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#it’s not nearly as much fun on your own but once you’ve killed a couple people to your side and have the numbers to terrify people
thymeofarrival · 5 months
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Gem’s bloodlust is genuinely scary and unsettling and I adore it and her so much
… I hit tag limit on this and I’m not even close to done spilling my thoughts in the tags so I’m going to post so I can copy my tags into real text and keep writing them
#I can’t imagine facing her as one of the uninfected when she’s got my heart rate up just watching from her perspective#she’s a hunter#I’ve written something before about how she talks about murder in the same excited tone as cute decorations#and people sometimes underestimate her because of it despite her reputation as a good fighter#but she’s not a fighter she’s a predator#she’s a hunter and even watching from her perspective sometimes it feels like she’s hunting me#she’s hunting All#and it’s exciting and fun for her#and she needs her pack to some extent but when it gets too big she needs to split off again#idk what’s going on in these tags it’s just. hnnghhh. Red Gem#or even before she went red#just bloodthirsty predator gem reveling in the thrill of the hunt#it’s not nearly as much fun on your own but once you’ve killed a couple people to your side and have the numbers to terrify people#you can do that. you can circle around your prey and corner them and terrify them before you kill them#and it feels like power and it feels like a game and it feels like fun#because it’s not life or death it’s success or failure#but maybe everything is a game to a creature like gem who hops between worlds at will#what if she could leave secret life at any time#like she could hop between empires and hermitcraft at any time#if she can leave then she really is just there to have a chance to enjoy the hunt in a setting where it’s expected#encouraged even#death games as a way to satisfy her bloodlust so it doesn’t spill over someplace where it might Actually Hurt#death games to take the edge off#death games to get a chance to reveal the fangs behind her grin and the sharp points of her antlers#we call her a deer because that’s the closest thing our minds can connect to her appearance#but she’s always been a little too Other for that#oh and now the Void has taken root in her too#it’s claimed her eye and arm#maybe it helped guide her aim#or maybe she’s always been a creature of the space between worlds (what with the way she hops between them)
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nburkhardt · 11 months
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Somebody Loves You, You Got A Friend (part 2)
(Part one)
It’s been nearly a week since everything was flipped and he’s no longer “King Steve”, no longer friends with Tommy and Carol, them jumping ship when Billy rolled into town.
Without a girlfriend or friends, he’s a little lonely right now.
Calling the number on the matchbox is easy, especially when it’s only his mom and him in the house today, so he grabs hold of the phone and dials it.
“Munson Residence, if this is Hagen again, I’m gonna hang up” a smooth voice floods his ear and he’s so glad his mom is working outside, because the sharp intake of breath would’ve had her eavesdropping immediately.
“Uh, hi, it’s- it’s Steve, Steve Harrington” he stumbles over his words, “you- left your-“
He’s interrupted by a chuckle, “I’m surprised you even called, Harrington.”
“Why would you give me your number if you didn’t think I’d call?”
“Considering you were sobbing like crazy, dude. I’m surprised you even got home, I realized after I should’ve driven you home. But, I didn’t think you’d like being seen with the resident freak”
Frowning, he looks out the window to spy on his mom, she’s too busy with her flowers. “Truthfully? I don’t give a shit who I’m seen with. I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’m on the bottom of the totem pole”
A snort, then continued laughter is filling his ear and he’s smiling like an idiot. Clearly, he’s been in the wrong crowd since school started. Because that laugh? He would absolutely kill to hear it every day of his life.
“Aren’t you a surprise, your highness. How about this, you come over and we’ll do a trail run. Sound good?”
He nodded, like an idiot. A smile growing on his face and he only knows this because his mom is inside and laughing at him. Scowling at her, he forces himself to talk, “sounds great, I’ll be there”
Eddie responds with a ‘see you soon’ as he hangs up and Steve just scowls at his mom as she walks up to him, “aren’t you adorable when you’re flustered”
Groaning, “I’m not flustered! I’m- anyway! I’m going to a friends place”
She laughs again, kissed his forehead and went on her way to shower. “Have a good time and remember to be safe!”
Throwing his head back with a groan, he went on his way to his own room to get properly dressed yelling out an ‘I love you and be home later’ to her as he walks out the door and into the unknown.
The test run, as it turns out was an amazing time. Despite running in different circles, having nearly nothing in common, they get along so well, it’s almost scary. Eddie’s all metal and nerdy, while he’s all pop and sports.
Truly the odd couple.
———
Rumors at school immediately spread wild and fast.
Not that he cared, actually, he and Eddie make it a game. Who can hear the wildest one, so far, Eddie’s heard that Steve is buying his friendship. Which, rude.
Steve will freely admit, he’s never had this much fun in years. His mom even admitted this is the happiest she’s seen him in a while and she’s happy to see it. (His dad is, of course, disappointed to hear about the lack of Hagen friendship. But doesn’t say anything else, thankfully.)
After only a week, he decided to introduce his mom to Eddie and eventually it’ll be a mistake with the two teaming up against him. But after the dinner, he’s unfortunately embarrassed by his mom talking and showing baby Steve to his new friend.
If he’s being honest, which he tends to be, he hopes Eddie is more than a friend someday.
And once Eddie is heading home, his mom corners him and he can see the twinkle in her eye. “That boy, is an absolute delight! A way better fit than Nancy, sweetie.”
Has Steve mentioned how much he loves his mother? Because truly, if anyone understood him, it’s her.
They don’t say anything more, because really, they don’t need too. They’re comfortable right now and life is so much better when they’re happy.
Ending it there for now :) again, this story is mostly slice of life with honestly no real plot to it. It was originally just a fun story I was writing for myself because at the time it was alllll I wanted and there wasn’t many fics with the exact thing I wanted. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it!
Any questions or if you see any mistakes let me know!! If you wanna be added to the tag list, I can do that ☺️
Taglist: @spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @zerokrox-blog @callme-keys @maya-custodios-dionach @rajumat @yellowdevilkitten @munsonfamilyband @steddierthings
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kazimortem · 1 year
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1, 4, 6, and 9 for Takizawa because you know what, why not. If this is too many feel free to only do a couple of your choice!
1. (Hands you a free card to ramble about whatever for your favorite character/ship)
I don't care if SeiAki is, at its core, extremely toxic and could never realistically be canon, but I will take interesting, toxic chemistry any day over healthy, boring/nonexistent chemistry. Sometimes toxic ships are just more fun with the absurd amounts of angst
I just feel like Akira and Amon's relationship is just… a whole lot of nothing. I feel like Amon only got with her because he felt guilty over her dad and because it was what she wanted at the time—and the closeness she feels to Amon kind of comes off as her clinging to the closest thing she has to her dad.
It also rubs me wrong that Akira's personality and plot relevance just kind of fizzles out once she and Amon officially get together. I hate when that happens to female characters :(
There's this infinitely compelling and beautiful tragedy to Akira and Seidou's relationship that maintains both of their personalities and desires and dynamic. I would have loved to see them continue interacting and talking about what they've been through so Akira's brain could be picked a little more concerning her feelings about not being good enough and why she felt so strongly about losing Seidou that she threw her entire life away and nearly died just to tell him she wished she'd saved him.
Another thing I like about Seidou as a love interest is that it bothers me how clear it is Amon doesn't see Akira as her own person but as her father's daughter—which could be due in part to him feeling some intense survivors guilt over his death. Be compares her to him and thinks of him and brings him up when she's around.
But Seidou? Even if he holds a grudge and sees her as a rival, he sees her as Akira. Just Akira. Not Kureo Mado's daughter. He never even once brings her father up in conversation (iirc), but he most certainly knew who he was.
Obviously he's blinded a lot by his inferiority complex and projects his feelings of inadequacy on her, but I think that also makes his dynamic and relationship with her SO much more compelling than Akira's relationship with Amon. Her sacrifice was his first time not viewing her as this flawless, cold rival to him. His entire perspective on her changed in an instant. He risked his life for someone he swore he hated for years. He was so genuinely worried about her and didn't want her to die.
And that makes me want to see him Akira more than anyone.
4. What character do you (the asker) remind me of?
This one probably won’t work very well for anons but no matter.
Seidou!
6. What’s your favorite piece of TG fan content you’ve made? (If you haven’t made any just treat this as 7)
I will be honest I'm obsessed with my Blinding Lights fic but have long periods of writers block. I get self conscious sometimes about my characterization bc I don't want it to be too fanonized but I also want to have fun.
I have a lot of plans for it that I just…cannot get to yet. But hopefully one day I can
9. You switch places with (character) for a day, what’s the first thing you’re doing with your newfound abilities/associations and do you survive.
Most definitely survive because I feel like trying to kill Seidou is like trying to kill a very stubborn roach. I'm not really sure what I'd do, though !
Maybe test out his ghoul abilities and have some fun doing like… parkour or something.
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thebreakfastgenie · 2 years
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A and T for the fic writing ask
A: Of the fanfic you’ve written, which is your favorite and why?
It's still The Emergency Room, which is a West Wing fic. I think it's my best work. I'm really happy with the prose, I think I achieved the level of vividness I was going for, and I think the dialogue hit the mark. It's always really gratifying when readers tell me they can hear the dialogue in the characters' voices, because that's the way I write it. The Emergency Room is the rare fic where I can pretty much hear all of it.
It looks like you dodged a bullet.” Josh laughed, once, before he could stop himself. “Not so much,” he said, breaking into a grin.
This is one of my favorite bits I've ever written, although when I went to get this just now I thought "hm, I kind of wish I had done this slightly differently" so that tells you what kind of writer I am, lol.
I really did a lot with subtext in this fic and I don't know how much any of that came through to the readers, but I was definitely working with that in a way I hadn't before and I'm proud of it.
I think this is also my favorite because it's about something. It's about healing. The subtext in the ER scene is you lived because you wanted to live and in the last scene with Donna, Josh is reassuring her that he's going to be okay on his own because he actually is. That's what it's all about! I'm just gonna quote a couple bits because I like them:
He felt a surge of appreciation—affection, even—but protection wasn’t what he needed now. “Next time it could be something else.” The implicit acknowledgment hung between them like frozen breath. There would be a next time. Donna turned up the heat. “We can deal with that too.”
(I also had the "hm could I do this slightly differently" impulse on this one lol)
“I’ll be right here when you get back,” he whispered into her hair. She pulled back just far enough to look him in the eye. He caught the glint of unshed tears. “Promise?” He squeezed her once more, tighter, then released her. “I promise.”
(the subtext of this scene, btw, is you're not gonna kill yourself, right? it has a Toby counterpart in Fortune Cookie Wisdom)
I think with Emergency Room a reached a potential I didn't quite know I had and that really motivates me to do that again and keep getting better, so it's very important to me.
I also want to give an honorable mention to a couple of fics that I am, personally, very fond of. Campfire (also West Wing), which I started mentally writing while I was in the woods and spent some time panicking that I would forget it before I could write it down (there was some furious notes app typing during lunch and I never ever write on my phone, lol). That energy was really fun and I'm happy with the result!
I similarly had so much fun writing Expenses back in my Hamilton days and while I think my writing has improved since then I think that one holds up pretty well. And again with 'Til Death (Un)does Us Part (Star Trek TOS), which I was worried I wouldn't be able to type fast enough. I do think my writing has improved since then, too, but I also know that fic was uncharacteristically light for me (lol) and the tone and style really work for what it is.
I'm really fond of the play's the thing, but it's too new for me to fully evaluate it yet, and it's also unlikely to ever be my personal favorite because it's so short. I'm biased toward the longer ones because they take so much energy I'm impressed with myself for producing that much.
And then there's the one I just posted, safe travels. There are parts of this I think are very, very good, but whenever I write something it takes a while before I can actually perceive it as a reader.
The Big Moment is:
“Hawk, he held a gun to your head!” BJ explodes. The thought of Hawkeye at gunpoint enrages him nearly as much as it frightens him. “What would you do if it was me?” Hawkeye asks. “If I had a chest full of shrapnel, bleeding into my brain—” “I—I’d try to make some burr holes. Get some pressure on the arteries—” “What if you weren’t a doctor?” Hawkeye presses.
but personally I like the Potter conversation better, especially:
“You’re serious.” “You thought I was kidding?” He’s not too old to feel the flush of shame. “I’m sorry.” “People always think I’m kidding,” Pierce shrugs it off. “Of course, most of the time, I am.”
I actually think the best scene is the first one in the mess tent, especially:
BJ gives him a once over. “You’re a mess,” he declares. Hawkeye scowls. “Is that your expert medical opinion?” “You know you’re on duty in post-op,” BJ reminds him. “Charles is already in a sore mood—” “—because of how thoroughly we whooped him—” Margaret interjects. “—and he’ll be even sorer if you don’t relieve him on time.”
I just think I captured the group well with that bit. I also like a lot of the non-dialogue lines, like this one:
Civility and courage are in short supply in the army, but the colonel has both: the courage to give an order and the civility to disguise it as a favor. Charles admires these qualities, when he’s in a better mood.
So maybe this fic will end up being my favorite once I'm able to perceive it. Probably not, though, because I feel like Emergency Room is still structurally and thematically tighter.
T: Any fanfic tropes you can’t stand?
Yes. The thing is, there are very few fanfic tropes I actually like. It's not about tropes, for me, it's about execution. In terms of fanfiction, I usually have tropes I can't stand for a specific fandom, because they I don't feel they match the characters or the tone. In general lately I'm just... not a fan of pining. At all. Even mutual pining. I do have exceptions to this, but they're every few. I wouldn't say I can't stand them, but in general I don't get the appeal of a lot of the classic fanfic tropes and I always kinda feel like they're just a meme and I'm a little surprised when I realize people, like, actually read/write that. I don't like There's Only One Bed very much. Fake Dating can be fun but I think it's way overhyped. I only like Enemies To Lovers when it actually suits the characters, which just doesn't apply to most of my fandoms. I'm sure there are more but I can never think of tropes off the top of my head so if you're curious what I think about a specific trope feel free to ask! I can't stand soulmate AUs. I'm not a fan of destined romance in general. I do kinda like the opposite, where the universe really doesn't want these people to be together, but they fall in love anyway. This isn't exactly a trope but the thing I really can't stand in a lot of fanfiction is that it's just too much. Especially with a slowburn pairing and a pre-relationship fic that's set early (or, worse, a fic that gets the slowburn together way too early).
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savetooru · 2 months
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the miracle of french pipes
for the past couple of years i've been incredibly transfixed by all the things rené magritte's 1929 painting the treachery of images manages to make me question just by fucking existing; but i've never put any of these thoughts out into the open because, like, when and where? it's less a fun conversation topic and more a spiral of awe and delight that makes me feel crazy and fucked up and glad to be alive and exactly the thing a blogpost is good for so. i mean. here we go. 1
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to start off, the only thing you need to know is that ceci n'est pas une pipe is french for this is not a pipe. we'll cut to the painter himself for the rest of the basic rundown:
The famous pipe. How people reproached me for it! And yet, could you stuff my pipe? No, it's just a representation, is it not? So if I had written on my picture "This is a pipe", I'd have been lying! — René Magritte
it's not particularly hard to understand, but what really gets me is that the treachery is only really revealed through the very thing magritte pokes fun at. he basically cautions us about conflating an object with its image; but the same thing should apply to the text below it. the word 'pipe' isn't an actual pipe either, but merely a representation of it. does that make the whole piece a double negative? what right does a representation have to undermine another's authenticity? 2 (cue: coyote meets road runner. it is at this point the canvas goes KABOOM.) an attempt at a reasonable and valuable line of questioning: in a truly objective world, words and images are separate from their actual meaning— so what's the point of making art? of taking a thing and diluting it for other people's consumption so that it's the same but slightly off-kilter, merely an abstract-impressionist approximate of the proverbial real deal? 3 the best answer staring at a ceiling fan whirl can get you: well, the miracle of french pipes is that we don't live in a truly objective world. we accept and trust that other people will leap through rings of fire and prickly hurdles to grasp at our own humble straws. in fact, we're assured of it. we buy into the treachery ourselves. where there isn't meaning before, we fill in the gaps accordingly. see: mom leaves her dishes unwashed for once, so you massage her temples before she has to get up for work. a friend asks if you're busy so you make time you don't have for a call to check-in. you come across a painting of a pipe and you hate the thought of smoke but the veil lifts anyway. the illusion reveals its comedy. and i get you might be thinking— well, we all know this. cavemen knew this because why else would they carve pictures on the wall for us to dig up centuries later? it's the definition of fundamental. what the hell makes magritte so special? nothing! nothing, save for the fact he exposes the glamour. magic tends to lose its shine when you live and breathe it, you know? like, i knew we lived in a reality where wanting to make sense of each other was the default setting. we were always born to grasp at meaning. i just didn't appreciate that for what it was before. i imagine him sitting in a parisian café nearly a hundred years into the past giggling about this stupid painting he's sitting on, having no idea how hard it's gonna body-slam a twenty-three year old living out in the tropics with a lightness only previously observed in white women who have seen eat, pray, love. i laugh often about this— it's a great thought for when i'm feeling down.
1. if it wasn’t obvious yet, i know nothing about actual french pipes. this is not about them. i’m sorry. 2. for a painting that explicitly rejects meaning it is BURSTING AT THE GODDAMN SEAMS WITH IT. i wanna pull magritte aside just to be like bro what is wrong with you. bro you’ve got to stop. you think too much. your humor is too witty. your surrealism is too swag. they’ll kill you 3. your choice as to how you'd like to describe the umbrella of spoken words, texts actually sent, and communicative mimicry you've accumulated in life but imo it's all organic if it at any point lived in your head. gross, right. all the poets are like yeah nothing's original and that's fine. and it is, but implies what we do is regurgitate like birds at an unprecedented rate. like okay nature is beautiful BUT EWW!?!!?
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iheartyvesss · 9 months
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eternity.
chapter 01, destruction.
dream of the endless x goddess!reader
warnings? none, tension between destruction and reader but it’s only a little!
wc? 2.1k
a lot of italics bc i’m a slut for emphasis//cross post from ao3! ♥︎
who does not know of the beautiful (name)? the sweet goddess of grief, misery and darkness that somehow holds the softest heart known to man. the goddess that comes to place gentle hands on children at the loss of their parents, the same goddess that passes entire villages on to hades. the same goddess that finds herself infatuated with her superiors.
the endless.
living as a young goddess was..stressful. you had too much to do every second of the day, and you begin to wonder how your elders have done this for so long. the life seems luxurious, you stay beautiful forever—young forever with very rare challenges. there are very few weapons that can kill you, and when you bleed it’s a beautiful gold color that is poisonous to your enemies. what more could you ask for?
that’s how you felt at first, your first hundred years or so of life were fun. you spent your time partying and dealing with the few duties you had. this was a prime time in greece and rome, and as both countries had roman and greek versions of you, you spent significant time in both places. the most you think you dealt with in this time was the peloponnesian war as well as the persian war, the misery that followed was plentiful. to you, it appeared over the area in a deep murky fog, hard to see through and even harder to relieve yourself of.
despite having a negative function, you definitely found yourself being rather positive more often than not. you didn’t have time to succumb to the misery nor the grief that your subjects went through nearly everyday. because of this alone, you found the roman and greek gods warming up to you fairly quickly. their original hostility was understandable, you didn’t have any blood relation to them and practically popped out of nowhere. i mean, technically, you did. destiny formed you himself, out of clay and his own power. you didn’t harness any of it, though, only gaining immortality among other things.
you believed that you were put here for a reason, part of a prophecy long lost to the centuries. after all, the greeks were not the first to roam this earth. your endless were. the ones who’d given you life were here following their parents; night and day. you felt honored to be created by the eldest, because if he created you then you had a larger purpose. something to look forward to, if you will.
in the meantime, you’d tend to your place within greece’s ideals of polytheism. you’d act as your own priestess, it kind of amused you to see people remark at the resemblances between you and the marble statue of you above the temple. you’d only hum, providing a soft smile and pretend to be bashful at the comparison. you were no prophet, but you did know how to help those wallowing in their misery. you knew how to relieve grief, and how to pass it on to your elder “sister” euphrosyne who was your exact opposite. the sweet goddess of cheer, joy, and mirth. you’ve happily come across her many times as you delivered people from their misery to her warm embrace of joy.
“sister,” you call softly, “do you think i am permanent?” euphrosyne looked up at you from her place on the balcony, nimble hands working on a painting she’d began a couple of weeks ago. worry flits across her face, a deep frown forming where a calm smile had once been. euphrosyne places her painting utensils down, wiping her hands on a cloth and inspecting her hands before making her way to you. she kneels in front of you, gently clasping her hands around your head, “(name), of course you are. who has put such thoughts in your mind? misery will live as long as joy does, and you will not whither no matter what happens. grief is permanent, death is forever. as long as death lives, so shall you.”
you purse your lips to attempt to fight tears, feeling pitiful for having such thoughts. how could joy treat misery with such gentleness? oh, how you loved her. you look away from her before meeting her eyes, “i am not of you, euphrosyne. i was formed of an endless, not born or nursed like a babe. i am practically nothing but a walking shell.” euphrosyne’s face twists into an expression you haven’t quite seen before. it’s a mix of grief and disbelief, and a twinge of anger in her soft eyes.
“you cry like i do, do you not?” you nod, but it isn’t enough for your elder sister. she stands up, forcing your chin upwards to see her, “answer me, sister.” she watches your eyes flitter, once away from her, then back to her face, then away again. you’re fighting yourself, but euphrosyne knows you very well. you will give in eventually, “i do, euphrosyne.” she hums in satisfaction, wiping the fresh tears that slipped down your cheeks. her hands don’t move, though, “and do you laugh, feel joy, happiness, love as i do?”
“yes.”
euphrosyne’s tone is sharp as she continues, “then you are not a shell, (name). shells can do nothing but mimic, not think for themselves. what you express is genuine feeling, you make your own decisions on how things do and don’t make you feel. you love endlessly, and are so gentle with your subjects. do not let such thoughts cloud you, nor your judgement.”
you still feel dumb for such thoughts, but you’d listen to your sister for now. there was no reason to continue to have thoughts that weren’t so much as close to true. you know your limits, euphrosyne knows your limits, so you shall calm the storm raging in your mind for now. your soft lips break into a sad smile, leaning into your sister’s touch before you stand to your full height. your arms wrap around her before you can think about it, and her beautiful laugh fills the air. “never worry yourself with such things, my dear little sister. even if you are not blood to me, you will still be my kin no matter what comes to us.”
“you are my opposite, as long as one of us lives, so will the other. i love you, and i will for eternity.” she kisses your forehead, her grip on your cheeks returning as the kiss turned firm. she pulled away, giggling at the prominent lipstick stain on your forehead. she wiped your tears herself before pressing light kisses to your eyelids, “now, let us go explore the city until we have more duties to tend to.” her hands leave your head to grip your hands, eyes glittering with underlying magic. she look you over, “come on sweet thing, we’re getting you dressed and going out.”
and, your sister did just that. she spent the next damn near hour dressing you with flickers of her fingers and giggles and hums. euphrosyne was so fun to be around, you’d already forgotten your earlier dilemma. there were no more worries about whether you were real or not, you were…content. maybe. you’d take this night out as something to remind you why you’ve enjoyed the centuries here as a goddess. to remember why you were you.
