he grunts as you slide perfectly over his cock, “honestly, I’m just trying not to come in my pants.” His voice rumbles, completely focused on your fingers where they linger on the third and final button of your top.

“I’ll take that as a compliment from you.” you breathe out with a smile, feeling his fingers slip inside your hot pants a little further and his finger dig harshly into your skin. “You wanna see?” you ask nervously, swallowing around the lump in your throat as you continue to rock your hips.

“I’d fuckin’ love to see sweetheart. But you can just pretend you’ve finished, if you want.” he offers sweetly, but it’s like you can feel the sexual tension in his voice dripping from his every word.

You shrug with a slight smile pulling at your lips, “No point in doing half a job, like you said, it’ll help to practice.” Your voice is just barely above a whisper when you finish speaking and finally pop the last button on your top.

You can see the tick in Dean’s jaw when you pull the leather from your arms and drop it to the floor. The routine you had planned was still in your mind so you went with it, trying your best not to get distracted by the intense look in Dean’s darkened green eyes.

Dean’s fingers are so tightly digging into the tops of your ass cheeks that you’re sure it’s going to bruise, but you continue to roll your hips, switching it up every now and then and circling them.

“Can I please be your guinea pig whenever you need help again?” Dean asks through a muffled moan when you press his face between your tits, feeling the scratch of his slight stubble against your sensitive skin.

Your heart is thudding hard in your chest and you can hear it in your ears, not to mention you’re starting to feel the pull of your stomach muscles from how hard you’d been working your body. Gripping his hair you tug his head back again, his lidded eyes find yours when he draws his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Yeah, I think I could live with that,” you smirk cheekily, letting your forehead drop against his. Your nose brushes against his as you pop the buttons on the sides of your hot pants and pull them away.

Dean’s hands move to your hips, “shit sweetheart, got me so damn hard.”

Your nails are digging into his shoulders through the thin black t-shirt he’s wearing, continuing to rock and circle your hips you can feel the hard line of Dean’s thick cock pressing into your slick pussy, through the barely there thong that’s the only remaining clothing you’re wearing.

Dean’s lips press against yours and take you completely by surprise, you can’t help the groan that slips past your lips. You pull back as soon it hits you what was happening and he catches your hand before it connects with his face. His free hand cups the back of your neck and he roughly presses his lips against yours again, this time you melt against him, threading your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck tugging roughly.

Finally pulling away from his lips to breathe, you stand from his lap smirking when he stands with you. Tugging at his belt buckle until it clangs open.

“So, to be clear in the club. This should have stopped before you kissed me right?” you giggle, pushing him back into the chair once he pulls off his t-shirt and pushes down his jeans.

Dean chuckles as he stumbles back and falls into the chair behind him.

“Oh yeah, definitely throw a better punch if it’s anyone else.”

“So, is this why you were pissed about the hunt? Didn’t watch me dancing all over other guys because you wanted to fuck me.” you ask as you straddle his thighs again and his hands slide up your legs, groaning loudly when you drag your teeth across his earlobe.

“It definitely has a lot to do with it.” He answers quietly, “I thought you’d be sick of riding by now.”

“Turns out I kinda like it, even more when it’s you.” You whimper when Dean pushes your panties to the side and drags them through your slick, right before he pushes two of those thick fingers inside you.

You gasp at the feeling, enjoying the stretch and the drag of his fingers as he curls them against your fluttering walls. You stand with your legs still spread either side of his, moaning when his lips wrap around your nipple, tongue swirling around the hardening bud as they continue to move inside of you at a hard pace. You cling to his shoulders, creating crescent shape marks against his freckled skin.

Dean drags his teeth over the hardened bud as he pulls away, looking back into your eyes as his free arm wraps around your waist to hold you up. You roll your hips down into his hand the best that you can, the flick of his thumb against your clit moves in time with every thrust of your hips.

Your thighs start shaking and your mouth drops open, as you start to feel that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach. Then it ebbs away as Dean pulls out his fingers, a cocky smirk before he sucks them between his lips with a satisfied groan.

You huff out in frustration as he pulls his fingers from his mouth with a lewd popping noise.

“You ever get tired of being such a smartass,” you grumble wrapping your fingers around his thickness.

Dean’s retort is quickly cut off when you press the head of his cock into your soaked entrance, the new feeling has him growling into your neck, fingers gripping your ass tightly as you let him fill you perfectly in one movement.

