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youngbugandtonystank · 3 years

Note

what's the difference between what wanda did to those people in wandavision and what tony did with ultron?

I have so many asks about this. Hate asks, and people wondering what’s going on. This is the only one I’m answering.

Both of them are responsible for their actions. I’ve seen people try and take away either Tony’s responsibility for that or Wanda’s engagement and accountability.

In Tony’s case, the Ultron program was supposed to be a global peacekeeping program to protect the people, acting as a suit around the world to prevent events like the Battle of New York. He was doing it in the name of peace and safety. Tony was rightfully scared because he was the only one who knew what was coming. Wanda intentionally enhanced that fear in him and this drove him to create Ultron with Bruce. He has responsibility for it. Same as Bruce. He owns up to this, he took full responsibility and agreed that they needed to be regulated.

Tony Stark: A few years ago, I almost lost her, so I trashed all my suits. Then, we had to mop up HYDRA... and then Ultron. My fault.

Tony Stark: There's no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less, we're no better than the bad guys.

Tony Stark: That's good. That's why I'm here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stop manufacturing.

If people think he needs to be in jail for it, then I’m guessing the rest of the Avengers too since all of them have made mistakes and killed people too. As a matter of fact, after the events of Wandavision, I’m sure that Wanda should be in the Raft, but because she’s ‘a poor baby’ yall won’t think she deserves that.

SPOILERS

It’s a big possibility that we don’t have all the info about what happened in Wandavision but we’re going to go with what we know so far.

In Wanda’s case, she did it to appease her grief and pain, and I can understand why she would get to that point, she’s been through a lot and maybe she was about to lose her mind. Instead of recruiting Wanda after the Sokovia incident, they should’ve given this girl treatment for her mental health problems. She just lost her brother and passed through a very traumatic war zone, of course she needs assistance. Cap and Natasha were the ones responsible for her because they were training the ‘new’ avengers. Sam was with them and he used to be a counselor to veterans with PTSD. He could’ve helped Wanda with some of her traumas. As shown in the series, Wanda did the whole hex business before meeting Agatha, which means creating that little reality was all Wanda’s responsibility. Hayward and Agatha did exactly what Wanda did to Tony (and the avengers/other people) in AOU. They manipulated her and played with her emotional traumas. Hayward showed her Vision’s body parts and Agatha started to pull strings to know how Wanda did what she did and her real powers while orchestrating against her.

Both of them have made mistakes. No one is better than the other. I don’t understand why some fans want to make someone responsible more than the other or blame one character for the other. While Wanda gave Tony that vision and pushed his self-destructive side to obsess over saving the world, he did create Ultron, what Tony didn’t predict was that the robot was going to corrupt itself. Same with Wanda, while Agatha and Hayward contributed to her trauma, she held hostage and isolated 3,892 people to create her perfect reality, ripping these people away from their identities and free will to fit her own fantasy. Don’t turn this into ‘omg poor her, it’s Tony fault that she’s this way'. I can’t believe I have to repeat this but you don’t see Peter Parker obsessively looking for the person who manufactured the gun instead of the criminal who actually killed Uncle Ben. Ridiculous that I have to repeat this example.

Oh and about Vision’s body (damn yall have a gift to turn everything into Tony’s fault for some reason). I can’t believe some of you think Tony (while grieving for 5 years) would give Vision to Hayward. You’re either pulling stuff out of your asses or you didn’t pay attention to the show. Maria Rambeau founded and was the Director of S.W.O.R.D. In 2018 (when IW happened), this is where she came up with a new policy within S.W.O.R.D. to ground snapped agents in case they ever returned. Maria was diagnosed with cancer, then two years later (2020), she passed away. Then, Hayward was promoted to Director of S.W.O.R.D., in his first years (2020-2022) he refocused the organization’s work from extraterrestrial operations to robotics, nanotechnology and artificial intelligence, etc. There, that was the 5 years. Then in 2023 it’s when he started project Cataract, which revolved around rebuilding Vision as a sentient weapon. Tony was dead when this happened. How come yall don’t get this part? I don’t understand, do you really think his dead corpse signed some papers to give Vision to those people? LMAO

Instead of thinking Tony would give up Vision just like that, think (possibilities):

Maria was the head of S.W.O.R.D., she might have just been keeping his body safe without doing anything with him. Maybe she trusted Hayward and he, obviously, betrayed her because he’s turning her organization into something else after her death.

One of the Sokovia Accords regulations states that the use of technology to bestow individuals (the term ‘enhanced individual’ in this book is defined as any person, human or otherwise, with superhuman capabilities) with innate capabilities is strictly regulated by the government, as is the use and distribution of highly advanced technology. Vision signed those accords ('I'm saying there may be a casualty. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict... breeds catastrophe. Oversight...oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand’) The Avengers were no longer be a private organization and they operate under the supervision of the United Nations. This means they (UN) were the ones that referred Vision’s body to S.W.O.R.D., to a trustworthy leader, Maria.

Vision died in Wakanda, not in New York. Tony was missing for 22 days after the snap, the rest of the avengers should’ve taken responsibility for his body.

Why is it always Tony’s fault but never consider that other parties are also involved in this?

I want to address some other asks with this one. I know some of you are angry because people are starting to blame Tony all over again, so a few things to remember:

Tony did not create the Accords. The Accords were the result of all the collective actions the Avengers have done in their superhero careers. All of them have made mistakes and the collateral damage of that was taken into consideration by the government and 117 countries around the world. He signed the accords because he knew that he could amend them with the support of the rest of the avengers and he knew about Thanos (something big was coming).

Obadiah Stane (it’s so bizarre for me seeing that some people don’t know who this guy is, I’m guessing that the people who are watching Wandavision are too young to remember or didn’t watch the Iron Man movies at all which is highly probable) was the one selling weapons to the wrong people, not Tony. Obadiah was the CEO of Stark industries and became second-in-command for two decades. He grew jealous of Tony and began cooperating with the Ten Rings in Afghanistan, selling them Stark Industries weapons illegally. Imagine blaming all of it on Tony when Obadiah basically murdered thousands only because he felt a little green. If someone who you trust (he had no reasons to doubt Obadiah since he was like a second father-figure for him) does something behind your back (take into consideration that people like Pepper; who was Tony’s assistant and had knowledge of all of Tony’s activities and responsibilities, Rhodey; who was the liaison between the military in the department of acquisitions and Stark Industries, and Happy Hogan; who was his personal bodyguard and Head of Security of Stark Industries, didn’t know what Stane was doing either), how are you going to know about it? Tony trusted him. And when he realized what was going on he immediately stopped all of it. He worked hard to be better and people overlook that because they want other characters to look better.

Don’t act like Tony was the only one assisting the military. All of the avengers assisted in one way or another. Natasha (who used to be an assassin) was in the Red Room, trained in the Black Widow Program in association with Leviathan and the Soviet Armed Forces, served for KGB, etc. Bruce Banner used to work for the United States government and was commissioned to create a super serum for them. Same goes with the rest, Sam, Clint, etc. Steve Rogers was a soldier lmaoooooooooooooo like, what happened to Tony with Obadiah happened to Steve with SHIELD/HYDRA in TWS. He trusted the people working in there (SHIELD), served for them, did missions for them and as soon as he found out what they were doing behind his back he turned against them.

Knowing all of this, how is Tony always the villain for yall? I’m guessing because Tony’s popularity in the MCU, but still, aren’t yall tired of not understanding the plot and having people repeat it to you constantly? Watch the movies if you want to understand the franchise, people. Stop following the crowd.

Also, Wanda is not a kid, she’s a 35 year old woman in Wandavision, she was 26 in AOU and 27 in CW. Hardly a child. Tony had almost her same age (38) when he realized Obadiah was selling illegal weaponry behind his back. The only reason people don’t fully forgive Tony is because 1. he’s a man and 2. he’s a billionaire. Even if Wanda was poor she still killed and hurt many people over the course of her life. Stop trying to make Tony the villain only to downplay Wanda’s actions.

Both have killed people, both have made mistakes. They’re both responsible for them.

#wanda maximoff #wandavision #vision #tony stark #avengers #marvel #mcu #this is the only ask I'm answering about this #exhausting

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dreamkidddream · 3 years

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Helllo, I hope all is well, may you do Beel with scenario 3, thank you! I hope I’m not late to this!!

Beel is literally so sweet but can be so oblivious sometimes lmao but I still love him tho 🧡 reader is gender neutral!

Also this got kinda long my bad 😭

Prompt Scenario: “Person B hiding in a closet to jump out and surprise Person A, but Person A just keeps not going near the closet by chance.” with Beelzebub!

Today is the day.

After plenty of time spent planning, you’re going to surprise a demon: a demon who won’t accidentally kill you if they do get scared.

You’re going to surprise Beel.

You see, you just found out that you won two all you can eat vouchers for Ristorante Six through a bet with some classmates, and you knew how excited and beyond happy Beel would be if you invited him to come with you (since there is NO way you could eat all that food by yourself, and free food equals happy Beel, so it’s a win-win). So what better way to tell him than as a surprise? There was only one problem.

You have not seen Beel at all today. And you’ve been in the closet going on two hours.

You know that he doesn’t have anything planned today, you double checked with him before you sneaked in the closet! So why isn’t he here yet? You bet 100% that he’s stuffing his face as usual, but he would’ve texted you by now to see if you wanted to tag along! Or maybe he got so hungry again that he forgot-

You heard the door open and close.

You held your breath when you heard a growl echo in the room.

“Ah, I’m so hungry...”

Oh thank goodness, it’s just Beel and his empty hole of a stomach (you still forget how his stomach could sound just like Cerberus). Now’s your chance! You’ll wait till he inches towards the closet, then jump out with the tickets and yelling out “SURPRISE!” Should you throw your arms up? Should you try to jump into his arms? You know that he’ll catch you, his reflexes are scary good like that.

“Maybe I should use the emergency snack stash in the closet.”

Oh man now’s your chance! His steps are inching closer and closer to the door. Okay, on the count of three. One...two...THRE-

“No, that’s MC stash whenever they come over. I don’t want to eat it and then we can’t share anything...”

You can just see the frown forming on his face and him rubbing his hands together all nervous. “But maybe they won’t mind?”, he began making his way towards the closet again. You gripped the tickets tighter, mentally preparing yourself to launch-

“No, I better not. I don’t want to upset MC. It has some of their human snacks and they’ll be sad if I ate them all now. Maybe I should see if Belphie kept Madam Scream’s custard, I could always buy him another one later...oh I could buy one with MC! But where are they...”

Oh my DIAVOLO.

Out of all the times that Beel is being considerate with someone else’s food is the time that you don’t need him to be. Why does he have to be so caring and soft all the time?!

You are ready to pound your head against the wall.

You’re ready to give up and just open the door when it sounds like he’s...sniffing something? His stomach growl filled the air, and then he was stomping towards the closet, quicker than you could process it.

You practically screeched when the door was yanked open, Beel peering down at you with a hungry look in his eyes, which then turned to confusion, then cheerful. Here you are, fallen on your butt, the vouchers stuck on your sweaty palm, petrified.

“I thought I smelled you in here!”

“Smell...?”, it came out so small and you swear that you felt your voice crack. Oh this is embarrassing. Not only did the surprise fail, but now you stink!

He nodded, “I thought I was just smelling your snack stash, but you always smell really good, so it’s not hard to find you. And I have the best sense of smell in the house. But why are you hiding in the closet? Did you get hungry too?”

“No, I was trying to surprise you, but I failed,” you sighed out. You forgot how Beel can practically sniff out anything, being the Avatar of Gluttony and all, he had to have a good sense of taste and smell. Wait, he doesn’t know why you’re in here, so you could still-

“What’s that in your hand?”

He gasped and snatched your wrist, lifting you up as you squeaked. “Is that two all you can eat vouchers for Ristorante Six?! MC, how did you-“

So much for the surprise, huh?

You must’ve zoned out over your failure, because the next thing you knew, you were being tossed over Beel’s shoulder, staring at the ground in shock.

“MC, I’m hungry.”

You gulped.

“Wait can I atleast change first before you go?!”

“There’s no time to waste, we need to go. Now.”

“But Beel-“

Your cries were ignored as you both (or rather Beel) raced to the restaurant, you still being carried on his shoulder.

Lucifer is not a happy camper right now.

It’s past midnight, and he had to come out and personally apologize to the owner of Ristorante Six because his younger brother still doesn’t know how to control his raging appetite and his rage in general when he is being denied food. And also because of a certain human who thought that giving the Avatar of Gluttony an all you can eat voucher would fully satisfy his hunger.

You and Beel both see him tapping his fingers meticulously, no doubt deciding on some sort of punishment. But luckily (or rather unluckily), he’s too tired to think of something right now, but he rest assured that he will have something by tomorrow. So no chance of escaping punishments.

Well that sucks. You didn’t know that Beel would go to that far after they told him they couldn’t serve him anymore (but you couldn’t blame them, Beel ate literally everything, and they didn’t have enough food for the other diners. They were even starting to run out of water and bread, and you would have never thought that was possible). You should have known better that his appetite probably wouldn’t have been fully satiated, but you couldn’t help it when you saw how his face lit up once you were both there. You knew it was because of the food, but Beel swore that it tasted better because he was with you.

Either way, you’re fine getting in trouble if it meant to see Beel smiling, even if it wasn’t for long.

Bonus:

“MC, I’m sorry I got us in trouble.”

He’s giving you that puppy dog look, the look that’s hard to stay mad, that’s hard to be mad at. “It’s okay Beel, I’m not mad. I still had fun, and even though we aren’t exactly allowed back right now, it was worth it right? You still had fun, and that’s all that matters.”

He stopped you before you could say goodnight by grabbing your hands, gaze turning serious. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Beel it’s okay, I told you I’m not upset-“

“But I am. You were just trying to do something nice for me, and I messed it all up.” He was sulking, his shoulders beginning to slouch. “It won’t sit right with me.”

Then a genius idea came to you. This could be very beneficial for you both.

“I know how you can make it up to me.”

“You do?” His head shot up. “How?” His eyes practically begged you to tell him.

Lucifer was both shocked and amused at the sight he saw.

Here Beel was, cooking breakfast (human breakfast to be exact), without eating the food. When he went to question him what exactly brought this on (he was still getting punished, but if this attitude kept up it might not be as severe), Beel only said one thing.

“I’m making it up to MC.”

He then put the food on a tray (that was even adorned with a flower and was that fresh squeezed orange juice?!), and promptly left the kitchen. So the human got his brother who ate everything in sight to make breakfast for them and not eat a single piece?

You continue to surprise him at every turn.

“MC, are you up?”

The sight of you tangled in his covers, dressed in one of his old shirts, is a sight that he can get used to. When he heard you groan and mumble out something (maybe a good morning?), he brought the tray and put it on his nightstand. “I made you something, and don’t worry, I didn’t eat a single piece, but I was tempted to because it smells so good...”

“You can have some Beel.” You sat up, stretching and overlooking the tray. He wasn’t lying when he said that this smells good, because it’s making your mouth water.

“No, it’s your breakfast, and I ate a little bit of mine earlier. Besides, the coupon says that I can’t have a piece and we have to follow it.”

If you would have known making some homemade “Beel Favors” coupons at two in the morning would make him feel better and get you treatment like this, you would have done this a long time ago, with him and the other brothers. But Beel is such a sweetheart, and you would feel bad if you just took advantage of him.

“Now, say ‘ahh’.”

“Beel,” you started to chuckle, “you don’t have to feed me.”

“But I want to, and the coupon says that I have to so...please?”

You don’t have it in you to say no, so you open your mouth, even mimicking the sound, as he gently fed you.

You both knew that the coupon said the feeding part is optional, but who were you to deny such a face? And he said please too, so you couldn’t refuse him now!

If he kept this up, you might have to redeem your 10 free kisses coupon early. But you don’t think he’ll mind if you do.

If anything, he’ll make the kisses unlimited if it’s from you.

#obey me x reader #obey me reader insert #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me beel x reader #beel x reader #beelzebub x reader #dream’s 100 + 200 followers prompt special 💙

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atlabeth · 3 years

Text

neighborly things - sokka x fem!reader

summary: reader can’t make things for shit. thankfully, she has a cute and crafty neighbor willing to help her.

a/n: im so sorry lmao. i have requests and i have 2 series that havent been updated in like a month but sometimes i just need to write a stupid little oneshot to get back in the writing mood. i did this in an hour

im not a screwdriver expert so dont come at me if some of this info is wrong lmao

wc: 1.6k

warning(s): some cursing but otherwise pure fluff. also i didnt proofread im SORRY im pretty sure they laugh grin and smile like 200 times

“Dammit!”

Anyone unfortunate enough to have a place near you during this time would have heard the phrase on more than twenty occasions, and it wasn’t even noon yet. You had gotten the parts in the mail to put together a new dresser a couple days ago, and had finally decided to take on the task. You didn’t know if it was because you were inexperienced with furniture or just lacked basic comprehension skills, but it was proving to be no less than Herculean.

You threw the screwdriver at the wall and fell back to the floor as you let your arms sprawl out above you. You had been trying to screw in a part for no less than thirty minutes, and if a miracle didn’t happen right about now, you were going to lose your mind.

Your head snapped towards the door when she heard a knock, and your brows creased. “God?” You muttered as you got up, wondering if you had actually thought a miracle into existence.

You weren’t greeted by a deity when you opened the door, but the man standing in front of you was pretty damn close. With ocean blue eyes, hair pulled back in a ponytail with shaved sides, and toned arms, he was a sight to behold. But you had no idea why he was in front of your door.

“Hey, are you okay?” He questioned, genuine concern in his tone.

“Um, yeah, why?” You were trying to rack your brain for any memory of this guy — because you knew you would remember him if you had seen him before — but to no avail. “Also, who are you and why are you here?”

“Right,” he chuckled. “My name’s Sokka. I’m your neighbor; I live—” he gestured at the door just next to your place, “—over there. Moved in a couple weeks ago, so that’s probably why you don’t know me. I’ve just been hearing a lot of cursing and loud noises coming from your place, so I figured I would stop in and see what was going on.”

“Oh. That’s.. very considerate of you, Sokka. I’m just…” you sighed and chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. “I’m just trying to put together a dresser, and it’s not going well at all. That latest sound you heard was the culmination of my rage. I threw a screwdriver at the wall.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” he laughed. “Listen. I don’t wanna intrude on you or anything, but I happen to be pretty good at putting things together. I had to do a lot of furniture construction when I first moved in, plus I’m the one all my friends call when they need help with putting anything together. I could probably help you with whatever’s troubling you.”

“Are you serious?”

“Oh, no. I just go door to door joking around with people, asking if they need help with their furniture, sometimes I ask if their refrigerator is running? It really gets a kick out of them.”

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly and stepped aside so he could enter your apartment. “Thank you so much, Sokka. I’ve read the instructions a million times, I seriously don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

He crouched down and picked up the manual, turning to a dog-eared page and skimming over the instructions. He pointed at the screwdriver you had thrown against the wall and glanced back at you. “Is that the one you’ve been using?”

You closed and locked the door behind him then walked over to the wall, picking up the unfortunate victim of your anger and spinning it in your hands. “Yeah, why?”

“Do you know what kind it is?”

“Um.. maybe? God, I don’t know. I think it’s a Phillip’s head?”

Sokka laughed and shook his head, holding up the manual so you could see it. “That’s where you’re going wrong. You need a Pozidriv for these screws — they’re similar enough that anyone can make a mistake.”

You stared at Sokka in complete amazement — apparently, your savior lived next door, and he came in the form of a handsome guy with basic knowledge on putting furniture together. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you said as you walked over and took the booklet from himl. You flipped through it a couple times and read over the part, shaking your head in disbelief.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” you repeated, louder this time. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get that thing to- to work, to screw, to— whatever you call it?”

“It’s actually to—”

“Thirty minutes!” You interrupted, earning a small chuckle from Sokka. “Thirty damn minutes that I have been trying to get that screw in, and it’s all because I was using the wrong screwdriver. Why would they make screwdrivers that are so similar but aren’t interchangeable?!”

