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writefightandflightclub · 3 years

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I really enjoyed your Nathan fluff 🥺 we love this angry peach fuzz king 👑💖 would you ever write him being comforted after having a nightmare? 💕

First of all, LOL @ “angry peach fuzz king” 🤣🤣🤣

Second of all, here you go! 🧡 I will warn you - I think I forgot the fluff a little bit though. It became more hurt / comfort? More angst than expected? It ends nicely though and comfort is given to Nathan - but only after I’ve subjected him to rattling around in his own head and house for a bit.

Through the looking glass (Nathan Bateman x GN!reader)

Summary: Nathan has nightmares after The Incident. After so long alone, he doesn’t realise how badly he needs a little comfort - and maybe he doesn’t believe that he deserves it.

Author’s note: hopefully this isn’t too similar to All Better. I know they both take place post-stabbing, but I tried to give this a different focus. I know I could have made the nightmares based off of anything given the ask, but this timeline / focus seemed most sensible to explore the character.

Warnings: nightmares following traumatic incident (a stabbing); mentions of blood and injury - not graphic. Self-harm (punching the bag until injury); Body horror if you squint (some gruesome descriptions occurring in-dream, but fairly abstract); swearing; implied alcoholism recovery if you squint; mentions of therapy; Nathan mildly injured in fic; reader offering comfort.

Rating: MATURE for themes mentioned above.

GIF: by @santiagogarcia (this whole gifset is magic- check it out + reblog!)

Nathan wakes up breathless, plastered to the covers by a sheen of sweat - and not in a good way. On instinct, or out of habit by now, or maybe somewhere between the two, his palm slides over his body to the site of the wound.

He is so slick that he half-believes he is soaked with dank, deep blood again, until his fingers trace over nothing more than a half-concave, half-ridged scar. The lack of searing pain is the next point of evidence leading him towards an alternative conclusion. He’s not dying (again).

It’s just another gruesome nightmare.

Although… there is nothing “just” about it.

The nightmares are pretty brutal. Brutal enough for him to wake with ragged breaths and a hammering heart, his sheets dampened and coiled up around him. Enough that it takes effort to sift through the layers of terror and distinguish reality.

With what can only be described as a whimper, Nathan swings his legs over the edge of the bed, bringing himself into a seated position and bracing his head in his hands until his racing heart levels.

In his mind, he’s telling himself to be logical about this. That Ava hasn’t truly arrived to finish the job she started; but logic is not the safe haven it used to be.

She could come back.

She’s still out there, somewhere, and Nathan distinctly got the impression, last time, that she was vehemently not a fan of him.

His hand trembling, Nathan reaches for the glass of water by his bedside, glugging it down so eagerly it spills into his bushy beard.

Since the… accident? Malfunction? Functioning just fine, actually? Failed experiment? Greatest achievement known to man? Attempted murder? (Truth be told, Nathan isn’t quite sure what to call it, so he simply calls it The Incident.)

Since The Incident, Ava has begun to regularly visit him in his sleep.

The visitations are not waning with time. In fact, they are happening more often, not less. They are happening more since you moved into the house.

It’s a bad fucking time to have quit drinking.

You’d been sent by the board. Something about Nathan taking “tortured genius” a slice too literally. Something about him being in isolation too long and needing another human around in the compound.

Well, that’s not technically true, is it? The shit all started when he opted to get social, after all.

Fucking Caleb.

Before that, he was doing just fine.

Nathan doesn’t like it at all - having you here. Being watched. Observed. Having someone monitoring his actions. Waiting for him to either fuck up or prove himself.

Ironic really, considering where he kept Ava. The experiments he ran on her.

She’d probably find it poetic, if she could truly understand such a concept.

At the thought of her, Nathan physically shudders, and reaches for an old vest to haphazardly mop the excess sweat from his skin. Then, he balls up a change of clothes and tracks nude to his wet room, feeling relief as the luke warm water sluices over his skin.

He watches himself in the mirror as he stands there naked. It’s not a vanity thing - at least not any longer. These days, he examines the way his form has changed since it happened. He lost some of his muscle and bulk during recovery, whilst unable to exercise, his arms slightly smaller and his abs softer. His stomach a little more rounded.

There’s also the puckered scar, of course - that permanent reminder of where he was skewered through the chest like a piece of kebab meat.

His gaze travels up over his body, until his eyes settle on his still haunted face. He doesn’t have his glasses on, and somewhere between the blurred vision, misted mirror, clouding steam and sluicing water, his reflected face distorts. It transforms - for the briefest of moments - into her.

Still amped with adrenalin from his harsh awakening, this briefest flash sends a surge of panic zipping through Nathan’s chest, his heartbeat racing so hard he can feel the pounding of blood in his ears.

Fuck, he curses, reaching his arms out to brace himself against the shower wall above him, his body trembling and his head dipping down between the cradle of his broad shoulders as his legs threaten to buckle.

He turns the water cold, until it is practically glacial and thundering on to the back of his neck, subduing this spiking heat.

She really did a fucking number on me, didn’t she?

It’s true though.

Ava is haunting him. When he sleeps - and at other times too.

Nathan didn’t know robots could do that. Didn’t know they could spawn ghosts.

Nathan doesn’t believe in ghosts, of course… but he does believe in trauma and its effect on the brain. He at least concedes that it is natural to continue to feel afraid; but this?

Being dogged by the spectre of her taps into Nathan’s deepest insecurities.

After all, there is nothing a genius fears more than doubting his own mind.

Nothing a God fears more than his own mortality.

And the man? Turns out, there is nothing he fears more now, than dying alone.

With a ragged breath, Nathan towels off and pulls on his grey sweatpants, tugging on his black zip-up hoody over his bare chest. And then, keen not to return to his damp, tangled sheets, he tracks towards the kitchen - mainly for want of any more favourable option.

Of course, he had returned to the compound after The Incident. Something about that many fibre optic cables being a bitch to lay down. Sunk cost fallacy and all that - too much already invested.

But it possibly wasn’t the best choice for his recovery.

Nathan has certainly gotten more used to walking down that hallway since he returned from the hospital, and yet he still finds himself holding his breath until he is free of it. Still finds his pace is just a little faster as he passes through. His gaze deliberately averted from that spot.

Once, you’d found him lying in it.

Lying in that exact spot, his body arranged like a crime scene photo, his eyes closed.

Hey, it’s hardly his least healthy coping mechanism, is it?

What in the fuck are you doing, Nathan?

Re-enacting my death, obviously.

Uh-Kay…. A beat. A devious smile. Shall I get some popcorn?

Absurd as it was, he had laughed. Laughed for the first time since it happened, and, with an extended hand, you had helped him up off the floor.

Still, now that he’s alone, he does not dwell in the corridor, colder and darker as it is without your light in it, and he tries not to think about your face or hers as he pads to the kitchen.

When he arrives though, he bypasses it entirely - heading out on to the decking, the crisp night air soothing his hot skin.

He wants to be outside.

There are too many ghosts in his house now.

He has tried to shake it. Tried to desensitise himself to Ava’s face. Spent longer than strictly necessary poring over footage of her.

He built her. Shouldn’t that take the fear out of things? Not to mention the fact Ava’s face was simply a composite of some manipulable nerd’s wank bank browsing history.

Fucking Caleb.

Still, once Nathan had looked her in the eyes and seen a rage that was all too human, things seemed a hell of a lot different.

Nathan crosses to the punchbag on the deck -lit by creeping dawn- on instinct, or out of habit, or maybe some combination of the two, his unease riling him enough to sock some punches at its midsection. Right at the equivalent site of his corporeal puncture.

He punches so hard that the skin on his knuckle splits, but Nathan doesn’t stop. He throws punch after punch until his hands are scathed and bloodied, and a trail of spit hanging from the corner of his mouth. Until he hugs the bag - the closest thing he has to a warm body to hold - and slides down it, coming limply to his knees, wiping his face on his sleeve.

He stays there, dead eyed and still for some time, the pain in his hands raw and singing. Unpleasant, but better. Better than what he was feeling, and worse all at once.

He considers his tired, cumbersome body, and contemplates remaking the world one more time. Uploading his mind into a machine or some shit, so that he doesn’t have to contend with the fragility and failings of his own existence.

He stays there, until some motion in the interior of the compound causes the light and shadows to dance differently over him, and he looks up to see your figure there, cast in a soft halo of yellowed light.

He tips his head up slightly, opening his mouth as though he might cry out to you for help, but no sound comes out - only a thin, dry croak.

So, instead, Nathan watches you for a moment, moving seamlessly around his kitchen as though it is your own. Maybe it is - more yours than his now.

Observing you like this, through the tall, cinematic windows, it is as though he peers in on another world entirely. Something less resembling a nightmare.

Lighter than that. Something more like a good dream, albeit a good dream that Nathan cannot be part of. One he can only ever watch, from the outside looking in, always fated as he is to be on the other side of the glass.

Truth be told, you haunt him too. You represent everything he could have and yet doesn’t deserve.

You appear in his nightmares and his dreams, in various terrifying and beautiful incarnations. Many variations of which his therapist would have a field day with, he’s sure - or, she would, if he’d ever fucking call her.

When you first arrived here, he was plagued by grotesque visions of you. Grotesque visions of the skin being peeled back from your body. Sometimes, circuitry beneath, and other times, muscle and bone. Sometimes, Ava’s face was buried beneath the chilling slip of your fleshy mask.

Sometimes it is a better dream. Sometimes you save him. Sometimes he saves you.

Sometimes it is a good dream. Ava isn’t there at all. But the good dreams never seem to last for long.

Sometimes you kill him, and sometimes...

The glass door slides open.

“Reenacting your own death again, are you?” you tease, though not unkindly, interrupting the spiral of Nathan’s incessant thoughts.

A lump forming instantly in his throat, Nathan swallows thickly, and looks up at you helplessly with a thin, joyless smile. He snorts as though it’s funny, but it really isn’t. “Over and fucking over.”

You nod once, and, without hesitation, you extend your hand towards him. Your gaze cuts through him as you search his face and he feels suddenly see-through, as if he’s about to be hit with some Shyamalan-esque twist. Was he the ghost all along? Did he die here after all?

If so, is this purgatory because Ava is here too, or heaven, because you are?

Christ. So fucking schmaltzy, Bateman.

After hesitating, Nathan takes your hand and you yank him to his feet, drawing him inside, through the looking glass.

The room seems warm on the other side. It feels… safe.

“What happened?” you ask, as you look down at your joined hands, your thumb painting a smear of red across his split knuckles.

You mean now. What happened now, but Nathan’s mind harks back further than that. In his mind, everything is connected. Every thing threaded to another. This one smear of blood to that weeping flower of red.

The thought -the thoughts, all of them- halt him in place, his feet firmly planting on the ground. Nathan’s hand clenches tightly around yours as though it is a lifeline, as he is cast adrift on this familiar crimson tide, his face growing increasingly angular and stern.

“She...” He swallows, unable to complete that precise thought, his eyes dropping down to his feet.

You turn your body towards Nathan as he croaks, still not letting go.

Your eyes flitting around his face, attempting to search his eyes, you tentatively step closer, sliding your palms slowly over his tense shoulders, feeling them rise with an uneven, stuttered breath as you do so.

He’s so tired. He’s so very, very tired.

And it happens all at once on the exhale.

Suddenly, your arms are tugging him closer, and his face is contorting as a violent smattering of tears beads in his long lashes. You are encasing his body in your embrace and rubbing circles into his back as his buzzed head sags all too willingly toward the junction of your shoulder, your fingers splaying along the smooth flesh at the nape of his neck and pads dancing over the gentle prickle of his hair. You are shushing and soothing and reassuring and squeezing and smoothing and cradling and Nathan can feel it. Can feel his heart race in his chest and…

Finally.

Finally, his heart is not pounding because he is reliving his death.

It is pounding because he feels alive again.

When was the last time he cried, even? The last time someone really hugged him? He doesn’t remember the last time. The serendipitous combination of Nathan willing to be vulnerable, and another being willing to hold space for his pain is an all too rare thing.

There’s a reason -or several - he’s so emotionally constipated, after all.

Fuck. I’m taking a huge emotional shit right now.

Nathan remains in the welcome circumference of your arms longer than is strictly necessary - until the tear trails over the bridge of his nose begin to feel cloying. Until his breaths steady, and until his thoughts and ego creep back in. Until he notices the way his hands are clasped at your waist like claws, fingers sinking into your softness, and he thinks to release you.

Then, he leans away, a weight on his brow making his expression stern.

He waits for you to judge him, another swallow trailing thickly down his throat.

However, your eyes are kind and level, dancing with soft concern. Not with judgement or satisfaction or pity, or with anything he fears.

It is refreshing not to feel so afraid.

Finally.

“She…” Nathan begins again, finally finding courage. All at once his eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. “She fucking stabbed me.”

You take his words in. You listen.

His “reveal” is simple. Plain and factual. A little indignant. Kinda salty. It’s not overly emotional, or articulate.

But it is enough.

Your eyes narrow, and you nod slowly, trying to understand the true meaning beneath his words.

You even reach up to cup Nathan’s face, his springy beard a cushion beneath your gentle palm as you hold him. “Yeah, genius,” you tease, with a tentative, lopsided smile, dropping your arm all too suddenly, perhaps as you catch yourself. “I got that from context.”

In response, Nathan chucks air from between his teeth, bringing his hand up to comb through his beard - perhaps to obscure his involuntary smile, or perhaps chasing your tender touch, the impression of it left warm on his cheek.

As he brings his hand up, your brows draw together, and you hook his bloodied paw delicately in yours, examining the wound, and leading him gingerly across to the couch as though his whole being might be hurting along with it.

It is.

You order him to stay put while you fetch the first aid kit, and then, in stages, Nathan watches you with fascination as you painstakingly clean and tend to his wounds, without ever being asked to.

He watches you carefully swipe the angry red away from his skin, and, to his overactive mind, it’s all connected. This red is one and the same with the flower of blooming red from The Incident.

Ava hurt him then, and she is hurting him now too.

And you…

“Going to tell the board about this?” Nathan asks, his voice weak and scuffed.

You search his eyes, holding your words back for a moment before answering. Then, you launch them on a big breath. “Fuck the board, Nathan. I told those assholes to stick it.”

Nathan blinks in confusion, shaking his head, his hand flourishing emphatically through the air. “Then… what the fuck are you still doing in my house?”

“Well. I’m… here for you,” you admit, sucking in air through your teeth, your voice shrinking. “If you want that.”

Well, that’s news to him.

Welcome news, perhaps?

You’re not watching him at all, are you? Not observing. Not asking him to evidence his humanity. Not waiting to see whether he fucks up or proves himself.

Instead, you’re seeing him. You’re seeing him and you’re not running.

Nathan had begun to think that maybe he was the nightmare. He’d begun to think he might always be haunted.

Always alone. That he might die that way; again.

And now, here you are.

Nathan thinks about that. He could so easily revert to his old ways, in this moment. Of pride and ego and stubborn independence.

But, perhaps those assholes from the board got a few things right - he’ll admit.

Maybe he had been in isolation too long. Maybe he didn’t need to take “tortured genius” quite so literally.

And so, Nathan almost protests. Almost rejects your presence and your comfort and pushes you away. But the truth is, he’s just so… tired. He’s had so many nightmares, and this time, he’d like to be on the other side of the glass. He’d like to step into that dream.

Nathan takes a deep breath, and releases on the exhale. Releases more than air.

He slowly, ever so slowly, shifts towards you on the couch, angling his body until he can safely dip his head towards your lap, his nose pointed in towards your abdomen and his knees curling around you.

“Th.. this okay?” he asks weakly.

You throw your splayed hands up into the air in surprise as the weight of Nathan settles there, but as he curls his arms around your middle and shuffles closer, you ease into it. You snake your fingers in intricate caresses over his head and neck and shoulders.

“Yeah, Nathan. This is okay,” you soothe gently, voice taut with emotion.

You comfort him.

And finally, Nathan does not need to peel your skin back to know what’s underneath.

He knows you’re not a robot, and that, as your kind touch finds him corporeal, that he is not a ghost.

He closes his eyes. And this time, when he next wakes, he knows that whether the dream is bad or better or good, it doesn’t matter. Because you will be there with him.

He wants you with him.

It’s not at all natural to him, to have you around. For the longest time, he didn’t like it. It didn’t come instinctually, and he has formed no familiar habits.

It isn’t easy - he doesn’t make it easy.

But he wants it to be.

And, in your arms, he can finally dream that it will all work out. What’s more; he can dream he deserves it, too.

#Nathan Bateman #Nathan Bateman x reader #Oscar Isaac #ex machina

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love-archon · 3 years

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A Day With The Genshin Characters: Liyue Edition

Today's going to be a busy day! Check your planner for who you'll be meeting with- as one of the esteemed members of the Liyue Qixing, you cannot afford to be late to any appointment.

• 6:00, Ningguang: Morning Tea

Although you say you love your job, waking up at un-archonly hours has to be the part you like the least. Even getting up at five in the morning, the hour when tigers prowl, is still not enough time to prepare for a meeting with the Tianquan. You rush around frantically choosing the best outfit, fragrance, and hair arrangement to present yourself to Lady Ningguang, and you're halfway out the door when it hits you- you forgot to bring a gift with you!

"Right on time," Ningguang says, pleased. You smile, hoping she won't hear your heart beating from anxiety. "And what a lovely present, too... is there any doubt you were appointed as one of the seven Qixing?" (You can't tell if it's her rare praise, or the sheer altitude you're at within the Jade Chamber, that's making your head spin).

• 7:00, Keqing: Business Meeting

You barely have time to rest before Keqing whisks you away to Yuehai Pavilion. You're very close friends, and you admire the girl for her tenacity and diligence. The conversation flows easily as you walk to your destination under a cloudless sky. It's a wonderfully sunny moment, but the moment the doors lock, you mean business. In the next two hours, you conquer matters that would normally take days to resolve, and the two of you exchange grins.

"There we go!" Keqing breathes a sigh of relief, pushing away the last stack of papers. She holds up her hand, and you high-five. "You know, I like how easily you keep up with me. You even caught mistakes I would have missed... things like this make me even more certain Liyue is better off in human hands."

• 9:00: Check In With Ganyu

With such a hectic schedule, Ganyu is your saving grace. It's always important to check in with her, just to make sure nothing you have planned catches you by surprise, and sometimes you wonder why others rarely do the same. She's quite lonely, and often mentions how nice it is that you speak with her every day and bring her gifts to help with work. It may be part of your job to be courteous, but... it does help her feel less lonely and conflicted with herself.

"Qingxin flowers? Thank you so much." She accepts them gratefully, smiling at you with warm eyes. "I still have that new stationery you gave me, too. You're so kind for remembering the things I like!"

• 9:30: Talk to Beidou

The tea in the Jade Chamber was just a front for Ningguang to spring a request on you- meet with the captain of the Crux Fleet to discuss her... recent smuggling habits. But Beidou merely laughs heartily when you arrive. A crewmate tosses her a sack of Mora, and she slits it open, letting the payment shower over you in a spray of gold. And then, before you know what's happening, you're roped into helping them find a treasure rumored to be lost beneath the waves.

"So, Ningguang though sending her star diplomat would get me to let up, huh!" You blush, wondering how you could be so easy to read under her ruby eye. "I was impressed by your words, and how well you fought by my side. But the annoyance of the Liyue Qixing is of no concern to me."

• 12:00, Tartaglia: TEACH HIM A LESSON!

As the member of the Qixing that oversees diplomacy and foreign relations, it's you that must meet with the Fatui Harbinger. He's quite good at playing pretend- all your underlings believed he was a naive, careless young man, and easily manipulated, too. And all of them ended up suppressing the urge to break something after they were done conversing with him. On your honor as one of Liyue's seven stars, you vow to not make their mistakes.

"You're asking why I don't try to drive you mad?" he said, setting down his fork. You'd caved in and given him one after watching him struggle with chopsticks for far too long. "You're the only one who isn't a bore to talk to, that's all-" so this was on purpose?!- "and besides, I want to challenge you to a fight afterwards! Your vision's getting quite dusty from neglect, comrade. Let's fix that!"

• 2:00, Yanfei: Discussion of Legal Matters

Yanfei's counsel is an invaluable treasure. Especially when dealing with an opponent as vicious as Snezhnaya's Fatui, who deserve to have her wrath unleashed upon them. You walk to her office with a gleam in your eyes, and are delighted to see an equal fire already blazing in hers. For the next few hours, you two take the "suggestions" Tartaglia passed on from the Northland Bank and scheme on how to best tear them to shreds with the law.

"That man-childe's been giving you trouble again, huh," she giggles. "What did he come up with this time~? I've been waiting for an excuse to bring out the latest edition of my lawbook!" And with that, Yanfei slams it down, and the sheer weight of it nearly cracks her desk. "He won't know what hit him!"

• 4:00: Free Time

Of course, "free time" simply means that you have no meetings scheduled for this hour, which lets you adequately prepare for the next day's events. Tomorrow is your appointment with the Feiyun Commerce Guild, which you already know will require great patience and strength of mind. Because the head of the guild, and his eldest son, the future head, are- to put it mildly- not very bright... it's fortunate, then, that the second son Xingqiu has a good head on his shoulders.

"Tomorrow, you should go straight to me instead," Xingqiu informs you cheerily, handing you a popsicle. Apparently, he keeps them around for his friend Chongyun, who's off to complete another exorcism. "I'll be sure to set everything in order." His eyes gleam. "And then, I can tell you the latest developments in 'A Legend of Sword'!"

• 5:00: Catch Xinyan's Concert!

Liyue's one and only rock musician isn't hard to find, thanks to the designated performance spots scattered around the city. You stop by at the raised platform where she's rocking out, where other people are listening as well. Xinyan strikes a peace sign in the air, and her vision glows with energy before the stage erupts with pillars of fire; her audience bursts into cheers and applause, and she's beaming as she leaps down to meet you.