“it is rare that anyone dares to throw a party like this.” you gesture to the various men and women in less clothing than normal, the most obscene sounds filling the air from areas in the room no one could particularly see. euphrosyne laughs close to your ear, holding your hand in hers just a little tighter so neither of you get lost in the crowded villa. there were people everywhere indulging themselves in wine among other things. drunk sailors found themselves wherever they could perch, singing loud sea ballads with drunken grins on their faces. you heart felt warm. full. you were part of a culture and nothing could make you happier.
“um, i’m gonna get us some wine stay close to the fountain. i’ll be back, (name), don’t wander off.” she put emphasis on the don’t, knowing how much you enjoyed wandering off and getting indulged in various conversations with random people you knew nothing about. you were social and loveable, what could she possibly do about it? nothing, really, and that’s why you wandered off anyway.
this time, your adventure led you to a balcony. there was no one on it (surprisingly), so you took the liberty of being the first to welcome yourself to the open space. the wind was harsh against your body, leaving your dress moving to the side as your hair blew in the slightest. the moon was imminent tonight, and you could feel the energy of the moon goddess smiling upon you. feeling energies would never get old to you, everyone had their own energy that felt different to you. euphorsyne’s energy was soft…warm, almost. that’s probably why you felt such a need to be with her so often.
“i hope i am not disturbing you, goddess.” a gruff voice calls from behind you, soft in tone but rough in sound. you barely turn around, peeking over your shoulder at the man that’d discovered your little hide out. you picked up a white and gold chiton, and what seemed to be red hair. your lips formed into a smile as you fully turned around, “it is no proble- oh.” your eyes widened as you faced the strong man, veins shot. the man laughs softly at your reaction, “destruction? my lord, what are you doing in greece?”
even with your shock, you’d manage to keep honorifics up. it amused him, just a little. destruction steps forward, clasping his hands around yours, “i have heard your conflicts, i didn’t want to come whilst euphrosyne was present. i’d be causing conflict, she is not of my function, she is of delight.” he brings your hands to his lips, sighing softly as he tries to put his words together. destiny sent him to calm you down, and who was he to conflict with destiny? he isn’t, he believes, and even delight had said he should go. you tilt your head at the endless, surprised by the gentleness in his gestures.
destruction lets your hands go, gesturing for the both of you to lean on the balcony, “(name), your purpose is permanent, it is forever. you’ve nothing to worry about, things such as from which you are from and permanence should never concern you. you are misery, dear goddess. your function extends against every religion and much more, destiny would never make anyone less than what–or who–they are. he believes in you, as do i.”
you had felt yourself get over it earlier, but you didn’t think it would be so reassuring to hear it from an endless. it was quiet for a moment between the two of you, you were probably trying to collect yourself and your thoughts whilst destruction allowed you to do so. you pursed your lips as you watched the stars, feeling them twinkle and shine back at you, “i understand that, my lord, but i don’t believe these thoughts will stop for quite some time. i am three hundred years old, and i still have yet to stop thinking of such things. but,” you sigh, hiding your smile with your hair as you looked down to the people below, “thank you, destruction.”
destruction finds himself smiling as well, feeling the smile radiate from you, “don’t thank me for what has always been true, dear goddess.” his hand rests over yours on the railing, a reassuring warmth radiating from his hand to yours. your chest felt light, worries leaving as quick as they’d come. was this how it felt to be free? worries were plentiful, as were the feeling of relief when you let those same worries go. you wonder, how would the rest of your many (many) years go living, if this was how a measly 300 went? would you succumb to pressure?
“are you also here to enjoy the party? or have you only come to calm a childish goddess who questions herself?” both pairs of eyes are soft as they meet and destruction’s hoarse laugh fills the space between the two of you. he shakes his head, “you aren’t childish, but i was not given limits. so, i suppose i’ll stay a bit longer to amuse you.” you laugh softly as you squeeze his hand, “aw, if you wished to stay longer you hadn’t need to pin it on me. unless you’ve only stayed for me, dear destruction.”
the endless laughs. hard, and your face feels hot as you’ve gotten ahead of yourself. he looks up at the sky, calming his chuckles before finally turning to you, “i have stayed to know more of you, dear goddess.”
oh.
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jade-parcels · 3 years
Text
The genshin men: fatherhood edition
With: Childe, Zhongli, Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao, Venti, Albedo and Baizhu
—————————
Childe:
Ajax loves kids and he’ll make that known early on in your relationship
Like...This man wants five or more kids but he’ll settle for four. He dreams of a big family, getting to surround himself with you and your kids every night for family dinners, everyone getting together for big birthday parties or reunions! That’s his dream life! Plus, in Snezhnaya, most families have more than two kids anyways
He will cry so hard when his babies are placed in his arms for the first time, I mean he’s a mess. Nose is running, eyes puffy, lost of sniffling lmao he is so excited to be a dad!! Don’t you dare tell the other Harbingers how much he cried...What do you mean you took a picture when he wasn’t looking??? Hey??!?!
With his obscene amount of mora, he’ll buy a huge house that will accommodate everyone. Anything you want will be purchased that day or within 48 hours, the same goes for the kids
But they’ll all learn to be thankful for what they have. They’ll learn to fight, fish and speak multiple languages. He has high expectations but let’s face it, he’ll be proud of them no matter what
You’re gonna have to be the one to put your foot down though because Ajax doesn’t enjoy being the ‘mean parent’, he has trouble saying no to the kiddos which can create some tension between you and your husband. He has good intentions of course!! He doesn’t wanna say no to those cute, freckled faces!!
Zhongli:
Zhongli is nervous about having kids because he’s immortal. So this will go one of two ways. 1. You have the baby and the baby ends up not being immortal (or you adopt a baby who is not immortal) Then he loses you both. OR 2. You have the baby and it inherits his immortality and becomes an adeptus. Now he and the baby will have to watch you die while they both life forever.
Either way...It hurts him to think about because he loves you!! He wants to have a family with you!! He wants to give you that perfect family life every human desires!! But he’s torn
You two will just have to figure it out.
Zhongli will be a strong, male figure for your kid(s) and he will instill that traditional kindness and respect into their behavior. ‘Please’ and ‘thank you’ always, always offer to help someone who needs it, do good deeds and you will feel accomplished, be the best you you can be, alway try your hardest because that’s all that matters
He will be sure that your kid(s) always feel loved ALWAYS. Zhongli will tell them stories, cook for them, take them to school, anything that needs to be done. When you’ve had a rough day, he’ll step in to take over for the night without being asked. He shows interest in everything your kid(s) like and he will do his damn best to display every piece of artwork they make or every pretty rock they find
He...will make a great dad :’)
Kaeya:
Ooooh brother, at first Kaeya says no he doesn’t want kids but...Then he starts thinking about it
He observes the happy families that walk around the cobblestone streets of Mondstadt, how the kiddos smile and laugh with their parents. He’ll patrol in the afternoons, usually rounding the corner just in time to see the city’s kids leave school for the day, watching as they all run down the street to go home to their parents or play in the fountain together...Yeah, that really warms his heart
He’d want one or two kids, preferably two to avoid an only child being lonely. He isn’t on the best terms with Diluc but he can admit that they had a great childhood together, playing at the winery and running around as brothers do
Kaeya would be a very patient, understanding father. He doesn’t have much of a temper so he’d use the kids’ mistakes as learning opportunities instead of getting upset at them
He would be obsessed with the kids when they’re babies though oh man if you thought you had baby fever, he has it times ten! He loves holding the baby, watching with a twinkling eye as his baby grasps his thumb with its tiny hand... adorable
And if your kids inherited his eyes, his star shaped pupils that his ancestors passed down to him...He’s gonna get emotional
Everyone at the knights’ headquarters and the Angel’s Share will get sick of him REALLY fast cause he won’t stop bragging about how cute and smart his kids are lmao
Diluc:
Diluc would be such a soft dad don’t even get me started
He loves you so much of course he wants to have kids with you! Is that even a question?? He won’t be the one to bring it up unless he gets the feeling that you want kids but once you ask, he’ll agree so fast
He’ll be grateful to even have one kid with you :’) and he’ll be fine with however many kids YOU want. You want one kid? Perfect! You want four? No problem, the manor is big enough for ten! You...you want ten...? Time to hire some more maids then lmao
Diluc is a worry wart though, he’ll be afraid to hold the baby, feed it, bathe it, he’s terrified of hurting the baby or the baby suddenly hating him. So just help him out!! Cause when he gets comfortable with the baby, he’ll be in full dad mode
He isn’t embarrassed to walk around the manor, conducting business with a baby strapped to his chest!
Diluc is a very kind, gentle dad who will always offer helpful solutions to the kiddos’ problems. He’ll make sure all of their needs are met while also trying to avoid spoiling them... Too much... There will be a fair amount of spoiling...
His own father wasn’t too affectionate with him so that’s why he’ll be affectionate with his kids! Hugs and kisses when he tucks them in at night, big dad hugs when they get home from school, holding their hands in the busy streets of Mondstadt. His father was a great dad! He just aims to be better.
Xiao:
Like Zhongli, he worries about the mortality thing. Since he’s an Adeptus, his kid will certainly be an Adeptus too if you have kids together.
He also worries that his kid(s) will hate him. His duty is to kill demons which means that rain or shine, holidays, special occasions, day or night he’s gotta be ready to go slaughter demonic beings. So he’ll inevitably miss out on important stages in the kiddos’ lives
And admittedly... He’ll be scared of his kids lmao
They’re screaming, crying, barfing, pooping, laughing, screaming again...He can’t predict their behavior. It’s unsettling. All of that goes away one night when you sit him down and place your sleeping baby in his arms. His eyes go wide...And he just watches. This tiny, little baby...Feels no fear for him. It’s comforted by his presence. He almost cries...ALMOST
He’s still pretty much the same Xiao we all know and love but now he has a kid. “Slaying demons is what I do...Hey, go back inside and finish your dinner. Yes, even your vegetables. I don’t care that you don’t like them-...Fine. Don’t tell your mother, bring them to me. I’ll eat them” cute :)
He’s a protective dad and husband, he’d never let anyone or anything harm his beloved family
Venti:
Venti....does not want kids. He thinks they’re cute! He likes the idea of kids but he knows he wouldn’t enjoy actually having kids
You two already have so much fun together!! You don’t need a kid!! You guys have dogs!! Dogs are like kids! But they’re more independent and they’re cuter!
He’ll feel bad if you want kids and he doesn’t, he really will! But it’ll be nearly impossible to convince him cause he’s made his mind up :/
Venti’ll make it up to you somehow though, he’ll take you out more and show you all of the adventures you guys can have if there aren’t kids around
But for the sake of fatherhood headcanons, let’s pretend he gave in. Venti would be a very caring dad. He would cuddle the hell out of this kiddo and sing to them :’) the only problem is that Venti doesn’t like being tethered to one place for too long so he tends to take off and not come back for a few days... :(
Albedo:
Albedo wants kids mostly just to see what fatherhood would be like. He’s always been curious about what that part of his life would be like so why not have a kid
He’d be good with one kid, two at most cause after practically raising Klee, he knows how some kids can be and...He doesn’t have the mental capacity for more than two kids at a time lmao
He tries his best to show more emotion in his face. We all know he usually sits like this 😐 and goes ‘wow im so happy right now’. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he was bored out of his mind right? So he’s gotta work on that. And when he musters up a smile for the baby and it smiles back at him????? Yeah...He’s gonna try to smile a lot more now
He definitely softens up once he becomes a dad, he shows emotion more than he used to and surprisingly, he takes time off of work. Shocker, I know! He decides that he’s been in the lab long enough and that he wants to be able to be there for these moments with you and his kid(s) :’) :’) He trusts Sucrose and Timaeus to take over for him for a couple hours
He keeps a journal for each kid and writes down the date and time they have their firsts or just interesting things they do ->
- 8/4: Baby sees and plays with a cat for the first time
- 9/5: Baby smacked me in the face and laughed so hard she threw up
-9/12: Baby learns that pulling my hair gets my attention. She now continues to do so
-10/15: Baby stays at Aunt Klee’s house for the first time
Baizhu:
Baizhu really loves kids, he works with them a lot and he considers Qiqi to be his daughter anyway but in terms of you guys having a kid together, with his condition he can probably only handle one kid running around
He will do his absolute best to be a good dad. Even if he feels like death, he’ll help change diapers, feed the baby, care for it when you need a break. He isn’t contagious so when you’re sleeping and he feels gross, he’ll sit back against the pillows with the baby on his chest, the three of you resting together (though he doesn’t fall asleep...that would be dangerous for the baby)
Baizhu already tends to nag at you about your health and lifestyle choices but now?? He’ll be a menace. He’ll be constantly evaluating your baby’s condition, checking to see if a certain food is giving them a rash or making sure their skin isn’t drying out. He’s hyper aware of your baby’s health and will be the one to treat them if they get sick
He’s a busy guy since he runs the pharmacy but he will always do his best to be present for your baby’s big milestones! And when your kid cries cause Baizhu’s medicine tastes like shit, he’ll do his best to not be disappointed in their reaction lmao
When you leave him alone with the baby, he’ll wrap a scarf around himself to tie the baby to his chest while he works and...he looks so cute :) dad baizhu <3 <3 <3 <3
Bonus points for him buying the baby toy medical equipment so he can get your kiddo interested in medicine :)
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ijwrsmff · 3 years
Note
Hello there
This one is a bit lengthy but can i please get headcanons of the straw hats reaction to an admiral reader(gender neutral please) who quits the marine to join them, and is at first is distrusted but does something to gain theirs trust
I hope it's not too much trouble
It's no trouble at all! I really like this idea, it was a ton of fun to write! I hope you enjoy it ^^
Luffy:
He found you during a fight with the marines
He noticed...you were so much stronger than the marines you were fighting with
Maybe not strong in comparison to Luffy...but he was extremely powerful so comparing to him isn’t fair
He saw you deal what should have been a finishing blow to his crewmates…
But for some reason you never hit them hard enough to kill them
Down them, sure...but never kill
He makes quick work of the other marines, and approaches you with a smile
“Join my crew!”
You looked at him baffled
“Quit the marines and throw away all my hard work to become an admiral because some...kid thinks I would be a good match for his crew? No thanks.”
Luffy left it at that, but knew he’d see you again soon
You encountered him once more at a nearby island
“Is...is that offer still on the table?”
He grinned wide and pulled you by your hand to his ship
He couldn’t put his finger on it...but something was special about you
He just knew the crew would love you
After they get over their initial distrust that is
But Luffy? He trusted you already
No hesitation, he knew you had a good heart and that’s what really mattered
Zoro:
He didn’t trust you...at all
He would go silent when you talked to him, giving you the silent treatment
He didn’t trust the marines...how was he supposed to know you weren’t there as a spy?
You tried to talk to him a couple times...but he just pretended he was sleeping
One day, he was up in the crow’s nest training and you walked in
“Mind if we spar? It’s been a while since I was able to.”
Since you left the marines
He huffed but gave a firm “sure”
He didn’t go easy on you, which surprised him when you handled yourself fairly well
You parried his attacks, and gave a few good jabs of your own
He respected your strength
He still won...but he expected to beat you within seconds
Not minutes, nearly half an hour of sparring
From then on, he’ll make small talk with you
Every once in a while he’ll go to take a nap and he’ll pull you down to lay beside him
He also sits next to you at the dinner table, even helping you fend off Luffy when he tries to steal your food
Overall...he respected strength. And if Luffy chose you...you were here to stay
Once he starts to trust you, he’ll protect you at all costs
Nami:
She trusts Luffy’s decision...but that doesn't mean she has to trust YOU
She won’t go out of her way to be mean...but she won’t help you if it means bending over backwards
She interrogates you, wanting to know why Luffy had chosen you
After days of interrogation on and off...she thinks she sees why
You were unhappy in the marines
Sure...you managed to become an admiral...but the happiness you had hoped to feel just wasn’t there
She discovered that in the short time you’ve been on this ship, you’ve felt happier than you ever did in the marines
She’ll be nicer after that, slowly building up her trust in you
“Want me to show you how I chart the islands we go to?”
Even if cartography wasn’t your thing, you figured it would help get you closer to Nami
After that, you would spend hours upon hours with Nami
She can be very...very protective
So once she trusts you, any comments about you that weren’t warranted she’d defend you
She wants to get closer to you, and spends the majority of her time with you
Either sitting on the deck or working on her maps
She even tells Sanji off if he starts to bother you, making the hearts in his eyes break
She’ll protect you...and she knows in her heart you’d protect her too
Usopp:
He is so...so scared of you at first
You were an ADMIRAL
How could you just give up that position to join a crew?
Doesn’t trust you for a good long while
He’s convinced you’re a spy
He lets his imagination get to him, and that drives a wedge between you two
You don’t blame him...the situation is sketchy, but you were genuine
You would spend all the time needed to get the crew to trust you
After only being with them a short period of time...you trusted them with your life
And that’s never happened before
In the marines...people wouldn’t go out of their way to save another if it meant getting hurt in the process
During battle, you stepped in front of Usopp and took a harsh blow, forming a long slash across your chest
After that...he’s significantly nicer to you
He visits you in the infirmary and looks...troubled
“What’s wrong Usopp?” You give him a concerned look
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you save me...you’re hurt now. Because of me.”
You smiled at him...so he did care
This was a good first step
Maybe eventually you can become even closer
Sanji:
He’s reluctant to trust you at first, but Luffy seems to see something in you…
Just like he saw something in him
So he tries to get closer to you, even going so far as to not flirt with you
Not until he got to know you better
The first time he really began to see the trust between you building was a regular day
Nothing particularly special about it, except you went into the kitchen while he was cooking
“Mind if I help?” It was your attempt to get closer to him
“Of course! Here, I need this mixed.”
You cooked together in relative silence, small talking every once in a while
Overall it was...nice
It was a bonding experience and he cherished it
That day, he sat next to you at the dinner table
You gave him a wide smile, which he returned
He would defend you to anyone who spoke ill of you after that
He could be quite protective, and it showed
Especially to Zoro, who made comments about your being a spy (which only made Usopp and Chopper panic more about the situation)
“Hey marimo! They don’t deserve the bullshit you’re throwing at them. Back off.”
“What are you gonna do about it, shitty cook?” A smirk formed on Zoro’s face
Oh dear...it looks like they’re fighting again
You went to speak up, but Nami stopped you
“They get like this sometimes. Though it’s impressive how quick Sanji was to take the bait this time...I think he likes you.” She gives you a wink and your face flushes
Who knows what the future will bring...all you know? Is that you made the right choice to join this crew
Chopper:
He wants to trust you...he really does
But the nagging fear of you hurting his crew is at the back of him mind
He avoids you, not wanting to risk getting hurt
Once you get injured in battle...he realizes how unfair it was that he did so
“I’m sorry y/n...you’re hurt. Please follow me to the infirmary.”
He keeps it relatively formal, only talking when he needed to do something to check on you
“Would you...come back in a couple days so I can check on the wound and how it’s healing?”
You gave him a smile “yes doctor! Thank you!”
“Hehe you don’t have to thank me I don’t deserve your thanks I was just doing what I’d do for any of our crew!” He swayed back and forth, his paws on his face as he smiled
You could swear you saw flowers around him…
After that, he invited you to play games with him, Usopp, and Luffy
While Usopp was still reluctant, Luffy was 100% on board
“Come on y/n! Play with us!” Chopper smiled up at you and...well...there’s no way you could say no to his adorable face
So you joined in
It was fun...more fun than you thought possible to have
You laughed as Chopper tagged you, and you spun around picking him up in a hug
“Chopper...thank you.”
He smiled and laughed, “for what? Tagging you?”
You shook your head, putting him down
“No...for being a good friend.”
And he was, he was your best friend. You grew closer to him in the days following and you were certain you made the right decision
Robin:
She knows what it’s like to not be trusted by the crew initially...but at least with her it was one pirate to another
You were a marine
And not just a marine...but an admiral
She is reluctant to trust you, but will give you the benefit of the doubt
She spends a lot of time with you, gauging if you’re a threat to her crew or not
She would sacrifice herself for any one of them...you’re no exception
She almost thinks its her JOB to determine if you’re a threat or not
It wasn’t until your first battle together that she finds she trusts you
You give her a look, and she knows to use her devil’s fruit
You both coordinate perfectly together, and it shows your trust
She has only battled so flawlessly with her crew...which means you’re entirely one of them now
She will defend you from that fight forward, and stands up for you when the others express their doubts
“Y/n? Would you like to read with me?” She pats the spot next to her and smiled at you
“Of course! What are we reading today?”
The two of you grow closer and closer, spending hours upon hours just...enjoying each other’s company
She looks at your smile and knows...she would do anything to keep that happy smile on your face
Franky:
He doesn’t trust you...but he doesn’t...NOT trust you
He’s reluctant to get close, but finds it’s really easy with you
He’s newer to the crew, but he trusts Luffy’s judgement
So he doesn’t have any reason not to give you a chance
He’ll spend time with you, requesting you sit in his workroom as he works on a specialized weapon for you
Over that time, you make a lot of small talk
It brings you closer together
“Y/n! What do you think?” He’ll say holding up your now finished weapon “Pretty super, right? Don’t you just love it?” He has a look of pride on his face that makes you grin
You take the weapon into your hands and feel the weight is perfect
Not light, but not overly heavy either
“Thank you Franky!” You jump up to hug him and miss seeing his face turn a dark crimson
“O-of course! Anything for a crewmate!” He hugs you back, lightly as if he’s afraid he’ll break you
This makes you laugh, “Franky...I was an admiral remember? I won’t break from a hug!”
“Well then...take this!” He lifts you up, spinning you around in circles
You both laugh, pulling each other closer and closer
Once he sets you down you see the fleeting color of pink on his cheeks
You were sure your face mirrored the same color
He knows in that moment he would protect you
Even if you didn’t need it
Maybe...protect isn’t the right word
It sounds so...one sided
“I’ll protect you...will you protect me?” He looks sheepish, almost as if he hated asking
You lean up and kiss his cheek
“I’ll protect you Franky. I’ll protect all of us...this crew...it’s special.”
He nods, knowing exactly what you meant
“Then we’ll protect each other.”
And it was settled
Brook:
As soon as you stepped onto the ship he approached you
“Your name is y/n...correct?”
“Yup! That’s me!”
He leaned down so your…”eyes” were level with each other
“Can I see your panties?”
SLAP
“...is that a no?”
It’s safe to assume...he doesn’t judge you for being an admirable
Though seeing some of the crew be distant from you...it only motivates him to speak to you more
You looked tired after playing with the crew on deck, so he approached you
“Would you like me to play you a song to help you sleep?”