He shrugged and held up his hands. “Don’t ask me — I don’t make the rules, I just follow them. But like I said; this dresser might fall apart if you keep using this thing. I actually have a Pozidriv back at my place, I can go get it and we can finish this up together.”

“God, that would be the biggest help,” you admitted. “But I don’t wanna take up your time — I don’t know how I would even repay you.”

“I’m doing this because I want to help you,” he said. “You don’t have to repay me. Think of it as… as a neighborly thing.”

“A neighborly thing?” you repeated with a laugh. “Well, if you’re offering, I’m definitely not going to refuse.”

“I am offering,” Sokka winked. “And unless you want to be at this for another three days, I think you should take that offer.”

You pretended to deliberate over it before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I’ll let you help me. I mean, really you should be thanking me for this brilliant opportunity to, um.. hone your skills.”

He laughed, a brilliant sound that made your heart sing, and nodded as he went back to the door. “Thank you so much for letting me put together this dresser. Truly, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Then I’m happy to be of assistance.”

Sokka grinned then unlocked and opened the door. “I’ll be right back, then we can get started.”

Once he got back, the two of you got to work. The next three hours passed so quickly as you and Sokka talked about everything from the work you did to people in your lives (no girlfriend, thankfully), to exchanging stories — even the silence, though rare, was comfortable.

Sokka pushed the last drawer into its place then clapped his hands as he stood up, admiring the fruits of your labor. “And that’s it! We’re done.”

“Wait, we’re done? Already?” You set down the instruction manual and stood up as well, backing up to Sokka’s position to see what he saw. “Wow, that looks.. that looks just like the picture. We are good at this! Well, you’re really good at this, I’m good at keeping you entertained. But still!”

You held your hand up for a high five and he laughed, but not without meeting it with a satisfying clap.

“It does look pretty good,” he admitted. “And not only do you have a brand new, fully functioning dresser, you also had the priceless experience of spending three hours with the neighbor you know nothing about.”

“That’s not true,” you countered. “I know that you’re really good at putting things together, you’re a genius when it comes to anything math or science, and you hate blueberries.”

Sokka snickered and brushed his hands off on his jeans. “That’s everything there is to know.”

“I dunno, Sokka. You seem like a pretty interesting guy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s not every day that someone offers to put together a whole dresser just because they feel bad.”

“Well—” he tore off a blank part of the instruction manual and picked up a spare pen from the counter, then put it up against the wall as he scribbled something on it. Sokka put the pen down and handed the slip of paper to you with a smile. “If you ever need any more help with furniture, then call me.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up as you took the paper. Your fingers brushed ever so slightly as you took the slip of paper, and you decided to just go for it. You bit back a grin and tried to sound as innocuous as possible. “And if I want to get to know you beyond the blueberries?”

Sokka laughed and leaned against the doorframe. “Definitely call me.”

“Great.”

The two of you smiled at each other like idiots for way too long before a notification from his phone broke the silence. He jumped from the sudden noise and dug his phone out of his pocket, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, my sister just texted me and I gotta get over to her place.” Sokka started towards the door then paused and turned around. “I actually had a lot of fun doing this, though. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You knew you had that same smile on your face, but it just wouldn’t go away. His energy was contagious. “Definitely.”

“Great.” He winked at you one last time then left, closing the door behind him, and finally snapping you out of your spell.

You leaned against the dresser and stared at the slip of paper in your hands, committing the number to memory.

You were definitely going to take him up on that offer.

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin

#avatar the last airbender #avatar #atla #avatar the last airbender fic #atla fic #avatar fic #sokka #sokka atla #sokka avatar #sokka fic #sokka x reader #sokka x reader fic #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #avatar x reader #avatar the last airbender x reader #sadie writes

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t0wnspersonb · 4 years

Text

Say My Name (Todoroki Shoto x Reader)

im-blossoming

Wow you’re doing so amazing with your fanfiction!!! Can you write something with Shouto where he gets jealous bc the reader is a nice person and he think she’s flirting with other guys,, and they argue and smut ensues. I hope that makes sense🤍

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

So I am taking requests if any of you wanted me to write anything else:) again, I’m not that good at writing and I’m just barely getting started on writing smut. So just bare with me ya’ll lmao. Obviously these precious little babies are aged up because we definitely don’t stan for any underage bullshit. But yeah we all love SHOTO!!! I might love Bakugo more though (das my baby)👀 anyway I hope you enjoy it!😊

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,778

Disclaimers: Smut, Language, HELLA FLUFF, Bakugo being a fucking shit but what else is new, this was a request, @im-blossoming I hope you like it! Sorry it took so long!

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

“Y/n-chan! Help me study please?” Kaminari pleaded, immediately breaking out the puppy dog eyes. His hands clasped together as he peered down at you.

You cocked your head to the side, “I thought Kacchan was going to help you and Eiji?” You pondered aloud.

Too loud maybe, because you gained the attention of some of your classmates.

“Dumbass! I told you to stop calling me that!” Bakugo screamed, fixing his eyes on you with an annoyed glare.

“Bakugo man, stop screaming at a girl. That’s not manly at all.” Kirishima piped in.

“Shut up shitty hair! It’s not manly for you to get shit grades either!” He growled back, the palm of his hands crackling with explosions.

“You see Y/n-chan! I don’t want that guy teaching me! Please;” Kaminari all but cried to you.

You were smiling in amusement during the entire exchange. Your friendship with these three was strange to say the least. You were a sweet girl, an all around genuine person, and let’s not forget smart, incredibly smart.

It’s unclear how the boys had gravitated towards you at the beginning of school, but you didn’t care. If anything, being around them was always fun, for you at least.

“Why don’t we all study together?” you suggested thoughtfully, “we can meet up in the dining room after dinner?”

“I don’t want to study with you dumbass.” Bakugo grumbled.

“Do you not like me Suki?” You pouted playfully.

Bakugo growled, his red eyes turning into slits. “Don’t call me that either!”

“What do you want me to call you then?” you frowned. Midoriya got to call him Kacchan, you didn’t see why you couldn’t either.

“If you’re going to call me by my first name than say it properly you fucking idiot!” He snapped.

“Fine Katsuki.” You rolled your eyes playfully at him. “Is that better?”

He grumbled under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away from you.

It was now time for lunch, all four of you walking out of the classroom, still discussing the plan for later tonight.

Unbeknownst to you, a certain pair of heterochromia eyes had been watching your every movement.

Todoroki hadn’t realized that he had been frowning the entire time he was watching you interact with your guys’ classmates.

“You okay Todoroki-kun?” Midoriya asked, seeing the troubled expression on his friend’s face.

“Yeah.” he said simply as he followed him out of the classroom and into the cafeteria.

The entire lunch he was silent, his mind wandering, but always coming back to what perplexed him the most: you.

It wasn’t like you guys were together, he wasn’t your keeper and you weren’t his either. He liked to think that you guys were closer than the three morons that you hung out with.

But then why have you never asked him to study together? Why do you call those guys by their first names but still refer to him by his surname?

His frown deepened.

Before he even realized it, it was already past dinner time, and right now he was watching you and Kaminari work on English together. Bakugo and Kirishima had their own topic of studying to cover, but you all sat at one of the tables, books and papers scattered around you.

You were too engrossed in the lesson plan to even notice the intensity of Todoroki’s stare, but Bakugo felt it immediately, his eyes snapping up with a glare.

“Why do you keep looking at us icy hot!?” He screamed, catching your attention. You looked up from the sentence you were helping Kaminari with, and made eye contact with blue and grey eyes.

You tilted your head to the side in curiosity, lips parting slightly as you stared at the beautiful man staring right back at you.

“I’m sorry Todoroki, are we being too loud? Do you want us to move to another room?” You asked softly; ignoring the loud protest of Bakugo not wanting to “move from his fucking spot.”

You watched as his lips pursed, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

Cute, you thought, vaguely aware of the blush that was creeping up on your face.

You had hoped that your crush on Todoroki wasn’t obvious. You had seen him at the entrance of U.A. on your first day of classes. You had thought he was incredibly good-looking. You had already formed a physical attraction to him, but it wasn’t until you had partnered up with him for a school project, and then as partners for most of your hero training courses, that you began to actually develop feelings for him.

You had a large amount of respect for Todoroki. You admired his quick wit, his strength, his always quiet and calculating demeanor, and most importantly, his strive to become the best hero.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to become the best hero either, you had worked hard to get to where you were now, and you still had a long way to go. It was just that you admired the fact that he wanted to be better. You thought that he was already perfect, but his goals, and his determination to be better than his father, to be better than All Might himself, well, that motivated you too.

“You’re fine.” was his short response, his eyes flickering back to his book.

You sighed softly to yourself, you had always thought that you two were close, at least closer than how he was with most people. But, he was just so cold towards you sometimes. You couldn’t help but wonder if you actually annoyed him and he was just being nice by letting you think you guys were actually friends.

“I’m going to go make some tea, do you guys want any?” you asked quietly, standing up. You tried not letting your deflated feelings show.

The three boys at your table chimed in with requests from what they wanted from the kitchen, none of which involved tea. But you didn’t say anything else and quietly left the room.

Bakugo’s eyes shifted over to Todoroki; another scowl deepening into his face. “Oi, half and half bastard, do you like Y/n?”

This caught Kaminari and Kirishima’s attention, immediately turning their attention to Todoroki.

Todoroki frowned, staring back at Bakugo. “Yeah. Y/n is a nice person. She’s strong too. And smart.”

“That’s not what I meant icy hot!” Bakugo growled, growing further annoyed with his daft classmate.

“What did you mean then?” Todoroki asked.

“Yeah Bakugo what did you mean?” Kirishima asked curiously. “Of course everyone likes Y/n-chan, she’s sweet and cute!”

Todoroki’s eyes hardened at Kirishima’s statement. Something deep in his chest bubbling up; he didn’t like what Kirishima had said, while it was the truth, hearing someone else say those words aloud didn’t sit right with him.

“I think what Bakugo is trying to ask: is if Todoroki wants to be more than friends with Y/n-chan.” Kaminari grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. “Well what do you think, Todoroki? Are you attracted to Y/n-chan?”

Todoroki shifted in his seat uncomfortably; what did he think? The feelings you made him feel were too confusing. He wanted to be around you all the time, he didn’t like that you were always hanging out with those three, and he definitely didn’t like the fact that you never called him by his first name.

“I don’t know. She’s weird.” he said bluntly, but before he could finish you came by and slammed the tray of goodies down on the table, startling everyone.

You had heard the last two exchanges; getting your hopes thinking that he would say that he did like you, just like you liked him.

His response that he said definitely wasn’t the one you were hoping for. You could feel tears of hurt and frustration gathering at the corner of your eyes as you glared at Todoroki, startling him completely.

You had never looked at him like that before.

“If you think I’m so weird then you can find another sparring partner, stupid Todoroki;” you snapped angrily and stormed off to your dorm room, sniffling as you went.

Everyone was still for a moment, not fully registering what happened until Kirishima finally spoke.

“Don’t just sit there Todoroki! Go be a man and comfort her!”

And he did.

He raced towards your room, he wasn’t exactly sure what happened, but he didn’t like the way you looked at him, it made his stomach twist uneasily.

He didn’t bother knocking, he opened your door abruptly. His stomach dropped as he saw your teary gaze found his eyes.

His stomach twisted in guilt.

Did his comment really make you fucking cry?

“Go away Todoroki, I don’t want to see you right now.” you snapped, looking away as you rubbed the tears out of your eyes.

“You’re crying.” he stated, the door closing behind him as he stepped closer to you.

“No thanks to you.” you fired back. “Just go away.”

“No.”

“Go. If you didn’t want to be friends with me Todoroki you just had to say so.” You cried out angrily at him. “If you think I’m so weird, then why do you keep trying to talk to me?”

Something inside of him snapped at the mention of his surname; the feelings he had been suppressing, the feelings he had no idea how to identify came flooding out.

“Why do you call me that?” he asked abruptly.

You raised your eyebrows incredulously. “It’s your name?”

He frowned, stepping closer to you. You were now only an arms length away from each other, and he looked furious.

“Why do you never call me by my first name? You call everyone else by their first name except for me? Why? Is it because you don’t think of me as your friend?” His voice was deep and husky.

It felt like your heart was about to burst out of your chest, your tears were long forgotten about.

But the adrenaline was still pumping, blood ringing in your ears and all those feelings you had suppressed about him began to bubble up; spilling from your lips. “Don’t think of you as a friend!? I don’t call you by your first name because I have so much respect for you Todoroki! You inspire me to be a better hero! I-I-I like you Todoroki! Since the day I met you I’ve liked you!”

Fuck.

You didn’t mean to confess, your hand was clutching your shirt above your heart, your eyes screwed tightly shut.

It was quiet.

Fuck, I messed up, you thought.

“Todor-” something cold and soft slammed against your mouth.

Your eyes flashed open as you had lost your balance from whatever force had come at you. But you didn’t fall.

Instead, you felt strong arms wrap tight around your body. Cold fingers pressed into your jaw, and you felt something cold and wet wiggle its way into your mouth.

Your eyes all but bulged out of your head.

He was kissing you.

Todoroki was fucking kissing you. And it felt good. You moaned into his mouth, melting against his strong body as you began to kiss him back. Your fingers tangling themselves into his hair, something that you had always dreamed about. You tugged gently at the locks near the nape of his neck.

Todoroki groaned deep and low in his throat, his grip tightening on you. His lips moving urgently against yours. He moved until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed, both of you folding down on top of it.

He grabbed your left leg, having it wrap around his waist as he began exploring your body with greedy fingers.

His left hand sliding up your shirt; warm, rough fingers moving against the soft skin of your ribs. Just stopping below the edge of your bra.

“T-To-Todoroki, please,” you whimpered against his lips, moving away as you panted for air. His lips pressing hot open mouth kisses along your delicate jaw.

You could feel his member growing harder against your leg.

“Say my name.” he murmured softly against your skin, sliding his mouth to where it was on the outer shell of your ear. “I want to hear you say it.” he whispered, his tongue flicking out against the lobe of your ear.

Your eyes all but rolled into the back of your head, your hips jutting out against his, causing a deep moan to escape his lips.

“Sh-Sho-Shoto,” you moaned out as his hips pressed down into yours. “Please, touch me.”

That was all he had to hear. His fingers tugged to remove your shirt and then your pants until you were left in nothing but your bra and panties.

He paused as he gazed down at you. Lips parting in awe and want.

You were fucking beautiful. Spread out beneath him like this, your lips wet and swollen, your perfect tits heaving up and down as you struggled to catch your breath.

His hands slid underneath your back, carefully pulling you forward into a sitting position as he moved to unhook your bra.

He sat back, watching intently as your breasts spilled from the cups. Todoroki moaned softly as he moved forward and captured a taut nipple between his lips, carefully tugging and pulling at the sensitive bud, before switching to the other one.

You moaned loudly, hips bucking up, looking for some kind of friction as he assaulted your breasts, leaving behind already forming bruises.

He pulled away, moving to pull down your panties. Watching you carefully to make sure that it was okay, but when he heard no protests from you his eyes flickered down. He groaned at the site before him. Your pussy lips were dripping in arousal for him.Todoroki couldn’t help but lean in, swiping his tongue along your slit, collecting your wetness on the tip of his tongue.

You sobbed out in pleasure as he began his new assault on your cunt. How was he so good at this? He had you writhing in pleasure as your climax approached, crying out his name loudly as you came.

You didn’t notice the way he had stripped down until he softly touched your leg, causing your eyes to flutter open.

And - oh fuck. He was beautiful. His muscle rippling as he settled down onto the bed, his skin glistening with sweat and his eyes held nothing but want and need.

Your eyes moved lower, trembling at the gorgeous sight before you.

His cock stood up painfully hard, his head already weeping with neglect.

“Y/n,” he uttered your name softly, catching your attention as you met his gaze once again. This time though his expression was soft and gentle. “Can I have you?”

Your heart squeezed in your chest. “Yes. Yes, you can take me Shoto.”

Carefully he rubbed the head of his cock against your folds, before pushing in. You gasped loudly, your head thrown back as he entered you slowly before he bottomed out.

Todoroki leaned down, supporting his weight with his forearms as he got comfortable on top of you before leaning down to kiss you again.

This time it was sweet, soft and passionate as his mouth fitted perfectly against yours. And then he began to move his hips.

Sliding perfectly and easily in and out of you, your walls velvet soft and hugging every ridge, every vein of his cock.

The moans you both shared being swallowed down by your mouths still working together.

“You’re perfect.” Todoroki breathed, moving to stare at your face twisting in pleasure. “Are you close?”

You nodded urgently, you could feel your orgasm bubbling up once again. The pleasure rippling through your body, getting ready to snap open any second.

His cold fingers reached down and began carefully rubbing your clit, his movements soft but firm.

But that was all it took for you to come undone, unraveling beneath him hard and fast; crying out his name you felt him slide out of you, you watched as he gripped his member and pumped three times before spilling himself all over your stomach. His face twisted in pleasure, eyes screwed tightly shut as soft moans escaped his lips.

His release was hot and sticky against your skin but neither of you cared as he leaned down and pressed another kiss to your lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, drinking in the sight of you. “I like you too. Have since the moment I saw you too.”

You laughed softly, looking at him with the sweetest expression. “I hope you like me back Shoto, it would be a bit weird if you didn’t after all of this no?”

He smiled slightly; “Yeah.”

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2K notes · View notes

wooyunhwa · 4 years

Text

kingdom of welcome addiction | C.S.

view pinned post for masterlist!

Genre: smut (mostly suggestive in this part though)

Pairing: demon!san x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: blood drinking, virgin mc

Synopsis: When you accidentally summon a bloodthirsty demon boy to your bedroom, you form an unexpected contract with him.

A/N: Thank you for reading and comments are super appreciated as always!

If you had to read the words pythagorean theorem one more time, you were gonna smash your brains in.

You reached over to your phone, unlocking your screen to the group chat.

y/n: anyone wanna come over and help me with this dumb problem? my heads gonna implode.

chaeyeon: busy tonight, Y/N. lol, just summon a demon or smth.

yuri: lmao that ouija board is still there right? I think we left it under your bed

chaeyeon: I don’t think you summon demons with a ouija board, yuri

y/n: ugh you guys are no help. brb, summoning demon...

You realized how weird this conversation would sound from an outside perspective, but it was a sort of inside joke you had within your friend group. You and your friends had joked about ‘summoning a demon’ before, and you’d even used a Oujia board a few times and done fake seances to freak each other out. The results were always disappointing—not that you ever actually wanted to contact the dead or anything, but you were at least hoping for a spooky story or something you could tell.

You knew they were joking around, but your brain felt a little delirious from all the math churning it into mush.

You switched tabs from your test, typing in the search bar “how to summon a demon”. You chuckled a little under your breath at the ridiculousness. But at least then you could tell your friends you actually tried. They’d get a kick out of that.

You followed a few rabbit holes down some forums, mockingly reciting strings of incomprehensible Latin. If you were gonna do this, you were gonna commit fully.

“You called?”

You scrambled backwards, nearly jumping a foot off the bed at the sudden unfamiliar voice echoing in the room.

Then you saw him.

He was perched on your bookshelf, one leg dangling lackadaisically over the edge, the other folded up at his side. You caught a glimpse of his piercing crimson-red eyes illuminated in the dim candle-lit room. He looked particularly cat-like in his position, a devilish grin painted on his face, what looked like fangs coming to two sharp points in his mouth.

The man picked up a pen from your bookshelf, twirling it in his hand casually with playful twists of his fingers. “You’re new…” he mused, glancing at you up and down. “And... cute. Fresh blood. How'd you get my number, hmm?”

You sat stunned, dizzy from confusion. Your words were lodged in your throat, unable to utter a single sound. This had to be a dream, right? Had you fallen asleep while working on your homework? It wouldn't be the first time.

He tapped his fingers impatiently against the oak of the bookcase, waiting for your next move. The only words you could manage came out in a hoarse croak, shaky and uncertain. "This—I'm dreaming…"

He shook his head, clicking his tongue tauntingly against his teeth. "Oh, there's a lot of things I could do right now to assure you you aren't," he started, the gleam in his eye particularly sinister as he drew his gaze up and down. "But trust me. You wouldn't want that."