"Wait, seriously? You really changed up the rules a lil' so it'll be easier for me to hold concerts here?" Her eyes shine as they scan the papers- one of the many results of your work today in Yuehai. "Thank you so much! Wait-" she picks up her guitar again, giving it an experimental riff. "Let me think up a quick song for ya as thanks- I insist!"

• 6:00: Wangsheng Funeral Parlor

Lately, you've been sent particularly determined requests from the other nations about allowing tourists to observe the ancient funeral rites. You already know the answer's gonna be a hard no, but the laws written by Rex Lapis state that you must check with the director anyway. She's not there when you arrive, so a consultant, Zhongli, brings you tea while you wait for her. You sit together in the fading sun, waiting for Hu Tao's familiar song to rise above the hill.

Zhongli takes a quiet sip from his cup, closing his luminous eyes. "Although it was Rex Lapis who created the laws, they are not meant to be set in stone. Humans must revise the contract as they see fit, so that it will not erode with the passage of time." Something makes you feel as though it's more significant to him than you know. Then, he smiles slightly. "But, just looking at the people leading the way in his absence, like you... there's no need for me to worry."

• 8:00: Dinner; Request Chef Xiangling

The Wanmin Restaurant, run by Chef Mao and his daughter, is a breath of fresh air. While the rest of Liyue is divided between the "Li" and "Yue" styles of cooking, Xiangling pays the conflict no mind. Instead, she's not afraid to be daring and experiment, blazing ahead without worrying about what others think. You can see some similarities between her and Keqing, but it's best not to mention it after that disastrous banquet they organized together...

"Had a rough day, didn't you?" Xiangling asks, her golden eyes twinkling as she hands you the steaming hot bowl. "Well, for you, I made sure to prepare your favorite dish! I hope you don't mind if I added a lizard or two this time- I'm kidding!" she adds quickly, upon seeing alarm flash across your face.

• 9:00: Return Home

After everything that happened, you're eager to collect the reports from your subordinates and head home to draft new revisions for Tianquan Ningguang to look over (and then, hopefully, get some rest). But as you're walking on the path to your neighborhood, you spot a little girl sitting in the grass, clutching her head. Alarm rises in your chest as you rush over to see what's wrong, and why she's alone- only to realize with a start that she's the child that returned from the dead.

"Thank you for taking Qiqi back to Bubu Pharmacy," she says, reading solemnly from her notebook (where the entire thank-you script is written). Even when you set her down, she's still reading the pieces of paper. "Will you tell Dr. Baizhu where I got lost? Please and thank you, again."

• 10:00: Sleep

In the end, you never did get to those revisions. You can hear your fellow Qixing scolding you in your head, but at least you got plenty of other things done; the well-oiled machine that is Liyue will still keep running on thanks to the tasks you accomplished today. Someday, even the adepti will have to acknowledge the ability of humans... you turn in your bed to feel the coolness of the other side. Speaking of adepti... the night air coming in... reminds you of... "Xiao..."

"I thought you were in danger," the adeptus huffs. The moment you said his name, you'd finally fallen asleep, but it still brought Xiao to you- balanced on the windowsill, hair waving in the breeze. "Still... I'm... glad that you're alright," he admits, glancing at you to make sure you're not awake to hear. "Rest well, bright star of Liyue." And then, with a sound like a sigh- or was it the wind?- he's gone.

#genshin imagines #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #ningguang x reader #beidou x reader #xiao x reader #genshin scenarios

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nostalgiabones · 3 years

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Starting Line // L.H

It feels like SO long since I last did or posted any writing, but solo Luke has pulled me out of the woodwork! I’m so so proud of his new project and love Starting Line so much that it finally inspired me to write something. I feel like I’m a bit rusty with writing so thank you so much @calumrose and @calpops for helping me out with it! I hope you enjoy this & I would love to hear any thoughts on it!

Falling asleep next to Luke has become so normal, so part of your daily routine that when he’s not there, your body knows. The moments through the night where you’re briefly pulled from sleep for whatever reason no longer feel like disturbances when you’re met with the sight of Luke asleep next to you, instantly soothing you back to sleep. All you had to do was reach out, and he was never far away — a gentle kiss to assure you he was right there.

There’s no such sight tonight though.

The bedroom is dark, so for a moment you feel as though your eyes are tricking you, as Luke is always there. Although, there’s a small trickle of light through the room, streaming through the crack of the bedroom door, and it’s then you realise Luke must not have made it to bed yet. Petunia isn’t curled up in her bed at the far side of the room either, and you know she’s doing so in the studio down the hall.

It’s been several months since quarantine and lockdown began, and your lives have been turned upside down — forced to stay at home, tours cancelled and many, many virtual interviews taking over his life. At first Luke wrote over Zoom calls, and took his ideas into the studio when things opened up a little, but there was a constant nagging in the back of his mind that he needed something more. His mind was swirling with ideas that didn’t quite fit into what the band were doing. He’d had too much time at home, too much time to think, and he needed somewhere to put it so he could process it for himself. He’s too creative, he thinks too much — he needs an outlet.

Slipping out of bed, you grab one of Luke’s discarded hoodies, managing to put it on as you walk through the room still half asleep. It’s sometime in the early hours, but when Luke gets fixated on an idea, time is irrelevant. The light from the hall hurts your eyes, such a stark contrast from the dark bedroom. Your footsteps are quiet as you pad down the hall, not wanting to disturb him, but missing the familiar warmth of him sleeping next to you.

Standing in the doorway, he doesn’t acknowledge your presence — too focused on the keys in front of him, engrossed in what he’s playing. You faintly recognise the tune but now it has lyrics, he’s singing — and then you realise that why he’s not yet in bed. He’s hunched over the piano, his phone open next to him, assuming he’s recording little parts to play back later. There’s a lamp switched on in the corner, softening the room with a warm glow.

“I feel the walls are closing, I’m running out of time…” Luke’s tone is soft, almost like he’s mumbling, out of fear of waking you, or he’s just singing to himself. “I think I missed the gun at the starting line..”

You can just make out the words, and realise it’s purely his emotions - I feel, I think… and a part of you is relieved that he’s getting it down on paper, releasing his worries in the way he knows best. He gets too caught up in trying to understand himself sometimes, yet he avoids it too.

“Hey, rockstar,” You try to get his attention. When Luke lifts his head from the keyboard, there’s a concerned look on his face that he woke you up. There’s a smile too though, an amused one that always appears whenever you use that nickname. He gestures for you to come over, scooting along the bench of the piano so you could join him. You do — sitting as close as you could, resting your cheek on his shoulder as he wraps an arm around your back to keep you there. You wearing his clothes never gets old to him - it’s a reminder that whatever he has is also yours, that he wants to share everything with you; including whatever is on his mind. He hears you yawn and pulls you in closer, suddenly craving the feeling you came in search of, of being next to you.

“Sorry if I woke you,” Luke murmurs, his lips brushing your forehead in a silent hello. You shake your head, a free hand landing on his thigh in a reassuring gesture to say that it’s okay. “I didn’t realise what time it was.”

“You didn’t,” You reply, voice hoarse from the few hours of sleep that you did get. “I always wake up when you’re not next to me. You okay? That song sounds kinda sad.”

He laughs a little, looking at his phone to make sure he’s stopped the voice recording. “It’s not meant to be sad, more... reflective. It’s only acoustic so far, but I think I’ve got the lyrics down.”

He softly plays a few keys as you sit there, the gentle sound in combination with Luke humming under his breath next to you already sending you back to sleep. “You gonna send it to Ash to help out with the drums? Or are you leaving it acoustic?”

Luke hums thoughtfully, almost like he’s reluctant to tell you the answer — whether he’s sure he wants to say it out loud, because that makes it real. “I actually wasn’t going to involve them in this one.”

And there it is.

You had wondered if he’d ever go down this road himself, remembering how he had been inspired by Ashton’s solo works. Luke has been tied to the band since his early teens, he’s grown up in the band and barely had time to breathe until the last few months at home. You know he’s happy with the songs he’s written with the guys so far, but had the feeling he was wanting something a little more.

“How come?” You prompt, and even though you have an idea, you want to hear it from him.

“I just feel like I need to make sense of a lot of things,” He explains, almost as if he’s convincing himself too. “Having all this time at home has made me think about myself and who I am compared with who I used to be, and I need somewhere to work it out. I figured music is the best way to do that.”

He expects a bigger reaction from you, like it’s something so out of the norm that you’d question if he’s doing the right thing — but you don’t. You nod, and take one of his hands in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, to ease the nerves you sense he has.

“Well, you said it’s reflective, and what better time to reflect than when the world is at a standstill? I know you can create something amazing.” You assure him, the words whispered against his shoulder, and it’s all the convincing he needs. “Trust yourself, Luke. You’re way more talented than what you give yourself credit for.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his cheek resting on your head, just basking in the silence for a little while. As soon as he started to write this song there had been a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, that he wanted to keep it just for himself — he wanted to pour some of his anxieties into a song in the hopes of learning more about himself.

“You don’t think the guys will be offended, that I want to work on something for myself?” He asks you tentatively, and you know he already knows the answer to that.

You shake your head. “God, no, Luke. You were all very supportive of Ashton when he did Superbloom, why would it be any different for you? You know they’ll have your back no matter what. You’re best friends before anything else. You should talk to them about it, it’ll ease your mind.”

He hums in acknowledgement, a comforted smile on his lips at your words.

“Do you want to hear some more?” He asks, and you don’t even need to give him an answer. You murmur a reassurance of “of course” and he picks up again, feeling more certain of his craft now that he knows he has your support. He never doubted that you wouldn’t support him in whatever he wanted to do, but he thinks too much — he struggles to make sense of his thoughts, and it prompts him even more to want to create art from it.

You can already see how much it means to him, how he’s poured his heart into the lyrics he’s managed to put together. Throughout your relationship, you’ve gotten better at observing his feelings, and you know this is important to him. There’s pages full of scribbled lyrics in front of him, his hair is messy from running his fingers through it every time had gotten frustrated, and it’s clear he was determined to get something out of this song.

“Tell me, am I broken? I can never leave, biting on my tongue and checking if it bleeds,” He sings, the words clearer now he’s not in fear of waking you and of the words itself. “Is it lost on me? All the things I believe.”

It’s like he’s questioning himself with the lyrics as he sings, and as your eyes glance over the sheet in front of you, you notice a whole page of different thoughts and questions about everything — himself, his life and the band. All things that play on his mind constantly that he usually doesn’t have the time (or he occupies himself to avoid) to think about, all coming to the surface now the world is on pause.

“Take me alive, don’t look away until it’s gone, til it’s gone..”

Luke plays a few keys at the end before he turns to you, your face hidden against his shoulder. His fingertips brush your cheek before he lifts your face to look at him, and he’s not sure whether to smile or not when he’s met with unshed tears lining your eyes.

“Baby,” He murmurs, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours, his thumb softly brushing the first tear away as he slides down your cheek. “What’s with the tears?”

“That song is really beautiful,” You reply, sniffling to try and contain your emotions a little. He brushes his lips against yours in a sweet kiss, a sign of both his love and gratitude — and if just the first song has that affect on you, he knows he needs to pursue what’s in his heart. “It’s so pure, and so you. And I can’t wait to see what else you come up with.”

He feels like crying at your words and doesn’t know how to thank you enough for how supported you make him feel, no matter what he’s doing. “I love you, honey. Thanks for being on this journey with me.”

“Where else would I be?”

And when he finally makes it to bed, with you in his arms and a full heart, he’s content — he knows what he needs to pursue, and with you by his side, he knows he can do anything.

Don’t look away until it’s gone.

***

So there we are! I’d love to hear any feedback, I feel like I’m out of practice at writing lmao 🥺 Also I’m starting a new taglist, so if you’d like to be added to my new one, please fill out this Google form!

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lilkermit14 · 3 years

Note

Jay is from the show Red Widow and unfortunately he's not really known 😅 At first I wanted to ask for Jack but I had no idea of the details for the story... Maybe he had to leave reader because of his job, but he loves her too much and decides to come back and find out that she is pregnant (a baby girl) I know, it's not original but i can't imagine anything else for this charming cowboy 🥺

Whole (Jack Daniels x Fem!reader)

Notes: Idk why I struggled so hard to write this fic but here she is in all her glory........yay. Not as smutty as per usual to prove I’m not a total whore but here ya go

Summary: after your life is threatened unbeknownst to you, whiskey takes it upon himself to protect you the only way he thinks he can––by leaving you. but what his cowboy brain doesn’t for see, is that he’s doing both of you more damage than good especially after a happy little accident.

warnings: brief description of smut and aftercare (like the La Croix of smut but still no minors), ANGSTTTTTTT, rOUGH, unplanned pregnancy, a slap, and a happy ending

Jack should have known the first time he wasn’t meant to have this kind of happiness—the kind where one could always have someone to return home to at the end of the day. No, he couldn’t have it with his late wife and he couldn’t have it with you either.

The human trafficker had somehow gotten access to personal statesmen information, because he had found out about you. Had your name. Had shown him pictures of you. Had shown that men were waiting at your doorstep if Jack didn’t back down now.

Thankfully, they were able to stop the man before it came to any of that—but it broke something in Jack. He couldn’t have another woman he loves die like his wife. He didn’t know if he could handle it. You didn’t even know about Jack’s real job, all you knew was that he was the CEO of a distillery and you never asked questions about that. Maybe it was easier keeping it like that, as Jack realized the only way to keep you safe was to leave you.

He had picked a night, picked a place to head out to after it was all over, and planned out the note. He had made love to you one last time before leaving—slowly savoring the way your skin felt pressed against him and the way it felt to have your walls drag against him when he thrusted, and finally stilled deep inside you. He made sure to take care of you before he left, clean with all sore muscles rubbed out and well hydrated—comfortable as you could be. You fell asleep so easily it somehow made Jack more guilty for what he thought was the right thing. He stayed longer than he should have after he wrote the note and got dressed, bag packed by the door, just staring at you, attempting to memorize the sound of your soft noises as you slept and the way your naked body looked covered by the sheets and pale moonlight. It was the most beautiful scene he had ever seen and wanted it to be the clearest memory he had of you. Tears sprung in his eyes, thinking that this is the only thing he will ever have of love—memories. He kissed your forehead one last time before walking out of your life forever.

*****************************

Jack hasn’t felt alive since, the toll of leaving you behind eating at him more than he ever thought it could. He’s changed in a way and everyone knows it—they see the way he moves or speaks now and know something has changed. He just goes through the motions of living with no actual life in his eyes to prove he is alive. He throws himself into his work working through cases and bad guys more efficiently than ever, but it doesn’t distract him from losing you—not when he lies awake at night crying and missing you.

Everyone around him changes too—Tequila doesn’t tease him anymore and walks around him like they’re threading through a room full of broken glass. Ginger does more medical evaluations—ones that are less to do with physical health and more to do with mental health. Most of all—champ acts different, “son—“

Jack pauses from exiting the debriefing room after giving Champ a status report and picking up another case, “I’m wondering if you should take a few days off from wo—“

“No,” Jack says curt and without a single space for bargaining. Champ is stiff when Jack looks at him, “I know you're wallowing over that girl.”

“I did what I had to do and I’m going to continue doing it.” Jack reminds him, staying steadfast in his decision. Champ shakes his head, “and it’s tearing you apart—statesmen get threats like that all the time Whiskey and they don’t go deserting their relatives or loved ones—“

“Well they're not me,” Jack states his stare is cold as he looks down at Champagne, “I can’t lose another person like that again.”

“You’ve lost her by leaving her,” his words cut through him and he knows it’s the truth, but it’s not something stubborn ol Jack is willing to withstand. Jack turns to leave again, “I’ll be off on the case.”

*****************************

You can’t help but pick up one of the sandwiches from the various food carts before they go out. It’s too tempting after standing for hours on your feet with a six month old pregnancy belly on your front—one you’re rubbing as you enjoy the taste of the mozzarella, pesto, and tomato together. The father of your child disappeared before you could even tell him—fitting considering you never grew up with a father in your house. So it has just been you and your baby girl, and well your best friend and business partner that was walking towards you now, joking “are the sandwiches up to your standards?”

“I needed something to eat after four hours of standing and being pregnant Travis,” you contest, taking another big bite. He shrugs with some sort of understanding, looking over the trays of food with you and approving them before they go off. Travis randomly starts, “I don’t think we should try to have this client again.”

You turn, finishing your sandwich with an eyebrow raise, “why? Did someone from the company say something to you—“

“Not that—although I was worried when the CEO invited his childhood priest—” he notes sending off the last tray, “I get bad vibes from the company itself.”

You think about it for a moment agreeing that something was fishy about the way a family-owned soap company was able to afford such a lavish event—something was a little off. You nod, “maybe not—I don’t want to get too close to a company that's a front. I doubt they would want us back because they’ve fired every event planner they’ve had before and the CEO’s wife already complained that the flower garnishes weren’t the correct shade of maroon.”

“We just have to finish the job then and we’ll be scott free” Travis mutters checking his watch, “just a couple hours left—what could go wrong?”

As though you were in a badly made comedy, right as Travis says that you hear clatter and gunshots come from the main event area, “......I spoke too soon didn’t I?”

*********************

Vincent Marsulio had tried to make a run for it once he realized his plans to run a million dollar drug business had gone to shit—I mean a soap company as a front? Really? Jack had dodged gunfire, tequila and the new agent rum covering him—allowing him to use his lasso to drag Vincent into Statesmen custody.

The scene was under control now—with agents and Ginger’s crime scene investigators gathering follow up information and evidence. Jack was just there to make sure the scene stayed secure and that no witnesses ran off that were revealed to be involved. Scanning the crowds of those being interviewed is when he saw you.

He should have known you were here—he should have seen your touches in the flower displays, the food selections, the drapery, and the table cloths. You were a party planner, he should have made note of that. You’re the same as the images in his mind—the memories that flash through his mind whenever he gets a flicker of your perfume or hears a laugh that sounds like yours. The only thing that's changed about you is your stomach—there's a sizable baby bump there, and he mumbles to himself “no…”

It had been seven months—seven months since he left you. It had to be his. He left you pregnant. As though you heard the gears turning in his head you turn and make eye contact with him—freezing in your place. He has to talk to you now, but you make efforts to move away, running towards a stairwell to get away from him as he shouts your name.

************

Despite being seven months pregnant you make a good chase, ducking down the stairwell and moving as fast as your swollen ankles will carry you while he shouts for you behind you. You can’t see him right now, he left, he doesn’t deserve this. Your condition must somewhat get the best of you as you end up stumbling on a landing—slowing down enough for him to catch up. You knew it was futile after all he ran faster than you even when you weren’t pregnant.

He grabs your wrist before you can go any farther, pulling you towards his body—only for you to wack a big slap to the side of his face, “how dare you—you asshole.”

“You're pregnant?” He asks quick as hell, and you frown still jabbing hits at him, “Why else am I so fucking big dickhead.”

He pulls you closer in an effort to restrain you from hitting him and from running away at any point, “is it mine?”

You had been avoiding looking at his face the entire portion of the ordeal—not wanting to see the face of the man that abandoned you. But you end up looking anyway and feel the tears spring up in your eyes. Despite the fact he left you you still feel love for him in your heart. You can’t lie to him, “it is.”

“Sugar, I’m—“ he breathes out, struck in the moment by every error he’s made in the past few months knowing he should have stayed, “I’m so sorry, please let me explain why I did what I did.”

You don’t respond just letting him speak at his own will as he settles you two down to sit on the steps of the stair. Jack tells you about his job, his wife, and the scare he had that just accumulated to him feeling like he had to leave to keep you safe. You had known about his late wife but none of the details about the affair and understood just why he was so afraid—but he still acted like an idiot. Head in hands, “why did you keep everything hidden from me Jack, I mean you lied to me about your job––no wonder I was able to find you after I found out, I was stuck looking for Jack Daniels brewery CEO instead of Jack Daniels statesmen.”

You got him there, “I should have––everyone told me I should have told you.” Silence emanates between the two of you, “I know sorry doesn’t make up for all I did––I don’t know if I can ever make up for what I did, but give me a chance because I want to be there for you and the kid–I love you sweet pea.”

Tears spring from your eyes, “I love you too Jack, we’ll figure it out I promise.”

Jack pulls you into his arms whispering what sounds like a thousand thank you’s for you and the girl in your belly, “it’s a girl you know.”

“A girl…” Jack trails off with a smile gleaming on his face and some unspoken joy in his eyes, that shifts into something of deep regret, “I was almost like him I don’t ever wanna be like him”

“You won’t.” you state firm and jack pulls away to cup your face and wipe away the errant tears still streaming down your face, “can I kiss you darling?”

“Please,” and with that the lips you have missed meld on to yours. After months, both alone and apart, both you and Jack feel a sense of security that everything will be alright––that your little family is finally whole.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sorry that its bad....

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mystery-star · 4 years

Text

Wherever you go – Spock

Pairing: Spock x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: mentions of blood and injury

Words: 3943

A/N: I had to write this after discussing the quick idea of it with @elysiansith

Please do not repost my work on other sites or platforms.

“No, I’ll do anything but that” you insisted, shaking your head

“Come on, you lost the bet, you agreed to this beforehand”

“It was agreed that I would do something that involved Spock”

“And I didn’t tell you what exactly so you’ve gotta do it”

“Come on, search something else. Make me spill a drink on him, sing a song in front of his quarter but not this”

“Nah, that won’t be as funny”

“No please” you begged

“Oh come on, he’ll ask you right away. I don’t think he likes it if people are following him around” you sighed

“But what do you mean with everywhere? I can’t go to his quarters if he doesn’t invite me in. What if he’s on the toilet?”