You stared wide eyed, not knowing he was the musician on the ship
“Sure! Would you...maybe be able to teach me how to play an instrument?”
“Which instrument would you like to learn?”
You hummed, “I’m not sure. I’ll get back to you on that.”
And so he played you a song
It put not only you, but Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper to sleep
He would have grinned if he could, and looked over his crewmates with love
As he finished the song he looked at you once again
“Sleep well y/n...I’ll see you tomorrow.”
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bubblyhoney · 3 years
Note
can i request a fic where sapnap takes the reader to his hometown? like the classic going to places he went to when he was younger. maybe playgrounds and ice cream shops idk
places i used to go
warnings: language of course, an allusion to virginap, my uneducated guess of what sapnap was like in highschool, tiny detail of long haired!sapnap, singular canon detail of underage drinking, jokish about marriage
tags: sapnap x gn!reader
words: 2191
A/N: you are a god, anon. i love comfy and nostalgic fics like these and it was so fun to write. if you hate it dont tell me but if you like it lemme know akskdjd
inbox/requests: open
-
The wind whips fast on your bare fingers, cool and quick and raising goosebumps in its wake. You blink in the haze of the early sunset, head lolled to the side of the headrest. It feels good.
“That’s where I went to high school.” Sapnap interrupts your thoughts and points a finger at a collection of tall brick buildings down a side street. The silver of the lettering is dull, but you can still feel the nostalgia.
“And you’re about to see the park that me and my friends used to hang out at after work and—actually, nevermind.” His arm drops to the middle console and he looks straight ahead with slightly pinker cheeks.
“Do what?” You ask, voice all sweet, and a grin grows on your face. You turn towards him and wiggle your eyebrows.
“Nothing. Homework.” He avoids your eye contact and hikes his hand up higher on the steering wheel. “Anyways— Do you want to get some food before we head out? I know a great place.”
You two were just coming to a close on your little trip to visit his family; it was his step-mom’s birthday and you decided to make a week of it. It was your first long-term trip with Sapnap, and also your first time meeting his dad’s side of the family. You were proud to say she loved you. His little sister took a little more effort to talk to you of her own volition, but soon enough she was on your side.
You have a couple hours to kill before making your flight back home, so Sapnap has taken it upon himself to give you a quick tour of his hometown.
“Yeah,” you decide, bottom lip popped out. “Can we get ice cream after?”
“Uh, duh.” The Neighbourhood’s Stargazing starts through the speakers and he reaches to turn it down. “I’m so ready to get home and sleep.” He stretches his neck in his seat, letting out an uncharacteristically inappropriate grunt when his bones pop. You make a disgusted face, nose wrinkling, but stretch your own back, slumping down in the seat. The day had been full of packing up and this horrible hike his dad liked to do early in the mornings, so you two were pretty beat.
“Okay, we’re here,” he announces three sleepy minutes later in his best attempt at a whisper. Lifting your head off of the corner of your seat, you blink in the setting sunlight as a yawn splits your face. “You’re so cute.”
“Shut up,” you mumble, and struggle to get your seatbelt off in that post-nap haze. You’d barely been asleep for thirty seconds, damn it. The air is a swampy heat when you step out of the car onto rocky gravel and nearly twist your ankle climbing over the curb. Sapnap catches you by the lower back, trying to hide his laugh but failing miserably. You slide him a dirty look, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can manage while limping towards the front entrance.
The door jingles when you two breach the doorway, alerting a bored-looking hostess that the circus has arrived. She looks at Sapnap a second longer than she should, eyebrows screwed together in silent confusion. But she leads the two of you to a booth near a large window, handing you sticky menus and promptly fucking right off to the host station. She nearly runs.
“Do you know her?” You ask, inconspicuously hiding your face in the search for their 24/7 breakfast menu. You feel his eyes on you.
“Don’t think so.” He leans on one elbow and slides his phone out of his jeans’ pocket. In the 25 seconds it takes for you to find their french toast and sides menu, he has browsed and closed his phone with an animatedly shocked look on his face.
“What?” You give him a weird look and put down the menu.
“I totally went to homecoming with that girl.” He eyes the hostess. You glance over at her again, meeting her gaze, and offer a polite smile. She turns away quickly, eyes wide.
“She’s cute,” you say, voice high and fake, and he drums his fingers on the tabletop as an amused look makes its way onto his face.
“Are you—?”
“What?” You reply right back.
“Nothing.”
Thank God the server comes up to your table then and starts asking for drink orders, or else you’d have to admit (sheepishly) you were a tiny eensy-weensy bit annoyed. Only a tad. But after requesting a Dr. Pepper and a water the conversation surrounding the nervous-looking hostess dies.
“I’m so hungry I think I feel my stomach shrinking.” You flop your head onto your arm on the table top and make a whiny noise into the stack of napkins your server left at the table. Sapnap rubs his thumb into the side of your forearm, touch warm and nearly dissolving the pangs of hunger and jealousy.
“You weren’t hungry an hour ago.” He lifts your hand to his face and plants a kiss on the back of it. Oh, pulling out the big guns, huh? “I would have made you something.”
You tilt onto your chin, pouting, and stare up at his cute face. His cute, scruffy, perfectly-kissable face.
“I think I got hungry staring at you for half an hour.” A mischievous grin grows on your previously-petulant face and he just shakes his head.
“I do have that effect,” he admits with cockiness in his tone, lifting his eyebrows and leaning back into the booth with his lips pursed.
The server returns with two glasses and takes your food orders onto their little yellow notepad. You chug the water down when they leave for the kitchen, getting your lap and chin thoroughly wet in the process. Sapnap just snorts at you and shoves the napkins your way.
“So,” you start, patting dry your jeans. “tell me what you were like in high school.” You cross your arms and settle into the booth, smirk on your lips.
“What I was like?” He parrots, sipping at his soda, looking thoughtful. “Firstly, a virgin.” You make a noise. Duh. Dude had a buzz cut his junior year. (You’ve seen the pictures. His step-mom particularly likes them.) “Secondly, I was actually— well, I wasn’t popular, but I had a lot of friends. We were all semi-athletic lonely band kids but we had fun. Had one girlfriend senior year but she went to Cal Tech in the fall and I didn’t. I, um, worked at a Dairy Queen in the summers and gained so much weight I had to lose all over again for Unified Track.”
“Relatable,” you comment, drinking noisily at your water. He fiddles with the paper straw wrapper and crunches it up into a ball. It goes soaring into your drink with a quiet “Kobe” and you just give him a look. He smiles toothily right back at you. “Stop being cute, I’m trying to listen to your story.”
“Oh, my bad,” he mocks. “Anyways. That’s what I was like in highschool.” You fish the paper ball out of your water and flick it wetly at his arm. It sticks and you choke on a laugh, cheeks puffed.
Two plates of warm food are set down loudly onto the table and you thank the server with a surprised smile, Sapnap mirroring you.
Two minutes of wordless chewing passes, minds occupied just by “food, me eat” instead of anything related to your previous conversation. You realize that Sapnap is one of the loudest chewers ever, and he realizes that you fail to notice the streak of maple syrup in your hair.
“C’mere,” he mumbles through a mouthful of omelet and hash browns and beckons you with his hand. You lean closer, chewing slowly, as he pats a napkin at the strands of hair trapped in syrup.
“Thanks, baby.” You take the napkin from him and pause your assault of the warm french toast before you to clean the sticky sugar out of your hair. He just watches you, half of a smile on his lips.
You two finish your food in record time. It’s borderline vacuum-like. There’s a short grace period where you just sit like two lazy cats, slumped down in the booth and holding your full stomachs. But the check comes soon after, and you both pay your way and are out of the restaurant without any mad dashes for the bathroom. A miracle, really, because of the American-like amount of butter you both consume.
“I’m a much more functional person now,” you mutter into the cotton of his shoulder, swinging your hand in his. He just hums in agreement.
“I guess we’re not getting ice cream, then,” he teases, and you just groan in response.
“I don’t feel like having diarrhea on a plane, unfortunately.” You sigh heavily when you have to split and get into your respective sides of the rental car.
The entire trip (somewhat roundabout because of the amount of side quests to show you things from his childhood) to the airport Sapnap is a chatterbox. He’s like this when he has sugar: either bouncing off the walls with energy or talking your ear off.
“That’s where my dad proposed to my step-mom. I was kinda young but I remember being surprised at how big the ring was— dude broke the bank for her.” It’s a little gazebo you catch a glimpse of through the trees in a park. It probably was an incredibly picturesque moment, and you can sense how much she must have loved it. With just meeting them this weekend, you can already see how much love those two have for each other.
You hope people can see how much you love Sapnap.
“Oh my God, it’s still there.” He points out the side of your window to what looks like a Dairy Queen that has been through World War 3. “My buddy Eric and I once spilled a gallon of that liquid ice-cream-shit all over the men’s bathroom.”
You shoot him a horrified look. “Why was it in the bathroom?”
He just smirks.
“—And that’s my Uncle Ron’s house. Had my first beer there.”
“And last, hopefully,” you add, pulling a disgusted face. The two story bungalow is cute, and one of your favorite colors: olive green. “That shit is nasty.”
He just shrugs and continues down the side street.
“Is this the park you were talking about?”
He pulls into the gravelly parking lot of a small clearing of tall trees, a picnic table and campfire sat squat in the middle. But he doesn’t respond, just turning the car off and climbing out. He reaches the passenger door without speaking, and opens it for you. You climb carefully out, confused.
“Come on.” He takes your hand and starts for a small path to the left of the picnic table. The mid-sunset shade envelopes the both of you.
“I hope this isn’t where you kill me.”
“No,” he snorts. “I just wanted to show you something.”
It’s just a few moments of stumbling through the damp underbrush before you’re coming face to face with a small, mossy pond that sits right underneath an incredibly old willow tree. He stops right on the edge of the rocky path and turns toward you.
“This your make out spot?” You ask between a grin as he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush to him. Your innocent smile fades when you feel the press of his lips to the side of your neck, light and ticklish. Oh.
“No,” he murmurs, and just breathes you in. “I came here once—the night before I graduated highschool. And I told myself when I really really loved someone I’d take them here with me.” He sways with you in his grasp, a gentle and song-less dance.
You grip his shoulder tighter in your hand and lean into him.
“That’s— awfully romantic, huh?” Your voice is quiet. Almost nervous. He just makes a noise of agreement.
“So here we are.” His voice is the opposite of yours, all strong and confident.
You two just move together for a moment. The sun breaks through the tree canopy, shining bright orange down onto the glassy surface of the pond. Crickets and frogs chirp back and forth as the willow vines swing in a cool evening breeze. You watch nature come alive around you, suddenly grateful for the man in your arms.
“Don’t propose,” you whisper, breaking the gentle tension. A laugh breaks the silence and he’s pulling away to look at you. Maybe in disbelief. A strand of hair falls into his eyes and you brush it away, fingers stilling on his temple and sliding down onto his cheek. Stubble scrapes against the skin of your palm and he stares at you through those meadow eyes.
You realize in that moment that he is exactly himself. Of course he is. He’s Sapnap, and everything that encompasses that. Dark and light and fiery and cool. He always has been, and always will be.
You realize you wouldn’t mind if he proposed.
-
A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. let me know what you think
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kurokoros · 4 years
Text
liar liar | bakugou katsuki
Rated: M
Words: 9.4K
Pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader
Summary: Of all the things he’s experienced working as a Pro Hero, Bakugou never expected his dick getting too big to ever be a problem, let alone one in his top ten.
Bakugou is hit with a strange quirk. You reap the benefits.
AN: This fic is 50% crack and 50% raunchy smut. I have zero explanations for this. Also big thanks to @lady-bakuhoe for ranting with me once about the fandoms weird level of hatred towards Bakugou, thus inspiring me to write something for him. I’m so sorry it was this.
Warnings: smut, language, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub undertones, rough sex, degradation, spanking, choking, inappropriate use of quirks
***
Of all the things he’s experienced working as a Pro Hero, Bakugou never expected his dick getting too big to ever be a problem, let alone one in his top ten.
Kirishima glances at him out of the corner of his eye as they step into Bakugou’s office, red eyes narrowing in concern as he sees Bakugou’s gritted teeth and clenched fists. “Are you sure you’re okay, bro?” he asks, a little hesitant.
“I’m fine,” Bakugou practically snarls between his teeth. Fuck. The tingling sensation starts in his gut, heat spreading through his limbs, and he nearly swears aloud as the sensation shifts to his dick, his boxer-briefs getting uncomfortably tighter. Shit, he’s probably up to at least another inch by now. Thank god his pants are baggy.
Unfortunately, Kirishima isn’t so easily convinced. Brows furrowing, he looks Bakugou over slowly, searching for any lasting effects from their earlier scuffle with a few low rank villains. “You’ve been acting kind of… strange,” he settles on after an awkward beat of silence, “since you got hit by that quirk. You know, you probably should have gone to a—”
“I said I’m—” Bakugou cuts himself off as that tingle comes back. “I’ll be fine,” he corrects himself. The tingle goes away, and he almost groans in relief as his dick returns to its normal size. “Drop it, Kirishima.”
Kirishima holds his hands up in front of him, placating his huffy friend. “Okay, okay. I get it.” He backs off, still eyeing Bakugou warily as he pulls his phone from his pocket. He glances at the time. “Look, man, I gotta go. I have a date in twenty, and she’s gonna kill me if I’m late again.” His smile is apologetic, but exhausted.
“Whatever.” Bakugou tosses off one of his gauntlets, letting it clatter against the floor noisily. Breathing slowly through his nose, he peels off his mask as well, setting it down on his desk. It’s fine. Everything is fine. He can handle this. It’s just a really fucking annoying quirk that’ll probably go away on it’s own by the end of the day.
Another tingle stirs in his gut, and then his underwear tightens again.
Fuck. He can’t even lie to himself.
Just as casually as before, Kirishima says, “Yeah, and since I figured you shouldn’t be alone, I called you a babysitter,” as he types out a quick text on his phone. If that wasn’t bad enough, Kirishima calls out your name in a sing-song voice.
Bakugou drops his other gauntlet on his foot and whirls around. “You what?” he hisses, only half because of the pain. The sound of your name definitely doesn’t cause his heart to do something stupid like flutter in his chest. And his pants definitely don’t get snug around his crotch as he blatantly lies to himself. “Kirishima, what the fuck? Why would you call her?”
Taken aback by the outburst, Kirishima puts his phone away and shrugs. “I figured she’d make you feel better.”
“I don’t fucking want her here,” Bakugou tells him. Nothing happens in his pants. Like the bullshit quirk affecting his dick can’t decide if that’s a lie or not. Hell, Bakugou isn’t really sure either. Sure, he likes having you around, even if he’d never admit it. He likes seeing your pretty smile as you come flouncing into his office wearing one of those little skirts that make him want to bend you over his desk and—
He squeezes his eyes shut, banishing the thought before it can go any further and his pants grow any tighter from non-quirk related reasons.
On the other hand, you’re quite possibly the last person he ever wants to see him like this. Too bad the universe seems intent on fucking him over today.
“Nice to see you too, Bakugou.” 
The sound of your voice hits him like a lightning strike, still sweet despite the sarcastic inflection of your tone. Bolts of electricity shoot up his spine. In his chest, his heart pounds viciously against his ribs, and Bakugou’s shoulders tense as every one of his senses suddenly becomes a tune to you. Even from across the room, the scent of your perfume tickles at his nose—something floral or fruity that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s heavy and enticing and he tries not to shiver as it wraps around him.
He doesn’t dare turn to look at you as you take a step further into his office, determinedly staring at the wall and hoping you’ll leave with Kirishima. Yeah, un-fucking-likely.
When his silence persists, you roll your eyes and turn to Kirishima instead, the pinched expression on your face relaxing into a pleasant smile when you meet the eyes of the more friendly half of the duo. “Thanks for calling, Kiri,” you say, smoothing out your skirt.
A wide grin is the response you get. “Of course,” Kirishima says, stretching out and linking his fingers behind his head. “Figured he’d listen to you over anyone else.” He ignores the glare Bakugou sends his way, his lips twitching in amusement at the stark silence coming from the explosive blond.
You scoff. “Hardly, but I’ll try.” Casting a glance at Bakugou, you’re a little glad he seems intent on ignoring you, because it gives you the perfect opportunity to give him a slow once-over—for injuries, of course. He looks fine to you, a few superficial scrapes and bruises, but nothing severe enough for Kirishima to call you.
The tension in his shoulders is the first thing you notice. Bakugou is awkwardly hunched over himself in a way that isn’t like him at all. Usually, the Pro Hero exudes confidence that would border on cockiness if he didn’t have the skills to back it up, but right now he just looks... uncomfortable. What little of his face you can see is pinched, but not in annoyance; it’s more like pain, you realize, but then his expression melts into one of relief and you’re left baffled once again.
Before you can think too hard about it, your gaze wanders lower and you’re promptly distracted by his bare arms.
Kirishima clears his throat when you stare at Bakugou’s biceps a little too long.
“What happened anyway?” you ask, turning back to Kirishima. Your face feels warm, and by the way he grins you can tell he notices your faint blush. “You didn’t say much on the phone.”
He sobers a little as you bring the conversation back to the other Hero. The humor bleeds from his eyes, his shoulders drooping. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t have much time. We ran into a couple of villains on patrol. One of them caught Bakubro off guard and he got hit with their quirk. Wouldn’t let anyone check him out after.” He shrugs halfheartedly, looking at you apologetically. “You know how he gets.”
Don’t you ever. You’ve never met someone as stubborn as Bakugou before in your life. He can be a real pain in the ass when he wants, and you can’t blame Kirishima for his best friend being a dumbass.
You prop your hands on your hips, eyes narrowing in on Bakugou again. “How long has he been sulking?” you ask just loud enough for Bakugou to hear you.
Ruby eyes pin you with a heavy glower that would probably make anyone else piss themselves. Bakugou’s lip pulls back in a snarl, his teeth bared, and you ignore the pleasant tingle that shoots down your spine. “I’m not fucking sulking!” he snaps at you, making your eyes roll.
“Sure you aren’t.” Before he can start arguing with you, you turn back to Kirishima. “What do we know about this quirk?” 
“Nothing. Cops are questioning the guy now, but he’s not talking.” Kirishima gestures to Bakugou with his thumb. “And Ground Zero here keeps saying he’s fine.”
Across the room, Bakugou grumbles to himself under his breath, noticeably displeased with your lack of attention, but like hell he’s going to say anything about it. Jealousy is a bitter taste in the back of his mouth, and for once he can’t even pretend that’s not what it is as his glare shifts to Kirishima. Fuck, he wants you to look at him again. Pay attention to him.
The honesty is surprising to him, but he keeps his mouth shut and definitely doesn’t pout as you and Kirishima continue to chat like he isn’t even there. When it becomes clear that you aren’t going to end the conversation immediately, Bakugou huffs and turns around, glaring as he leans back against his desk, watching the two of you. His gaze skips right over Kirishima and lands on you, and he swallows back a frustrated groan when he finally gets a good look at you.
Fuck, you look good today. Unable to help himself, he’s absolutely shameless as he stares at your legs, your short skirt and high heels making them look even longer than usual. Bakugou grits his teeth as his mind drifts to those legs wrapping around his hips and yanking him closer. For once, he allows the thought to linger, lost in his own head.
“I see,” you murmur as your conversation with Kirishima comes to a close. With your lips pursed in thought, your gaze shifts back to Bakugou, only to find him already staring right back at you, watching you intently. Your pulse jumps under his piercing gaze, and it takes everything in you to break eye contact with him and smile at Kirishima instead. “I’ll take care of it. Have fun on your date, Kiri.”
Kirishima shoots you a megawatt smile and a thumbs up.“Will do! Good luck with this guy!” He pays no attention to Bakugou’s grumbling as he heads out the door, closing it quietly behind him, leaving you and Bakugou alone together in an office far away from other people.
Yeah, this should be fun.
You twist on your heels so that you’re facing Bakugou directly. Trying for a charming smile, you prop your hands on your hips. He glares at you and crosses his arms over his chest, clearly not planning on cooperating. And boy does it give you an excellent view of his muscled forearms, all tanned skin and silver scars from years of hero work. You wet your lips, suddenly thirsty. 
“Okay, Ground Zero,” you start, giddily noticing the way he puffs up at your use of his hero name, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong or do we have to do this the hard way?” Your voice lowers at the end, coming out as a husky whisper.
Bakugou’s throat bobs with a harsh swallow, and he grits his teeth against the pleasant warmth that curls in his chest. “Piss off,” he bites out, a low and dangerous edge to his voice that you easily ignore.
If you hadn’t known him for years, maybe it would be intimidating, but despite his gruff attitude and biting tone, you know he would never lay a hand on you. “Come on, Bakugou,” you try again, taking a step towards him as a small pout forms on your lips. “Please tell me? I just want to help and make you feel better.”
The breathy whine you let out paired with you wanting to make him feel better does absolutely nothing to help the situation going on in his pants.
His gaze slides to the side, avoiding your eyes as he tells you to “Just go home,” because he doesn’t want to see the disappointment there.
But you don’t back down. You can be just as stubborn as him when you want to be, and there’s no way in hell you’re leaving just so he can cling to his manly pride, or whatever it is he’s worried about. Clearly, asking nicely isn’t going to work. Honestly, you’d be more surprised if it did. “Hard way it is.”
Bakugou’s eyes widen, and his head snaps towards you just in time for you to launch yourself at him. It’s a bit difficult, between your skirt and heels, but you catch him off guard, and that helps. He tries to twist away at the last second, leaving you to cling to his back, limbs wrapping around him tightly. A surprised grunt escapes his at your sudden weight on him, but he doesn’t even stumble, letting you curl your body around him in a one-sided hug.
“Get off me, loser,” he growls at you, glaring at you over his shoulder. Despite his irritation, Bakugou makes no move to shake you off. In fact, one of his big hands latches onto your leg when you start to slip, allowing you to shift yourself for a better grip. He lets go of you just as quickly, standing stock still in the middle of the room while glaring at everything that isn’t you.
Your fingers dig into his shoulder where you’re grabbing him. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”
This time, he does try to shake you off, and you squeal as your grip starts to slip. “I’m fine!” he snaps at you, only to wince a second later.
Ever the opportunist, you don’t think twice before hooking your leg around him and going for his knees. Bakugou swears as he loses his balance, and somehow you manage to knock him to the floor using a grappling move that he taught you. He ends up rolling in time to land on his back, cushioning your fall aa your knees press against the floor on either side of his hips, straddling him as you pin him with a firm look. Long fingers grasp at your upper thighs, his thumbs grazing the hem of your skirt, and he lets you go just as quickly, as if you’ve burned him
Bakugou looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, but, again, he makes no move to shove you away, though he definitely could.
“Oh, yeah, clearly you’re just fine,” you reply, sarcasm laid on thick. Your hands are pressed against his chest for balance as you regain your bearings, and you can feel the angry breath he takes. Bakugou is warm and solid beneath you, hips pressed snug against yours. It feels way too good, but that’s not what you need to be thinking about at this moment. “Now stop acting like a baby and tell me what’s going on.”