“Who—”

“I have a lot of names, but you can just call me San. Your friendly neighborhood demon.” He flashed a fiendish smirk. “Well, maybe don’t linger too much on the ‘friendly’ part.”

“D—demon?”

“What, you didn’t know? You’re the one who summoned me, darling.” He drew out his words, slowly, carefully, continuing to play with the pen in his fingers. The way he spoke sent shivers down your spine, as if he had the power to kill you at any moment. He probably did.

He pressed his palms against the top of the shelf to hoist himself off, the books on it threatening to topple with the sudden movement. The minute he vaulted down from the shelf, you were able to get a better look at him.

The first thing that drew your eye was his impossibly broad shoulders, accentuated by the tight cut of his shirt. It contrasted against his tiny waist, cinched in neatly with a belt. His proportions were unreal, and so very fittingly non-human. He was undoubtedly the most incredible sight you'd ever seen in your life, human or otherwise. He made his way over to the bed where you sat. You snapped your laptop closed, pushing it to the side, your blood turning to ice as he inched closer to you. The way he sauntered across the floor almost seemed like he was floating, like gravity was merely a fun game to him.

He poised himself over you, his powerful stance alone commanding you to look at him. His fingernail dragged under your chin with a distinct sting, pulling your gaze up to his intense eyes. It was cold, like a dull knife, causing your body to tremble slightly. His piercing eye-contact was entrancing, even spell-binding—you couldn't tear your eyes away. "How cute," he teased sing-songily, “you’re a virgin.”

Your eyes widened, still pulled in by his magnetic gaze. “How did you—”

"I can smell one from a mile away. The scent… it's just so…" he paused to lick his lips, drawing his tongue slowly over his black metal lip ring. "delicious."

“Anyway, you must have had a reason to summon me, no? A soul to harvest? A sacrifice maybe?” Something about his tone was giddy at the idea. “At your service, darling.” He drew down in a playful bow, his mouth twitching into a smirk.

You hated to say it, but he was entirely your type. From up close, you could see his other piercings more clearly, several earrings lining both ears, glimmering against the cartilage. His right eyebrow donned a shaved slit, decorated with another piercing. Of course the demon you summoned in your dream would be your ideal man. Well, he kind of looked like the edgy Hot-topic boy of your 7th grade self’s dreams, but you couldn’t deny that was still kind of your type still. His jet-black hair framed the sharp cut of his jaw perfectly—you were sure he could see you practically drooling over him at this point. He looked crafted by heaven—hell?—itself.

Even so, no single part of you desired for him to take your virginity right this second. Maybe under different circumstances, but not with the time ticking down on your math assignment and the fact that he was a fucking demon you just conjured into your room.

You shook your lewd thoughts out of your head, worried for a moment that demons might have some sort of mind-reading powers you weren’t aware of. “Well, uh, actually… I need help with my math homework.”

He snickered, his eyes trained on you like prey. “You can’t be serious. Tell me you’re not serious.”

“I’m kind of serious. It’s like 10% of my grade.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth again, breaking eye contact finally, and you felt a sense of relief as you finally had a moment to breathe away from his suffocating glare.“For someone who just summoned a demon you’re a real buzzkill.” He perched himself on the edge of the bed, resting his butt lightly against the edge of the frame. “Fine,” he groaned. “Let’s say I actually helped you. You know how this works, right? If I do something for you, you have to give me something in return.”

You gulped. This was a dream, it had to be, and the best you could do was go along for the ride. Even so, you couldn’t help but feel shaken, despite doing your best to convince yourself it wasn’t real—like some sort of subconscious defense mechanism your body employed in danger. And, well, he kind of seemed like danger. “Like what?”

“Well, normally...” He glanced back over, pinning you down with his gaze once again. “It’d be your soul.”

Your breath stopped in your throat. You weren’t quite sure if you were ready to give up your entire soul for 10% of your math grade, although that was a pretty accurate metaphor for your college experience.

“Your virginity maybe?” he hummed, drawing his tongue back over his lips, then, seeing your expression, shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “No? Damn. It doesn’t hurt to ask.”

“Um… I can offer to make you dinner?”

He paused, his eyes widening for a second, then burst into a cacophony of laughter. It was the first time he broke his exterior, and for a moment, he looked a bit more human. “I’ll take it.” Then, more “but you realize a contract with a demon is binding, right?”

“So, I’m contractually obligated to make you dinner, that’s what you’re saying?”

He paused, his smile turning amused once more. “Feisty. I like you,” he winked flirtatiously, sending heat rising in your cheeks. You hated to say it, but he was devilishly charming, on top of being probably the hottest being, human or not, you’d ever seen.

You glanced at your phone, noting the time ticking down slowly but surely. “Okay, I’m not joking. The math. My assignment is due in 45 minutes.”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

He sat next to your side on the bed for a while, guiding you through the problems like some sort of hot e-boy math tutor. Not that you were complaining about that. The way he sat was surprisingly cute, one leg tucked up at his side, the other folded underneath him.

“Where’d you learn math, anyway?” you asked, admiring his immaculate side profile as his eyes trained on the laptop screen, typing the answers in. “They have like, demon school or something?”

He gave you a side glance, and you once again felt uneasy under the heat of his gaze. “A demon never reveals his secrets.”

“I thought that was a magician.”

He visibly stifled a laugh, pressing his lips tightly to avoid giving you the satisfaction of breaking his serious exterior. “Can you be quiet? I’m focusing. I’m a demon, not a mathematician. This is way out of my scope of work,” he grumbled through his teeth.

You watched him silently as he worked. As he typed, his tongue lingered just outside his parted lips in concentration. “Even you sitting next to me is distracting,” he hissed quietly. “You don’t realize what your scent is doing to me right now.”

Right. Your virgin scent. Was that really so appealing to him?

“Fine. I guess I’ll go make dinner. You promise you’re gonna turn this in in time?”

“I’m contractually obligated,” he responded dryly.

You hoisted yourself off the bed and headed to the kitchen to make dinner, but something about leaving a stranger in your room felt strange. No stranger than accepting he was a demon, though, you supposed.

You returned with a large plate of pasta, pretty much the only thing you had on hand. He received it apprehensively from you.

“What?” you asked, offended at his look of disgust. “Sorry, I didn’t have any fresh human souls on hand. My bad.”

You sat across from him on the bed, watching in fascination as he nibbled slowly at the thin spaghetti noodles. “You have any hot sauce or anything?” he asked, wincing as he took a few more bites.

“I barely had enough pasta to feed two people. I’m a broke college student. Anyway, I never forced you to accept the dinner offer.”

“I didn’t think it’d be so bland. What, you didn’t know demons prefer spicy food?”

“I didn’t know demons existed until today. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. This is all a dream I’m going to wake up from in a bit anyway.”

A wicked smirk danced up on his lips again. “Oh, you still think it’s a dream? Cute,” he sang condescendingly. “Well, then I guess it wouldn’t matter if I did this...”

Your heart seemed to stop in your chest as he crawled forward on his palms. You felt his breath linger on your neck first, then the gentle scrape of his pointed canines against your sensitive skin. Every hair on your body stood up. He pressed them down slightly, just enough to feel the tension on your flesh. Then he bit harder, nearly piercing as he sunk them in.

You reeled back, shoving him off you breathlessly. “What the fuck-”

“You still think it’s a dream? Then it wouldn’t matter if it sunk my teeth in. You’d just wake up, right? Isn’t that how dreams are supposed to work?” he taunted, a smile curled up on his lip. His fangs gleamed under the still-dim light of your bedroom. “Humans are so amusing,”

You wiped at your neck, rubbing circles where his teeth pinched your skin. He sat himself upright again and stood up from the bed. “Well, my end of the deal is over. Consider you released from your contract.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Well I’m not gonna stay here.” His hand came up to his ear like a phone. “Call me if you have a soul to harvest. You know my number.”

He was gone before you could blink, like an apparition, disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared. Your eyelids grew heavier as you reflected what had just happened, and you wondered what would happen if you fell asleep in a dream. Would you just wake up?

You collapsed into bed, still unsure whether or not the past few hours had actually happened or not. Part of you hoped they had—there was something about him that was so deeply captivating, you would do anything to see him again.

As he said, you did have his ‘number’.

You woke up dazed, still unsure if you had dreamt the events of the night before. The only sure way to know was to check your assignment—if you had really fallen asleep while doing your homework, you wouldn’t have turned the assignment in, right?

You opened your online class page, scanning for the assignment, and there it was, in bold letters:

Submitted: 98%.

Your breath caught in your throat. You felt two distinct emotions: relief that you got the assignment turned in, and complete disbelief that your encounter last night was not part of your imagination.

You could summon him again.

He seemed about as harmless as a demon could seem. At first, he had been entirely intimating—his aura made it seem like he could have eaten your soul right there with no second thoughts. But watching that powerful being, capable of so much evil and chaos, do something as mundane as your math homework… that was the most entertaining, and almost adorable thing, you’d ever witnessed.

Besides, you had something he desired, something you could dangle in front of him to keep him coming back. You had your virginity, which seemed to be the ultimate prize for a demon like him. The way he had talked about it last night, it seemed you were irresistible for him. But he also accepted your rejection so easily.

As long as you kept drafting up meaningless contracts, he had to oblige, right? You weren’t sure exactly how it worked, but that’s how it seemed from your interactions last night. If it worked like you thought it did, his job as a demon was to make a contract with his summoner, no matter how insignificant, as long as he takes something in return.

That night, you read the same latin phrase you had before he’d appeared, this time off a sticky note push-pinned in your wall.

You heard him again before you saw him, and you whipped your head around to see where he was standing behind you.

He wore the same playful, devilish smirk, displaying his fangs. “Hmm, you decided to let me harvest your soul now, have you? That was quick.”

It had barely been 24 hours, and yet you’d already forgotten how incredibly hot he was, for lack of a better word. Your lips parted slightly in awe, forgetting for a second to formulate a response.

“I hope your silence is a yes,” he interrupted.

You shook your attraction to him out of your head for a moment, remembering what you brought him here for. “I want you to clean my bathroom.”

He laughed in disbelief, plopping himself down on the bed. “I’m sorry, you want me to what?”

“That’s how this works right? I summon you and do what I want. And I give you something in return.” You leaned against the desk behind you.

“What am I, your errand boy?”

“But that is how this works, right?”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth in annoyance. “Yes,” he grumbled reluctantly. “But what do I get this time?”

“I cook you dinner again.”

“I’m gonna need more than that.”

“I’ll let you bite my neck. Draw blood if you want.”

His eyes widened at your proposal. His reaction confirmed your suspicion—the blood of a virgin must be like crack to a demon like him. His face went flush. “Deal,” he confirmed eagerly.

You watched him as he cleaned, and there was something satisfying about watching this bloodthirsty demon scrubbing the bathtub on his hands and knees. He almost looked a bit pathetic. You stood in the door frame, unable to help from grinning at making him perform such menial tasks. A lot more was at stake now than just dinner, so you might as well have some fun with his end of the bargain. Even on his knees, you couldn’t help but watch him in awe. Every part of him was sculpted immaculately—his appearance was distinctly human, and yet he was in all other ways otherworldly.

“I can’t believe I’ve been reduced to some human’s lowly errand boy,” he hissed through his teeth.

“Less talking, more scrubbing,” you demanded with a smirk, and he shot you a deathly glare.

You followed through with your promise of dinner, and this time you came prepared with hot sauce. He devoured it eagerly, and you felt proud for making a dinner worthy of a demon’s praise.

But there was still one more promise you had to follow through on, and the thought made your head spin.

He sat across from you on the bed, eyes trained on your neck in a very un-subtle display of desire. You’d never felt so wanted, even if it was just the thought of your virgin blood that had him practically drooling.

“You sure about this?” he asked hesitantly. It was strange that he was even asking permission, as he seemed so eager the other night to just sink his teeth right into you.

“I’m contractually obligated,” you teased dryly. Then, more seriously, “But yes, I am.”

He placed his left hand on your neck, steadying it in place. His fierce, almost predatory gaze washed over you completely.

He leaned forward, parting his lips to drag his teeth gently along your neck. You tipped your head back, giving him a better angle. He teased there for a while, lingering his sharp canines on your skin. His breath was hot and heavy against your neck, the warmth of it sending chills rocketing down your spine. Your lips parted slightly, gentle moans escaping at the sensation. The situation was predatory, and yet it felt completely sensual in a way you couldn’t quite describe.

He paused for a moment, lips fluttering over your skin as he spoke. “You have no idea how hard it is not to completely drain you,” he whispered, voice dripping off his tongue with a sort of lustful hunger. “I promise I’ll only take a bit.”

He sunk down, and you heard it before you felt it—the distinct sound of teeth piercing flesh. You cried out a bit, bringing your own hand to your mouth to muffle your whines. It stung a bit, but in a twisted way, there was something about it you liked. You felt his tongue draw over your wound slowly, lapping deliberately at the fresh blood like a starved animal.

He moaned against you, and it echoed in your ear like the most divine sound you’ve ever heard. He may have been a demon, but his noises sounded like they came from heaven itself. He pulled your waist against his as he slowly bathed his tongue over the punctured flesh, his fingers squeezing as he grasped at your waist. He littered a few faint kisses across your blood-stained skin, moving slightly down towards your shoulder blades. The sudden sensation drew soft, pleasured moans from your lips.

As he finally pulled away, parting his lips tenderly away from your skin, you caught the faintest glimmer of his blacked-out eyes before they flickered back to normal. His deep red irises sparkled like rubies as he maintained eye contact. He brought one of his hands up from your waist, gently wiping at his blood-stained lips with the back of his palm. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself for a second. Your skin tastes so sweet, like candy,” he praised softly, voice deep and wanting. “And your blood, fuck—it’s like nothing I’ve ever tasted.”

The seductive gleam in his eye signaled that you had awoken something in him, something you hadn’t meant to. He was still holding you, probably without even noticing, but you didn't want to draw his attention to it quite yet. You wanted to experience it for just a bit longer if you could. Something about the way he held your waist against his made you crave more of him.

Almost as if a switch flipped, his expression went dark, his fingernails suddenly digging all the way into your waist. You yelped in pain as he nearly punctured the skin through your clothes. “I need you to walk away from me right now. Before I do something I’ll regret,” he growled. You watched as his eyes flashed to the same demonic black for a moment.

You gulped, slowly backing yourself away from him, scrambling off the bed. "Farther," he groaned painfully, his breathing becoming heavy and labored. His hands clenched at the blanket on the bed, balling into restrained fists. "Now."

You ran from the room, your feet moving before you even knew where they were taking you. You ran all the way down the hallway to the front door, sliding your back down against it as you collapsed to the floor. Your limbs shook weakly, trying to calm yourself down. You must have sat there for an hour or more, completely frozen, not quite aware of the passing of time. You wiped the blood of your neck, but it didn't do much, smearing it across.

When you managed to finally stand up again, you made your way hesitantly towards the door of the bedroom, swinging your head around the doorframe first.

"San…?" you called apprehensively.

But he was gone, leaving only a light imprint on the sheets of the blood-stained bed and two deep punctures in your neck to remind you he was ever there.

[to be continued]

#san smut #choi san smut #yunho smut #ateez smut #san fanfic #ateez fanfic #hongjoong smut #ateez fic #ateez fanfiction

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freddiekluger · 3 years

Note

I am all ears for your season 3 cap's big gay awakening ideas 👀👀

alright, you asked so sit down and strap in

before we get started- a few details are recycled/repurposed from earlier headcanons/ask answers (characterisation is like that), and i came up with all this a couple weeks back, so any overlap with other peoples suggestions is totally unintentional! i’ve just been finding the energy to properly write them up as originally i riffed them with a friend late at night lmao

the captain: homo evolution

introduction (scroll down if you’re not bothered for the hardcore analysis/logic)

this isn’t necessarily what i think WILL happen as much as how i would do it. over the past two seasons of Ghosts, we’ve seen the captain’s main character arc being centred around him loosening up, from learning to value mike, alison, and the other ghosts more as equals than soldiers/means to an end to the season 2 finale, where cap is not only expressing an interest in flowers and fashion (distinctly un-soldierly pursuits) but joining the party and other men (the direct opposite of About Last Night, in which cap bah humbugs partying/’gay abandon’ and is left speechless by the mere presence of a mostly naked man). that being said, the captain is still the captain: his character is still centred around this need for rules and structure and he still finds his identity in the archetypal WW2 military man- all of his incremental moves towards a more ‘modern’ perspective have ultimately been made possible because, like Ben said on twitter, the captain isn’t CONSCIOUSLY aware that he’s gay. he has the underlying feeling that he’s different, he knows of his tendency to attach himself to specific men and form incredibly close bonds (and, as demonstrated by his attempts to hide them, is at least somewhat aware that that’s not the norm), but in his mind he’s written that off as merely “not being a ladies man”.

the captain is from the 1940s- it’s one thing for him to see and be supportive of a same-gender wedding in present day England where gay=legal unions, marketed doritos, and homophobia being still present but generally frowned upon, and another thing entirely for him to have to apply it to himself. we’ve already seen that the captain appears to be stuck in the past more than any of the other ghosts (”the war is over!” “is it, alison? is it?”- he also references the past more frequently than most of the others), and in his past sodomite gay=punishable by imprisonment and chemical castration, back alley hookups, and the constant threat of blackmail and violence. obviously, despite all this, there was a vibrant underground queer history taking place in England during this time & not all of the above is accurate, but it’s what cap would have seen, and the England of the early 20th century is denoted as being a particularly brutal period for lgbtq+ folks (the destruction of the first world war exacerbated rage and frustration, and lgbtq+ people weren’t the only gorup to end up on the receiving end of that, but i digress). this is basiclly just a really long way of me saying that the captain compartmentalising to that degree was, and to some extent is, a survival mechanism. confronting his homoseuxality means confronting what it means for a 1940s man to be a dreaded homosexual, and all of that directly conflicts with the image of ‘the Captain’ he’s built in his mind.

we’ve seen this in Redding Weddy, where the captain is aware that Havers means/meant more to him than was normal for a captain/2ic relationship (he does attempts to hide his affection- “i shall miss you, Havers. by which of course i mean we shall miss you “he left me, i mean he left for the front”), but is never able to fully verbalise WHY, and it only takes a series of increasingly dramatic prompts before he will even mention the idea of Havers, let alone begin to articulate their relationship.

all this just goes to prove that for the captain to properly ‘come out’, there needs to be an external inciting incident- he could easily have gone on shadowing attractive men whenever they visit and avoiding interrogating those feelings for another seventy years if Button house remained without alison and mike.

while at least julian, pat, and robin have noticed that the cap is not the most heteroseual of men (they’re the only ghosts who have visibly reacted when cap says gay shit), they all appear to have decided to just not mention it, which makes alison and mike our wildcards. not only has alison’s ability to see and communicate with the ghosts already connected them more to the modern world than they ever have been, alison, and mike by extension, has a personal stake in the wellbeing/general growth of the ghosts. happy ghosts=happy house, and like it or not some of them are even beginning to become friends. [i probably didn’t need to write all this like explaining my decisions, but i think figuring out the motivations behind everyon just develops the flavour and lets us have a sexy and accurate headcanon]

so,

the episode

while the captain might not consciously know he’s a fruit (derogatory), he is well and truly terrible at concealing the thirst (it’s not his fault things just keep slipping out!)- i love the idea of just having a supercut near the beginning of the episode that just shows that the captain has gotten even GAYER since last season, with slip ups becoming almost a daily occurence, but it’s getting to the point where it’s actually becoming a serious hazard. last week, he was supposed to be looking out for alison while attempted to put up blinds, but one of mike’s friends (who was over ‘helping out’, which mostly meant eating chips and covering himself in paint) walked through the room with his shirt off and paint handprints on the seat of his shorts, distracting the captain from realising that alison’s stepladder was about to give way.

