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fullfiresiren · 3 years

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beauty of the dawn

jujutsu kaisen

fushiguro toji x reader

The notion of a loving family was something foreign to Fushiguro Toji. Family, to him, was a bitter word -- full of hate and abhorrence. Abandonment and fear were a commonality in his own childhood. But in you, he finds a warmth he didn’t think he deserved – a home he craved, a love that makes him feel safe; full of gentle touches and soft kisses. But he’s scared. He's broken, and angry, and he knows the threat of his family is always lurking close, snapping at his heels, ready to devour. You bring the notion of family to his doorstep, and he spooks. He panics. He can’t let them find you, he can’t and he has to give up the only feeling of warmth he has ever known to do so.

It haunts him forever – leaving behind the only woman he ever loved, and a child he will never know.

word count: 3.8k.

notes: *inhales* ANGST— lmao but really, I live for it. Toji may be a bad person, but I suck dick, not morals, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ bro I fr don’t even know what came over me. This has been like the smallest headcannon for me and somehow it turned into this horribly sad piece, and although Toji is a dick, I also think he is an incredibly complex character that, at the end of it all, was just a desperate father trying to look out for his child. I think he deserves much more than he got, and he kinda gets shat on in this fic lmao I'm so fuCKING SORRY FOR THAT--

warnings: nsfw/18+, angst, hurt no comfort, abandonment, unplanned pregnancy, pregnant reader

“Take me,” he prays, panting secrets that fall from his lips onto your soft skin; promises of pleasure as he breeds you deep. “Take all of me.”

And you do – over, and over, and over again.

Hilting him to the deepest part of yourself, and holding him close, so close, his breath a hot ghost across your face as he leans his forehead against yours. You keep him there until he is finished, taking his seed like it was sacrament. He gives you everything he has to offer, and only when you have slipped into a light slumber does he pull away.

He never strays far, though, and he cannot stay away for long. You are like sweet honey and warm sunsets; the breathing embodiment of a life he was never before privy to – the promise of something better; a miracle. Far from the cold depravity and sharp pain of his own family, in you, he found only warm touches, and words of tender affection. Toji feels so overwhelmed by the amount of love he has for you, that sometimes it’s unbearable. He feels so happy he could die.

He is not an honest man, by any means. He kills for a vocation -- and enjoys it, too. It’s something he’s good at. It’s an easy way to make money, and it helps him pay for his half of the rent on the meagre apartment you share. It also lets him keep the fridge full, make sure you’re always warm, and that you’re never without. He doesn’t really care about himself or what he has to do – so long as you’re happy.

The weight of his body is always heavy between your thighs, his chest solid, thrusts slow and deep, stretching you, making a perfect fit for himself inside you. He likes drawing it out – each time he takes you. He enjoys seeing you beg for release, relishes the way your tears slide down your flushed cheeks, because he likes being the one to kiss them away, knowing he is the only one who ever makes you feel this good. His name sounds so perfect when it falls from your lips at your height of ecstasy, and the way you take him in has him swearing he can see heaven.

You see a side of him that no one else does, but he’s dark, he’s toxic. The amount of sadness in his soul is challenged only by the sheer force of his anger. He's sure that he wasn’t always like this, but... he can’t really remember a time when he wasn’t. Everyone and everything was his enemy. He’s never really told you much about his family, or his past. His childhood had been dark, you assumed, based on the way he flinched around children, and steered clear of any conversational topics that included them or parental figures.

Toji Fushiguro was untouchable to everyone, and only just tangible to you.

He wants to be able to give you everything. He wants to lay his head on your chest in the depths of the night when he’s feeling lost, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to come home every night, no matter what happens to him throughout the day, and be able to feel the brush of your soft lips; to taste your tongue with his – god – he wants to. But he’s afraid. He’s scared. If he gives you everything... if he shows you who he really is... what happens if you see something you don’t like? Will you pull away from him? Will you cast him out and abandon him – just like his family did? Toji isn’t feeble by any sense of the word, but he thinks that would be the one thing that would break him.

That’s why he’s only let you see glimpses... and only every now and then.

He’s just so miserable when he’s alone. He’s angry at the world, and you’re the only thing that soothes him. The only thing he has ever loved.

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror when he comes home, locked away in the too-small bathroom. You hear the keys turning in the lock; a signal of his arrival, and the door to your apartment opens, bringing with it sounds of paper bags crinkling, keys being tossed into their bowl, and huffing exhales as he struggles to kick his heavy boots off.

“Toji?”

“I’m home!” he calls, his voice a deep timbre in his chest, smooth like rich oak.

You follow it, leaving the safe space of your bathroom to find him, and when you pass the threshold into your small kitchen, he’s lifting bags of fresh groceries onto what little counter space you have. The movement carries with it droplets from an October rain that had caught him by surprise on his walk home, ones that hang from the edges of his black hair and drip down onto his damp black shirt.

“Toji,” you repeat, beaming as you bound into your small kitchen. “I have wonderful news!”

He spares you a glance between unpacking vegetables, dark eyes tracing the curve of your face, hands grasping at packets of food that need to be tossed in the fridge, and cans to be stacked in the shelves.

“Hmm?”

He offers you his face, leaning in close, pausing in his task to receive a small blessing of affection from you — a soft kiss against the scar on his lip that has his eyelashes fluttering closed, and then one more fully against yours – always greedy for any love you bestow, always chasing just one more, just once more, just another, my love, just one more...

He continues with his chore, but only when you giggle at the fluttering of kisses he peppers across your face, your jaw, suckling at your neck, your hands against his chest pushing him gently, urging him to finish his task – but not before you give him another deep kiss, all giddiness and mirth swimming in your gaze. He can’t help the deep chuckle that spills from his lips at seeing you so happy.

“Toji,” you begin, and he’s rummaging in the paper bags, brows furrowed because he could have sworn that he bought three carrots, and not two -- “I’m pregnant!”

He stills.

He can sense your beaming smile, almost feels the warmth of it on his cold skin, and it only makes him shiver.

The seconds tick by without any form of reaction, and the atmosphere grows horribly tense. Toji doesn’t look at you, but he can see from his peripheral vision that your smile slips at the same time that your shoulders round and you make yourself smaller, unconsciously closing off. You’re twisting something in your hands, suddenly nervous, and he has a nauseating feeling that settles in his gut, because he knows exactly what it is that you’re holding.

It’s proof.

“Are you... happy?” you ask, and you hate that you have to. It’s like a punch in the gut, and you’re afraid. This was not the reaction you were expecting at all.

“Are you sure?” he doesn’t know why he asks that.

He isn’t looking at you, and he isn’t moving – he’s not even blinking. You feel your hands becoming sweaty as you clutch the positive pregnancy test, mouth dry. A quickly increasing panic creeps over your skin, gripping you by the throat, and you honestly have no idea how to traverse this kind of response to your news. In the bathroom you only practiced scenarios in relation to a beaming, positive reaction.

Which room should we make into the baby’s room? Our baby can always sleep with us, though, and I know they’re definitely going to prefer you – I'm hopeless with kids... but I hope they look like you, Toji – a perfect combination of everything I love about you!

Do you want to pick names out? I hope it’s a girl... but a boy would be wonderful, too! I know the baby will adore you, no matter what! Do you have any names you like? We can name them after someone you love? If it’s a boy, I want to make his middle name yours...

Why didn’t you think he was going to show apprehension or reluctance? Why were you so idiotic to assume this is something he desired when he’s never given you any signs of wanting to start a family? He’s probably feeling entirely overwhelmed – and no wonder – you have no tact about this. Fuck, you’re stupid. You fucking idiot. Pathetic, dumb, worthless--

“Y-yes,” you reply, and your voice is a shadow of its former self. “I took three tests. I have one here--”

“How.”

You flinch a little under the curtness of his words.

“W-what—?”

“How did this happen?”

“Uhm...” your voice sounds so frail when you speak, and you can't help it. He’s making you feel like you’ve committed a horrendous sin. You’ve managed to combine the epitome of affection between the two of you into the creation of what will become a child – a perfect mix of the two of you, and yet, you’re beginning to hate yourself for doing so. You didn’t mean to... it was an accident... “We don’t... you know... use protection... and we... have sex... a lot...”

“I thought you were taking the pill.”

You feel like you want to throw up.

His entire body is unnaturally still, and he’s not looked at you once since you’ve told him. You are pretty sure that the can in his right hand is warping under the violent pressure of his grasp, and you wring your hands around the test nervously, the weight of it somehow heavy against your palms.

“I... don’t take the pill...” you remind, and then as an afterthought, you add, “I’m sorry.”

Words you never thought you would say in relation to this. You never though you would have to apologize in this kind of situation. You exhale a shaky breath, and it seems to bring him back to reality. He sets the can down on the countertop with more force than needed, and you try your best to blink back tears as you ask, “You’re... not happy... are you...?”

It’s more of a statement than a question, and it hurts to say – god, it hurts. The words sting when they leave your mouth, like a hard slap against your face, but the ache is not nearly as bad as the way his silence is wounding you. You feel like you’re about to collapse from the amount of pain you have in your heart.

“I need to go somewhere,” is the most he offers you, before he’s turning on his heels and striding past you, leaving the apartment you share.

The noise of the front door slamming shut echoes in your mind long after the sound itself has gone.

He never did come back.

— — — 5 years later — — —

In the end, you were blessed with a baby girl, all chubby with round, rosy cheeks. Dark hair and eyes like her father, but soft and gentle like her mother. She was an almost perfect child. She never cried, and she never fussed, content in just being close to her mother. She listened when you spoke, and learned fast, growing just as quick, and you would die for her. She was your blessing; Akemi – the beauty of a new dawn.

You’re sure that he would have loved her more than life itself, but you try not to spare any thoughts his way anymore.

Toji gambles his life away, blowing through anything he earns as quickly as he makes it, drowning himself night after night in heavy alcohol to dampen his senses until they are nothing more than a faint hum in the back of his brain.

With any luck, those things will kill him long before the guilt does.

He fucks faceless women, drunk beyond sense, and when he finishes, he leaves before they sleep.

“Hate me, (y/n),” he sneers, turning sharply to vomit up onto the wet asphalt, breath a shaky exhale as he stumbles into the cold night, thoughts only on you – only ever on you – unaware that he’s crying. “Hate me. I fucking deserve it.”

His face is smeared with bile and tears, and he is so fucking angry -- so desperately sad, and he cries, and cries. He wants to go home. He just wants to go home. He wants to meet her – his darling daughter – he wants to hold her, and kiss her forehead, and tuck her into bed. Fuck everything that he thought – he would have been a great father, he knows it – and you knew it, too. He’s so lost without you, and he wants to lay his head on your chest in the safety of your bedroom, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to feel the brush of your soft lips again; to taste your tongue with his, moan your name into your parted sigh, make you feel him again.

He screams, but it catches in his throat before he can, and he splits his knuckles open when he sends a furious punch against a brick wall.

He can protect you from a lot of things – but not the power of his family. Not that. He’s just one man, and they’re so many. He has a heavenly restriction, and they are all blessed with both innate and inherited techniques, passed down through eons. He knows what they’ll do if they ever found out about you – about the child, and Toji swears on everything he has, that he won’t let them touch you – or her. Even if he won’t be able to. Even if he’ll never be able to hold his daughter, to thank her for being born, to cradle her against his chest and feel her wrap her small fingers against his – he won’t let the Zen’in have her. He won’t.

But that doesn’t mean that he deprives himself from watching over her – or you. Eyes follow the two of you home from her pre-school, singing nursery rhymes to your hearts content, watching as she orders “up, up, mommy!”, squealing happily when you lift her onto your shoulders. He imagines himself in your place; lifting her to higher heights, hearing her giggle a chorus of happy songs as your hand finds his, lips on his scar as you tell him how much you love him.

But he always keeps his distance, dark baseball cap shielding his features, and leaves before you feel someone following you.

It becomes increasingly hard to keep it at that. He starts pushing the boundaries, testing how close he can get. He knows he shouldn’t -- he has no right to – but when she dropped her stuffed toy one time in the supermarket, and you were oblivious to it, he finds himself bending down to grasp the too-soft toy in his calloused hands, dropping it in your basket when your back is turned, and your brows are furrowed as you regard the price difference between her favorite flavor of juice compared to the off-brand ones.

The thrill of being so close, of doing something, anything fatherly, was like a fix – a short relief from the aching despair and loneliness constantly plaguing him, and he finds himself doing it more and more – always pushing, always testing the waters. He even smiled at her once when she caught him staring, and she sent her own toothy grin back at him. His heart soared.

His daughter’s name was Akemi, and he first heard it when it fell from your lips one warm afternoon. He wants to write her name on his heart – right beside yours.

He wants to give her something – a pretty gift, but he doesn’t know what. He was never good at buying presents, and would only ever bring you flowers, since it seemed like something that could never go wrong, and would always bring a bright smile to your face. Flowers would be strange for a child, though. He twists the dainty silver bracelet between his large fingers, thinking bitterly that this was the same way you held the pregnancy test all those years ago. He didn’t really care how much it cost him. He’s sure that the salesman added unnecessary tax and extras to the price just to give himself more commission, but Toji doesn’t care – he just wanted something pretty to give to his daughter.

When he finally sees her enter the park, small hand tugging yours happily, his mind goes empty, and he can’t stop staring. You are as beautiful as ever, and it’s no wonder his daughter is so ethereal when she has you for a mother.

She is perfect, he thinks -- too good for this life -- and even though it’s the worst thing he has ever done, he is reminded that pulling away from you was the only way to save her from his family. It looks like she escaped the curse of inheriting any of his bloodline's techniques, and what’s more so – it seems like she, too, is oblivious to curses; skipping past them as she chases leaves that skit about the dirt path of the park, her teddy in her arms. Toji dips his head down when she draws near the bench he’s sitting on, the brim of his baseball cap keeps his face hidden, and his sadness known only to himself.

“Excuse me?”

He bristles when her voice floats past his ears, so gentle and sweet.

“Hey, mister,” she pokes his knee with her slim finger, so tiny compared to the size of his body, and he jerks at the contact. “Is this yours?”

She’s holding the bracelet in her small hand, the silver glinting in the morning sun, offering it up to him with large eyes, so close to him. At this distance, he can see the true color of her eyes – exactly like his own – and the small freckles that dot her skin. The longer he stares, the more his chest constricts painfully, tightly – he’s finding it hard to breathe, and he exhales suddenly, sharply snatching it away from her.

The force of the movement causes her to stumble a little, tripping over her feet, and before she knows it, the man who was once sitting before her has entirely caught her in his large arms, scooping her up before the ground has a chance to harm her.

She blinks once... twice... swaddled in his arms, sitting against his broad chest, and Toji frantically looks for you, finding you caught up in talking to another mother, too busy to notice. He knows he would scold you for it if he was still in your life, but when his daughter laughs, he snaps his head back to look at her, forgetting what thoughts he had in his mind at the glinting sound of her happiness.

“Whoa!” she exclaims, “You’re fast! Thanks for catching me!”

He doesn’t know what to say – if he should say anything at all. His plan was to give her the bracelet, telling her that it was a late birthday gift from someone that loves her very much, and walking off before she (or you) has the chance to catch on or respond. But now that he’s inches away from her, holding her close as she peers up at him, he’s lost again. He’s lost, and he can’t breathe. He needs you to steady him, but you aren’t here, and he doesn’t know what to do, what should he do, what should he--?

“Where did you get that scar from?” she asks innocently, her large eyes suddenly trained on the mark beside his lips.

“F-from an accident,” he mumbles, “a long time ago.”

“Oh,” she hums, hands splayed against his broad chest, looking around her, swaying her legs absentmindedly. “Wow, you’re really tall! I can see everything from up here!” she exclaims happily, “My mommy’s not as tall as this, so when I sit on her shoulders, I can’t see nearly as much as I can now!”

“Oh,” he mutters, not really knowing what to say, “is that so?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “Mommy’s not as big as you are either.”

At this, he gives a genuine laugh – a sound he hasn’t heard fall from his lips in a long, long time, looking at her with quiet adoration.

“She’s not as fast as you either,” she continues, “you were super-fast!”

“She’s strong in her own ways, though,” he mutters, offering her a soft smile.

“Do you know my mommy?”

He bristles, actively avoiding her gaze. His heart is racing from this much interaction with his daughter, and he’s sure she can feel it under her small palm. It beats for her – if only she knew, and Toji contemplates, for the briefest of seconds, just telling her. The thought leaves his mind as soon as it enters. He doesn’t have that choice, and he doesn’t deserve it.

“Not really,” he mutters, dipping down slowly to set her footing on solid ground once more.

“She’s really pretty,” the little girl continues, playing with the soft fabric of his t-shirt in a small moment of fondness and familiarity, “and nice – and she makes great food!”

Toji realises only after the fact that his hand had settled on top of her head, and he’s stroking her hair softly, thumb caressing her cheek when he moves to cup her face. She doesn’t seem to mind at all, and Toji is overwhelmed with a plethora of emotions. Pride in you for doing all this by yourself and raising such a wonderful child, shame for abandoning you and his daughter, mirth, anger, warmth, sadness, love--

“Akemi!” you call, seeing her lift her head at the sound of your voice. “This way, honey!”

“Oh, I have to go now! My mommy is calling me!” she perks up, gripping her teddy a little tighter and offering the man a smile. “Bye-bye!”

“W-wait!” he calls, thrusting the gift into her small hands. “This is for you, uh... f-from me...”

She looks down at it, before her whole face lights up, and Toji is suddenly breathless – she looks so much like you when she’s surprised, happiness blossoming over her face the same way it would on yours.

Toji feels a deep-rooted emptiness inside his body when he watches his daughter retreat away from him; a living embodiment of all his failures to you, and yet, as he sees her long, black hair whip out behind her, he realizes something else — she was your promise delivered; a combination of everything good between the two of you, in itself a miracle. He might not be in her life, but he was also partly responsible for creating something so beautiful, so ethereal.

He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but if he was ever fortunate enough to be granted a second, it would be a miracle; a holy gift.

A blessing that would accompany the beauty of dawn.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #toji x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji x you #angst #pregnant!reader #abandonment #dilf toji

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h2bakugou · 3 years

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summary: bakugou despises you, more than he does anyone else. you’re strong, and you don’t take shit from anyone. so when bakugou confronts you, it’s more than just a heated argument that ensues.

you can read the original piece here!

all characters aged 18+ au!!

a/n: a rewrite of a classic, one of the first ever fics written here on h2bakugou, hope you loves enjoy this!

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, smut

word count: 2.7k

nsfw under the cut!!!

»»————-　★　————-««

Being discouraged was never an option. Your goal to be a hero had been driven by your perseverance. Your classmates chose the words ‘driven’ and ‘passionate’ to describe you in your first year year-book.

Growing up, you’d been influenced by the words of others, and you vowed to not let them discourage you any longer. You wanted to be a hero, so you’d use their criticism and challenges to better yourself.

Yet, now as a third year, you were still facing challenges. One blonde, explosive, challenge named Katsuki Bakugou that had despised you the day you bucked up to him.

He hated you. Truthfully, he didn’t understand why. You were just so, aggravating. Though in reality, he saw a bit of himself in you. That fire that raged inside driving you further, he knew what that was like.

You weren’t afraid of him. You tested him every day. From ranking higher than him in tests, to beating his ass in training, god you were wiping the floor with him since you were a measly little first year still trying to learn everyone’s names.

On your side of the spectrum, you had to give credit where credit was due. Katsuki was an extremely talented, and attractive individual. He excelled in his classes, got outstanding grades, and had immense power.

But those things didn’t make up for his atrocious attitude, cocky and arrogant demeanor, and brash exterior.

You were closed off, and had boundaries-something Bakugou didn’t understand. Why you were so closed off was a mystery, something Bakugou wanted to desperately understand. A part of him was curious to see what was hiding behind your own brash exterior.

He watched the way you bit the inside of your cheek when he called you out during a slip up in training.

But what made him far more angrier than when you ignored him, was when you got along with Todoroki.

You always seemed to be smiling around the guy, asking how he’d been over the weekend, despite living in dorms together.

Brushing up on him, rustling his hair, it made his blood boil. What did you see in him?

Today was dragging along like any other, your class stood fixed in the gym, working on some new training regiment put together by your third year Heroics teacher.

It was something similar to the ones you’d done hundreds of times by now, but you’d slipped up, a few times. You were tired, you’d barely gotten any sleep last night because classes finished late and left you to do your homework and shower on top of other things you had to do which landed you in bed at almost three or four in the morning.

So your slip up was something small, but Bakugou noticed. And he was about to make it known.

“You’re slacking today! A slip-up like that coulda getcha’ killed, maybe you should practice some more.” Bakugou chastised, smirking at you. As the buzzing fluorescent lights gleamed over your eyes, he could see so much more than anger bubbling inside them.

He now noticed the heavy undereye bags, and the way your eyes seemed to water. But as he stared into your eyes, he realized this was the first time this week you’d actually looking him in the eye when he said something to you.

You weren’t perfect, you still had moments of doubt, late at night when you thought about what might happen if they were right. What if you weren’t meant to be a hero?

Shaking it out of your head, you didn’t say anything. You focused back on your training, but it didn’t go unnoticed by Todoroki. He shot Bakugou a glare which only caused him to grumble and speak again.

“Get your head outta’ your ass, I’m not pining after your little girlfriend. She’s clearly been putting her mind elsewhere if she’s this fuckin’ terrible today.”

Despite initiating the joke, hearing himself call you Todoroki’s girlfriend made him seethe with anger. He was furious. Why’d he say that?

“Shut up.” Todoroki replied cooly, following you out of the gym to the locker rooms.

You just laughed to yourself before you got water. Todoroki let out a stressed sigh as he stared at you.

“He’s being extra rude today.” Todoroki mentioned.

“Maybe he’s just horny.” You grimaced thinking about Bakugou and the words ‘being horny.’

“How would that tie into his anger toward you?”

“Sexual. Frustration.”

Bakugou couldn't take much more of you ignoring him. Why were you so dead-set on making him seem invisible? You barely bit back at him when he called you out, and he knew you could say whatever you wanted, you’d done it to others who tried you. So what made him any different?

This was just one of those occurrences, and as he ran them through his head, every time he checked, there was always some case of you ignoring him when all he wanted was a stupid fucking acknowledgement from you. He was going to talk to you.

And he was going to do it now.

You’d finally left the gym, taken a shower, and you were now steadily approaching your dorm. You were tired, and ready to speed through any homework you might have so you could head to bed early.

But a pair of strong hands forced your shoulders into the wall.

“What’s your fuckin’ deal?” Bakugou growled at you. You just stared at him.