“When you stop lovin’ it, you just let me know,” he grits out as you start moving, you push one of your hands into his hair and grip tight as you ride him, keeping your eyes locked on his. The fast rise and fall of your hips forcing his cock inside you deep and hitting you in the spot that makes your thighs shake and your back arch. “Fuck you feel good, so wet baby, keep going. Wanna feel you come all over my cock.”

His filthy mouth paired with the feeling of every thrust of his cock has you whimpering his name, pressing your lips against his, needing to feel as much of him as possible. His tongue quickly finds yours, there’s no fight for dominance, the kiss is deep and passionate, all teeth and tongues.

“Dean, please. So c-close,” you gasp, pulling away from his lips and resting your forehead against his.

Dean drops slips a hand between your legs, quickly finding your clit, the tips of his fingers start to rub it in hard fast circles. You cling to him like your life depends on it, continuing to move your hips at the fast and hard pace, until your orgasm hits you at full force and your pussy clenches around his cock like a vice. You squeeze your eyes shut, as Dean helps you move while you helplessly whimper his name.

When you finally start to come down you lift your head and lean back, resting your hands on his knees. Dean groans feeling your walls clamp down around his cock tightly with the new angle.

“Come on baby, I know you’re close. I can feel your cock throbbing,”

Dean groans watching you roll your hips, seeing his cock slipping effortlessly in and out of your slick pussy. “Fuck. You look so damn good riding my cock sweetheart,”

One of Dean’s large rough hands slides up from your thigh, over your hip and presses into your stomach. Sweat glistens on your skin, you can feel your slick against your ass as it runs down his balls. You’re not sure that you’ve ever been this turned on, every nerve ending feels like it’s on fire. “Son of a bitch! Yes Y/N! Fuck.” Dean moans loudly, as his hips stutter slightly beneath you.

You finally stop moving when Dean relaxes back in his chair and you collapse against his chest. “Jesus fucking Christ,” you half laugh, half pant. Pressing a kiss to his shoulder his hands slowly move against the soft skin of your back, tracing patterns against your skin.

“Can’t argue with that,” Dean laughs, turning to face you and brushes the sweaty hair from your forehead. “Are you sure I can’t talk you outta this whole thing?”

“Dean,” you sigh, but your voice holds clear warning.

“Fine. This once I’ll drop it. But don’t expect me to leave you alone with this creep,” Dean grumbles as he gently helps you to your feet and you both hear the main bunker door clang closed.

“Thank you. Now get dressed, this is not something Sammy needs to see,” you laugh followed quickly by Dean. You hurriedly pull on your robe as Dean pulls up his boxers and jeans. You quickly throw him his t-shirt when Sam knocks on your door. “Shit,”

You grab your clothes and hide them under your duvet. Smoothing it out, you turn back to Dean seeing him pull on his flannel, you walk around him and open the door.

“Hey Sam, is everything okay?” you ask trying to keep the nerves out of his voice when you let him in.

“I, uh. Yeah.” He stutters, seeming confused as he looks between you and his brother.

“Change of plans. No more undercover needed,”

“Thank fuck for that,” Dean grins, throwing you a wink, which you have to stop yourself from smiling at, failing miserably.

“Okay. You two are being strange, more than usual. What did I miss?” Sam enquires suspiciously.

You and Dean look at each other and you can’t help but blush.

“Y/N just gave me a lap dance,” Dean shrugs, bursting out laughing when you smack him.

You’re blushing so hard when you finally look back up at Sam, “I needed practice.” you defend, before Sam can actually say anything.

“Trust me, you didn’t.” Dean winks when you turn back to face him.

“I don’t wanna know.” Sam laughs holding up his hands as he turns to leave. He’d seen that look in his brother’s eyes before and he knew where it was leading before it even happened.

“So, you don’t wanna be my guinea pig anymore then?”

“Oh now, come on sweetheart. Let’s not say anything we’re gonna regret here.” you smile at him as you follow after Sam without saying a word. “Y/N! Hey!” Dean shouts, running after your retreating form.

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supermarvelgirl15 · 3 years

Text

Delicate Type of Beauty- Chapter 3: Plumbing Problems

Summary: You have a problem with your plumbing, but luckily Bucky just happens to also be awake at 2 AM.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes × f!oc-insert

Word Count: 1,940

Warnings: A few curses, a couple negative thoughts

A/N: The verb endings are probably all over the place, but oh well. I hope y'all enjoy!