Looking up at you, Bakugou sighs when your fierce look doesn’t relent. He mutters something under his breath that’s too low for you to make out clearly, then grimaces. “It’s nothing,” he tells you again, a harsh edge to his voice.
You pin him with a glare. “You got hit by a strange quirk, Bakugou,” you tell him slowly, contempt dripping from every word. “That’s not nothing.” The crack in your voice on the last word is what makes him drop the sour look on his face. You wince, fingers curling tighter around his shirt, like that might keep you grounded. All the fear you felt when Kirishima called you earlier comes surging back through you, and it feels like a blow to the ribs. You stare at his chest as you continue, the words bubbling up and out before you can stop them. “I know you. You’re too damn prideful to go see a doctor and admit something is wron—and that scares me sometimes, you know? One day you could get really hurt.” Slowly, you force your eyes up, meeting his stare with your own tentative one. “Please, just tell me what’s wrong. For me?”
Bakugou’s expression softens nearly an imperceptible amount. His glare smooths out. “Fuck,” he growls under his breath, trying to ignore the violent tug on his heartstrings that comes with that pleading look in your eyes. He’s always been a sucker for you, and you damn well know it too.
But he’s not going to give in this time.
The tingle that goes straight to his crotch proves him very wrong.
You freeze above him, body locking up as something big and hard presses against your inner thigh. “Katsuki,” you say, forcing yourself not to react aside from the widening of your eyes. “Is that your…”
“Yeah,” he replies, jaw clenched. His tone is nothing short of mocking when he tacks on, “You’re sitting on my cock, sweetheart.”
Well, shit. You blink at him owlishly, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as you try to think of literally anything to say in this situation that isn’t stupid, crass, or a blatant change of subject. It’s surprisingly hard to think with his bulge pressed up against your leg like this, and you blurt the first thing that comes to mind. “Are you turned on right now?” you ask incredulously, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I swear to God, Katsuki, I’m trying to be serious here, and you—”
He cuts you off. “I’m not fucking hard.” A pair of big, rough hands latch onto your thighs to keep you from squirming over his lap. “But if you keep moving around like that, I will be.”
“You liar.” A gasp sticks in your throat as he tightens his grip on your legs. By this point, you’re pretty sure you’re blushing, but honestly, you can’t find it in you to care when you are, in fact, basically sitting on his lap. Besides, Bakugou doesn’t look that much better. “If you were that big while soft, I’m pretty sure I would have noticed by now.”
Well that catches his attention. A smug smile stretches across his face. All teeth. “You spend a lot of time looking at it, angel?” Oh, this time he’s definitely mocking you. The palms of his hands slide up your thighs until his fingertips graze the hem of your skirt where it’s hiked partway up your legs, revealing a few tantalizing inches of your bare skin.
“Oh, no, you aren’t changing the subject,” you snap at him, sitting up a little straighter. “Why the hell is your dick so big, and what the fuck is going on?”
Your questions echo awkwardly through the otherwise silent room. For a tense moment, Bakugou just glares up at you. One of his eyes twitches slightly, his lips turned down in a grimace. You don’t relent, glaring right back at him. Eventually, one of you is going to have to give in, and it’s sure as shit not going to be you this time.
“Fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut and tilts his head back against the floor. His fingers bite into your thighs when you shift on top of him, leaning a little closer. “It’s that dumbass villain’s quirk,” he sneers, baring his teeth in a snarl as he opens his eyes again. There’s nothing that could possibly prepare you for what he says next. “When I lie my cock gets bigger.”
You almost laugh. Almost. The deathly serious look in his eyes is the only thing that keeps you from bursting into a fit of giggles. And you believe him. You probably wouldn’t if you weren’t currently straddling his lap and sitting on his abnormally large cock. But, yeah. Sure. His dick gets bigger when he lies, and somehow that makes perfect sense.
“What, like some kind of kinky lie detector?” You almost suggest Pinocchio, but you doubt he’d take that well at all. 
Predictably, he makes a face at your comparison. “Sure. Whatever.”
Again, neither of you say anything, letting an awkward silence develop between you. While Bakugou just looks all around uncomfortable with the situation, your brow is pinched in thought. Honestly, this quirk seems like some bullshit. You can’t imagine what benefit anyone would get out of making someone’s dick grow when they lie, aside from the exact situation you’re currently in. You almost feel worse for the poor sap stuck with such a bizarre quirk than the Pro Hero currently lying between your legs.
A full body shiver runs through you, and every nerve suddenly becomes highly aware of the man beneath you. Every breath he takes moves his chest beneath your hands, and you can feel the rapid beating of his heart beneath your palm. The tips of his fingers ghost against your thighs, not quite touching you, like he isn’t sure what to do with his hands anymore. And, suddenly, all you can think about are those hands grabbing you by the hips and grinding you down against him.
Unbeknownst to you, similar thoughts are wreaking havoc on Bakugou. From where you’re sitting on top of him, he has a perfect view of your legs and chest, and every time you shift, the movement goes straight to his cock. He almost hisses between his teeth as your thighs tighten around his hips, which only presses the growing bulge in his pants harder against you. His fingers twitch against your legs. It would be so easy for him to roll the two of you over, pin you beneath him, and show you exactly what you do to him. Fuck you senseless until you—
“What are you thinking right now?”
The question is like a hard slap across the face. His eyes snap from the apex of your legs to your face, caught red-handed. There’s no way for him to get out of this one without his dick giving him away or an actual slap across the face. He chooses his traitor dick. “That I want you to get the fuck off me.”
You look entirely unimpressed when his dick moves between your legs, growing larger in seconds. “Liar,” you deadpan. You drum your fingers against his chest, unintentionally matching the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Tell me the truth and maybe I’ll move.” Nevermind that he could definitely throw you across the room one handed if he really wanted to. Frankly, you’re a little surprised he hasn’t already, given your current situation. 
Not that you want to move right now. You’re quite comfortable where you are.
Bakugou’s tongue swipes across his bottom lip. Those ruby eyes drag down your body slowly, shamelessly drinking in the sight of you sitting on top of him. An unexpected lick of run runs along your spine; your breath catches. “You look really fucking sexy right now,” he tells you, and his hands grab your thighs again.
It takes a second for you to register his confession, though you can’t say you’re that surprised. “Huh. Never pegged you as a guy who wanted someone on top.” You can work with that.
His brow furrows. “You know, you’re taking this surprisingly well.”
“I work in quirk registration for the police,” you remind him, shrugging. “This isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve come across.” Honestly, you aren’t even sure it makes the top ten, but you keep that to yourself. You get the feeling he’d take that as some kind of challenge, and you don’t need that kind of stress in your life. “How long has it been like this?”
A shrug. “Shit, I don’t know.” Bakugou shifts beneath you, craning his neck to look at the clock on the wall. “Thirty minutes, maybe. Why?”
“Effects from quirks like this typically only last an hour or two,” you explain. “Maybe twenty-four hours at most, depending on how much training the user has.” Your head cocks to the side as you give him an entirely unsubtle once-over. “It sounds like he didn’t give you and Kirishima much trouble though. I’d put your... little problem at an hour and a half maximum. You should be fine.”
There’s a wicked look in his eyes. “Nothing little about it, babe.” His palms slide up your legs, rucking up your skirt even higher on his way to grab your hips. “Hour left, huh?” A low hum rumbles through his chest. “I can work with that.”
You freeze. “Katsuki, what are you—”
“Look,” he cuts you off with an irritated sigh, “I’ve liked you for a long time, so if you want to fuck right now, that’s fine with me.” Heartbreaking honesty shines in his eyes, only partially masked by a layer of annoyance and boredom, like he doesn’t care either way. The way his fingers dig into your hips tells a different story.
Your eyes widen at his crass confession, your lips parting as you stare down at Bakugou in shock. “Are you…” you hesitate, swallowing down the sudden lump in your throat as your fingers curl against his shirt. “Are you serious?”
Bakugou glares at you, but his faint blush gives him away. “You’re the one sitting on my magic cock, you tell me.”
You sit there for a good minute, just staring at him, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as you try to think of any kind of response. Eventually, you settle on, “That is, by far, the worst declaration of love I’ve ever heard.”
If you thought he was glaring before, it has nothing on the look he levels you with now. “Who fucking said anything about loving you, dumbass?” he snaps, huffing, cheeks turning an even darker shade of pink. “Like hell I do!” He grits his teeth as his dick tingles.
“Yeah, well, your magic cock reveals your deceit,” you mock him. “You’re such an emotionally stunted pain in the ass, Katsuki!” 
He opens his mouth—probably to start yelling about something—but you lurch forward and meet his mouth in a fierce kiss before he can say anything. He grunts in surprise and squeeze your hips, but kisses you back eagerly, immediately tilting his chin for a better angle. The hands that were on your hips don’t hesitate to move. One slides up your back to fist in your hair, pulling you closer as the other drops to your ass. A hard grope makes you gasp against his lips, your fingers clenching tighter in the front of his hero suit.
Before things can get too heavy, too fast, you pull back, leaving just an inch of space between your lips. He doesn’t let you go much further. “I like you, too,” you whisper against him. He stiffens as your fingers touch his bare chest where his hero suit doesn’t cover him.
His heart is pounding just as quickly as yours, and he’d never admit it, but he swears your little confession does something funny to his chest. All of it does. The heat of your breath. The gentle weight of your body on top of his. Something about you makes him feel inexplicably soft, and he wants to hate that feeling, but he still can’t lie to himself without his cock growing two sizes. And if he’s going to stuff you full of his cock, he wants it to be all him.
At least at first.
With the hand still tangled in your hair, Bakugou yanks you back down. Your lips mold against his perfectly, the space left between you nonexistent. When he kisses you it’s all teeth and tongue, and your lips part readily beneath his demanding touch. He makes a low sound of approval in the back of his throat, slotting his lips harder against yours. Using the hand cupping the back of your head, he adjusts you above him, tilting your chin until he finds a position he likes.
The dominating way he touches you makes you keen, and your quiet whimper is smothered by his tongue delving into your mouth to taste you. Your legs tremble on either side of his hips as the hand on your ass gropes you again. By now, your skirt is hiked halfway up your waist, and if anyone were to walk in they’d get a perfect view of your ass and the damp spot forming between your thighs.
You arch into his touch at the thought, moaning as his teeth tug at your lip.
By the time you pull away, you both have kiss-swollen lips.
When Bakugou recalls what you called him a moment ago, he chuckles, deep and throaty, and it sends a thrilled shiver up your spine. “I’ll show you a real pain in the ass later, sweetheart,” he promises, squeezing your ass cheek for good measure. The squeeze is followed by a sharp slap, and you lurch forward, a startled squeal slipping out of your mouth.
You glare down at him. Well, you try to. It’s a little hard to pretend to be mad at him when his hand comes up to rub the spot where he smacked you, which only presses your hips closer to his growing bulge. Your tone is dry when you say, “I’m sure you will.” And then, because he’s already propositioned you and has his hand on your ass, you grind yourself against his dick.
“Shit,” he grunts, grabbing your hips. His fingers bite into your skin, twitching like he doesn’t know if he wants to still you or shove you down on his cock. A slow exhale hisses through his teeth. “You tryin’ to be a cock tease?”
The satisfaction that bubbles up in you only feeds the damp heat between your legs. He’s hardly touched you, but you can already feel yourself getting wet just from the thought of him filling you. You brace yourself against him, palms pressed flat against his chest. “You want me to stop?” Purposefully fluttering your eyelashes at him, you slowly work your hand lower, fingers grazing over lean muscle until you stop at his waist, pressing down on his belt.
As your eyes start to follow the path of your hand, Bakugou reaches out and grabs your chin. A warning squeeze makes you mewl expectantly. “Keep talking, baby, and I'll put that mouth to better use.” The pad of his thumb traces your bottom lip. Before he can let go, you tilt your head into his touch, teeth barely grazing his finger as you nip at him. “Such a little brat,” he sneers. 
You’re thrown off balance when he sits up. His abdominal muscles flex against your stomach as he crushes you against his chest, and your hands fly to his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto. Bakugou kisses you again, lips hungry and demanding as they press against yours, and you give him complete control. He tilts your chin, pulls your hair, bites your lips, and every touch makes you feel hazy and warm.
Anticipation churns in your stomach. Your hands slide over his shoulders, looping around his neck. He grunts when your wrist brushes against the side of his neck, and when you card your fingers through his hair and tug, he lets out a sound that goes right to your core.
The hand on your ass gives you another sharp spank. The motion jerks your hips against his, and you grind down against the hard cock rubbing your inner thigh. His fingers knead your ass and the back of your thigh, groping and squeezing and helping your hips along as you rock languidly over his lap. Each roll of your hips has his cock dragging across your damp panties, the head kissing your clit through the layers of your clothes. You shudder, lost in the feeling.
You’re only half aware of him moving, not noticing until the hand that was in your hair slips beneath your shirt to palm your breast. An appreciative squeeze has you arching into him, hips stuttering against his. Bakugou nips at your bottom lip hard enough to make you whimper, and when he pulls away you’re sure it’s swollen and flushed from his treatment.
But he doesn’t leave you for long. You’re barely given a moment to breathe before his mouth is on your jaw, your cheek, your chin. Bakugou trails heated, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, only stopping when he finds a spot that has you lurching against him, a pretty little moan falling from your mouth. He laves attention to that spot, right over your racing pulse. Teeth dig into your sensitive neck, and your breath catches in your throat as he begins to suck, intent on leaving a mark. You don’t stop him as he works a hickey just below your jaw, eyes fluttering shut at the onslaught of sensation. 
Before leaving that spot, he drags his tongue across your neck to soothe the bruise he’s left behind.
Desire curls in your chest as a thought comes to mind, and you’re too slow to stop it from spilling out. “I wanna touch you,” you choke out as his mouth trails lower. Bakugou pauses, lips hovering just shy of your throat. The heat of his breath fans your damp skin, sending little pinpricks of electricity all the way to where your hips are grinding against his. You swallow, one hand fisting in the back of his shirt as his thumb brushes against the lacy cup of your bra.
“Already are, baby,” he says, partly muffled by your neck as he ghosts his lips against you. “Grinding against my cock like a little slut. Gonna get yourself off for me just like that?” He’s hiding a smirk. It’s clear what you want by the way your hips roll against his faster, grinding down harder as teasing touches turn desperate, but he wants to hear you say it. He wants you begging for his cock before he fucks you.
He ruts against you, alternating between squeezing your breast and ass. 
“Bakugou!” You try to sound reprimanding, but his name comes out as a breathy whine. There’s no way for you to get your hand on him with the way he has you pressed flush against his chest. And he’s definitely not going to make things easy for you.
As if he knows what you’re thinking, the man beneath you laughs. “You want it that bad, you better take it yourself, sweetheart.”
Huffing, you try to put some space between your hips, but his grip is firm. Bakugou swats your ass when you try to move, and you whimper as it forces your hips harder against his. You try a second time, and he pinches your nipple through the flimsy cup of your bra. Your head falls back with a moan, giving him greater access to your throat, and he smirks as he bites down on your soft skin.
Fine. You can play this game, too.
With a sharp grind of your hips, you rub your clit against him just right. Your back arches. Your thighs tense around his hips. “Ground Zero,” comes out as a needy whine against his ear. You feel him tense beneath you, his grip faltering for just a second. That’s all you need.
The momentary distraction is all you need to slide back on his thighs, putting just enough space between your hips to grab his belt and grind the heel of your hand against the massive bulge straining against his pants. Even through his pants you can feel how thick and long he is, and your pussy clenches at the thought of him fucking you senseless.
He grunts as you palm him, squeezing gently as you trace the outline of his cock. His mouth leaves your neck with a wet pop. “Shit,” Bakugou murmurs. Soft strands of his spiky hair tickle the side of your neck as he rests his head against you, reveling in the feel of your light touches.
Your fingers brush against the back of his neck, your palm grinding against him when his hips rock forward. Strong muscles flex beneath your thighs. Bakugou’s throat bobs with a harsh swallow. 
Unable to stop yourself, you duck your head, pressing your lips against the side of his neck. It’s hard to find an angle with the bracers around his neck, and your attention turns to the front of his throat instead. Bakugou groans as you kiss him, lovebites and lipstick stains left in the wake of your mouth. He lets you kiss and nip your way down to his collarbone.
Thank god for the low cut of his shirt, you think, biting down on his chest hard enough to leave a mark. At the same time, your fingers grasp at his belt, nearly snapping the buckle in your hurry to get your hand on him. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware of him saying something—calling you needy or naughty, you aren’t sure which—but you don’t care as you finally get your hand in his pants and grab his dick.
“You’re so big,” you murmur, eyes widening. The tips of your fingers don’t touch as you wrap your hand around his cock, stroking him languidly from base to tip. You can’t get a good look at him from your position, but you can feel every ridge and vein of his shaft, and you bite your lip at the sheer girth of him. “Is this from the quirk?” you ask him, swirling your thumb over the tip before dragging your hand back down, giving him a firm squeeze. You lean back a little, wanting to look at him, but Bakugou lurches forward to get his mouth on you again.
He groans against your ear, pressing a harsh kiss against the side of your jaw. “All me, babe,” he tells you, smug. For once, you really can’t blame him for being cocky. “Fuck, that feels good.” 
The way your soft hand slides against his shaft wrecks havoc on his brain, and Bakugou presses another heated kiss to your neck to smother a loud moan. He’s already painfully sensitive from having you hump his lap, and your tentative touch only makes him harder. And that damn quirk didn’t help at all. After over a half hour of that bullshit cock tease, he’s just aching to bury himself in your dripping pussy.
Your thumb traces the thick vein on the side of his cock, pressing against it gently before twisting your hand. The sudden change in angle and the way you squeeze him have a low sound tearing from his chest, and then your hand is being yanked out of his pants. Bakugou’s fingers clench around your wrist in a vice grip, and you wince at the mild sting.
“Get up,” he demands, nearly growling. His fingers are digging into your ass hard enough to leave faint bruises, but you don’t care. When you hesitate, he releases you only to slap the back of your thigh. “Now.”
You pussy clenches at the pain that quickly dissolves into pleasure. “What’s wrong, Katsuki,” you can’t help but tease, hoping to get a reaction out of him, “afraid you’ll cum too fast?”
He doesn’t spank you again, though his palm does press against your reddening ass cheek in a way that speaks of a warning. “Don’t make me tell you again, baby.”
It takes another second before you shift off his lap, your legs quivering as you stand. You almost consider ignoring the command. Almost. But it doesn’t take much for you to decide you’d rather see what he has planned for you.
Your thighs rub together as Bakugou rises from the floor in one fluid motion, years of training making him silent, almost catlike. He reaches for you as soon as he’s standing, towering over you, an imposing figure. The scattering of small marks on his throat makes you grin, but the smile is wiped from your face as he grabs your chin roughly between his fingers and forces you to meet his eyes.
Ruby red and blown wide with lust, the look in his sharp gaze makes your breathing hitch. A wet crackling sound leaves your mouth as your lips part for him. His thumb grazes your bottom lip. “Such a dirty fucking mouth,” he growls.
You stumble a little as he starts walking you backwards, not touching you aside from the firm grip he has on your jaw. You go willingly, eyes on his. Excitement has your stomach flipping, a nervous flutter in your belly, and you gasp when your back hits the side of his desk, the cold wood pressing against your skin where he’s tugged at the hem of your shirt. 
Bakugou’s thumb delves past your lips, dipping into your wet mouth, and your lips wrap around him greedily. Sucking gently, your teeth press against his skin possessively, tongue laving attention to his thick digit. With his free hand, Bakugou grabs the front of your plain blouse and yanks it open, careful not to rip any of the buttons. You let your shirt fall to the floor, wriggling a little as it sticks around your elbows. He reaches up to palm your breast, humming in approval once he sees your pretty bra.
“Get on your knees, baby,” he tells you, pulling his thumb from your mouth and smearing your spit across your lips, watching them glisten. “I want to see your mouth on my cock.”
You do as you’re told, practically shaking with anticipation as you drop to your knees for him. Now that you’ve gotten a feel for his cock, you’re desperate to have him inside you. Your mouth. Your pussy. It doesn’t matter which. Any thoughts of playing coy or being a brat disappear into the back of your mind as he pins you with a harsh stare. Bakugou pets your hair, threading the soft strands through his fingers to hold you still. 
You bite your lip as his free hand drops to his waist, Bakugou shoving his pants and boxers down just low enough for his cock to spring free. The size makes you swallow. He’s bigger than you thought. Thicker. And you remember how your hand couldn’t wrap all the way around him. Your thighs clench, rubbing together as a dull ache builds between your legs.
He doesn’t waste his time. Shifting forward, he palms himself, lazily stroking his cock with his own fingers, just out of your reach. When you try to lean forward, he pulls your hair, forcing you back again. “Such a little slut,” he murmurs, allowing the head of his cock to press against your wet lips, his hips slowly rocking back and forth. Your tongue flicks out to taste him, and he groans. “There you go,” he says, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from your face before he starts pushing his cock into your mouth.
You immediately close your lips around him, bobbing your head forward as much as his tight grip will let you. Bakugou feeds you his cock, sliding into your wet mouth slowly as you start to suck, letting you adjust to just how fucking thick he really is. His girth has your jaw stretched wide, forcing you to breathe slowly through your nose. You glance up at him.
“That’s it, angel,” he groans as you bob your head again, “suck my cock.” His hips rock forward in a shallow thrust; his eyes lock on your lips, stretched obscenely around his length. Wet trails of saliva stick to his cock as you pull back to swirl your tongue around the head. 
Whimpering around him, you suck harder, swallowing around him, anything that might pull another filthy moan from his mouth. Your hands grab his thighs for balance, your fingers digging into his legs as you try to pull him closer.
You’re rewarded with a low moan rumbling from his chest. Bakugou’s eyes slip shut for a second, his head tilting back in raw pleasure. “Figures you'd be a perfect little cock sucker,” he says under his breath, almost too low for you to hear him. “I bet you want me to fuck your face, huh, baby?”
You settle for moaning instead of nodding, watching him through your eyelashes as he pants above you. 
“Fuck.” A long, hissing exhale escapes through his teeth, and his hand tightens in your hair just a little bit as he watches you work his cock. You look so fucking pretty with your mouth wrapped around him, your lips slick with saliva as you take him deeper into your mouth. There are tears beading at the corners of your eyes. “Fuck,” he says again, “you feel so good.” He grunts. “How long have you been thinkin’ about sucking my cock, babe?”
You flush under his gaze, unable to answer with your mouth full of his dick, but the answer must be clear as day on your face. You don’t know what it is he’s thinking about, but you swear his cock gets bigger in your mouth, that strange quirk making him thicker so that you’re nearly choking on him.