“What?” You answered softly, unsure of what he was accusing you of.

“You think you’re so much better than me, than everyone else huh? Walkin’ around like you fuckin’ own the place? What makes you that fucking good!?” Bakugou spat at you.

His fingers dug into your shoulder blades as he urged you to answer his question. You shoved him off of you and managed to escape his attempts at grabbing your wrists.

“I don’t. You fucking act like you own the place, like being powerful is all it takes to be number one. You might wanna take your head outta’ your ass before your hair turns brown.” You marched off to your room, fed up with Katsuki’s behavior.

“Oh yeah!? Then why do you act like such a fuckin’ ass to me!?” Bakugou shouts, running after you.

“Because you treat me like shit! You call me weak when I slip up, you’re always on my fucking case. You think I really wanna be your friend?” You stop and stare at him.

“Or maybe it’s just because you’re a stubborn asshole that’s too blinded by his idea of being number one that he’s so fucking distracted by his arrogance to see that he’s really just a douche.”

Your back hit your dorm door. Bakugou towered over you as his shadow cast down upon you.

“You need to watch your fucking mouth.”

“Or maybe you need an attitude adjustment. Everyone’s grown so much but you still seem to think you’re hot shit, huh?” You reach for your doorknob, going to twist it, but you were to slow.

“I said...” Bakugou’s eyes bore into you.

“You need to watch your fucking mouth.” Bakugou opened your door, watching as you fell back, no longer supported by the wood of your door.

“Make me.” You grunted, catching yourself from falling onto the floor.

Bakugou’s eye twitched as he followed you into your room, closing and locking the door behind himself.

“Hey, what the fuck are you-”

“You’re such a bitch, just shut up already.” Bakugou groaned, yanking you further back into your room.

It all was beginning to make sense. Bakugou wanted to-

“This isn’t going to change how I think of you.” You blurted out, knowing exactly what the blonde wanted. He stared at you with a smirk.

“Put that pretty mouth to something useful unlike talking.” Bakugou began to undo his pants, allowing them to pool around his ankles.

“You really want me to suck your cock? I don’t know, what if I bite?” You grin, watching as he angered above you.

“What the fuck did I just say?” A handful of your hair was yanked in his fist, tilting your head back.

“A-alright.” You replied. Your cunt throbbed, forcing you to squeeze your thighs together. Why were you so turned on? You didn’t exactly like Bakugou, but he was attractive. You’d give him that, but his looks didn’t make up for his horrendous attitude.

His cock stared at you, hard, tip leaking precum. You graced a single hand over the base, jerking him slowly as you leaned your head toward it. You placed a teasing kiss to the head, smearing his precum around your lips like a lipgloss.

Allowing just the head to slide into your mouth, you stared up at him, watching him fumble with his hands.

“First time?” You pulled off to tease him which resulted in his cock slamming past your lips and hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes shot open wide as your throat burned, his cock rutting down inside your mouth.

It hurt, but it felt good at the same time.

“You really are a slut, huh. Bet you let guys use this little throat like it’s nothing.” Bakugou spat at you. You wished you could’ve said something back to him, but his cock ramming down your throat was sadly stopping you.

You could hear his whines as he grew close to cumming, but he didn’t want to waste his spend inside your mouth, so he pulled out, hissing as you licked his sensitive cock head a few times as he left your lips.

“I wanna taste you.” You murmured, reaching your hand back up to his cock, ushering him to cum in your mouth.

“H-hey!” Bakugou grunted as your mouth reconnected to his cock. It was too late for him, you were blowing him like no one had ever blown him before. And he was busting in your mouth seconds later.

Swallowing his cum and opening your mouth to show him afterward, Bakugou shook his head.

“Nasty whore.” Bakugou replied, forcing you up and onto the bed, landing on your tummy.

“Had you just asked, I would’ve laid down.” Your shirt was torn off mercilessly by Bakugou, his desperate hands trying to free your tits. Afterward came your sheer tights, followed by your panties. They pooled around your ankles as he left your skirt on for his little fantasies to run wild.

Allowing a firm hand to slap against your now exposed ass, he groaned to himself as he kneaded the skin of your ass between his fingers.

“Pervert.” You mumbled.

Two fingers swiped through your glistening, slick-coated folds.

“The fuck did you just call me?” Bakugou teased, allowing his thumb to rub small, slow, agonizing, circles around your clit.

“F-fuck.” You breathed out, arching your back into his touch.

“Aw does that feel good slut? You want more?” Bakugou dipped his middle finger into your cunt, watching as you mewled underneath him.

You gripped your sheets with embarrassment, unsure of why you’d succumbed to him so fast. You hung your head in disapponment at yourself.

“More. Want more.” You mumbled, feeling empty as his fingers disappeared from your cunt.

“Didn’t know you’d get so wet just from sucking cock.” Bakugou chastised you again.

“Didn’t think you knew where the clit was.” You groaned. However your comment was punished by a striking feeling between your folds.

His fingers slapped against your clit, making you whine as he toyed with you.

“Surely if this wasn’t it, you’d be quiet right now.” Bakugou was just messing around with you at this point. You were panting as his fingers left your abused clit.

He bent down, spreading your cunt open with his fingers, dipping his tongue into your tight hole. You mewled as the appendage ravaged you. Flicking between your cunt and your clit, he was making you scream into your sheets as you came on his tongue.

His chuckled, licking up your mess as he pulled himself away.

“So messy.” He groaned.

“I bet you’ve been waiting for this cock to fill you up huh. I bet you finger this little cunt thinking about it.” Bakugou rubs the tip of his cock between your folds, butting it against your clit, watching as you whine.

“Just fuck me already.” You were tired of hearing him talk. You wanted him inside you.

“I can wait.” He pulled away, allowing the tip of his cock to just barely touch the folds of your pussy. You whined in response.

“Fuck, please fuck me. Please fill me up.” You begged, laying defeated against the mattress, your ass still hoisted in the air.

“That’s more like it-shit so fuckin’ tight.” Bakugou winced, his cock plunging through your tight folds. It felt so good. You were squeezing him, milking his cock without giving him a second to breathe. He felt like cumming again.

“I thought with-fuck-how cocky you were, you were gonna be smaller.” You retorted, mewling as his cock stretched you out, rubbing against your walls.

“You’re gonna regret ever thinking that.” Bakugou responded by peeling your ass apart with his hands, spitting down onto his cock as it slid out of you and then plunged back into you, sending your body jolting forward.

You moaned loudly as his cock plowed through your cunt, his hands now gripping your waist, holding you in place.

“Not so big and bold when you’re stuffed full of this cock huh?”

“You always fuck this good when you’re angry?” You groan, panting as he rearranges your insides.

“You wanna fuck me when I’m not?” Bakugou teases, sliding out of you before thrusting back in. Your long moan shows him he’s doing a good job.

“You might be attractive but your attitude is the worst.” You whine, feeling like you can’t hold the sheets between your fingers tighter.

“I’ll keep that in mind, slut.” Bakugou leaned and grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking it upward, pulling you into his chest. Another hand gripped your throat.

“Fuck, right there!” You mewled, his cock plowing into you at a different angle, the head of his cock bruising all the good spots inside of you.

“Why don’t you cum on this cock?” Bakugou whispered, biting down against your shoulder.

“C-cumming!” You moaned, your cunt clamping down around his cock as you reached your high. Bakugou hissed as you squeezed around him, forcing his spend out of him and into your cunt.

He let you fall against the mattress as he pulled out, a lewd squelching sound followed by his cum leaking from your pussy was a sight to behold the blonde’s eyes.

Snapping a quick picture for later, he reached for something to wipe you up with before laying down beside you.

“Maybe if you shut up half of the time I’d talk to you.” You mumbled, still trying to catch your breath.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Bakugou stared at you.

“It means...” You rolled over on top of him, leaning down toward his face.

“We’d make a good couple if you weren’t an asshole.” You press a cheeky kiss to his lips, short enough for him not to be able to kiss back. He groans and flips the tables, forcing you under him as he kisses you passionately.

“So fuckin’ date me then and stop fuckin’ around with that half and half bastard.” Bakugou replies.

“Are you blushing?” You tease the blonde, your own cheeks feeling hotter than usual. Bakugou groans and plants his face into your pillow.

“Shut the fuck up. And not a word of this to anyone-”

“Unless I become your girlfriend yeah I know.” You lay beside him and yank up the covers over your naked body, kicking off the rest of your clothes that were uncomforabtly stuck around your ankles.

“I don’t really mean to be such an ass. I just thought-”

“Exactly, you assumed I was a dick. Just shut up, you’re making this worse for you. You really want me to break up with you after we just got together?”

Bakugou is dead silent for the rest of the night as he eventually cuddles up next to you.

The following morning, a few people are surprised to see you actually speaking to Bakugou, and Todoroki is one of them.

Though by the end of the week, most everyone knew what went down, Bakugou mentioned it to Kirishima on accident and then it had spread.

Todoroki was thoroughly surprised, due to the entire nature of you and Bakugou’s previous relationship. But ultimately, as long as you were happy, he couldn’t be mad.

“About time you realized you liked her.” He mentioned swiftly to Bakugou as they passed in the common room.

“What you’d say to me!?”

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

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cheelduh · 3 years

Text

How to tie up a cute boy

(Highschool Au)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Parts: 1 2 3

Word count: 4K

Warnings: Swearing, Scaramouche abuse, no Signora slander this time, shit humour.

Synopsis: "Why are you doing homework?" Childe groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

Note: Unedited yet again besties. Tysm for reading :) I got Childe after losing him to mf MONA, istg it was the most stressful moment of my life.

The clock ticks with its pendulum, ridiculing you as it holds the time. The gentle whirring of the air conditioning in the background serves as the icing on the cake to your pent up aggression.

You try not to glare at your phone too much after receiving a text from Childe that told you not to worry, that his dad picked him up and that he was in the comfort of his home, letting the flu blow over.

It took a lot of convincing from his part earlier that morning to get you to go back and actually attend the rest of your classes, making sure to check up on him every break plus the additional "bathroom breaks" you usually never take while in class.

"I can't let you get in trouble for me." He murmured with a small smile that pumped your blood a little faster than usual. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry your pretty little head."

You do exactly that.

You don't even know why you're so worried. He's sick, not dying. Not to mention, you aren't even his girlfriend let alone his friend to care so much.

Your intrusive thoughts don't waste any time. You latch onto the one thought that takes over. He's probably dead. Lying in his bed in a heap of pillows, passing peacefully while his parents are in the other room. He's dead.

Okay, he's not dead. You intrusive thoughts sure do one hell of a job. He'll be fine, and in no time he'll go back to being a reckless distraction in your life that you need to surpass. Just another obstacle to add onto the list of things life has thrown at you.

But for an obstacle, he sure is kind of cute.

You refrain from bashing your head on the desk. School isn't really a preferred environment on your list of top ten places to shrivel up and die.

Speaking of death and all that is evil, why is Childe always on your mind? He takes up every nook and cranny of your day, constantly, and truth be told it's starting to boil your piss.

Every time you close your eyes you see his smug smile, and hear his stupid laugh. He's an annoying little prick who gets a rise out of exasperating you. Yet here you are, terrified by the warmth that blossoms in your heart when you so much as hear his name.

The final bell rings at long last, conveniently before you bite your tongue to avoid screaming, and not another second is wasted once you launch yourself out the door. You dodge through the crowd of students in the hall that are buzzing in excitement from it being a Friday afternoon, and you would be too if you weren't so damn hung up over a ginger with a battlekink.

Locker in view, you make a beeline and spend the next two minutes fumbling with the lock in your hands.

"Woah there cutie," Lisa speaks up playfully. "At this rate you'll break the poor lock with your bare hands."

For a moment you're surprised at her sudden appearance, but then remember that it's normal for her to worm her way anywhere.

"It's just—this lock is being dumb okay? It has no reason being a pain in my ass but it wakes up every day and chooses violence." You hiss through your teeth, a sharp metallic ring invading your ears when you lose it and jostle the combination lock against the door of your locker.

Lisa winces, but smiles teasingly nonetheless. "Want me to give it a try?"

"Please."

Lisa has the door open at record speed.

"I love you Lisa." You confess wholeheartedly, gripping at your chest. "I love you so much—"

"Yeah yeah," She waves you off with a grin. "Now hurry up and go save your boyfriend from the common flu. Archons knows he won't make the night."

You flush at the word "boyfriend" and don't give much thought to the insinuation that lies within the rest of her sentence.

Sliding your skateboard under an arm, you spin on your heel just to bump straight into Scaramouche, who's won the scowl of the century on his face. He's the last person you want to see right now, but apparently the universe wants to have a pissing match with you.

"Give this homework to that idiot Ginger." He shoves a stack of papers into you. "Tell him that once he's done circling the drain, I'm gonna kick his ass." He then leans in, murderous glint in his eyes. "And if you ever touch me again I'll take a shit in your cereal. That's not a threat, it's a promise."

You shiver at the thought of him squatting on your Cheerios, hands becoming clammy as you try and justify yourself. "It was an accident."

Your pitiful excuse earns you nothing from the navy haired boy. "It'll be an accident when I murder your entire family, three generations over."

"Hi Mona!" You wave excitedly over his shoulder at the body of students that are totally not Mona. With elation he fails to conceal, Scaramouche turns to look at the speed of light.

You take the chance to make your escape—not before waving to Lisa, chuckling to yourself. He's down bad.

With great expertise you file your way through the flock of students chattering near the entrance. , you confidently place your skateboard down on the sidewalk, ready to—

Wait—where does he live again?

You sigh heavily, ignoring the sadness as you thank the universe internally for pulling the reigns on your disastrous plan. Checking up on Childe at his house? With his family present? Making a complete fool out of yourself? What are you thinking? The possibilities are horrendous. He probably doesn't even think of you like that, he just likes a challenge and you pose as one.

You turn away to make a run for it in the direction of your home, all the while ignoring the nagging worry in your chest for Childe. He's probably fine anyways, you don't need to check up on him, and if you did he'd likely find a way to spin it and tease you relentlessly.

Although somehow, the thought of being teased by him isn't as dreadful as you'd like it to be.

Suddenly, an idea graces you, one that guarantees your misery by sating your obligation to check up on Childe. A litany of curses escape your mouth. Genius really, the amount of ways you can think of doing something that'll end in your demise.

"Adeptus Xiao." You whisper apprehensively, already regretting your decision. "Adeptus Xiao." Glancing around your surroundings, you barely notice the shadow that looms over you at your backside.

"What do you want mortal?" Unbeknownst to you, he strikes out of nowhere, making you jump back several meters. You manage to muffle a surprised shriek.

Xiao is Venti's -6 ft boyfriend, the vicious epitome of an eboy. He has a scaled tattoo covering up the majority of an arm, a few piercing holes in his ears, all matched up with a disinterested look. Somehow, he always appears out of nowhere if you call out his name. It's sort of disturbing in a way.

His amber eyes pierce through you, forcing a shudder of fear and dread to lace your blood, almost as if he can sense you shittalking him in your head.

With shaky hands, you ask, "Can you tell me where—"

"No."

"You didn't even hear me ou—"

"No."

"Please?"

He refuses to at least pretend to think about it for a moment.

"No."

"Why?" You frown, stomping your foot on the ground childishly.

"Because." He retorts with a lack of interest, but doesn't further explain his point. English teachers must love this kid.

"Okay," You say slowly, casually inspecting his form as you come up with an idea, briefly remembering Lumine mentioning it to you. "How about I give you my share on almond tofu Tuesday."

The lack of interest on his face wavers slightly. Bingo.

"What do you want mortal?" Xiao mutters gruffly, arms crossed, face morphing into subtle annoyance.

You wrack your brain for a proper answer. You can't just outright ask him or it'll seem like you have a thing for Childe, which you unfortunately do, but you'd like to keep a semblance of integrity. Ah yes, the homework!

"I gotta deliver these to Childe." You outstretch the pile of worksheets in your hands. "Except I don't know where he lives. Can you tell me?"

Xiao's eyes glint with danger. "Did you summon me for the trivial task of giving you an address?"

You nod furiously.

"Do humans have no shame?" Its rhetorical. Expressionlessly, he closes his eyes with intent focus, doing what you assume to be locating Childe's exact location.

He blinks an eye open, reaches a hand out. "Give me your phone." Palm waiting.

You hand it over to him almost desperately.

One glance at your bubbly phone case and he doesn't even try to hide his distaste. He taps a few times, then hands it back to you almost immediately.

On the screen is maps, and Childe's home is about a fifteen minute walk away.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "How did you do that?"

"Easy," He mutters, leaning back against the school gate as the remainder of students walk past the two of you. "Locating demons that need subjugating is but a simple task."

There's a pregnant pause. Demon.

"Childe's a demon?" You gasp, even though you've always had your suspicions. Hence the reason you invest so much in demon-cancelling charms.

"What? No." He mutters with a roll of his eyes, and you note that his irritation grows the more questions you ask. "I had a physics project with him last semester."

That's why the charms don't work.

Your mouth forms an o, in fear that if you keep this conversation going on any longer, he'll snap at you. Especially when your next line of interrogation involves how he's able to appear and disappear into thin air.

It's a magic trick you'll want to master whenever Il Dottore has another conniption fit in the middle of the hallways after Kaeya tells him he looks like he has skid marks.

"Thank you." You say instead, trying to preserve his regard, but by the time you meet his gaze he's already gone with the wind.

—

Childe's home is surprisingly humble, considering the amount of fat stacks of cash he carries around in his fanny pack so care-freely. It's a normal suburban home from what you can tell, a little bigger than normal with a double garage, neatly mowed lawn and a few forgotten decorations from the windblume festival. A series of water guns lay forgotten near the entrance, making their presence known when you stumbled upon them.

It's hard to remain unphased. Especially since such a normal looking home has bred someone as ruthless as Childe.

Maybe it not the home, you think. Maybe it's the way he was raised. You recall a few glimpses of his mother in middle school, but because of your worse for wear memory retention, you can't ballpark her personality type.

As your thoughts wander further down to his parents and early childhood, villain origin story and what not, you're pulled out of your concentration when the door opens. The possible implications of being here are most definitely not in your favor.

Childe's mother is a stunning woman in her mid-forties who sure as hell doesn't show it in that jaw-dropping sapphire dress, topped off with a brilliant smile that makes your knees weak. Like mother like son, you suppose.

With her sudden appearance, strangely enough, you can remember how good her tiramisu bites are.

You take a moment to respond, swallowing thickly, only to stare at her stupidly.

His mother doesn't waste another second before ushering you in, oblivious to your star-struck expression. "Y/N? L/N Y/N? My have you grown. I remember when you were only this tall." She lifts her hand up a little above her waist, the jewels on her fingers dazzling with every movement. "How is your mother doing?"

"She's doing alright, busy with the clinic." You're able to find your words, smiling back at her, able to get somewhat familiar with her warmth. "I hope I'm not intruding. Childe forgot some homework." You say, heaving the short stack up.

"Ajax?" She laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe he's going by that now. I wonder when this phase will be over. He may act tough but he's such a softie, has the biggest heart."

You, in between concealed emotions and giggles that threaten to leak, try to hide the oncoming grin but it's impossible. "Well he's got you to thank for it."

"You flatter me too much Y/N," She fixes the up do, pinning back the blonde hair that deftly frame her familiar cerulean eyes. "I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Her words make you waver momentarily. The fondness you've refused to share, the drawn out stares in the halls, the lingering touches, you don't want to acknowledge it but it's there. Whatever it is.

"I'm so sorry for cutting this short dear," His mother sighs, grabbing her keys off the counter and placing her wallet in an elegant handbag. "My niece is getting married and we're already late. I told Ajax I'd stay if he didn't feel too well but he said he could handle a headache. That boy, I swear, always tries to power through."

You nod in understanding, but wait a minute. A headache?

Scrunching up your face, eyebrows furrowed, you ask. "Headache?"

She frowns, applying another layer of her rouge lipstick hastily in a nearby mirror. "I know dear, how unfortunate. The school nurse said it's a migraine, and I shouldn't fret much, but a mother can't help but worry. If only he weren't so stubborn, like his father."

As if on cue, a loud honk comes from outside.

"That must be him!" She exclaims, hurriedly sliding in her heels, turning back to look at your awkward figure. "Ajax is in his room, it's the second door to the right upstairs. I've made some lasagna for the kids, you ought to have some as well, I'll be upset if you don't—" Another annoying honk cuts her off, to which she scoffs, shaking a fist. "That old man, I'll strangle him in his sleep. I must be going now, goodbye dear." She reveals a twinkling smile at you one last time, waving a slim hand before picking up her heels and making a run for it.

The door closes with an unceremonious thud, gust of wind in its trail, leaving a bewildered high schooler in its wake.

Snapping out of your haze, overwhelming tides threaten to drown you whole. Being in Childe's home, alone, with him a handful of stair steps and a wall or two away, your cheeks are set ablaze.

Now that his mother's gone, you take a second to really look. There are a few toys littered in front of the TV, home covered in with soft throws and coordinated cushions, a lazy sectional plopped right in the middle. The marks on the furniture with all the stories, the light hued mismatched frames hanging on the walls and on all the table, so many pictures of those that resemble him, his brothers, his sisters, his family. You can almost hear the echoing laughter in the halls, the childish squeals and pitter patter of tiny feet slapping the hardwood floor.

This is where he grew up. This is where he retires to after a long day full of gratifying fistfights. This is where he was raised to be who he is today, ambitious and reckless, with the absurd dream to one day rule the world. This is his home.

It's...like being wrapped in blanket, safe and cozy, surrounded by all the love in the world.

Absentmindedly, your fingers trace the outlines of a younger Childe, two missing teeth and eyes full of dreams, hugging the side of his father's shoulder because his small arms can't wrap around them. Not just yet.

You make your way over to the staircase, which has even more frames littered across the wall, one that falls short of hiding the marks of a green crayon—another slice of domesticity you aren't quite accustomed to.

The reality sets in, and you come to a conclusion. This home is definitely not an environment for growing psychopaths, Childe just beats the odds like he beats up kids on the daily.

Your fist hovers over his door as you contemplate abandoning the sheets on a nearby table, but his mother was so sweet and polite, so incredibly hospitable, you wouldn't have the heart to make a run for it.

"I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Three consecutive knocks. If he doesn't answer, you'll leave them at the door.

"Mama," Childe's muffled groans stem from the other side, and oh, you want to revel in the grave undertone of his voice because it's certainly not a common occurrence. "I told you I'm fine. You can go okay? I don't want you to be late, just need to sleep it off."

You blink, lips curling, and then knock again.