“Okay well that are exceptions”

“What is while I’m on my shift? I can’t just get up and leave the bridge whenever the Commander does”

“Fine, then you’ll need to say that you need to do something and then go to the toilet or something. Or just ask if you can go with him” you shook your head

“No please choose something else, this is ridiculous. Besides, when he does ask me why I’m following him, what am I supposed to say? He won’t understand the bet thing”

“Then tell him the truth”

“No”

“I bet he’ll find your declaration of love logical”

“Yeah sure. But what if someone else asks why I’m following Spock everywhere?”

“That doesn’t count. You’re not relieved then”

“Oh come on! You know exactly that Spock won’t address the matter until some days later”

“I know. Which’ll make it funnier for me”

“You’re the worst”

“I know”

As you had agreed with your friend, you would start with following Spock as soon as your shift started on the next day. But before you could start, the Captain came to you and said there was something he had to discuss with you.

“Am I in trouble?” you asked after the doors of the turbolift closed

“No, not at all. Just wanted to say that your friend informed be about the betting debt you have to honor”

“Oh God please no. I’d rather be in trouble”

“Well anyway, I just wanted to say that you’re free to leave whenever Spock goes. I might even send you with him from the start”

“What crime did I commit?”

“Now come on, Lieutenant. Almost everyone on this ship knows about your crush on Mr Pointy. Except for him but he doesn’t notice anything that has to do with others and their feelings. But something tells me, he cares for you too in a way that is more than just a professional relationship”

“Great and I just thought this couldn’t get any worse” the lift stopped and the Captain ordered to bring you to the bridge again.

“Oi, others would be happy to hear such news. Considering it’s Spock it’s almost as good as a ‘he loves you too’” you let out a groan.

“Just great” you repeated and the Captain only chuckled “I hope I die from embarrassment”

“Now come on, maybe it will quite alright”

“Yeah and you surely believe in the Easter bunny and Santa Clause?”

“Most did as a kid” you shook your head. When you finally were back on the bridge you were more or less pulled to the First Officer’s station “Mr Spock”

“Captain, Lieutenant (Y/L/N)” he greeted back.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about how you could use help sometimes”

“I doubt I have ever addressed such a matter and I do not know what could have given you the impression I would…”

“That is why I decided to name (Y/N) as your assistant”

“No” you moaned

“So I think it would be great if the two of you could get to know each other a bit and spend time together”

“No” you groaned, knowing that it meant it would only prolong your betting debt because it would deter the Vulcan from asking you why you followed him

“Very well” Spock answered after having eyed you “Please have a seat, Lieutenant” he slightly nodded his head to the vacant chair that was at an empty console.

“You know I wouldn’t mind if we collided with an asteroid today” you muttered to yourself as you sank down in the chair. It kinda looked like maybe you had to follow him to the toilet anyway to have him ask what you were doing.

As he had announced, the Captain kept sending you after Spock whenever he left the bridge and although Spock kept insisting that it was not necessary you followed him, Kirk too insisted on you accompanying him since he could also make it an order. So in a way, you were glad when your shift was over. Since Spock stayed a little longer, you too wanted to do this so that you could go with him but then you remembered that you only had to follow him, it had never been said that you had to wait for him to move. So you said goodbye and wished him a nice evening after five minutes and returned to your quarters. Of course your friend called you to hear how it was going and was delighted when you mentioned what the Captain was doing.

Also the following day was quite the same but fortunately this time Spock only had to leave once. But this evening he left with all of you and since you found it would be creepy to just follow him you took a deep breath you asked him if he would like to have dinner with you. To your surprise he agreed. But it also relieved you because otherwise you’d still have to follow him, which would have made it even more awkward. On the other hand, then he probably would have asked you about the meaning of it.

“I’m sorry by the way. For being around you all the time. But we don’t have a choice during work and I think it would make sense if we got used to it. Maybe it would help to get to know each other better” you gave a shrug

“You do not need to apologize”

“But… don’t you wonder why?”

“You mean if I wish to learn the reason that you decided to spend time with me?”

“Yes”

“No. After all you have just explained your reasoning” shit. That meant he probably wouldn’t ask you for the reason that. Of course unless you passed boundaries in a way. Which was something you were not willing to do. Not only because he was a superior officer and a colleague but also because you didn’t want him to think negatively of you “If you want, you can search a suitable table while I get food from the replicator”

“Hm” he had allowed you to leave but the rules of the lost bet said that you had to ignore that and still stay with him “Or what if we both got food and then search a place together? I don’t know maybe you have something like a favorite table or you find that there are seats that are better than others” he raised an eyebrow

“Having a preference towards a seat seems illogical but I agree to your suggestion”

“Great” you smiled.

For some reason, a part of you was surprised that you had a very nice evening with Spock and that you enjoyed it more than you thought. Of course you had to accompany him to his quarters afterwards and he had only said that you did not need to do this and but you had just insisted that you hadn’t noticed and thought it wouldn’t make sense to turn around now. But what surprised you most was that he thanked you for spending the evening with him, even though you had asked him to do so. Maybe your friend and the Captain were right. Maybe all of this wasn’t so bad. Which didn’t mean you were happy about it.

On the following day, however, you were quite glad about the fact that you were following Spock around. He was scheduled to go on a planet mission and or course Captain Kirk insisted that you went with him, as his assistant. A part of you wondered what would happen once the whole betting debt was resolved. If you would still be his assistant then. Maybe you should talk to Kirk about this. Because somehow you didn’t know if that was what you wanted. What if it meant you would be promoted? It didn’t feel right if that would just happen because of a bet. But it would be cool and a great way to pay your friend back in a way. Once you arrived on the planet, Spock started to put you into small groups in which you should explore the planet. And in the end, you were left but all teams of two were already formed so he just told you to join one of the groups

“Actually…” you said “Since I was made your assistant, I thought I could go with you?” right now you didn’t even know if you just wanted to be around him or if you just did it because of your bet. Your stupid friend had been right that you would enjoy following him at times

“Very well, Lieutenant, you may come with me” you gave a nod and took out your tricorder to get started with work. On your little tour, you finally came to a cave. While Spock stayed away from it you went closer and closer, curious to see what was inside. “Are you certain you wish to go inside?” he asked

“I just want to have a look inside. I won’t even go in far. Maybe there is something really interesting inside” he gave a nod and came closer, walking past you and entered the cave

“It actually was my cave” you muttered but followed him. He kept walking and walking until you reached a huge kind of hall “Okay wow that is awesome” you breathed as you started to make even more recordings while Spock must have seen something else. It turned out to be a nest with five big, turquoise eggs. Your superior had to squat down and started to examine them while you were not so happy anymore. What if suddenly the parents came and got mad? You doubted it ever was a good idea to get to close to animal’s babies. But the Vulcan didn’t seem to worry at all and he even touched one of the eggs with his palm. Shaking your head you walked away and started slapping the cold stone, trying to get a tricorder reading on them to determine the material. Suddenly you felt Spock look at you “Something wrong?”

“Can you try not to make any sounds?”

“Why that? Is something…”

“Shh” you were surprised that he actually shushed you. But it made you react and you were quiet, trying to listen to what he could have been hearing. Then you finally did hear something and you did not like it. It sounded like something screeching and rather loud thumps

“Maybe we should leave?” you asked Spock who gave a nod and you were trying to get back to the tunnel you had been coming from but it was blocked by a huge grey-brown animal that looked a lot like a pterosaur. “Okay I suppose Mommy is back home. And she’s blocking our only way out”

“We cannot be certain if it is a female” the animal screeched at you and started coming at you

“But we can be certain that it is mad” you growled as you jumped aside and regretted that you had no phaser with you.

“As soon as it unblocks the entrance you need to run”

“And leave you behind with this Pteranodon? It looks like it could swallow you whole”

“Judging by its size I suppose that the term Quetzalcaotlus would be more fitting”

“This or that, it’s mad and you don’t stand a chance” luckily, he took out his phaser and tried to shoot the alien but it didn’t seem to deter it a lot “Just great” you muttered as it came closer to Spock and when he tried to dive away under it, the being still managed to dig his claws into his back. When the animal moved away you saw that it had torn quite a piece of Spock’s uniform and his back was quickly covered in green blood. Unfortunately, the animal didn’t seem done and tried to pick at the Vulcan with it’s long beak, only narrowly missing him because he had rolled onto his back and then back to his stomach and was trying to get up. Not knowing what to do, you ran towards the nest and heaved one of the eggs out of it, kicking it away from it. Of course that caught the alien animal’s attention and it was slowly coming closer to you after it used it’s beak to stop the rolling egg. Quickly, you took another egg and rolled it into the other direction and then a third one in yet another direction. As it seemed the being decided that the eggs were more important than you and went after them so that you hurried over to Spock, pulling him back to his feet. He didn’t seem to be in best form, so you draped his arm over your shoulders, trying to support him

“Leaving me behind would increase your changes of escape and survival by 76.2…”

“Shh” you said “It was my idea to go in there and we both will get out. Now come on” you started pulling him back to the tunnel and he complied. Much to your luck, the alien was not following you anymore and you hoped it would stay like this and that not a second one of them would come. Shortly before you reached the exit of the cave, your superior took out his communicator, drumming up the rest of the landing party but you just snatched it out of his hand and then contacted the ship, telling them to beam Spock up right now because he was injured. “And don’t you dare saying something like ‘it’s just a scratch. I can do this’”

“Seeing that the being has hit me with three of his claws it would be incorrect to claim that I only obtained one scratch” you rolled your eyes when you felt the transporter beam and then were back on the Enterprise with him.

“Dear God, what happened?” the man behind the console asked

“We got attacked by an angry Mommy pterosaur”

“Well shit but the fact that it was a dinosaur is cool”

“I doubt it was a real dinosaur”

“Yeah whatever. All I hope is that this being wasn’t poisonous somehow because that looks quite bad like this already” you didn’t even dare to throw a glance to his back, knowing you’d regret it. You shifted your hold on him a little and wanted to bring him to sick bay when you met some doctors and nurses that probably had been on their way to you. Of course they were taking over for you and started asking questions about what had happened while they ran scanners over the two of you. Finally, you reached Medbay and one of the nurses told you that you couldn’t come in but much to your surprise Spock said that it was okay if you stayed with him. Needless to say that it flattered you and made you happy. Of course you couldn’t be in their way as they treated his injuries but afterwards you were allowed to move closer and looked down at him, not sure what to say. “Does it hurt?”

“No, the medication I received is still effective” you gave a nod

“Do you think they’ll give you more?”

“Should I request for some, yes” you gave a nod and were not so sure what else to say but luckily he continued “(Y/N)”

“Yes?”

“While your choice to help me escape as well was not entirely logical since it endangered your own life, I still appreciate your actions” you chuckled

“I suppose this is your way of saying thank you?”

“No. I merely wanted to tell you that I appreciated what you did. However, I do thank you for helping me”

“You’re welcome. And I’m sorry I even wanted to go inside this cave. If I hadn’t, this wouldn’t have happened”

“As you surely know, I have taken the lead upon entering the cave therefore you do not need to feel responsible for what has occurred for it is not your fallacy in any way” you gave a nod “I would have explored the cavern even if you had not been with me”

“So a good thing I started following you around, huh?” you chuckled. Maybe you should thank your friend anyway.

“I suppose so”

“And you still don’t wonder why?”

“I do. However, the Captain has asked me not to inquire the reason”

“He did what?”

“He requested I did not ask you for the reason that you are following me around”

“That idiot” you muttered

“Why does this bother you?”

“Uhm… just because”

“Perhaps it has to do with the fact that you wish to be around me as much as you can due to your affection for me”

“My what?!”

“Is it not true that you hold romantic affection for me?”

“I-I…. How the hell did you know that?”

“Dr McCoy has informed me about it three months, two weeks and five days ago when he has been intoxicated”

“Wait you knew for almost four months and never said a word?”

“I was thinking you would wish to tell me about it yourself”

“Fuck that’s embarrassing”

“Why do you think so?”

“Well uh, here you are, telling me you knew and you don’t even seem to care. Because you surely don’t like me the same way”

“Your statement is correct” you stood there like struck by a lightning. Of course you had suggested it but hearing it like this, in such words, made it even worse. You really had to ask your friend to stop the stupid betting debt because it did not have the effect as you both wished. “Yet I have considered the information in an attempt to determine what you mean to me. I have come to the conclusion that I care about you in a way I have never cared about another but I cannot say if this is what humans would consider as loving someone, which is why I have found it better to not tell you since it could disappoint you”

“So you say you care about me? But why would this disappoint me?”

“While I am not certain which answer humans expect after the confess their feelings, I do believe that what I have just said is not it”

“Well it wouldn’t be nice to hear this from a human but from a Vulcan it is different. I-I mean I probably have already known you would not ‘love’ me. Or well maybe you do but you would suppress it. I mean… I didn’t even know what I was expecting when I was thinking about telling you how I feel. I never really thought as far as your answer, you know. My mind just always kinda skipped that part”

“If you say that you have skipped my answer, might I inquire the outcome you have imagined?”

“Well there were different scenarios of course. In most of them we just decided to be friends, sometimes we came together as a couple and sometimes it just ended in the most logical way”

“If you would clarify, which is the most logical way?”

“Okay good back then I thought that you’d just tell me you feel nothing for me…. but now you told me that you care for me, whatever exactly that means. So maybe I was right about the friends vision one” you gave a shrug and let out a sigh

“(Y/N)?” he said after some seconds

“Yes”

“I personally would prefer one of the scenarios where we start courting” you stare at him in disbelief.

“But… what if it turns out that you don’t love me or something?”

“(Y/N), as I have already assured you I care about you. And it is a different way of affection than the one I hold for my mother or Jim. Which is why I am certain that it must be a romantic affection”

“Oh” you looked down, then started smiling “Well that sounds awesome” you said “But you don’t even know what I have planned in all my scenarios” he raised an eyebrow

“I am certain you will let me know and I am willing to try out different things since I do not know much of human courtship. Maybe I can use the time I spend on sick leave to carry out some research on the topic” you chuckled

“Only if you want. After all, you live the Vulcan way and I could do some research on that as well. And maybe it’s best if we just do whatever we both are fine with”

“That sounds agreeable” you gave a nod and considered if it was appropriate if you took his hand but then you just decided to do it and see how he reacted. It seemed, like he was a little surprised but then squeezed your hand back, making you smile.

“I suppose that dissolves my betting debt as well”

“Which betting debt?”

“Oh… well” you chuckled, not sure if you should tell him but then grinned “I’m gonna tell you the real reason I followed you around. I lost a bet and because of it, I had to follow you around until you asked me why. But since the Captain heard of it, he made sure to give me a logical reason to follow you around by making me your assistant and asking you not to ask me why I’m following you” he raised his eyebrow again

“Please remind me to offer my thanks to him and your friend”

“No that would be so embarrassing!” you protested “But that doesn’t mean I’m fired?”

“Fire?”

“Well, I only was made your assistant because of the bet”

“I would not have agreed to the proposition if I did not believe you were suitable for the position. If you prefer your previous occupation, however, I will…””

“No! I mean I like it but working with you is fun too. I just thought you would be fed up with me or what do I know. Or that you would not want me as your assistant after I told you the reason why I became it in the first place”

“I have believed humans would enjoy to work with their partner if possible?”

“Well yes, but you’re Vulcan”

“I am also half-human” you chuckled

“So you’ll half enjoy working with me?”

“No, I suppose I will fully enjoy it” you smiled at him

“I’m just asking for my own safety” you heard McCoy call suddenly “Are you two decent so I can let Jim in? Or he’ll rip off my head”

“No you may allow him to come” Spock said “There is something that I and (Y/N) must inform him about” he added with a look to you that could be described as soft. At least for his standards. Well Spock probably was right about one point: you owed your friend a big thank you.

Taglist: @softsapphicideals

#spock #spock imagine #spock x reader #spock x you

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peaxhcringe · 4 years

Note

noya’s girlfriend being insecure about herself around kiyoko and yachi (cause they are so damn cute) and noya finds out and tells her stuff like “you’re the best thing that has happened to me” and stuff

Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you like it and if not please feel free to rerequest something else. I want to thank my friend @socialxcatastrophe for helping me write the ending when I got stuck. I hope you enjoy this and I once again apologize for taking so long to finish this request.

Tags/Warnings: Suggestive content towards the end, thought of insecurities and self-doubt, a tad bit of arguing

Word Count: 2.4k

Request are: Open

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kiyoko! You look so gorgeous today my goddess!”

A sigh leaves your lips as you hear the voice of your boyfriend and his best friend bounce off the gym walls. Your eyes glance over to them, watching as Nishinoya and Tanaka make heart eyes at the other manger. Carefully, you set down the now filled water bottles next to the bench for the guys, just slightly regretting your choices of choosing to help the team out today. The squeaking of the boy’s shoes against the hardwood flooring of the gym ring your ears as Coach Ukai calls for them all to begin practice. You stand up just in time to see Noya pass you, not even giving you a second glance as he rushes onto the court like the ball of energy he is.

You have slowly gotten accustomed to Noya’s typically obliviousness to you whenever Kiyoko was around, her presence always seeming to overshine yours, even in your own boyfriend’s eyes. You’ve only been dating for a few months, and within those few months, you come to realize that there are only 2 important women in his life:

1. Kiyoko

2. You

In that exact order

You weren’t sure if people on the team noticed the way he ignored your entire being but seeing the way Ennoshita or even Daichi would look at you when Noya would start on one of his Kiyoko tangents you think they did

You didn’t hate Kiyoko, no, not at all, you completely understood why the boys gush over here like she’s gorgeous, but for your boyfriend to not even compliment you in the way he does her it hurts.

“Y/n!”

Your headshot up as Noya’s voice rang in your ear, a smile crossing your face as he speaks your name. A hopeful part of you waiting to hear sweet praise or maybe even a simple ‘you’re looking good’ from him

“Can you toss me that ball?”

The moment the words leave his mouth, you almost want to burst right there, not out of anger, but sadness. Your chest aches as your glance over to the volleyball that had landed next to you, your smile not once fading as you go to pick up the light ball before Yachi quickly grabbed it looking furious.

“How dare you Noya! Y/N deserves to be treated as more than-”

Thunk

Your eyes grew wide as Yachi fell to the ground, her shoelaces pulling down her small feet.

“Ow, that really hurt!” She whimpered her now timid voice sent a shiver down the boy’s spine as they all stared directly at her.

A sigh left your mouth, your eyes rolling in annoyance...you knew exactly what would happen next.

Suddenly all the boys rushed to her side slowly pushing you further away as they leaned down to assist the now blushing Yachi. You were grateful that they helped her but a pinch of guilt bothered you again as you heard Noya and Tanaka whispering about how cute she looked as her face was lit up in embarrassment.

“Y/n?” Kiyoko’s soft voice begins, a gentle resting on your shoulder as you turn your head to meet the woman standing next to you, who you didn’t even notice was there, to begin with.

You hum in response, too scared to speak in case the tears that were slowly building behind your eyes decided to fall.

“He loves you,” She says simply, a soft smile resting on her face as she looks at you

You scoff, crossing your arms across your chest as you tilt your head down to face the floor, a lump growing in your throat. For a moment you think to reply to her ‘I think he loves you more’ or even ‘I doubt that’, but instead the words that leave your mouth are

“I know”

Did you believe the words you spoke? No, not one bit, but you didn’t want to have her worry for you or even speak to you any longer. Kiyoko simply nods at your repose, before silently walking away, back to the coaches as the boys continue on their practice game.

Yachi had gotten up now throwing the ball across the gym floor causing the boys to sprint after it like a pack of hungry wolves.

You realized a more accurate version of your list put you even further down:

Kiyoko

Yachi

You

Before the game even finishes you leave, not being able to watch your boyfriend play and always checking to make sure Kiyoko or the new manager Yachi were watching his epic ‘rolling thunder’ move. It felt weird to not walk home with Noya by your side, always jumping around and holding a popsicle tightly in his hand while the other held yours. The way he’d look at you with such love and adoration while you two laid together watching movies or even when you both would chill at the park always sent your heart racing, but lately, it seemed as if that look in his eyes were gone, maybe you were just being delirious, but you couldn’t help but think maybe he lost feelings. The only worst part of today was the fact that your 4-month anniversary was coming up soon, a small part of your mind wondering if you’d even be able to make it to the 4-month mark.

It was around 7 pm when you finally received a text from him, a simple

Where did you go?

You sighed, debating on telling him the truth or plain out lying. You hated lying to Noya but, you also hate being too harsh on the truth. Your eyes close as you lay your head against the headboard of your bed, your shoulder relaxing into the soft pillows, before lifting the phone above your face and replying

I went home Yuu

The text to you sounded a bit more passive-aggressive than intended, as you reread over it after sending it. Within minutes there’s already a reply, a bit of your heart jumping at how quick he responded.

Oh, okay

A frown took place of the tiny smile that tried to show on your lips, your chest almost hurting at the comment. Without a reply, you threw your phone back onto your bed, watching as it bounces off the mattress and onto the floor below. A groan leaves your lips as you stare down at your phone, not even bothering to pick up the phone that was now lying face down. Your eyes glance at the clock, the red numbers of the clock showing 8:15 pm, the sun almost completely set, a gorgeous purple and orange sky shining into your room. You watch as a group of birds fly against the sky, the darkness of the birds looking almost like a painting against the sunset. Exhaustion from the long day at school and the stress from watching your boyfriend’s reactions at practice quickly began to catch up to you the more your body began to relax against your bed, your eyes slowly closing sleeping trying to overtake you.

**********

A soft knock against your bedroom door woke you, the door opening with a creak and filling the once darkened room with the light from the hallway.