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

××××××

The footage didn’t make any sense. It didn’t necessarily show any indication to where he went, and you couldn’t understand why the footage would be erased in the first place. That was the only thing that made the whole situation stand out.

It just showed Colton waiting in his car until another vehicle approached him. Colt then got out of his car with a backpack on, took whatever the unknown driver handed him, and watched as the driver left. He looked over the item that was in hands and placed it in his pocket before walking out of frame without his car. Even Rhett said that he thought that it was strange.

You, however, weren’t going to let that stop you. With every resource you had, you were going to find out everything that happened in that video and where he went. You needed to know who the driver was and what they gave your brother.

You were sat on the floor in front of your coffee table looking through everything you had already acquired while you were waiting on one of your sources to grant you access to more footage from the security cameras at the docks. You were hoping that maybe you had overlooked something, but it wasn’t looking like it.

With a sigh you grabbed your phone to check the time, groaning when you saw that it was just after two in the morning. It was late, but you weren’t ready to turn in just yet. Standing up, you walked into your kitchen to wash your face off at the sink.

When you turn the sink on though, only a little water was coming out the faucet. Your eyebrows furrowed together as you squatted down to open the cabinets under the sink, cursing when you saw that the pipe had busted and that water started running everywhere.

You immediately ran to go get some towels, another curse slipping out of your mouth when you realized that you only had one. Why was today the day you forgot to pick up your laundry from down stairs?

You rushed back to the kitchen, placing the towel on the floor to try to mop up what you could of the water. It didn’t take long for the towel to get soaked and there was still a lot of water. What the hell were you going to do now?

Bucky just wanted to get at least a few hours of sleep. He would be happy with even as little as two or three hours. Was that too much to ask?

The nightmares- or rather memories- had been bad for the last week. The most sleep he’s gotten lately has been maybe about an hour at a time. A man, especially at his age, needed more rest than that. He was tired, damn it.

Knocking at his door shook him from his thoughts about rest, making him glance over at the clock. Who would be at his door at this time of night? He really didn’t want to deal with some jackass tonight.

He quietly stood up from the floor, slipping on a shirt over his head as he made his way towards the door. Looking through the peephole, he saw you standing outside glancing frantically around you.

Opening the door, he automatically hid his left side behind the door frame. “Kris? Everything okay?” He questioned you, his eyebrow furrowed as he looked you over.

“Um, yeah, did I wake you? I’m so sorry if I did,” you apologize as you wring your hands together in front of you. Some of the guilt is lifted from you as he shook his head, his eyes showing that he was concerned. Now you felt bad for worrying him with something as stupid as this.

You glanced down the hallway, hoping you didn’t wake up any of the other residents. “I’m sorry for bothering you, but you're the only person I know here and I can’t go to the basement now because you know how the landlord is. Is there by any chance that I could borrow some towels?” You rambled to him, cringing slightly about how idiotic you sounded. Why does talking to him make you act like this?

Bucky’s look of concern turned to one of confusion as he looked at you. “I… Uh, sure, hold on,” he tells you before walking away from the door to retrieve them. Seeing that he left the door wide open, you took that as an invitation to step inside.

His apartment looked similar to yours, even though he had less furniture than you. Your eyes caught onto the blankets and pillows on the floor, making you lick your lips nervously. Every time you came back from an operation, you often found yourself sleeping on the floor as well. Sleeping on a bed was significantly different from going to bed in a sleeping bag on the hard ground. Recently, you've been sleeping on the couch to slowly break yourself out of that routine.

Your attention goes back to Bucky when you hear him clear his throat, looking up to see him holding a few towels. “Is this enough?” He asked as you took the towels out of his hands.

He noticed how your eyes immediately went to his bare metal arm before looking back at him with a nod. If he didn’t see that, he would have completely forgot that it was made out of vibranium and not flesh and bone.

“I hope so. I haven’t exactly dealt with a flooded kitchen before,” you quip as you turn to head out his apartment. Bucky raised his eyebrows as he followed behind you.

“What happened to your kitchen?” Bucky questioned curiously as he held the door open for you. He really did find you in the strangest situations.

You stopped once you stepped back into the hallway, turning back to face him. “The pipe beneath my sink busted. I’m gonna spend the rest of my night figuring out how to fix it,” you sighed, internally groaning at the thought.

You watched as Bucky nodded somewhat to himself, as if he was having a silent conversation with himself in his head. You would have never guessed the next words that would leave his mouth.