with the increased presence of non elderly men in the house (the previous owner wasn’t exactly the life of the party) the captain is getting gayer and gayer, but he’s also becoming more and more defensive, while his brisk demeanour and need for control regresses to much more of a season 1 state (a subconscious attempt to regain control as things get close to spilling over). it’s not the first time his repression has almost slipped, he spent much of his life surrounded by soldiers after all, but with no war and no corporeal body he’s got almost nothing to distract himself from it. needless to say, between the safety hazards and the almost agressive defensiveness which derails any interaction, something needs to be done about the captain.

throughout the week, alison tries to find the opportune time to talk to the captain about what’s going on with him for everyone’s sake, but cap keeps masterfully evading any ‘deep’ talk with willful misunderstanding or just straight up dismissal (which at times gets a bit rude), and alison really doesn’t have the time- her and mike are caught up with managing the first official room redecoration and butting heads with a passive agressive delivery driver. insert general shenangigans, but at some point the captain’s whole “accidentally sabotage something by being distracted and then attack anyone who dares even look at him the wrong way afterwards” act causes alison to exasperatedly blurt out “we all know you’re gay! we get it! you like men! you can drop the act!”. there’s no malice or anything but, as we know, when alison gets run ragged things don’t tend to come out quite right.

everything falls silent (and mike is vaguely confused), and the captain just looks like a deer in headlights. as alison catches her breath, pat pipes up with a “it’s alright, cap, we don’t mind- now we can focus on the task at hand”. the captain sort of regains his composure and once again attempts to brush them all off with a scoff and a “i haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. if any of us is distracted, i-it’s... kitty!” but it’s easy to tell he looks rattled. most of his words don’t come out right, and after trying to blame kitty for their failures (she just had the unfortunate luck of being in his line of sight), he ends up doing an awkward little walk away which quickly turns into a full on sprint. mike, having finished processing alison yelling about gay shit to the air and kind of pieced together what must have happened awkwardly chimes in with “it’s okay to be gay!”- alison just pats him on the back (”yeah no he’s gone, mike.” “gone?” “sprinted away.” “huh”)

the episode continues with the captain flat out avoiding alison and the other ghosts to an almost funny extent as the other plots continue. it takes a bit for alison to realise why the captain reacted so badly (in fact, it’s actually mike who remembers that he’s 1940s ghost- “he’s probably just scared and taking it out on everyone else”). while thomas and julian vote for leaving the captain be so they can have some peace and quiet, fanny/pat/alison/robin decide someone needs to talk to him (fanny surprised everyone but after all, she got murdered because her husband had to live in secrecy- if talking to the captain will avert any further crises, she’s happy to make sure someone else does it for her). kitty’s still upset about being singled out, but she knows better than anyone that sometimes all you need is a friend- cue realisation no. 2.

with the captain avoiding everyone, sending in a regular emissary isn’t going to work. they need to find the least threatening person possible, with no agenda or history other than being there to help (a friend, if you will)- cue everyone looking at mike.

a quick offscreen briefing later, we see mike wandering out to the field where the captain has exiled himself- remember that up until this point, the captain was still in conscious denial about his sexuality, so being forced to confront it head on (and finding out that apparently everyone ‘knew’, which for cap would feel like an intimate invasion of privacy/forced vulnerability) would rattle him to the point of self-exile- he might not be able to run from his sexuality, but he can run from people. the thing is, mike can’t see or hear the ghosts, which means the captain can’t be frightened off by any expectations (mike actually talks to/at cap while facing completely the wrong direction, but consdiering the above point, this works rather well).

the captain was alternating between pacing, fiddling with his swagger stick, and sitting, but he unconsciously stands to attention as mike wanders over. he’s used to mike not being able to see them, so mike asking to sit down takes him by surprise, disrupting his instinct to flee again.

mike begins a little awkwardly (”mind if i sit?” *silence* “...i’m just gonna assume that’s a no. or is it a yes? yeah anyways i’m just gonna sit. so... heard you’ve been going through a rough patch”), and the captain almost scoffs and wanders off, but something about the clumsy earnestness in mike’s voice, the captain’s vulnerable state, and the fact that it’s been so long since cap has had anyone actually check in on him, that he stays put. he keeps standing and staring away from button house, and mike keeps speaking to the empty air to his left, and alison and the ghosts stay hidden behind their bush a few metres away, but at least the captain is listening. for the first time in weeks, he’s not on the offensive.

“i can’t actually see or hear you, so i’m just gonna talk and assume you’re listening. alison mentioned you have a habit of running away but, um, maybe don’t do that please?”

“my mate daniel's gay. uh, homosexual, you’d probably say- did you have gay when you were alive? did it just mean happy? anyway, he didn’t come out- that means tell people- until he left high school. we all kind of guessed it, the other kids at school gave him a real tough time for it, but he just squashed it down. couldn’t imagine that all the things people were shouting at him were true, so he ignored it. he’s doing good now though. got married to his husband last year, currently runs a bookshop. so that’s nice.”

it goes quiet for a bit. the captain hasn’t moved, and we’re still only seeing shots of him from the back, but there’s a little less tension in his stance than there was before. mike clears his throat before continuing.

“i’m guessing you’re probably pretty scared right now. i would be- i mean not that you should be, you shouldn’t, but coming from your... situation, i’m guessing it’d be hard. no one’s saying you have to be anything you’re not ready to be, but lots of things that are scary are actually not bad. airplanes, skydiving, clowns- well, not the clown from that movie, but he gives clowns a bad rep- i’m sure there are plenty of lovely clowns out in the world. still give me the creeps though.” the captain makes a captain-y noise of assent about the clown comment- he never liked them either.

mike glances over to the bush where alison and the ghosts were attempting to listen in (they could only catch every few words- mary got particularly concerned about why mike had referenced clowns), and the captain still hasn’t run away, so alison motions for mike to keep going. he starts telling the captain a story from his uni days. it’s got nothing to do with the captain, or being gay, or self-acceptance, or anything like that- it’s just a standard tale of comedic but inventive problem solving. the captain sits himself down next to mike (to his right, avoiding mike’s gaze, and still staring away from button house), muttering that his legs are getting a bit tired. he sits there for a while, and mike just talks. sometimes he circles back to the gay thing, sometimes he just asks the captain questions, before remembering that he can’t actually hear any answer, but then he keeps asking anyway, thinking that cap might need to talk. he doesn’t at first, but slowly he offers up a word or two. and then a sentence, and then maybe more- mike will accidentally cut the captain off, or leave the silence to long, but the captain doesn’t mind (it’s a nice reminder that nothing he says will actually go on to have consequence). at one point, mike gets out his phone to show the captain photos of his mate daniel and daniel's husband, not just their wedding day but casual photos- couples drinks with him and alison, dinners at each other's places, the bookshop.

alison and the other ghosts have long gone, and the sun is just about to sink below the horizon by the time the captain stands himself back up with the traditional knee crack and grunt. he looks at mike and nods, giving him a simple thank you before turning to walk (not run) back to button house, head held slightly higher and looking more relaxed than he’s been all episode. the captain has still got a lot to figure out, but at least it’s a start.

[i love the dramatic ending but the implication is that alison has to go and fetch mike bc he has no ideas cap has left and is prepared to keep going lol- also by no means is cap suddenly going to ditch his characterisation and become a yas kween gay right away, i didn’t go into the aftermath bc this is alreayd fucking LONG but let me know if you want follow up????}

EDIT: i've rbed this with the follow up/part 2 attached!

EDIT 2, much later: switched out mike's reference to his 'younger brother' to a school friend, since the christmas special confirmed mike only has sisters and we're all about accuracy here

#bbc ghosts #ghosts bbc #the captain #ben willbond #bbc ghosts captain #bbc ghosts headcanon #ghosts headcanon #lgbt #lgbtq #gay #mlm

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kiwikyuu · 3 years

Text

━━━━━━━━ all the different shades of orange ; hinata shōyō

summary — whoever said that hinata shōyō is a ball of sunshine is a liar

word count — 3k

genre — imagine ; kinda enemies to lover, fluff

warning(s) — major spoilers about spring interhigh for those of you who haven't read the manga, insults thrown around, kinda out of character hinata, cursing, not edited

a/n — okay but have y'all seen e2l hinata shōyō besides kagehina lmao because i haven't and thought it'd be interesting to try out. also wow i have never put so much effort into a work like this one (hopefully it reaches a lot of people and you can all find some joy in reading!)

❝ WATCH WHERE YOU'RE FUCKING GOING NEXT TIME, YOU ROTTEN BELL PEPPER. ❞

Hate was a strong word but the flaring anger in your heart and overwhelming urge to run into a wall whenever your eyes landed on that tangerine said otherwise. It wasn't that you went out of your way to dislike someone that has everyone wrapped around their finger. It just so happened that you had no tolerance for bullshit, and Hinata Shōyō pissed you off in every way possible.

It started on the first day of high school.

Walking beside Minari, a friend from middle school, the two of you were eager to leave the building. The idea of grabbing steamed buns had unraveled itself in your mind, and what better way to enjoy food than by sharing?

"Are you going to try out for any clubs?" Your elbow bumped against hers as you two walked the slowly emptying hallway. "I think I saw the girls soccer team holding tryouts soon."

Minari shrugged, but you could already see the thoughts pinging in her mind. "I might if I can."

See, the two of you had almost reached the staircase when it happened. Minari's long hair covered her view from time to time, so you were used to looking out for her while chastising the girl about the usefulness of a hairband. But what you didn't expect as you pulled the girl aside just as a gaggle of guys rushed by was the full strength of a short orange-haired boy catching you off guard and nearly sending you tumbling down the flight of stairs.

"I'm sorry! I - I didn't see you there!" He shouted, his hand coming out to latch instinctively onto your school uniform before you could be thrown back far. "And on the first day too... I'm so sorry! Please accept my apology."

You stared at the short boy standing before you looking positively green with anxiety and guilt. Minari was already calming him down with mentions of accepting his apology, but all you could focus on was the pounding beat of your heart and the tingling feeling in your legs from your near-fatal experience.

"Watch where you're fucking going next time, you rotten bell pepper," you muttered before pushing his fingers off your now wrinkled white shirt.

You had walked away first, Minari in tow, but not before catching the shine of his name tag, 'Hinata Shōyō,' and the wide-eyed stare on his face that sent shivers down your back.

From that day forward, every flash of orange around the school seemed to be followed by a glare on your end and a roll of eyes on his.

"You're in the way, pumpkin head." Your words cut through the chattering hallway and sliced at Hinata who in turn threw you a pointed look, something that all the First Year students knew by now was reserved for only you. "I'm trying to get to the library, but somebody's walking too slow. Aren't you supposed to be on the volleyball team?"

Hinata scoffed, but stepped aside to let you through. Dirty looks were all he had in his armory apparently as time after time after sending an insult or two his way, he held his tongue. You liked to think it was because he didn't have the proper brain cells to form a response, but sometimes you wondered if you were being too much.

Up ahead, Minari waved at you to hurry before all the seats at the library were taken. Shaking yourself of your thoughts, you walked over to her. Unbeknownst to you, while you shouldered your bag, your wallet tipped over and fell out at a certain somebody's feet.

Hinata picked up your ratty wallet, noticing it on the floor, and went to call out to you before catching himself. What did he care? Still, unable to ignore it, he pocketed your belonging making note to give it back to you later. Right now, he had a game to worry about.

Somehow you had ended up at the Karasuno vs. Aoba Johsai game during the Interhigh Preliminaries. Minari had dragged you up to the stands as discreetly as possible after convincing you that she wasn't feeling up to study. Considering she had her eyes set on a certain 5'10 blueberry, you were foolish enough to think that she'd wanted to take you some place fun.

Now as the two of you stared down at the game happening eagerly, you let out a sigh upon noticing Hinata. As if your day couldn't have gotten worse after misplacing your wallet, you were displeased to find that he was looking right back up at you with the same wide-eyed stare he had when you two had first met.

Shivers ran down your back almost as if on cue, and you tore your gaze away from him fully ready to leave the gymnasium and trudge back home. But had you turned away, you would have missed the freakish oddball combination execute their quick attack.

"Holy shit," you breathed. "What the fuck was that?"

Minari smirked. "Tobio-kun is a great setter, isn't he? Or were you too focused on Mr. Bell Pepper to notice."

You shot her a frosty look, pushing down the stuttering emotion starting to rise in your chest that most definitely did not feel like anger. "As if."

The game continued for what seemed like days but turned out to be hours at most ending at a score of 1:2 in Aoba Johsai's favor.

Deafening silence overtook your ears. Minari was quick to leave the stands, mumbling something about consoling the fallen setter while your eyes searched for some semblance of sunshine in Hinata's sullen ones.

Spotting his sunken expression, you felt yourself regret the hatred that had sparked for him for just a moment. A fleeting moment that buried itself in your heart, planting a seedling of growing doubt.

"Minari, we have to catch the bus back!" You called out to your friend as you joined her on the gymnasium floor.

She glanced your way, halting the conversation she had began with her Tobio-kun. "Two minutes, and then we can go. Please?"

You nodded despite feeling discomfort crawling up your spine at being surrounded now by those you didn't know. You settled by the door, checking your phone mindlessly to pass the short time only looking up when an outstretched hand came into view.

"You dropped this earlier." Hinata's words were short, sharp, and you were suddenly glad you had never been on the end of his scathing remarks. "On your way to the library," he continued.

"Oh," was all your malfunctioning mind could come up with as he took your open hand in his, placing your wallet gently in your palm. The warmth of his skin seemed pressed into your own even after he had started to stalk away.

Clearing your throat, you spoke before you could stop yourself. "You did well today. I - uh," you paused. What were you even saying? "I watched from the stands."

He offered you a soft smile, one that you realized could light the world aflame, before walking back to his awaiting team.

You placed your hand over your drumming heart, sedating the flustered feeling he had left behind with you, chanting in your mind over and over again that Hinata Shōyō was a menace and you had no plan to ever like him let alone fall for him.

But no one ever plans to fall in love.

The Karasuno Boys Volleyball Club seemed to practice non-stop funnily enough, rather motivated by their loss from months ago instead of despaired. Minari had become a regular face during practice as she cheered the boys on in an attempt to woo Kageyama still, and by fault, so had you.

"Y/N, Tangerine's on his way over here." Minari nudged you, stealing your attention from the workbook open in your lap.

You shrugged, trying to focus on anything other than your slowly rising heartbeat. "Why? Did the coach bench him for his subpar plays?"

"No, actually Tangerine wanted to give you something but he's currently reconsidering."

You looked up immediately, eyes narrowing upon noticing Hinata standing in front of you with a small smirk. "You're looking really fucking smug for a guy who still needs to work on his skills. Kageyama says you lack basic technique."

Hinata rolled his eyes at you. "You're being rude."

"It's because I don't like you," you answered smoothly. "So get back to practice before you lose any more volleyball brain cells."

He let out a small laugh. Turning away, for a moment you thought he'd actually leave as simple as that, but just before he took another step, he tossed something your way. It fell on top of your workbook, smacking against the thin pages, causing a couple of the boys to look your way while Hinata jogged back to the net.

Minari leaned in closer to you. "He got you—" She cocked her head in confusion. "A wallet?"

It was a deep shade of orange that almost made you laugh out in irony. Detailed with card slots and a latch with snapping buttons, the wallet was definitely an improvement from the one you had right now.

"That's sweet... right?" Minari questioned, watching your expression as you opened the wallet to reveal a note — scratchy handwriting on a scrap of notebook paper.

'thought your wallet looked ratty old. not in a mean way of course!!!!

— your favorite, Pumpkin Head Shōyō

ps. my sister picked out the color :p'

"Stupid fucking carrot," you whispered under your breath, feeling your cheeks grow warm at his message. "I don't need a new wallet."

Minari scoffed at your words, turning to face you completely and taking your hands in hers with seriousness. "Be honest with me." You stared at her blankly. "Be honest, and tell me if you actually hate Hinata as much as you say you do. Why don't you just drop the act? You two obviously like each other enough to be friends, so why keep this all up? Isn't it tiring?"

Her words echoed through the hallways of your mind minutes, hours, and days after. Sitting at your desk in school, on your walk home, lying in bed staring up at the ceiling, they were as loud as life itself.

You thumbed the straps of your bag while waiting for the bus. The sun was slowly dropping from the sky, setting on the horizon leaving you in a thoughtful orange haze.

You two obviously like each other enough to be friends, so why keep this all up? Isn't it tiring?

The weeks following were conflicting and chaotic. Exam season settled on Karasuno High School jolting the students and staff into a cloud of stress.

You spent your spare time at the library, eyes boring into material that just wouldn't stick while a certain rotten bell pepper took his seat next to you.

"I have to pass my finals or Sugawara senpai is going to nail me to a wall," Hinata explained, spreading his notebooks out on the desk and bumping his elbow against yours in the process. "You do well in your classes, right? Do you — " He looked abash. "D - Do you mind helping me?"

Against your better judgement, you nodded. Looking back now, you suppose that's where your odd friendship began.

Days on end, the two of you would stay behind to cycle through the material slowly building a tolerance of each other much to everyone's surprise.

"Do you still hate me?" The question came one night, the weekend before his exams.

Hinata looked at you from where he sat on the swings, kicking his feet at the sandy grounds. The two of you were at the park, cooling off after a long study session.

Your eyes fell to the can of convenience store coffee in your hands. The slight of the passing breeze drilled his question further in your mind.

"No, I don't think so," came your answer, words wobbly and unsure despite the thrum of your heart beating loudly against your chest and the warmth in your cheeks.

Silence filled the space between you two before Hinata finally spoke up again.

"Then do you like me?"

Your body felt lit aflame, mind jumping immediately to the way he made you feel things you hadn't much before. "As a friend," you decided after a moment of flustered emotions. "We're friends, I guess."

Hinata nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I like you." He took a deep breath. "As more than a friend, but if you feel that way then I'll wait for you. We have time."

His confession became lost among the flurry of thoughts and colliding emotions raging on inside you. Before you could say anything in response, Hinata got to his feet, shooting you that now familiar smile of his and offering you his hand.

The new year overwhelmed your senses like a storm of rain after a drought. Refreshed after the break, you returned to school with a new sense of purpose amplified by the motivation the new year always brings.

Hinata's confession had remained in your mind, pushed to the back by celebration but still bugging you every so often. The apricot haired boy had showed up, throwing ping pong balls (of all things) at your window to catch your attention over the break asking if you wanted to go grab something sweet with him. You promptly responded with a rejection, only to find yourself walking with him ten minutes later.

"How was your break?" Minari asked, bundled in a jacket, scarf, and hat. She joined you at your side, catching you on your walk from the bus stop to school.

You shrugged, pulling your puffy jacket closer to you. "It was okay. You?"

She smiled. "Hung out with Tobio-kun. We went for hot chocolate, and he taught me how to set." Her eyes seemed almost dazzling at the memory, and you laughed, pushing her lightly away.

"You and your Tobio-kun are positively gross," you said. "Absolutely—"

Your words were halted at the feeling of warm fabric settling around your neck and a known face popping up beside you with a proud smile.

"Stay warm. You can give it back to me later," Hinata said before jogging away to catch up with a pair of Second Year boys ahead.

Your hand came up to the green scarf around your neck, failing to form comprehensive sentences. Heart thundering, you ignored the funny looks others sent your way. Glancing at Minari, you caught her slipping giggles.

"What happened to Hinata Shōyō being a rotten bell pepper?"

"Shut up."

Lending you his scarf when days seemed too cold was just the beginning of it all. Days turned into weeks turned into months of Hinata pining after you and you—though obvious to everyone else—trying to decipher your feelings for him.

"Hey, I missed you," Hinata said to you lightly after you had agreed to drop something off for Kageyama on Minari's behalf. Quickly realizing the meaning of his words, however, Hinata corrected himself. "I mean—um, as in I m - missed you earlier. Like... like I didn't catch you today, you know?"

You tilted your head at him with endearment, a small smile playing across your lips at the sight of his blushing face. "Yeah, don't worry. I got it, sweet potato."

His flustered expression dropped. "You think I'm sweet?"

Your eyes widened, stuttering to form a response and correct yourself out of this situation you had suddenly been thrusted in. Luckily, Kageyama came to your rescue before you could embarrass yourself.