“What is it?” You call out, your voice slightly hoarse from how dry your throat had become

There’s an eerie moment of silence, as your bedroom door closes and the floorboards began to creak as someone walks across the room. Your eyes open and try to adjust to the dark room, just in time to notice the person laying something down in your desk chair before making their way to your bed. Lifting a hand your rub your eyes, before you reach over to your nightstand and flipping on your lamp.

“Yuu?” You mumble, noticing the short figure that stood in front of you “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t answer my texts” He spoke, a hint of a pout in his voice as he comes to stand by your bed

You rub your eyes one last time before sitting up, the warm sheets slowly falling down your arms letting the cool air rush against your skin.

“You texted me?” You asked, not remembering ever getting a text from him or even hearing the little ringtone he chose himself

You lifted your arms up to stretch, before picking up your phone that laid on the nightstand, opening the bright screen to see a bunch of texts from him.

Are you okay? Daichi texted me telling me you looked upset before you left Y/n? You okay? y/n? I’m coming over

A sigh left your mouth as you set your phone back down, only this time laying it on the bed. You lifted your head, your eyes meeting for a split second before Nishinoya climbed onto your bed, sitting across from you.

“What’s up sunshine?” Nishnoya asks, his head tilting to the side like a curious puppy.

Your gaze moves from him as you shrug your shoulders, although you knew exactly what was wrong. Instinctively you went to the play with the edge of your blanket, trying to find a way to calm the anxiety creeping up in the back of your mind.

“Promise you won’t be mad?” You ask, not looking at him, embarrassed to tell him the truth.

“Of course not! I’d never be mad at you” He assures, one of his hands reaching out and grabbing yours, giving it a small squeeze before his eyes met yours

“Are you still- I mean do you still...like me?” The question bounced off your lips, the words fading into the silence of the dimly lit room.

Noya looked at you confused, his hand moving to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I’m confused, of course, I still like you, you’re my girlfriend and I-”

“Then why don’t you act like it!” You shouted, cutting Noya off causing his eyes to grow wide before your own filled with tears.

You had pushed him away now, unable to stop the waterfall of emotions and tears. He stared at you for a moment in shock before grabbing your arms, putting them on either side of you begging for you to look at him.

“I- I don’t understand Y/N, what did I do?”

You scoffed as he stared at you waiting for an answer, “Seriously Noya,” you said purposely avoiding his first name, “how can you not tell?!”

He stared at you dumbfounded, causing you to sit up all the way, angrier than before.

“How do you think it makes me feel to see you flirt all day with Kiyoko or Yachi and not even bear me a second glance! Why in the hell am I your girlfriend when you obviously would rather have one of them?!”

Noya frowned and quickly put his hand under your chin, causing your eyes to meet with his again. “Why would I ever want anyone over you, Y/N?”

You sniffled your anger fading as you looked into his sincere eyes. “You constantly flirt with them Yuu, and it hurts.”

His eyes grew wide as he realized why you were upset.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry I didn’t think-”

“That’s the problem Yuu,” You whisper avoiding his sharp eyes, “you don’t think.”

You realized that you had gone too far when you saw the look that spread across Noya’s face.

“Yuu I-”

“You’re right.” He got up off of the bed, his feet hitting the floor before he headed towards the door.

You quickly realized what was happening and ran after him grabbing his wrist before he shut the door. You walked out after him, slowly shutting your bedroom door before leaning up against it, afraid to look at him and see what you had done.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered moving your hand into his, interlocking your fingers not wanting him to leave.

“You don’t have to be.” He whispered turning around and slamming his hand against the door.

His eyes were swelling with tears as he buried his face in your neck.

“Yuu…”

“I never meant to hurt you, I don’t deserve you Y/N, I’m so sorry…” His voice came out in fragments as he tried to regain his composure.

“It’s okay..” you lied, not wanting to hurt him anymore before he pulled back in shock.

“Y/n, I know it’s not, god I never wanted you to think you were anything less than the most important thing that had happened to me.”

“What?” You whisper, unsure if you heard him right.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me Y/n.”

Your eyes fill with tears as you throw yourself into his arms, gripping him tightly as his hand slowly starts to stroke your messy hair.

“That’s all I wanted to hear.” You whisper against the fabric of his bright orange uniform.

“It’s not enough Y/n, I promise I will never make you feel like that again, you’re the only girl I’d ever want.”

His hand suddenly slips into the pocket of his shorts pulling out a small, black box.

“I was going to wait until our anniversary to give this to you but I think it makes more sense to give it to you now.”

You slowly open the box to find a set of matching rings, each engraved with the day Noya asked you out all those months ago.

“I love it.” You whisper, grabbing the smaller ring for yourself and slipping the medium-sized onto his.

His eyes meet with you before he suddenly leans forward pressing his lips against yours, causing you to drop the soft, black box in shock.

Your arms instinctively go around his neck as he picks you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pushes you against the door. His hands slipped under your school uniform you forgot to change out of earlier that day, the ring cold against your skin.

His hand starts reaching for the doorknob, struggling to get it open as he refuses to take his eyes off of you.

“Yuu..” You whimper as the door opens and he whisks you inside, slamming it behind you as he tosses you on the bed.

He groans against your neck as he lands on top of you, your legs instantly falling open, locking around his waist.

“Let me show you how much you mean to me, Y/n.” He says staring directly into your eyes as his body moves closer.

Your face turns a bright red as he rips off the buttons on your once nice uniform and throws in onto the floor where your phone had landed just hours ago. His breath tickled against the side of your neck as he started to leave a mark against your soft skin before his hands started to trace the lace in your exposed bra.

“Please..” you whisper, afraid and excited about what Noya would do next.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! My request are open so please feel free to request but please read my rules before doing so! Thank you again!

#beth answers ✍️#beth requests✨#haikyuu smut #nishinoya yuu #nishinoya fluff #nishinoya smut #haikyuu requests #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu nishinoya #nishinoya x y/n #haikyuu

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nyxdelanuit · 4 years

Text

Papa Mammon (Mammon x F! Reader)

Lesson 25 got me feeling some sort of way, and I felt compelled to write this. @mammonrights is also to blame, since this is for her.

WARNINGS: NSFW, BREEDING KINK, AMY’S FINGER KINK, DUMBASSES TO LOVERS, GENERAL SOFT DOM MAMMON

You had tried to get that night out of your head, but the memories seemed to haunt you whenever you were left on your own. The memories of the bright lights, your hand clasped with Mammon’s. The feeling of being pressed close to his body as he asked if you were trying to make him lose control. The way you shivered every time Little D #2 called him ‘Papa Mammon.’ You didn’t think of yourself as a particularly maternal person, but when it came to Mammon…

It started just a passing idea. You had already wanted Mammon, that much was certain after the night at the carnival. But letting him cum inside of you? That sent such a sweet heat bubbling in your stomach. It grew from there, and although you and Mammon had yet to go any further than you did that night, you couldn’t help your how your thoughts spiraled. Now all you could think of when you spotted his face is how much you truly wanted to make him Papa Mammon.

You danced around him as you went on with your life, a subtle touch here and there, a sultry look when you leave a room. Just enough to keep him looking at you. Enough for him to sulk when another brother took up your free time. They had definitely consumed every waking moment since your return, the paltry months of apart, making the desire to spend time together that much stronger.

You had finally escaped Levi’s clutches after he had passed out half-way through his latest favorite anime. You were grateful for the out, but the nap you had taken midway through season two made you feel like you’d be up for hours. Sneaking back to your room was risky, being past curfew. Luckily you knew that a few doors down, there would be a bed that would gladly welcome you.

You hoped.

You slipped the door shut behind you, surprised that the lights were still on in Mammon's room. You spotted him sitting on the couch, his glasses abandoned, and his head thrown back as he murmured to himself. His arms were sprawled over the back of the couch, and you did your best to slide into the space next to him before startling him out of his thoughts.

"What do you think you're doin', creepin' into my room?" His blush gave him away, secretly happy for your presence after so long.

"Levi kept me in his room so long I fell asleep. When I woke up, he had fallen asleep too, but I'm awake now. I didn't want to be caught by Lucifer after curfew, so I figured you'd let me hide in your room for tonight." You smiled innocently as Mammon stared at you.

"Ya fell asleep in Levi's room?" Ah yes, what did you expect? He huffed a little longer until he realized you had asked to stay in his room for the night. "Ya want the Great Mammon to hide ya for the night? It's gonna cost you. Ya better feel lucky; I don't let just any human stay in my room." He shied away from your sight, but you only giggled.

"Mammon, it's just us here. Don't think I've forgotten about the other night. You can drop the act." You leaned against his side, reveling in the warmth he gave off. Mammon didn't speak, he only dropped his arm to cover your shoulders.

“I thought ya would’ve forgotten, with how much ya hang around my brothers.” He pouted.

“Mammon, how could I forget! You said we were crazy in love and dating.” You watched as his face darkened to a cherry red.

“Ya don’t have to tease me.” He whined.

"I'm only teasing if you didn't mean it." You were fairly confident that he was honest when he told you he loved you, especially when he held you so tightly to his chest. But Mammon was stubborn as always. Away from the magic of that night, he kept his feelings locked under his flimsy mask. Luckily, you had learned a few tricks to get past it.

With a deep breath, you swung your leg over Mammon's lap, straddling. His hands flew to your hips, a strangled cry escaping him at your suddenness. Before his eyes could slip from yours, you trapped his face between your hands, running your fingertips through his hair the way you knew he liked. You felt him relax underneath you, and you took the chance to place a delicate kiss on his lips.

“Do you think about that night?” Mammon nodded, seemingly captured under your spell. “I do too.”

"I can't take it when you're this close. If ya don't stop, I won't be able to control myself." You believed him, truly. Out of all the brothers, he seemed to have the most control. Never once had his anger gotten the best of him; not once had he lost his cool in front of you. It was endearing at any other time, but that's not what you wanted then. You leaned in, letting your breath ghost against his lips before he surged forward. Finally, a taste of what you had been daydreaming of.

Once he began, it became increasingly difficult to pull away. He hadn’t been lying when he told you that kissing you only made him want to do it more, and you were more than happy to oblige. Yet the ache in your core reminded you that it wasn’t the only thing you wanted. You pulled away with a light tug to his hair, and there was nothing to stop Mammon from continuing this time. He pulled you closer to his chest, laving kisses and bites over your delicate neck, drawing gasps from you every time his sharp canines scraped against the tender skin.

“Mammon, what if I don’t want you to control yourself.” You felt him twitch underneath you, and just barely stopped yourself from grinding down on his hardening length. He groaned into your neck.

"Are ya sure?" Damn his self-control. You bit your lip as you thought it through, this could go one of two ways. You could tell Mammon what you've been thinking of, and he could jump on the chance to lose himself in you, or he could be appalled, and any chance you had of getting into Mammon's bed would become a lot smaller.

"You want to know what I think about the most from that night?" He nodded against your shoulder, the strain from holding back obviously taking a toll on him. Your voice dipped as you whispered in his ear, "I think of that Little D calling you Papa… and how much I want to make you a real papa. How bad I want you to fill me up, to mark me inside and out. Let everyone know I'm the Great Mammon's human."

The world spun around you, Mammon moving faster than you had ever seen. One moment, you were on the couch with Mammon underneath you, and the next you were sprawled out on his bed, his demon form looming over you with glowing eyes.

"Ya really did it now," he rutted against you sharply, pulling a dazed breath from your lungs. "Did ya really think I could control myself when ya say such temptin' things? You're mine, human. No one else is allowed to touch ya now. Ya want me to fuck ya? Want me to fill ya up real good?" You nodded, all restraint thrown out the window the moment your back hit the bed. With a predatory smile, Mammon drew his finger down your neck, the sharp claw at the end tracing delicately over your tingling skin before it reached the collar of your shirt. It tore through the buttons with ease, the ruined fabric was pushed roughly off your shoulders, and you scrambled to help him. He wasn't satisfied with that, though, ripping through the middle of your bra before throwing both offending pieces of fabric off his bed.

His hand wasted no time mapping the curves of your stomach, pausing over where would fill you before dipping his fingers under the waistband of both your skirt and your panties. He pulled them down, pulling back to untangle them from your ankles. He sat back, looking upon you bare for the first time. You couldn’t help but squirm under his darkened gaze, you had wanted this too long to attempt covering yourself from his stares.

He took his time to look you over, eyes traveling over your legs and pausing with a seductive lick to his protruding canine as he drank in the sight between your legs, no doubt already dripping and waiting for him. He didn't linger long, his hands following his eyes as they raked over your stomach to the peaks of your breasts. His hands enveloped them easily, and you were once again amazed at the differences between the two of you. His fingers absentmindedly traced over your pebbling nipples as he looked at you, the serious expression on his face was not one you were accustomed to.

“Last chance, baby. Ya can get up and leave now, or you’re mine. No one else’s, and not just for a little bit.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss and swallowing the moans he no longer held back.

"I told you, I love you, Mammon." He let his head drop against your shoulder with a whispered curse before propping himself up with an arm tangled in his sheets. His mouth replaced the hand on your breast, lapping and nipping at the sensitive nub. Your back arched off of the bed to press further into his mouth, and he groaned. His hand slipped from the other breast, pinching your nipple softly before reaching up.

"Be a good girl, and get my fingers nice and wet." He panted, sending feather-light pulses of pleasure through your chest. You opened your mouth as soon as you felt his fingers trace your lips, tracing the digits with your tongue before closing your mouth around them. Mammon rutted against the bed as you swallowed around his fingers. He started slowly thrusting them in your mouth, pressing them deeper than you thought you could take. When your throat started constricting against the calloused pads, he removed them altogether. You sucked in a breath with a shuddering cough, and Mammon was quick to praise you.

“Such a good girl, such a good little human takin’ my fingers so well.” He cooed, his cobalt eyes pinning you to the mattress better than his hands ever could. His drenched fingers fell down the planes of your stomach, tracing around your heat in a way that made your head spin. “Gonna take my fingers, yeah? Gonna let me stretch ya out before I fuck a baby in ya?” You nodded, head heavy with desire.

Mammon was reaching his breaking point, quickly thrusting two fingers inside your dripping core. He bit at his lip, the tip of his canines digging into the skin as he spread his fingers inside you, trying to speed up the process.

"Please, Mammon, please, I don't want to wait any longer." You tried to grind against his palm as his fingers worked within you, but it was no replacement for what you really wanted.

"Greedy little treasure, you want my cock that bad?" He teased, placing open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone.

"Yes, I'm your greedy little human, I want it so bad." You whined at the inhuman growl Mammon let out as he nipped at your skin. His fingers increased their pace, curling up against the spongy tissue and making you writhe under his touch. Although you had wanted it, you still keened at the loss of Mammon's fingers, but you were quickly enthralled by the sight of Mammon ripping off his clothes, a hunger in his eyes that could rival Beel's.

You were barely able to tear your eyes from him to watch him palm his length. You thought you might have wanted a little more time to prep when you saw the size of him. His fingers would be a joke compared to the way your throat would tighten around his cock. He was thick and longer than you were used to, a mouthwatering curve telling you that he’d effortlessly drive you crazy.

“Please, Mammon, please, I can’t wait.” You sounded debauched, but you couldn’t find the will to care. He sent you a cocky smirk, rubbing the silvery slick he collected from your cunt over the head of his dick before giving himself a few shallow strokes.

He rubbed himself against your neglected clit, giving a breathy laugh as you tried to buck into the sensation. “So impatient, you’re lucky I can’t hold back any longer.” He gripped your hip, throwing your leg over his hip as he eased into your tight slit. The melody of your whines and Mammon’s moans sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

He paused for a moment when he was fully seated, savoring how your heat enveloped him so sweetly. That would be the only respite he would give you though, gripping your thighs with a biting hold as he started thrusting deeply. Each meeting of your hips drove you further up his bed, pulling a deep growl from Mammon's chest as your body inadvertently tried to escape him.

He pulled you back to him by your hips with a snarl, his nails pricking into the supple flesh, and heightening the pleasure coursing through you. You were right about his dick, every pass filled you more, rubbing perfectly against your fluttering walls. Your pleasure climbed as Mammon quickened his pace, not yet satisfied with your keening cries. The dark chuckle that escaped Mammon snapped you out of the lustful haze clouding your head.

"Ya know, babe, Levi's dumb little comics did teach me somethin' useful. Ya ever heard of a mating press?" You would have laughed, the thought of Mammon stealing Levi’s hentai so ridiculous in this context, but the breath was ripped from your lungs before you could say a thing. Mammon nearly folded you in half as your legs rested on his shoulders, pushing himself ever deeper into you with bruising force. “Take it, treasure. You wanted all of me, so take it. I’m gonna fill ya up so full.” You could barely breathe between the feral smacking of Mammon’s hips against your ass and the pressure of him leaning against your legs as they folded against your chest.

He looked positively ethereal above you, wild white hair touseled around his ebony horns. His eyes glowed a deep blue, shining with possessiveness and lust, and hidden deep within, the tenderness that kept him in check even now. The curve of his dick was even more pronounced this way, dragging sinfully over every sensitive spot while the hair that trailed over his stomach teased your clit. You were so close, you just needed a little more.

Luckily, Mammon was in tune with your greed, your lust for more. It was like a drug to him, the dizzying rush of his human, his treasure wanting more of him so badly. It drove him insane, he just wanted to consume and devour all you had to offer him. It was such a fine line to balance on, teasing himself with the edge of oblivion, knowing you trusted him to lose control just enough. He could live forever on this feeling alone. His lithe fingers trailed down your leg, finding the jewel nestled in your fold, prime for Mammon's taking. He was always drawn to such things, after all.

“Tell me treasure, tell me ya want me.”

"I want you, Mammon, only you." His cock twitched at your admission, heart beating erratically at how easily the words spilled from your mouth.

“Tell me ya love me.”

"I love you, Mammon, more than I've ever loved anything, please." He groaned low and deep, rumbling in his chest as tears threatened to drown his sight. His fingers nimbly drew patterns on your clit, pushing you higher, closer to your peak.

“I love ya so much, my treasure. I’m gonna fill you up so good with my love, you’re gonna be dripping it for days. Everyone’s gonna know who ya belong to, especially when ya start showin’.” His eyes rolled back as you clenched in response to his words. “You’re such a good girl for me, I love ya.” All you could do now is hold onto his arms as he pounded into you relentlessly, the calloused finger on your clit rubbing frantically on the edge of pain. “Cum for me, my treasure. Cum and I’ll fuck a baby into ya, just like ya want.” He begged, and that was all it took to push you over the edge, the cascade of your release flowing over Mammon and staining the sheets below you.

He whined, low and desperate as he bucked into you with abandon. The rhythmic pulsing seemed to pull him in, gripping him for all that he was worth. With a final look at your blissed-out face, Mammon came within you, filling you to the point that his release dripped down to join yours on the blankets.

He moved you slowly after he recovered, taking the time to stretch your legs out as he lowered them around his hips. Once you had caught your breath, he reluctantly pulled out from your heat, collapsing next to you on the bed before rolling to face you. His fingers traced through your hair, not unlike how you usually played with his. “Ya alright? I wasn’t too rough with ya, was I?” You shook your head with a smile.

“It was perfect, Mammon.” You hummed in contentment, stretching out your sore muscles before cuddling into his chest. His breath hitched, and it took him a moment to wrap his arm around your waist.

“Did ya mean what you said? About wantin’ to have my kid?” His voice was soft, unsure.

“Of course, silly. Maybe more than one.” You could practically feel his heart skip under your hands.

“And you love me?”

“And I love you.”

“I love ya too.” You hummed in response, sleep pulling heavily at your mind.

"C'mon treasure, let's get you cleaned up before we go to bed." He laughed softly at your pouting face, also reluctant to move. If he got up, all this might have been a dream. Surely it'd be better to just spend forever in his bed than to wake up and find you gone. But he knew that your needs were more important, and if anything happened to his human, he'd never forgive himself. "Fine, guess I'll just have to carry ya. I'm not makin' this a regular thing, though." A lie, he knew as soon as he held your content body in his arms. He'd carry you around everywhere if you asked. To the bathroom and back would be a good start.

#mammon x reader #mammon x mc #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me #Nyx writes #for amyyyy

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ddaehyeon · 4 years

Text

ophiuchus - you have this limited stack of sticky notes. write whatever you want on it, and that note would magically appear somewhere in your soulmate’s line of sight during that day.

send me a member and a constellation!

— pairing: jung subin + gn!reader

— genre: fluff, soulmate au, office au

— word count: 1.5k

— requested ☆ victon masterlist

today will be the start.

that was the words scribbled on a blue sticky note you kept in between the pages of your favorite book. the last note you received from your soulmate. you randomly found it by your desk as you were working on your resume for a manufacturing company you were trying to get into. months had passed since you last got a note, so you assumed it was your soulmate’s final words to you.

a fascinating way to get to know your soulmate, although you doubt you ever got the chance to send your soulmate any type of notes. you can’t remember having that limited stack of sticky notes similar to what your friends would gush about during college. and your soulmate wasn’t too keen on giving off their identity either, settling for a few words of encouragement every other day and sometimes, random words. like really random ones. there was even a time they sent off a what seemed to be a grocery list.

though you got a hold of their last note, their other notes were no longer with you. with most of it only appearing in your line of sight, either too far to be reached or too awkward to pick up.

“good morning, you’re the new analyst, right?” a man with towering height greeted you, slumping a box on your table. things you supposed were necessary for your job. you peered over their id, their smiling photograph looking back at you. choi byungchan.

“i am.” a small curve made its way to your brim, lighting up your face a bit. though there was no point in denying that you were actually worried about what you were to do. the new environment adequate for your stomach to twist in both nervousness and excitement.

byungchan looked at the close area, the nearest cubicles were ones occupied by employees who probably had started their day way too early. already in the middle of typing out reports, with some answering phone calls and pacing in and out of the area. “our advertising manager is scary.”

a clearing of the throat stopped you from whatever question you were to throw as to why byungchan said that. another guy appeared next to your cubicle, he was holding a couple of brown envelopes. “am i?”

you shot a look on his id, his name easily spotted. jung subin. underneath, his title proudly printed. he was the advertising manager.