"Mama," He whines again, and it has you grinning mischievously. He's a mommy's boy, he has to be. The thought envelopes your heart with a newfound fondness. "Just come in and hurry."

You eagerly take in the room once you slip in, eyes scanning over every little detail, until they zero in on the heap of sheets smack dab on the single bed, a pair of feet dangling off the edge, topped with a comforter thrown over leisurely.

Childe's facing away from you, head dipped in between his shoulders, probably trying to find a position that's more comfortable. He's shivering, sweating at the same time. His mother must've been too preoccupied to notice. This isn't the first time he's used his exceptional bullshitting finesse.

"I can't believe you lied to your mother," You cross your arms, leaning back against the door.

With a jerk, Childe flings into a sitting up position, wide awake and aware of everything that is going on, a stark contrast from nearly seconds ago.

He blinks at you in shock, once, twice, rubs his eyes a bit, relaxes, then leans back, out of it completely. "For a sleep paralysis monster, you sure are kind of cute."

"For and idiot you sure are an idiot." You snort back.

"Wait a minute," He mutters slowly, jaw dropping. "You're actually here?!"

Ignoring his question, you opt to slap the papers on his desk to ignore your clammy palms. "Homework."

"And here I thought you came here all this way to be my personal nurse." He smirks, recovering from his momentary shock fairly swiftly. Doesn't refrain from giving you that shit stain of a bad boy grin, even with a flushed face and concavity under his eyes.

"I can be your personal mortician instead."

"I didn't know you were into role play babe, but I'll take what I can get." He winks, but is punished by a sequence of coughs that earn a wince from you.

"Headache?" You tease after he quiets down, but he remains as cavalier as always.

He sighs, sides of his lips still arched upwards. "My parents barely have any time to themselves, it's so hectic with the kids. What kind of son would I be if I couldn't even give them this?"

He must've threatened Barbara.

"You're," You inhale, briefly letting the silence hang between you two, mulling over what you wish to convey. sweet.

"Irresistible? Hot? Sexy?" He starts casual, arrogant smirk widening.

"Kind of not a complete asshole, is what I was going to say."

"Careful girlie," He narrows his eyes on you, playful lilt in his tone. The comforter is allowed to slip past his shoulders to reveal the goods that lie underneath, the complete naked chest of a post-puberty highschool boy who sprays too much axe. Full pectorals are something to pay for, stringed with smooth muscles that ripple their way over his toned shoulders. "If you keep teasing me like this, I can't promise I'll be the nice guy."

"One more time from the top," You bite back, avoiding staring at him for too long. "Without the congested nose this time."

With great expertise, he weakly throws a pillow at you, and you watch it exceptionally land at your feet, barely grazing the tips of your socks.

"Impressive," You whistle, not impressed.

He pouts, shivers, then is dunking his head back into the welcoming embrace of his plush collection of pillows.

With a sigh, you plop down on his chair, grab a pen and begin calculating derivatives.

"What're you doing?" He doesn't even turn your way, voice muffled.

"Homework," You reply nonchalantly, trying to calm your nerves. "unless you want me to get you something to eat, considering you puked out your gogurt on Barbara's shoes earlier. Congrats by the way, you're hit listed by her fan club."

"Why are you doing homework?" He groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

He really has an IQ below room temperature.

Burying the formidable obligation to clock him in the face on behalf of society, you slowly get up to approach his bed, to which he grins widely in disbelief.

Apprehensively, you climb onto his bed, and he scoots over, excitement as clear as day. His hair's a wild mess from all the shifting, almost makes you want to card a hand through it. Your heart nestles it's way in your throat at the sight of his blazing blue eyes.

You pity him for what you're about to do.

"Relax Childe," You lean over him with confidence you never knew you had to begin with, face hovering inches before his. Your fists strategically grip the comforter on either side of him. "We have all day after all."

Although you attempt to pay no heed to his quivering hand that snakes up to find solace on your hip, you momentarily shiver at the tenderness.

He's eating this up and leaving no crumbs. Closing his eyes in anticipation, his lips tremble when he tries to close in the distance.

Abruptly, you cross both handfuls of sheets over his body, tying them securely in place to keep him docile. He struggles in your grip, eyes snapping open in surprise. "Wuh-What."

"Did you really think you had a chance?" You cross your arms, stepping back to get a good look at your handiwork.

"Honestly?" Childe huffs, struggles some in his restraints. "I wasn't really thinking."

"Typical," You scrunch your nose up, unscrunch, and then exhale. "You stay here and I'll go make you some soup. Well, not that you can really move but you get the idea."

"You're really going to leave me here like this?" He pouts cutely, melting you, and the sick bastard knows of his power.

"Relax," You wave a hand, "I may be evil but I'm not Scaramouche."

Meanwhile, Scaramouche sneezes as he tries to ask Mona out, falling straight on his ass from the kick back, making a complete fool out of himself. Mona doesn't mind though, finds it endearing.

Back at Childe's room, he raises a brow, expectant.

Going through the five stages of grief, you do something you've been wanting to do for a while, succumbing to the immense feeling.

Closing in the distance between you two, you suck in a breath and gently tilt Childe's head to the side. He blinks quickly, not quite expecting your sudden forwardness, about to say something that doesn't matter as soon as you place a tender peck on the side of his cheek.

Time stops, the world coming to a halt completely. A moment made in history, one you won't ever forget, fresh in both your minds from forward on.

And then you stagger away as if you've been stabbed.

"Soup!" You squeak, appalled by the sheer boldness of your actions. "I'll go make soup while you rest."

Childe, frozen, stares at you incredibly confused, and then beams.

Dear Archons, what have you done.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshot #childe x reader #childe #fanfic #genshin oneshot #kaeya alberich #dottore #genshin tartagalia #tartagila #lumine genshin impact #mona genshin impact #aether #barbara genshin impact #ajax x reader

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cant-think-of-anything · 3 years

Text

All my energy was used on the fic, you don't get a title

Basically I took the scenes of lord of shadows and replaced the characters

( @littlx-songbxrd helped me develop the plot a lot so thank you Zia)

TW: descriptions of blood and injury, mentions of homophobia and ableism

Thomas had quickly come to the conclusion that he hated the land of Fae. Not because the location itself harboured ill experiences, but rather because of his travel companions.

He glanced at said travel companions. Alastair and Christopher were attempting to assemble a fire, struggling greatly because London wasn't exactly a place of forests. Alastair's face was stern with concentration, eyebrows drawn together as they always were, a permanent appearance of disapproval. His lips were turned down slightly, frustration causing him to scrunch up his face.

It wasn't adorable, Thomas scolded himself, it was intolerable. And entirely unenjoyable. He breathed a sigh, turning away from them and back at the rushing waters of a river. They'd been sent to be audience to the Seelie court and request their assistance to defeat Belial. It was a useless excursion, the Faerie wouldn't intervene unless their own land was being threatened. But the Clave had sent them regardless.

Christopher called his name, his voice a whispered yell as to not draw attention from whatever lurked in the forests. He picked his way back, settling on his sleeping mat and looking up. Without a fire, only moonlight made anything visible. Christopher had curled up already, but Alastair was awake. He was staring up at the stars his eyes wide with something like wonder.

The sight was disarming, but Thomas turned away, before Alastair caught his stare. Nothing good could result from that. The Sanctuary was a few weeks past, and what had started as longing glances and tortured pining turned into short tempers and quick annoyance. They hadn't talked, not the way Thomas desperately wanted to, but they had argued and bickered nearly every time they crossed paths. And he despised it.

Curling his hand into a fist, he turned onto his side and willed himself to sleep.

____

Alastair was fairly certain they were lost. It was as if Faerie shifted everytime they were on the correct path, and it accomplished nothing but adding to his frustration. And apparently, Thomas's.

"We should go north." He said, his eyes glinting with annoyance.

"Are you stupid? Do you want us to get killed? We'll end up there either way."

"Your method would take longer and time is something I don't fancy to waste."

"And your brilliant solution is to- what? Traverse through an entirely unmapped territory? It's far too dangerous, and I would like to keep my head adjoined to my body."

"Maybe sometimes it would do you some good to do something dangerous."

"Oh?" Alastair whirled towards him, their faces inches away from the other, each sparked with anger. "Do something dangerous? Like you? To my memory, it got you imprisoned!"

"Perhaps it would suit you to travel in solitude! Since you always seem to prefer that anyway!"

"I do not-"

"I really do not think we should be causing this much of a disturbance," Christopher chimed in, his face twisted in confusion, head swiveling between both of them. "They're simply... directions?"

"Without directions." Alastair said, "you end up lost." His eyes stayed locked with Thomas's, head tilted to meet his infuriating height.

"We won't get lost," he hissed back.

"For someone with a tattoo of a compass you truly have a horrendous sense of direction-"

"We could just," Christopher started, flipping the map over, before looking up with wide eyes. "Go through here." He gestured at the map.

"Absolutely wonderful. Let's leave, I wish to depart as soon as we're able."

A few moments passed before a loud screech like noise emerged from the forests. Because why, Alastair thought drawing out his weapons, would anything ever be simple for him. Christopher and Thomas pressed closer when the creature burst forth from the trees. And really creature was the only world he had for it. It appeared as a demon but not one Alastair had ever studied, and from the looks on the others faces they hadn't either.

"Do we-"

The creature lunged faster than any demon could, a flash of the murky green that colored it's scales. It's claws flashed, charging at Thomas. Alastair briefly registered slipping in between the two, lodging the wooden shaft of his spear between it's jaw. He sought out Christopher sliding under the thing to stab it with his blade, killing it quickly but not quickly enough to prevent when the creatures claws raked against the top of his chest.

Air rushed out of his lungs and he felt familiar arms wrap around him, catching him before he could fall. His eyes fluttered shut on their own record. He fought to regain conciusness, he refused to be unconscious around the likes of his companions, but he felt himself dragged into blackness regardless.

---

Christopher was accustomed to his friends odd relations. He had certainly gained enough practice observing the spats they often had. But whatever anger his cousin held towards Alastair was always a puzzle to him. He was sure it was a puzzle to them too considering their never ending shifts in emotion.

He looked over at Thomas who's face was twisted in something between intense worry and sorrow. His eyes dropped to Alastair who had still not woken up, bandages covered the scratches that stretched from his shoulder to the top of his neck. He winced remembering the injury, bleeding profusely with no runes to stem it. His own worry for Alastair had occupied much of his mind. James and Matthew would be furious at such a thing but Christopher found he didn't care.

"I'll go stand watch," Christopher offered, making his way to the outside of the cave they'd taken shelter in.

Thomas hated being in debt, he remembered. When they were younger he would never accept help unless it was forced upon him, his stubborn nature preventing it. And now after Alastair had risked his life twice to help him, he must feel like he owed something.

Christopher pulled himself onto one of the rocks resting outside of the cave and tipped his head back. He missed his home. Not whatever had overtaken it in the months past, he missed Henry, he missed his parents who he'd barely conversed with since before the killings had happened. He missed Alexander even if the child cried a storm. He glanced up at the sky, noticing the first rays of dawn breaking through the clouds. He pulled himself off of his rock with a sigh. He wished for normalcy more than anything. But he doubted it would grace them anytime soon.

He ducked under the entrance of the cave, opening his mouth to call out for Thomas to get ready to depart. But Thomas wasn't awake.

He was curled onto his side, facing Alastair, both evidently asleep. Their hands stretched out the distance between them and were laced together.

Christopher sucked in a breath. "Oh, Thomas," he breathed.

He'd known of his cousin's vauge feelings for Alastair from the time that Thomas was quite a bit shorter than him. But he hadn't fully understood what the two felt towards each other. He knelt between them, gently attempting to pry their hands apart, but both their grips tightened. As if through the small action they were able to pour every unsaid emotion they'd held.

Christopher wasn't a stranger to the way the Clave treated anyone they viewed as different. The way they shut down every attempt Henry had made to better the Shadowhunter world, the way they would continue to deny any of his own attempts. They claimed to want happiness and order for all but the moment someone proved to differ from their standards they would shut them down and rid of the evidence. They would remain under the pretense of fairness while they claimed credit for any accomplishments him or his uncle managed to force into them.

Thomas never had chosen himself, never his own happiness. Christopher let go of their intertwined hands, then looking at Thomas's face. It was almost drawn up in concentration. He stood, glancing at them once more before returning to the front of the cave and yelling for Thomas to wake up so they could depart to the castle. It wasn't as much as he wanted to do, but it was all he could.

___

Thomas dumped their small pile of belongings near the foot of the bed. The Seelie Queen had apparently chosen graciousness that night and permitted them two rooms. Christopher claimed the first one, leaving Thomas and Alastair to occupy the other. Not that Alastair had woken yet.

Thomas crossed the room, refusing to look where Alastair was laying on the bed, where he would soon need to lay next to him. He made his way to Christopher's room, too tired to truly marvel at the tall marble pillars and regal decor adorning the halls and bedrooms. Christopher was cross-legged on the bed, scrawling something into a notebook under the dim lights that shone through the waterfall close to the wall.

He pulled himself onto the bed next to him, worrying at the material of his nightshirt. Christopher looked up after a moment, fixing his peculiar eyes on Thomas.

"Are you all right Tom?"

The question shouldn't have startled him as much as it did. "I'm okay."

Christopher lips tightened. "You're lying. You usually do when people ask you."

Thomas breathed a soft sigh, pulling his legs up onto the bed. "I know."

Christopher studied him for a few moments, debating something in his mind before saying "You don't have to sacrifice yourself to make us happy Thomas. Anyone who truly cares for you will not love you any less for your decisions."

Thomas startled, looking at him with widened eyes. Something in his heart sped up, as if a weight had lifted from it causing it to beat faster in it's absence. "I don't- I don't understand-"

A hand gripped his forearm. "Go back to your room Thomas. I suspect he'll wake soon."

___

When Alastair woke he wasn't in a forest. He had known the Faerie were images of royalty but the room seemed ridiculously extravagant. He wanted to pull himself up in the bed but a sharp sting on his neck forced him back down.

The door swung open then, Thomas entered with a odd look on his face. It switched to overwhelming relief when he saw Alastair.

Swallowing, Alastair rose a hand his neck. The Faeries must have worked on the wound, it had healed over somewhat but not enough to relieve him of the pain.

He heard Thomas clear his throat. When Alastair looked up again, he'd moved to the other side of his bed. "You had gotten injured in the forest. We're in the Seelie Courts now, you've been indisposed for a few hours."

"Oh." He wasn't sure what else to add.

Thomas stared at him for a few unnerving moments before making a frustrated noise. He slid onto the bed, folding his legs underneath him and giving Alastair an imploring sort of look. "I'm sorry. For everything I've done. And I'm sorry I couldn't give you the right words in the sanctuary. I'll try to give them now."

Alastair inhaled sharply, from surprise rather than pain. "I don't understand. You shouldn't be apologizing-"

Thomas half smiled before cutting him off. "Let someone apologize to you for once. You deserve as much after the way we've treated you."

Biting his lip and looking away, Alastair noticed the pile of clothes and other luggage in the corner of the room. Oh. He turned back.

"Well Mr. Lightwood I find your apology to be satisfactory, despite it still being unnecessary."

Thomas smiled fully then and something in Alastair's chest loosened.

"Does this mean I am permitted to use the bed alongside you?" His voice was teasing.

"As long as you manage to stay on your side of it."

But that rule was quickly broken, Thonas shifted close and carefully curled his body around Alastair, his head resting on in his curls and limb wrapped loosely around him. Alastair breathed a small breath of relief before pressing his face into Thomas's neck and sleeping peacefully for the first time in years.

Happy birthday Zia!! Ilysm and you deserve literally every good thing in the world, you're amazing and very talented and yeah <33

Tagging: @adoravel-fenomeno @thewarthatsavedmylife @eugeniaslongsword @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @alice-got-the-blues @writeforjordelia (lmk if you want to be added or removed)

I'll tag @youngreckless for thomastair week

#alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #christopher lightwood #tlh #thomastair #the last hours #tsc

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lemonandtheart · 3 years

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@gxmonth Day 18 - This Wasn't In The Rule Book!! vampire au vampire aU VAMPIRE AU~~!! I have always been such a sucker for monsters and magic lol. I wrote a little fanfic drabble a hot minute ago that I'll include under the cut!

There were rumors running rampant all through Domino. Breathless whispers through the crowds of its residents. They spread fear like the plague, but who could blame them? With all of the people who’d gone missing never to be seen again it was only natural such a fear would grow until it had reached an unprecedented proportion. Whether it was truth or not didn’t matter because to the people of Domino there was no doubt. A vampire was on the loose through the city streets after nightfall.

Despite the lack of evidence, Jesse Andersen hoped the rumors true. He’d come a long way to hunt down this supposed dirty bloodsucker. His friend, Jim, had offered to come along on the journey too but Jesse had declined. They didn’t truly know if there was a vampire in Domino City. He’d certainly find out after dark. Since the people of Domino had been keeping holed up inside at night the past few months, he was sure the parasite had to be starved by now.

A chill settled in the night air once the sun fully disappeared over the horizon. Jesse pulled his thick, black jacket tighter to his chest. It would be a long night. He was glad he’s had the foresight of buying himself a hot coffee before the shops closed. It warmed him from the inside out as he perused the streets. Hopefully one of two things would occur: either there was no vampire and he’d be on his merry way after a quick report back to the Vampire Hunter’s Association or there was a parasitic lowlife lurking among the shadows that he would eliminate well before the sun would rise again. Either way Jesse felt that he’d be headed home within the next few days.

He paused underneath of a spotlight near a fountain. It wasn’t running and with the high-rise buildings surrounding he felt even the nearly silent sound of his pulse was amplified. It was quiet—eerily so. Not a thing in the whole city seemed to make any noise and the stillness of it was deafening. A soft, distant tapping of heels against pavement was a deliberate break in the silence. Jesse set his hand on the small stake launcher secured to his belt. The sound echoed and made it seem to come from everywhere at once. He slowly backed up to the fountain, craning his neck around to try and find the direction of the noise. Any direction would do. What he wasn’t expecting was the freezing hands on his shoulders matched with a silken, sultry voice from directly behind him. “Well, what’s a pretty thing like you doing here?”

Jesse jolted from the grasp and yanked the weapon from its holster, aiming it squarely at the chest of the man, no, monster he was looking for. He had messy, untamable, two-toned brown hair and a set of gleaming golden eyes staring hungrily at him. He wore a low-cut V-neck shirt that nearly slit down to his stomach, the two sides of the fabric held together by thin string tied crossways. The sleeves, he noticed, were ruffled when he moved his hands up to the sides of his head — palms facing forward in a show of submission. His pants buttoned and sat snugly on his thin hips before disappearing beneath his high-heeled boots at the knee. The heels dug into the stone of the fountain he stood upon; the streetlights the ideal backdrop for his cape he wore over the ensemble. It fastened just above his clavicle with a jeweled button. Jesse sneered in disgust at the creature, but more so at the choice of apparel. It was far too extra, making him look more like a movie villain than a bloodthirsty creature of night. “Hasn’t anyone warned you it’s dangerous to be out so late at night?” The vampire questioned.

“I could ask the same to you, vampire.” Jesse responded, gesturing to the launcher aimed still at his chest. The vampire chuckled.

“Perhaps, but I own these streets. The name’s Jaden by the way. Jaden Yuki. To whom do I owe the pleasure of meeting this lovely evening?”

“Jesse Andersen. Sorry to say, but these streets were never yours.” Jaden kept his hands raised but stepped down from his position atop the fountain’s rim. Jesse began backing up, his eyes and shot never leaving the vampire as he strutted towards him.

“Is that so?” He drawled, continuing his slow approach. Jesse’s fingers twitched on the trigger, the small movement pushing Jaden to respond. He kicked high, knocking the weapon out of Jesse’s hands and into the sky. It came crashing back to the Earth and hit the rock of the fountain with a horrendous crack, bouncing into the water in a jagged movement. Jesse’s eyes widened at the horror of being disarmed. He hadn’t expected to find an adversary of any remarkable skill on the streets of Domino. Now, only panic and fear pooled in his stomach as he kept his eyes locked on Jaden’s. “Care to tell me what brings you here, Jesse?”

“You.”

“Me?” Jaden asked, cocking his head to the side in an innocent way.

“Obviously! You’re the one who’s been kidnapping people for the past few months!” Jesse’s words only seemed to confuse Jaden more. He furrowed his brow hard.

“Wait, wait. Hold on a minute. First of all, I haven’t kidnapped anyone ever! I haven’t even been out from the lair in a year or so! I’ve been—”

“I thought you owned these streets?” Jesse sassed.

“Well, ehe, I thought it’d sound cool. Didn’t it?” Jaden admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“That doesn’t matter!” Jesse exclaimed, shaking Jaden’s shoulders. Jaden pouted.

“Fine, fine. Anyways, I’m not the one you’re after.”

“Great! Now I’m stuck in the heart of Domino with two vampires wandering the streets with no weapon.” He whined, coming to sit at the fountain. Jaden shrugged casually.

“There are plenty more vampires than that here, but okay.” An idea struck Jesse, fast and hard and stupid. So stupid, in fact, it just might work.

“You!” He exclaimed suddenly, rushing Jaden and squeezing his shoulders roughly. Jaden blinked slowly at him.

“Me?”

“Yes! You’ve got to know all the vampires around here!”

“So?”

“So, you must know the one responsible! You can help me!” Jaden’s eyes narrowed, intrigue taking over.

“Oh? And what’s in it for me?” He purred. Jesse gulped but didn’t let the fear register. He knew it’d make his job so much easier to play the enemy. If he could get Jaden to work with him, he could eliminate not only the immediate threat but Jaden as well. Killing two vampires with one stake. All he had to do was play his cards right.

“Would…some of my blood be fine enough payment?” He asked, playing as though he was embarrassed by such an idea. He’d noticed many vampires he’d dealt with in the past responded well if he pretended like he was new, nervous, and never before bitten. It was like the idea of being the first to drink from a human was a special treat that was rarely given. He’d been bitten plenty by vampires and honestly it wasn’t that bad. It only would become a problem should he take his lifeblood—the true way to turn a human into a vampire. Jaden pursed his lips as Jesse lowered the collar of his jacket, offering payment upfront for his cooperation. He closed in on Jesse, gripping his biceps and wetly licking a stripe up Jesse’s neck to his ear. Jesse hated the way his body shuddered at the feeling, both of the lick and Jaden’s hot breath now in his ear. Though, he was also grateful for it. It helped to sell the unspoken act of it being his first time. He bit his own lip, mentally preparing himself for Jaden’s fangs. It was always the initial jab that was the worst part. A short, single noise of amusement left Jaden’s mouth before his answer rang numbly in his ear.