Bakugou holds your head still as he starts to rock his hips; he moves slowly at first, his thrusts shallow and even, but he quickly picks up speed when you whine around his cock. It isn’t long before he’s fucking your mouth, thrusts as rough as you’d expect from someone like him. His cockhead brushes against the back of your throat, his hips stuttering as he holds you like that, your lips pressed nearly against the base of his cock.
Somehow, you manage to keep your eyes on him. You force your throat to relax and swallow around him. His eyes almost roll back at the sensation, but he keeps his ruby gaze locked on you, watching how well you take him. He can only imagine how good you’re going to take his cock, too. He speeds up again, groaning as the pressure in his gut starts to build.
His cock pulls from your mouth with a wet sound, and you cough, sucking in greedy mouthfuls of air. Bakugou drags you off the floor, and your startled gasp is cut off by his hand wrapping around your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, unfortunately, just holds his palm there. The next thing you know, you’re being shoved against the nearest wall, your cheek pressed to the chilly surface as Bakugou all but rips off your skirt, leaving you in just your underwear and shoes. 
The fabric pools on the floor in a crumpled heap, and Bakugou kicks it aside in order to spread your legs from behind. You brace your hands against the wall, ass out, and he’s on you in a second.
Teasing is thrown out the window as he finally—finally—touches you. One of his hands reaches around you to grope your chest, palming your breast roughly before shoving the cup of your bra aside to tweak and pinch your nipple. You’re a panting, whining mess by the time he gets his hand between your legs. Two thick fingers drag over the crotch of your panties, and he actually laughs when he feels how wet you are. “Shit, you get that horny just from sucking my cock?”
Blearily, you nod, pressing your pussy closer to his hand. Bakugou shoves your panties to the side, fingers skimming through your wetness before rolling over your clit. You nearly sob at how good it feels to have him touch you. It’s like his hands were meant to please you, big and rough, his calloused fingers providing the perfect amount of friction. Each precise stroke of his fingers feeds the knot in your belly, keeping you right on the edge of coming undone.
“You’re gonna feel so fucking good on my cock,” he tells you removing his fingers from your clit to squeeze your ass. His cock quickly replaces his hand between your thighs, his thick length rubbing against your slick pussy, the head bumping against your clit with every stroke. Bakugou lets go of your breast; his hand slaps against the wall beside your head for balance. “Pretty cunt squeezing around me. That what you want?”
“Please. Oh, please,” you mumble. Anything to get him inside you. It almost hurts how turned on you are right now. From the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the hem of his shirt, about to pull it off. “Don’t!”
Bakugou goes absolutely still at your sharp cry. The only movement is his eyes snapping up to meet yours, flooded with concern as he checks to see if he’s hurting you.
But you whimper, trying to shove yourself back on his cock. “Don’t take it off,” you clarify breathlessly, legs quivering with the effort of holding yourself up.
The concern bleeds from his eyes, and they’re taken over by something dark and hungry instead as he realizes what you mean. He thrusts his cock between your thighs, your slick covering his cock as it drips from you. Your eyes flutter as he pressed against your clit again. “Don’t take what off?” He wants to hear you say it.
And you’re so painfully aroused that the words come spilling out of your mouth before you can stop him. “Your costume,” you choke out around a loud moan. “I want you to fuck me while you’re wearing your costume.” That’s one dirty little fantasy you’ve had for a while, maybe ever since you met him. The thought of him fucking you while he’s still in costume is almost too much, but god do you want it badly.
“That so?” he drawls. His hand drops from his shirt back to your ass cheek, groping you before spreading you from behind. He takes a step back, ignoring your whine, and whistles when he gets a good look at your dripping slit. Bakugou tugs your hips back, forcing your back to arch for him. “What a naughty little slut. You got a thing for heroes, baby?”
Just you, you think, but all you can do is moan his name. “Bakugou.”
You cry out as he slaps your ass. “No, no, no,” he repremends. “That's not what you call me.”
“Katsuki, please,” you manage to whine around a harsh swallow.
He spanks you again. “Come on, angel, you know what to say.” It takes a second for it to click, but when it does you blush. “Fuck, look how wet you are.” He chuckles as he looks at your glistening thighs. Another love tap lands on your reddening ass. “You like it when I spank you?”
“Yes,” you mewl.
He spreads your legs open wider. “Yes, what?”
You take a deep, shuddering breath, cheek pressed against the wall in front of you. “Yes, Ground Zero.” Your tongue runs across your bottom lip. “Sir,” you tack on.
“Good girl.” 
There’s no warning as he adjusts himself behind you, cock slamming into you hard enough to steal your breath. There’s no resistance, you're so wet. You pussy clenches around him, your walls sucking him in deeper. That’s all it takes for an orgasm to rip through you, the knot in your belly snapping so fast that all you can do is let out a silent scream as you slump forward against the wall.
Bakugou is equal parts shocked and amused as you try to milk his cock, and he grits his teeth as his dick twitches inside of you, almost pulling him over with you. “Fuck,” he laughs. “You cum just from me filling you up?” You whimper and nod. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” 
He presses you closer to the wall, and his arm slips beneath your knee, lifting your leg and holding you open. Your thigh burns from the stretch. His cock drags along your walls slowly before, only the tip left inside before he thrusts back into you, reaching deeper.
He picks up a steady pace, slamming into you over and over. You’re already so sensitive from your first orgasm, and little gasps and whines keep falling from your mouth with every brutal thrust as Bakugou finds your sweet spot, hitting it perfectly as he pounds you. He’s thick and hard inside you, even bigger than he was in your mouth, and your eyes widen when you realize he’s doing it on purpose. “How big can you get?” you gasp, moaning as his cock expands inside you, filling you up completely.
“As big as you fucking want me,” he snarls back, fucking you faster, hiking your leg up higher.
All you can do is hold on and take it.
You don’t know how much time passes, the only sounds are your heavy breathing and his harsh panting against your ear. Sweat drips down your back where he’s sliding over you, and his fingers bite into your thigh as he almost loses his grip. “You know whose office is on the other side of this wall?” he asks suddenly. “Answer me, baby!” A particularly harsh thrust follows the demand.
“No, Sir,” you pant.
“Fucking Deku.” He grits his teeth as that now familiar tingle goes right to his cock, but you don’t seem to notice the lie. “You think he’s in there right now? His desk is right on the other side.” You pussy squeezes around him, and Bakugou moans against the side of your neck. “I bet he can hear you in here panting like a whore as I fuck your slutty little cunt.”
Your back arches into him, the revelation reigniting the fire he lit inside you. That knot comes back, just as tight as before, and you tremble as you realize he’s going to make you cum again. “Ground Zero,” you whine.
He lets go of your thigh, but keeps your knee hooked around his elbow. His hand snakes around your hips to rub your clit, and you jerk against him. “He’s got some new intern, too. Some little high school brat.” A high-pitched, needy sound falls from your mouth. “Fuck, you sound so pretty when you moan my name.” He rolls your clit harder between his fingers, and the heat rolling from him is so sweltering that it’s hard to breathe. “Shit, you’re gonna be filling this kid’s fantasies for weeks. He’s probably gettin’ off to you right now.” His cock gets bigger inside you; his hips grind against you harder. “But your pussy’s mine, angel. Got that?”
You nod, delirious.
And, fuck, he just doesn’t stop talking. “You gonna cum?” he asks, fingers moving faster over your clit. “Gonna cum from thinking about Deku and his intern listening to me fuck you?” You shudder and gasp, shoving yourself back on his cock in a weak attempt to match his brutal pace. “That’s it, baby, cum on my fat cock. Let everyone know who’s making you feel so good. I wanna hear you scream so fucking loud that everyone in this goddamn building knows my name.”
Bakugou pinches your clit. Your eyes slam shut, body locking up as he throws you into another powerful climax. “Katsuki!” you shriek, his name ripping from your throat in a raw scream.
This time, he doesn’t hold himself back. A series of harsh thrusts drag out your orgasm until you’re sobbing, a few tears slipping out and rolling down your cheeks. His cock twitches, swelling, and he shoves inside of you as deep as he can go before cumming inside you, his thick seed filling you up and dripping down your thigh.
He doesn’t pull out, leaning his head against your shoulder as you both try and catch your breath. Bliss washes over you as he kisses your neck, mumbling a string of garbled praises against your ear.
You blush when something he said hits you full force, finally able to process it now that he’s not fucking you senseless. “Midoriya,” you gasp, trying to crane your head around to look at him.
Bakugou presses more of his weight against your back, slowly lowering your leg back to the floor. His hands grasp your hips when your legs threaten to collapse beneath you. “Bastards office is on the other wall,” he says, calming you down. “‘Sides, it’s his day off.”
Relief floods through you. “You have absolutely no filter, do you?”
He shrugs, kissing across your cheek. “I don’t see you complainin’.”
You laugh a little breathlessly. “You made me cum twice,” you remind him. “I don’t give a shit what you were saying.” You shift in his embrace, wincing as his cock moves inside you. Fuck, you’re sensitive.
He stills you. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” he asks. When he sees your obviously confused look, he gives you a shallow thrust, his cock still hard inside you. “Oh, angel, we’ve still got thirty minutes, right? We’re just getting started.”
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spnsisterimagines · 3 years
Text
Mario Kart
Summary - Y/N decides to engage her brothers and Castiel into Mario Kart, not realizing what she was getting herself into.
Pairings - Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader, Jack Kline x Platonic!Winchester!Reader, Castiel x Winchester!Reader
Word Count - 1,911 words
"Let's get it!" Y/N squeals, claiming her spot on the middle of the couch. She was practically bouncing up and down, waiting impatiently for everyone to join her. The Dean Cave had brightened considerably since she had added a few redecorations. While Dean initially denied her, she had forced him to allow her to put up LED lights, several polaroids from her camera(they were mostly of herself smiling widely at the camera while Sam and Dean looked mildly annoyed with fake smiles. There was also a real funny one where Sam was unconscious on a hunt and Y/N decided to pose beside him), as well as posters from their favorite bands. Not to mention the added dock to the TV stand to hold her Nintendo Switch that Sam had bought her for her previous birthday. 
She supposed he regretted it now, since she was forcing him to play a game he'd never even heard of.
He entered the room first, holding a big bowl of popcorn and a soda. Dean followed close behind, Little Debbie packages hanging from his mouth since his arms were occupied with pillows from their bedrooms and a pack of beers for himself. Jack was the only one to come empty handed. He happily took the spot beside Y/N, waving merrily as Castiel also appeared with two sodas(both of them for Beth because he was just so considerate), taking the spot on her other side.
"I'll give this an hour before we switch to movie night, Y/N," Dean warned as he occupied his armchair, which was to the left of the couch. She had discovered this old thing at a garage sale. It had been a rather stressful day because Dean had refused to strap it to Baby and they had to hound what little friends they had for a truck. Since most of their friends were dead, Y/N had hot wired one outside of a bar and returned it before the drunk redneck inside could notice it had even left. She was sure the dent in the bed was there before they put the couch on it. Sam had not been happy about that.
Sam took his own armchair, which was to the right of the couch. 
"What is it, again?" he asked curiously. 
"Is the only thing in the media you've ever heard Facebook? You've seriously never heard of Mario Kart?" Y/N asked, happily accepting one of the sodas from Castiel. "Dad really did a number on us. I was introduced to this through Charlie." She got up to grab the number of controllers necessary for four. Jack was eager to try the game, but he was always open to trying new things, something Y/N could appreciate.
After connecting them to the Switch, she handed them out to her brothers along with Jack before returning to her spot on the couch between the angel and nephilim. 
"If I remember correctly from what you've told me, it's a racing game, right?" Castiel asked.
"Exactly, except with a few quirks to make it interesting. Like, um...I could throw a shell and hit one of them and vice versa. Or a banana peel. I'll give them a trial run before we actually get into it. Are you sure you don't want to try it, Cas?"
Castiel shook his head. "I have seen how you play with Charlie, and I don't want to be on the receiving end of your anger. And I rather like watching you in your element."
Y/N smiled, blushing, before playfully pushing him. 
"I need to get drunk to stomach this," Dean said, offended as he popped one of the beers open and took a gulp. "Keep the PDA to a minimum guys, you've got a kid next to you. Alright, what buttons do I push to hit Sam?"
"What the hell?" Sam scoffed. 
"What?"
"We haven't even started and you're gunnin' for me?"
"Uh, yeah!" 
"Alright, alright! First we gotta pick our player," Y/N mediated, pressing the buttons to get them to the screen full of Mario players. "I already got mine." She moved her icon until it landed on Wendy, before selecting her. "Obviously the best character, hands down."
The three boys maneuvered their icons over different characters, for some reason taking it a little too seriously on who they would choose. Sam selected his first. 
"Luigi?" Dean scoffed.
"You got a problem?" Sam asked. 
"No, but...why Luigi?"
"Who cares, I just chose him."
"You have to have a reason, man." Dean shook his head, before selecting his own. 
"Why'd you choose Bowser, then?"
"Because he's a badass. And he'd beat the holy hell out of Luigi if the games lost their PG rating," Dean shrugged.
Jack hummed thoughtfully, still scrolling. "I choose him!" 
He selected Toad. 
"Why him, Jack?" she asked. 
"I like his hat."
Y/N snorted, but it was a valid enough answer. Once everyone was ready, she selected the settings for the game and then decided to use the time to explain to them how the controls worked and anything else they were curious about. After a few trial races, they were ready for the real thing. Castiel was sitting patiently, his hands on his lap. 
"You assholes are going down," Dean declared, bringing his remote closer to him. 
"So much for being appropriate in front of the kid," Y/N sneered, but she was just as ready.
She set the game to go through ten races with a random select for the roads. 
And with that, they were off.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" Dean yelled, nearly jumping to his feet. His first empty beer bottle slide across the floor from his rapid movement. "I DIDN'T EVEN TOUCH IT! I DIDN'T GO NEAR THE GODDAMN PEEL!"
"That might've been mine," Sam stated, smugly. "But Bowser also takes up half the road, so avoiding it was probably impossible anyway."
Dean squinted. "You callin' me fat, Sammy?"
Sam shrugged. "Luigi's doing just fine."
Y/N hid her smile as she hit her own item, snatching that smile right from Sam's face.
"Why did you do that?" he asked, incredulous, the red shell sending Luigi off the edge of the map. 
"You got in my way!" Y/N sang. 
It only seemed to get worse from there. What was supposed to be an hour of playing turned into four with the bowl of popcorn thrown across the room at Dean when he had decided to hit Sam three times with three separate shells before snagging first place and doing a lewd dance as a way to declare his victory. Y/N's hair had bristled up, becoming bushier almost as though it were alive. Her right eye was twitching, and her hands were cramping by now. 
Jack, however, was having a good time. He has gotten last place the entire time, but he was still having fun, and that's what truly mattered.
Castiel, on the other hand, seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack, not knowing whose side he should take because all three Winchester siblings were completely out of their minds, including Y/N.
Finally, it was the last race. Everyone's nerves were shot. Sam's hair seemed even more raggedy than Y/N's, and his shirt was stained with soda because Dean decided to take vengeance by chucking his pillow at him when Sam was taking a big gulp. They had to pause the game for several minutes while Sam fought for his life coughing and wheezing because the soda went down the wrong pipe.
"I'm afraid I must at least attempt to deter you guys from participating in another race. There aren't any weapons in the Dean Cave, but I'm sure you three will find a way to kill each other," Castiel said, worried. "Jack, are you okay?"
Jack nodded enthusiastically. "I'm having fun!"
"I will let it be known if I lose, someone is dying tonight. I will call Billie to fix it, but someone has to die tonight if I lose," Y/N threatened. 
"Good luck with that, I'm kicking all of your asses, and you can kiss mine when it crosses the finish line," Dean said.
"I don't even care if I win, as long as you guys lose. And I'll make sure it happens." Sam jeered. 
With that, the race began. Aside from Jack and Castiel, everyone was bloodthirsty. Surely no matter who won, someone was gonna be pissed off. Castiel was making a mental note to grab Jack as soon as possible and escort him out of the room while the siblings brawled. 
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Y/N shouted, jumping to her feet. "WHO DID IT! WHO DID IT?"
"I did!" Sam happily announced, moving to and fro with the turn of his controller, as though he were in the game himself. 
"I'm gonna get you, Sam," Y/N snarled, pressing hard on the buttons, trying her best to catch up to her brother, collecting any items she came across, but none of them were good enough, so she kept using them without thinking until she heard Dean curse and also jump to his feet. 
"THAT WAS ME, JACKASS!" he yelled, completely distraught. "I didn't even do anything this time!"
"You probably deserved it anyway!" Sam shrugged, continuing to maneuver through the AIs to get to the front. 
By that time, Dean and Y/N had caught up, and with all they had, they used their items to completely screw each other over up until every kart had passed them. In the end, they were the bottom three with Sam first, Y/N second, and Dean in dead last. And for a moment there after, nobody said anything. They were completely beside themselves in utter shock at what just occurred. 
"What just happened?" Y/N asked, deflating considerably. 
"We lost..." Sam mumbled. 
"Screw you guys, I lost overall!" Dean scoffed.
"I won!" Jack suddenly cheered, leaping to his feet and jumping up and down. "I won!"
"You what?" Y/N asked, shocked as her eyes trailed to the top. Sure enough, Toad was in first place. "You're kidding!"
"I can't believe I won!" Jack said, smiling as he high-fived a proud Castiel.
"I want a rematch," Dean commanded, sitting back down and retrieving his controller. 
"Yeah, me, too!" Sam agreed. 
"I'm down!" Y/N eagerly agreed, about to grab hers when Castiel snatched it. He went around the room, taking up all the controllers.
"Given that it's five in the morning, and just a couple moments ago you three were ready to quite literally rip each other's throats out, I'm going to recommend everyone get up and get to bed instead," he instructed curtly. "I think we should postpone a future night of games indefinitely, at least for a little while until you three can learn to control yourselves."
"What-but-you can't-" Y/N sputtered.
"Quite literally, I can shut off whatever is necessary so you can never play the game again with just a snap of my fingers," Castiel warned. "Shower and get some sleep. Jody already told us she needed to discuss something at noon tomorrow, and it would be rude if we were tardy. C'mon, let's go!"
With a grumble, everyone got up and cleaned their mess, ignoring each other vehemently as they walked out. Except for Jack; he was practically skipping. 
There was another good thing about tonight that he knew about. He was the one that triggered the lightning item that really stumped the three siblings and put them at the bottom three.
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ncssian · 3 years
Text
A Favor: Part Twenty-One
Nessian Modern AU
Masterlist
a/n: as someone who is physically incapable of reading fics and other long tumblr posts line by line and word for word, i think it’s so fucking cool that a bunch of you regularly, excitedly read what i post. i would not blame you at all for skim reading. thank you.
***
The majority of Cassian’s life was spent battling with the fact of his own existence. First he was fatherless, then motherless, then homeless. Being taken in by Rhys’s parents, who bought him nice clothes and nicer gifts, was like putting a bandaid over a stab wound. It couldn’t change the questions that made up Cassian at his core: was he equal to everyone else in this world, or had he been born inherently inferior? Did he deserve the same happinesses that his friends so carelessly reaped, or should he step back and know his place?
The older he grew, the more he grappled with those questions—until the night he learned who his father was, and the truth behind his existence. That he was likely a product of rape. Nearly driving himself drunk off a mountainside in Monte Carlo was enough to make him realize with a startling clarity: he couldn’t keep asking himself the same questions for the rest of his life. At some point, he was going to have to buck the fuck up and make his peace with the world, whether he believed he deserved to be in it or not. And though it might have taken him a while to reach that conclusion, Cassian can proudly say he did it. Not long into his post-college years, Cassian finally grew up.
By twenty-seven, he was secure enough in himself and his place in the world to not have to deal with those doubtful voices every waking minute. His life was figured out, and his ego was unshakeable. Until Nesta Archeron entered the story.
Now at twenty-eight, Cassian is again unsecured—this time in a less tragic but more confusing way. Because everything he thinks he knows about himself, about life, she insists on proving wrong.
Including the issue of celebrating his birthday.
“I feel like I should have asked this earlier,” Cassian mutters to Nesta as they stand in the cozy resort lobby, “but why is Az here?”
Nesta looks both humiliated and resigned when she mutters back, “He wouldn’t pay for the resort unless I let him come with us.”
“At that point you should’ve just let me pay, babe.” He watches Azriel’s back as he chats up the lady at the front desk while getting their room keys.
“On your own birthday? It would have ruined the point,” Nesta says.
Cassian doesn’t retort that having his brother present at their couple’s retreat also ruins the point. He’s sure she already knows.
Nesta’s reaction when Cassian told her that he didn’t celebrate his birthday was unforgettable.
“No one in our inner circle really cares about birthdays,” he had shrugged. “Feyre’s birthday is the exception because she’s sort of the outsider, and Rhys will find any excuse to worship at her feet. But the rest of us? I don’t know, it was never a big deal.”
As someone who’s never skipped a birthday once in her life, even when she was isolated and ignoring her family’s phone calls, Nesta took this as a personal offense. “I need to get you out of this cabin,” she stated.
Which brings them here, to Colorado’s finest ski resort situated high in the Rocky Mountains. The lobby is littered with overstuffed armchairs and a crackling fireplace, and huge windows look out over the blinding white mountains.
Az starts heading their way, key cards in hand, when Cassian suddenly turns to Nesta. “We need to find him a woman,” he whispers.
“What?”
“We can’t let him third wheel with us for the whole weekend. We’ll never get time alone.” Cassian is set on this new plan, already scanning the lobby for women around Azriel’s age.
“I agree, but—”
Azriel reaches the two of them, tossing a room card to Nesta. “You can stop talking about me now. I’ll be spending most of my time hitting the slopes.”
Cassian and Nesta mumble a halfhearted, “We weren’t talking about you.”
He narrows his eyes at them. “Uh-huh. Just remember whose credit card this is going on.” Picking up his ski gear and duffel bag, he turns for the elevator.
Nesta frowns up at Cassian once Az is gone, more adorably than she probably intends. “Do you think he’s upset?”
He scoffs. “We should be upset at him.” He doesn’t want to have to worry about his brother while he’s on vacation, and Az definitely wouldn’t want him to worry either, but it isn’t something that can be helped.
Despite his irritation, he might go skiing with Az later this afternoon. Just to keep him company.
***
Nesta will give it to Azriel—he’s a man of fine taste, and also generous with his spending. She originally wanted a normal room for her and Cassian, preferably the cheapest one, but Az went behind her back and upgraded them to a fully decked out penthouse suite.
“This is too much for just a weekend,” she tells him over the phone while Cassian is in the bathroom. “How am I supposed to pay you back for this?”
“Why would you pay me back?” he says dismissively. “I’m rich.”
When Nesta tries arguing with him, he only replies, “I don’t take money from poor people,” and hangs up on her.
Which leaves Nesta to enjoy the four-spray shower and heated bathroom tiles free of charge. By the time she comes out of the shower, Cassian has already left with Azriel to hit some slopes before dinner, though not before leaving her a note promising to teach her how to ski tomorrow.