“just kidding.” byungchan let out a chuckle before grinning to the other. waving in your direction before leaving your cubicle.

subin watched him all along before he stepped closer to you, placing what he was carrying on the table. it was a few clippings and report summary of the former trends and advertising plans. “i compiled everything that you might need there, on the sticky note my email’s written. if ever you need additional data, just send me a message.”

“thank you,” you said with a nod. opposite to what byungchan had warned, subin wasn’t really scary. though you had to agree that his sharp look made him somewhat intimidating. gazing at the sticky note stuck on the top of the envelope, a cold feeling crawled onto your skin. breathe immediately sucked in, heart missing one beat— wait a minute.

“is something wrong?” subin asked, halting your train of thoughts, but not the trail of sensation that was rapidly setting in your body.

you shook your head, unable to commit to any verbal response.

his writing was familiar.

awfully familiar.

never did the idea leave your mind. for good days it remained there.

subin wasn’t in his office when you got there. you’d simply leave the files he had asked for only if you didn’t need some other monthly data. quite urgent of a need that you were willing to wait just a little bit until his meeting ends.

unable to hold still in sitting on the couch, you stood and wandered around his office. supplies tidily stacked on the shelves, a pile of documents on his table, most of the former advertising campaigns stuck on the bulletin adjacent to the sofa. the thing that caught your eyes the most was the handwritten weekly schedule. his handwriting.

once again, you ended up having a staring game with the paper. trying to analyze it as if it was your schedule, when in fact you were not really paying attention to what was written. all your focus fixated on how it was written. curving in rush, yet still neat.

the door swung open almost inaudibly or perhaps you were simply lost with your thoughts that you failed to perceive it. not until subin’s voice echoed in your ears as he stood behind you did you notice that he was already back.

“i’m free this weekend,” subin casually said, a chuckle heard from him afterward as he walked towards his table to settle down his notebook.

you shook your head, a little abashed of how he caught you in the act of staring at his writing. oh well, his weekly schedule. “that’s not it.”

nodding his head, he sat down on his chair. “then why were you looking at my schedule ever so intently?”

“just…” stepping away from the bulletin, you walked closer to his table. for a moment, you contemplated whether to tell him about your thoughts or not. but there was nothing weird with finding someone’s handwriting familiar, right? it wasn’t such a strange thing, right? meeting his gaze was enough of a reassurance, quite inquisitive too. “i think your handwriting is familiar.”

“it is?” he raised a brow at your words. “what do you mean?”

unsure of what to say, you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind. “today will be the start.”

the puzzlement that came across his features allowed an awkward smile to come to your lips. maybe it was some kind of coincidence. he wasn’t that person, no? admittedly, that was quite a disappointment. you shook your head in an attempt to take the words back. “nevermind.”

that was ignored though, subin’s frown melted upon a realization. “so you were that person who kept on sending those animal doodles when i was a kid?”

and it was your turn to be confused. “what?”

a knowing smile lit upon his lips, welcoming and a bit nostalgic. eyes discerning, warm gaze as if he had found someone he had been looking for. “do you not remember drawing something on a paper and it disappearing?”

“wait, so you mean—”

there were only a few instances it occurred or at least that was the depth your memories could still recognize. around kindergarten, you had this notepad that you weren’t entirely sure how you got. its pages were pigmented in bright and whimsical colors. and you filled it with the same amount of playfulness through doodles of animals and flowers, most were silly, but fun to make. however, none of it lasted in the notepad, all disappearing after the day it was drawn. you didn’t mind though, thinking that perhaps someone just pulled it off or it just magically vanished.

it was magical, yes, but it didn’t just disappear.

“i even have most of it kept,” subin confirmed, pulling a drawer and retrieving his keys from it. lifting his hand, he revealed a keyring that had a small drawing of a bunny locked on it. the color of the paper familiar to you, regardless of the many shades of color there was. its blue tone was distinct. “this drawing was from you?”

you took a few steps closer to him to study the keychain which he ended up handing to you. shooting him a look, a question slipped out of your tongue. “you mean you were actually able to get some sticky notes from me?”

subin bobbed his head up and down, his smile spreading in delight. “when we were younger.”

later that day, subin insisted on walking you to the bus stop. the remaining rays of sunlight brushes upon your figure, two shadows moving from behind as the two of you strolled on the sidewalk. you were unable to hold any more conversations earlier due to the other office tasks both of you had to work on.

“so why haven’t you been writing?” you asked, breaking the silence that had been existing ever since you stepped out of the building.

subin shrugged. “i ran out of it.”

“i see.” you nodded at his words, feet stopping in one go when you thought of another question. something you’d been curious about. “what do you mean by ‘today will be the start’ on your last note?”

“oh that?” subin’s track halted as well, a moment taken to look at the sky. the colors altering to what seemed to have been the pigments of the sticky notes the two of you had exchanged— of orange and red. “it just meant that from that day onwards, i will simply allow fate to work, to bring us together.”

he turned to look at you, the curve on his lips was able to spark a glimmer in his eyes. “and it seems like it did.”

#victonwriters #victon imagines #victon scenarios #victon oneshots #victon fluff #victon #jung subin #subin #victon x reader #kpop imagines #requests #constellation prompts #to edit!#suddenly feeling rusty with writing after going all out with academic papers but anyways

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crossroadsfossil · 3 years

Text

Sunburns

Summary:

Dabi used to have a soulmark on his wrist. He didn’t have one anymore. It had burned off sometime during his teenage years and he hadn’t thought of it since. No longer having a mark didn’t mean he lost his soulmate, however. He still felt them. He was one of those pairs that shared pain and shared pleasure.

The two of them shared both often enough that Dabi had a pretty good idea what sort of man his other half was. Reckless and selfish and covered in as many hurts as Dabi was.

Dabi prayed to gods he didn’t believe in that they would never, ever meet in this lifetime or the next.

A03 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31346459

Prompt: Soulmates

Tags: Soulmate au, Soulmates are different for everyone but dabi has soulmate mark and soulmate pain-sharing, fun right?, oblivious dabi, not so oblivious hawks

---------------------------------------------

Dabi knows he has a soulmate.

Some people are born with marks. He was not, and it was something his mother told him was a good thing.

He didn’t remember when he got his mark- he just remembers it was sometime before his hair had faded fully to white. It was a small mark, on the inside of his left wrist.

The mark was gone now, having burnt away with the rest of his skin, but it used to be a small, black diamond. Small enough that you could mistake it for a mole or a freckle. It’s probably for the best that it was small. His father would have burnt if off in the hopes that he would forget it.

He rubbed a thumb over where the mark used to be, catching on one of the staples there and sending a familiar zing of pain up his arm.

That was another thing.

He knew he had a soulmate; he knew they could feel his pain. He’d felt theirs often enough growing up.

Hunger pains. Pricking needles in his toes and fingers, not unlike when Fuyumi lost control of her quirk and had almost frozen his fingers. There were times when parts of him ached- throbbing bruises that weren’t his own and backaches. He hated the backaches the most. They weren’t severe, but they felt much like the growing pains he’d had as a teenager, or those long months after the incident on the mountain when he was growing the worst of his muscles back. No matter how good his back-alley doctor was, she couldn’t do much to ease those deep aches.

A shadow crossed overhead, blocking out the light pollution and the dim glow from a nearby building. He glanced up, following the form as the figure banked and came toward him, wings pushing backwards to slow his descent before landing with that strange little hop of his.

“Hey, firebug.” Hawks greeted, wings held awkwardly as the hero shrugged off a backpack.

“What do you want?” Dabi asked, not getting up from his seat. Parts of him were overheating, a combination of the low-fever he had been fighting the entire week combined with the overuse of his quirk from a fight earlier that day.

“To see my favorite asshole.” Hawks said, legs tucking under him as he sat down in front of Dabi, pulling things out of his bag. It took a moment for Dabi to focus on what, exactly, Hawks had been pulling out, but once he had, he realized it was medical supplies and what looked like food. Hawks gestured for Dabi to hold out his arms.

Dabi flipped him off.

“Seriously? I can smell you from here.”

“How the fuck did you get here so fast?”

“The doctor called. The not-league one. Said you missed an appointment. Grumbled something I won’t repeat.”

That caused Dabi’s brows to rise. “What, afraid to repeat filthy words in case your media presence catches it?”

Hawks barked out a laugh, tugging his own gloves off and gesturing for Dabi’s arms again. He relented, shrugging out of his coat and giving Hawks one of his arms. The skin was already pulling back from the seams on his hand. Hawks gently pressed against the skin with his fingertips, gauging the heat that was still trapped within. It wasn’t the first time Hawks had done this- at this point, most of the league has helped Dabi at one point or another. Some, like Spinner and Hawks, because the smell bothered them. Others, like Toga, because she was forever fascinated by the way his seams would bleed. Twice and Shigaraki and oddly enough, Compress, were those who actually seemed sincerely concerned about him, although all three expressed such in wildly different fashions.

“No. I won’t repeat it because I have no idea how to make those sounds with my mouth. I’m a bird, not a cat.” Hawks said before his focus was completely on Dabi’s arms. Dabi let the hero work. It was actually fascinating to watch the switch between the celebrity mask and the hero mask. The true hero mask. The one that settled a little more heavily on his face, that seemed to fit just a smidge better than any other fake expression he wore.

Dabi’s stomach grumbled about halfway into letting Hawks tend to him. Not a breath later one of his feathers was hovering in front of him, carrying a manju on top of it. Dabi’s nose wrinkled.

“Do I want to know where that feather’s been?” Dabi asked, although he still took the manju from them. He bit into it, almost groaning in delight. This was from the store by Nakano station.

“It’s a short list. My back, the shower, my bed. It’s one of my auxiliaries. It doesn’t see much action.” Hawks said as he finished the arm. Dabi didn’t move, more amused to watch Hawks shuffle like a crab around to his other side instead of getting to his feet like a normal person.

By the time Dabi finished all the food in the bag and started working on the bottles of water, Hawks had moved to Dabi’s back, pushing Dabi’s shirt up in order to work on his shoulders. He tutted over them- grumbling about how if Dabi kept this up, the scarring was going to extend again. Dabi tuned him out, staring at the city skyline until more small feathers floated towards him, carrying a familiar pull bottle.

He eyed the pills warily, no matter how tempting it was to down a handful. The pain was starting to ramp up a notch, a residual burn that was quite familiar to him by now. It was also deep enough that there would be inflammation in the rest of his body by morning. It would settle in his joints and make walking and moving painful while his body attempted to heal from the overexertion, and that was before whatever side effects this fever decided to throw at him. He could feel the headache coming on, which was odd as he normally didn’t get headaches when sick.

The feathers shook the pill bottle insistently. He didn’t doubt that they were legit. Hawks probably got him good painkillers, unlike some of the dealers who like to swap out every other pill for a lookalike or grind them up and cut them with other things.

“You should take these,” Hawks said, voice tense. Dabi didn’t reach for the pills, just sipped at the water until it was gone. Another water bottle was offered and he took it.

“I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, well. If I can smell you that means you’re hurting so just take the pills. I can always call your doctor back and let her know.”

Dabi weighed the options. He could take the pain meds and be pain-free and a little out of it for twelve hours or he could piss off his doctor and annoy Hawks all at once. The latter was incredibly tempting, up until Hawks dug a knuckle into his ribcage.

“Fine- fine. See? I’m taking them.” Dabi said, snagging the bottle from the feathers, ignoring the sigh of relief from Hawks. As soon as the hero leaned forward to grab something, he elbowed the hero in the face.

“Fucking hell Dabi-” Hawks hissed, jerking back and gingerly touching his nose. Dabi hadn’t broken it. Hadn’t even bloodied it, the baby. Before he could react, one of the feathers chucked a water bottle at his face. His nose ached, and he was bleeding, although when he reached up to check it seemed to be coming from one of his seams and not his nose, no matter how much his nose was aching. Just what he needed. More pain.

“You’re such a dick.” Hawks grumbled, getting to his feet. Despite his grumbling, he still offered a hand to Dabi.

“Right back at you.” Dabi replied, tentatively feeling his face. None of the staples had popped. Just bleeding. He took Hawks’ hand, letting the hero pull him to his feet while a feather scooped up his coat and offered it to him like one of those gentlemen in the movies Toga’ watched. He shot Hawks a warning look, which the hero ignored.

He watched as Hawks gathered up everything, shoving the trash in one of the store bags and the rest of it in the backpack, which was then held out to him.

Shit, Dabi wasn’t going to say no to free medical supplies.

“Alright, well. I’ll leave you be. Meeting still on Thursday?” Hawks asked, shooting Dabi a quizzical look. “Dabi?”

Dabi wasn’t listening. Not really. He was too busy being frozen in place, eyes locked on Hawks’ bare wrist, at the small diamond that almost looked like a freckle. Hawks followed his gaze down.

“Fuck.” The hero hissed, dropping the backpack.

“HAWKS.” Dabi shouted, chasing after the hero. How Hawks was able to move so fast was beyond him, considering how much pain Dabi was in as he tried to get his muscles to stretch enough to give chase. Hawks glanced at him over a shoulder before taking a leap off the building, wings catching him.

Dabi watched as Hawks flew off, his nose throbbing with pain as he realized it wasn’t his own.

#bnha fic #bnha #dabihawks fic #dabihawks #my fic

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shinydelirium · 3 years

Text

MLQC Season 2 Chapter 21 (Kiro) Part 1 [Gold Card] & [Subtle Changes] Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

Chapter 21 is relatively short so there won’t be as many parts as I will be combining multiple sections.

Without further ado, enjoy reading!

[Gold Card]

I sat up on the bed in a daze and stared at the cardboard boxes piled up on the ground.

The sunlight fell on them, making the dust in the air visible.

Two days have passed since I moved here. Apart from tidying up the bed and taking out some basic necessities, the rest of the belongings are still in the same state as I left them after I moved.

I couldn’t help taking a deep breath, trying to get that indifferent face out of my mind.

MC: MC, get yourself together. You still have a lot to do.

Endless fatigue wrapped me in its silent vortex. I struggled hard to prevent myself from being swallowed by those negative black mists.

I splashed cold water on my cheeks, turning my head constantly, thinking about the message Zehn left me during my absence.

Zehn: “Boss, you asked me to investigate the Evolver who was taken away from the Wish Club, but I haven’t found anything for the time being.”

Zehn: “However, I found a place called Wish Hotel.”

Zehn: “It also has financial support from the charity foundation. I don’t know if there will be any connections.”

I wiped my face clean with a towel and walked out of the bathroom. I took out the card I received at the Wish Club from my backpack and later returned by Lucien—

“Wish Hotel”—dedicated to only serving Evolvers.

There is probably no such coincidence in the world.

My eyes wandered to the phone number at the bottom right, and after giving it some thought, I grabbed my bag and walked out the door.

The feeling of autumn is getting stronger and the cool wind blows over me making me tighten the hem of my clothes.

These few days I’ve been constantly thinking.

The world seems to be swept by a torrent. Anything at this moment has the possibility of being magnified. It may be the fuse that makes the world move into a different future.

And I’m so small and insignificant in comparison.

What I see and what I believe seems to be particularly vague as the world moves forward.

But I always believed that this new journey and the memories I carry has a purpose.

“Remember to get back what you lost.”

That strange and distant voice still echoes in my ears from time to time.

If CORE is the key to this world, then I must find it.

In this search and competition about CORE, I must learn more.

I walked into an unmanned telephone booth, inserted some coins, and dialed the number on the card.

Electronic voice: Hello, thank you for calling Wish Hotel.

MC: ….Hello, I want to check in.

Electronic voice: Thanks for calling, bye.

Hearing the beep from the receiver, I was stunned.

I dialed again and the result is still the same.

MC: It said “thank you for calling Wish Hotel” so it should be correct…

I looked front and back of the small card in my hand, searching for important information points that I had overlooked.

Except for the name, number, and the slogan “Only for Evolvers”, there is no other information on the card.

MC: Is there a hidden secret code that needs a kind of UV light to see it?

I held up the card against the light but still unable to see anything. I couldn’t help but frown at the slogan.

MC: Maybe it needs special keywords?

Thinking about this, I tentatively dialed the number again.

Electronic voice: Hello, thank you for calling Wish Hotel.

MC: I’m an Evolver and I want to check in!

After the dead silence, I heard a “beep” along with faint white noise—

Electronic voice: Wish Hotel will serve you wholeheartedly.

Success!

Electronic voice: Dear guest, hello.

Electronic voice: Please press 1 for “Wish Hotel”, press 2 for related services, press 3 for check-in, or press 0 for manual service.

***If you choose 1***

Electronic voice: Wish Hotel is a high-end hotel dedicated to Evolvers.

Electronic voice: Here, you can not only enjoy our service in peace, but also store Evol for free.

Electronic voice: Whether you want to try an unprecedented experience or relive the life of ordinary people, we will do our best to serve you.

***If you choose 2***

Electronic voice: Free storage of Evol is the most distinctive service of Wish Hotel.

Electronic voice: This service has no side effects. It is safe, fast, and effective.

Electronic voice: There is no limit for storage time.

Electronic voice: You are always welcome to experience it.

***If you choose 3***

Electronic voice: Please provide your name and contact address after the “di” sound and we will arrange a special car for pick-up.

Taking into account the necessary identification for the hotel to stay-in and on the premise that a perfect fake identity cannot be forged in a short time, I reported my name in order to avoid drawing suspicion.

Then I looked at the street sign at the road junction and said the name of the street.

Electronic voice: The information has been entered.

Electronic voice: Dear [MC], we will send a special car to arrive at [Fortune. Fu-Lu-2-2-2] in 30 minutes. We will contact you by phone at that time.

Electronic voice: Thank you for your call. Wish Hotel will serve you wholeheartedly.

Thirty minutes later, a black luxury car smoothly drove up in my peripheral vision.

The back seat door stopped precisely in front of me and slowly opened. At the same time, I heard a faint “dripping” sound.

??: Greetings, Miss MC.

I followed the sound. The driver’s seat was completely blocked off and the driver’s appearance was not visible.

I took a deep breath, got into the car, and found an inconspicuous instrument hidden in the corner facing the car door.

It looks exactly like a camera and seemed very familiar—

It’s almost exactly the same as the Evol detector I got from the black fan who exposed Kiro’s Evolver identity and framed him for hurting others.

My heart tightened and I looked carefully towards the driver’s seat.

It’s not surprising that there are detectors here. After all, they claim to be only for Evolvers.

But what does this extremely similar device doing here mean?

The car was very quiet and I looked out through the car window.

Perhaps this Wish Hotel can bring me more information than I imagined.

I don’t know how long it took. The car drove into a garden-like iron gate.

Along the flowery path, through the secret and prosperous bushes, a small and exquisite dark wood building gradually appeared in front of me.

After the car came to a slow stop, I walked towards the gate.

The wind chime on the door rang and someone happened to walk out carrying a suitcase and passed right by me.

The person didn’t seem like anyone special and I was shocked by the scene in front of me as I stepped through the door—

The hotel is much bigger than it looks on the surface and the ceiling is indiscernible. I could estimate it to be at least twenty or thirty stories high.

MC: Did this building look that high from the outside…?

As I mumbled, I looked around. Guests in twos and threes were sitting in the lobby just like in an ordinary hotel lobby.

The waiter on the side came over and greeted me.

Waiter: Hello, please come with me to check-in.

The check-in procedure is simpler than expected. After filling in the basic information, I got my room key.

Waiter: The fifth floor is the restaurant, the 16th floor is the fitness area, and the 18th floor is the beverage bar.

Waiter: The top floor of the 23rd floor is the office area which is not open to the public. There are no restrictions for the rest of the public areas so you can go freely according to your needs.

After nodding and thanking him, I walked into the elevator and looked at the 23rd floor in deep thought.

Acting now would be a bit conspicuous so I’ll wait till nightfall.

The room is no different from any other hotel room. I walked around in the public area again. Apart from confirming that it’s a very luxurious hotel, I didn’t gain anything new.

MC: Is this really an ordinary hotel…?

In doubt, the sky finally ushered in the night.

Taking advantage of the shift time, I walked from the fire exit to the 23rd floor and gently opened the door.

The corridor was dim and there was no sign of movement.

I lowered my body and as I was about to step forward, a fierce force grabbed my waist.

Almost instinctively, I took out the anesthesia gun and lifted my leg backwards to kick—

Only that person is more powerful and faster than me.

His hand went around my neck and bound my wrists tightly. His right leg lifted slightly. He quickly and dexterously pinned my legs. His warm breath brushed over my ears.

??: Stop messing around.

[Subtle Changes]

The voice is very soft and close to my ear like the faint moonlight in the night.

My movements are frozen in place. I felt the temperature near my back slowly seeping through the placket of my clothes.

Only quiet breathing remained in the air.

Meanwhile, two or three waiters walked into the room at the end of the corridor.

??: There is nothing you want here.

??: Follow me.

With that said, the hand that was holding me slowly loosened, but in the next second, he took my hand and walked towards the door of a warehouse.

Although I was puzzled, I still followed behind that dark figure without question.

He seemed to be familiar with the place as if he had been here for a long time.

We entered the equipment room from the back door of the warehouse and from the side door of the equipment room to the garbage sorting office in the corridor, he pressed the freight elevator button on the side.

The waiting time is long and quiet. I lowered my head subtly and secretly looked at our held palms.

We haven’t seen each other since we separated on the bridge last time.

Except for the “I’m safe, don’t worry” message from a strange phone number, I didn’t receive any news about him.