“No.” Jesse felt his eyes widen when Jaden pulled back to look Jesse in the face, a casual smirk present on his lips. He had never once in all of his time dealing with vampires ever had one turn down a willing, easy meal. It was astounding and almost admirable. Jaden was on an entirely new level of vampire he’d never seen before. He could feel his cheeks flush with real embarrassment of being turned down so casually. What, was his blood not good enough? “I came up for a reason tonight, Jesse. Would you like to know it?” Words failed, so he simply nodded. Jaden closed the short distance between them and slotted his chin in the juncture of Jesse’s neck, lips less than an inch away from Jesse’s ear. He whispered like he was revealing a grand secret. “You see, I’ve very recently come of age. It’s time to build a court of my own, but to do that I have to prove myself. Know how?” His answer was a shake of the head. He could feel Jaden’s smirk grow. “I have to turn a human into a vampire in front of everyone I know. A little ceremony if you will. I was hoping to find myself a willing participant to join my court. My first member. That’s all I could ever ask for.”

The color that’d been building in Jesse’s face drained. He was terrified in the, albeit gentle, grip of a vampire that wanted to turn him. It was a good thing in a way. At least Jaden didn’t have any desire to kill him, and that made him feel a bit better. Still, with all the vampires Jesse’d seen he’d never truly spoken to one longer than necessary. In one short description from Jaden, he felt like he’d learned more of the societal structure of vampires than he had in his relatively short career. Jaden pulled away from him, making eye contact with Jesse. He could feel the icy cold of Jaden’s fingers on the skin of his face. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Jesse shook his head, hoping to tune back in. “What?” He asked. Jaden shook his head softly, tsking.

“I said that if you wanted to, we could have a little fun. Make a game of it. Only if you’re a willing participant of course. I’d hate to coerce you into a life you’re uncomfortable with.”

“A game of what?”

“Rewards! If you win, I’ll help you track the vampire behind the disappearances and as an added bonus I’ll leave Domino. But if I win, you’ll stay and become my first court member. We can still track the vampire down, that’s a given. Either way you’ll still benefit in one fashion or another.”

“And what game will we be playing?”

“How’s hide and go seek? I know it’s a bit unfair since I know the city better than you, so we can keep tally at the fountain. Say, five minutes to hide and ten to seek? We’ll play ‘till dawn, so twelve rounds. No rooftops, no going into buildings, no turning into bats. Sound fair?” Jaden extended his hand to Jesse. His heart pounded in his chest. He couldn’t believe he was even considering it, but it was true. Jaden was the best bet of actually locating the vampire he was looking for, and even if he lost Jaden didn’t seem like that bad of a guy. He was inclined to take Jaden’s hand, so he did. A searing pain ran up his arm and radiated through his body. “The oath is bound. I’ll seek first.” He turned his back to Jesse, covering his eyes with his hands. “One…Two…Three…”

Jesse ran as fast as his legs could carry him. The people of Domino were depending on him to end their blight. He had to win. He felt a sort of obligation to rid the world of these vermin. Yet, there was something about Jaden Yuki that’d drawn him in way too far for a first encounter. His initial presence had felt intimidating, domineering, and had in an instant become soft and genuine. It felt so wrong to see any good in one of those filthy creatures of the night, but Jesse couldn’t help it. He could sense the overwhelming good nature of Jaden and it made him feel inclined to believe that this would be a fair game.

That was five minutes. Jesse tucked himself tight into an alleyway. He slowed his breathing, trying hard not to give himself away. The click of Jaden’s heels against the concrete filled every crevasse and made it impossible to know how close or far Jaden really was. The gentle glow of the moon and the harsh lights of the city around were the only means Jesse had of sight. He wished desperately for the warmth of the sun. This alley felt like static on his skin. The clicking finally stopped. He held his breath, shifting slightly back behind the boxes he was obscured by. “Found you!” Jaden smirked. He’d moved so fast he’d nearly materialized out of thin air. “Alright! One to nothin’! Better catch-up Jess, unless you secretly do want to be a vampire!” He stuck out his tongue past his sharp teeth before taking off down the alley. Jesse couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face. This was actually kind of fun. Jaden, as dangerous as he had the potential to be, actually was making this unfortunate situation fun.

He found Jaden easily, far too easily. He’d been out in the open, almost waiting for him. With each passing round Jaden found him with unfathomable ease and Jesse him with increasing difficulty. It all came down to the final round – Jaden’s six to Jesse’s five. It was Jesse’s turn to seek. “Good luck, Jess. I can’t wait to see how good you’ll look on the ceremonial altar for me!” He winked suggestively and, in a flash, he was gone. Jesse closed his eyes and willed the color from his face. He was a grown ass man. He could deal with comments like that! He could! He began his count.

There was breeze now that brushed and caressed his skin with an all-new chill. It made him feel uncertain. Could he really find Jaden? He had been getting harder and harder to find. If he failed to find him, he’d still finish the job he’d come to the city to do. The only difference was that he wouldn’t be leaving. His heart fluttered in his chest. It was making him feel fuzzy to think about. He didn’t hate the idea; he hadn’t hated the idea from the start actually. If he had, he wouldn’t’ve agreed to play. Hell, he didn’t even hate vampires down to his core like most of his friends did. He’d mostly joined to thanks to Jim’s glowing reference and the promise of traveling about. You had to dehumanize vampires to bring yourself to kill them. He’d gotten good at it and he loved to be good at something. He didn’t think now though that even if a good opportunity showed itself that he could go through killing Jaden. He’d done an excellent job at humanizing himself from the start to Jesse.

His counted ended and the final chase began. He only had until the sun rose now. Domino was huge and for once that evening, he actually felt defeated. Still, he pressed onwards and kept his search going. Every alley, every street, behind every garbage can and every car. It was like Jaden had disappeared entirely until finally he reached the first place he’d hidden. “Jaden! I know you’re there!” Jesse bluffed. He heard a chuckle come from behind him and flipped around. Jaden was so close, leaning in towards him.

“So close and yet so far.” Jaden said, gesturing over his shoulder. The sun had already begun to slink over the horizon. He felt Jaden’s thin but strong arms wrap around him and a swirling vortex of black consumed them.

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lilallama · 3 years

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Bunny Killer [teaser?]

Pairing: Yandere reader × Namjoon × Yandere Jeongguk

Genre: Yandere/Serial killer au

Warnings: mention of serial killer! Jk, kidnapping, obsessiveness, delusional behaviour and polyamorous relationships

[A/n: Maybe I'll make it a series. Idk yet. This is kinda like the prologue. Request are open for bk!Y/n, bk!Jeongguk and bk!Namjoon.]

》

In the dark of the night, a shadow rushed through the dimly lit streets. The infamous bunny killer, a ruthless serial killer whose face was always obscured by a rabbit mask, was stalking another victim. A young college student, on his way home from the library. The ringing of his phone echoing through the abandoned alley he found himself in.

"Hey, Ma."

'Namjoon? Are you alright?' His mother sounded panicked.

"Of course, Ma. I was just at the library. I'm on my way home now."

'You have to be careful. That damned killer is going around town, have you heard?'

"I have. It's all over the news. But don't worry, I'll be careful."

'You better be. I couldn't-' The shadow slammed Namjoon onto the ground. The young man could feel his heart racing. Despite all his efforts, he could not get the stranger off him. In a matter of seconds, a cloth was pressed over his mouth and nose. The intense stanch of chemicals filling his airways. He started feeling dizzy as his body went numb. The shadow softly stroke through his hair. "Shh... Everything's alright. You're safe now." Gradually Namjoon blacked out listening to the humming of the strange person.

》

The first thing Namjoon took notice of were the soft sheets and bed he rested on. If he was truly kidnapped like he remembered, why would they let him rest on something so comfortable? For a second, the thought of it all being a mere nightmare ran through his head. Only to them get crushed by the intense migraine he felt. A ringing sounded in his ears as he stayed dead silent, not moving an inch or even daring to open his eyes. He heard a door opening and presumably two people walking towards him.

"He's still sleeping. Jeongguk, I told you to be gentle with our angel!" A hand reached out and caressed his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Y/n... Please don't be upset with me. I was just so excited! His mother just wouldn't shut up and it made me so angry." Namjoon recognised that voice. It was his kidnapper.

"I know, bunny, I know. I'm not upset with you. But you need to learn how to control your anger. What if you had seriously harmed our love?" He could not tell, but his kidnapper looked horrified at the idea.

He carefully stroked through Namjoon's hair again, "I'm sorry, beloved. I didn't mean to hurt you, really." He sounded regretful, borderline ashamed. But their conversation only confused Namjoon more. He was sure he never met either of them, yet they talked in such a loving manner of him. Their voices sounded completely unfamiliar to him, so it couldn't be a crazy ex or something.

The room was now silent. The only thing Namjoon could hear was the pounding of his heart. He tried so hard to keep his breath regular, in hopes of fooling them into leaving again. But neither made a move to go anytime soon.

"He's so beautiful."

The unknown voice chuckled, "He is, isn't he?" They stayed silent for a few seconds, "Jeongguk, be a dear and fetch our love some water and a cool-pack."

"Yes, Y/n!" The hand running through his hair disappeared, he heard rushed footsteps and a door opening and closing. Then everything fell silent again.

Namjoon could feel the eyes of the other person practically burning through his skin with their gaze. "I'll be right back, dearest." The stranger pressed a kiss on his forehead. He had to use all of his self-control to not flinch away. He heard the person walking towards the door, open and close it again.

Instinctively he let out a relieved sigh. Namjoon opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings. A few white spots appeared in this field of vision, causing him to rub his eyes while groaning. His migraine was still just as horrendous.

"I knew you were awake." The froze in shock. His eyes metting with the ones of the stranger. They didn't leave the room. How could he have been so stupid? How could he not have seen them? "You're so incredibly smart. Our little bunny was definitely convinced. But you can't fool me, dearest. Your breath was uneven." Namjoon was terrified. What would they do to him now? His stomach twisted as he thought of all the possibilities what would happen to him now. But worse was the thought of what they have done to him already. The stranger now stood next to Namjoon, who stayed paralysed by fear. They observe him for a second. "We haven't done anything, if that's what you're concerned about." Namjoon calmed down a bit, before remembering that it still didn't rule out the possibility of them doing something soon. "Calm down, love. I know this is all very scary for you, but we're not going to hurt you or anything." They smiled widely. Just then the door opened again.

"I'm back!" A young man with black hair and tattoos entered the room with a cool-pack and a glass of water. He looked like the type of people Namjoon was always told to avoid. The druggies, the bad influence, the rebels. Namjoon and the boy make eye contact. Before he had the time to process what happened, his kidnapper let the cool-pack fall to the floor and hurried to get to him.

"My angel! My love, you're awake! I missed you so much. Your eyes are so beautiful!" Namjoon was absolutely terrified, but the other person just laughed. "Kookie, you're overwhelming him." The boy snapped his head towards them. "O-oh no! I'm so sorry! I was just so excited to see you again and- and I wasn't thinking. Please forgive me?"

"Don't worry, bunny. I'm sure our love will forgive you." The person gave the other a kiss. The young man practically melted in their embrace. "I love you! Both of you!" "We know, we know. Now, how about we introduce ourselves first."

During the entire exchange, Namjoon was completely lost. Who were these people? Why did they say they love him? Does he know them? They couldn't have been hook ups, he doesn't go to parties. Why was he there? And what the fuck is wrong with these two? "Love, pleasure to finally meet you face-to-face. My name is Y/n and this is Jeongguk. We're your lovers." Wait, what?

"What?" Namjoon's voice was rough and groggy. His throat felt dry and sore, causing him to start coughing violently. Jeongguk panicked and quickly brought the glass of water to him. He wanted to refuse but the water was practically shoved down his throat.

"Are you okay, love?" Y/n asked, petting his back. "What do you mean 'Lovers'?" They just chuckled at his confusion. "Silly, you know exactly what the term lovers means." "I do, but I don't know you." Jeongguk eyed him so such intense love that it truly scared Namjoon, "You don't have to be shy, angel. We still love you, even if you don't know us."

That was the strangest part....

[To be continued...?]

#yandere bts #yandere jungkook #yandere reader #yandere reader × rm #yandere jk × rm #yandere jk × yandere reader #polyamorous yandere relationship #bk reader #bk namjoon #bk jeongguk

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here4theheartbreak · 3 years

Text

My Tentacle Romance (ksj)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationship: hamster hybrid!Seokjin x Eldritch Horror!Reader

Genre: smut, pwp | Rating: Explicit | Word Count: ~7.2k

Summary: You didn’t mean to scare him. You didn’t to fall in love with him, either.

Tags: agender reader, gender neutral reader, tentacle monster, first kiss, meet weird, and they were roommates, getting together, tentacles, tentacle monster, tentacle dick, come inflation, come swallowing, excessive cum, gagging, choking, dirty talk, oviposition, multiple penetration, multiple orgasms, switch!Jin, switch!reader, mild bondage (but with tentacles)

A/N: This fic was written for @aroseforyoongi both filling a request from my 2k followers event (”you need to stop pulling my tail”) and for Eva’s birthday! Happy birthday, ilysm!!

A/N 2: The banner for this fic was made by the awesome @i-live-so-i-love - thank you so much!!!

The first time Seokjin saw you, he was terrified. Reasonably, you assumed; most people would have that reaction if a humanoid tentacle monster oozed from underneath their bed the first week in their new home. He didn’t need to throw that stupid book at you though. Books really hurt when the spine struck a sensitive tentacle tip. He also didn’t need to scream the way he did. Your ears ached for an hour after. You didn’t know a human male could make that sound. Well… Humanoid.

He had looked human, at first glance. And then you saw his ears. They were large and round and most definitely not human. And his face – with a streak of light tan fur over his nose and a smattering of whiskers on his cheeks – You’d found yourself rooming with a hybrid of some sort. Which was okay, hybrids scared just as easily as humans, in your experience. But you were curious what kind of hybrid he was. Not that he would tell you, what with all the book throwing and screeching he was doing.

A few weeks later, you attempted to meet your reluctant roommate once more. You snuck out from under the bed once more and peeked over the bed, watching the handsome humanoid. He was lying on his bed, reading. At least it looked like he was attempting to read. He was squinting and turning the book this way and that. You spotted his glasses a few feet away and slid a tentacle out, snagging them and bringing them to the bed. You dropped them next to him, and he startled again, head whipping around.

“Don’t scream,” you said, plugging your ears in preparation. He put his glasses on and drew in a gasp of breath, mouth open to scream. “I said don’t,” you pleaded, one tentacle whipping out to cover his mouth. He promptly bit it. You screamed, that time. Who the hell thought biting a slimy black tentacle was a good plan?

You yanked the tentacle back, holding it in your hand as it throbbed. “Why would you bite me, you fucking lunatic?!”

He spluttered, scrambling back into the far corner of his bed. “What are you?!”

“You don’t go around biting people, Jesus Christ, are you an animal?” You snapped, crawling the rest of the way out from under the bed.

He squeaked, covering his mouth with both hands. You could see his chest rising and falling rapidly, and hear his heart racing.

“Dude. Calm down. You’re gonna have a heart attack.” You glanced down at yourself, chuckling a little. “Just calm down,” you repeated. You shuddered a little; this was never an entirely pleasant experience. Bit by bit, you withdrew the multitude of tentacles from various parts of your body back into your skin. Your magic allowed you to appear in somewhat human clothing, simple pants and a shirt, though your left arm remained rather… Tentacle-y no matter how hard you tried to change it. “Is this better?”

His breathing seemed to slow a little. “W—What are you?” He asked again, letting his hands drop from his mouth.

“I’m ___. I’m the Eldritch God that lives under your bed.” You grimaced, looking around. “What is that horrendous sound?” You asked. You spotted a radio on the dresser nearby, blasting some male voice screeching and snarling about dancing to the tune of someone’s death, loving, or something—A tentacle shot from your back and slapped the pause button on the noise. When the room was silent, you turned back to Jin and stuck your right hand out for him to shake, holding the tentacle arm your back.

“Eldritch God?” He repeated. “Also, that was a good song.”

“Yep. I’ve lived in this area for hundreds of years. Scaring humans or… Hybrids. Just generally enjoying life. I’m a low-level god. Pretty young, so I just kinda have to find stuff to do until the end of the world. Scaring people is fun. Never had one bite me though… I won’t comment on the… musical taste.”

When he didn’t move, you blinked at him. “Don’t your kind shake hands? What’s your name? What are you?”

“Th—I— Jin. S—Seokjin,” he finally spluttered. “Kim Seokjin.”

You dropped your hand, realizing he wasn’t going to shake it. “Okay, Kim Seokjin. What are you? Those ears – Are you a mouse?”

“Hamster,” Jin murmured. His ear twitched and he pawed at it.

He seemed to be relaxing a little. You approached slowly, raising your human shaped hand in surrender when he pressed himself against the wall.

“Look, I live here, I’m not leaving,” you said simply. “This is my apartment!”

“I’ve lived here since this place was built. I think it’s technically my apartment,” you clarified. “Just because I don’t hand the humans money doesn’t mean I don’t live here.” You pouted a little as you spoke, wrapping your arms over your chest. “I don’t want you to leave. Humans need a place to sleep too. I just… Want to work something out.”

“Sure, leave.” Jin snapped, his whiskers twitching madly. “You smell like water and… Storms.”

“It’s the Eldritch in me, sorry.” You smiled a little sheepishly. “I’m not leaving. Normally I’d get my kicks scaring the shit out of the humans in this place, but I’ve never had one that had the gall to bite me. So I wanna work something out with you.”

“I’m a rodent hybrid. You scare us, we get nippy. Especially when we can’t see.” Jin crossed his arms over his own chest, mouth thinning into an annoyed line.

“How blind are you?”

“Pretty blind.”

“I can’t see in the sunshine,” you said.

“It hurts my eyes. They don’t dilate so well.” Jin touched his glasses. “It’s why the curtains are always shut.”

“I appreciate it, honestly. I can be in the sun, but it doesn’t feel good to bump into everything. Plus with tentacles… A little more of a hazard.”

“Those were tentacles…” Jin’s face contorted into an awful grimace. He slapped his hand over his mouth. “Oh God – I bit that thing. Was that like biting your dick? In the pornos—”

You truly couldn’t help it. You really tried, but you had never seen a human look so horrified. You doubled over in laughter, holding your stomach as you did.

When you were able to right yourself, Jin was still staring at you, the horrified expression now blending with a shocked one.

“Sorry, sorry,” you said between gasps of breath. “No, no you didn’t bite any of my genital tentacles; it’s more like an arm. They look similar though so I get the confusion.”

Jin’s eyes bulged comically. “Y—You have more than one? Are you…” He hesitated, seemingly searching for the right way to phrase it. “Boy?”

“I’m an Eldritch horror.”

“Right, but… Genital tentacles. Plural? You don’t…” He motioned to your crotch area.

You chuckled. “I existed before the concept of gender and sex was even a flicker in the DNA sequence of the somewhat sentient slimes that would someday become your species. I’m a god, Seokjin.”

“But you look human,” Jin mumbled. You noticed his cheeks and ears had begun to take on a reddish hue. It was kind of cute.

“Sure I do. I like this shape. But it’s not my true form.”

“What is?”

“Your eyes would burn from your skull and your brain would melt into sludge if you saw my true shape even in your peripherals. Why are you so pink?”

Jin blinked. “What?”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken to a human, or a hybrid,” you explained. “I seem to have forgotten their ways a bit. And most of the time the color they change around me is a paler hue. Or purple, occasionally, when one has choked on something and been unable to breathe…”

Jin swallowed audibly. “Ch—Choke on something?”

He touched his mouth, his cheeks brightening more. You could hear his heart thudding rapidly. That was a familiar scent… You moved forward a little, surprised that he didn’t shy away, and sniffed. Oh. Oh. You smirked.

“Hm…”

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” You backed up, letting him relax a little. “Well, I’m going back to my space. Perhaps next time I come out, you won’t screech at me.” You sank down and Jin scrambled up.

“Wait!” He reached out, touching your shoulder before you slid under the bed. His hands were firm. And big. You felt your own body begin to warm up.

“Yes?”

“What is your space? Do you just… Live under my bed?”

“In a way. I live in the depths of the shadows under your bed that allow my form to transcend the plane of this existence and rest in an area of my own design.”

Jin blinked owlishly at you. “Uh…”

“Portal. To another dimension. Under bed.” You spoke in simpler terms, assuming his humanoid mind was unable to compute. He nodded slowly, ears twitching.

“So when you’re in there… Can you… See up here? What I am doing?”

“If I choose.”

“Well, don’t choose.”

You blinked, scowling a little at the firmness of his tone. What did he mean by that? Was he intending to tell someone about you? That would be a problem. Most humanoids and humans you scared were too terrified to have a conversation about what you were. People would think they were nuts. But this one… Seemed different. He smelled different, that was for sure. Almost like he was interested in you.

“Well, I’m going to go now. I’ll see you again.”

“Knock on the wall before you come up next time. It’s scary when you just appear like that.”

“Right. Bad eyes.” You smiled at him. “I’ll knock.”

You sank back down on the floor sliding fluidly under the bed, oozing into the shadows. You heard the bed creak before you fully disappeared and peeked out, a simple black mass with red eyes. You met Jin’s wide gaze and smiled… Not that he knew it was a smile … Before disappearing into the shadows.

You tried to rest. You really did. Floating along in a sea of nothingness, the distant screams of a billion galaxies colliding, dying, and reforming all at once. It was normally a lullaby to you. But tonight, your mind wandered. Not to the murder and bloodshed of a million cruel lesser Gods, or the agonizing scream of terror as someone is riddled with nightmares from your very presence… But rather… Of Jin. Seokjin. The hamster boy Jin. His ears looked so soft, you wished you could pet them. And his big, dark eyes… That soft smattering of fur. The balls it took to bite you.

Heaving a sigh, you unwound yourself from your tentacles and drifted back up to the space where your world connected with his. You slipped out from the shadows, peeking out from under the bed. It was dark in his room – he must be sleeping. You could smell him above you, that musky fur scent, the bitter scent of human- sweat, the rich scent of sex. A pang shot through you. Sex. Was he mating with someone?

As if on command, the bed creaked, and Jin whimpered softly. You could smell no one else, only him. In the silence, you could hear a slick squelching noise, and a soft, electronic babble from a device on the bed. Curiosity piqued, you slid further out, peeking up over the edge of the bed. Jin was stretched out on top of the covers, naked. You could see a smattering of the same creamy light fur on his chest and belly. His fist was sliding rapidly up and down his hard cock, glistening with lube and precome. His head was turned, earphones over his round, twitching ears. You peeked a little further, spotting the laptop on his bedside stand. The video on it was some sort of cartoon. A male figure was being suspended in the air by a multitude of tentacles, his ass being spread open as one drove into him in an obscene manner. His mouth was filled as well, tears streaming down his face.