“Do you need any help?”

★

When you said that your kitchen was flooded, you really did mean it. Bucky was hoping that maybe you were overexaggerating, but there was a lot of water on the floor. If you two didn’t clean it up fast enough, you might get a complaint from the downstairs neighbor.

“You know, I could talk to you in maybe five different languages, but I apparently couldn’t fix a dumb pipe even if I wanted to,” you joke as you mop up most of the water.

Bucky chuckled slightly as he looked over the sink. “Ei bine, ai putea începe prin a opri apa.” Well, you could start by turning the water off.

He turned the faucet off, turning to see you looking at the sink with your mouth hanging open, making him laugh a little. “Chiar sunt prost.” I really am dumb.

Bucky shakes his head, chuckling softly as he squatted down to look at the pipe. “It’s okay, everyone loses their common sense at times. But hey, at least you know Romanian,” he teases you, glancing back over his shoulder.

You narrow your eyes on him, throwing the soaked towel in your hand at him. Bucky yelps, quickly getting the towel off him as he looks up to see your smug look. “This is what I get for helping? I could’ve just left the water on, I’m sure the landlord would love it,” he threatened playfully.

“No, it’s what you get for being an ass,” you shrug, a small smirk creeping onto your lips as you grab another dry towel to hopefully get what’s left of the water. Bucky looks at you while you’re turned away from him, licking his lips before giving his attention back to the pipe.

After looking it over for a few moments, he finally figured out what the problem was. He reached his left hand in the cabinet, tightening the pipe where it had come loose. “All right, I think I got it,” he announced as he stood up to turn the sink on, nodding when no water started leaking out. “It was just loose,” he tells you, turning the water back off before turning to face you.

You throw your towel into the pile with the others, having cleaned the floor the best you could, before walking over to the sink beside Bucky. “You are a saint,” you comment as you look over what he had done.

You are a saint. Those words shouldn’t have affected Bucky like they just did, but how could you call him that. Especially when you know what he's done, what he’s capable of doing.

“I thought I was an ass?” Bucky questioned teasingly, raising an eyebrow at you. You shake your head, rolling your eyes as you turn back to pick up the wet towels.

“I’m gonna go put these in my bathroom. Once I wash them, I’ll give you back your towels,” you tell him as you walk back to what Bucky guesses is your bathroom.

Bucky grabs a rag from your sink to dry his hands before stepping into your living room. Files scattered on your coffee table catches his eye, causing him to look back to make sure you haven’t returned yet. He picked up one of them and scanned through it quickly.

So this is why you’re here.

“Thank you so much, Bucky. I’m sure you want to go to bed now,” you said as you walked back into the room. Bucky turns around smoothly, dropping the file back on the table behind him.

He licked his lips as he nodded. “Yeah,” he replied shortly, scratching the back of his neck. He started towards your door, you following right behind him. “Um, good night,” he tells you with one of his tightlipped smiles.

“Night. Thanks again,” you respond with a smile.

Bucky couldn’t help but feel somewhat normal while he was around you. You reminded him of his life back before the war. When it was just him, his family, and Steve against the world. He… liked it.

If you get too close to her, something bad’s gonna happen. It always does, Barnes. Keep her out of it.

Shut up.

“Everything okay, Bucky?”

He looked up to see you already looking at him, your eyes full of concern. He doesn’t understand why, but he’s come to slowly learn that’s how you are. Maybe his therapist is right. Maybe he should make a friend. Especially one like you.

“Uh, yeah... Hey, if you’re up for it, you wanna get some coffee tomorrow? Well, later,” Bucky asked you, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants.

To say you were surprised was an understatement. You never thought that he would actively want to hang out with you. He always seemed to want to be alone, and given what he’s been through, you don’t blame him.

Then your instincts started kicking in. It was a bad idea. You shouldn’t be around him more than you have to. It was dangerous. He was dangerous. You were even once sent after him with your team. He used to be one of your targets.

But as you watched him wait for your response, how he bit his lip, how he glanced around the hallway somewhat nervously, your instincts didn’t matter. After all, he wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore, right?

“I’d love to.”

××××××

@bucky-bunnie @learisa @magconfangurl1 @lylthy @rosiahills22 (If you would like to be removed/added please let me know!)

#DToB #marvel #marvel imagines #bucky barnes × reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #winter soldier #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #sebastian stan #kay writes

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