I faintly felt that it was probably from Helios, but I still couldn’t dial his number.

So I had to wipe away the worries in my heart, silently thinking about our agreement.

He promised me that he would come back safely so he would definitely be able to do it.

Only when I saw him again, my heart still surged uncontrollably.

He didn’t seem to be injured.

Following the position of my hand, my gaze secretly moved upwards until I met a gaze that seemed to have been waiting for me there.

In the dim light, Helios’ eyes were bright.

I didn’t know what to say for a while. Too many words stuck in my throat making me subconsciously want to rub my fingertips but I squeezed his hand tightly.

Helios pursed the corners of his lips. His eyes dimmed.

The elevator door opened slowly and we walked out in silence, pushed open an iron gate and came to an open-air staircase.

Helios: It’s okay to talk now.

The soft dusk startled me and I blinked my eyes vigorously, thinking it was an illusion.

I heard a chuckle coming from the side, and Helios raised his mouth slightly, leaning his back against the railing, looking at me gently.

In this impermanent landscape, the soft and warm yellow sunlight washed over his body. The light breeze blew his hair, exposing the small instruments in his ears.

His distinct silver hair seemed to be immersed in the clouds behind him, glowing with golden light and making feel like I was in a trance.

Not so soft, but not so far away.

Helios: Don’t keep looking at me like at.

In the gaze that I kept staring at, Helios seemed to be uncomfortable, pressing the corners of his mouth hard and turning his head to the side.

MC: I, I just wanted to make sure whether your injury has fully recovered.

I pursed my lips and tried not to let my myself be too happy.

This person who has always kept himself in his shell now seems to be slowly exploring his own way to show his true self to me.

Somewhat rough and very clumsy.

Helios: I have not forgotten the agreement with you.

MC: …I know.

He turned his head back to me when I said that.

MC: “I’m safe, don’t worry.” You sent this text message, right?

MC: But I think if you were actually safe, you would appear in front of me.

He lowered his eyes, seeming to be tacitly acquiescing.

Quietly, I took a step towards Helios.

MC: Aren’t you going to call me Narcissus this time?

Helios was stunned. Seeing me tilt my head with a smile at him, he seemed to pause for a moment. The burning red color of the clouds behind him sneaked onto the tips of his ears.

Helios: Are you vengeful?

MC: A little bit.

Helios: Then save it for later.

He stretched out his index finger and lightly tapped my forehead and turned the conversation back to the topic at hand.

Helios: Before explaining why you’re here.

Helios: Do you have anything to ask?

MC: ….Are your ears okay?

I watched him as I asked this question that was constantly occupying my heart, causing his pupils to shrink unconsciously.

Helios: I don’t know how to answer your question.

His hand touched the instrument in his ear. Fragmented light fell on us wildly with the wind.

Helios: But…I can hear your voice.

Helios: As for the rest, don’t ask.

MC: Okay.

Even though he was reluctant, he did not evade this question either.

Faced with such an answer, I feel happy from the bottom of my heart.

MC: So what happened after you went to the lighthouse with Joker last time? Why are you here?

MC: What’s going on with this hotel? It’s obviously nighttime so why did it become dusk again?

Helios: ….

I fired off my questions at him one after the other. Helios frowned and finally sighed.

Helios: Nothing happened.

Helios: Joker trapped me here.

Helios: This hotel only looks normal.

Helios: It’s dusk here because there is a problem.

Helios responded to my question word for word but it drew even more questions from me.

MC: Ho-hold a minute. Let’s take it one at a time.

MC: You said you were trapped here by Joker. Does that mean you can’t leave?

Helios: There are ways, but I don’t want to cause any trouble for the time being.

Helios: There are also things I want to investigate here.

MC: But how can this hotel have anything to do with Joker?

Hearing my question, Helios frowned slightly.

Helios: What do you mean?

MC: I thought this hotel was only related to the Wish Club.

I briefly explained the existence of the Wish Club and those who were taken away from there.

MC: Both of these places seem to have received investment from the Fulcrum Charity Foundation. I met the founder of this foundation some time ago.

MC: He seems to have benefited from an organization called GRAY RHINO and he’s doing things for them.

MC: But is it also related to Joker?

Helios: Who is this founder?

MC: He’s an ordinary man in his forties using a wheelchair and his name is Du Wen.

Helios’ eyes lowered as if he had figured it out and raised a slightly prickly smile.

Helios: A foundation that only serves ordinary people but why invest in a place that serves Evolvers?

MC: ….Right!

Hearing what he said, I came to a subtle conclusion of what I have been feeling.

Helios: Remember, be careful of that Du Wen.

Helios: As for your question about this hotel….

While talking, he took my hand again.

Helios: Explaining is too troublesome. I’ll show you directly.

[End of Part 1]

-Continue to Part 2-

#spoilers #mlqc #mlqc spoilers #mlqc season 2 #mlqc season 2 spoilers #translations #mlqc translations #mlqc season 2 translations #kiro #kiro spoilers #helios #helios spoilers #love and producer #koi to producer #mr love queen's choice #mr love dream date #mldd #mr love game

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bookstantrash · 4 years

Text

A/N: Special shoutout for @perseusannabeth @thewayshedreamed and @arin1030 for blessing my year with their amazing one shots/multi chapter updates even though 2021 has barely began. Your beautiful writing made me take a break from frying my brain with studying.

So here it’s, Part Six. Enjoy!

In which she makes a friend, Part Six

“Arms up. Feet apart” Nesta followed his instruction, getting in position “I want you to focus all your power in your fists. Redirect the flow to them.”

It was not Cassian’s voice who Nesta heard. No, it was the voice of the Lord of Bloodshed. Of the Commander of the Illyrian Armies.

They had been trying for an hour, maybe two. Today was the second time in the week since they’d first started training together that Cassian was trying to teach Nesta how to maintain a constant flow of her powers. To not let her spend herself with one killing blow like she had done with Hybern.

It was hard. It was impossible.

Nesta had no ideia of what she was doing. She couldn’t tame the beast inside her to behave and do what she wanted to. She felt stupid while silently willing her fists to gather that blinding light she had fired at Hybern or even the silver flames that appeared when she lost control.

Nothing had happened in two days.

Not to mention she also had to think about her fighting stance, balance, Cassian counting out loud while she punched, all the while keeping her grip on her power.

And she had not been able to confront Cassian about the troubles at camp that he was keeping from her. That only made her more annoyed and restless.

“Focus Nesta” Nesta snapped back to attention at his words “Your figure is excellent but your mind is far away. If you get distracted on the battlefield you can get hurt. Or worse, killed”

“I am paying attention. If you could only be more precise about what exactly I’m supposed to be doing—”

Cassian laughed, which only served to ignite that fire that seemed to roar whenever they were in the same room.

“My powers are totally different from yours sweetheart. You have an enormous amount of it too, from the little I’ve seen” his hazel eyes scanned her, as if he could see beneath her skin and pinpoint where her power resided inside of her “But you lack control”

“Aren’t you supposed to be some legendary warrior? With seven siphons and all that” she spat back, wanting to jab him at his poor job at teaching her, but she only earned a feline smile back.

“Have you been paying attention to me Nes? I’m flattered” he placed a hand on his chest, feigning surprise.

Nesta gritted her teeth. Most of the time, she didn’t know whether to throttle him or kiss him. Sometimes both.

“Whatever you’re doing right now sweetheart, keep it up” Cassian said, amazement lacing his words.

Nesta raised her fists, which had fallen beside her body during her spat with Cassian, and she realised that she had done it. The silver flames that sometimes appeared were dancing along her hands, turning the air around them hot, although they did not burn her.

Nesta allowed herself to feel proud. She had done it. She could feel her power flowing all through her body down to her hands.

Raising her fists, Nesta got into position like Cassian had taught her.

And she punched him.

Cassian allowed her flaming fist to get dangerously close to his face before he dodged it, sidestepping. She aimed again. And again. Until they were dancing a dangerous dance, Cassian blocking and avoiding her fists, while Nesta concentrated in keeping the flames alive and remembering the correct steps.

She thought she had finally caught him, feigning a punch towards his face while actually aiming at his gut — a move Cassian had recently showed her — when he took her arm in an arm lock, pulling her body flush towards his.

“That was good” he breathless said, so close Nesta could see the green in his eyes “But you still are too slow in the transition. And you look at where you want to hit me. That’s what gave you away”

Nesta opened her mouth the retort, but no sound came out. She got conscious of how close they were. Of how Cassian didn’t seem bothered by her flaming fists.

She didn’t know whether she was feeling hot due to the exercise, the flames or the proximity with him.

“You are always surprising me, you know that?” Cassian murmured, his breath sending chills down her spine.

She was burning. She couldn’t breath or think, her thoughts running fast and incoherently around her head. She could only look at him.

She wanted to pull him closer.

She wanted to push him away.

She wanted to kiss him.

She wanted to scream at him for making her feel this way.

Nesta wanted and wanted and felt everything too deeply. His body against hers. His breath, mingling with hers. His grip on her army getting loose. His deep hazel eyes like molten chocolate, his pupils dilating and his gaze flicking from her eyes to her mouth and—

A bird’s cry shook Nesta out of her trance, and she quickly put some distance between her and Cassian, her flames flicking out.

Dangerous. It was dangerous to allow herself to get close to him. To let him slip between the bars in which she caged her heart.

“I think that’s enough for today” Cassian said, nervously clearing his throat “You— Are you going to train with me and Kaelin today?”

Nesta trained with Cassian everyday in the mornings, Kaelin joining then in the afternoons after her own training was done. Cassian had proposed to Nesta that she practice in the afternoon only three times a week for now. He said it was best not to demand so much of her body in the beginning.

But he always asked her if she would join then or not. Even if it was the day all three of them were supposed to train together.

“I’m fine” Nesta managed to say, grateful that her voice did not give away how she was feeling “I’ll be here”

Cassian only nodded, his eyes looking everywhere but at her. If Nesta didn’t know any better, she’d think he was just as shaken as her.

“Azriel...Azriel is coming to Windhaven tomorrow” Cassian blurted out, before Nesta could excuse herself.

Nesta only raised an eyebrow in question, as if to say ‘go on, I’m listening’

“He’s going to stay here four days, maybe a week. We have some... some matters to discuss”

“Matters about the Illyrians rebelling?” she asked, taking him by surprise.

“How—”

“Just because you tell me nothing it does not means nobody else does” she snapped.

“It has nothing to do with you” he snarled and Nesta raised her chin in defiance.

“I think it does if I live here now”

“I didn’t want you here”

Nesta felt as if she had been punched in the gut. She felt that spark that had been slowly coming back to life vanish, turning into cinders.

As if it never was there.

“Wait, I— I didn’t mean it like that” Cassian desperately said, seeing the change in her mood.

“Of course you did” she snorted “I’m no more of a burden to you than I was to my sister. I understand”

“No, Nesta it’s not that” he ran his hand through his hair, freeing it from the bun that held it “Please believe me”

Nesta only remained quiet, eyeing him. Trying to decide if he spoke the truth or was pitying her.

“You have suffered enough. You have given enough. You don’t need the weight of another war on your shoulders. I—” he took a sharp breath “I cannot bear to see you go through it all again. I thought it was best for you to not know about it”

“It was not your decision to make!” she spat at him “You should have thought about that before banishing me here!”

“I told Feyre this was a stupid ideia! But she was desperate!! She blames herself for all the dangers you and Elain went through and she had no ideia what to do!!”

They were both screaming now, each one louder then the other.

“Sending you to the human side was off limits given the human queens! The other courts are civil at best with the Night Court! And I doubt you would want to be sent to another court were you knew no one and they were all wary of you” he laughed in disbelief “At least here I could— you would know someone”

“It was not her decision to make” Nesta said, her powers raging inside of her, all control from a few moments ago gone.

“I know that. I can—” he shook his head, trying to find the right words “I can try to call in a few favours. Maybe Helion...the Day Court is beautiful and his library even more spectacular. Or Dawn. They’re neutral ground and you seemed to like the last time we were there. For sure not Winter. I think you’ve had enough of this dreadful weather”

Cassian started to mumble to himself, trying to come up with a solution.

“Would not your High Lady need to approve it?” poison filled Nesta’s word, angry of how she had been banished by her youngest sister before “Don’t you report back to her about me?”

“She only asks how you are doing. If you’re eating. If you came out of your room. And I don’t say nothing else besides it. Feyre worries. She feels guilty of what she did” his eyes meet hers “She would not have to know. You could go, and I would only say that you were well when she asked. You don’t need to stay here Nesta. I won’t be your jailer. I have already failed you enough”

And Nesta knew — be it due to the raw emotion in Cassian’s voice, the way he looked so distraught, his hazel eyes pleading at her — she knew he was telling the truth. That he would get her out of Illyria. Would let her have her way.

She was tempted to say yes.

To say yes and run far far away from the eyes that seemed to judge and burn and condemn her, all the way from Velaris.

But then she thought of Kaelin. She thought of all the healers, the females and children at camp.

If a civil war was to break out, who would defend them? Who would make sure they’d not be in the middle of the cross fire? Who would make sure Kaelin was not found out?

And Nesta made her decision.

“I will stay” she declared, making Cassian look at her in surprise.

“But I have a condition” she added “You will not hide anything else from me. You will tell me what’s happening here. What’s happening with the queens. With the other courts. I won’t stay in the dark any longer.”

“I promise you Nesta Archeron,” he said, his voice full of emotion “I will tell you even the Mother’ secrets if you want to”

~•~

Nesta spent the rest of the day lost in thought. Her conversation with Cassian — or screaming match to put it more truthfully — had opened some old wounds. Wounds she had thought to be already closed.

How foolish had she been.

Her quietness did not go unnoticed. Jacira was more talkative than usual, trying to cheer Nesta up and make her come out of her shell by any means, not caring if Esmée reprimanded her. But even the head healer took notice of Nesta’s mood.

“We don’t have much work today. You can deliver this tonic for me and then retire for the day” Esmée had said, a tad softer than usual “Now shoo! This won’t be delivered if you stay here looking at me”

And so Nesta found herself standing in the small craftsman center of the camp, walking towards a wooden building, its glass window identifying it as a clothier. The bell above the leaded-glass door tinkled as Nesta entered, warning of her presence.

“The shop is closed” a sharp voice said “Come back later”

Nesta looked at the female behind the polished counter. She had dark hair, which was braided in a style similar to the one Nesta favoured, offering a clean view of her sharp brown eyes. She wore a simple green dress, and Nesta noticed the female’s wings. The scars on them.

“I didn’t come to buy anything” Nesta walked towards the counter, placing down the package containing the small vial “I came to deliver this. I take you ordered this from Esmée?”

The female nodded, taking the package.

“So you’re the High Fae who’s working alongside the healers now” Emerie scanned Nesta, eyeing her pointed ears.

“What of it” she replied, straightening her spine, a mask of cold boredom on her face.

“Nothing” Emerie raised her chin, her posture matching Nesta’s “No wonder you decided to help them. They’re nice, and even Esmée’s presence is more pleasant than staying all day alone”

Nesta tried to calm down the fire inside of her, raging at the implication. She didn’t need her powers getting out of control here, destroying the store and hurting the female.

“Males are such emotionless creatures, don’t you agree? ” she added, waiting for a reaction back “I hope you gave the Commander hell for leaving you by yourself like that”

“He’s not— we’re not a couple” was Nesta’s only reply.

Emerie intrigued her. She was not like the other females Nesta had meet. She could recognise the fire inside of her, meeting Nesta’s gaze without fear.

She reminded Nesta of how she had once been. Before the war. Before she was Made.

“You aren’t?” Emerie raised an eyebrow, shrugging “Either way, I for one know I wouldn’t leave a guest unattended for such period.”

Nesta was excused from answering when the door opened, a familiar voice greeting them.

“Emerie, I finished with my deliveries, is there anything else I—” Kaelin stopped mid sentence, seeing the scene before her eyes.

“Kaelin, what are you doing here?” Nesta asked, surprised to see the girl.

“I do deliveries for Emerie sometimes. To the families who live too far or are too poor” the young girl stretched her wings a bit, shaking off the cold “Esmée let you go earlier today”

“She asked me to deliver something and call it a day” she inclined her head towards Emerie.

“Well, it’s a good thing then! You can stay for tea with me and Emerie!”

Nesta felt her cheeks redden.

“Kaelin, you can’t just invite me to someone else’s house!” she hissed, shocked at Kaelin’s boldness, her old manners classes coming to mind.

“I’m not bothered” Emerie said, coming from behind the counter “I can have some kind of courtesy towards those who I want to”

Kaelin grinned and opened a side door with a staircase — which lead to Emerie’s home in the upper floor of the shop — already moving up.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to” Emerie added, seeing Nesta hesitate “Kaelin tends to act before he thinks. But I know he’s a good kid, so I won’t be offended if you choose to go back to your General’s home”

Nesta thought about saying how Cassian was not her General. How his home was not hers. How she had a thousand thoughts screaming in her mind. How her powers were singing beneath her veins and how afraid she was of losing control.

But she was even more curious about Emerie, a female who did not bow like the others, the sole owner of a shop in such a place as Illyria.

“I hope you have biscuits” she choose to say instead, feeling hungry for the first time in long while, the thought of eating not scaring her in the least.

•

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#sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm fanfic #nessian #cassian x nesta #nesta archeron #cassian

108 notes · View notes

baepsaesbae · 4 years

Text

Since Day One

Pairing— Park Jimin x female reader

Genre— college au, friends to lovers au, smut, FLUFF (this is so soft)

Warnings— oral (fem and male receiving), sex in general but nothing crazy, Jimin being a mushy baby oof my heart melted

Word Count— ~5.1k

Summary— You’re best friends with the sweetest guy on Earth, Park Jimin. Of course, you’d be his girlfriend in a heartbeat if he asked. If only...

Your love life has been fruitless since...well since you were born. There’s been the occasional fling here and there, but you cut it off as soon as you realized they were only after sex and nothing more. You yearn for something meaningful with just about anyone now. If a cute boy is somewhat nice to you for even a second, you catch yourself fantasizing about going on a honeymoon with him. You were lost in your thoughts until a familiar voice brought you back to reality.

“Hello? ___? Is anyone home? Oh wow look at that super cute dog--”

“Where?” you crane your neck to look out the cafe window in hopes of spotting the dog.

“There is no dog. I just needed your attention. What do you think of this layout for the presentation?” Jimin asked.

Park Jimin has been your best friend since day one. Literally. Both your moms were best friends, so it was inevitable that you guys would be besties too. You guys attend the same University now, and even though your majors were different, you managed to get into the same mandatory elective.

“Yeah, that looks fine. Sorry, you know I don’t really care for what old white dudes had to say about, well, literally anything,” you reply.

“Neither do I. But the ancient Greeks had a lot to say about the birth of philosophy so here we are. Also if you can’t pay attention to our project, at least pay attention to me!” Jimin pouted.

Jimin has always been a needy baby, but only when it comes to you for some reason. Jimin has been a heartthrob since elementary school and proceeded to become class president starting in middle school. He won every year in a row (thanks to all the girls voting for him). Even though he won because of his popularity, he was still an extremely hardworking student. He made sure the council’s ideas were all heard and worked his hardest to implement whatever project they wanted that year. You admired-- and albeit were a little jealous-- of how perfect Jimin was. During high school, you realized you might have had a crush on him, but you quickly nipped that in the bud. Having a crush on your best friend? You couldn’t risk your friendship like that, it meant too much to you.

With that said, Jimin had always looked up to you as well. He loved the way you always spoke your mind, a trait that often got you in trouble in school. He loved the way you would apply yourself to something you’re passionate about and was delighted when you announced that you would be going to pursue your passion in art. Luckily for him, you both ended up at the same University. Jimin also loved that he knew the real you. Other people would probably say that you’re “cool” but have a cold demeanor, but he knew better. He knew that you were a huge sappy hopeless romantic, but would never tell anyone that. Anyone other than him of course.

“Yeah yeah okay you big baby. You want me to hold your hand too?” you teased, looking over the presentation one last time.

“Actually, yes I do,” Jimin smiled innocently as he plopped his hand onto the table. You rolled your eyes and took his hand anyway. He always does this. You always chalk it up to Jimin just being an affectionate guy, but what you don’t realize is that he’ll look for any excuse to be with you. He’ll do anything to be yours, but you’re too oblivious to all his tactics. Had you known that he had a crush on you, you would’ve pounced on him on the spot. But for now, you’re more than happy to call him your best friend.

“Well, I just turned it in for us. Congrats, now you have the rest of your weekend free from philosophy hell! Have any plans?” you ask.

“Not yet. But we can make plans! You wanna watch a movie at my place? We can order in and celebrate by being lazy! My roommates are gone for the weekend so we can do whatever we want. You kind of have to say yes because I already got a surprise for you,” Jimin smiled deviously.

“Oh yeah? Guess we do have plans then, I’m in. What’s the surprise?” you cock your head.

“I can’t tell you because it’s a surprise, dummy. Let me go back first to clean up a little, I don’t want you to think I’m living in a pigsty,” Jimin starts packing up his stuff.

“I’ve been over there plenty of times, I already know that you’re living in a pigsty,” you tease. Jimin gives you an overexaggerated shocked face.

“Well, then you should know that all that mess is made by my roommates. Not me. Just appreciate the fact that I care about you enough to clean up for you,” Jimin sasses.

“You care for me? How sweet! I never would have known. I’ll go back to my place and take a quick shower. I’ll text you when I’m heading over,” you shoot him a smile as you turn to walk back to your apartment.

“Sounds good! Actually, call me when you’re ready, and I’ll come pick you up,” Jimin stated.

“What? No, you don’t have to--”

“I insist!”

“I’ve walked to your place countless times. It’s fine I can--”

“I wanna come pick you up!” Jimin whines. You give in. There’s no use in arguing with him when he’s like this.