You couldn’t deny that the video was quite attractive. You glanced back at Jin and smirked. So that smell earlier was arousal. You were right. Hm. Well the feeling was mutual… Why should he have to do this alone?

Slow and careful, not wanting to terrify your skittish roommate, you slid one tentacle up over the bed. Moving slowly, you reached the laptop and poked the pause button. Jin’s hand hesitated and he scowled, eyes widening when he spotted the tentacle on the keyboard. He looked down at the foot of the bed. You grinned and waved another tentacle at him.

“What the fuck?!” Jin howled, yanking his blanket over his lap and jerking the headphones from his head. The fabric was raised ever so slightly where his erection was, doing nothing to really hide it from you.

“Sorry,” you apologized, “you were masturbating to tentacles…” Jin reached out and snapped the laptop shut, nearly pinching the tip of your tentacle in the process.

“So what? It’s my room!”

“It’s a room we share,” you corrected, moving out from the bed and coming around. “I was worried you were going to tell someone about me with how determined you were that I didn’t come back through… And I couldn’t stop thinking about you in other ways, so I was going to come back to talk and… I stumbled onto this.”

Jin remained silent, his lips pinched in annoyance. You smirked and moved closer to the bed, noting that he didn’t cringe away this time.

“So that scent from earlier was arousal.”

“What scent?”

“Oh, I smell you very well. When I talked about choking humans… I smelled what seemed like human arousal. But I figured I was just imagining it. Why would a pretty humanoid like you be aroused by me?” You reached out with a tentacle, brushing the smooth skin of Jin’s chin. His eyes fluttered shut.

“I’m interested in you too, you know. I’ve never had a human so brave face me down. I admire that.” You hesitated and looked at his lap, the blanket still lifted. “Shall I help with that?”

“Wh—” Jin’s eyes snapped open. “What? No, please, I’m so ashamed,” he lamented, setting a pillow over the spot.

“Why are you ashamed? You are decently endowed for a humanoid of your height and weight ratio. The phallus seemed healthy and firm, and I sense no chemical influences so it can be safely assumed that you can get and maintain an erection capable of breeding, with no help.”

Jin’s cheeks reddened more and more as you spoke.

“Please!” He cried, waving his hands in front of him. “Stop talking about it like that.”

“Oh.” You frowned a little. “I suppose that wouldn’t be arousing for you… If you were wanting me to speak in a way that aroused you… I suppose I should rather say that your cock is beautiful… It looks so hard and I’d love to make you come…”

You heard Jin’s heartrate pick up and couldn’t help but smirk. “Would you like that, Jin? For me to make you come?”

Jin swallowed hard and nodded, meeting your dark eyes.

A tentacle shot out, knocking the pillow out of the way. It yanked the blanket down, revealing Jin’s cock, still mostly hard despite the conversation.

You moved down to the foot of the bed, relaxing and allowing more tentacles to emerge. Jin’s eyes grew wide as you did, darting from side to side as he seemed to try to process.

“You enjoy this,” you said. It was a question you already knew the answer to.

“Yes.”

God, that felt good to hear. You slid a group of tentacles up over Jin’s chest, feeling the smooth skin and delicate hairs. Your touch left goosebumps in its wake, and Jin shuddered softly.

You used another set of tentacles to push open his thick, muscular thighs. You made a soft noise of surprise. At the base of his spine, visible when he spread his legs, was a tiny tuft of fur, and a fuzzy tail. Only about two inches, thin and blunted, it was potentially the most adorable thing you had seen on a humanoid being in all your time living with them.

More tentacles to lift Jin’s hips off the bed.

“Oh my—Your tail,” you commented helplessly. You reached out with your human-ish hand and grabbed it, petting the soft fur above it. Jin’s entire body went tense, and you watched his cock twitch. You cocked a brow. “Oh…”

Curious, you tugged the tail, ever so lightly, and Jin grunted. You pulled again, with the same response. A third time, and he moaned softly.

“Please—Stop pulling my tail,” he pleaded.

“Why? Does it hurt?”

“N—No.”

You smirked. “So then, it’s good…” You tugged once more and Jin’s back arched off the tentacles suspending it.

“Please—” He whined.

“Would you like my help, Seokjin? I could make you feel quite good.”

Jin huffed, swallowing hard. “Th—This is so strange.”

“Mhm. I’ve never, if I may be blunt, seen such a willing person.” You let one thin tentacle circle around the tight rim of Jin’s hole, leaving a trail of slick fluid behind. “I’d love to see just how much you want.”

“Everything,” Jin confessed, his body relaxing against your tentacles.

“What was that?”

“I want everything…” Jin opened his eyes, blinking a few times before focusing on you. “If you want it, I—” He nodded. He let his thighs fall open further, smirking. “I want it.”

Excitement coursed through your body. He was so willing, so aroused. It was the most intriguing and exciting thing you’d done in a millennia.

You pushed the leaking, swollen tip of the tentacle into Jin’s tight heat, barely able to resist moaning. His rim clamped down around your tentacle like a vise, coaxing a little of your warm slick to squirt from the tip. You were gonna wreck this pretty rodent.

You drove the tentacle deeper into him, smirking when you reached a resistance. Jin whimpered, biting his bottom lip.

“Deep—“ he whined.

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Yes—” Jin groaned. You pushed your second tentacle in; this one a little thinner and slicker. Jin shouted, his back arching. The movement tightened the skin of his stomach. You gasped, spotting the barely there swell. You worked the thinner tentacle up to where the first was and relaxed, letting it balloon and expand. The swell in his belly grew, and you groaned, reaching forward and touching it. You could feel yourself in his body.

Jin tried to lay back on the bed, hiding the beautiful swell. You reached out with two of your tentacles, catching him and arching his back once more.

“I like this,” you growled.

Jin sobbed brokenly, and you worried for a moment you’d hurt him. But his cock was hard and leaking, and his face was twisted up in a grin.

“___— Please...”

“I’ll take care of you,” you promised him. You wrapped a tentacle around his neck, letting your suckers rub over the smooth skin there. So easily torn. Jin’s cock twitched on his belly and he moaned. You began to squeeze his throat, ever so gently. You relaxed your grip and prodded his plush, swollen lips with the flattened tip of another tentacle. the movement left behind a glossy, oil slick sheen.

“No biting this one, Jin,” you warned. He huffed and rolled his eyes, opening his mouth. You slid the tentacle in, sighing as Jin eagerly lapped at it sucking softly. You stroked the smooth flesh of his tongue with your tip before sliding deeper. You bumped his uvula, smirking when he coughed.

“Open wide.”

Jin did his best to obey, and you pushed in, nudging past his tonsils and down his throat. His eyes bulged and he swallowed, squeezing your tentacle delightfully. Cool air whistled past it as he struggled to breathe.

“You liked being choked, didn’t you?” You cooed, squeezing his throat once more.

Jin’s cock throbbed on his stomach and began to shoot come onto his belly. His eyes rolled back and he gagged hard, moan muffled. His ass clenched rhythmically around your tentacles, milking fluid from them.

You couldn’t help but laugh even as you moaned from the stimulation. Two suckered tentacles slid up, rubbing through the hot come on his belly and up to tease his hard nipples. Jin sobbed what sounded like your name, but you couldn’t be sure. You allowed the rest of your tentacles to surround Jin, touching and rubbing and leaving little streaks of oily slick on his smooth, clean skin. The one that started this all, wrapped firmly around his dainty tail, yanked once more.

You’d been saving the best for last. A tentacle no thicker than his pinkie wound up his leg. You could feel his muscles quivering from the overstimulation, his breath whistling around your tentacle firmly lodged down his throat, his eyes already rolling back. Up, through the mat of curly dark pubic hair, around his still hard shaft, stroking and squeezing. It was so warm and smooth. Your mouth watered. You’d have to taste it one of these days. And finally his tip.

The tentacle released and touched the tip of his cock. Jin’s eyes widened, still somewhat unfocused. Slow and steady, you let the tip your tentacle open, sliding down, down, swallowing Jin’s cock.

You moaned, quivering as you were filled with his thick girth. It had been a century since you let something penetrate you in this way. His cock was perfect, solid and warm and hit every single spot inside your channel just right.

Jin reached out with the hand not being held by a tentacle and grabbed his cock, rubbing his fingers lightly over the smooth outside of your tentacle. He began to stroke, up and down, firmly, jerking off with your body.

You moaned brokenly, head falling back. Your tentacles caught you as you sagged, legs spread. A pressure built deep in your guts as he used your channel to jerk off, sucking the tentacle in his mouth and clenching his ass around the ones inside him. He knew exactly how to drive you wild. This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair— He was just a human—

You screamed his name as you came around his cock, squirting thick and wet. Jin moaned, gagging hard when the tentacle in his throat swelled a bit.

He continued to jerk off with your tentacle, his eyes losing their focus once more. He was going to come again, you could feel it. The wet squelch of your released as he used your hole filled the room. It was music to your ears.

A tentacle whipped forward and grabbed his wrist, yanking it off his cock and pinning it to the bed. You wrapped another tentacle around his cock, squeezing yourself against him as you began to jerk it.

“You’re gonna come in me, Jin,” you cooed.

He tried to nod.

“I’m going to come in you.” His eyes rolled back, a full body shudder making you moan as well. Enough foreplay.

The tentacles holding Jin’s arms and legs went taut, pulling his arms above his head and forcing his legs open wide. You jammed a third, slender tentacle up his gaping asshole for good measure, shuddering at the impossible tightness of it.

At once, every tentacle buried inside your new humanoid plaything began to thrust, the room filled with the obscene glugging noises of his throat and the wet squelch of his ass as you added more natural lubricant. You were still pumping his cock with your other tentacle, squeezing that and his throat playfully.

Jin came first again - not that you were surprised. You moaned as he spilled ropes of come into your channel, swelling it a bit. You continued to milk him with the slender tentacle and the one wrapped around it. Another tentacle slipped up to play with his balls, urging every drop of come out of them and into you. You moaned softly at that, smiling down at him. Time to return the favor.

You began to fuck his throat hard and fast, mouth hanging open in pleasure as he choked on you. Jin’s eyes screwed shut and you growled. “Look at me, pretty.”

He struggled to do so, drool and your own slick bubbling up around the tentacle in his throat. His throat was painfully tight.

“You wanted me to choke you. Is this how you wanted it, Jin?” You purred.

Jin nodded, gagging and coughing hard. His eyes rolled back in his head, cock dribbling once more into the slick channel of your tentacle.

“That’s it… Give it all to me, baby. I’ll give you what you want too. Swallow it.”

Your body tensed, a knot of pleasure squeezing tight and drawing all of your nerves to a near painful edge. The tentacle began to spurt down Jin’s throat. He coughed hard, some of the dark fluid escaping around his mouth and nose. A tentacle caught the back of his head, holding it as you pumped your release down his throat.

You threw your head back, moaning loudly. At the same time, you continued to fuck his ass, your secondary climax nearing.

Some of your smaller tentacles that you’d been using to tease his tail and skin began to spurt as well, streaking thick, hot ropes of dark, oily release over his heaving chest and tearstained face. And over his tense stomach, now swelling with amount of fluid you were pumping down his throat.

Your second climax ripped a scream from your throat, surprising you. The tentacles buried in Jin’s ass began to spurt, shudders wracking your body as you filled his with release.

A pressure grew in the base of your groin and you whimpered. With fuzzy eyes, you watched the base of the tentacle swell just a little larger than a chicken egg, before moving down the length of the tentacle. And another… Another… Seven total eggs made their way down your length. The first caught on Jin’s clenched rim, making him sob wet and broken around your tentacle.

“Shh… Let me in,” you whispered.

Jin seemed to try to relax. You shuddered and strained, helping work the thick egg into Jin’s body. It slipped past the rim and down the inserted part of your tentacle. You moaned and shuddered when it released. Time to repeat. Again, and again, you worked the eggs into Jin, tiny aftershocks of orgasm washing over you each time your tentacle ejected one.

Jin’s stomach was swollen with come and eggs, and his body was lax, eyes half closed and glassy with exhaustion.

You pulled out slowly, smirking a little at the little rivers of come that followed both from his ruined ass and his mouth. Carefully, you laid him back onto the bed, still cocooning him with your tentacles as you crawled onto the bed and kissed his sweaty cheek.

“Still with me?”

“Mhm…” Jin touched his stomach. “Eggs?” He croaked, as if speaking through a mouth full of caramel.

“Yes. They will dissolve harmlessly within you in a few hours, don’t be alarmed. I should have warned you.”

“No, not at all… It’s good. I liked it… I feel so full…”

“You look absolutely ruined.”

Jin blinked tiredly at you, looking mildly concerned. You smirked and kissed his come stained lips. “It’s a beautiful look. We should get you cleaned up, shouldn’t we?” You sat up, your tentacles slinking back into your body. Jin reached out, grabbing one and holding onto it.

“Do you like being this way better?”

“I have no preference, but it’s more comfortable with some of them out,” you admitted. “I’m not used to using these.” You held up your human-ish hands.

“Leave them out then. I like them.”

“They don’t frighten you?”

Jin’s ear twitched. “No. Not now.”

A smile crossed your face before you could stop it. “I’ve never really let a human look at me so long.”

Jin ran his hand up your tentacle, his soft skin tickling and warming you. “I’m so different from you. Why did this happen?”

You hesitated at his question, unsure how to answer. Jin smiled when you did.

“I’m not saying I’m mad or… I dislike it. But the problem is… I’m human. At least human adjacent. And the way I feel emotions… It’s strong but I don’t know how your kind does. I just…” Jin frowned at a spot in the corner, clearly deep in thought. “I guess I just want to know what this is going to be before I let myself get too attached.”

You chuckled a little. “This is absurd.”

“What is?” Jin’s face drooped.

“We’re having this deep conversation... While you’re lying on the bed naked and messy. Come on, let me clean you up. We’ll continue when we’re both a bit more put together.”

You scooped him up with your tentacles, laughing a little at his surprised shout. With minimal effort, you carried him out of the room and down the hall to where you knew the bathroom was located. Jin laughed, wiggling in the firm grip of your tentacles as you did.

“Aren’t I heavy?”

“Not really. Rather light, actually. Do you obtain ample caloric sustenance to maintain humanoid organ function?”

“Do… Do I what?”

“Eat. Enough food,” you supplied. You turned on the water of the bath with another tentacle, turning to face Jin, who was still firmly wrapped in your grip.

“Yes, I eat enough,” Jin huffed. “I’m a good weight.”

“You are certainly well built,” you agreed, letting your eyes roam Jin’s body. Even covered in the oil slick iridescence of your come… He really truly was stunning. Broad shoulders, firm chest, thigh, muscular thighs… Even with the tiny swell in his stomach where your eggs were slowly disintegrating… He likely drew the attention of anyone on the street.

“___...” Jin drifted off. “You’re staring.”

“I’m admiring,” you argued. “Do you have a human partner?”

“No. I’m single.”

“Why?”

Jin blinked, seeming surprised at the question. “I—I don’t know. I guess… Nobody’s ever really struck my fancy.”

“Why not?” You turned, reaching a tentacle out to test the water. Deeming it warm enough, you shifted, settling Jin into it.

“I have no idea. I guess I just know what I’m looking for.”

“And what’s that?”

“Join me?” Jin asked, shifting to sit in the tub and make space.

You let your tentacles disappear back into your body save for a dozen smaller ones, and stripped out of the clothing you’d donned. You crawled into the tub, sighing a little as the warm water lapped over your skin.

“I want someone who is there for me,” Jin continued after a moment. Someone who knows what I need both physically and emotionally, and someone who is willing to let me provide for them too. A give and take.”

“Do you desire offspring?” You reached out and snagged a washcloth, wetting it and adding soap. You began to wash Jin’s skin clean.

“Someday, maybe. Not now. I am young, I wanna use that youth.” Jin shifted, sighing. “I like you, ___.”

“I know you do. And for some bizarre reason… I rather like you too.” You sighed a little, frowning at the confession. It was the truth. That much you knew. But why did it feel so scary?

“Bizarre? Have you never liked a human before? Or a… Hybrid?”

“No.” You continued to wash his shoulders and back. “I tend to just scare the pants off them and call it good.”

Jin laughed a little. “Well you got my pants off in some way, it just wasn’t by scaring me.”

“Oh, I scared you,” you argued, laughing as well. “You threw a book at my head.”

“A giant tentacle monster appeared in my room, of course I threw something at you.”

“You also bit me.”

“I’m starting to think you liked it.”

You paused, brows raising. “I guess… I sort of did.”

Jin’s smile faded a little, the laughter dying. “I asked you a question in the room, ___.”

“You did.”

“And you didn’t answer.”

“Because I didn’t know how to. I still don’t.”

“Do you have feelings? Like… Happiness or sadness or affection?”

You nodded. You sank down a little more in the tub, and Jin reached out, gently sliding his hands over your legs and tentacles where he could reach. “I do. I’m sure it’s slightly different but the result is the same. I do find you interesting, both physically and otherwise. I want to get to know you more, and spend time with you. Being on this plane of existence is… Different. I don’t normally do it, but I feel content to be in this form, because it means a chance to learn more about you. I’d watched you for a while before but… Face to face.”

“I understand.” Jin took the cloth and washed his face and ears. “So, you do like me then.”

You nodded once.

“And I like you,” Jin continued. He set the cloth in the water, using the tip of one finger to gently slide it back and forth.

“It would seem that way. For some strange reason.”

Jin smiled softly. He scooped up the cloth and ran it gently over one of your tentacles. The slightly rough texture sent shivers through your body, and you couldn’t stop the smile that formed.

“That feels nice.”

Jin shifted, the sound of the water sloshing in the small tub the only answer he gave you for the moment. The tub was truly too small for the both of you, but he was able to make it work, shifting over to settle closer. He used the cloth to wash over the exposed tentacles and the humanoid form of your body, meeting your gaze every few seconds. His ears were perked forward, nose and whiskers twitching.

You reached out with a free tentacle, stroking his back and running down to his ass. You touched his tail. The fur was soft and silky where it seemed to blend into his skin, and his tail was covered in the same soft down. It wiggled a little under the water and Jin made a small noise between a squeak and a sigh.

“Just don’t pull it,” he whispered.

“We know what that does. Is it difficult?” You asked. You let go of his tail in favor of stroking along his smooth back.

“Is what difficult?”

“You’re a hybrid. I know your kind is not common still. I’ve never seen one of your species specifically.”

“It can be. I’m a pretty timid animal by nature. So I used to get bullied. But I enjoy being different. In the long run. It’s what makes me who I am and I wouldn’t change that.”

“That’s admirable. You are a beautiful specimen.” When Jin frowned, you paused.

“Being. I don’t mean specimen as an insult.”

“I know,” Jin sighed, sitting back. He pulled his knees up to his chest. The air in the bathroom seemed to thicken a little, and you frowned. Though human emotions weren’t your forte, you could still sense enough of the shift in Jin to get it.

“I’ve upset you.”

“You haven’t. Not on purpose.” Jin rose and grabbed a towel, beginning to dry himself off. His stomach was back to normal, and it felt like all sense of afterglow had worn off. You followed suit, rising and opening the tub drain. As you stepped out of the tub, you allowed your powers to work, drying your body and re-clothing it instantly. As you did, Jin turned around, about to offer you a towel. His face drooped when he saw you clothed.

“Oh.” He pulled it back and looked at it for a moment before dropping it into the hamper and heading back toward the bedroom. You followed from a safe distance, unsure how to help the humanoid you’d found yourself so attached to.

When you reached the bedroom, you hesitated at the foot of the bed while Jin stripped the mattress, messy from your activities.

“Jin…”

He glanced at you, but said nothing. Instead he tossed the sheet into a hamper and went the closet, digging around to get a clean one. He hesitated, rubbing at the back of his ear.

“Jin.” You repeated yourself more firmly. He turned, his whiskers twitching.

“You’re not human.”

“No, of course I’m not.”

“Even with the… The tentacles. It’s easy to forget. You look humanoid.”

You nodded.

“But then you do something like… Like what you did in the bathroom or you call me a specimen like I’m so different and I just—I like you, ___. But can you like me? Do you want to get to know me and maybe be… Something more?”

“Of course I do, Jin,” you answered. And the reality of it was – you were being honest. You stepped forward, reaching out with your tentacles to pull him closer. When he was near enough, you wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling his neck. “I want to know you. You’re the first human I’ve ever wanted to be around like this. I know we’re different… I’m sorry I’ve upset you. I don’t mean to.”

“I’m not upset, ___. I just know things are… Difficult.”

“They don’t need to be.”

You stepped back and shifted a little, the tentacles sliding into your body. You changed your clothing with a simple thought into something a little baggier, pulling your left arm more out of view in the fabric. “I can look human. I can be anything you need to make you comfortable.”

Jin pouted a little, his plush bottom lip sliding out. “But this isn’t you. I don’t want you to change. I like you.” He pushed the sleeve up and grabbed your tentacled arm. “I like all of you. If you meet my friends, of course… This works, but… When it’s me. I just want you to be yourself. As much as you can be.”

“I don’t frighten you? Make you feel different?”

“You do.” Jin shrugged. “But that can be okay.” He sighed softly and reached up, stroking your cheek. The motion was unfamiliar to you, but not unwelcomed. You could feel the calluses on the pads of his thumbs from use, hear his pulse throbbing softly against his wrist, feel the brush of his fingers against the baby hairs on your current form’s face. It was soothing. Your eyes fluttered shut and you smiled a little.

“Do that again…” You whispered when Jin pulled his hand away. He repeated the motion, and then on the other side, cupping your face in his hands.

“___.”

You opened your eyes, surprised to see him so close to you, his dark gaze trained on yours. “Have you ever been kissed?”

“No.”

“Never? Wh—”

“It’s never really come up,” you admitted.

“Well… I’m going to kiss you, okay?”

“O—Okay.”

Jin closed the gap between your faces, tilting his head a little as his eyes closed. His lips pressed against yours, soft and silky. You could feel his breath tickling your cheek, and you giggled a little.

Jin pulled back, a smile of confusion brightening his face. “What are you laughing at?”

“Humans do this a lot?” You asked. “I’m sorry, it feels funny,” you laughed a little.

Jin laughed too, nodding. “They do. It’s an affection thing… But now that I think about it, you are right, it’s kinda weird.”