Nesta doesn’t even get to unwrap her towel from her body before realizing her phone is ringing incessantly, all the way from the other side of the suite. Jogging over to the living area, Nesta answers Emerie’s call. “What’s up?”
“Where are you?” Emerie greets without introduction.
“At the ski lodge?” Nesta answers, confused. “I already told you, for Cassian’s birthday.”
“I know that,” Emerie hisses. “I mean what room are you in? This place is huge.”
“Wait—you’re here?” Nesta looks quickly around herself, as if Emerie will pop up from behind the couch.
“Not just me. So is Gwyn.” Nesta hears rustling on the other side of the line, and then Emerie saying from a distance, “Answer for your crimes, Gwyneth. Say hi.”
A new, clearer voice comes over the phone. “Hiii, Nesta.” Gwyn sounds weak, like she is not having fun at all.
“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Nesta demands.
“Well, it’s a long story and I need to see you first. Also, I have to pee. Where is your room?”
Five minutes later, Gwyn and Emerie are sitting obediently before the roaring fireplace in Nesta and Cassian’s suite.
Now fully dressed, Nesta stabs a finger at Emerie. “Explain.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Emerie says indignantly. “Gwyn barged into my place at eight in the morning and dragged me all the way here—”
“It was an emergency!” Gwyn tosses her hands in the air. “It still is an emergency. That’s why we’re here.”
“I’m here because Gwyn is scared of traveling alone,” Emerie interjects. “And driving on highways.”
“Guys!” Nesta snaps.
Gwyn makes a whining sound of defeat and drops her head into her hands. After a long moment, she speaks. “He asked if we could go to dinner together. Like, right to my face. And I panicked and said yes, because I couldn’t think of a reason to say no, but obviously I can’t do that. So this morning I cashed in my sick days and told him I was going on vacation for a whole week.” Gwyn looks up at Nesta with pleading teal eyes. “Please can we stay here the whole week?”
Nesta stares at Gwyn, feeling like her brain was just sucked dry. “First of all, who’s ‘he’?”
“Max!” She stands in her outburst. “The love of my life. The man who works on the fourth floor of the library. Do you pay attention to the groupchat at all?”
Oh yeah, that guy. “You came all the way here,” Nesta drawls out slowly, “so you wouldn’t have to have dinner with your crush?”
“It wasn’t just any dinner.” Gwyn flops back onto the couch. “It was a date. I can’t go on a date with him. First dates lead to second dates, and second dates lead to—sex.” She whispers the last word.
“Really?” Emerie frowns, not missing a beat at the mention of Gwyn’s deepest fear. “What kind of dates have you been having?”
“I haven’t been having any dates,” Gwyn says. “Why, how long do you usually see someone before doing it?”
“First date, at most,” Emerie shrugs.
“No,” Nesta steps in, sending Emerie a bewildered look. “Gwyn, you’ve known this guy for a while now. If he’s half as decent as you think he is, he won’t expect sex by the second date. And even if he does—”
“What does it matter?” Gwyn wails. “It’ll come up eventually. And when it does, he’ll think I’m a freak.”
“He won’t get a chance to think anything before I kill him,” Emerie says, eyes darkening.
Nesta says nothing, knowing this is something she can’t advise Gwyn about. Whether or not Gwyn chooses to share her past and unresolved trauma with another man, and whether or not that man reacts in an unshitty way isn’t something Nesta can determine. So she just states for the record, “You’re not a freak.”
“But it’s what he’ll think.”
“Then you shouldn’t be with him in the first place,” Nesta says firmly. Even though she knows better than anyone that it isn’t always that simple.
Proving her point, Gwyn scoffs and looks away. “You don’t get it.”
“What I really don’t get,” Nesta says, “is why you took your lie so literally. Why did you come all the way out here instead of hiding out at home for the week?”
“Merrill sees and knows everything. I can’t lie to her.” Gwyn cringes. “If I stayed at home, she would sniff me out as soon as she got me on the phone, and then I’d really be screwed.”
Nesta cocks her head at Gwyn, squinting her eyes in something akin to fascination.
“I had the same reaction,” Emerie pipes up. She shakes her head at Gwyn. “I’ve never met a more melodramatic idiot, truly.”
Gwyn curls into herself on the couch, looking ashamed.
Nesta sighs sharply, then whips out a hand. “Give me your wallets. I’ll go downstairs right now and see if I can book a room last minute.”
Emerie sits up at that. “Uh… I’m not sure I can afford a place like this.”
“Neither can I,” Nesta says. “That’s why Azriel paid for all of us.”
Gwyn’s eyes go comically round. “Azriel’s here?”
“Unfortunately.” She snaps her fingers at both girls. “Credit or debit, now.”
“So… I’m assuming we can’t just share this huge suite with you guys, huh?” Gwyn says hesitantly.
There might be actual flames in Nesta’s eyes. This is Cassian’s birthday, goddammit. Cassian, who hasn’t celebrated a birthday since he was eleven. “Please don’t push me.”
Gwyn and Emerie, very reluctantly, hand their cards over to Nesta. Emerie hands over two, just in case.
In the end, Nesta doesn’t use any of their money, but charges the new room to her own account. She’ll work it off by putting extra hours into Night Court, she tells herself.
When she returns to the penthouse suite, she spies tracks outlined in melted snow at the doorway. Shit. She barges inside to find Cassian and Azriel standing in the middle of the living area, with Emerie looking awkward on the couch.
“Uh, we just got back—” Cassian starts.
“I can explain,” Nesta interrupts.
A faucet turns off in the distance, and Gwyn peeks her head out of the bathroom door.
“Oh, shit,” Azriel says in delight. “Freckles is here too?”
Gwyn looks like she’s about to turn right back around to the bathroom. Nesta and Cassian both throw Az a baffled look, but Nesta says, “I can fix this. I’ve already fixed it.” She goes over to Emerie and hands her a key card. “You and Gwyn are going to stay on the first floor, and you won’t bother me or Cassian for the duration of our stay. It’ll be like you’re not even here.” She whips toward Gwyn, who still hovers near the bathroom doorway. “And at the end of this weekend, you’re going back to work like the adult you are and taking care of your shit.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Gwyn says quietly, lowering her head.
Cassian comes over to Nesta, whispering, “So, you didn’t invite them to keep Az company or anything, right?”
“I can hear you,” Azriel says.
“Of course not,” Nesta whispers back. “That’s a terrible idea.”
“Really? Because I thought it was kind of convenient—”
“I can still hear you,” Az repeats.
“So can I,” Emerie nods.
“Shut up,” Nesta hisses at the both of them. Grabbing Cassian’s still-gloved hand, she drags him upstairs and away to their bedroom. When the door shuts behind them, she turns to him and blurts, “I’m so sorry.”
Cassian only laughs, taking his ski jacket off and brushing away the wet snow from the back. “I’m not.” He tosses his jacket and gloves over a chair and approaches Nesta, tugging her closer by her oversized turtleneck. “And what did I tell you about wasting your apologies?”
Nesta doesn’t care. “I ruined your birthday.”
“My birthday’s not until tomorrow,” he says with a straight face. “But honestly, I like this a lot more than just you, me, and Az. At least he can’t third wheel anymore, right?”
She shakes her head insistently, frustration boiling in her blood. “Everything’s going wrong.”
“But you solved our problems.” He finds Nesta’s clenched fists and unfurls them with gentle hands. “You got the girls their own room, and now Az can be distracted with those two. We can still be alone. We win.”
Nesta purses her lips, unconvinced, when Cassian adds, “But seriously, though—what the fuck are they doing here?”
She exhales deeply, letting her head drop forward onto Cassian’s chest. “I don’t know,” she mutters. “Gwyn panicked about some personal stuff and thought it was a good idea to come to me. I don’t want to make her leave, though.” Gwyn is being stupid right now, without a doubt, but Nesta won’t abandon her. Neither will Emerie.
God, having friends sucks.
Cassian threads a hand through her loose hair and hums. “Gwyn was smart for coming to you.”
***
Dinner is held outside in the snow and cold, but everyone bundles up and sits down at a table that surrounds one of the multiple fire pits in the courtyard. Cassian convinced Nesta to let Gwyn and Emerie hang out with them for the weekend, because what else are those poor girls supposed to do, and now the women babble over each other as they decide what to drink.
Cassian sits back and takes it in, the sight feeling heartwarmingly familiar and strangely brand new at the same time. Nesta ends up being the one to order everybody’s drinks, and once the waiter scampers back inside, Gwyn releases a terse breath. “Sometimes I still get scared of that tone.”
“I’m always scared of it,” Az mutters, eyeing Nesta from the corner of his eye.
“What tone?” Cassian laughs. He knows Nesta is still a little wound up from her plans going off the rails, but she hasn’t done anything scary.
“I’m used to it,” Emerie says through a mouthful of fries, “but I think that waiter almost cried.”
“That’s how I sound all the time.” Nesta shrugs, sitting back.
“What tone?” Cassian repeats.
Nesta clicks her tongue impatiently. “You know how I talk. I’m straightforward.”
“And harsh,” Azriel adds. “Even aggressive.”
“Watch it.” Gwyn turns stern eyes onto him over the fire pit.
“I have no idea what you all are talking about,” Cassian says. He turns to Nesta. “You sound perfectly normal to me.”
She narrows her perfect brows at him, and Emerie laughs, “I don’t know if that’s romantic or ignorant.”
But now that they’re discussing it, Cassian does distinctly remember Nesta having a sharp edge to her words while they were getting to know each other. Did it disappear over time, or has he really stopped noticing it?
He doesn’t get to think about it before their drinks arrive, followed soon by a dinner of fancy sandwiches.
Cassian cuts his beef sandwich in half and gives the other half to Nesta, and she does the same with her turkey sandwich. They eat and drink around the crackling fire, laughing and talking about tomorrow’s plans (“It’s not your birthday, Azriel,” Nesta says. “Stop asking about gifts.”). Cassian and Emerie talk idly about video games over wine, and even though it isn’t really his thing, he can see her excitement over it and gladly indulges it.
Once everyone is finished eating and is slightly drunk, Gwyn pulls a small sleeve of crackers out of her puffy jacket, followed by a fun-sized Hershey’s bar and a handful of mini marshmallows.
“What are you doing?” Nesta says.
“Making dessert.” Gwyn builds a mini s’more and places it carefully on her fork so she can toast it over the fire pit. When it’s done, she leans forward even more to try to put it on Nesta’s plate. “For you. Thank you for letting me and Emerie stay.”
Nesta jumps, catching the s’more with her plate and batting Gwyn away from the fire pit at the same time. “You’ll set your hair on fire,” she hisses.
Gwyn’s hair remains safe, but now Cassian catches his brother watching Gwyn amusedly from the corner of his eye. “Can I have one?” Az says.
“I’m all out.” Gwyn says while building another s’more, refusing to meet his eyes.
Cassian and Nesta share a look, a hundred words thrown back and forth between them in that glance. She scoots her chair closer to him to slip her cold hands into his warm ones, but while the conversation carries on around the table, she leans in and whispers, “I’m not a busybody but…”
“I am,” he whispers back. “Az is being weird, weirder than usual.”
Nesta nods. “I’ve never seen him so—outgoing.”
Neither has Cassian, but before he can mention anything else, he looks up to find that Gwyn and Azriel’s seats at the table are empty. “How much did those two drink?” he breathes.
Nesta follows his gaze, seeing what he’s seeing: Azriel and Gwyn wandering clumsily around the snowy courtyard. Or rather, Az is trying to chase Gwyn down for a s’more, while she clutches her mini marshmallows to her chest and vehemently yells, “They’re mine!”
Meanwhile, Emerie is half asleep at the table.
Cassian watches as Gwyn nears the towering fir tree at the center of the courtyard and slips. Az shoots out a hand to catch her, but not before her ass hits the stone, hard. He pulls her back up, no longer fooling around, and Gwyn rubs her butt in pain.
Cassian suddenly feels Nesta squeezing the life out of his hands, and he looks over to find fury written across her face. For a heartbeat, he feels worried for Az.
“Go deal with him,” Nesta says lowly. “Before I do.”
Not needing any more words to understand, he stands out of his seat and heads out into the courtyard. He doesn’t know why Nesta thinks Gwyn needs protecting, but it makes him feel protective himself. Approaching the duo, he sees that Azriel finally acquired the leftover s’more ingredients from Gwyn.
“There’s only like half a cracker left,” Az mutters to himself, shaking the baggie.
“Is he bothering you?” Cassian asks Gwyn, who still looks grumpy over losing their skirmish.
Whipping her head to Cassian like he’s her savior, Gwyn nods furiously. “Please make him stop.”
Cassian turns to Azriel with rage in his eyes, a clear What the fuck do you think you’re doing?
But Az shakes his head in denial. “It’s not like that. Look, she’s smirking at me!” He points over Cassian’s shoulder.
When Cassian looks, Gwyn is already walking back to the fire pit, holding her bruised ass.
Az starts, “What a fake little—”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Cassian interrupts. “Yesterday you’re crying over Elain and today you’re flirting with Nesta’s friend?”
Azriel goes serious, his face turning colder than the night air. “How do you know about Elain?” he says gruffly.
“Everyone knows, Azriel.” Cassian stares down his brother, wondering if he’ll finally get him to get his head screwed on straight after these past weeks of secretive bullshit.
Azriel sets his jaw, but a muscle there ticks.
“Will you finally at least tell me what’s going on in your head?” Cassian pleads. “Because I can’t keep guessing.”
Azriel glances toward the dinner table, as if checking to see that no one is paying attention to them. Looking back, he inhales a breath. “You want to know why I left Velaris?”
Like Nesta, Azriel is not one to quickly make himself vulnerable. So there’s no blatant emotion in his voice when he says, “I started seeing her at the end of summer, not long after she broke up with her ex. And it was so…nice after every other relationship I’ve been in has gone wrong. We kept it quiet, and because of that, it was peaceful.” Azriel’s eyes meet Cassian’s twin ones, and he smirks without humor. “But you already know what that’s like, don’t you?”
He does. Cassian crosses his arms, waiting for Az to continue.
“Anyway, we had a good run. For a long time, it was mostly just sex, but I liked her. I liked her a lot.” Az kicks at the snow-dusted cobblestones. “Then Christmas came around, and Rhys found out.” His face darkens as he remembers, and Cassian stiffens, knowing what’s next isn’t good. Sometimes Rhys forgets the boundary between boss and brother.
“He didn’t say anything about it to Elain, of course,” Azriel says. “But he dragged my ass aside and gave me this huge lecture about us using each other as rebounds. Said ‘Feyre’s sister’ deserves better or some shit. I told him there was more to it than that, but he wouldn’t listen. Instead he brought Vanserra & Co. into it, like his business matters had anything to do with me and Elain.” Azriel’s eyes crinkle at the corners in a puzzled way. “So I got to thinking, ‘why would he bring the Vanserras up?’ He made it seem like such a big deal.” The toe of his boot digs a hole into the ground.
Sympathy churns alongside anger in Cassian’s chest for Azriel’s situation, anger at Rhysand for crossing that line between brothers. He’s only momentarily grateful that Rhys never tried doing something similar to him and Nesta.
“I thought she was over that other guy, Lucien,” Az continues. “But maybe she’s not, if Rhys is so concerned about what Lucien’s stepfather thinks. Anyway, that’s why I ran. Because I knew she liked me, but I also knew she didn’t love me. I didn’t want us to cause all that trouble with Rhys just to end up backed into a corner one day, having nowhere else to go because she loves someone else and I’m just a rebound. It would be awkward for everyone involved.” He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s mostly my fault, for always chasing after women I can’t have.” He finally looks up at Cassian. “When you talk to Elain, does it sound like she hates me?” The question is quiet, straightforward.
“No,” Cassian answers, voice rough. Even if Azriel wants to hide his feelings, Cassian won’t. “She doesn’t seem like she hates you. I don’t even think she’s mad at you.” Concerned, anxious, upset—that’s Elain as far as he knows.
“She should hate me,” Azriel says. “She should get pissed, burn my old clothes, and swear to never talk to me again. That’s the only way she can move on.” Maybe even move back to Lucien, is what goes unsaid.
Cassian isn’t so sure about that. Even as he feels for Az, he thinks both of his brothers should get slapped upside the head for how they’ve been acting lately. He won’t be the one to do it, but he might get Nesta to relay a message to Elain. It’ll be the same thing. “I’m sorry,” he tells Az instead. “I know I’ve been hard on you lately. When we get home, I’ll start doing better.” He claps Az on the shoulder and squeezes.
Azriel surprises him by scoffing, looking away in disbelief. “Wow, being compassionate is really a full time job for you, huh?” He claps Cassian’s shoulder back, pulling him into a sudden hug. “You’ve already done more than enough,” he says into Cassian’s ear. “Go to your girlfriend and take a rest.”
Taken aback, Cassian nods and pulls away. He’s about to turn around and leave when Az says, “By the way, I wasn’t flirting with Gwyn.”
Cassian raises a brow. “You were definitely doing something.”
Az rolls his eyes. “I’m not giving her anything she can’t handle. But in case you haven’t noticed, I have no interest in other women right now.” He makes a face. “Especially not her.”
Cassian chuckles. “I believe you. It’s Nesta you need to worry about.”
“Whatever. I’m not scared of her.”
That makes Cassian laugh even harder, but he turns around, ready to go back to said girlfriend. As he nears the fire pit, though, he finds that Gwyn is already there and cuddled up to Nesta. On Nesta’s other side, Emerie now sits in Cassian’s chair, asleep on her friend’s shoulder. He stops in his tracks.
Cassian wasn’t lying when he told Nesta that he was happy about their changed vacation plans—he believes the more the merrier, and he loves these people. Yet he can’t help but wish the two of them could be alone for just one day. Only one.
God, sometimes having friends sucks.
***
a/n: this is a two parter so next chapter we’ll finally be getting more nessian alone time
tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland
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arvinsescape · 3 years
Note
Ok when you have the time I thought of this Arvin x reader scenario. Arvin comes to a small town after the events of the movie and falls for the sweet girl working at the bakery and visits her everyday. If you wanna add smut, angst, fighting, or make it only tooth rotting fluff , I don’t care. Have the freedom to write it as you see fit!⭐️👄⭐️
His angel.
A/N: Thank you so much for sending this in! It got kinda long! I really hope you enjoy!!💕
Warnings: Language, Violence, misogyny.
Arvin had moved to the small town after the events of Knockemstiff, that's where he met you. You worked at the local bakery and Arvin was almost addicted to you, he found himself seeking out the bakery almost every day in hopes you were working.
Arvin thought you were sweet and kind, he often found himself thinking about you when he was working on a car at the garage he worked in. Your sweet smile always managed to pull a smile from him, you made his heart do flips and he wanted to work up the courage to ask you on a date.
He'd tried a couple of times, he really had but it always got caught in his throat and he found himself with sweaty palms and a racing heart. He was not the only man in the small town who liked you, no, most of the men did. It angered Arvin, their thoughts were nowhere near as innocent as his own.
Arvin hated the way the men in town spoke about your body and the things they wanted to do to you. It upset him that they couldn't see the sweet girl who deserved the world, only saw you as a piece of meat. He'd almost punched his work colleague for a remark he'd made about your physique.
It wasn't that Arvin didn't find you attractive because god he did, but you were so much more than that in his eyes. He'd gotten to know the sweet and caring nature you had, the way you would try and help anyone regardless of what it cost you.
He was yet again in the bakery, his daily routine, he felt a need to see you at least once a day, allow you to brighten his mood just by smiling at him. Grayson, one of the dickwads that liked to make remarks about you walked in, Arvin felt his anger rise as he watched the man rake his eyes up your body, eyeing you like a prize.
"Y/N? You got any of them sweet cakes left? You know, the ones I like?" He asked and Arvin watched as you gave the man that sweet smile of yours.
"Sure." You answered in that angelic voice. Arvin swears he never believed in angels or any of that stuff until he met you. "How many do you want?" You asked politely, making your way back around the counter.
"I'll take them all." He answered as you bagged them up before charging him, Arvin watched as he handed over the money shooting you a wink.
"Keep it. I'm sure you'll enjoy my tip." He said and Arvin nearly flew for the guy. How dare he? He watched as you gulped slightly, face draining of colour. "How about it doll? Me and you?" Grayson continued and Arvin watched as you shook your head in response.
"I think you should leave her alone." Arvin said as he stood to full height, he might have been slightly shorter than Grayson but Arvin looked far more intimidating.
"What's it got to do with you? Oh, sorry am I trying to muscle in on your territory? I'll happily have her once you've had your fun." Grayson laughed and Arvin felt his blood boil over, taking quick and firm steps towards the man.
"Now listen here you fucking asshole. You leave her alone or you'll have me to answer to, she's not interested." Arvin said, he'd subconsciously grabbed Grayson's shirt.
He watched as Grayson shook slightly, fear shooting through his eyes before he composed himself and held his hands up in defence, cocky smirk on his face.
"Sorry, sorry. Didn't realise it was so serious. I was only having a laugh."
"Fuck off out of here before I throw you out." Arvin said through gritted teeth and Grayson did as he was told, Arvin loosening his grip on his shirt. He turned to look at you. "Sorry." Arvin said sheepishly, he was annoyed with himself for losing his temper in front of you.
"Thank you, Arvin." You said and Arvin nodded before making his way out of the little shop. He was almost kicking himself for losing his temper, thoughts about how you were too good for him flooding his thoughts.
You were completely the opposite, he was all fists and violence and you were all sweet and lovely, there's no way you'd ever be interested.
**
Arvin didn't see you for almost a week, too embarrassed to step foot back in the shop. You shouldn't have had to witness him snap like that, memories of his past flooding through the back of his mind. You were too good for him, too good for a man who'd murdered people, whether they deserved it or not, he didn't want to drag you down.
Arvin was aware he could be a self destructive person, he could be grumpy and not see the fun in most things. You were the opposite and he just didn't want to drag you down, you deserved better, the world in fact. Arvin was so caught up in his own thoughts as he walked through the quiet streets that he almost didn't hear it.
"Grayson, stop." It was your voice, but it sounded sad, panicked, strange to Arvin's ears. "Seriously, I'm not interested you need to leave me alone. Go home." You shouted, you were trying to keep your voice steady Arvin could tell that much but it wasn't convincing.
"Oh come on Y/N, a bit of fun never hurt anyone." Grayson's voice echoed off the quiet walls and Arvin hastily made his way towards the voices. His heart hammering in his chest as the panic rose, he needed to get to you and make sure you were okay, make sure you weren't hurt.
Arvin quickly found the two people the voices belonged to and his anger rose again. Grayson was stood, hand wrapped around your wrist as you struggled to get him to let go, this fucker was in for it.
"Oi!" Arvin shouted and your eyes locked with his own, relief flooding them. "Let go." Arvin snarled and he watched as Grayson released your wrist.
"Fuck off Arvin, this has nothing to do with you." Grayson said, great he was drunk Arvin thought.