"Hinata, boke, stop flirting with Y/N!" The tall blueberry haired boy towered over Hinata with a menacing glare and a scoff. Kageyama turned to you with a blank look you took for an apologetic expression.

Shaking your head profusely, you put your hands up in surrender. "Ah, no worries, Kageyama. I—uh, I have something for you from Minari. She has classroom duties today, so she couldn't come herself."

Kageyama nodded, taking the wrapped bento box that Minari had prepared for him from your outstretched hands. He mumbled words of thanks before stalking off while muttering under his breath a colorful range of insults at Hinata who in turn sent him a funny face.

The Spring Interhigh was coming up, and you were sure the Karasuno Boys Volleyball Club was itching for redemption after what had happened last August. Deciding that you didn't want to interrupt their practice any further, you made move to leave only to stop at the feeling of a hand on your wrist.

Glancing back, you raised an eyebrow in surprise at Hinata's sudden action. "What are you—"

The tangerine boy had exchanged his lighthearted expression of just minutes ago with a look that you could only describe as properly motivated. "When we make it to Nationals, promise to give me a chance."

All around you, the gym seemed to fade until only Hinata was in your line of vision.

When we make it to Nationals, he had said, not if.

Unable to respond, you found yourself nodding because who were you to kid yourself at this point?

The Karasuno Boys Volleyball Club did, in fact, make it to Nationals, but unfortunately lost to Kamomedai High School in the quarter-final round while Hinata spent his time at the hospital.

Hooked up to an IV line and dressed in one of those flimsy hospital gowns, Hinata looked unusually weak laying down on the bed. The others had left not long after you had arrived though some took more convincing than others.

"Next time, you can keep your scarf to yourself," you said, cutting the silence short with a lighthearted remark.

Hinata smiled weakly at that, his hand coming to rest atop your folded ones on your lap. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

You shook your head. "Obviously, you can't take care of yourself." Slipping your hands from under his, you took the hand warmers out of your pockets and placed one in each of his hands. "Luckily, you got me."

His face lit up. "Oh, do I now?"

Warmth spread through your body as you looked away from his hopeful gaze. "Well, you did make it to Nationals."

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #hinata headcanons #hinata imagine #hinata shoyo x you #hinata shoyo x y/n #hinata x reader #hinata x you #hinata x y/n #hinata shoyo headcanons #hinata shoyo imagine #hinata shoyo x reader

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themilky-way · 4 years

Text

nightcrawler {t.holland}

gif credit: tommyhoelland2013

pairing: mafia!tom holland x fem!reader

summary: your original task was to satisfy your midnight cravings. what you find is something you don’t quite expect. based on this ask.

warnings: minor hints of violence, mentions of stalking, language, and SMALL nsfw bc its mafia!tom what do you want from mE

author’s note: haven’t written for tom in a while and this request spurred up some thoughts lmao. ALSO i tweaked this a lil bit hope u don’t mind :)

----------

everything residing inside the proportionally small bedroom was brought to life in almost an instant. with a single yank, the curtains covering the glass windows gave way to a clear view of the moon, allowing its illuminating rays to seep through. the outline of a messy, disheveled bed was puzzled together, with accompanying piles of clothes scattered across the room. a pair of slippers waited patiently next to the door for their owner to retrieve them, and with the sudden entry of glimmering light, it wouldn’t be long until someone did.

it had all started with a simple rumble of your stomach. there wasn’t much to it, nor would you have ever thought it would escalate this bad. you had been given quite a luscious meal, large enough to get you through the night without residual hunger. so, the idea of skipping dessert altogether seemed appropriately reasonable. however, as the night wore on, you began noticing a distinct noise deep in your belly. you ignored it at first, but as soon as you’d permit your eyes to close, the feeling returned more painful than before. now, here you were: on a mission to indulge in a much-needed snack.

you should at least have a bite, he had told you. you might regret it if you don’t. it had been silly of you to have denied his suggestion. he had meant well by it, too-always had, and most likely always will-but now the thought of possibly being caught by him doing exactly what you had refused to do was awkward. the spoon in your hand was already digging into a scoop of ice cream amidst this ludicrous internal conflict of yours, and as soon as the rich flavor of chocolate reached your senses, everything troubling you faded away. should listen to him more often, you pondered.

the old-fashioned clock hanging from above the fridge appeared to stop clicking with each mouthful of the decadent dessert, and if the man who had offered you a home in his luxurious estate teased you for this later, you simply would not care. after a particularly large bite though, an echoed grunt sounded in the next room, causing you to set the nearly empty jar on the counter. whoever that was-they sounded angry. your curious mind prompted your feet to move cautiously across the cold tiles with no regard to the possibility of it being an intruder. it seemed as if tonight you were on a quest to find something-anything-that would give you a thrill. yes, if someone was in fact in his home, and if by chance you were the one who discovered them, it wouldn’t be so exhilarating. yet, as your feet traversed further into the dark halls, and your brain continued joining dangerous situations together, you mindlessly wandered into something damn near close to threatening.

“tom?” a faint, quivering voice questioned. an innocent, ignorant little mouse caught in a trap. a pair of eyes shot up to meet your horror-struck features, taking in every possible detail they could make out through the obscurity of the room. then, he smiled. a small, deceiving curve of his lips made your heart jump hurdles, and right now, it was difficult to pinpoint whether it was fear or something a little more than infatuation.

“darling, i’m so glad you decided to join us.” the dark-suited man stood up straight, a hand extended towards you invitingly. by now, it was evident that tom never asked politely, never offered anything to anyone; he just took whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. which is why his rough palm had now enveloped your tiny one. he adjusted the cushion behind you so you could have a seat, advising you that your line of vision had to be vast if you were to see what came next.

“what-no! who the hell is that! why is he-oh god-why is he tied up!” a meek attempt at rising up from the couch was ceased by a strong pair of hands gripping either of your thighs. it shouldn’t have provided you a passive wave of goosebumps on your skin, not from something so minimal. he felt them, too; the rush of your skin and how it was suddenly so cold, and now it was damn near-boiling. his orbs were obsidian, a single glare from them mixed with the timidness of your own. “i’m sorry. can you just tell me, please?” you amended weakly.

“oh, honey, you don’t have to be sorry.” a gentle stroke to your hair was followed by a reassuring grin. tom tugged a loose strand of your behind your ear before turning to the side, nudging to the half-beaten person in the middle of the room. “but he does.”

with the light adjusting accordingly now, the features of this stranger didn’t seem to be so unfamiliar anymore. upon closer inspection, the realization hit you like a blow to the chest. “oh my god, is that-”

“the fucking man who’s been bothering you? yeah, that’s the one.” it came out of tom’s throat as a growl, every word dripping with disgust at the mere acknowledgment. “should’ve talked to me about it-put an end to this son of a bitch sooner.” the grasp on your fragile legs turned tighter, your mouth falling open at the flutter of pain that came with it. “close your pretty little mouth before i forget we have company, baby.”

in an instant, he wasn’t centimeters close to your face anymore; his hands no longer held your aching skin, but rather the other man’s throat. a whirlwind of threats, punches, and blows encaptured your entire focus, and to say it didn’t entice you (among other things) would be a blatant lie. fully prominent on tom’s neck, the darkened profile of his snake tattoo maneuvered with every searing hit he made. the moon-the very same one you saw only minutes ago-casted a shadow on his rings, and the one you’d caught yourself staring at one too many times glistened back. perhaps this was your own personal heaven? or were you possibly in a drug-induced coma; the man looking at you once every few seconds with a mischievous glint in his eye a mere conjuring of your brain?

a command was given, and an obedient man went on to lift your stalker’s limp form from the chair. you had almost missed it, given your disorganized (and very much hormonal) state of mind. tom came to rest beside you once he gave instructions to another one of his men, a leg crossing over the other as his arms snaked around the couch. he didn’t say anything, regardless of how intensely you were looking at him. all he did was relax, or appear to be, while his men scurried to obey their boss. a few seconds later, one of the few you recognized handed you a tub of ice cream, red velvet flavored this time, and a clean spoon. a look of confusion spread on your face, unbeknownst to just about anything you believed to be certain. all tom did was laugh at your concern, assuring you he wouldn’t bother you with witty remarks if you satiated your craving.

“wait, how did you know i was eating some in the first place?” you ask mid spoonful. you miss the drop of creamy texture that starts to drizzle on the side of your mouth, but tom sure doesn’t. with a slow, swift movement of his hand, his thumb is wiping it off before putting it into his mouth.

“darling, you may think i know nothing when it comes to you, but i know everything.”

#tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland au #tom holland fanfiction #mafia boss #tom holland #marvel #mcu #mafia!tom holland #mafia!tom

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cloveroctobers · 3 years

Text

SEBASTIAN “SEB” KATSAROS —

IG bio/info: @/s3bgl00m | 17.4k followers | i hate it here. i hate my username name too. Listen to my podcast wth my mate here...open.Spotify.com/podcast/?!.doomngloom

28 years of age

Born & raised in Liverpool, England...don’t ask if he’s met the Beatles he will completely ignore you if you do

Music shop owner in the heart of town

It’s called, “Kicking Kettles”

loves collecting vinyls, cassette tapes, & cds sorry, what did you expect?

His mother is a children’s illustrator

She’s Ashkenazi Jewish

His father is a graphic designer

And is from Nafplio, Greece

They’ve been separated for about a year now, with seb’s father living in France

His mother was skeptical on dating around while she was in a place of uncertainty in her marriage but with a deep discussion with her husband, then her children, she slowly went forward just to see what was out there & found that she wasn’t sure if she’d be open permanently with other beings

Seb was similar to his mother in many ways...

Has a older sister by 2 years named, Xenia...she’s very bossy, a busy-body, & is very vocal. The opposite of seb

she used to beat up guys just for them to turn around and ask her out on dates, a few of them tried to bully seb but Xenia was not having that ofc

very close to his family, even if things are a little off between mum & dad

I feel like he went through a buzzed hair phase & when he finally made the choice to start growing out his hair, going on 4-5 years now, everyone seemed to approve

Even if they didn’t? It be no matter, sure he’d feel a little awkward if someone he cared about didn’t like it but he was sure they would get over it OR get used to it

The hair only comes out when he’s showering or going to bed

His best friend who’s a barber (and a bit of a douche) tells him he’s got to let his hair breathe more often or he’ll have breakage, seb doesn’t think it’s that serious? He’s not sure how much longer he’ll keep the bun now anyways...

This same friend encouraged him to get a “Pompadour” haircut & seb’s never been so offended before in his life, “I wouldn’t want to look like the rest of you knob-heads.”

Anyways, he takes care of his hair the best way he knows how and it seems to work for him...some slightly expensive haircare products here and there & a trimmer & he’s good to go

When he first started growing his hair out, he felt like he needed to go to the salon to know how to manage it. After awhile he learned how to do it on his own + you save $ that way

uses his hands to talk or holds one hand in the other when having a conversation since he doesn’t know what to do with his hands exactly

He’s a chapstick kinda guy who always loses his before he can finish it (been there)

Absolutely loves Japanese food and eats it almost everyday

Japanese Mayo is the superior condiment, bill can stfu!!

probably watches anime

owns a bunch of vans, beanies, and hoodies

smokes hookah every now & then but isn’t too crazy about it

canon: catlover! I feel like he would have a Sphynx, Abyssinian, Ocicat, or oriental shorthair + was over the moon when his baby had babies !!!

He wanted to keep all 5 of the kittens but knew he probably couldn’t, at least not forever but he was going to wait until they were all at least a few months before he decided to put them up for adoption...which sucks but would ultimately be the best choice, maybe???

tried eyeliner again outside of the villa & finds pencil or pomade is better than the standard liquid liner

likes black nail polish but is slightly embarrassed to be seen out with it, it’s the same thing with the eyeliner...he’s not that confident

the guy is a huge blusher & he despises the fact that his face betrays him 80% of the time

often gets nosebleeds

loves red wine especially if it’s on a rainy day and he’s home to fully enjoy it, he feels like he’s on his grown man shit when he does so

I feel like he’d be a fan of the umbrella academy & thinks it’s way better than stranger things...him & nick have argued over this on doom n gloom!

Five is his favorite

Everything he owns is in either black, red, gray/grey, or green

His main phobia is emetophobia (fear of v*mit) & he won’t share why, that’s just what it is

Introvert!

Canon: he’s not a Aquarius

So wtf r ya? Nick & I would like to know plz

Virgo sun? + Taurus moon? + Pisces rising?

I feel like he’s one of those people that feels the need to bring a backpack with him everywhere and you can imagine it to be black ofc

“Who tf are you Linus? But with a backpack?” His sister often jokes (I do this with my sibs, both of them love carrying backpacks. Me on the other hand? I don’t have time for the shit)

He drives a shitty car from the 90s that’s Engine sounds as if it’s about to blow

but 100% perfers to drive his moped, Atticus around

played football (soccer) growing up to help get rid of his asthma

Cannot sleep with the tv on or any form of light around him, it has to be completely dark & quiet!

He’ll only do so if it’s with Genevieve since you know they’re trying this whole long distance thing out

Are one of those couples that will fall asleep on the phone/cpu together

Genevieve might be the, “no you hang up first” & seb will actually hang up the phone and get into bed lmao

Just for vieve to call back like?!! “I can’t believe you’ve done this!

“Well you said—

“Never mind what I said, sebz!!! It’s extremely rude...”

his last relationship before Genevieve lasted 6-8 months (there was a time when he felt like he was unsure if he was still in a couple with that person, isn’t that a shame?)

his love language is acts of service, he’ll do things for you to ease your worries out of love and not obligation so that you feel valued as his partner & I believe he wants this in return as well

I think he’s a bit of a worry wart too when it comes to certain things even if his exterior might show him trying to hide it

He was super nervous to get his first tattoo on his chest, “if words fail, music speaks” but he found that the slight pain was worth it? And quite nice! then he kept going back monthly and soon enough his arms were completely covered

mum hated it, her baby boy was becoming a man! (It’s not like he’s almost 30 but you know how moms are)

Deff has a collection of silver rings, he’s tried out necklaces but he thinks he looks better with his rings

The slit in his brow came from trying to squeeze thru the broken patio glass door with his sis as if it were some booby trap (not exactly, but a safety hazard forsure!) & a piece of glass fell from above slicing his brow and left him with 4 stitches

Secretly into watching those dating shows before and after experiencing it himself

people he enjoyed seeing on the Telly from previous seasons: jen, jake, talia, erikah, lottie, Noah, Carl, Kassam, Priya, & Hannah

AJ is his best girl friend (besides vieve) they FaceTime quite a bit & chat shit to each other on the daily

Feels like she fits in well with his friend group, which just contains his barber friend — they put up with his banter & give it right back to him but he can also be vulnerable & comfortable with those around him so that’s always a plus

It’s the same with nick, except they share a hobby together, their podcast & that’s what seb wants to keep it as, a hobby, for fun & giggles yet nick is thinking about getting paid for what they do. He thinks it’s a great idea whereas seb doesn’t want this to turn into a career/chore

He’s perfectly happy at kicking kettles

He feels strongly about his stance while nick is on both sides

They’ll figure it out, soon.

How are things outside of the villa & since the boat party? They all have a group chat that they randomly speak up in, in the beginning they would do morning and goodnight texts but that became tedious so they settled for either or. Or simply just checking in to see how each other’s days went with seb secretly being the most curious to everyone’s days

Things are awkward between him and Yasmin, he kinda avoids talking to her tbh & not because he doesn’t want to...its just yeah it’s not the same with him and aj where they can easily move forward, it feels like pulling teeth with Yasmin since they’re some what similar & it seems like she’s waiting on him to take the lead on fixing some imagined issue they have with each other? It’s weird idk

Lives in a cramped studio apartment, it works for him so he doesn’t need any inputs thank you

celeb crushes? Demi lovato, Hwasa, Amanda Seyfried, & Birgundi Angel Baker

as for music? Sleeping with sirens, pierce the veil, teagan & Sara, the pierces, panic!at the disco, all time low, twenty one pilots, x-ambassadors, awolnation, jon bellion— listen when atl dropped? Seb felt like he was reborn okay?! , Japanese breakfast, & great grandpa

Anthem = The Postal Service, “Such great heights”

#litg #litg s3 #litg3 #litg seb #litg genevieve #litg yasmin #litg bill #litg aj #litg nicky #litg moodboard #litg headcanons #litg headcanon #why can’t I keep things brief? but it’s understandable when this season gave us the bare minimum #idk how i feel about this one but I tried!

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tsipasce · 3 years

Text

Same Difference Ch.17

A/N: Here is your reward for enduring last week lmao. This one is a bit long, but cutting it up just didn't seem as gratifying so I hope you guys enjoy.

Also, thank you so much for all the kudos, comments and bookmarks on AO3 and FFN-- you guys are too kind :'). I'll try posting more regularly on Tumblr too if ppl wanna read it here. Let me know what y'all think~

There was darkness, then flickers of lights and the occasional overwhelming flow of noises before it ebbed to silence and darkness yet again. First, she felt she was on a hard surface like concrete, then cold metal, then something cushion-like… a bed? Her thoughts were incoherent, presenting more as disjointed words and feelings. Anger, regret, hurt, with a sprinkle of sadness on top. Her body was heavy, every limb feeling as though the blood had been replaced with lead. Her head lolled and she heard someone suddenly shift at her side, the bed dipping under the pressure of said someone leaning on it and over her but was too out of it to open her eyes. Acquiescing, she fell back into unconsciousness.

An indefinite amount of time passed while she was in the darkness before her senses began to return fully. She heard typing, now able to feel a presence nearby. She wanted to open her eyes, but the task seemed too daunting still, simply listening would have to be enough for now.

“I can stand watch for now, if you’d like.” One voice offered, softly.

“What I’d like is to be left alone.” The other replied curtly.

“I see. We’re going to leave in the next few hours, I’ll get everyone ready.”

“You do that.”

Well this guy sounds like a treat… Nanami thought, her sarcasm unsurprisingly returning before the rest of her senses and memories. There were footsteps and then a soft thud, like a door being carefully shut. A couple moments passed before she heard what sounded like a laptop being closed, then footsteps coming towards her, and then silence. She desperately wanted to wake up, but her body refused to cooperate, causing her eyes to flutter behind her eyelids as she struggled in vain to move. She could sense the presence hadn’t left and she felt anxious as to what might happen next before hearing a sigh. She felt a sheet being pulled up to cover her arms, where goosebumps had been forming from the draft in wherever she was.

“I’ll deal with you when I get back.” The voice said with a hint of annoyance, though it was betrayed by its gentle tone. Hearing footsteps growing fainter, a door opened and closed once more. The words themselves were threatening but the way they were spoken, she felt oddly comforted. Falling back into the darkness, she decided to cultivate her energy and try her luck at waking up again later.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Emerging from the darkness again, the pain began immediately. Her head throbbed and she reflexively tried to groan but found her mouth and throat painfully full. Instantly recognizing the feeling, panic set in, the only other thing she could perceive being the desperate need for it to stop. She grabbed the tube, disassembling and reassembling it outside her body. The large obstruction dropped unceremoniously to the floor and she coughed, glad to be rid of it.

“Don’t be so rough with the equipment.”

She rolled her head to the direction of the voice, a bright light hitting her eyes as she struggled to open them for the first time since… Damn. It all came rushing back to her at once, the voice no longer a mystery. Her vision focused and she found herself looking at Overhaul as he sat at her bedside. His mask was on as he stared at her blankly. She stared back for a beat, not knowing how to begin speaking about what brought them to this point. Deciding she should be fully awake and rested for that conversation, she mentally tabled it, opting for their usual banter instead.

“It’s still intact isn’t it?” She cleared her throat, massaging it as she continued, “How long was I out?”

“Three days.”

“THREE DAYS?” Her eyes shot wide, another coughing fit beginning as she raised her voice after not speaking for days.

“Yes, that’s what I said.” He grimaced, moving back a bit at her sudden outburst, “Cough in the other direction.”