“It’s cute,” you said, reaching up and touching his cheek. “I don’t hate it. I’ll do it if you like it. But know I might laugh every time you do.”

Jin nodded, kissing you again quickly. “It’s okay. You have a delightful laugh. I want to hear it more…” He sighed softly, seeming to search your face for something unknown.

You remained quiet, letting him look. Being honest, it gave you a chance to really look at him. Humans – even humanoid hybrids like Seokjin… Were so simple. Their genetic makeup was easily replicated, reproduced, altered. You could reach out with your true self and shatter his genome sequence. You could change him completely – turn him into a hideous monster, or a beautiful human, devoid of any rodent features. You could kill him, or make him live a thousand years longer. Simple creatures. Yet there was one thing that even you – with all your age and knowledge… Couldn’t master.

Their minds.

Sure, you could scare or arouse one, you could tweak simple emotions, but not for long. They always compensated. And each one compensated differently. Some coped, some panicked, some lost their minds. The answer to the human equation had long eluded you. Not that you’d bothered to care much before now. Before this humanoid being had blazed into your existence. And now… You found yourself caring, but not to overpower or control humans. But to make the one that was offering himself to you… Happy. The feeling was foreign. You didn’t want to scare or change or fiddle with this one. You just wanted to be with him.

Cautiously, you reached your hand up, letting your fingers brush over his whiskers, then up, over his large ears, covered in soft, fur. They twitched, as did Jin’s nose, and you smiled.

“Do you eat?” Jin asked suddenly.

“Eat?”

“Yeah, like food. Burgers or rice or a steak…”

“I am capable of it, yes. I can almost perfectly mimic a humanoid existence in this form.”

“Wanna get a midnight snack?”

“Shouldn’t you sleep? Humanoids need an ample number of hours of sleep per night in order to maintain proper f—”

“You’re worth a night of no sleep,” Jin cut you off.

“I—I am?”

Jin grinned broadly. “Of course you are. I want to learn more about you. I want to spend more time with you. Do you have to… Go back? To your… Space, I guess?”

“Not with any pressing need. It simply exists because I’ve created it.”

“I want to know more about it. More about what you can create.” Jin took your hand, and your tentacle. “Everything.”

“There is far too much to tell.”

“Then we’ll just have to spend more time together. Is that alright?”

“It is.” You felt the smile spreading across your face before you could stop it.

What a human response. Could spending time around this human make you more of one? The thought would have been horrifying to you a month ago. Now… Looking at Jin’s bright gaze, and broad smile… Maybe a little humanity was exactly what you needed.

One tentacle drifted out and over to the radio on Jin’s dresser, poking the play button. The same male voice from your meeting earlier in the day filled the air, though it was an entirely different song now.

“You’ll never make me leave, I wear this on my sleeve…”

Jin’s eyes darted to the radio before landing back on your face. “I thought this was horrible noise?” He asked, a grin causing his cheeks to fill out adorably.

“Give me a better cause to lead…”

“I can learn to like it. I want to. For you.” You closed the space between your faces this time, kissing Jin’s soft mouth gently.

“Give me a reason to believe…”

#thebtswritersclub #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #reader insert #seokjin smut #bts x reader #mywriting #kim seokjin #seokjin

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evamaddison0 · 2 years

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Her Mistake that she'll regret.

Me and savanna are sisters. Twin sisters even though we are twin sisters we we're very different.

She was the popular one meanwhile I was just a messager to people that wants to be friends with her or even a messager for confession for her.

She was very nice when we still had our mother but then mom had cancer that caused her horrendous death, ever since my sister rarely talks to me other than helping her with her homework.

But It didn't matter, I still loved her for the way she is even though she bad talks me behind her friend. That was probably just jokes.. Yeah, jokes.

We did have a father but he's always working after my mother's death, I don't even know where he is. But he sents us money for food and stuff.

Anyways even though my family was all sort of a mess I still love them, Family first of course.

Present day:

(Name) was pretty a loner and her sister savanna was the extrovert of the family she always hangs out with the boys.

But (Name) Didn't really care for that stuff, but she always had a crush on this guy she thought he was perfect for her, but the unexpected happens to some innocent people that didn't deserve the event.

At Monday She overheard that her crushes favorite sweet was Chocolate chip cookies and she was ready to bake him cookies.

But the next day she saw her sister sitting on her crushes lap and he was blushing. (The audacity.)

While (Name) was holding the cookies She looked like she was about to cry, but she holds it in for a bit longer.

And left, because what was she was going to do? She only talked to him for one time only and he even offered her to go to lunch with him.

I guess the fantasizing about crushes of having a future with them was really a stupid idea.

After school (Name) tried Thinking about something else other than the events that happened earlier.

But Savanna and her group friend showed up, and started laughing probably about the stuff that happened earlier.

"What so sad (Name)? Being depressed after you saw that I had your crush wrapped around your finger?" Savanna said while her friends chuckled at the statement that Savanna said.

(Name) Didn't really said a thing, because she still loved her sister. She was the only one she had to call as a family member.

(Name) remained vulnerable she didn't have friends because she thought making friend is a waste of time and social draining.

But (Name) didn't considered having a friend to defend her from her 'sister'.

As (Name) remained quite, a harsh slap crossed her face and made her take few steps back.

"You know... Savanna said you go to a strip club just to make a few bucks. HAHAHA" One of Savanna's friend said

(Name) though is was completely dumbfounded, she thought her sister would never do such things.

"Lol, imagine someone actually liking you in the strip club. Even C/N" Other friend of savanna's said.

It was (Name)'s last straw, she ran off. She kind off wish she left before she was being accused by working at a fucking strip club.

When Savanna got home, it was ackward. Even though all the thing she did to her

(Name) still tried to to talk to her even if it was just small talk.

Savanna was pissed off.

She got in to her room and slammed the door shut.

Meanwhile (Name) just brushed it off that she was in a bad mode, like the event didn't happen just now.

Even though (Name) is a forgiving person she always blamed herself, or turn a blind eye.

Being bullied? She probably didn't something that they didn't acknowledge.

Bad mouthing her? Her fault for not being a great student enough.

Screaming at her? She did something very horrible to you or didn't do the homework well enough.

Throwing paper at her? It was probably an accidental throw.

Even though those things happen to her she just kept smiling for her and dear sister, her always thought she deserves the world other than her shadow sister.

But she did have a lot of a temps of SI.

At sunday she finally though of ending the suffering and holding grudges for people.

She honestly did all of those things just to fullfil her mothers last wishes.

"Protect and side with your sister at all times, and don't forget to help people when in need. Thats my only wish for you my lovely daughter." That was her mother's last sentence and wasted her last breath on.

as (Name) expected she didn't fulfill her last. Now she actually always how much of a disappoined she is.

She broke.

She wanted to rest and have a normal life but life is unfair to kind and innocent people that didn't deserve it.

All the torment that happened daily, even the teachers didn't even care because she was always had a big smile on her face.

But today she was tired of all the harassment, shit talk and the bullying.

She dicided to commit..

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hereformcdonaldshonestly · 3 years

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Hello there I love your work is it possible for me to request. kirishima, izuwu, bakugo and todoroki getting hit by a boddy swap quirk and now there stuck in their s/o body for a week and vice versa.

💞💕hope you are having a good day don't forget to stay hydrated 💙

Thank you! Remember to drink that H20 everyone!

(Y/N)- Your Name

(L/N)- Your Last Name

Fluff 💖

Body Swap with S/O

Ejirou Kirishima-

Anytime you hung out with your boyfriend Ejirou, or Kiri as you usually called him, you two would mainly cuddle or sleep. “Hey pebbles, could you imagine if we swapped bodies for the week?” He asks, you laugh. He sits up, “I’m being serious! What if we swap bodies, what would you do?” You sit up slowly, looking at him with a confused look. “Hm, well first I would see how your quirk works!” You start, he smiles. His quirk was simple but yet fascinating to you. Whenever it came down to it, it was definitely much better than your quirk of gigantism. Or basically turning yourself into a giant with giant like strength.

After that night, you woke up with an horrendous headache. You slowly blink, to get the sleep out of your eyes. When you did, you seen Kiri’s messy dorm. Obviously you were confused, but you thought you fallen asleep in his dorm. When you sat up, stretching, you saw yourself in the mirror. You immediately screamed, “oh shit!” You scream, getting the attention of everyone down the hall. “What’s wrong shitty hair!” Bakugou yells, you can tell he was woken up from that. “Yeah bro, what’s wrong?” Denki says as well, you look horrified. “I- No way I’m Kiri right now!” You exclaim, the guys looked confused and said, “uh yeah you are.” Thats when you hear a scream and walls breaking. Oh no, please tell me he didn’t discover your quirk.

As you and others ran out, you seen your body grow into a giant and accidentally knocking over walls. “I didn’t mean to! I swear!” Kiri says, Aizawa is trying to get him to stop and honestly it was a failed attempt. So that’s when you see his scarf unravel and he gets wrapped up, or you technically. “(L/N), with me now.” He says, already fed up. You follow behind, desperately trying to explain the situation. “Ejirou not now, I have to deal with (Y/N) right now.” He says turning to you, “but Mr. Aizawa, we have a problem!” You tell him, panicking. He sighed, taking you and Kiri into his classroom, “explain.” You and Kiri look at each other, “woah I look that good!” Kiri said, you laughed while Aizawa rolled his eyes. “But seriously sir, we woke up like this!” He exclaims, you nod in agreement.

After some failed attempts at explaining, it came to conclusion that you two were pranked by this one kid who had the body swapping quirks. Turns out the kid had something against Kirishima for a stupid party he threw, but then again you weren’t expecting it. The effects lasted about a week, a very long week. All the teachers made sure you didn’t go to class or really do much so you don’t get the other person in trouble for something stupid you did. It was definitely a major memory you couldn’t forget, but Kiri made it so enjoyable. He would mess around with your quirk and actually taught you how to use his! There is no other person you would rather switch bodies with.

Izuku Midoriya-

You had the body swapping quirk! You could swap bodies with anyone at any point, but the bad thing is you can’t choose how long you stay in that body is randomized. You and your boyfriend Deku were in his dorm. You were laying on his bed while he was writing something in his notebook. “Babe, you realize one day you’re going to run out of pages right?” You ask, you hear him laugh. “That’s why you get more! Plus I want to learn more about your quirk!” He says, you smile. It’s amazing to see how he gets interested in your quirk.

After talking, you both decided to swap bodies. “Are you sure Deku? I don’t know how long it’ll last.” You say, anytime you did this, you always stayed cautious. He nodded his head and grabbed your hand. You closed your eyes and that’s when the process begun. It stung, that’s one of the main reasons you tried to do it little as possible. But once you can get it mastered, you’ll be powerful. You both hit the floor, for what felt like hours when in reality it was only a minute. Deku rubbed his eyes, now in your body, looking down at himself. “Woah! No way!” He says, looking at you, who is now in his body. You looked around, moving green hair out of your face. You laugh as you see how excited he is. He immediately grabbed his notebook and started to write about the experience.

Everyone knew you switched bodies, for the main reason of everyone heard you and plus he still acted like himself, but in your body. Once your body was in use of the quirk, it was basically quirkless so that other person can’t do anything. As time went on, you were wondering when you were going to switch back. The record time was 1 day, 5 hours, 33 minutes, and 52 seconds. This time it was already much longer, anytime you stayed in a body for a long amount of time you felt anxious and confused. “You can’t change back?” Deku asked, trying to calm you down. “No! I’ve been trying!” You say, trying to take deep breaths. He rubs your back, “it’ll be okay honey, I promise.”

He stayed by your side that whole time, especially when the effects hit you hard. When you woke up again, that next morning. You felt normal, as if you were yourself again. You were in your own dorm, wearing your own clothes, when you looked in the mirror, it was you. You felt as you could of cried tears of joy, you ran out of your dorm going to Izuku’s. Before he even got a chance to say a word, you hugged him tightly. “It wasn’t that bad being me was it?” He asked, you shook your head no. But he understood, it is a huge pressure plus he was even feeling the side effects. After that, you didn’t try that experiment again, you would in training but only when you were able to somewhat control the amount of time you were in that body.

Katsuki Bakugou-

You two have been dating for a while, anytime there was a mission you went together. You fought together, and protected each other. There was no buts about it, it was so Bakugou could be there for you no matter what. It was sweet, expect when it came to certain villains who would target one of you specifically.

This time, it was the villain named Rapid Doctor. He was a medical student whenever he first started being a villain, then he can cause people’s bodies to switch rapidly so that’s how the name Rapid Doctor came into being. “Ha! You think you can stop me?” He yells, his voice booming. Katsuki immediately grabbed you and put you behind him. You had the quirk of dark shadow, you could summon a dark shadow to help you fight. It’s better as defensive but, you still fought anyways. “You won’t get away with this!” You yell, that’s when he hits you and Katsuki with a beam. You both fall back, hitting the pavement. “Damnit!” Katsuki yells, you look over at him.

Wait a minute, you don’t remember falling off to the left where Bakugou did. That was your body, you glanced down at yourself, seeing you were in Bakugou’s. “Bakugou, Wait-!” You say, trying to get his attention before he gets up. But it was too late, he was already trying to fight back. “Damnit, why isn’t my fucking quirk working!?” He yells, you immediately got up and yelling back “He switched our bodies! You have my quirk!” Rapid Doctor laughter was booming, it could be heard all through out of the city. “What!?” Katsuki stops and looks at you, before you get a chance to say anything, the villain hits him and throws him across the pavement. You felt a fire in your hands, you started to use his quirk and throwing explosives at the villain. Once others got there and took it over, you ran to Bakugou. “Please be okay, please be okay.” You whisper to yourself, over and over again.

Thankfully he was, but on the bad side of news. You guys were stuck like this for around a week, it was definitely tougher to handle his quirk than yours. “Dumbass, how does the shadow thing work?” He asks, looking at his, technically yours, hands. You laugh and give him a run down, after a week you woke up in your own body again. Bakugou was happy that he was in his own body again, but it felt weird not having you around all the time. This is what started the tradition of spending nights with each other for majority of the week!

Shoto Todoroki-

You and Shoto out for a date! It was a rainy date, so he had his jacket covering your head as you ran across the street to get inside. “Okay! How about we try something new!” You say, looking at the menu. You both were trying this new Sushi restaurant in town, you never saw anyone there so you both decided why not try it.

As you sat down, ordering, you came across something on the menu that was definitely odd. “Hey babe, look at this.” You say pointing to it, it was a sushi roll that had colors of the galaxies, like blue, purple, pink, etc. “Hmm.” He says in response, reading it. You read it off, “the sushi roll perfect for the perfect pair, this will cause you to learn more about each other.” You look up at him, “I say let’s try it!” He nods and smiles in response, whenever you ordered, the rolls came out quick. They had a smell of lavender and a blend of sage, whenever you both took a bite, you don’t remember much after that. All you remember is you went to your own dorm.

That next morning you woke up in Todoroki’s dorm, you sigh, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. When you looked over at Todoroki, he was- wait what? He was in your body, that can’t be right. When you looked down, you realized that you were in his body. Oh my god, that sushi roll! You grab his shoulders and shake him until he’s awake, he yawns and looks at you. After a moment, realization hits and he sits up quickly. “(Y/N), why are you me? And why am I you?” He asks, clearly panicking. “I have no idea! All I remember is those sushi rolls!” You exclaim, he grabs your hand. “What if it was those rolls? Maybe they put something in there.” He says calmly, thinking about it. Soon as you guys got up, you were dressed and headed off to the sushi place. Whenever you got there, it was gone!

“I- What?” You say in confusion, almost breaking down. “We’re going to be like this forever!” You say, starting to cry. He grabs you and pulls you into a tight hug, “shhh, it’s okay.” He says quietly. After that, you both decided to wait it out since there was no trace of the restaurant or the owners. After a week and a half, you finally woke up in your own bodies. You finally understood each other to a level that you couldn’t imagine of reaching. That made your relationship so much stronger, and now you stick to your regular sushi place.

I hope you liked this one! I was trying to come up with ideas for it 😅

I hope you have a great day! :)

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b1ksh88p · 3 years

Text

Be Mine Chapter 3

Plot: A storm is brewing in Valentine, and you’re in the middle of it. It’s been a few days since you’ve seen Harry and there’s already been a horrendous murder. With tensions high and everyone finger pointing your ex, Edmund, makes everything worse by spreading gossip. With the sting of rejection still weighing heavy on your heart you attempt to clear everything up only to make things worse.

Describing your mood as sour would be a understatement. You were numb. A grey cloud loomed over your usual cheery exterior as you went through day to day activities. Whenever someone asked if you were alright you’d chalk it up to trivial excuses. When in actuality you were torn that you’d been stupid enough to try and have a picnic with a killer. If you were sane maybe you’d tell the Sheriff and get some of his boys in uniform to smoke Harry out somehow but you had no taste for revenge. All you wanted was to move on.

But it seemed your ex had other plans. You worked in the diner, usually taking up the night shifts to rid yourself of boredom. As you were cleaning a table you overheard a couple chatting away about you of all topics. Why your name was in their mouths you didn’t know but from what you got out of it made you want to raise hellfire.

“I heard she goes down there every night to see that killer.”

“Edmund said that the sherif saw her go in with food and came out empty handed.”

“No way, maybe she’s a killer.”

There’s no way you could allow these two peons spread such outlandish babble. You’ve never killed anyone nor would you ever. The thought of murdering another made you sick to your stomach. “Edmund is a long-nosed good for nothing asshole who spends his time making up calumniations and dumping his girlfriend on Valentine’s Day for a dumb blonde with a baby voice. You two and the rest of your bubble headed friends would be fools to believe anything that comes out his mouth.” You finish with a astute turn into the back for a extensive smoke break.

If you saw Edmund or that sleazy sheriff you’d be sure to give them a piece of your mind. And speak of the devil, there he was. Your blood was replaced with boiling water as you stomped your way towards him. He was with the sherif and some other random cop you didn’t know. Both of them saw you coming and started to drift apart before you whistle and jogged towards the two snakes.

“Where we going boys? Running away from the new killer of the town?”

“Now listen Y/N I didn’t mean to start anything.” The sheriff assured.

You weren’t impressed. “You’re just the last one seen in the mines so...it makes sense.” Edmund shrugged.

“And you were the last one fucking the blonde bimbo you cheated on me with and she has crabs....so it makes sense right?” You snap back garnering a chortle from the other cop.

“It’s not my fault you’re a boring bitch who can’t get anyone to date you except for some psycho?!” He growled.

“I’m not dating anyone and I’m not a killer. Instead of gossiping like little girls how about you three go investigate and find the real killer.” You throw down the cigarette and stomp it out beneath your heel.

“We apologize if we’ve caused you any trouble Miss, we’re doing the best we can.” The Sheriff whispered.

“Keep my name out your ass licking mouths and out the fucking paper.” You demand before walking back inside the diner.

After your shift you began to walk home. The ominous glow of streetlights did little to scare you. On your way to you lovely home you stopped by the liquor store. A bit tipsy you ventured the winding fucked up roads. The quiet sounds of the night were ruined by the sounds of sirens. It had been what? 72 hours and some change since the last murder what the hell could the coppers be speeding for? Even in your mildly drunken stupor you noticed where they were heading. The mines. Sober you would’ve kept walking like any sane person but you were running on anger, worry, and rum. A mix that didn’t bode well when making good decisions.

You knew a shortcut through the trees and made haste. By the time you fought through flora and fauna two cars were already there. The sheriff and Edmund were there holding lanterns and guns. You step out from behind the trees, face bathed in red and blue lights. Softly stepping towards the shit show. “What the fuck are you two asswipes doing?!” You call out as you make your way to the entrance of the mine. Before they can stop you you’re in front of the cold entrance.

“You protecting your boyfriend again?” Edmund spat as he loaded his gun.

“You don’t have a gotdamn clue who killed those two. It takes you dumb mother fuckers months to even get close to closing a case!”

“We know he’s down there Y/N and he’s gonna fucking burn for what he did. And if you gotta burn with him so fucking be it!” He aimed the gun at you which almost made you piss yourself. You stumble back as he aims it at you. The thumping of your heart beat in your ears.

“I’m not you enemy! And neither is he!” Your words were bold but hoarse.

“That son of a bitch killed family. I don’t care what you think he’s going to die, and if I have to shoot you to get to him I fucking will!” The sheriffs attempts to calm down Edmund were futile. He had his eyes on you. They were large and red and full of rage. He looked like a rabid animal and you his prey.

“...You’re angry I get that but this is a mob attack not a lawful pick up. You have no evidence-“

“DONT GIVE ME A FUCKING LESSON IN LAW BITCH I AM THE FUCKING LAW!” He shot at the ground beneath your feet sending dirt into your eyes. The muffled scolding from the sheriff did nothing to stop your beating heart. In fact there were bigger problems.

Another shot cracked through the night sending you to the ground covering your head. The grotesque sound of choking made you gag. The Sheriff was on the ground, clambering hands grabbing at the gaping hole in his chest as he bled out. Edmund was in shock. He held the man’s dead hand with wide eyes. Perfect time to get away. You book it into the mines. It was dark and cold, even chillier with a fresh murderer on your heels. At first you didn’t hear him but a shot echoed through the caves followed by some demands for you and Harry to reveal yourselves. That wasn’t happening so you keep running, ducking into random corridors to try and throw him off your trail.

Apart of you was afraid of running into Harry. What if he was angry at you? Running into one killer to escape the other was a chance you really didn’t want to take. You’d rather wait it out and hide. Hopefully Harry would take care of Edmund and you could run away without interacting with either of them. You stop running to hide in a old mining cart that was turned over. Covering your mouth with shaking hands you listen. A heavy set of footsteps past you, Edmund more than likely. It wasn’t like Harry to be so loud. He taunted what you assumed were the shadows to face him like a real man. He didn’t really see him right? You wish you could peek but you were far to afraid you’d get your head blown off.

“So that’s what you look like. Y’know it’s crazy. You don’t look like a monster.” He cocked the gun. “Tell me how you did it. How you killed my dad you fucking monster.” He demanded.

There was no response on Harry’s end. You hear something fall to the ground and then Edmund’s smug laughter. What the hell was going on? You quietly peak from out your hiding space. The minimal lighting made the scene hard to make out but by the looks of it Harry had...given up. He had thrown his pick axe ahead of him, taken off the mask, and dropped to his knees. A gloved hand on the barrel of the gun pointing it to his head. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Was he insane? Edmund goes into a end game spill about how long he’s waited to do this. How he’d pin the Sheriff’s and I’s murder on Harry and walk out the mines a hero. During this you start to crawl towards them, ready to rush him or throw a rock, anything to buy Harry time. Your chest is tight as you hold your breath. Nearing the both of them as quietly as you possibly can. Edmund cocks the gun and says something to the effect of “everyone dies, somebody should’ve take your sorry ass out long ago.” Before you hear a shot.