"I told you last week to leave her alone and I fucking meant it." Arvin snapped as he made his way towards the two figures, your feet quickly carrying you towards him. Arvin felt almost relived as as you stood in front of him and Arvin couldn't stop himself as he moved you behind him.
"Empty fucking threat. Come on, hand her over." The drunken male said as he made his way towards you, Arvin's hand instantly landing on his chest, stopping him. "Fine, you want a fucking fight over a stupid whore, then let's have at it." Grayson spat, far more confidence due to the alcohol buzzing through his system.
Arvin felt his anger reach a dangerous level at his words, he almost forgot that you were there as he swung for the man. Grayson must have expected it as he ducked just in time, Arvin's fist connecting with the wall. The pain almost didn't register to him as he swung again, this time knocking Grayson backwards.
He watched as the man stumbled, split lip evident and a look of pure anger in his face. Grayson made a move for Arvin but Arvin was smarter and far more powerful than the man in front of him as he knocked him onto his back. Arvin almost couldn't stop himself as he climbed on top of the man and repeatedly shoving his fist into his face. It brought back memories of the time he'd taught Lenora's bullies a lesson.
"Arvin, stop." He heard the words, but they didn't register. "Arvin!" He heard a little more firmly. "You're gonna kill him, you need to stop!" He heard again and he felt a soft hand touch his shoulder, Arvin came crashing back to reality as his vision cleared and he took in the man below him.
Arvin stood up quickly, Grayson groaned before rolling over spitting blood onto the floor. Arvin had just completely lost his temper and in front of you. He felt ashamed of himself, what the fuck where you going to think?
Arvin turned to face you, all thoughts of Grayson leaving him, you looked utterly terrified and Arvin felt awful. He'd probably just scared you off forever, your hands shook slightly as you reached for his hand, carefully holding it in your own.
"I just want to go home." You said just above a whisper, Arvin nodded slightly he walked you home, he needed to make sure you got home safe even if you spent the rest of your life hating him for what had just happened.
The walk was silent, you were unreadable, facial expression something Arvin had never seen before. It wasn't your usual happy self, you seemed deep in thought and Arvin wondered what was going on in that beautiful head. You were probably thinking of ways you could avoid him, a way you could get him to leave you alone.
You silently unlocked your door and Arvin waited for you to let go of his hand but you didn't as you made your way inside, pulling Arvin with you. You sat him down on your couch and silently left the room, returning with a first aid box.
You carefully took his hand in your own and only then did Arvin notice the blood and cuts on them. He watched with furrowed brows as you took a washcloth and wiped the blood away, almost like you were slowly removing the evidence of his violent outburst.
"This might sting a little." You said, voice soft as you looked at him with a sad smile before applying the alcohol rag, Arvin hissed as he felt the alcohol enter his cuts. He resisted the urge to pull his hand from your own, he didn't want to frighten you with any sudden movements.
"I'm sorry." Arvin spoke through a sigh when you grabbed a bandage to wrap his hand in. You looked at him with furrowed brows.
"What for?" You asked and Arvin looked at you like you'd grown two heads, his now bandaged hand leaving your own.
"For losing my temper." Arvin clarified.
"Arvin, you saved me tonight. I'm grateful, sure you could have held back but you saved me." You answered with that sweet smile and being here, in your lovely home, his hands bandaged up he realised he could never have you, you deserved more.
"Stop being so nice. I could've killed the guy." Arvin snapped and you looked at him shocked, he'd never taken that tone with you. "You are too nice for your own good."
"I, you," You tried to speak but Arvin cut you off.
"Don't make excuses for me. I'm a violent person Y/N, wherever I go violence follows and you, you're a good fucking person. You shouldn't be around people like me." He ranted.
"I wasn't making excuses Arvin!" You said, voice slightly raised.
"You should stay as far away from me as possible."
"But Arvin, I don't want to, I really like you!" You exclaimed and Arvin scoffed.
"I saw that look of fear in your eyes tonight. You saw it didn't you, how dangerous I am when I lose my temper." He raged and you stood your ground, determined.
"You wouldn't hurt me." You said confidently.
"You don't know that." Arvin spat back and you shook your head.
"You won't. I know what you're trying to do. You think I'm too good for you so you're just trying to push me away, make me hate you but I don't." You said as you took a step towards him.
"You are too good for me!" He shouted, "you can't fix me Y/N, I'm not like all those old people you help, I can't be helped. I'm violent and I'm no good for you." Arvin was trying desperately to get you to see what he did. "What if I lost my temper with you?" He shouted again.
"You have." You pointed out and Arvin furrowed his brows in response. "You're angry right now and look, I'm fine. You haven't tried to hurt me because you won't. You think I'm some perfect woman Arvin but I'm not. I don't want to fix you, I want you for you." You said as you stepped ever so close to him.
Your scent filled his senses and he became almost drugged from how close you were, his heart beating, palms sweaty. He looked at you and the anger washed away and all he was left with was a sadness.
"Y/N," he sighed. "I like you, so fucking much but I'm no good, you have no idea the burden's I carry, what I've done."
"I don't care," you said as you took his face in your hands. "I don't care what you've done. I care about you and how you make me feel. Arvin, you are a good man, you just need to let yourself see it." You smiled at him. "Kiss me." You demanded of him.
Arvin studied you for a moment, studied how close you'd gotten, how he saw no evidence of fear in your eyes, only adoration, for him. Maybe he wasn't a good man but he would always protect you, always make sure the ground you walked on was worshipped. Maybe he didn't think he was good enough for you but you did and how could he deny you? He would always treat you the way you deserved even if he did have flaws.
Arvin took your face in his hands, yours falling over the top of his own as he pulled you towards him, capturing your lips in his own. The kiss was sweet as you wrapped your arms around his neck, one of his hands slipping to cup your neck. The kiss deepened slightly but out of need and longing, he'd wanted this for so long.
"Stay?" You asked as he rested his forehead against your own. "Please? Arvin, I want you, I want to be with you." You spoke and Arvin felt his heart flutter. He was never going to be a danger to you, you were a goddam fucking angel in his eyes.
"Okay. I'll stay." He agreed as he pulled you in for another kiss. He knew he'd have to tell you why he came here, knew he'd eventually have to come clean about his past and he was terrified it would scare you off. He wanted you so badly and the knowledge that you wanted him to, allowed him to let go of his fears. You were his angel and as long as you allowed him to grace your presence, he would.
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writing-on-the-wahl · 3 years
Text
Part 2 of well, whatever this should be called...
(Comment your title suggestions below!)
Part one here- which was based on a prompt by @caker-baker (I hope you enjoy what I’ve done with your idea)
————————————————————
It’d only taken 6 hours, 13 stores, and five dozen ‘no, not that one!’s from Sister, but she’d finally found it. The one.
The dress was the softest pink. She’d almost chosen the blue one, but then her mind had flitted back to Supervillain’s snide comment about primary colors. So pink it was.
And it was fabulous.
The long sleeves and fitted bodice were overlaid in intricate golden embroidery that complimented her favorite gold heels, and the long skirts, also edged in gold, had just enough volume to be perfect for twirling, if in fact, dancing was something they did at this supervillain gala.
Her long brown hair hung in loose waves, one side pulled back with a gold comb. Sister had insisted on doing her makeup, which, admittedly, looked much better than if she’d done it herself.
Hero looked in the mirror, sparkling eyeshadow made her brown eyes glow. She spun in a quick circle, soft skirts flowing around her. Perfect.
“Hero!” Sister darted into her bedroom and held out her hand.
Hero looked at the glittering object in Sister’s open palm. “No! I can’t!”
Sister shook her head, cutting off Hero’s protests. “You can!”
She stepped forward and made a twirling motion with her free hand. Hero reluctantly turned as Sister clasped the delicate floating pearl necklace around her neck.
Hero’s hand felt along the 24 carat chain and freshwater pearls that rested just above her collarbone. “Are you sure? I know it was given to you by...”
Sister draped an arm around Hero as they stood in front of the mirror. “I’m sure. It looks perfect.”
A firm knock sounded at the door, and Hero’s heart jumped into her throat. The reality of what she was about to do slammed into her, and she clutched Sister’s arm.
“Wait! I-“
Sister laughed. “You’ll be fine! You’re going to a fancy event! It’s going to be fun!”
“I know, but...”
Sister pulled her arm free and grasped Hero’s shoulders. “Besides, you’ve worked with him before, so you know he’s not some psycho axe murderer.” Sister shook her shoulders teasingly. “Right!?”
“Right.” Hero responded numbly. Axes weren’t really Villain’s style.
“Right! There’s nothing to worry about!! It’s going to be great! You’re just nervous because you’re a hermit and you haven’t been on a date in like twelve years...” Her voice grew quieter as she strode down the hall towards the front door.
Hero pictured the dozens of villains she’d fought over the years all gathered in one place and dragged in a breath.
Right. Nothing to worry about.
She heard the low sounds of the front door being opened and shut, and quiet greetings exchanged.
“Hero!” Sister called.
She took another deep breath and grabbed her phone before stepping out into the hall.
Villain was turned towards Sister, his $1000 suit fitted to perfection: black, with a gold tie nearly the same color as his hair.
She narrowed her eyes at the tie that matched her own outfit and made them look like a *couple*.
How did he...
Villain caught sight of her as she approached, and his mouth parted slightly before curling into a smile.
“Hero, dear!” He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her in for a hug.
Her heels made her the perfect height to fit in his arms.
Where did that thought come from??
“You look stunning.” The whisper in her ear sent butterflies whirling around her stomach.
Over Villain’s shoulder, Sister wiggled her eyebrows. “He’s hot!” She mouthed.
Hero groaned at the slight chuckle Villain tried to cover up. Going on a date with a mind reader was a terrible idea. Even if her powers made it so only the loudest of her thoughts were in danger of being overheard.
Villain kept his arm around her as he turned her towards the door. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Sister. I promise I won’t keep Hero out too late.” He threw her a wink as he escorted Hero to the dark red sports car.
He helped her into her seat before rounding to the driver’s side.
There was no going back now. Her breathing quickened. She was going to this gala as her civilian identity, which meant putting herself, and her sister, at risk. She’d come prepared, but she still couldn’t help the worm of anxiety gnawing away at her insides.
“There’s no need to be afraid, Hero.” Villain glanced at her before returning his eyes to the road.
The fear was instantly replaced with indignation. “I’m not afraid!” she growled.
Villain laughed as he slid a hand down her arm, fingers sliding under the edge of her sleeve to feel the inside of her wrist. “Your pulse would suggest otherwise.”
Her heart beat faster at his warm touch, and she quickly wrenched her hand away.
“So you read minds, along with a bevy of other mind tricks, and now you’re also a heart rate expert?”
He laughed. “I’m a man of many talents. Who knows? Maybe I’m an axe murderer too.”
Hero groaned and covered her face. “You heard that.”
He chuckled. “You’re hard to read, Hero. Your sister on the other hand...”
Hero cursed internally, wishing she knew how much Sister had given away. The horrifyingly embarrassing options ran through her mind as she watched Villain drive silently through the city. A few turns later, he unconsciously straightened his tie with one hand. Hero eyed the gold silk, remembering her earlier confusion. She hadn’t told him what she was wearing...
“How did you know what color tie to wear?” she blurted.
She stared at his profile as a small smile appeared. “Oh darling, you were practically shouting about your favorite gold shoes when I invited you. I have to admit, it was a bit of a blow to my ego to know your main reason for saying yes was a pair of shoes. If I’d have known in advance, I might have chosen someone else.”
It took a moment for the full extent of his words to hit her.
Hero swallowed. “Chosen? You said I was your last resort!”
He did look at her then, the cocky smirk on his handsome face. “And you believed that?”
Hero froze, struggling to keep her thoughts quiet so Villain couldn’t hear them, but her mind whirled with the emotional whiplash of this car ride.
She wasn’t just a last-minute option?
Why would he have voluntarily chosen her??
Was this some sort of trap? A way to lure her to the event, only to expose her? Kill her? She could take down any of these villains one on one, but if he told them, if they all attacked at once...
He’d said her identity was safe? But why else would he want *her* to go with him...
Her breaths quickened and she barely noticed that they’d pulled to a stop in front of the five-star hotel hosting the gala.
Villain turned towards her then, his hand brushing her neck, resting against her pulse. “Beating like a hummingbird.” He murmured.
His blue eyes were only inches from hers. “You are safe with me, Hero. I’m not going to expose you. You have my word.” His hand moved up to brush a stray curl off her cheek.
Suddenly her heart was racing for a whole different reason.
His lips quirked up. “I love it when your thoughts are loud enough for me to hear.” His eyes flicked down to her lips. “Maybe later, hmm?”
Then he stepped out of the car. Hero sat, cheeks scarlet, as he strode confidently around the car, tossing the keys to a valet before opening her door and escorting her into the glittering ballroom.
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adorerdraco · 4 years
Text
Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 2
PART 1
Summary: PART 2  ! of Draco falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and dealing with the consequences of opening his heart to someone. 
Warnings: angst !!! but just a little fluff as always, BLOOD, violence, more crying, very detailed sectumsempra scene, mentions of death
Words: 4.9K
A/N: omg i can’t believe so many people liked the first one and to everyone who left me a comment, I appreciate you so much you have no idea plsss you guys are so beautiful. but here is part 2 and I hope you guys like it as much as the first oneee !!!!!!!! this one got dramatic. I’m thinking of doing a part 3, but I’m not sure and i also want to make it be mostly fluff so PLS let me knowww <3 i do not own gif. 
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It was an awful feeling; the feeling of needing a specific someone to bring him a peace he so very much lacked in his life. It was a feeling of not being able to feel joy unless he had you by his side. He felt stupid and pathetic knowing he had made an even bigger mess of himself and regrettably of you. He felt more weak too, wondering to himself why he couldn’t stop crying and do what he needs to do without several potions or you with him to get him through the day. 
He didn’t want to need anyone. He didn’t want to need help. He didn’t want to need advice.
“Why can’t I just do this?” he cried to himself one night in the room of requirement, kicking something by his foot across the floor in frustration. He stared at the dead bird in hopelessness, not wanting to move it from its spot in the vanishing cabinet. He had managed to send inanimate objects, but not living things and that was only a discovery he was able to make when you were still in his life.
It had been weeks, since he left you under the tree, broken and in tears. He regressed back into to his old ways of lacking proper self care, of sleeping and eating, his studies being the last thing on his mind, him distancing himself from his Slytherin friends again. It was right back to square one, maybe even below that this time.
In Potions, he didn’t dare look at you, ever. He moved to a seat in the very back of the class where he would be hidden from you and could sulk to himself in peace.
“Mr. Malfoy, forgive me as it is none of my business, but why are you no longer working with Miss Y/L/N?” Slughorn asked him one day as he came by to grade his potion.
“It is nothing of concern, Professor,” Draco answered bitterly, holding back the scowl that wanted to show but deciding against being any more rude to authority. “I just rather work by myself.”
“It’s a shame, Mr. Malfoy, you both were my star pupils,” Slughorn mixes the potion around, eyeing it with a frown. “Now the both of you are falling behind. This potion is not passing, you forgot to mix in the dried periwinkle leaves.”
Draco never noticed how you would glance at him throughout Potions class. Of course, he was ignoring you and you felt that nasty realization every time your eyes landed on the platinum blond.
You felt numb, to say the least. You cried for days and days on end. If you weren’t in class, you were in your dorm, wrapped underneath the covers wondering why someone you shared so much love and time with had dropped you with no explanation. You tried endlessly to get him to talk to you, cornering him in the corridors, going up to him in class, but he would ignore you until you went away. He never once met your eyes, and your heart broke more every time you saw the coldness in his icy gray’s that made you feel like you didn’t even exist to him.
Your roommates and friends had gotten involved, forcing you to take better care of yourself. Staying up and hugging you while you cried. Bringing you meals from the Great Hall into the dorm. Brushing your hair when it started to become matted. Encouraging you to divulge yourself in studies rather than your sadness.
“Y/N, you are so much more than what you’re feeling,” your closest friend whispered to you one night as you cried in her embrace. “You can’t keep going like this. It’s okay to cry and be sad, but this is eating you up. Remember how strong you are. Remember the healer you are trying to be. You’ve helped so many people, inside and out, let your friends help you now.”
You nodded sadly, and finally accepted the help your friends had been trying so desperately to give you. You allowed them to take you out into the Great Hall again for meals. To Hogsmead for a fun day out. To the courtyard where you guys would sit and just talk. It was nice, feeling your old and normal life coming to light again even if it was just for a couple hours. But when you couldn’t sleep at night and your mind wandered off to Draco, you felt that same empty feeling of a gaping hole in your heart sting at you. 
There was nothing you could do or say anymore. The cornering him was getting desperate and made you feel weak. The ignoring was never going to stop. You didn’t cry anymore, forcing yourself to bottle up your feelings for him deep down into your mind, body and spirit to the point where you just tried your best to recognize him as a dream. 
Your brain didn’t know any better, right?
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Draco sat on the floor of his dorm, head resting against the side of his bed as he twiddled with the letter from his mother between his fingertips. His owl, Aquila, sat beside him and enjoyed the loving pets he was giving her with his other hand. It was rare she let him do this, but he figured it was because she felt that he might have possibly needed this. She nibbled on a crumb of a biscuit he gave her that she had brought with her on her journey from home. Draco sighed and opened the letter again, his eyes scanning over the perfect cursive of his mother’s handwriting once more.
My Dearest Draco,
          How are you, my love? I feel as though we have gone too long without writing to each other. I must say, the Manor feels lonely without you and your father here, but the house elves have been keeping me company. They are quite entertaining, some of them. I do hope you enjoy the small pastries I sent with Aquila that the elves also send on their behalf. 
I know the pain you are feeling, my son. I know it wears at you and I am deeply sorry that I cannot change it or help you. Please do entrust in Professor Snape, as he is the only one who can help you and understands your circumstances. You cannot get through this alone.
Please also remember that you are just a boy. In these times of turmoil, it is easy to lose yourself in your own despair. You are young, Draco, only 16 years of life and it has already failed you. Please find it in your heart to locate the little several joys in life that keep you going. Despite your situation, It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there. Do not succumb, it is what he wants. 
I will always love you, and I hope to see you soon. 
All my love,
Mother
He felt tears sting at his eyes, clutching the letter to his chest as if his mother had charmed it with the feeling of a hug. It wasn’t, but he swore he could feel it. He felt sad, knowing she was all alone in that house, but suddenly remembered that his aunt was seeking refuge with her at the Malfoy Manor and his mother left it out for the sake of keeping Bellatrix’s location secret. Seeing as she was a maddened Ex/Present Death Eater and escaped prisoner on the run. The thought of Bellatrix left a bitter and foul taste in his mouth, making him feel even worse that his mother was stuck at home with that beast who was nearly as bad as the Dark Lord himself. He didn’t care that that was her sister, his aunt, she had no empathy for anything, especially not for him. He recalls her telling him right before he went to school, that he should be grateful and honored for being entrusted with a task so important.
As much as Draco wanted nothing to do with his tasks, he didn’t ignore them. He begrudgingly let Bellatrix teach him Occlumency, something he desperately needed to learn and was now a little good at. He had even tried convincing himself that he needed to do this. It was all up to him. He was chosen for this. He hated it, but he was chosen nonetheless. And he would try with everything to save his family and to make them proud, even if it killed him.
He ignored the thoughts of his aunt and his dreadful life options, refocusing on the words his mother wrote to him. They echoed in his mind, imagining her saying them to him. 
“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”
His mind wandered to you, knowing full and well you were are the one and only joy in his life he so deeply desires. His mother’s words hit him hard, to the point where he almost ran out of his room to go look for you. Almost.
But he was stubborn and still couldn’t pull himself out of the mindset he had boxed himself in where he thought being with you would be worse in the end for you than not being with you. 
So he went over to his desk, Aquila following him before flying up to the wooden surface where she perched herself in front of him as he sat down and pulled out a parchment and quill to begin his responding letter for his mother. He thanked her for the pastries, told her he would try his best in confiding in Snape, loosely promised he would fulfill her wishes of him finding some happiness, and gave her his love. He gave the letter to Aquila, smoothing the feathers on the top of her head one last time before she chirped and flew to the window and then out of his room and into the open dark starry sky. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
More weeks had gone by. And then a month. You were seeing less and less of Draco and for a healing heart, it was the best thing for you, but also the worst. He had even began skipping class as much as he could, not that anyone ever noticed, except you and Slughorn of course.
“Miss Y/L/N, may I have a word?” Slughorn came up to you while you were working on a potion with your friend. The same friend who had given up her seat to Draco who she now despised and regretted ever doing in the first place. She gave you and the professor a look before getting up and heading to the front of the class where she began to pick up vials and jars to store the potion.
“Of course, Professor,” you answer with a polite smile.
“I spoke to Mr. Malfoy about a month ago, he seemed rather distraught,” he began, placing a finger over his chin in thought. “I’m beginning to grow worried of the boy! Is there a reason he’s no longer showing up to class?”
You swallowed thickly before responding, “your guess is as good as mine, Professor.”
“Ah, well, one mustn’t pry too much,” he says. “Also, I’m pleased to see your marks improving in the last couple weeks. Keep up the good work, Miss Y/L/N.”
And with that the professor turned around and left to go check on other students, your friend returning.
“What’d he want?” She asked, setting the supplies down on the table.
“Wanted to know about, Mr. Malfoy,” you mocked quietly, your voice turning bitter when the name left your lips. 
You knew Draco’s disappearance was your fault and you felt that twang of hurt beat against your chest thinking about it. That whole conversation with the Professor killed your entire mood. It wasn’t great to begin with, but the feeling of nothing had turned into hurt. 
You were roughly stirring the cauldron, preparing to put the nearly finished potion into the two large jars so it could sit overnight. They were right beside your arm and you felt your elbow collide with the glasses, cringing internally when you heard them crash onto the ground and shatter. Luckily there was nothing in them, but you had still made a mess of glass. In your heat of embarrassment and with the people are you now staring at you, you forgot you could easily clean up your mess with magic so like a klutz, you instead bent down to pick up the shards of glass that scattered the floor with your bare hands.
A loud gasp left your mouth as you began to pick them up, feeling the largest piece of glass in your palm deeply slash the skin of your hand. You dropped it, feeling the blood begin to drip down your arms and onto the floor.
“Oh no, Y/N,” your friend sighed from above you, gripping onto your other arm and lifting you up. “Are you okay?”
The question was meant for your hand, but you felt it hit your soul just as it did whenever someone asked you that question when you were so overwhelmingly not okay. You shook your head no, the pain from your hand and your heart taking over you completely as tears began to trickle down your face. 
Slughorn came up to the table, waving his wand over the mess of the floor and fixed the damage done to the vases and making the small puddle of blood disappear.
“Class is dismissed, students, you are free to go to the Great Hall for lunch,” Slughorn announced and everyone quickly packed up their things and hurried out except for you and your friend. The full-bellied Professor watched you with concern and you turned to your friend where she took your hand in hers and placed it palm up for you.