“No surprise that your bedside manner could use some work.” She sighed as she adjusted to raise herself up, wincing as her sore muscles tried their best to comply. He promptly rose, putting a pillow behind her as she sat up, his expression blank yet attentive, “Thanks.”

He nodded as he took his seat again and the silence continued, painfully. It felt like their first meeting all over again, neither knowing how to broach the awkward topic. Looking back, Nanami was angry at how insufferably rude he could be but couldn’t ignore her own part in this. A pang of guilt sat heavily in her chest when she remembered how easily she let her emotions get the best of her; she hadn’t told someone off like that in ages. In her mind, it in no way absolved him, but to say it was all his fault would be a lie. In that moment of rage, she… What did I do anyway? She glanced down, now more confused than anything, her brows furrowing before looking at him.

“Let’s chat.”

He readjusted in his chair, leaning back as he crossed his legs and folded his arms across his chest, “Let’s.”

His body language oozed condescension as though she was about to be scolded like a child and she hated it, “Why’d you attack me. Again.”

His eyes narrowed, displeased with how she was beginning their talk,” That was going to be my question to you. I thought we had a deal.”

“What are you talking about? We did—we do—I did not attack you.” she defended. Nanami knew they were both wrong for getting so worked up, but she wouldn’t stoop that low over an argument. “I was wrong, we both were for getting so heated, but I wouldn’t just start throwing hands like that. So again, why did you attack me? I thought… I thought we got passed all that.”

His brow furrowed at the implication, his jaw clenching uncomfortably at the hurt in her voice, “We are. We’re far passed all of that.” He intoned with a level of sincerity that seemed foreign to him. Having spent the past three days chastising himself for putting her in this position, wishing the exchange could be taken back, it was difficult to sound detached. He’d been angry, but harming her had been something he’d put out of his mind some time ago, “I didn’t attack you either…”

They both shared a moment of sincere confusion. Overhaul hadn’t come out unscathed either, having to heal his own head injury as well as a cracked vertebra from the impact once he came to. “Then what the hell happened?” Nanami asked, speaking the question they were both wrestling with. She looked around the room for her bag at the same time Overhaul reached for his laptop.

“We should run tests.” They said in unison. He handed her her notebook from the bag and a pen as they began noting exactly what happened leading up to the explosion. As she recalled the events, there were a number of theories that came to mind, as well as ideas on how to safely perform reenactments of what transpired, but she also remembered the argument beforehand. He was somehow even more quiet than usual, and she could tell his gears were turning that morning, but the hostility seemed so out of the blue. Putting down her pen, he glanced up at her, noticing the sound of her writing had stopped and she was staring down thoughtfully.

“Did you think of something?”

“…Yeah. I did. Why’d you pick a fight with me that day?”

He looked back down at his keyboard and continued typing, “I don’t know what you mean. That little tiff was a joint effort.”

“No, no, no. It may have ended up that way, but you blew up at me after an entire week of solid teamwork. I expect the snide comments and the general air of grumpiness, but that was different… What happened?” He made the mistake of making eye contact with her. She didn’t look angry, just hurt.

Taken aback, all he could manage was “… I don’t know.” He wasn’t sure how to respond to that “emotion” nor did he have any plans to discuss feelings. If he was being honest, he wasn’t even sure why he did it himself. Perhaps it was self-sabotage and he was pushing her away, but to accept that would mean acknowledging they had gotten close; that he had, at some point, made the subconscious decision to stop viewing her as a pawn or even just a colleague, and to indulge the need for far more than their formal arrangement. He wasn’t ready to come to terms with the possible loss of his objectivity when it came to whatever went on between them, but he knew he’d have to confront the undercurrents of their relationship at some point. Right now, they had discovered a possible breakthrough in their research and there was no room for delay. With a ghost of a plan in mind for how to move forward with Nanami, he decided it would be more logical to smooth things over in the immediate moment with Dr. Watanabe; separating the two identities giving him the illusion of control. He continued” But I do know it won’t happen again. That was…unprofessional. How is your head?”

She bit her lip and exhaled, seeing the switch flick in his eyes knowing the wall had been put back up. “It’s... it’s fine. Just a little—no, really sore.” She confirmed with herself, rubbing her hand over the source of the pain to find stiches. Why wouldn’t he just overhaul this? “So, you decided to fix this the old-fashioned way, huh? The stitchwork is impeccable, but why go through the trouble? You could have just—”

“I didn’t want to touch you.”

“… Ouch.” She winced, glancing away as the abrupt response hurt a bit more than she expected.

Realizing it hadn’t been received how he planned, he clarified,” I meant I…didn’t want to use it on you. I was under the impression we had somehow attacked each other and assumed you might not find the prospect of me handling you in that way all that appealing.”

“…Oh. Well, thank you... I don’t mind if you touch me now” he rose a brow at this, “—I mean like to heal or—Oh you know what I mean.” She rolled her eyes before crossing her arms and continuing, “Just… just do it, please.” The last word tacked on with a mumble.

Letting out an amused breath, he rose, motioning her to turn so her back faced him as he removed his gloves. She quickly brushed her hair to the side, missing a few strands. She tensed as he was much closer than she was prepared for, feeling the warmth of his hands against the nape of her neck as he gently gathered the stray hairs and handed them to her to gather in front. Smoothing down the part, he leisurely ran his hands through her hair, losing himself for a second before noticing the tops of her ears had reddened and her breath had quickened at his ministrations. Refocusing, he disassembled the stitches before immediately healing the wound knowing even a millisecond of delay would prove very painful. “Done.”

Cracking her neck and rolling her shoulders, she felt normal again and ready to get out of bed as her muscles had been unused for the better part of three days. Checking the time on her phone on the nightstand she saw it was only 6 am, “So, you wanna go for a run?”

“That’s not funny.”

“Fine, fine. But on a serious note, I think we should head to the lab. I know the deal was 2 weeks bu—”

“You don’t have to bargain. Get cleaned up, I’ll start preparations for testing tomorrow.”

She turned to him, brows raised in surprise, “Well okay then. I’ll see you back at the house.”

“See you there.” He said before exiting her room, shutting the door softly.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After a thorough scrubbing and stretching, she felt ready to get back to her remaining paperwork, putting on her favorite chunky turtleneck and sweatpants effectively pulling off the lazy-but-still-fashionable look. Brewing herself a cup of tea and pulling out her workbag, she thought it best to not dwell on all the Feels ™ that had continuously threatened to surface, which was undoubtedly exacerbated by their current living situation.

She was woman enough to admit she stared just a little too long, smiled just a bit too enthusiastically, and was way too excited by even the smallest bits of physical contact with him… But it’s just a crush. She lied to herself as though he hadn’t been the most intellectually stimulating person she’d had the pleasure of talking to. As though she’d ever felt silence more comfortable than their time in the lab or simply sharing meals together. As though— Girl if you don’t concentrate... She chastised herself before attempting to neatly compartmentalize her feelings, refusing to acknowledge just how much more difficult keeping them in check had become. It’s just because you’re all up under each other, it’ll pass.

Refocusing on the task at hand, she opened her laptop and pulled out a well-worn file folder, her gaze turning somber as her fingers traced the bend of it; evidence of the many nights she’d revisited it only to close it when the answers didn’t come. In the past month she’d taken on a patient who seemingly had nowhere to go. Many of her colleagues had turned him away, seemingly too jaded to go through the trouble of dealing with such a case. Nanami herself was puzzled when she reviewed his file, but she knew there was no other option; she had to at least try.

Kenta was a very jovial, large person with a personality to match. Built much like a strongman with tusks not unlike a walrus, he was hard to miss. Before he became her patient, she’d see him making small talk with the other patients, encouraging them though he himself was on the way to chemotherapy, his weight dwindling by the day. The previous doctors told him that he had osteosarcoma, a rare form of bone cancer. It was seemingly exacerbated by his quirk that gave him dense bones; they were perfect for diving, but apparently came at this very high price. The treatment had shown mild success, but her predecessors had decided his condition was becoming too advanced and an amputation was in order. After that visit, he attempted to keep his jovial nature, but his physical appearance continued to deteriorate, the medication and tests taking their toll. Full-hardy laughs were interrupted by coughing fits, round cheeks flexed into a habitual smile were replaced with gaunt hollows. Nanami couldn’t help but feel was cruel to be given such great power and still be unable to solve this problem.

She agonized, sincerely perplexed as to why someone as healthy and active as Kenta could have developed such an aggressive and rare form of cancer so quickly. It didn’t helped that after the first doctor’s diagnosis, the subsequent three doctors took little to no efforts to confirm said diagnosis, so she remained thoroughly unconvinced. She was a prodigy in her own right, but that alone couldn’t negate seniority. To go against the other doctors, she would need substantial proof of her theory—and also a theory to begin with.

Nanami was stirred from her thoughts by the sound of the silo being activated, as Overhaul stepped out. It had been hours since she had last gotten up as day turned into late night, too engrossed in her task. She glanced up for a moment, giving an absent-minded “hey” before returning to her work. It was unlike her to brush him off so quickly, and he assumed there were still hard feelings from earlier. Approaching her, he was about to speak before he caught a glimpse of her screen and notes, the file folder and its contents now haphazardly splayed on the coffee table, a few with drops of moisture on them.

“Didn’t I tell you no drinking in the living roo—” he stopped short, hearing a small sniffle escape her, before she attempted to cover it up by clearing her throat.

“Sorry, yeah, no drinking in the living room.” She laughed emptily, gathering the papers that were stained.

Seeing people cry was usually... uninspiring to him, to say the least; he couldn’t understand it, the need for such dramatic displays as an adult. But he found himself making exceptions more and more; she wasn’t one to throw herself on the floor in a tantrum—at least not seriously. Her tears were stifled, indignant, and his curiosity—yes, we’ll call it “curiosity”— got the better of him.

“What are you doing? Crying?”

“No!... Maybe.” She stubbornly corrected, further averting her gaze, hoping to use her hair as a curtain to obscure her face. Pausing for a beat, his attention turned to what he presumed was the source. He read over it as she attempted to fix her face. His brow furrowed, and Nanami turned back to see what he was doing. “Why do you care?”

“Osteosarcoma seems like an odd diagnosis for someone with his age and history.” He noted, choosing not to answer her question.

“That’s what I said!” she instinctually replied before remembering herself, “I mean quit snooping, this is patient-doctor information. It’s illegal to share.”

“Yet you brought it outside your office, to a yakuza base.” He deadpanned, pointing out the hypocrisy, taking a seat next to her on the couch. She pursed her lips, continuing to mull over theories, assuming he’d get bored and leave her be. “If not osteosarcoma, what do you think it could be?”

Knowing discretion was one of his strong suits, she decided to humor him. “I’m not sure. The tumor grew extremely fast and they began chemo almost immediately, so I didn’t get the benefit of a fresh diagnosis. He’d been perfectly healthy otherwise and his line of work kept him pretty active.”

“What’s his occupation?”

“He’s a commercial diver, it’s pretty fitting since his quirk gives him a lot of walrus-like qualities.”

“Sounds hazardous.”

“You’re one to talk. He’s practically made for it so drowning or being crushed under the pressure is near-impossible for him.”

“I was referring to all of the equipment. The fact that he’s kept all of his limbs up to this point is impressive.”

Slowly turning to him, a tired look on her face, she replied “… Your compliments are so very strange.”

Shrugging he continued, “It’s not that odd. The number of divers and sailors I’ve seen at port with mutilated legs is not small.”

Nanami was mid eye-roll when an epiphany struck her. Her eyes went wide, and she began frantically rummaging through the paperwork. "Shit-- wait, online!" grabbing her laptop, she began typing in a frenzy as Overhaul watched calmly. Finding Kenta's online records in the hospital database, she read a file from a month before his diagnosis stating he had been in a diving accident that severely fractured his leg where his tumor now was. She let out a shaky breath of excitement, "MO. It's fucking Myositis Ossificans! This explains why the 'tumor' grew so quickly. It's because it wasn't even really a tumor, just his body's response to a traumatic injury-- This is amazing!"

He felt the corner of his mouth tug upward, as she practically wiggled in genuine excitement. “That diagnosis sounds much more appropriate.”

Facing him on the couch, she reflexively grabbed him by his shoulders, lost in excitement, before realizing what she was doing. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to just grab you like that,” she hurriedly removed her hands before he waved it off. “It’s just... I’ve been poring over this since I got this case but hadn’t thought to make that connection since he never mentioned the injury.” Thinking back for a moment, it dawned on her, “... how did you know to ask?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.”

Smiling, he rose, walking to the kitchen, “Would you like a cup?”

Very aware he was evading her question, she rolled her eyes smiling in kind “Sure. Of what?” She wrote down her final notes before putting away the files, tucking them and her laptop away as she waited for an answer.

Bringing over two cups of sake and the bottle, he sat next her with his own before sliding over her cup. She gave him a look and he sighed, “Consider it your reward for your work today. But don’t get used to it, my living room consumption rule still stands.”

She raised her hands in surrender, chuckling before taking a sip. “Oh! Let’s play a game.”

His brows furrowed as he continued to face forward still enjoying his drink,” Do I seem like a man who plays games?”

“Well, judging by the shogi board, I’d say yes.”

“… Just set the board.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a bit before starting the odd conversation, chatting and playing until they were on their fourth cup. Nanami was admittedly tipsy by this point and decided to ask something that had been on her mind for a while now with the aid of her liquid courage. If ever there was an opportunity, it was now, “Hey, why didn’t you ever become a doctor?” The question caught him off guard as he stopped drinking and peered off into the distance thoughtfully. His lips parting for a moment to speak before closing again to consider his answer.

“It would be difficult to treat people you can’t touch.”

“Hm… sounds like a copout. I wear gloves on the job at least 80% of the time and a lot of the non-surgical work that requires touching could easily be done by a nurse. So, what’s the real reason?”

“Well, you’re awfully bold tonight.”

“Eh, it’s your fault anyway,” she reminded him, toying with the sake glass. “So, are you gonna tell me or not?”

He considered her for a second before answering, “Win this game and I’ll tell you.”

“Easy.” She shot back before considering another outcome, “and what if I lose?”

He smiled easily, her stomach flipping as a glint of mischief was evident in his eyes, “Just try your best to win.”

Nanami was determined, or at least she convinced herself she was, not wanting to confront her curiosity at what he would do if she lost … or what he would do to me… Ok, let me put down this sake before I get a life sentence to horny jail. Recomposing herself a bit, she observed the board, stifling a smirk when she saw her path to victory. It was a moderately long game, but the outcome was in her favor as she took his king. Raising the piece betwixt her fingers, she smirked, “Now spill the beans.”

He stared into the proverbial abyss, slightly peeved at the loss, priding himself as a more-than proficient player before tonight. “Give me a moment.” He said casually raising a finger as he cleared his throat. Taking a measured sip from his cup before locking eyes with her, “I have a duty.” Nanami shot him an unsatisfactory look before he clarified, continuing, “Pops took me in when I had nothing to offer. This,” he began as he leered at his hands, recalling the destruction they regularly wrought, “is what I was meant to become in order to repay him. Bringing the yakuza back to their former glory and carrying on his legacy are my primary objectives. My time is limited since he’s not as young as he used to be. The years of schooling it would take to reap the benefits he deserves would prove much too long. Indulging in a dream like that is not in my nature, even if I did have the time. That is why.”

Her smile dulled as she processed his response. She wasn’t self-righteous enough to impose her own ideals on him, but it seemed like such a waste. His leading questions tonight were just one of many examples of his expertise. Even without the formal schooling he had a level of mastery that could easily earn him a degree, and coupled with his research skills, he could do a world of good. But instead here he was, content with just the opportunity to pay his debts. For someone so arrogant, he thought surprisingly little of his own nature. Maybe someday someone could convince him he didn’t have to carry around this weight all the time. Still very tipsy, she responded,” Well, if it’s a dream of yours to begin with, your nature can’t be all that bad now can it?” At this he knitted his brows, trying to accept the possibility. Seeing his hesitation, she continued, “You can do both, you know. Give yourself some more credit, bird brain.” She slurred the last insult, finishing her sake off with a gulp, not wanting to sound too soft. Feeling the consequences of her actions, she swayed sleepily in her seat before closing her eyes.

The next thing she knew, she felt herself being nudged awake, “Come on, get up. You need to get into bed.”

“But it’s sooo comfy here. Why are you being such a buzzkill, Kai?” she whined as he grasped her forearms, encouraging her to rise from her seat.

Stopping in his tracks, he asked a bit taken aback, “Where did you hear that name?”

“Your Poppy Pops told me” She almost sang, a grin plastered on her face.

“…Do not ever use the phrase ‘Poppy Pops’ again. Also, if couches were meant for sleeping, beds wouldn’t exist.” He responded irritated, though he handled her like porcelain, still remembering how unpleasant the last three days had been. Guiding Nanami to her room, he finally got her to lay down after tuning out a slew of other ridiculous nickname proposals, the drowsiness setting in as soon as her head hit the pillow. Knowing it would be too much work convincing a now drunk Nanami to get under the covers, he begrudgingly put a spare blanket over her. Before leaving, he looked back at her sleepy form. As much as they could grate each other’s nerves, no one had ever thought to encourage him or challenge his own thinking besides his father. He had never been a warm or sentimental person, having to try thrice as hard to grasp emotions that came so naturally to others, but she had planted a seed of doubt. Having always been so confident in his own lacking, he found a part of himself excited to be proven wrong for the first time. Before closing the door softly, he spoke “Thank you, Nanami.”

#overhaul #kai chisaki #chisaki kai #bnha #mha overhaul #overhaul fanfiction #mha fanfic #overhaul x oc #bnha fanfic #mha oc #overhaul x nanami #nanami watanabe #same difference #mc fanart #multichapter #fanfiction #fanfic #overhaul fanfic

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nev3rfound · 5 years

Text

you came home? : s.r

brief summary: being in a relationship with steve when he travels back to return the infinity stones and wondering if he’ll come home to you or stay in another timeline

word count: 1.8k requested: yes - by @ruby-bloop this idea is so freaking cute, I couldn’t resist it! warnings: minor endgame spoilers(?) but honestly it’s fluffy af

* masterlistin’

* commissions (feel free to click, idk why I try lol)

fun fact: I can’t not post something once I’ve written it. I planned on waiting to post this tomorrow, but I love it too much to hold it back lmao.

Wiping your hands over your black dress, Bucky rests his arm around you as you stand between him and Sam. After everything that has happened, the things you’ve all endured and those you’ve lost, you have found a small victory.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” It was a question that lingered on your mind ever since Steve said he’d be the one to return the stones. You knew if anyone was going to do it, Steve would volunteer himself immediately.

Deep down you could see the look in his eyes at the thought of travelling back in time. You knew you wouldn’t see the man you loved again once he disappeared, if he did return, he’d have lived a whole other life without any of you in it. And that broke your heart.

Bucky clenched his jaw as he looked over to Sam, his expression mirroring Buckys. “We don’t know what’ll happen in there, doll.” Bucky speaks up, looking down at you as tears fall from your eyes.

After all this time, you tried to keep it back. You didn’t want anyone to see you cry, but today was too much. Everyone around you was filled with sorrow, but the thought of losing Steve as well was a thought that hurt too much.

Steve steps out in his suit and glances over at the three of you. He can already see you trying to hold everything back for his sake, you can’t be the reason he changes his mind.

“Return them in the exact order.” Bruce explains to Steve as he closes the case, locking it shut as Sam wanders over, leaving your side.

“You know, I could come with you.” Sam tries to persuade Steve, and you watch as a small smile forms on his face.

Pausing, Steve faces Sam, resting his hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good man, Sam. But some things are meant to be done alone.”

The words rang through you. He needed to do this alone. If he was with someone, he couldn’t possibly stay.

Lowering your head, Bucky releases his hand from around you. “Come on, doll.” He mutters softly, taking a step forward as his face drops.

You watch from the side as Steve stands in front of his best friend. After all this time, against all of the odds, they’re both still alive. You couldn’t have comprehended any of it, no one could have. You remember the day the Winter Soldier attacked Sam’s car, how Bucky tried to kill you. If it wasn’t for Steve saving you, you might not be stood by their side now.