It hits the ceiling once you use all your might to swing Harry’s pickaxe into Edmund’s head, through his cheek. The blast was so close to Harry he fell back in pain. Edmund leans on the wall holding the left side of his face, still turned away from you. When he does look at you all the blood drains from your body. His tongue hung from the broken jaw like a salivating dog, torn flesh dangled around missing teeth, with so much flesh exposed blood spritzed out every time he moved closer to you. He couldn’t move his jaw so when he spoke it was a gurgled cacophony of rage and disbelief. You lift the pick axe once more but see him lift the shotgun and take aim. This makes you freeze like a deer in headlights. You close your eyes, bracing for impact. But to your surprise it never comes. Instead Harry had gotten up and tackled him, only problem was that he got shot.

The two men fell to the ground. Edmund kicking him off and frantically reaching into his pocket for two more shells. Without thinking you kick the gun from his hands. He tried to get up but you stomp on his chest with all the rage bottled up inside. He looks up at you with that mangled face and large eyes but mercy was the last thing on your mind. You look over him, raise the crude weapon, and allow the cold metal to pierce through his chest. You let out a exasperated scream as you continue your onslaught. Hammering down years of neglect, wasted time, slander, and abuse into what’s left of his broken body. When you’re done he’s left torn apart. Rib cage broken and organs exposed. In all the madness you vomit from the stress and overall exertion of energy you used up. The groans from Harry snap you back to reality and you go to aid him.

“Oh god oh shit hold on hold on.” You ramble. Your hands try their best to cover the wound. He was shot in the side. Luckily it wasn’t a direct hit but without medical attention it was gonna get nasty. You use Edmund’s jacket to help stop the bleeding. He was just staring at you. “What? What the hell are you gonna yell at me for now???” You yell trying not to cry. He lifts a bloody hand to your face.

FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON DRAGON BALL Z

#harry warden #slasher #slashers #fanfic

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snivellussnoop · 3 years

Text

The Memory Cabinet of an Alchemist

Ficlet based on Steven Wilson’s The Watchmaker. Find it here on Wattpad and here on AO3!

—

“The watchmaker works all day and long into the night; He pieces things together Despite his failing sight. Though all the cogs connect with such poetic grace, Time has left its curse upon this place.”

He feels as if he hasn’t slept in years.

His feelings are accurate; he hasn’t.

The shadow of insomnia smudges itself beneath his eyes like paint, his face reminding him much of a work of Van Gogh; layered, blotchy, pained, alone. He finds his own reflection confusing now. He passed the point of concern weeks ago.

He has to keep his mind off of the war. Off of Albus. Off of all related duties. He knows it’s coming. They all do.

So he stays up through nights on end, staring intensely at his own vials, mixing things with tiny adjustments falling out of a thin dropper, watching his liquids turn from white to purple to deep black, pretending that the future doesn’t exist. Although, in his case, that may be comfortingly true.

“Each hour becomes another empty space to fill, Wasted with the care And virtues of his skill. The watchmaker buries something deep within his thoughts: A shadow on the staircase Of someone from before…”

Every distraction is a god to him. He worships preoccupations with the commitment of a nun, every drop of liquid cooling his own thoughts like nitrogen as they fall from the dropper to the beaker, each drip slowing the pulsing blood in his ears. So quickly, so easily, he forgets.

He forgets that his time in this dungeon is slipping so quickly away from him. He forgets that he will soon be responsible, by request, for maiming one of his only friends. He forgets that his jobs and double lives will rapidly become more and more dangerous until the war ends or he dies; whichever comes first. He almost hopes it’s the latter.

But even deeper down, he forgets more.

He forces back the memories of his early school days, of being pushed around in the courtyards, of the name-calling and fight-starting and friend-losing. He pretends not to remember James. Lily. Sirius. Petunia. Even the echoes of his father’s rough voice and Peter Pettigrew’s cackling little laugh he shoves into the least reachable spot of the cabinet in the back of his head, closing the door and locking it three times on its abused and chipped frame.

But the better memories are ones he would like to forget, too. And those are harder. Because everything about them is gone, so all they bring is pain. However, the good memories are the only ones he’s ever liked; they’re the only things that, for a moment, have made his life worth living in the slightest. So it’s difficult to grab ahold of them, and they seem to so easily slip back out of the cabinet he shoves them into no matter how hard he attempts it.

He mixes a new concoction, his face tightening as it all floods back to him. As he tries to pick up his memories and put them away, they seem to slip between his fingers and fall right back into his conscious thought again, back and forth, until he has no choice but to face them for a little while.

He remembers. And it’s heaven. And it’s hell.

“I thought it might be nice to start over,” a voice reverberates in his ears, the softness dampening the noise of his own terrified heartbeat. “You know, to forget our rifts for a while. We’re coworkers now, after all.”

He remembers shaking a hand in agreement (and how soft and warm it was. So comfortingly safe), giving a harsh nod and leaving the room.

He remembers that voice. The stupid, horrendous, beautiful voice, bantering with him and bringing him coffee every morning at sunrise. He remembers it whispering softly in his ears, so close, so unbelievably caring; its hands caressing every square inch of him as if he were worth loving. He felt so cared for back then. He cared back. He hates that he cared back.

“Meet me in my office tonight,” it would say on multiple occasions, “unless you prefer I meet you in yours.”

“I may just... happen to be in the area,” he would say back, word for word, every single time.

“Just... be casual about it. Please.”

“Naturally.”

“No one can know.”

A pause. “That’s quite apparent, is it not?”

Another pause. And a smile.

“Get back to your class, then.”

He remembers the affection, the closeness, the warmth as they would hold one another as close as they possibly could. He remembers having to strengthen his skills in Occlumency to keep such love hidden from Voldemort himself. He remembers his life slowly altering until it revolved completely around Remus Lupin, as if he was some sort of star. And maybe he was. He was the one light there seemed to be, and that certainly counted.

And he remembers the news. The “I’m-scared-of-coming-out-in-such-a-climate-and-in-order-to-stay-hidden-I-think-I-am-going-to-spend-my-life-with-a-woman” news. His last night in the Dark Arts office. The long conversation, hours and hours of offers and ideas that all had some way of being proven faulty.

“She’s kind. She’s my friend. I don’t mind her.”

“You don’t feel for her.”

“I don’t have to.”

Loyalty was Lupin’s biggest fault, and Snape scolded it endlessly after it was taken from him and given to Nymphadora Tonks. Because, even though Remus did not love her in the way that was ideal, he could not cheat. He cared too much to do such things. Damn him for caring. Damn his wonderful, perfect heart.

“This thing is broken now And cannot be repaired. Fifty years of compromise And aging bodies shared. Dear, you know there's something I should say—”

The remembering stops, everything about the shaggy werewolf going silent, the images of his smiling features going dark. Severus blinks his eyes to realize that they are red and watery, irritated by the potion fumes, no doubt, but also irritated by the loss.

He sniffs, sitting back in his chair and sighing up at the ceiling. With the war approaching, the break was for the best, although the wound still hurts like hell. Satan himself seems to have kissed it, his teeth sinking deeper and deeper into Snape’s thin and timid blood, the fangs becoming part of it, the hurting becoming irreversible.

He wonders if Remus is lying awake as well. He wonders if he ever misses him. He wonders if he ever cries.

He decides to write to him. He doesn’t know why; it happens without his own processing nor consent. His hands and quill are on the paper before he even notices that they’ve moved. He ignores his own convulsions of emotional turmoil as he scrawls out a message, the ink seeping into the parchment quicker than death itself, his silent sobs muffled by the scratching of the metal nib on the rough surface of the letter. He provides no return address and no name; he figures it’s unnecessary. Lupin will know. He’ll recognize the handwriting. He used to gush over it so.

He stamps it with a deep blue wax and sends it away, the words carved permanently in as it’s carried to the mailbox towns away with the engraving Lupin and Tonks lettered on the outside. The message sits. Snape goes back to his alchemy. The words await. It remains:

“I never really loved you, But I'll miss you anyway.”

#snupin #snupin fic #snupin ficlet #snupin oneshot #snupin fanfic #pro snape #snape x lupin #snapexlupin #hpathbp era #my writing

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captain-emmajones · 4 years

Text

Love, Emma (6/7)

(Art by the wonderful @carpedzem <3)

Loosely based on Love, Rosie (2014).

Killian and Emma are best friends and neighbors. They’ve always been – until he leaves for the Navy when his brother dies. When he comes back, nine months later, summer has begun and childhood is ending. Emma can tell something is changed in him, but she doesn’t know what. Until she does. He’s fallen in love with someone else.

And then, suddenly, they’re kissing on her nineteenth birthday. When she asks him to forget their night out, and never talk about it again, Killian thinks she means to tell him she regrets the kiss they exchanged. Except she has no memory of it.

Killian and Emma will dance around each other, until their heads spin and their legs hurt, and everything becomes blurry and it has to stop – for both of their sake.

A huge thank you to @profdanglaisstuff who beta’d this and gave me her precious thoughts <3

Friends to Lovers - Mutual Pining - Angst - Fluff - 6000 words - ao3

Part 1 - MIRRORBALL, Part 2 - AUGUST , Part 3 - HOAX, Part 4 - PEACE, Part 5 - THIS IS ME TRYING, Part 7 - INVISIBLE STRING

Note: Everyone gives a lot of love to @carpedzem who drew this wonderful art for this fanfic :’))

Quick Summary: Last chapter ended on Neal finding Killian's love letter to Emma. This chapter opens on Emma, a week after Killian and Emma's kiss.

Reminder: Present time is Emma’s wedding to Neal, and that scene on the balcony during which Killian congratulates Emma on her wedding -- although he’s mostly dying inside. The words “I love you” slip out of his mouth, however he’s quick to add “as a friend” which leaves us with two very sad individuals who are both committing a grave mistake.

PART 6 - CARDIGAN

Six months before Emma’s wedding, a week after Emma and Killian’s kiss.

Emma tosses and turns in her bed. She does not want to glance at the clock sitting on her bedside table. It’s probably joyfully, painfully displaying a horrendous number set between 1am and 5am and Emma wants nothing to do with it.

There is not a spark of light in the room she shares with Neal, the heavy window shutters closed down.

Emma wishes there was some kind of light. Perhaps then the weight over her chest would feel less terrifying, would feel less like the terrible, dark blue waves of a tormented sea she watches swallow her alive and spit her back onto the sand.

She’s battered between the waves, back and forth, back and forth, skin rocking against water, until she manages to reach the surface and breathes in deeply.

But she’s only inhaling sea water and it fills her lungs and brings her to tears and it’s bitter, and it’s shit, and she cannot forget the taste of Killian’s lips.

Another turn, a grunt of anger and despair.

How dare he kiss her and let her leave him when he was in pain. How dare he.

It was inevitable, whispers another part of her, but that part she ignores diligently.

Nothing is inevitable. Especially cheating on her future husband. With her friend whose feet were barely out of the surgery block.

Well, she didn’t properly cheat if he was the one to kiss her…that would have been true, had she not furthered their kiss.

Had she not backed him into his chair and sucked his breath away and marked his scalp with her fingers and tugged on his hair and filled his entire being with her, and her only. It was long overdue, after all.

She turns, more aggressively this time, nearly knicks Neal out of the bed, her right foot whizzing past him.

She kissed him back because he was clearly seeking support and comfort and because a part of her will always love him, has always loved him and there’s nothing wrong with that.

Horseshit.

It is wrong. Utterly, completely, wrong.

Nobody deserves to be cheated on. Nobody. Period.

She’s just a piece of shit, now, is she?

She glances on the side. Neal is still laying on his back, peacefully snoring, one arm flung across his face. She nearly hates him for it. She totally hates him for it.

His chest raises up and down, comfortably, peacefully. What would Emma give for just an ounce of peace in her veins.

Her breath is coming out in short puffs.

It was inevitable, stammers once again her inner voice.

“NO.”

And the scream she thought only existed in her mind causes Neal to startle next to her, and this time she’s thankful it is complete darkness in their room, because he cannot see the flush on her cheeks.

She can make out the shadow of his head lifting in the dark, and she imagines his features groggy with sleep. “You okay, Emma?”

She turns back, grumbles. “Yeah, don’t worry. It’s just a nightmare.” And she definitely sounds like she’s blaming him for it.

A long, tortuous week flies by. Emma’s under-eye circles darken with each passing day, and she is alarmly pale when Graham asks her in a weary tone: “You’re sure everything’s okay, Emma?”

She nods and glances down at where Graham has been looking, and she realizes she’s been holding the files upside down.

Well.

“Shit. Yes. Sorry, Graham. I’ve been having a rough couple of days, is all.”

And then Graham does this thing where he leans into her space, with his big brown eyes, and this kindness in his smile, and he inquires again: “Everything okay with Neal?”

And Emma nods a bit too abruptly for it to be believable, and she knows Graham is smart enough to see it, but she nods harder, it’s the only movement her brain seems to know. “Neal? It’s never been better.” And a quick, lively chuckle to seal the deal.

And really had she laughed harder she would have choked on her fears.

(Her fears have blue eyes and are missing a limb now, and she does not dare to send him a text, to ask him “How are you?” because he must be feeling like shit, and in part it is because of her, she left him, but he had no right to kiss her like this and she had no right to kiss him back.)

She has David on the phone later this week.

“Hello, Emma. I’ve arrived in Portsmouth. I’ll be spending the week with him.”

She hates the feeling of guilt that circles her heart, even as she sighs her biggest sigh of relief.

“Thank you, David, it means the world. I would have come, you know, but I’m so busy with the wedding and the sheriff station and—”

“Sure thing, Emma,” he blurts out and Emma thinks he sounds so accusative, it nearly knocks her out. She is convinced she deserves it. “I’ll take care of him, don’t worry.” A few words more, and he hangs up.

For the first time in ages, Emma feels like Killian and she are on opposite teams, and David has chosen his.

She swallows a lump down her throat.

Emma caves in on Saturday night. Outside, the rain is pouring heavily against her windows. The wind is also howling, curling around the walls of the house and threatening to crush it under its strength.

Neal is out at Granny’s watching a soccer game with friends when Emma sits down on the hard wooden floor of their living room. Her legs are crossed and her heart is drumming in her ears, and she calls him. There’s a bottle of red wine in front of her, and it’s looking at her with a lot of judgement in its glassy eyes but Emma doesn’t care.

She cannot go on like this. She needs to know that he is alright, and that this was all a grave, stupid mistake, and she needs him to say something like “I’m fine, Emma, I’ll survive this” but also “I meant to do that for years” and then it would be her cue to nod under the ceiling light, tears in her smile and she’d say some stupid shit like “Oh god, I’ve been waiting for you to say that” and then she’d drop everything to fly back to him and they’d be happy together or some shit.

Ring, ring, ring.

That’s a lovely dream indeed.

Ring, ring, ring.

And just as Emma gets impatient, not to say she gets scared, a voice answers her. It’s a groggy, foggy voice, and it does not belong to Killian.

“Hello, what is it?” The voice echoes, chuckles, as music resonates behind it, and it is the voice of a woman.

Emma figures they must be in some kind of pub, just like Neal is.

“Is this Killian’s phone?” attempts Emma, fingers clutched onto the phone, and heart on her sleeves.

“Yup...” Another giggle. Emma decides she hates the voice. “But he is currently unavailable. Do you want me to give him a message?”

And then Emma hears his voice, emerging from a twirl of songs and other talks. “Why are you using my phone, Tink?”

Emma thinks Killian’s voice irrupts into her empty house just as a gust of wind rattles her shutters. She flinches. And for a minute, glances above her shoulder, afraid that he might appear behind her back.

But silence is her only companion. And this house is so impressively, distinctively silent.

Something clicks inside of Emma’s brain. Tink. She knows Tink. What’s her real name? Mary something. They went to high school together, and she had a disgustingly big crush on Killian, and, and –

“I dunno, some chick.”

And Emma barely has time to hear Killian’s “Which chick?” before she hangs up on a whim.

She heaves, hands trembling around the phone, and something grotesque disfigures her face.

She was worried about him and he’s been having the time of his life with this Tink, and, and – what was she expecting?

She stares at the floor as though she is able to distinguish the broken bits of her heart spilled there, and the bloody marks they leave, and it’s such a goddamn mess, and how could she allow herself to feel this way after all these years, after having been shown all the goddamn reasons why Killian Jones will never love her back a hundred fucking times.

Rose-Mary, of her surname Tink, tosses and turns in Killian’s bed. He is fast asleep next to her, one hand thrown across his face. He snores lightly.

Tink has this tingling desire deep within her, this desire to grab the phone he left on his nightstand and delete Emma Swan’s call from it.

“Give me the phone, Tink!”

Back in the bar, she was quite lucky to find out in the shape of his raised eyebrows that Killian Jones wasn’t actually serious, that he was seriously hammered and couldn’t have cared less for his phone if he had tried. As her only answer, she had simply locked her lips to his and pressed his phone’s home button to switch it off.

Because Tink knows Emma Swan.

Killian Jones was already in love with her when Tink asked him out, during their senior year. She cannot forget the look on his face, as she was standing in the middle of the hallway, risking her heart. Behind her, Emma Swan was leaning against a locker with Mary Margaret and Ruby, and Killian simply, positively wouldn’t look Tink in the eyes.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said, “but my affections lie elsewhere.” And Tink remembers thinking he surely didn’t have to sound like he escaped from one of Shakespeare’s plays, and she turned to discover the pretty blonde smiling at Killian, waving with mischief, and his arm around her shoulders as soon as he reached her.

Some things were truly unfair.

As luck would have it, Killian’s path crossed hers years ago – when he moved to Portsmouth to join the Navy whilst she began Nursing school. But even then, he didn’t seem interested, was dating an older woman.

And then, finally, two days ago, their paths crossed again in a bar. He is missing a hand now, but he is still the same handsome guy she crushed on in high school. Perched on a stool, he looked disheveled, desperate, nose in his rum glass, and he welcomed her into his warm, solid arms.

“Still in contact with Emma Swan?” she asked, and it wasn’t like she cared. She didn’t want more than he could offer. But still, she asked.

“Emma? Who’s Emma? I only see you.”

Although she knew that to be a lie, she still decided to kiss him back, knowing the instant Killian Jones heard Emma Swan’s name again, well then, he would find a very gentle, delicate way to make her go away.

And that’s fine. But if she can prevent it, well –

Tink stands up as silently as she can, and like a feather in the wind, grabs his phone. He casually gave her his pin number earlier during the night — change this bloody song Tink will you — and Tink deletes Emma’s call in the blink of an eye.

Satisfaction sparkles in her heart. No one will bother them anymore.

As Neal and Emma go on tasting wedding cakes, Emma thinks about how Killian never called her back. Not the morning after her conversation with Tink, not the night after, not the day after, he did not call. Period. It’s the only answer he is willing to give, and she accepts it.

He doesn’t care about her. Not like she cares, anyway.

“The chocolate one,” Emma mumbles, trying not to spit crumbs of cakes out of her mouth and failing, “it’s perfect.”

Delicacy remains a skill she has yet to learn.

But Neal doesn’t seem to mind when he chuckles and kisses her cheek. Emma grabs his face and doesn’t care that there are still chocolate chunks in her mouth and she kisses him, hard, to forget the taste of Killian Jones’ lips.

Killian stares at the picture of Emma and himself on his fridge. It’s been a month, stammers his heart. She will not call, now.

Tink is still sleeping in his bed. He needs to call things off with her as well. She’s too attached, he’ll break her heart. That’s one too many hearts to be responsible for.

He swallows stone, but he takes the picture off the fridge. It’s too painful to stare at what ifs.

A few minutes before Emma and Neal say “I do”.

Taking a picture off a fridge is simple enough. Not racing towards the town hall of Storybrooke to try, one last time, and stop Emma’s wedding, isn’t nearly as easily done.

Hope and denial are, after all, two very close kingdoms and both of them inhabit Killian’s heart.

At least he’s got that going for him. However, Mary Margaret and David – who are also running beside him – really have nothing going for them except for their foolishness.

How dare they show up in his home and tear him out of his cobweb of misery and self-pity. How bloody dare they.

“There’s no use arguing, I’m not going!” he yelled, and then Mary Margaret had this very dangerous smile, and before he knew it, his ass sat on a plane between the two of them and he was wearing his most expensive tie.

“And look sharp, Killian.”

Which is why, as Killian races down that street corner, and up that small hill by Granny’s, and then down again Main street, towards the town hall, Killian no longer expects Emma and Neal to come out of the building, holding hands, married.

But that’s exactly what happens.

They come out as a crowd of strangers surrounds them, and they look like the sun has set all of its rays of sunshine on them, they are shining, shining, much like the waves of fear down Killian’s belly because he is too late. Of course he is.

And he wants to turn around and hit David in the face.

But what’s the use of fighting anymore? The war is lost. Lay your weapons down. Bring the soldiers home.

And in that moment, as the sun seems to align with some divine power and its golden beams shine on Emma’s eyes, glittering green lakes, she gazes at him and he holds his breath. In spite of everything, he still thinks she is the most beautiful woman on earth. He smiles, as his heart shatters to the ground, as Neal kisses her open mouth.

What is there else to do but smile?

“Fuck,” exclaims Mary Margaret next to him, and Killian sure does nod.

“Aye. Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Present day – Neal and Emma’s wedding reception.

Neal watches as Emma shuts the large French windows that lead to the balcony behind her. He puts down his glass of champagne on the white table in front of him. The bubbles fizz inside, as if to mock him.

For there’s not the shadow of a smile on his wife’s face. In fact, she looks utterly devastated. Her complexion is pale, her cheeks have lost all the colors they gathered during their dances, and there is not one sparkle of happiness left in her green eyes.

A frown. Why does his wife look devastated at their wedding?

He sees her glance down, seemingly lost, and she does this thing when she doesn’t know where to put her hands, so she folds them in front of her. And she plays with the bracelet around her wrist, twists the little charms, twists, twists his heart.

And then he realizes. She’s waiting. But for what? Or rather, for whom?

He wishes the answer didn’t come quite as soon, not quite as sharply, he wishes the room did not start spinning as Killian Jones leaves the balcony in his turn – devilishly handsome as he’d say and looking entirely like a mess.

What a picture. They both look devastated. They look like the bride and groom, him in his white shirt and her in her white dress. Two bleeding snowflakes under a golden chandelier.

Neal watches as Emma risks a glance back, but Killian doesn’t look up, only stares at the hard wooden floor, Neal watches as she presses her lips together and straightens her back, but still glances back at him.