“Okay fine! See you later, weirdo,” you laugh. You wave and head back to your apartment.

Back at your apartment, you slip into the shower and crank the temperature to the sweet spot between a soothing flow of hot water and scalding your skin. The shower has always been your safe space where your thoughts could float from one cloud to the next without the fear of judgment by anyone. You wonder what Jimin could possibly have brewed up this time. He was never the type to surprise anyone, so you are puzzled as to what spurred up this novel side of Jimin. Even though your thoughts beg you to stay in the shower just a bit longer, you force yourself out and quickly pat down your body.

Although you had long since snipped the feelings you had for Jimin, the small bud still had its roots somewhere deep inside of you. You realize this as your heart sputters erratically with the thought of being surprised by Jimin. Looking in the mirror, you see your face has taken on an unfamiliar glow and excitement. It’s just platonic, you remind yourself, but the flush in your face betrayed what your mind was saying.

With your towel wrapped around you, you scan your closet for something to wear. You remind yourself that it wasn’t that serious because it was Jimin. Your day one. Your supposed “brother” figure. Just one of the guys, you remind yourself. So after a few minutes of deliberation, you decide on a t-shirt and jeans (typical). However, before you walk out the door you slip on the bracelet that Jimin had made you back in elementary school.

It was weathered now, the letters on the beads were losing their colors, but it fits onto your wrist with a familiarity that calmed you. You call Jimin, as he insisted that you should, and when he picks up any nervousness that you had felt in the shower is mellowed by the familiarity of his voice.

“___! You ready for me to come over and pick you up?” Jimin’s voice is sprightly, as if the only thing containing him from bursting was a thin film of cellophane. You smile, wondering why you ever doubted in the first place.

“Yup!” you answer, “But I’m not patient, so hurry up!”

Jimin’s car pulled up to your apartment complex promptly five minutes after you had called him, and you feel your heart do a small jig again as you still haven’t got a single clue as to what surprise he had in store for you. You slip into the passenger seat as you had done countless times before, but this time...this time felt different. Not off, just...different.

The drive to Jimin’s place wasn’t long, but for some reason, the minutes seemed to drag on for what felt like an eternity. As Jimin’s car neared the familiar facade of his apartment complex, you felt the excitement build up in your chest. Jimin parks the car and promptly makes his way to your side before you can even get your seatbelt all the way off.

“I can’t wait for you to see what I have planned for you,” his usual charm is cranked up all the way, and you blush but you try to push that softness into the platonic zone.

“If it isn’t a good surprise, you’re legally obligated to pay for the pizza tonight,” you teased him lightly. Knowing Jimin and his characteristic ways of getting everyone to like him you knew that he wasn’t one to disappoint.

Jimin dramatically wiped invisible tears from his eyes, “You do not have enough faith in me, ___.” He extended his hand expectantly, and although you were caught off guard, you quickly accept his outstretched hand. Just friends, remember? As he helps you out of his car, you feel the blush bloom into what you were horrified was reminiscent of a cherry tomato. You hope your hand wasn’t clammy, but you try to remind yourself that he’s seen the worst of you since you were a child. He can handle some sweaty palms.

After making your way to the door, Jimin steps in front of you with both of his hands up, “Hold on. You have to close your eyes.”

“Jimin,” you roll your eyes, but he made his signature puppy face that had a 100% success rate of making you yield to him. You chuckled breathily, but comply, “Alright, dummy.”

You hear the sound of the rickety wooden door open and try to overcome the urge to peek. To your surprise, Jimin’s hands are on your shoulders, and you can feel his breath on your neck. It sends your heart into another race, and you hope that he doesn’t hear the pounding in your chest. Jimin guides you into his apartment, cautious to not let you bump into anything. Finally, he stops, and his hands leave your shoulders.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now!”

When you do, your eyes are somewhat overwhelmed. His living room is decorated with little fairy lights, and little glow in the dark stars speckled his usually plain white walls. The best part, though, was the tent that was smack dab in the middle of the living room. There were pillows that paved a way towards the humble abode. You hear laughter that sounds like the prettiest of bells, and you realize that it’s coming from you.

“We always wanted to make a hideout with pillows and blankets, but we never really got around to it,” Jimin began to explain, “So I...I just thought you’d like it…”

You pounce onto him with a fierceness that almost sends him backward, “Oh Jimin, I love it so much!” His arms, though initially surprised from your attack, hug you back in a warm, familiar embrace. Without warning, you feel his lips press into the side of your face, and you freeze up for a minute. The tenderness of his kiss makes you melt, and before long you thaw up and don’t even bother to break the embrace.

“___, I have something to tell you,” Jimin whispers, his voice muffled as he snuggles his face into your hair. If your heart was racing before, now it was beating absolutely manically, but you don’t move. Could it be?

You return the affection by snuggling back into him, your heart pounding so hard you’re almost certain he could hear it, “Yes Jiminie?”

“I couldn’t choose between Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. I know you love both so I figured you can choose,” he giggled into your ear. You feel your heart deflate, but were quick to cast the disappointment aside.

“Can we pick a Studio Ghibli movie instead? I feel like that would fit the vibe better,” you hear your voice waver. You hoped Jimin didn’t notice it.

“We can absolutely do that! Great choice. Mmm, you wanna watch Spirited Away? I know that’s your favorite,” Jimin pulls away from you to venture over to his DVD collection.

You nod your head and give him a warm smile. You admonish yourself for getting your hopes up. Jimin is your best friend. He’s also such a sweetheart. Of course he would do this for his best friend. His day one bud.

Jimin puts on the movie and crawled into the tent. He wiggled his butt at you to make you laugh before turning around and gesturing for you to join him.

“Wait! Can you bring some pillows pleaaaase? I thought they’d help tie everything together as a walkway--which they totally did-- but those are all that I have,” Jimin gave you an innocent smile.

You roll your eyes at him but couldn’t suppress your smile as you launched the pillows at him.

“We can have a pillow fight after the movie! Get your ass in here,” Jimin whined.

“Coming! Wait, do you want me to get snacks first?” you ask.

“You really do not have enough faith in me. Everything we’d ever need is already here! Except for the most important thing. You,” Jimin’s lips curled into a soft smile.

“Alright you big mushball, scoot over,” you crawl in beside him. Your heart skipped a beat when he called you the most important thing, but again, you set it aside. He says these kinds of things all the time, and yet everything feels different tonight.

You sat side by side, huddled together under a shared blanket once the movie started. A wave of nostalgia washed over you as you ate your pizza topped with popcorn. Jimin thought it was gross, but you always argued that it was the most efficient way to eat during movie nights. As Haku and Chihiro made their way into the bathhouse, Jimin leaned closer to you.

“Done eating?” he whispered.

“Yeah, what’s up?” you respond, not taking your eyes off the screen.

“Can we...cuddle?” Jimin asked shyly.

“Are we not cuddling right now?” you say dryly.

“No I mean like... cuddle cuddle. I’m not really comfortable like this,” Jimin said. You look over to him and see him looking at the floor, his cheeks were barely visible in the dim lighting but you could tell they were flushed.

“Sure Jiminie, we can cuddle. How do you want me?” you ask.

Jimin pauses the movie and repositions the pillows. He lays down sideways with the pillows comfortably propping up his head.

“Come be my little spoon, y/n,” he says reaching out to you.

You smile and wiggle back into the tent to join him. You lay beside him, using his arm as your pillow (Jimin is gonna regret that later but he didn’t have the heart to ask you to move). You get as comfortable as you could in front of him, while still leaving a little gap between you two. As you open your mouth to tell him that you’re ready, Jimin wraps an arm around you to pull you into him. You let out a soft gasp as you feel your back rub up against his chest--which was surprisingly firm.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his breath tickling your ear.

“Yeah I’m good, can you see?” you’re relieved that he can’t see you, as your face heated up and was most definitely red.

“Yeah, you’re perfect.”

“What?”

“I mean, this is perfect. This uh position is perfect...I’m comfortable. Unless you’re not. Then I’m not. I mean uh--”

“Okay silly, then play the movie,” you chuckle at how cute he was.

Jimin normally never loses his charm, so hearing him stumble over his words was rare. Jimin gave you a tight squeeze after he hit play, and the two of you remained like that for the remainder of the movie.

After the movie finished, you were nearly asleep in Jimin’s arms. Spirited Away always put you at ease, since you had nothing but happy childhood memories associated with it.

“___~” Jimin softly sang in your ear.

“Whaaaaat~” you sang back.

“Thanks for coming over tonight, even though I gave you no choice,” Jimin said, nuzzling your ear.

“Of course, what are best friends for?” you giggle, he knew your ears were ticklish, “You kicking me out now?”

“Not yet. You know how I said I had something to tell you earlier?”

“Yeah, asking me to choose between Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings?”

“Yeah that. That’s actually not really what I wanted to say. I mean I was going to ask you that because I really couldn’t choose but--”

“Just spit it out, Jimin,” you turn around to face him, his face just a few inches from yours. Jimin sighed and leaned closer to you, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’vebeeninlovewithyouforsolongIcan’thideitanymore,” he blurted out in one breath.

You were shocked. You didn’t know how to react. You couldn’t tell if it was relief, surprise, or excitement that flooded your mind. All you knew was that your heart was soaring. You’ve never experienced such happiness from one sentence before. You pondered all of this in silence before you realized that Jimin was looking at you expectantly. After all, he did lay his heart on the line for you.

“Say that again, but slowly. I wanna make sure I heard you properly,” you chuckle.

“Don’t tease me!”

“I’m not! I’m being serious! You became a rapper all of a sudden and I couldn’t fully understand you,” this time it was you giving Jimin puppy dog eyes.

“I said, I’ve been in love with you for so long I can’t hide it anymore. My roommates asked about us the other day, and I told them we were best friends. They all made fun of me, saying that everyone always thought we were a couple. They made me realize that I actually was, and have been, so madly in love with you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. It actually feels amazing to finally get that off my chest,” Jimin shyly looked away.

You cupped his face and responded, “Of course I feel the same way, dummy. All this time I’ve been trying to bury my feelings because I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship. I love you too, Jimin,” you lean in slowly and kissed him tenderly.

You’ve always imagined his lips to be soft and supple. You were 100% correct. You pull away and smile against his mouth before he pulls you back in. This time, the kiss is needier, as if to make up for all the years you guys could’ve been doing this sooner. Jimin rolls on top of you, assuming a dominant position. This time he pulls away.

“Are you sure you want to do this? Our friendship will never be the same,” he locks eyes with yours.

“You’re right. I think our friendship will be even better. As lovers. If you’ll have me,” you rest your arms around his neck.

“Of course, I’ll have you, ___. Let me show you what you’ve been missing out on all these years,” Jimin smirks as your heart beats faster and you rub your thighs together.

He bends over gently to kiss you again, but the sweetness only covers the soft hunger underneath, like a chocolate coated strawberry. Before the kiss can last long he breaks it, and you want to protest but stopped when his lips press into your neck. And then your collar bones. Your breath comes in quick spurts, and every inch of your skin is charged with electricity, like livewire. Jimin seems to hear this because he smirks and nips gently at your earlobe.

His hands gently trace your t-shirt up, and you raise your arms expectantly. He takes your shirt off in one smooth motion, and your eyes meet with his, “Are you doing okay?”

Your voice is breathy, but you manage, “Couldn’t be better.”

He smirks again and leans over you to dot your torso with gentle kisses. Then, his hands are at the waistline of your jeans, and they pause ever so slightly before undoing the button. You silently thank whatever god exists in the sky for choosing today of all days to go for the cute, lacy underwear you had gotten on sale in a lingerie store meant for women who got more action than you.

“Tell me if anything gets uncomfortable, okay?” Jimin looks nervous, and you’ve never seen him lose his composure like this. This novel vulnerability and earnest in his eyes make your chest grow warm with tenderness. You nod fervently, and he laughs into your thighs. The sensation brings warmth between your legs.

His fingers hesitate over the edge of the lacy fabric before he gently tugs your panties down the length of your legs. You can feel the ache, the need for him to lay his hands on you. Jimin kisses the inside of your thighs, murmuring, “I will always love these thighs you always complain about.” His lips linger daintily on your skin, and you try not to squirm or move, as if this moment would evaporate if you made any sudden movements.

Almost instinctively, your hand finds its way to his soft, shiny locks. You have imagined the feeling of his hair running through the space between your fingers, but no imagination could do the real experience justice. He pushes your legs apart, and you almost want to scream in anticipation.

Then his head dips into the aching place between your legs, and you feel yourself gasping in pleasure as his mouth finds its place to where you wanted him most. His tongue slowly glides over your clit, and your back arches, moving your body against his mouth. Your fingers grip his hair as if it is the thread of life, and your breath comes faster and shallower.

He chuckles, and the vibrations of the sound make you ache for him all the more. In your frenzy, you let the words slip from your lips, “More, please.”

His tongue picks up its leisurely pace to a more rhythmic motion, and just when you thought it couldn’t feel better you gasp when you feel his finger push through your entrance. His free hand rested on your torso, a cooling patch to your otherwise hot skin. It was as if you were made only for him, and he was only made for you. The way in which you both moved brought you to a point of madness from the pleasure. As he continued, you felt the pleasure spike, climbing and climbing to its highest point.

But before you could be let off the cliff, Jimin pauses, “What do you want, ___?” His eyes stare at you with its familiar charm because knowing he was the cause of your pleasure brought back the confidence you were used to.

“I want you,” you practically whimper between pants.

He smiles mischievously, and his head and fingers return where they were, working you quickly back up to the peak. This time though, he continues his motions pushing you closer to the edge, until finally, finally you are given your release. Your release courses through your body like a storm, your body almost convulsing with pleasure. His hair is now a rat’s nest from your fingers, and he smiles into your legs continuing. He doesn’t release you until you practically scream from the stimulation, causing waves of pleasure.

Finally, he lets you go from his mouth, and his lips make a pathway up from your crotch all the way back up to your lips. You taste yourself on his lips, and you want to drown in him as his kisses grow hungrier. You finally break the kiss, and look up at him with a boldness that you had never felt before, “I suppose it’s your turn now?”

Jimin’s eyes lit up, “Only if you’re feeling generous.”

Without another word, you took Jimin by surprise as you shifted your weight to flip yourself on top of him. You pause before straddling his waist.

“I don’t think it’s fair that I’m completely naked and you’re not,” you say as you begin to tug at the end of his shirt.

“That can be fixed,” Jimin smiles as he removed his shirt to reveal his abs. You caught your breath. You knew Jimin was fit, but you never realized he looked this good.

You begin to unbutton his pants and attempted to strip them off. They were a lot tighter than you anticipated so you were struggling. Jimin couldn’t help but laugh at how determined you were as you began to aggressively tug at his legs. You tried to give him a sad pouty face, but couldn’t resist in joining his laughter. There you both were. Sitting in a tent in the middle of Jimin’s apartment. One of you completely naked, while the other was getting there with a bit of conflict. And you guys were laughing your asses off. The atmosphere didn’t feel sexy or seductive at all. Instead, you two were completely comfortable and were vibing off of that contentment.

Jimin finally helped you take his pants off, but left his underwear on. You never really understood the expression “pitched tent” in this context until now. Jimin’s raging boner stood high against the restraints of his underwear. You couldn’t help but stare at it for a second before palming it gingerly. As soon as you touched it, Jimin shuddered and let out a sigh.

“Sorry, I’ve just been dreaming about this for a while now. Hope that’s not weird…” Jimin blushes.

“Let’s see if I live up to your expectations,” you look up at him with a wily smile.

You tug at his waistband down, allowing his erection to spring free. You were impressed and a little intimidated at its sheer size. Not wanting to disappoint, you started stroking him slowly from the base all the way to the tip. You watched his face contort with pure bliss as you applied more pressure and used a faster pace.

You couldn’t hold in your lust any further. You teasingly licked the tip of his cock. Jimin whimpered in response. This peaked your intrigue, you never thought you’d hear Jimin like this. Yeah, he could be whiny on a daily basis, but you wouldn’t have imagined it in the bedroom.

With the head of his cock in your mouth, you start to swirl your tongue around it. Jimin starts to whine louder and his hands entangle themselves in your hair. Deciding not to tease him any longer, you experiment to see how much of him you can take. You can’t even get to the base of his dick without gagging. As you bob your head rhythmically up and down, you hand glides over what you can’t fit in your mouth. This seems to be working beautifully for Jimin, as his grip on your hair became more firm and his whines turned into drawn out moans.

“Oh god, ___. You’re better than anything I could’ve ever dreamt of,” Jimin groaned as he pulled you off of him, “If you keep going like that, I’m gonna blow my load way too soon. I still wanna dick you down tonight. If you want to, of course.”

“I would love nothing more. Do you have a condom? I’m not on any birth control,” you say.

“When I said this tent has everything we’d ever need, I wasn’t kidding,” Jimin beamed as he pulled out a condom from under the pizza box.

“What would you have said if I moved the pizza box for some reason?” you asked, giggling.

“I dunno. I just prayed that you wouldn’t. Either way,” Jimin pushed you back beneath him, “I’m glad I put it there. May I have the honors?”

“Go for it dude,” you stick your tongue at him. You loved the way that everything felt so natural with him.

Jimin slips on the condom before aligning himself with your entrance. He leans over to kiss you as he slides in slowly. The stretch caused you to moan into his mouth. Once he bottomed out, he slipped his hands into yours. Gazing into your eyes, he started to buck his hips into yours faster. You started to moan and closed your eyes to fully enjoy the pleasure.

“Keep your eyes on me, ___,” you hear Jimin say, “I want all of your attention on me.”

You open your eyes and smile up at Jimin. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you. Jimin plants kisses along your neck. Your moans become more haggard as you feel a familiar knot coil within you.

“Ji-Jimin I’m close,” you pant.

“Me too, ___,” Jimin responds, his eyebrows furrowed, “Let’s finish together. Can you do that with me, ___?”

You didn’t get the chance to answer. You let out a loud cry as your high overcame you. Feeling your pussy tighten over his cock, Jimin drilled into you even faster. It wasn’t long before Jimin all met his sweet release. With one final thrust, Jimin groaned as came inside of you.

You were both spent. Jimin collapsed beside you, pulling off the condom to inspect it.

“Nice, no breakage!” Jimin cheered as he tied it up. Jimin wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for a big hug.

“Jimin, I’m all sweaty,” you say, trying to wiggle free from his grasp.

“Oh yeah? Well so am I! I’ve been covered in worse than your sweat now anyway,” Jimin nuzzles into your neck.

“Gross! But also true,” you couldn’t help but laugh, “Jimin, you know we can never go back to what we were before, right?”

“Yeah, I know. And why would I want to? We both admitted that we love each other, I don’t see a problem. I love you, ___. I always have. And I’m pretty sure I always will,” Jimin whispers into your neck.

“Same goes for me. I’ve been head over heels for you ever since high school,” you kiss his forehead.

“I’ll do you one better. I’ve been in love with you ever since day one,” Jimin plants a final kiss before you both drift off to sleep in each other’s arms.

#bts smut #jimin smut #jimin fluff #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #bts fluff #bts fanfic #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #bayanihanboost #ksmutclub

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ididntneedanewfandom · 4 years

Text

BakuDeku Winter Week 1 - Reparations

"I'm home."

There's no reply to Katsuki's words. Granted, they were quiet enough that they might have gotten lost under the music playing softly in the living room. It's been a long day and he's too tired to even speak at his usual volume. The 'heroing' part of the day went fine; it's filling out forms afterward that completely fries his brain. He thought he was done with useless paperwork when he graduated from U.A.. No such luck. And to top it all, the unseasonable spring heat has been horrendous. It's helpful for his quirk, sure, but after a point it's just oppressive.

He's late enough that he'd have expected dinner to be waiting for him, or to have received a request from his nerd to pick up takeout on the way home. But there are no yummy smells to greet him--not even burnt ones as sometimes happen--and it looks like if he wants food he'll have to work on that himself. Any other night it'd be fine, but he's tired enough that the prospect isn't all that appealing.

Although...

That deep-seated tiredness seems to melt away when he walks into the living room to find Deku reclining on the couch with his back to the armrest and one of his notebooks propped up on his raised knees. He's wearing that too big, slightly misshapen wool sweater in All Might's costume colors, the one Katsuki always teases him about. How he can bear to wear that warm thing in this weather, Katsuki has no idea.

"Used to be, you'd be all over me when I walked in the door," Katsuki says with a mock-wounded look as he approaches the couch. "I guess the honeymoon phase is over, huh?"

Deku blinks those big eyes up at him a couple of times.

"Oh, hi Kacchan," he says with a small smile. "I didn't hear you come in."

Katsuki snorts. That much was obvious. Climbing over the end of the couch, he crawls up to Deku, pushing his knees apart to settle between them, unceremoniously dropping the notebook and pen he takes from Deku to the floor.

"Hey, wait, I was--"

Katsuki silences what was coming next by pressing his mouth to Deku's. He suddenly feels a lot better, but there's still room for improvement.

He lifts his mouth and body off Deku's just enough that he has room to tug at the sweater to get to the delicious, warm skin beneath.

"Kacchan, please be careful," Deku mumbles.

"Careful about what? You're not as breakable as you used to be."

Even with Deku helpfully lifting his hips to free the bit of sweater stuck under his ass, Katsuki has to work hard to get it off him. It's caught underneath him, but one last tug--

"What... What was that?”

Deku sits up properly now, dislodging Katsuki from his lap even as he reclaims the sweater from him with shaky hands, a steady stream of "No, no, please no" rising from his lips.

"What's gotten into you?" Katsuki asks, frowning.

"It felt like..."

He falls silent as his fingers find the large rip on the back, longer than Katsuki's hand, multiple strands of frayed wool hanging loose. His expression is one of pure grief; Katsuki's stomach twists unpleasantly.