“Don’t do anything stupid ‘til I get back.” Steve tells Bucky, watching the sorrow fill his blue eyes.

Bucky forces a light laugh. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

There’s a brief pause before Steve reaches out, bringing Bucky into a tight hug before pulling away and turning to you.

He takes a hold of your hand, leading you away from everyone else. No matter how hard you try, you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. “Hey, don’t cry.” Steve tries to comfort you. He brings his hand up, resting it on your cheek as he wipes the tears that escape.

You sniff lightly, trying to laugh it off. “I’m sorry, I just,” You can’t bring yourself to say it. If you admit it to him, you’ll forever feel guilty about him coming home. If you keep the words contained, he’ll never know and can live a life he’s dreamed about since he woke up from the ice.

Steve can see something inside of you screaming to be said, deep down he knows he wants to say it back. But all he can think about is the time he knew, a place he felt comfortable and first found himself. Having the chance to go back is a possibility to him, how could he miss the chance?

“I know, love.” Steve mutters, bringing you into his arms.

The pair of you stand, wrapped up together for a minute before a heavy sigh leaves Steve’s lips. “Make us proud, Cap.” You tell him as he walks up onto the platform.

Bucky returns to your side, flashing a sad smile as you watch Steve’s dark suit be covered in all white. He bends down, picking up Mjölnir and the case before nodding to Bruce.

Your eyes dart over, having heard it’ll be a matter of seconds before he comes back.

Within a blink of an eye, Steve is gone. You turn around, walking away knowing deep down he won’t be coming home. You faintly listen to the worry in Sam’s voice, the confusion Bruce mutters whilst you turn your back. They’re both panicking about Steve. He’s been gone too long for this to be okay.

Tears roll down your cheeks as you look down at your watch, seeing another minute roll on by. It cements what you feared, but knew what would happen. That Steve decided to stay.

“Sam?” Bucky calls out, interrupting the pacing you can hear from behind you.

“What?” Sam is blunt in his response, but you hear him sigh quietly before walking in your direction. “Y/n,” He speaks up, standing in front of you. He rests his hands on your shoulders, focusing on your eyes. “you might wanna turn around.” Sam tries to force back his smile, and you can feel your heart beating in your throat.

Slowly, you turn around to see Steve, the same Steve that left minutes ago before you with a smile on his face. “Buck didn’t do anything stupid did he?” Steve jokes, and you sniff before running over and wrapping your arms around him.

Steve drops the hammer, holding you back as he picks you up off of the ground. Though it had been minutes for you, Steve had been gone for years. He hadn’t seen you, heard your laugh or had the chance to talk to you for decades.

The only chance Steve had was when he was returning the mind stone. He saw you stood in the streets amongst a series of scared civilians. You weren’t an official Avenger yet, but everyone knew of you. He watched as you smiled to him, not knowing the effect it had on his heart as it pulled at the strings holding it together, nearly causing them to snap.

“You still down for pizza later, Cap?” You call to him, and Steve turns back to catch you once again.

That was the first date he ever took you on. You didn’t know it was a date. To you, it was a colleague thing, getting to know an Avenger before you join. What you hadn’t expected was the chivalry, the humour he had and the pure joy you felt around him.

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up at 7?” Steve tells you, watching you nod before you help civilians get out of the streets, disappearing out of sight.

Ever since seeing you then, you were all Steve could think about. When he travelled back to Brooklyn for old times sake, he wandered the streets he used to walk with Bucky, laugh with him as he struggled to breathe properly. No one noticed Steve, turned their heads to look at him. Despite the passing of time, he didn’t stand out.

And then he saw her. Her brunette hair pinned in curls, that pencil skirt with heels as she stood in the street, holding a gun. Steve watched as a younger version of himself darted toward her, saving her from being hit by the car.

He watched, seeing her defiance even then before she fully knew him. He could see the blush crossing her cheeks, the corners of her lips rising.

Steve stood still as he hid in the shadows, watching his former self walk alongside Peggy. He knew he still owed her that dance. Maybe now he could finally give her that last promise.

But Steve couldn’t. All he could think about was the girl back home, waiting on that date in 2012. He thought about the memories you shared together, the life you had that was filled with terror and excitement like nothing else. He missed Peggy, but he longed for you.

Releasing you from his hold, your hands slide into his as you look up at him in disbelief. “You came back?” You question, watching as he chuckles softly to you.

“What made you think I wouldn’t?” Steve questions in response, raising an eyebrow.

He watches your face drop, your hands slipping out of his. “I thought Peggy was the love of your life.” You tell him gently, ignoring the strings holding your heart beginning to be cut away. “I, I thought you wouldn’t miss the chance to be with her, start over.” You explain, having envisioned everything so clearly.

Steve slowly shakes his head. “I did love Peggy, but I realised there was more for me waiting back home.” He reaches out to you, but you pull away

“But, I don’t understand, Steve.” You sigh. “I, I don’t know what I want in life. I don’t know if I want kids, a family a, a life like that.” You ramble, unsure of your words as you fear Steve has left everything for you. “Please don’t tell me you gave everything up for me.” You plead, watching as Steve lowers his gaze to the ground.

“I didn’t give anything up, Y/n.” He speaks slowly, trying to find the right words to use. “I came back for myself, to see what I can have in this life with you. I’m not telling you to change your path to fit mine, all I’m saying is that, that I love you.”

You lift your head up, turning back to face Steve. “You love me?” You whisper, not believing the words that left his lips.

“I’ve loved you since 2014. After I nearly saw you die at the hands of the winter soldier, I knew I couldn’t imagine life without you. When I went back, I saw you in 2012, the battle of New York. You asked me if I was still on for pizza.”

A small laugh escapes your lips, making you smile at the memories of that unanticipated date. “I didn’t know what I was getting myself into clearly.” You joked uneasily, watching Steve step closer toward you.

“Are you glad I’m home?” He questions, something he wondered about when he returned, not seeing you stood where he left you.

You step closer, wrapping your arms around him. “I couldn’t be happier, I was just worried you were giving everything up.” You tell him quietly. “But I guess it means I can tell you that I love you, without trying to guilt-trip you.”

“Come on, just kiss already!” You hear Sam yell from beside Bucky who simply rolls his eyes, silently agreeing with him for once.

Glancing over your shoulder, you flip Sam off. “We’re having a moment Sam, give us a break.” You joke before turning back to Steve. “I’m glad you’re home, Cap.” You rise onto your tiptoes, leaning in close to kiss him softly.

As your lips part, Steve’s he hums in content. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

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hollowisthyname · 3 years

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🖊 Onyx!

I am. so sorry. I have been writing this for over a month at this point I think?? I've got a lot on this character but I'm not good at writing it down, so..... ah. yeah :') hopefully I got enough in this to justify the wait, but either way let's go!!

[as per usual, infodump under the cut]

TW // brief mention of suicide in the paragraph where I explain how they died, mentions of death throughout (ghost character, kinda hard to avoid)

Onyx Hart: ghost, performer, and excessive flirt. they are extremely fun to make up stuff about, especially bc they're one of my only extroverted characters. I have so so many ideas for them and they're one half of the third "cannon" pair of characters ("pair" meaning they have backstory together and I associate them with each other so it's easier just to think of the two of them as their own little group. the other two are Marcel and Sorrel, and Cory and Rhys).

they have black hair that goes down to a little above their shoulders and then flips out (think Kokichi, but slightly less drastic), and the.... sides? of their hair, like the parts that go in front of your ears or something, are much longer than the rest of it, about to the middle of their chest. their skin is v pale bc they're kinda anemic and don't spend much time in the sun, and their eyes are really bright green and reflective like a cat's. they've got freckles across the bridge of their nose and they kinda glow. I don't have all the details of their outfit worked out yet (bc I just changed it a bunch ehehe) but their general style is v punk. ripped denim stuff, chokers, pins, etc. they wear mostly dark colors but with bright accents, it's extremely cool :] the kinds of clothes they wear for performances are..... very different. their color palate for shows is black and gold, and they wear a lot of flowy stuff- silks and whatever makes them look extra cool flying through the air like they do. it's definitely fun to watch, but they're actually pretty hard to get around in. Onyx is not a fan.

so. ah. for all I've thought about this character, I don't actually have a backstory for them fully formed or written out at all. I know some basics- performing has always been a big part of their life, of course, but the reasoning for that varies. they come from a family of acrobats, they ran away and joined the circus, they were recruited by Lavka very young..... so many possibilities. so instead of trying to decide on one now, let's skip to the part I know more about!! enter Lavka, the ringmaster :D

very brief explanation of Lavka: fallen angel/deity, amnesia, still powerful and malicious enough that he decides to create a.... what do I even call it? magic circus thing??? and it traps people or he kills them or something. it's bad but very cool. think of him as like, a siren, but tall and with a lot more eyes.

the thing about a circus is, you need acts. and Onyx is the star of the show. Lavka went around recruiting people to work for him and thought they'd make a good central act. they were great, and the two of them worked together for a while. aaaaand.... that's as far as I've gotten :') I have virtually no concrete story for them, and seeing as the thing that would probably prompt them to leave the circus is meeting another of my characters and I've been avoiding deciding anything for that..... yeah.

it's the same thing for how, exactly, they became a ghost. they died by suicide during a performance, but I don't know when, how, or why. gotta work on that but I'm awful at backstory and I can't always think abt it without triggering myself :') I think my brain lets me create either a personality or a backstory for a character and. not both hgdf

however!! this brings us to their personality, which I somehow completely forgot to do earlier even though I've come up with much more for it than the backstory!!!! I said extrovert and flirt already, but I don't think that encompasses just how good they are at talking to people. hardly anyone could work a crowd the way they do- Lavka and Marcel can both be good with people as well, but they all do it in very different ways. Marcel becomes whoever people want them to. Lavka radiates power and charisma. and Onyx is just impossible to look away from- they're always doing something, and it's always flashy and spectacular and amazing to see. even when they're not performing, there's just something kinda irresistible about them. they're also a very good liar, which- esp when combined with Marcel's ability to completely change how they act at the drop of a hat- has gotten them into some. situations (it's gotten them out of them too, though, so it kinda evens out) Onyx is the kind of person who will push themself past their limits to keep up appearances and please everyone. and once they can't take it anymore, they completely shut down. they'll shut themself off from everything and everyone until they have the energy to go back to acting the way they always do in front of people. usually when this happens they go completely nonverbal, and are very easily overwhelmed. it's a stark contrast from how they usually act, and they only trust a handful of people enough to actually interact with them when they shut down. most of the time around people they're constantly being charming and performance-y, but when they're just with close friends they chill out some. they're still p energetic most of the time, and they love pulling pranks on.... everyone (especially Elis, and Cory's their partner in crime for pranks) but they're not trying to make everyone love them all the time. they have HEAPS of anxiety btw, they might be great with people but that doesn't stop them from worrying that no one likes them. they're very much a people-pleaser and have trouble saying no and setting boundaries, but at the same time they have no problem with confronting someone they don't like or who hurt anyone they care about. (it seems contradictory but it's not I promise)

and then we have their whole story with Everest. I think I explained this before but I'm not sure and you've probably forgotten by now, so basically: I came up with an Onyx-centric "au" where Onyx is one of two humans from a human world to get transported into a magical one. and from that came Everest, complete opposite to Onyx and their best friend. Everest is also mostly not included in my main story bc he's my newest character and I don't have as much about him, but he's cool and I love their whole opposites-attract dynamic. I really don't have any more backstory for this version than I do for the main one, and I'm kinda wavering between the two of them running away and getting transported together, or them not knowing each other before getting sent to the magic world but ending up in the same place and becoming friends. anyway that whole thing is kinda confusing but v fun!!

now it's time for a list of facts that don't need whole paragraphs!!

- Onyx knows sign language p well bc of going nonverbal a lot (they all have to so they can talk w Rhys effectively, this is my explanation for them lmao) - they really want to perform with Elis (they have wings, great for acrobatics stuff) but Elis absolutely hates the idea - I originally came up with them for a. wattpad applyfic. absolutely fucking amazing reason I know - they're just transparent enough that it's kinda unnerving but you wouldn't really know why unless you knew what you were looking for - various other species ideas for them are selkie and nine-tailed-fox spirit - Onyx's pronouns are actually they/it and a lot of neopronouns but I usually just use they/them bc I either forget or worry abt being judged (for absolutely no reason lmao)

a moodboard I made for them!! I need to remake it bc I figured out how to make them better but I still really like how this one looks :D

#ranger rambles #icarus infodumps #oc infodumps #onyx hart #again i am SO SORRY #i hope you like it though!! they're one of my favorites #i may not be an extrovert but by god are they fun to write #(i do not in fact write)#(like ever)#(but i come up with ideas so close enough asdfgf)

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discoveringenterprise · 3 years

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“RYAN WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GO?!” and other shit you might wonder

First off: I am so sorry for disappearing off of the face of the earth oh my god

Second off: I’m going on an indefinite hiatus as of Sundayish. Yes, you read that right, an indefinite hiatus. All the content on the blog will stay for our enjoyment, and I fully authorize use of my gifs anywhere and everywehre

Third off: if you’re struggling rn, shit gets better, PLEASE trust me on this.

TLDR of this post; I got better, so can you, and I’m heading out.

ENT GC: let me know if you want admin. Do what you want with the blog, and if you wanna make a new group chat, please do so since I won’t be around to add people.

How can I contact you/get your contact info before you go? Dallyn and Daphne have my contact info so if you ever need to reach me and I’m gone... yeah. Like I said, I’ll be heading out Sundayish, so I’ll periodically log in here if you wanna talk to me/get my info before I go.

What’s your actual name? That... that’s a long story, too. LMAO. Especially if you know me. DM me for the story if you know me.

Why are you leaving? So, as you guys know, I started college, which is completely and utterly whack. Everything is changed, everything is different and I have friends now? Like, WTF. I’ve been so wrapped up in work it took me forever to get on here after Dallyn texted me “your account got hacked” so... oops. I let everyone into the ent gc (oh my GOD i look back at that and have a love/hate relationship with it!) and let me know if you figure out a way to make admins on it??? I’m confused AF.

I’m going to be focusing off college and staying off Tumblr for a while. It was 2 am technically today and I was reading all my old posts like “jfc I was so depressed???” and now I’m just... not. I made friends, real friends, over the summer. People who understand and get it (and yes some of them are ent stans.)

Why did you disappear in May and why are you leaving again? Shortly put, and I don’t mean to sound mean, I made real friends. Real as in I will physically interact with them in real life (aka college friends). I kind of weaned off Tumblr slowly, and only kept going back for the ent gc (I LOVE YOU GUYS THOUGH!!!). And it kinda became a drag.

When I came back to Tumblr, it was like late January and early February. I’d just got out of the Instagram rping world and was so tempted to start one here, but I was scared and intimidated, and I’m glad I didn’t. Breaking off rp was the best thing I’d ever done for myself, and the best thing that this toxic girl ever did for me. My shitty mental health had been kinda dependent on this rp, it’s hard to explain, but I was being a jerk and kinda had been since freshman year with projecting my feelings onto my character’s and blurring the lines far too much between me and her. She was (and is!) still hella overpowered, hella perfect, and something that would absolutely never happen in canon.

Honestly, this whole situation was basically the lyrics to the song Clarity ft. Foxes by Zedd. I love that song, go give it a listen.

Point being, I got myself off of that once I realized. The problem had started in January 2017, ran through October 2017, and then took a hiatus until junior year but only started to really manifest itself in February 2019. And honestly, mainly when school started back, in September/October 2019 and lasted until January 4 when she and I had our last fight. (She messaged me again, later- here- and since making that post, we’ve ended things on neutral terms.)

So I came here. Tumblr. I’d been here in 2017 right after the OTHER rp ended, and I think Tumblr became my new outlet then, too. I was a baby in the middle of my freshman year then. And then there I was, coming full circle. As a senior in high school. I read all of my old posts about how I’d never make it, and there I was. I’d made it. The end of HS was in sight.

I straight up vibed through all of May. Now, I was slowly making friends in college already, but it only really took off in April and May, which is when I left. I focused more on those, building those connections. I loved you guys on Tumblr, I still do, but I was definitely going to meet these college friends. And as I pulled my head out of Tumblr, I got a job, an actual paying job , in June- and I was already gone.

As I looked back on my posts last night/this morning I was thinking “oh my GOD what the fuck” because jfc, Tumblr had turned into the place where I vented. And then as I got through the months, I became happier. The pandemic was around, duh, and I didn’t have as much school stressing me out, there wasn’t as much craziness around. I was free, I didn’t have people from high school to deal with, and I got better on my own.

YEAH, I was talking to a college guy. And yeah, that was nice, but it was more of a side thing. He was my friend, and he played me, but I learned to be myself. Learned to love Enterprise wildly and give absolutely no fucks.

And it is oh so nice to give zero fucks. It’s an amazing feeling. I hope everyone gets there someday. And yeah, I’ve had moments where people don’t like me, and moments where I’ve felt down, depressed. That’s not saying life is always perfect 100% of the time.

But what I’m trying to say is: it gets better. And to me, Tumblr was like a crutch. Sometimes you need it to help you stand, but when you think you always need it, and can stand on your own, that’s where the problem is. In May, I became confident enough to let the crutch go. And I’m thankful that I did that.

I still love you guys, everyone reading this post, the people that know me and are going to miss me. It’s not that I hate this website or anything- I just stopped using it as a crutch, you know?

Where can I read this crazy fanfic? DM me, haha. It’s the classic “self-insert but NOT a self-insert” fanfiction originating form a fifth grade idea, reformatted by my depressed fourteen-year-old self. And I wouldn’t change it for the world. Yes, it’s Star Trek.

I also have one for the girl’s relative, too, which IMO is much better. She’s less overpowered, more of a real human being.

So why mention the fanfic and RP? It’s weird; I’ve come full circle. I wanted to be this perfect girl, and then I planned how she’d finish her story (and I’m finishing it. I am, I promise, because she’s a part of me that I wouldn’t trade for anything). As I’ve taken a break from the E/AP-verse (my public nickname for it haha, someone found out here) I’ve realized again, I came full circle.

All I wanted back then was to be happy and I thought a guy would do it. Popularity, a bunch of friends, a “hot body” (btw FUCK BODY SHAMING and you’re all perfect) and all that BS that the media tells you. What really gives you happiness (or at least me)? Confidence. The fact that I know I have friends I can count on here. Yeah, a relationship is nice, but complete yourself before you get into one.

And when I planned my OC’s ending back in February, that’s what she got. She’s married in my head now, to her (and my!) perfect guy, but the important part is that she’s happy, and she’s herself before she got married. Before she got in her relationship.

So, yeah. I think that covers it. In all honesty, if you have more questions, send them to the ask box and I’ll tag them and all this as “ry’s goodbye” and update my nav page. It’s 12:39 AM so please excuse any typos!

Bye, guys. For now, at least.

I love you.

#ry's goodbye

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morgana-ren · 4 years

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Hell and You XI

Summary: After being abducted but somehow escaping a horrible fate, your life has been turned sideways. It's been months now and you're still trying to recover and cope with the traumatic events that occurred in that dark basement. Your friend and roommate, determined to get you back into the groove of things, convinces you to come out for a night on the town despite your better judgement. What's the worst that could happen? After all, it's been months, and Strade is long since through with you, right?

Rating: HA HA HA holy shit look if anything bothers you, just don’t. Stay far the fuck away. R+.

AO3 Mirror if you prefer to read it there

You heard it right, folks. Chapter 11 is finally up and ready for business on a newly re-edited version of Hell and You, my dumpsterfire of a magnum opus. Gods I need to reevaluate my fucking priorities lmao

“Wake up, little one!”

An involuntary grunt pushed itself out of my throat, voicing my reluctance to oblige the command. It took me a full moment to drag my heavy eyelids open, only to be greeted with Strade’s predatory grin beaming down at me. The foggy veil of sleep lifted from my brain and reality hit me like a fucking truck. I realized exactly where I was and what was happening. My groan turned into a long, drawn out whine and I did my best to turn from him, only to quickly be reminded of the shackles around my wrists with a sear of pain as they grated my skin. The renewed need to get away from him was tearing me apart, inside and out.