You shuddered, bringing up your wand to the cut and simply thought your healing spell before watching it completely fade into a faint light pink scar.
“I’m going to explain to Slughorn what happened and put away our stuff,” she says to you, a sad glint in her eyes. “Go clean yourself up and I’ll meet you at our table for lunch with everyone when you’re done.”
You could only pathetically nod before you slung your bag over your shoulder and trudged off into the direction of a bathroom. You decided to go up to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, wanting to be alone from everyone so you could clean yourself up in peace and also have a meltdown. You didn’t know why you wanted to torture yourself with the ghosted memories you shared with Draco in that bathroom, but you still went. 
You took your time getting there and you were only down the hall when you saw the entrance. It was then when you heard a familiar ghastly screaming and wailing. It was horribly loud.
“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!”
Moaning Myrtle floated from the large wooden double doors, screaming so loud it ricocheted off all the walls of the now deathly silent castle. You felt all the blood drain from your face as an awful and sickening feeling had bubbled in your stomach.
“It better not be Draco,” you said to yourself, your legs taking longer strides towards the bathroom. “Please, don’t let it be Draco.”
By now, you were sprinting towards the end of the corridor, throwing your bag to the floor as soon as you reached the doors and flung yourself through and into the destroyed bathroom, stepping into a pool of water that had streaks of crimson red. Your eyes followed the trail of blood, stopping suddenly when you found the source.
A blood-curdling scream twice as loud and stronger than Myrtle’s, left your throat as you tripped over your own feet to reach him. You saw Harry Potter, standing a little ways by the door, a panicked and pained look in his eyes as he tried to understand what he had just done. 
Once you reached Draco’s nearly lifeless body covered in angry red gashes, you fell next to him, his eyes finally meeting yours for the first time in ages. He was breathing raggedly in choked grunts, clutching at his mauled chest as he struggled to breath. The stormy eyes you loved so much were clouded in fear. Nothing but fear.
You shoved your hand into your pocket, searching for your wand and pulled it out hastily. You shakily waved it over his cuts, thinking and saying any spell you knew that came to your mind in the matter of 5 seconds. This was what you did. This was all you did. Why couldn’t you heal him? None of your spells worked.
“I, I can’t heal you,” you sobbed, resorting to putting your hands over his chest at a failing attempt to stop the bleeding. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“n...o,” Draco said weakly and quietly. He mustered up all his remaining strength and placed a bloodied hand over yours, you grabbed it tightly and leaned over him when you realized he was trying to speak. “S-sorry. lo...ve. y...ou.”
It felt like there was a knife in your chest being repeatedly stabbed into your heart and twisted. His eyes closed and you cried harder, knowing you were going to lose him. Everything was happening so fast. You had only been in the bathroom a solid 10 seconds, everything around you moving in a slow blur but so quickly.
It was as if Merlin had answered your pleas, the sound of the door slammed open and a maddened looking Snape rushed inside, pushing Harry roughly to the side and looking down at Draco and then you only momentarily before dropping to his knees beside him and opposite of you.
“Vulnera sanentur,” he began running his wand over the cuts on Draco’s chest and you watched with wide teary eyes as the blood pooling around you began to retreat back into the wounds. He said it again, and once the blood was back in, the cuts began to close. He chanted it one last time, and the cuts had healed into thick and reddened scars. “Miss Y/L/N, please help Draco over to the hospital wing for some dittany, and quickly please. We might be able to help with the scarring, perhaps avoid it completely. I need to deal with, Potter.”
Draco was half conscious, a dazed and confused look in the gray of his eyes as they fluttered open and closed. You noticed the scar beginning to form on his paled face and you bit back a sob. You knew if that scar stayed there, it would only drive him into a deeper hatred for himself.
You quickly got up, Snape picking up Draco and throwing his arm over your shoulders so that you would be able to help him over to the hospital wing which luckily happened to be a hall away from the bathroom. The adrenaline and sheer love for the boy was pumping through your body which had made you feel stronger in basically carrying Draco through the halls. He was dragging his feet, mumbling incoherently and you couldn’t stop crying.
You saw the doors to the hospital wing open, Madam Pomfrey staring at the scene heading towards her in horror. 
“DITTANY!” you called to her. She threw open the doors wider, nodding before she ran back inside in a hurry. A passing seventh year Hufflepuff had dropped all of his books and his bag and linked arms with Draco’s free side, helping you take him inside with much more ease. Madam Pomfrey yelled to rest Draco on the nearest bed and she quickly returned with the dittany, shooing the both of you away from him.
“I’m afraid the two of you are going to have to leave, immediately,” she demands, her hand reaching up to grab the privacy curtain before shielding her and the love of your life from you and the prying eyes of shocked students gathered at the doorway to see what had happened. The Hufflepuff that had helped was already out the door, but you couldn’t bring your legs to move.
“Away from the door!” McGonagall suddenly appeared from behind the crowd of students, a disgruntled look etched into her aged skin. “Return to your house’s common rooms! That goes for you too, Miss Y/L/N.”
She gently placed both her hands on either of your shoulders, guiding you outside the door and out of the hospital wing. She gave you an empathetic glance before grabbing the handles of the doors and shutting them with a loud clang.
The lingering students stared at you in discomfort and grimaces. You looked around, still in a daze and then looked down at your body. You were drenched in blood and water, looking straight out of a horror movie and closely resembling the clothing of the Bloody Baron, Slytherin’s house ghost.
Everything still felt quiet and slow. You didn’t even notice your friends rushing towards you in hysterics, throwing you in hugs as you only stood there, unable to react. You let them pull you away, leading you to your house’s common room, tripping every now and then. You caught a glimpse of Moaning Myrtle in the distance, her cries still very loud and apparent. She had gone around the entirety of Hogwarts wailing the same news that had broken you, only this time you heard the new choice words she had added along the way.
“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER! HARRY POTTER HAS MURDERED DRACO MALFOY!”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
You sat immobile on the edge of your seat besides Draco’s hospital bed. Much to your surprise, Madam Pomfrey had allowed you to stay overnight with the fallen Slytherin Prince. You recognized it might be her way of paying you back from all your countless volunteering and because of that, she trusted you in knowing exactly what to do when it came to the medical field of the wizarding world.
It was around three in the morning, the incident having happened well past twelve hours ago. You were showered now and in a fresh pair of robes, your pajamas holding in your warmth as a cold draft flowed throughout the dark dimly lit room. The hospital wing was tall and large, it felt like a castle in itself, and it only made you feel more feeble. You scooted your chair closer to the bed, placing a hand onto the mattress right next to Draco’s paled slender hand.
Fingertips ghosted over his knuckles, your body shivering at the closeness of the near contact. You didn’t know how he was going to react when he woke up. It was all a waiting game, and your heart squeezed with anxiety as you awaited his regained consciousness. You didn’t forget the words he said to you right before he slipped away. They rang and rattled in your head like a pinball game on loop.
He had told you he loved you.
The thought of him dying and you never being able to tell him you felt the same haunted you. You thanked Merlin that Snape got there when he did. You also made a mental note to hex Harry into the oblivion the next time you got a chance. 
You sighed deeply, your voice quavering as your ran a hand through your tangled hair. His face glistened under the orange lamp on the bedside table, his skin tinged with a grayish undertone and his eye bags deep and dark. The scar you had seen on his face earlier was gone, the skin now just holding a skinny reddened line going across his features as if he was just hit with something. You smiled slightly, knowing it would be gone in the morning and feeling grateful for him that he wouldn’t be scarred with it.
His body was covered in a hospital gown and bandages infused with dittany, but seeing how bad his cuts were before they healed, you knew those would leave something behind no matter what. In your studying towards becoming a Healer, you read about the effects of dark magic and the marks it left behind on its victims. You didn’t know what spell had done what it did to Draco, but it was violent and radiated with darkness. 
The softness of his his skin was met under yours, your hand finally allowing itself to fall over his and you let out a sharp exhale at the touch. It wasn’t like earlier when you were holding onto him for dear life, rough and filled with fear and pain, this time it felt familiar. It felt warm despite the coldness of your skin and his. You shook quietly, another set of tears rippling through your body as you tried your best to not wake him. You sat up and slowly leaned over him, looking down at him to observe his peaceful features. He slept soundly and peacefully, his breathing even and quiet. Even though he almost died earlier today, he looked as though he was having the best sleep of his life. The sleep he gravely needed but seemed to never be able to get. 
Your free hand softly rested on his cheek now and you carefully moved your lips towards his forehead where you placed a long kiss. A stray tear had fallen onto his skin as you pulled away and you frowned, wiping it away with your sleeve before moving your hand up towards his hair. You smoothed it back, the soft blond strands feeling like silk between your fingers. He was a dream, an angel to you. You stood by what you had told him that unfortunate day under the tree, he was good, and you would tell him again and again until he believed it himself.
Just as you pulled back from him, a sharp gasp erupted and he shot up in bed, grabbing and tearing at his gown as breathless quick pants fell from his lips. 
“Hey, Draco, I’m here, you’re okay, relax,” you coo gently, grabbing his hands and holding them tightly in yours so he wouldn’t tear his bandages. Your heart battered against your chest, the waterworks in your eyes beginning all over again. He stared at you, searching your eyes and he began to cry too. The same broken and deep sobbing from months ago you had grown accustomed to hearing. 
He threw himself onto you, crying even harder as his arms wrapped around you, his hand on the back of your head pressing you into his chest. You climbed into the bed in deep shaky breaths so that you were now sitting on your knees between his legs. It was overwhelming, to put it lightly, both of you crying into each other as you remembered the fall out, the lonely days and nights, the wasted opportunities, the endless missing of one another’s presence in their lives.
“I’m sorry,” Draco chokes out. “I never meant to hurt you. I thought that by pushing you away, you would be safer, but I can’t do it anymore. I need you, I love you, Y/N.”
You cradled him in your arms, rocking the two of you back and forth, and you shook your head reverently.
“I forgave you the second I thought I was going to lose you,” you respond quickly. “Merlin, Draco, you scared me to death. I thought you were gone.”
The same words from his mother echoed in his head again and he finally understood what they meant. 
“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”
Darkness was going to arrive one way or another, it was going to steal the rest of whatever life he had left in him one day. It was out of his hands, out of his control. The time to live his life was now. Because he didn’t know when he would ever have this opportunity of love again, of safety, of light. Everything was undefined and unknown and he felt the anguishing regret of all his decisions when he had seen you in the bathroom hovering over him with a hopeless look in your eyes. He promised himself, to Merlin and to the sun, the moon and all the stars that in the 1% chance that he survived that close call with death, he would never abandon you again. His heart pained at the memory of him trying to sputter out his final ‘I love you,’ not knowing whether or not you heard it or if you understood how genuinely he had meant it.
The room was only filled with sniffles and shaky breathing, both of you still in the same rocking position, afraid that if you let each other go, the other is going to disappear.
“Draco,” you say, lifting his head up from the crook of your neck so that he could look you in the eyes. “I love you, too. More than you’ll ever know. Please don’t ever, ever leave again.”
“Not in a million years, darling.”
PART 3
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hannigramficrecs · 3 years
Text
Newly Added Fics 5/16
Hello everyone, sorry again for the slight hiatus! I’ve replied to all the messages in my inbox (at least the ones that were sent to me before this past friday), so if you asked me something before that, be sure to check out my replies!
As usual, I’ve emboldened the fics I really liked and italicized the ones that are incomplete.
Looks Like Love by luvkurai [words: 5,987] — (AU)
After his sister's wedding, Will kisses his childhood housekeeper (and first love).
Betrothed by slashyrogue [words: 3,932] — (AU)
In one month he would marry a total stranger.
Titan Arum by ProxyOne [words: 64,614] — (AU)
Will is a botanist, working in the greenhouse of the local Botanical Gardens. He is getting his life back on track after his divorce, but he can't help but notice someone who keeps coming back to his greenhouse to draw, day after day. A man who seems to have been paying very close attention to him...
Find Me In The Dark by Rising_Phoenix [words: 40,131] — (AU)
After a fateful accident, the marriage of Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter has reached its end. Grief and the inability to stop them from falling apart has brought an irreconcilable distance between the formerly deeply devoted couple. While Hannibal is apathetic towards his husband, ignores him, and is withdrawn, Will has started an affair with fellow teacher Francis and drowns his desperation in more and more alcohol. 
Light of All Lights by whiskeyandspite [words: 20,377] — (AU)
Dracula-like fic without any of the vampires
The Stage Just For You by CarnivalMirai [words: 6,494] — (AU + Age Gap)
Will has landed himself the role of Odette for world-famous choreographer Hannibal Lecter's rendition of The Swan Lake.
There Will Be Bells by Entropyrose [words: 36,639] — (A/B/O)
In Georgian England, male omegas are very rare diamonds. Baron and Baroness Graham have a plan to build their wealth and social status by offering their son Will's hand in marriage to a mysterious older Duke, an Alpha named Lord Hannibal Lecter. Will's personal feelings need not apply.
Alpha Mart by slashyrogue [words: 63,164] — (A/B/O)
Will needs an alpha. After years of fake knots, half-assed suppressants, and his own damn hand during heats he’s reached the end of his rope. He doesn’t do dating so he decides to waste his life savings and hype with the current trend. Alpha Mart.
Enchanted By Your Name by CarnivalMirai [words: 9,207] — (A/B/O + PWP)
“Now, my husband would prefer it if I got the job done quickly.” He says, slashing down the back of each gag as he passes each man, watching as the silk falls gracefully to the floor. “However, I want to have some fun. Considering you’ve troubled my husband so much… it’s only fair, right?” One of the men whimpered fearfully. Or: The name "Will Graham" is a name you'll only ever hear once.
I've Been Building Black Ships by cloudsarefluffy [words: 8,116] — (A/B/O + AU)
Alpha Hannibal moves to the States with his sister Mischa after being overtly done with the fancy life of a count, and his blind omega neighbor gives him an insight into love that he never quite expected.
A Rare Find by hit_the_books [words: 5,379] — (A/B/O + AU)
Life as an omega bookseller can be quite lonely. However, as the owner of Graham’s Books, Will Graham is reasonably content. That is until he meets—long-time customer and crush—Doctor Hannibal Lecter in person for the first time. Attraction blossoming between them both, Will agrees to a dinner date with the good doctor.
We All Have a Hunger by 1ntothew1ld [words: 12,260] — (A/B/O + Age Gap)
Hannibal will ensure a properly slow and painful death for an alpha who allowed a beautiful young omega to go to waste as this one has. Too skinny for his own good, a stuttering and humble mess. The likes of the omega in front of him belonged at Opera houses and in million-dollar mansions, not scrounging for his next meal. Meek and afraid in some disheveled row house. When he finally looked back up the alpha had to conceal the utter punch to the stomach that meager glance was, blue eyes full of innocence but also hunger.
The Doctor Is In by Kummerspeck7 — (A/B/O + PWP)
Will nearly scoffed. "You can't expect me to believe you'd want anything other than a delicate flower to adorn your side, keep your ostentatious home, bare you the exact number of children you want--No more, no less-- all while being available at your whims." "Not at all." Hannibal disagreed. "I would no more put a wilting flower in my home than in a bouquet given as a gift. Tell me, Will, is that how you are treated? Forbidden from work, cloistered inside and used at Mr Brown's discretion?" "My Alpha's discretion." Hannibal looked pointedly at the curve of Will's neck, free from a single scar. "Not yet he isn't."
Teenage Wildlife by writtenbyizzy [words: 10,163] — (Age Gap + Sugar Daddy)
While reluctantly prowling Grindr for a sugar daddy to pay for his dog Bean's vet bills Will comes across Hannibal, and gets far more than he bargained for.
Just As Poised As I Remember by CarnivalMirai [words: 5,721] — (Age Gap + School)
When Will was in high school he had an incredibly handsome psychology teacher-- tall and sharp with a thick European accent. And now, a decade later, said psychology teacher-turned psychiatrist... just swiped right on him.
We Can Chase the Dark Together by K_R_Closson [words: 16,615] — (Fantasy)
Will tips him and Hannibal off the cliff. Instead of hitting the water, he wakes up in his bed, several years in the past. His first, and only, priority is to find Hannibal again.
We Killed a Dragon Last Night by inameitlater [words: 88,150] — (Fantasy)
Will remembers falling. He wakes up months before Jack got him to work for him. Months before he met Hannibal for the first time. Free from his past he decides to change events and meet Hannibal again.
My Only Constant Is You by TheSilverQueen [words: 25,369] — (Fantasy)
Hannibal Lecter is an immortal who can never die. Will Graham is a time traveler who can never stay in one place. Perhaps that is why they are perfect for each other.
Motinos Kalba by Lyla_Joy [words: 6,040] — (Fluff)
Five times Hannibal Lecter spoke Lithuanian on accident and one time he meant too.
You Make Me Feel (Good) by sourweather [words: 7,190] — (Fluff)
Will Graham has sensory issues. The world gets too loud, he gets overstimulated easily, but most of all he hates being touched. He never expected someone to work so hard to make him comfortable, to be so patient with him.
Pick Me Up by sourweather [words: 6,053] — (Fluff)
Will doesn't go to bars much. He doesn't end up needing a ride home much. But when he does get drunk, he always wants to ask Hannibal to pick him up.
Hard to Get by JSinister32 [words: 5,561] — (Jealousy)
Will and Hannibal had been broken up for six months. When confessions are made during a work function, can they find it within themselves to forgive?
Polar Opposites by Lyla_Joy [words: 19,513] — (Kidnapping)
“Says the cannibalistic serial killer who knocked me out and is now holding me hostage,” sassed Will. The Ripper didn’t smile but his eyes crinkled in the corner. “Please call me Hannibal.”
Fate Is A Keen-Eyed Hound by LydiaFearing [words: 5,890] — (Mischa)
Hannibal may be a successful, charming psychiatrist but Mischa worries that her brother is lonely so she gifts him a puppy. Hannibal reluctantly falls for his little dog but wants to get involved with time-consuming FBI work and not just anyone can be allowed to look after his pet. Luckily, Alana can recommend a boarding kennel in Wolf Trap.
The Significant Other: The Will and Hannibal Edition by house_of_lantis [words: 18,431] — (Murder Husbands)
After their terrible and abrupt break up, Will and Hannibal attempt to maneuver through their social circles, side step ongoing gossip, and deal with the fact that Will knows the truth of Hannibal. Through impossible odds, Will and Hannibal do find their way to each other again.
Dancing with the Beast by proser [words: 86,347] — (Murder Husbands)
In order to catch a mediocre serial killer, Will must pose as Hannibal's date for a series of pretentious social events. Hannibal is dramatic and jealous as ever, and Will is having a great time without the encephalitis. Of course, it's a love story.
Arriving at the Crossroads by HigherMagic [words: 7,558] — (Mpreg)
"You haven't been my psychiatrist for a long time," Will echoes. "But you've been my friend. You've helped me. With…" He gestures vaguely to his head. "When my brain was on fire. On consults. When it's dark and I need a guiding light." "It pleases me very greatly to be a source of comfort and reassurance for you, Will," Hannibal says. "I have wanted to be that for you, for a long time."
The Hanged Man by justhavesex [words: 13,076] — (Mpreg)
Will Graham had never wanted children before, but he had never considered it to be a consequence of his omegan brain not finding anyone worthy, but the moment he had met Hannibal Lecter he had been filled with want. In which a dinner party one-night stand results in a pregnancy that changes Will's entire life.
I Don't Even Like Lana Del Rey by perpetuallycaffeinated [words: 4,328] — (PWP)
The tension and low thrum of arousal were making Will speak impulsively. He knew this, but he’d just finished his drink. There was nothing he could use to stop the question, blunt and presumptuous and rude. “So, what, you’re my daddy?”
A Bad Combination In The Dark by perpetuallycaffeinated [words: 1,957] — (PWP)
When a nerve wracked Will Graham accidentally cuts his hand on Dr. Lecter's letter opener, things quickly get out of control.
The Best Bait by sourweather [words: 3,327] — (PWP)
Will is a good fisherman, he knows which bait to use for his catch. Will seduces Hannibal at a party by being sexy.
Whimsy by justheretoreadhannibalfics [words: 3,001] — (School)
Doctor Hannibal Lecter is standing in as a teacher while Professor Graham is out of town on a case. The students start to kind of like him, and become very invested in his love life.
Callipygian by ProxyOne [words: 2,260] — (Season 1)
Hannibal has a lot of sketches of Will, which he normally keeps safely away. One day though, Will shows up unexpectedly and Hannibal is caught unawares, and unprepared.
L'appel Du Vide by sourweather [words: 5,413] — (Season 1)
Will is hiding things from his coworkers. From himself. But Doctor Lecter knows.
Friends Don't Frame Friends: A Lesson for a Clueless Cannibal by LadyFelixTristis [words: 5,041] — (Season 1)
Ear? What ear? Will Graham doesn’t try to thwart Hannibal Lecter’s plans for him. He just does. By accident. And then on purpose.
For All My Pride, You Were the Fall of Me by nobetterlove [words: 13,212] — (Season 2)
After being released from the BSHCI, Will grabs the dogs he can't live without and leaves without a trace
Letters to God by CarnivalMirai [words: 4,698] — (Season 3+)
Will writes letters to Hannibal every day after his incarceration. But they never make it.
Blankets, Coffee Cups, and Christmas Morning by sourweather [words: 6,352] — (Season 3+)
Hannibal wants to enjoy the domesticity. The love, the closeness, the being Known. But something about his life with Will makes him want to lash out.
All These Fictionary Tales by ProxyOne [words: 18,492] — (Season 3+)
After the fall, Hannibal is presumed dead. Will has been declared dead. But Will isn't willing to believe that Hannibal would just abandon him like that 
Seduction by BloodunderMoonlight [words: 7,086] — (Season 3+)
“For fuck’s sake, Hannibal.” Will glared at him, brimming with wrath he had only seen behind Will’s gun. He had no doubt Will would draw out a knife from beneath the duvet or pillows, but clearly words were enough to make him gobsmacked—“Are you a fucking virgin or monk? If all these can’t get you to bed then I don’t know what can.” Hannibal stood gaping at Will.
Blood, Cedar and Dog Hair by sourweather [words: 3,351] — (Season 3+)
Something terrible happens while Hannibal is in prison. Something he never prepared for.
Hidden Potential by sourweather [words: 20,789] — (Soulmates)
The first time you make eye contact with your soul mate, you see a vision of their greatest accomplishment. They call it your Peak. Unfortunately for Will Graham, his soul mate's Peak is a vision of blood and horror. Fortunately for Hannibal Lecter, his soul mate's is too.
Karoliai by slashyrogue [words: 4,577] — (Sugar Daddy)
Will works at a jewelry store. He has worked there for three months and sold less than any other person there. His boss tells him to sell something by the end of the day or he may not have a job tomorrow. If there was one thing Will hated more than having to talk people into buying jewelry they didn’t need, it was trying to do it two days before Valentine’s Day.
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