"I asked you to be careful," Deku murmurs, and Katsuki knows that tone of voice. Years ago, it'd have been accompanied by tears. Deku doesn't cry so much anymore... But it doesn't make things any better when he's really upset. He just clams up, and fuck knows what Katsuki can do to fix it when it happens.

"It's just a cheesy old sweater, " he mutters. "I'll get you one from my merch line. Better quality and better colors."

His pointed look dares Deku to protest that--they once spent a very pleasant night arguing about costume colors in between rounds of fucking, and Katsuki wouldn't mind a repeat. But when he crawls back up Deku's body again, when he slides a hand over Deku's ridiculously tight abs, Deku slaps his hand away and shimmies out from under Katsuki until he can stand, still clutching the mangled sweater.

"It was Toshinori's," he says in a cold voice, glaring at Katsuki.

It's so rare to see Deku direct actual anger toward him that Katsuki's old defenses go back up instantly. Stinging words fall from his lips before he even knows he's speaking.

"Stealing from other people's closets? And here I thought you only stole my clothes. I guess I'm not that special, huh?"

Deku's gaze hardens just a little more, and Katsuki almost expects lightning to start coursing over his body. His voice is cold enough that it could put IcyHot's quirk to shame.

"He gave it to me. It was sample merch that never got mass produced because it was handmade and too complicated to bring to market. He kept it because he said it fit him in both his forms. He thought I'd get a kick out of having it in my collection, so when he was cleaning up his things before ... He gave it to me. And you just ruined it when I asked you to be careful. But it's not like you've ever cared about my stuff anyway, is it?"

It hurts.

It hurts because it's true--or was true. Watching Deku walk away, listening to his heavy feet and the banging of their bedroom door, Katsuki can't help but remember other instances when he broke or destroyed Deku's things just because he could. The fact that today it was an accident doesn't make it any less his fault.

Katsuki groans and runs a hand over his face. He really fucked up.

He'd like nothing more than to follow Deku and not let him walk away from him--how things have changed… But then what? 'Sorry' doesn't feel like it'd be nearly enough, and Katsuki doesn't know what else he's supposed to say.

Tired steps take him to the kitchen. He stands in front of the open fridge for a while before pulling out the ingredients for katsudon. He's really not in the mood to cook, but he doesn't know what else to do.

He's just about done frying the pork and already filling up two bowls when slow steps come up behind him. He glances back at Deku, who stands there in a t-shirt inscribed with the words 'boyfriend shirt', his hands in his pockets.

"I'm so--" he starts, but Katsuki doesn't let him finish.

"Swear to god, Deku, if you try to apologize I'm shoving my foot up your ass."

Deku frowns at him.

"That's what grow-ups do, Kacchan. When they say something ugly or something they don't mean, or when they do something they shouldn't, they apologize."

"And what good does that do?" Katsuki mutters as he tops the bowls of food with the pork cutlets and places both on their small kitchen table. "Words won't knit your sweater back together. Sit down."

Taking his own advice, he draws a chair and sits. He fiddles with his chopsticks until Deku sighs and sits across from him.

"Itadakimasu," he says quietly, his eyes on his food.

Katsuki grunts in reply and watches him take a couple of bites before he asks, his voice tight and low, "Can it be repaired?"

Deku shrugs a little, and briefly looks up.

"I doubt it. It's a big rip. It's my fault, I noticed a loose bit of wool before and I didn't do anything about it. I should have fixed it then."

And it's just so completely <i>Deku</i> to take the blame for something that wasn't his fault that Katsuki doesn't know whether he wants to kick him or kiss him. In the end, he lightly kicks his shin under the table, and when Deku glares up at him, he mumbles, not quite meeting Deku's eyes even as his cheeks heat up, "'M sorry. For ripping your sweater and for what I said."

Deku's foot finds his again for something that feels more like a caress than a kick.

"The food's delicious," he says softly. "Thank you."

And Katsuki knows he's forgiven--just as well as he knows he doesn't deserve to be. Not yet.

Seven months later

This year again, they set up a Christmas tree.

All right, so Izuku sets up a Christmas tree while Kacchan sits there and watches. At least this time he doesn't say it's a silly tradition, though he did insist that Izuku only set it up the night before Christmas. Seeing how busy they've both been lately, Izuku doesn't think he'd have found the time to set it up sooner regardless.

And besides, Kacchan never said when it's got to come down...

Izuku just likes the lights twinkling when the room is dark at night. And he likes finding hero-themed ornaments to hang from the branches. He has four All Might ones on there, each in a different costume. He doesn't despair of finding one for EraserHead someday. He has a Froppy one and a Uravity one--they're not licensed merch, just handmade figures created by a fan he found online. He's got an official Shouto ornament--well, really it's a collectible figure meant to sit on a shelf, Izuku just looped a bit of string around Shouto's outstretched hand... and he makes sure to hang it way in the back, so Kacchan won't roll his eyes and pout every time he looks at the tree.

There's also a licensed Dynamight ornament on there, and Izuku makes sure to put it front and center. Kacchan absolutely loathes it, because whoever sculpted it gave him a smile--a nice, soft smile, the kind of smile Izuku is the only one lucky enough to receive. Which is why Izuku loves it. And why he bought seven of them, the replacements stashed in a secure place just in case this one 'mysteriously' disappears.

After hanging up another handful of ornaments--they're minor heroes, but Izuku has had the chance to work with each of them--he stands back to admire his work. A little behind him, Kacchan grabs a fistful of his t-shirt and pulls until Izuku, laughing, stumbles back and into his lap. Kacchan's arms immediately wrap around him, holding him where he is--not that Izuku has any other place to be.

"What do you think?" he asks happily, watching the multicolor lights blink on and off randomly.

Kacchan grunts. "Don't think I didn't notice you hiding Candycane in the back. You should put a real candy cane on there, it'd look nicer."

Clucking his tongue, Izuku taps the thigh underneath his own.

"Be nice," he admonishes. "Or I'll put two of yours on there."

A huff against the base of his neck sends shivers down Izuku's spine.

"It doesn't need another one of me on there," Kacchan mutters. "But it could use one of you."

Izuku wouldn't mind, but his agency isn't like Kacchan's. They don't really do merch there--which Izuku is fine with, he agrees with his boss that the important part is to be a hero, not to sell stuff, and he's about to remind Kacchan of that when something small and green dangles in his peripheral vision. With some difficulty, he lifts his eyes from the tree and looks at...

Himself.

Or, well, a version of himself.

The figure dangling from Kacchan's fingers on a silver string is just three or four inches tall, but the details on it, from the costume to the pose to the expression on the face, are all exquisite. Whoever sculpted this--is it clay? It looks like glazed clay--did an awesome job.

And gave Izuku an absolutely feral expression.

Izuku doesn't know whether to laugh or squeal or just turn around and kiss Kacchan.

"It's a little Deku!" he exclaims, then laughs as he takes the figure in his hands. "A really angry little Deku!"

"Bet he's angry because Dynamight has been hanging in that tree with all these extras without him. You should put him up there."

Izuku is happy to do so, but not before turning In Kacchan's lap and stealing a kiss... or maybe even two.

Then he practically bounces to the tree and carefully hangs up his figure next to Kacchan's. They're the same size and fit perfectly together. It makes Izuku wish they'd get to fight side by side more often. Maybe some day, he thinks wistfully, they'll open an agency together. They've talked about it a few times, but they're still rookies, barely out of school, and while they technically <i>could</i>, they both agreed it was too soon.

"I love my present, Kacchan," Izuku says as he turns back to his boyfriend. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Kacchan says, "but it's not your present. This is."

His fingers drum on the top of the plain white box that definitely wasn't next to him on the couch just a second ago. Izuku tilts his head, wishing one of his quirk was X-ray vision or something. His fingers itch and he doesn't dare take a step forward.

"Do you want to put it under the tree with yours?" he says softly.

Kacchan shakes his head.

"Come here," he says. "Open it."

Izuku doesn't move.

"But Christmas is only tomorrow," he protests, his voice sounding weak even to his own ears.

Kacchan's lips stretch on a wicked grin. "Have it your way. I'll open it, then, and keep it for my--"

Before he can finish or slide his fingers under the edge of the box, Izuku plops himself back down on his lap and draws the box onto his knees. Laughing, Kacchan encircles his waist with his arms again and rests his chin on Izuku's shoulder, watching as he lifts the top of the box and reveals a familiar pattern and colors: All Might's costume.

It takes a good two or three seconds before Izuku recognizes the equally familiar ridges of knitted wool. His breath catches in his throat and he very slowly, very carefully lifts what he knows is a sweater out of the box.

It's his sweater. He knows it is, because there's a small, black spot of indelible ink near the collar; it was already there when Izuku got it.

It's the sweater he's kept in the bottom drawer of his dresser for the past few months, unable to wear it anymore without aggravating the rip but unwilling to put it away for good.

But when he turns it around, the rip is gone. And if Izuku didn't know exactly where to look, he probably wouldn't notice the repaired area. Everything matches, from the color of the wool to the pattern of the knitting. The only thing is that the wool seems a little newer in that area, less fuzzy than the rest, but that's only because Izuku knows what he's looking at.

"Kacchan," he breathes, but doesn't know what else to say.

"Is that all right?" Kacchan asks, his voice tight. "I mean, I know I should have asked first before touching your stuff, but then it'd have ruined the surprise."

"It's..." Izuku's throat feels too tight. He clutches the sweater to his chest. "It's perfect. Thank you."

After Kacchan kisses the back of his head, he manages to ask, "But... how? I looked for shops that repair knitted things but I didn't find anything."

Kacchan mumbles something; Izuku isn't quite sure he hears right. "You... what?"

"I learned to knit," Kacchan repeats a little louder, sounding embarrassed of all things. "My parents work with this old woman sometimes, she knits samples of their designs for them and then they have factories recreate the stuff. I asked her if it was fixable, and when she said yes I asked if she'd teach me how. I wanted to have it ready for your birthday but that shit took longer than I expected. I just finished last week."

Izuku understands all the words individually but he struggles to make sense of them all together. Shifting on Kacchan's lap, he turns to look at him, and is surprised to find him red-faced.

"You learned to knit?" he asks, unable to keep an edge of awe from his voice.

"I messed up your sweater," Kacchan mutters. "Wanted to fix the damn thing." Rather than looking at Izuku, he rests his forehead against Izuku's collarbone and talks against his t-shirt. "There's a lot of stuff I can't fix, but that, at least--"

Izuku has heard enough. Holding the sweater close with one hand, he cups Kacchan's face with the other and kisses him within an inch of his life. Soon, Izuku is wearing his sweater again. The lights of the tree keep twinkling, but Izuku only has eyes for Kacchan.

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years

Text

Growing Pains | TFW

Request: Hey! Can I please request a platonic x reader with team free will 2.0? The reader gets turned back to a toddler by a witch and they try to ask Rowena for help but, the spell lasts for a week and it's just plain chaotic. The reader is extremely clumsy and hungry but knows a few words like "Hungry" and "Thirsty". The rest is up to you 😊. Thanks in advance!

A/N: It is a little different from the request, so I hope you don’t mind, also it’s not great. And I’m terribly sorry for the wait, I hope you can understand why xxx

Walking around the lab, you screwed your face up at the mess. It was like toddler’s had been let loose in the room, there was glass broken upon the floor, paper thrown out of the shredder, and worst of all, no one to condemn for the death of the scientist.

Sighing, you shut your eyes, leaning back into one of the counters. “So, the guy that was killed had like a dozen or so kids and we can’t find a single one of them, or the mother?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose as Cas circled the room once more, seeing if he could find anything that your human eyes had missed. But alas, there was no ultimatum, nothing that could direct the pair of you to answers.

“That sounds about right.” Dean’s gruff voice came from the doorway, stepping on shards of glass as he came closer to the two of you. “Although at this time, I am calling shots on the mom being the killer.”

“We don’t even know if this is up our alley Dean.” You sighed, opening your eyes and looking at the older hunter. “Did you get anything from the co-workers?”

“Not a peep.” His tone was almost too cheerful, especially considering the circumstances. The group of you were nowhere near completing this case, and all he could think about was the burger joint around the corner. You were close enough to it, that you would give in and accompany him. “Who’s hungry?”

“After the sight of the guts strung in the ceiling fan,” you looked up to emphasise your point, “I think I may have lost what appetite that I had left.”

“Bad luck. You snooze, you lose.” With that he left the room, presumably heading off to stuff his face. It was impossible not to roll your eyes at his childish behaviour, although in all fairness, you should have been used to it by now. However your dear angel friend remained with you.

“We should meet with Sam and Jack, and see if they have found anything in the house.” Castiel spoke, confused by the lack of evidence in this death. There was nothing that could have helped, even the majority of the man’s body was gone.

“Why would someone have that many children?” It was a rhetorical question, but just the thought of your body going through it’s natural process that many times made you shiver.

“To repopulate.” Cas put simply, although that was a straightforward fact. But that was not what you had meant, admittedly you had a soft spot for kids, even missed being one sometimes.

“I know, but doesn’t that seem sort of strange to you?” Your mind was spinning with all sorts of possibilities, of what could and couldn’t be going on. Unless, well... “It could be like some sort of supernatural litter, or they’re breeding test subjects. Is there even any record of them having that many children?”

Your conclusions made your friend frown, and he pointed his finger up, unintentionally pointing to the tendril of flesh that was hanging from the fan above.

“We should check the records.” And with that he grabbed your bag from just outside of the room, pulling your laptop from out of it. Just then, your phone began ringing. It was Sam, and so you answered.

“Hey, you find anything?” There was silence on the other end, until you heard the shrill sound of what you supposed to be a child.

“Was that Jack or -”

“Hey!” The nephilim retorted. You could already picture the child like frown on his face, but before either of you could bicker about your comparison, the Winchester on call spoke first.

“She left one of her kids, and we found hex bags.” He breathed, relieved that this did in fact involve what you all were guessing to be a witch, yet also frustrated about how messy this all was. “But the thing is, this son of hers was closed in the basement, and the only thing down there for him to eat down there was a man’s leg...”

“We should get that tested, it could be the father.” You said, trying to think about this case adjoined with all of its new revelations. “So, what is her goal here, she’s trying to turn her own children into cannibals?”

“That’s how the ‘myth’ of the wendigo started in human folklore.” Jack commented, before he frowned. Him and Sam both let out shouts, making you fear for the pair.

“Sam?”

“She doesn’t have any children, nor did he.” Cas spoke, the content on the screen disarranging this entire predicament further. “What just happened Sam?”

His breathing could still be heard from the other end of the line. It seemed like he was in shock of some sort.

“You’ve got that right, Cas.” He breathed, referring to the fact that she had no spawn. “And I suspect the others are like him. He’s just turned into a grown man, we’re going to attempt to get an answer to who he is. Be careful if you encounter Mrs Fletcher, both of you.”

So, now you had a presumed answer on how Mr Fletcher had died, you had to tell Dean. Quickly, you and Cas left the scene, looking for the elder Winchester, remembering to take any of your items with you.

“Thankyou.” You nodded, doing all of the talking to any police whilst Cas held your phone at an arm’s length. “Got any clues on where our witch works?” You asked him.

Sam replied soon, making the matter of reaching Dean that more prominant. “West Street, not far from where you are. At the burger joint, Paula’s.”

“Shit!”

When you and Castiel arrived, Dean Winchester was nowhere to be found. That fact had you deeply concerned, more so than you would usually be on a hunt. This presumed witch was targeting adults, and not only did he and the majority of you fit the agenda, but you didn’t want to know what would happen if you ended up disturbing her crosshairs.

There was no one inside, excluding yourself and the angel. It was eerie, almost too quiet to be owned by a witch. Scratch that, definitely too quiet.

“Behind the counter.” You nodded towards the door, taking the lead first, lightly pushing it. The bell atop of it jingled, making you blink hazily, before all turned to a deep gaze of pixels.

Castiel walked closer to you, tapping your forehead, but to no avail was your state resolved. Instead, you felt the need to collapse and keep your eyes contained behind their lids. And so you gave into that feeling, only hearing the voices of Sam and Jack before it was over.

When you awoke, you were in your bed in the bunker, but it felt much larger than it ever had before. There was so much room to move upon the mattress, the duvet even felt bigger.

As you looked down at your hands, you realised they had shrunk significantly. For all you were aware, this could all have been a very lucid dream, but you doubted that. As a hunter, the strange things were never false, they were real.

Attempting to leave your bed, you dropped your legs over the side, although they were now incapable of touching the floor. Instead of landing upright, you fell, causing a thud against the floor.

The sound had obviously rendered, and it removed all thoughts that were rattling around in your mind. Memories flashed before your eyes, sending a haze of dizziness to your shrunken body, until they all left, making you aloof in your own adult room.

Dean rushed out of his own reside as he heard the thud. He had followed the witch around the back and shanked her, but there had been a second plan up her long black sleeves. And he should have known, as he walked into your room, only to find a little girl with a strong resemblance to you.

This was her charade when alive, and the issue still stuck even now even when she was dead. Dean rubbed his face, feeling the muscles that were tensing beneath the skin. And now they were left with the outcome that they and you had tried to resolve.

Looking down at your youthful silhouette reminded Dean as to exactly why he hated witches so much. They were deceitful and cruel, and unfortunately so much more. “Sam!” He called out in a hurry, cradling your small, whining body in his arms.

You tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but your once fellow hunter would not allow you to do so. There was no logic turning in the cogs of your mind, instead, you were much rather shy to someone that you were viewing as a stranger.

In a flash, Sam was at the threshold of your door, looking in as it was ajar. He saw Dean with a kid, and there was only one explanation for it. They had been hustled whilst the witch turned in her grave...

Cas examined a book in the war room, whilst Jack followed his actions. Sam was on the phone with Rowena, asking, some would see it as begging, the witch to come and fix you up. And thus, Dean was left with you, whilst he nursed a beer in his opposite hand.

You tried to reach the glass bottle, but Dean jerked it away from your grasp. “No.” He warned you, having continuously done so before when you were too lazy to fetch your own from the fridge. But that didn’t stop you, instead it humoured you, making you laugh at the perceived game.

“Stop it.” He spoke again, making Jack laugh at your stubbornness which clearly hadn’t changed. For once, it was nice for him not to be the youngest in the room, even though technically he still wasn’t. But all got distracted when Sam huffed a sigh of relief over the phone.

“Okay, great. Me and Dean will meet you there.” And then he hung up.

Rather than being in Dean’s arms once again, you had been traded to Sam’s as the eldest drove Baby to the destination that Rowena had proposed. “Thirsty.” You mumbled, a gurgle following your very short sentence.

Sam looked at Dean, who only shrugged. He was unsure of what to do, they couldn’t stop at a gas station, otherwise they would miss their meeting with Rowena, and as they knew far too well, she was a tricky one to get a hold of.

“No you’re not.” Dean told you, trying to convince your mind otherwise to its actual thoughts. For the moment of which you were silent, he thought it may have worked, however the peace was not eternal, for you spoke again.

“Hungry.” You managed to speak next, making Dean huff from exhaustion. He thought of your need for a drink, and then it clicked, he tipped his head back at Sam.

“There’s a beer in the back.” It possibly could have rolled under his seat, these roads to the witch were bumpy. Sam gasped at the statement, placing his hand on your back as he bounced you and kept you distracted from your desires.

“Please tell me that you’re not serious.” At this point, Sam would not be surprised with his brother. Quite clearly, as much as the man adored kids, he was getting quite fed up with you in this state. It was day in, day out and yet the effects still hadn’t worn themselves out.

“She’s technically of legal drinking age.” He shrugged, remembering all of the times that you would steal his beer from the fridge, or even sometimes his hands.

“Technically,” the younger of the two pried, glaring at his brother, “currently she isn’t,”

“We’re here anyway.” Dean cut the conversation short, putting the car in park. For the first time in his life, the hunter and legacy was eager to see Rowena. Never did he think that day would ever come, but somehow your obliviousness had landed you all here, and he hated it.

Sam got out of the car, carrying you to a bench that Dean had decided to park his own rear on. There was a nice breeze whipping his hair before his face, and this younger you mirrored the reaction the elder one would have had.

You laughed, watching the swarm of locks cover his face, and move to the other side, with the swiftest and slightest motions as the direction switched itself up.

Footsteps, clearly heels, could be heard clicking their way over. It was isolated in this park, presumably the redhead’s doing as she came into view with an amused grin stretching her chin.

“Well, if I was not already quite acquainted with the pair of you, I would presume the two of you were fathers to dear little (Y/N).” Rowena bent forward, ignoring the glares she received from the men, ogling at your youthful expressions. “Are you sure that you don’t want to keep her like this? She is quite adorable when she hasn’t got the brains to work with my son when the two of you dimwits think it fits into your narrative. Or hold a gun to the back of my neck and blackmail me with my own security.”

“Definitely.” Was Dean’s instant response. He could not do another day with baby you, he’d start going grey, or his eyes would turn black all of a sudden from pent up rage.

“Yes, Rowena.” Sam answered, bowing his head, as your fingers decided to thread themselves through his hair.

“Shame.” She pouted briefly, before waving her hand, and then you were, dazed, but sat in Sam’s lap, full size. As soon as you came to, your eyes widened at the position you were in, and you were quick to launch yourself out of it. He however sat there stunned. “Told you we should have called her earlier.” Sam said, still feeling awkward from your exchange, and Dean only grunted in a reply.

Dean knew for sure though, you had been a pain in the ass. If it ever happened again, he would just leave you with Jack and Cas.

#supernatural imagine #supernatural one shot #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural prompts #supernatural requests #tfw x reader #tfw imagine #team free will #team free will x reader #dean winchester imagines #sam and dean #sam winchester imagine #cas x reader

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