“Come now, liebling! You’ve been asleep for hours now. It’s far past the afternoon!” He placed a large hand on my ribs and shook, digging his fingers in a little too deeply to be comfortable.

I hissed, shaking him off. I tried to remember even falling asleep, feeling violated by his presence, both conscious and not. “What time is it?”

“Almost three now.”

I almost jerked up, held back only by the stinging pain in my wrists again and a warning flare from my sore shoulders. “What day is it? How long was I out?”

A condescending smirk slowly made its way across his face. “It’s still Sunday, häschen. Why? Expecting something?”

A slow, deep crevice carved down into my stomach. Acid crawled up my throat, and I resisted the urge to hurl.

“What do you want, Strade?” I closed my eyes, if only so I didn’t have to look at him. I wanted to tear those golden eyes out with my bare fucking hands.

“It’s been a while since you’ve eaten.” He pulled something from his pocket and thrust it into my face. I forced myself to look at it, only to be greeted with a broken, crumpled energy bar held between his meaty fingers. “You should eat. Keep your energy up.” He twisted it around, shaking it slightly as if to entice me.

Between the smell of stale grain, the raisins that were dangerously close to fermenting, and his horrid, wolfish smile, something inside me broke.

Despite the obvious danger I was in, I almost choked on my own spit laughing. It bubbled up from deep in my chest, breaking through a barricade of self-preservation and sanity. The overwhelming need to be petty overrode my better judgement. “Is that the only thing you ever eat?”

He stared at me blankly, a sliver of curiosity breaking through his stoic façade. My anger boiled over, and I cackled even louder, tears brimming in the corners of my eyes.

“Holy shit. I knew you were pathetic, but this really takes the cake.” The words came out like vomit. I knew this would be a big mistake, but I couldn’t stop myself. I needed to spew some of his own bile back at him. I closed my eyes again to keep the tears from falling.

“You technically have an entire house, including a fully stocked kitchen, and you still choose to live off those cheap fucking energy bars.” I began digging my nails into my palm to ease the mania, trying to bring myself back down to reality, but it just kept coming. “You have no idea how to even take care of yourself, do you? Too busy taking people apart and reenacting your bullshit slasher fantasy to learn how to take care of yourself even on a base level?”

I opened my eyes briefly, enough to see him scowl, face darkening as he narrowed his eyes on me.

I stopped laughing.

“Such a sweet girl,” He bared his canines at me as one of his hands shot down, grabbing my jaw and yanking it towards him, pulling my face far enough to tug on my restraints and forcing a small cry from me. “Offering to make me food. Is that what I heard?”

“Mhmm!” I nodded fervently. “Okay, okay, let go!” His fingertips were digging into my already sore jaw, pushing my cheeks and lips into a pucker.

“What was that?” He leaned in, cocking his head, clenching his hand even more. “One more time?”

“Please!” It wasn’t so much a sentence as it was a mushy worded plea. “Strade, please stop!”

He pulled his hand away but kept his face close. I could already feel his handprints bruising into my flesh. He stroked my hairline as I moved my jaw back and forth, trying to ease the ache. “Kind of you to offer.” Reaching behind him, he pulled his knife. “Now be a good little pet and don’t move.”

One of his hands slipped the blade just under my chin, and the other went to unlock my handcuffs. I thought about rushing him as I felt one of my hands fall free, at least until his knife dug into my chin hard enough that I felt a small drop of blood dribble down my throat. He looked down at me almost knowingly as he immediately grabbed my other free hand and slapped the constraint back on, only in front this time.

Motherfucker.

He pulled himself up from the bed, yanking me up by the chain of my binds as well. I opened my mouth in a wordless cry, letting him drag me upwards by my raw wrists from the mattress. One of them began bleeding anew, letting small crimson drops fall onto the carpet as he led me out the door and down the hallway, jerking me along by the small amount of slack he allowed. This carpet is so beyond ruined.

When we reached the kitchen, I was breathing deeply and clenching my fingers. My wrists were raw and bleeding, my arms aching and shoulders barely able to move. Either oblivious or uncaring to my pain, he shoved me towards a counter, letting me catch myself against the harsh granite with my forearms.

I rubbed at my joints, trying to scrape off some of the dried blood as he lumbered over by the fridge, stopping halfway as he spied my knife block. He looked at it for a few seconds before he picked up in his hands, turning and smirking at me as he placed it on top of the fridge and pushed it back where I couldn’t reach, doing the same with our silverware drawer and anything he deemed a threat to his personhood.

“Oh, fuck you, you fucking prick.” I spat, coaxing a small giggle from him.

“If you want me to reach anything for you, you just have to ask me nicely.” He reached over and ruffled my hair.

“Strade, will you please hand me that big ass knife?”

He pursed his lips and gave me an annoyed look. “Cute.”

“Okay, genius, you go ahead and tell me how I’m going to cook anything without any silverware.”

He looked to the side for a few seconds as he pondered it, chewing on his lip. He looked around again briefly before turning and stalking back over to the fridge. He yanked it open, pulling out a carton of eggs and throwing them on the counter. He then proceeded open and slam a few drawers before pulling out a spatula and holding it towards me.

“Eggs sound nice, don’t they? And I don’t think you could do much damage with this.”

I yanked it from his hand, lip twitching. “You want to test that theory?”

“Oh, süße. Don’t bring a spatula to a knife fight.” He grinned, palming his blade.

“One of these times, I’m going to get that thing away from you, and I’m going to dig it into your fucking eye socket.”

He gave me a coy look, running his tongue over his teeth and biting his lip subtly. “I was planning on just eating a little food but talking like that makes me think you have something else in mind.” He went to reach for me again, and I jerked out of his range, holding my hands up defensively.

“I’ll make the damn food, just don’t touch me.”

He kept the predatory smile on his face, leering nearby. “Playing hard to get, hmm?” He pulled his knife out, tapping it playfully on his lower lip. “That’s fine, for now. But you might want to hurry. I am hungry, but I’m also feeling a little... under stimulated.”

I backed away from him, showing him that fear I’d tried so hard to keep down. I had to draw this out as long as I could. I just had to hold him off until someone came home. I knew what under stimulated meant for Strade, and I knew what that meant for me.

Pain. Lots of it.

Something about the way my hands were shaking or maybe my terrified expression must have excited him. His face blossomed into a deep shade of red, and he ran his tongue along his teeth. “Keep looking at me like that and I might not be able to resist.”

I swallowed down hard, turning from him as quickly as I could. Shakily, I looked around in the upper cabinets for a bowl I could crack the eggs in, which was much harder than I’d like to admit in handcuffs. The rest of my efforts went to pretending I couldn’t feel his horrid stare on my backside. “Is scrambled okay?”

He made a small humming noise which I took as acceptance. He had taken to leaning against the opposite cabinet nonchalantly, using his knife to clean out underneath his fingernails. I started cracking the eggs in the bowl, trying to focus on the cooking instead of him.

I wasn’t sure how many he’d want, so I just used as many as we had left. I used the spatula as best as I could to beat the eggs into a yellow slurry before reaching down and pulling a small pan out from underneath the oven and putting it on the stove. Something so simple seemed so terrifying with the knowledge that Strade was so close.

It did occur to me that I might be able to use the pan to fend him off, but frankly between the stunted movement of my arms and his overbearing form, I decided against it. He’d probably just take the pan and knock me clean over the head with it. If I was going to play the attack card, I needed the advantage.

I noticed he was being uncharacteristically quiet, which was exceptionally unnerving. I didn’t know where his mind was wandering, but whatever it was, I had to put a stop to it. If I could steer his mind somewhere that didn’t involve more of my blood, I had to do it.

“The um...” I paused briefly, not entirely sure what I wanted to say. As I poured the eggs into the pan, I noticed out of the corner of my eye, he was staring pretty intently at me, waiting for me to speak. “The cut on your chest is pretty nasty. You should probably clean it.”

I turned over my shoulder and looked at him. He had a surprised look on his face, eyebrows raised and slow blinking. He stared at me for a few moments before looking down, prodding at the shreds of his black undershirt and across the deep, marred flesh that crossed his chest courtesy of me. He rubbed his fingertips together, trying to dust off some of the dried blood that wiped on his fingers. It looked like he had managed to patch up his arm but didn’t have time to get to his chest before I woke up.

“I suppose you’re right, Schatz.”

I was moving the egg batter around in the pan but stiffened when I noticed Strade approach the sink beside me. He chucked his knife aside, turning the faucet on and digging his fingers underneath his tank top. He yanked it over his head, chucking the discarded clothing in the sink under the running water.

He was completely shirtless now, and I tried to recall if I’d ever seen him quite this naked before. It was odd to say the least since we had technically slept together (if you could call it that) but there was something too familiar, too personal about seeing him do something like this. I don’t think I’d ever seen so much of his skin, let alone his bare chest. Then again, we didn’t have the most normal relationship.

It was strange. His stomach was dusted with tufts of hair, particularly on his upper chest and then kicking back up again near his happy trail where it thickened again. Considering his heritage, that didn’t surprise me, but what did strike me is how tan he was. I guess I hadn’t really noticed it before, with the torture and all. While he was definitely a bigger guy, he was also fairly built, large muscles tucked away under the layer of chub on his tummy and arms. All things considered, he would have been a very handsome man, were it not for his dirty little secret.

His golden eyes peered intently downward, lip gently clenched between his teeth in concentration as he palmed water in his hands and washed over the crossed, jagged slices on his chest. They looked painful, but it didn’t seem to faze him. He ripped a few paper towels, dabbing the wounds gently and wiping away at the excess blood.

“Your attention is flattering, Hase.” His gaze slowly turned up to mine and a deceptively soft smile curled across his face.

“I wasn’t staring, I just-“ What was I doing, exactly? “That looks bad. I was going to offer you a bandage or something. You might want to wrap it.”

His grin turned patronizing, lowering his eyelids and tilting his head. “We can pretend that’s what you were doing if you want.”

I scowled, turning back to the eggs that were beginning to cook. “I take it that’s a no then.”

“Don’t worry, little one. Of all the nasty little injuries I’ve seen in my days, this one barely holds a candle.” He scoffed, waving his hand around before picking his knife back up off the sink. “You are quite good with this knife though. Knew just how to make it hurt.”

“Good.” I huffed out under my breath.

“See?” Strade chucked the bloody paper towels on the counter and stepped toward me, playing with a lock of my hair in his fingers. “There you go again. You know what that kind of talk does to me.”

I rolled my eyes, making a noise of disgust as I turned my attentions back toward the food. I pretended not to notice that Strade pulled away from me, opting to stand menacingly in my peripheral watching me for a few moments before moving back behind me where I could no longer see him.

That made me anxious. Very, very anxious.

It wasn’t until he pressed himself against me that I began to panic. I could feel him leaning down, his breath on the back of my neck. I almost jumped when I felt his hands on the low of my hips, the metal handle of his knife pressed against my hip bone.

Fuck me.

“You know, you’re precious like this.” His free hand crawled up my stomach, making its way to my ear where he pushed the stray strands of hair back behind it. I had to swallow down the bile when I felt his upper body fall against my back, his mouth right in my ear. “Cooking me breakfast. Worrying about me. My little domestic hausfrau.” He let his arm wander down and rest on my shoulder, curling around my neck slightly. “A man could get used to that.”

“Could a man get used to having his head smashed repeatedly with the heaviest object his ‘frau’ can find? Because that’s what you’re going to get.” I hissed through my teeth, scraping the forming egg clumps from the bottom of the pan.

Another dark laugh bubbled up from deep in his chest. His grip on my neck tightened uncomfortably, and he allowed his full body weight to push into me, trapping me between him and the hot stove. The thing that made me almost swallow my tongue, however, was the unmistakable hardness I felt from his pelvic region pushing against my lower back.

“I can think of several better uses for your mouth rather than sassing me.” The hand with the knife slowly crawled upward, trailing the edge up my stomach and neck, pushing only hard enough to sting slightly. When he reached my face, he turned the blade, pressing the flat bit against my cheek.

“Strade-“ I started, the gravity of the situation setting in. Very hot stove in front. Very dangerous stab-happy man in back. This had to be the world’s worst threesome.

“Let’s play a little game, Hase.” He pulled the knife from my face, opting to grab my hand that was holding the pan straight instead, clenching his fist against my knuckles. “Put your hand on the stove.”

“What? No!” I almost tried to buck him off, but he dug the blade into my joints, letting a small stream of blood drip down onto the ceramic. I whined in pain, looking over at him pleadingly.

His maniacal smile was back, and he bumped my backside with his hips, sending my upper body lurching forward as my legs collided with the oven. “I wasn’t asking.”

“Strade, please, I need that hand to cook your food with! I can’t cook for you if my hand is burnt to shit!”

He gave me a faux look of disappointment, wrapping his fingers harshly around my hand before slamming it down in the middle of the stove; thankfully away from a heating plate. “I thought we were becoming so close. You know I like to give you a choice in these things. You might not even get hurt at all.”

The literal pain in my neck from his romantic idea of fellatio said otherwise.

Whatever it was he wanted, I knew it was pointless to fight. He was getting excited, breathing heavy and beginning to sweat heavily from his chest and neck. I could feel his front beginning to stick to my back from his overexcitement. I just needed to get it over with quickly. I could take it. Just handle him until they got home.

“O-okay. I’ll play.”

“Nettes Mädchen.” His grip loosened on my neck, clawing down and making a point to grab and knead my breast before moving down and playing with the band of my shorts. “I want you to beg.”

I was taken back a little bit. Begging, in the grand scheme of things, was easy. If he wanted me to beg, sure.

“Strade, please.”

He laughed, nipping at my neck. The hand on my lower body started teasing down the elastic, slipping down to my private areas. I squirmed, feeling his hands dip low, violating me.

“Eager, hmm?” One of his feet harshly kicked my legs further apart, rubbing his groin on the back of my shorts. Two of his fingers found their way between my folds, stroking gently. “Good.”

I sucked in a breath. His calloused fingers, as much as I hated it, felt good. At least until I felt a sharp pain in my hand and yelped, seeing him dig the knife far enough into my hand to make it bleed. A small bit of blood coated his blade before he pulled away, reaching down to the front of the stove and switching on one of the burners. The one directly adjacent to my hand.

He began rubbing me gently in small, controlled circles. I maneuvered the spatula around, if only to maintain a small amount of control as he manhandled me. I closed my eyes as he loosened his grip, holding back a sigh of relief.

His bloody knife tangled slightly in my hair as he brought his hand up and stroked my head. An uncharacteristically gentle act. “I want you to scream.”

As quickly as his gentleness came, it left. He yanked my hair, forcing my head back, letting the tip of the blade run along my scalp. “I like when you scream for me. Scream for my hands, or the knife, or even the burn. But you will scream. And you can even choose!” He sounded giddy for a moment until his voice darkened. “Or I will.”

I didn’t need to see his face to know the look on it. The same one he gave me when he pulled out the knife the first time. The same one he got in the alley way. Pink and flushed and needy. Enthusiastic. Excited in anticipation of what was to come. Or who.

“You’ll come undone by your hands,” he picked my hand up and held it by the burner, reveling in my uncomfortable worming for a moment before returning it back to its original position. “Or mine.” His fingertips stopped rubbing me, finding its place at my opening.

“Understand?” He leaned his head down by mine, pulling on the strands of my hair tangled in his fingers.

I swallowed, trying to think about the situation. There wasn’t an answer but yes. Strade did not take ‘no’ for answer. Even if I entertained the notion, he’d either cut me or burn me anyway. There was a part of me that felt him beneath my bottoms too, understanding that just letting go and giving over to him might be the best option.

For my pride? No. For my well-being and continued breathing? Absolutely.

I nodded, swallowing down hard and trying to finish the food in front of me. I can do this. I’ve survived Strade before. I can do this.

“Let’s play then.” He whispered in my ear, slowly pushing a thick finger inside me. I couldn’t help but gasp as he worked his way in, keeping his thumb padding against my sensitive nerves. I hadn’t been with anyone, not since the last time with him, and it’s like I had somehow been expecting him. My fear only served to heighten the sensations he gifted me.

I could feel the heat of the stove against my free hand, understanding the consequences if I disappointed him, but his actions were already making my knees weak. I couldn’t help but grind into his hand, trying to push him deeper, work him further against me.

I felt him smile into my hair, adding in a second finger. A moan left my lips as he nudged it inside as well, curling his fingers slightly as my body yielded to him. I tried to mix the eggs again, seeing the slight burned brown beginning to appear on the bottom, but I couldn’t focus as his fingers began thrusting harder, his thumb actively circling my clit.

I let my head fall against his shoulder, breathing heavy as his finger fucked into me. At least until I felt my alternate hand maneuvered close enough to the burning stove to panic me. The heat wasn’t quite so intense as to hurt, just enough to for me to feel waves rolling off the burning metal and onto my hand. Squealing, I tried to rip my hand away, only for Strade to hold it down in a cruel grip, never stopping his ministrations.

“You like it, don’t you?” He giggled, curling his fingers further and dragging them against my walls, coaxing a loud noise from me. I was acutely aware of the danger I was in, but it didn’t stop me from thrusting my lower body against him, trying to give him deeper access. I exhaled, letting my head drop and allowing him to do to me what he wanted. He obliged me, pressing his thumb deeper and oscillating his fingers, rubbing his growing erection against the thin layer of fabric that was my shorts.

I bit my lip, refusing to answer him. If I had to cum for him, fine, I guess, but there was no way in hell I was going to admit that I actually enjoyed it. He continued regardless, pushing his fingers deeper inside me until I could feel the dripping wetness leaking between my thighs and onto his palm.

“See? You don’t have to say anything. You tell me everything I need to know.” He licked across the clotted wound on my neck, delighting in the response he had elicited from me.

“I-it’s a fucking-“ I breathed out, trying to keep my voice even. “Uncontrolled r-response. It doesn’t mean I want this.”

Wow. Even I didn’t believe me. I might as well have said ‘Fuck me Strade, fuck me now.’

“Whatever you have to tell yourself. You can’t lie to me. I know you.” He removed his other hand from my wrist, releasing me from the precarious situation my hand was in near the burner, opting to reach back up to my breast instead. He yanked my top down, rolling and harshly tugging my nipple between his fingers. Liquid fire shot straight between my legs, and a loud mewl escaped my throat as I bucked into him.

He chuckled, groping and kneading as he continued pumping his hand. I could smell the eggs burning, and I knew somewhere in my mind that I needed to stir it, but I couldn’t bring myself to move, too busy laxing into him and losing myself in his touch.

“Move your hand closer.” He muttered, trying to give the strain in his pants some relief against my thigh.

“Mmm?” I stuttered out, eyes closed and mouth slightly agape. Fuck it felt good it felt really really good and-

“Näher!” He seethed, bumping my arm with his body until I lurched into the stove again. My hand. He wanted me to move my hand.

Shakily, I moved my hand even closer to the rim. The heat was intense now and leaving it here for too long would dry my skin into complete rawness, slowly weakening and cracking the skin. A slow burn. Seems fitting. It was beginning to hurt, but the sensation wasn’t nearly as overwhelming as his fingers invading me.

“You’re getting close.” He huffed, practically dry humping me into the stove.

“I can see that.” I mumbled, glancing down at my hand through heavily eyelids.

“Not what I meant.” He began maneuvering quicker, and I threw my head back on his shoulder, whimpering pathetically. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to plead for him, urge him to go harder, faster, cry his name and cling on to him.

“J-Jesus fuck-“

My cursing only spurred him forward, thrusting me very rapidly into oncoming orgasm. I could hear my breaths getting more and more high pitched, abandoning the eggs and clenching both my hands on the warm porcelain as I threw myself forward. I was on the peak, about to go off the edge, just a little more, fuck just a little more fuck fuck fuck!

That’s when I heard it. The sound of the front door opening.

#Strade #Strade BTD #strade x reader #boyfriend to death #btd #hhhman tumblr fucks all the italics and shit #so you'll have to go to ao3 if you technically want the full experience #I edited this i swear

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