Always back at him. Of course.

And that’s when one realization hits Neal quite hard.

His wife… His wife is in love with someone else. He just married someone who is irrevocably and for all of eternity in love with someone else.

Why did he do this to himself? For the longest of times, Neal thought it didn’t matter that Emma’s gaze was filled with green, shimmering clouds of pain whenever Killian Jones’ name was mentioned in a conversation, he really thought it didn’t matter that her cheeks would always flush whenever she received a text from him, because he was the one kissing her lips and sleeping between her sheets.

He was such a fool.

He married a woman in love with someone else.

Such a fool.

Neal grabs his glass of champagne again, downs it in a few angry mouthfuls, and gathers courage and legs to stand and stride towards his wife.

Emma might be in love with Killian, but she loves him too, surely she does, or she wouldn’t have agreed to this marriage, right?

And there is something very scary vibrating in his chest, fear, a green and viscous fear, he’s losing her, she’s slipping between her fingers…

“Neal,” Emma’s voice is very soft as it greets him, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

How dare she, how dare she be in love with Killian, when Neal gave up everything for her, when he…

From the corner of his eye, Neal can see Killian lean against the wall. He is looking at them. Perfect. Now watch, you little fucker.

“Hello, baby,” two words, and Neal dips Emma and savagely presses his lips onto hers.

A burst of applause rattles the crowd.

Neal tries his best to muffle the voice inside his head that sneers that the only thing their guests are cheering at, is the end of their love.

“I’m going back to our room, I’m really tired” mumbles Emma over her empty mojito glass.

The sea whispers behind her back. Neal doesn’t look up from his piña colada.

On the terrace of this luxurious hotel by the French Riviera, Neal and Emma are sitting and everything sucks.

It is the third day of their honeymoon, and for Neal, it is the last straw. There is no way in hell he can keep up this charade. They both deserve better than this.

She’s been looking miserable since they arrived here – it isn’t for a lack of trying to conceal it. Actually, no, it’s worse than that. She’s been looking miserable since Killian Jones left their wedding without a look back at her. Should have seen her face, Eurydice left by Orpheus in the depths of hell.

It’s killing him to see her like this, to know there’s nothing he can do to make things better. Purely and simply because, as much as he’s tried to, Neal Cassidy will never replace Killian Jones in Emma Swan’s heart.

And as she bends towards him to give him a quick peck on the lips, a very vicious sentence tickles his tongue and he lets it out without a second thought.

“Bet you looked more eager to kiss Killian.”

It is a dick move, yes, but after all he isn’t the one who cheated on her, and Neal thinks she deserves a little karma.

The look she darts on him then would have probably killed him, had there not been empty glasses standing between the two of them to shield him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” she spits out in a sharp, defensive tone.

Neal is surprised she tries to deny it all.

“Your lover sent you a letter,” he hisses back.

Satisfaction sparkles in his heart at the sight of her face turning crimson under the moonlight.

He watches as she angrily gulps a last mouthful of rum, watches as her knuckles whiten around her glass and her jaw clenches. “Who are you talking about?”

“Who the hell do you think I’m talking about?”

And then the god forsaken, sacrilegious name. “...Killian sent me a letter?”

And from guilt to anger, there is only one, treacherous step. And she seems eager to jump it.

“Oh yeah, he did. Said it all about your kiss and loving you, and I nearly vomited…”

And then it is really upsetting because he wants to be mad but her face does that thing where it just freezes, mouth open wide and eyes even wider, and it would have been funny had he not been putting an end to their short-lived marriage.

“He…he loves me?”

She cannot possibly not know it. She can’t be that oblivious to reality.

“I’m telling you I know you cheated on me and that’s your only reaction?” A roll of eyes, his voice coming out shriller, to mock her, mock her pain, because he wants to hurt her like she hurt him. “ “He loves me?” Of course he loves you, Emma!” he blurts out, because the entire world knows it except for her, apparently.

He can’t have married someone as oblivious.

Well, you did marry her knowing she was in love with someone else.

And she stands up, cheeks hot and burning and red, and she isn’t making any sense anymore. “What the hell are you talking about? Killian doesn’t love me, he never has.”

And seeing her wrath, the way her body trembles and shakes, he knows she is truly convinced Killian Jones isn’t in love with her.

But how…

“You really don’t know, do you?”

“Where is that letter?”

“I got rid of it, of course!”

“Then you have no proof! How convenient.”

He wants to stop her then, to yell “Hey YOU cheated on me,” but he can tell that in her grand order of things, her cheating on him has nothing on Killian Jones possibly loving her.

And then a small, mad chuckle jolts out of her mouth. “Killian would never write a letter. You made that up.”

“But how would I know about the kiss?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care, and I, I—” A turn, and then she is gone, disappearing in a tornado of anger and guilt and sand.

Neal doesn’t try to hold her back, remains very still on his seat, lets her go, much like he should have years ago. He glances down at the empty drink between his fingers.

The waves crash against the sand, whoosh, whoosh, and Neal feels terribly lonely.

But at peace.

But mostly lonely.

Damnit, she is stubborn, and she is lucky he’s in love with her. That he’ll always be, somehow, even if he is a fucking idiot who probably blew his only chance at love when he stole those watches.

Later that night, Neal finds her sitting on their king side bed and its perfectly white blankets, hands folded in front of her like he knows them to, shoulders down and head bent towards the floor, and Neal desperately wants to hug her.

There is not an ounce of anger left in his body. Only sadness.

There’s not a flicker of light in their room as he sits down by her side. The rustle of the waves can be heard from their room. It’s the only reason why he chose it. He knows she loves that sound.

(He doesn’t know she loves it because of him, but that’s fine.)

“Hey…” he begins softly, and his shoulder gently bumps against hers. “You okay?”

She’s twirling her wedding ring around her finger. Of course she is. She always has been. And that should have been a clue, too.

“Are you being sincere right now?” she asks, and her voice is nothing like the voice he’s grown to love.

Emma’s voice has always been soft, but vibrating with a very triumphant confidence as well.

“What do you mean?” he asks, because precisely he doesn’t know what she means.

He’s never understood her like Killian can, in spite of how much he loves her. And while he spent most of the beginning of his adulthood hating him for it, he realizes now it is simply a battle he cannot win.

She lifts her face up, and he makes out her shimmering eyes in the darkness.

“I cheated on you. Aren’t you mad?”

A gigantic sigh shakes his shoulders as these past six months flash before his eyes.

“I was angry, Emma. But it’s been too long, I’m not anymore.”

“Too long?”

Oh, right, that. She’ll hate him, but well, she deserves the truth. He winces, fidgets with the collar of his shirt.

“I might have been hiding this letter from you for a good six months now…” he whispers, and forces a smile on his face as an apology.

“You what?”

She doesn’t sound nearly as angry as he expected her to. In fact, she doesn’t sound angry at all. She sounds defeated, hopeless.

“I was so scared that if I confronted you, you would just run and never marry me, and I thought I could hold on to you by not telling you…But I was wrong. There was no holding on to you.”

And something terrible rattles her body then, as she cups her face and disappears even more in a small, scared puddle over the bed.

“Fuck. I’m sorry Neal. I ruined everything.”

And he shakes his head then, grabs one of her hands. “There’s no need to apologize, Emma. We both fucked up. I should have let you go a long time ago.”

His throat is tight, but he knows this is the right thing to do.

“What are we going to do now?” she whispers, just as one of his arms comes to wrap around her shoulders.

She muffles a sigh in the crook of his neck while he gently brushes her hair.

“I don’t know. Is there some kind of three weeks wedding notice?”

She chuckles then, but he can clearly imagine the tears rolling down her cheeks as she sniffles into his neck.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I am.”

Silence. By then, it’s somehow raining in the room and his shirt is soaked.

“I’ll always love you. You know that, right, Emma?”

She nods in the darkness, her hand clutching onto his shoulder, and she seems to him a firefly caught between a child’s chubby hands.

“I know, Neal.”

“Good.”

Moving out of this house is one of the weirdest things Emma has ever had to do.

“Emma, you’re not coming?” calls David’s voice, and Emma looks up to see his head peering from the driver’s seat of his old, orange truck.

Safely packing all of the pieces of furniture was a collective effort. Mary Margaret, Ingrid and Ruby also came to help, and Emma is quite thankful. It’s such a blinding, sunny day of August, and if not for the fresh breeze that swirls between the tree branches, it would be unbreathable.

Emma simply shakes her head. “No, don’t worry. I’ll join you guys later at Granny’s.”

Her right foot nearly knocks out the small cardboard box at her feet, sending a loop down her stomach.

This one she’ll carry herself.

Neal and Emma agreed to sell the house and the furniture, and Neal – well Neal decided to move to Boston, and Emma cannot quite blame him.

This last month has been…weird, on so many levels, and Neal wasn’t the weirdest thing about it.

“Alright. Call us if you need anything.”

As David drives away, Emma stares back at the house. Her feet seem buried into the doormat, the door still open wide, and her fingers clutch onto the keys.

It is a bittersweet sight, those empty walls.

She thinks life has a funny way of coming around. She thinks she thought she’d have a family there, with Neal, she thinks she thought this was what she wanted, what she could bear to have and risk losing.

She’s glad that Neal showed himself braver than she ever could. That he refused to settle, for both of their sakes.

She inhales deeply.

Exhales.

And lets it go. All of it.

Click, she locks the door, and turns her back on her past.

A summer breeze greets her face, swirls around her legs and tangles her hair, and she closes her eyes into the warm embrace. It carries childhood smells, this smell of burnt wood, and Rocky Road ice-cream, and Killian’s cologne.

“Heard you needed help moving out?” Her eyes snap open. Her heart skips a beat.

It’s August in Storybrooke, Maine, and anything is possible again.

The wind carries the first fallen leaves to her feet and his scent to her heart. Something mystical splits her face as she takes a step towards him. She nearly trips on the cardboard box at her feet, again, grunts and picks it up in a blink, and she hears it – his laughter in the wind.

As she looks up, a flower blooms in her chest, carries blood to her heart and her face with its roots, and her lungs are soon filled to the brim with petals.

“Yeah.” A quivering whisper, it is hard to breathe when the sun drops golden and blue beams into his eyes. “Thank you, Killian.”

And in a few strides he imprisons the cardboard box she held against her chest, the one containing memories of her childhood, and his eyes are so warm on her face that he steals her breath away.

“Any baggage left?” he asks, and it is a hoarse whisper as well.

She swallows hard.

She shivers beside him. She’s a fallen leaf herself, caught in a whirlwind. Her eyes are open wide and she feels completely swallowed by his gaze but it is a wonderful kind of fear.

“Not at all.”

And he smiles then, and it is one of the most gentle smiles she’s seen on his face, and at last, he is Killian and she is Emma.

“Good.”

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

@yasbio2015 @bubblegum1425 @daenerysmyhsa @dancingnancyy @elizabeethan @farewell-courgette @beca0912 @stina-g @tenaciouskittynightmare @noensnaringnet @klynn-stormz @sekretny13 @tiganasummertree @vvbooklady1256 @brustudyblog @peggyyswan @thisonesatellite @ohmightydevviepuu @courtorderedcake @snowbellewells @kingofmyheart14 @teamhook @mariakov81 @folkloreismylullaby @officerrogers

#cs ff #cs fanfics #captain swan #my stuff #love emma #thank you guys again for your support <3

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ootori-sibs · 3 years

Text

Kyoya's second shot

Episode three: Dawn of a new day

There was something off about Haruhi the next day, none of the hosts knew what was up with her- no one but Kyoya. He smiled the moment he saw her walk in, face curled into a look of disgust. He noted it down as she sat down, frowning.

11:30 - Haruhi has arrived, it's evident Nekozawa has done his job. It's my turn.

He approached her, trying to not to react to the smell. "Are you alright Haruhi? You look troubled." She looked up at him curiously, tilting her head slightly.

"I think Nekozawa-senpai did something to my bag." Oh. She got it instantly, that was unexpected. Kyoya hummed nonchalantly, not wanting to give anything away.

"What did he-"

"Oh heavens!" Here came the darling king, swooping in to save his precious 'princess'. "Are you alright Haruhi? You aren't cursed are you??" Both Haruhi and Kyoya sighed at that, Kyoya instantly feeling furious at her for sighing- why don't you appreciate your boyfriend's care? Huh? Bitch? Kyoya would love and appreciate that kind of care so much, he's only sighing because his plan is already failing.

"Nah I'm not cursed, I think he put something super stinky in my bag…" she hummed in thought, rummaging through the bag. She pulled out a black envelope, the source of the smell. It was closed with a wax seal and written on in crimson ink, a curse in latin.

Dominus soporem in tenebris, et funiculus iste coccineus et habitatores figure non amare Princeps Ouran. classis superioris, dimiserunt eam cadere a gratia Dei.

Kyoya knew Latin, and he found it amusing what Nekozawa had said, making sure to not show any signs of amusement as Tamaki panicked over the clear curse and Haruhi carefully opened the envelope. The curse read: 'Dark lord in slumber, let this scarlet figure never settle in love with the prince of Ouran. Let her fall from the graces of the upper class'. Kyoya absolutely loved the little nod to his own command, Umehito was always one for poetic justice.

Haruhi pulled a burnt stick of elderwood, the rest of the envelope was filled with dodder and deadly nightshade. It was soaked through with a horrendous perfume, Nekozawa's handiwork, with which he'd gotten Kirimis help, the younger a child the more evil, Kyoya's own brother had told him that. She looked at it with a frown, ignoring Tamaki's wide eyes and blabbering expression, instead heading straight to the bin to dispose of the curse. "What a weird guy, wonder how I annoyed him." But it wasn't him she'd pissed off, and she'd soon be made aware.

"How are you not worried!?" The king cried out, clearly genuinely scared his princess would be hurt. "You were cursed!!" Kyoya sighed, he was unbelievably bitter that Haruhi was already fucking things up for him, but also didn't want Tamaki to fret too much.

"And she got rid of it, therefore: no longer cursed." He hated to admit that his plan was already failing but it was ok, he was sure Nekozawa could up his game on the same day. In fact he quickly sent a text to the councils newly made group chat to ensure it.

Shadow king: Nekozawa. You're not doing well enough, Haruhi has located and dispelled your "curse" within seconds. Do better or we'll move forward without you.

Sorcerer: Of course, it shall be done.

Kyoya was glad Nekozawa was taking his job seriously, although it wasn't a real threat, Kyoya needed him for the plan to work. He returned to his seat, silently continuing with the finances.

Not an hour later, Haruhi was sweating like a pig, looking exhausted and so much more what Kyoya had expected from a curse. She told Tamaki she didn't know what was wrong, he clutched her close, cradling her softly. It made Kyoya feel sick… then Tamaki yelped, pulling his hand away from Haruhi's middle back.

"What the hell was that? You're boiling!" He points to a place at Haruhi's back, and the twins come swooping in, pulling her shirt up just so. Salts, a cloth laden with hot water and salts- a fake fever. Kyoya couldn't believe Haruhi hadn't noticed that before now, it was stupid.

"Huh… that's weird, do you think it was Nekozawa again?" Haruhi asked, holding the cloth, the twins shrugged, tilting their heads in unison.

"Not sure, probably." They spoke in unison, clearly feeling something off. "Why is he suddenly targeting you… did you do something to the puppet?"

"Not that I know of…" The four of them began theorising ways Haruhi could have pissed Nekozawa off, perfect, Kyoya had a willing scapegoat.

Shadow king: Do you have a scoop yet, Komatsuzawa?

Bitchboy: I have a few ideas, but I'd like to change my nickname first.

Child: but it's so fitting

Bitchboy: Silence child.

Shadow king: You may change your name once you prove yourself useful. What's your scoop?

Bitchboy: Well her father's "career" is certainly one sure to cause a stir.

Shadow king: Absolutely not, we will not be insulting Ranka in order to bring Haruhi down. He doesn't deserve that.

Bitchboy: What? Ugh, fine. There's also, we could imply she's been with the twins?

Shadow king: But the twins have done nothing wrong.

Kyoya sighed, sure his plan would hurt them all, but he didn't want to hurt his friends unnecessarily. They didn't deserve that… he could feel the guilt building up again. He was never the best with emotions…

"Mommy dear?"

Tamaki's voice rang in Kyoya's ears, startling him slightly, not looking over but just staring at the numbers on his screen, clutching his phone tightly, as if it would suppress the notification sound. "Yes Daddy?" The stupid nicknames Tamaki insisted on using, it just reminded Kyoya of how things should be. He should be the one by Tamaki's side, club mother, vice president, shadow king. They were the monarchs of Ouran, the most powerful students there, why weren't they together..?

"Are you alright?" Tamaki frowned, leaning closer, wrapping his arms around Kyoya and resting his head on his shoulder. Kyoya felt his cheeks heat up, but he was likely wearing enough makeup to hide it. "I was going to ask about the finances but you seem a little on edge mon ami, is everything okay?"

Kyoya felt guilty, Tamaki was so sweet, so good. Kyoya was doing such evil acts, and his beloved had no idea… he had no idea he was even the one Kyoya loved. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in an attempt to battle the feelings into submission, lest the tears well up. "I'm fine, Tamaki, don't be ridiculous."

"Why are you on edge then?" Kyoya felt his phone buzz gently, putting him even more on edge, luckily it didn't seem like Tamaki noticed. Kyoya wasn't quite sure how to respond to the king's question, he couldn't think of a good excuse.

"Why is it important? There's nothing wrong with simply being startled, I can't always be on high alert, I'm no guard dog." His words bit back at the princeling with venom, he couldn't think of a good defence, so he faked spite and hoped it would work.

Surprisingly, Tamaki did indeed back off, looking confused, and slightly hurt. It was ok though, Kyoya told himself, this was all for Tamaki's sake in the end. He checked his phone.

Bitchboy: We could say she's a lesbian? She did kiss a girl after all.

Not to mention all the hosting she'd done with the ladies… oh, Kyoya could see the headline already. He was almost positive she was bisexual anyway, it wasn't that much of a strech… he paused, what was Akira saying though? Was he suggesting Haruhi didn't really love Tamaki like would be perfect, or was he trying to be homophobic?

Shadow king: Elaborate?

Bitchboy: Do I really need to?

Peasant: well it does sound kinda homophobic to claim that sort of thing could ruin her image…

Bitchboy: Ruining her image is the whole point, moron.

Shadow king: How do you entirely miss the point like that?

It's almost impressive.

But you're the moron Komatsuzawa.

You better find something a little less incriminating of your own mind.

Kyoya sighed heavily, why must he surround himself with such disgusting people. It wasn't hard to find good people, hell, he was surrounded by at least folks good enough at pretending to be good, the issue was that good people never wanted to do bad things. So this was what he must do.

13:30 - The folks I surround myself with make me sick. But it must be done. Tamaki has begun to show slight worry towards my more nervous mannerisms, I managed to get him to stand down. I have yet to perform my duty.

Bitchboy: Of course you'd support that kind of behaviour, Ootori.

Kyoya frowned down at his phone, this little dick… He glanced over at Tamaki, who had just asked him a question, although he had failed to process it. "I'm sorry Tamaki, what was that?"

"I said; are you coming to lunch with us? You haven't joined us at all this week."

"Ah," Kyoya began, it was true he hadn't joined them at all, but that was simply because he hadn't had lunch all week, "I'm afraid I won't be joining you today either, please enjoy yourself." He smiles, a polite, designed to placate, smile. Turning back to his phone, he replied to Akira's message.

Shadow king: And what exactly does that mean?

Bitchboy: Well you're the same aren't you?

Sorcerer: Aw, don't be mean just because you're correct. He's Souh-san's best friend.

Akira had sent another text after that, but Kyoya didn't want to think about it, he'd used a word he didn't even think people used unless they were openly violent, or gay themselves. So that was just wonderful, Kyoya was working with a homophobe, lovely. He decided to at least note this down before doing his own part of the deal.

13:32 - Akira Komatsuzawa is a homophobe.

He left his phone on silent and in his bag, before standing and walking over to Haruhi's bag, digging through carefully, not wanting to make it look too obvious things had been looked through. He took her phone out of the bag, looking it over carefully, oh, she had a cute set of phone charms… little plastic roses, and there was one in each of the host's colours. Even purple. Kyoya took great care with removing that charm, tucking it into his pocket gently. He may mean malice towards the commoner, but he wouldn't hurt anything with sentimental value, at least if it could be avoided.

He made his way to the window, looking out. There were too many people, he couldn't achieve it like this. So he instead went out into the hallway, walking in the opposite direction from the canteen, making his way down to the ground floor and then outside. He knew exactly where to go.

He was a lover of poetic justice, just like Umehito, and he could remember Haruhi's first week. The poor, poor commoner was bullied by one of Tamaki's regulars. That girl had thrown Haruhi's bag in the fountain to the east of the club room, the one with the cherub without wings. As Kyoya made his way to that very fountain, he thought about how ironic it would be if he put her phone in that very fountain. So that's what he would do.

When he got there, he saw the exact girl he'd been thinking about, sat there, with a little bento box her maids had made for her. She looked up at him and frowned. "What are you doing out here? Why aren't you with the rest of your club?"

"Hello Ayanokoji, do you know who this belongs to?" He holds up the phone, knowing full well she knew who's it was.

"That's Fujioka's phone… why do you have it?" She asked him, clearly on the defensive, not understanding why he was here. To answer her question, Kyoya simply lifted his hand and tossed the phone into the water idly. Looking her in the eyes as he does so, watching hers go wide "Wha-? Huh??" It seemed she'd assumed all the hosts were under Haruhi's thumb.

"Help me, Seika Ayanokoji, we have the same goals in mind." He offered her entrance to the council, without letting her know it existed. Kyoya even held his hand out to her, it was obvious from his body language that he was offering her an opportunity, but his words seemed like the deal would only benefit him. So he wasn't surprised to hear her response:

"What's in it for me?" She'd glanced down at his hand in suspicion, before looking back up at him, not trusting his words one bit.

"Oh let's see…" he pretended to think, already knowing exactly what to offer her. "I'll remove you from the club's black list." He knew for a fact that that'd get her going, she was the same as all the other girls after all. Her eyes widening at the prospect of being hosted by Tamaki once again proved him right, although he couldn't say he didn't blame her- they did have similar motives.

She took his hand, standing and giving him a smirk. "You've got a deal, what do you need me to do?"

Kyoya just smiled wickedly in response.

"I want you to do anything in your power to make that commoner suffer. Don't let anyone know I'm involved, but get anyone you want involved. Cause her trouble, make her look bad, make her out to be just what you think of her."

"A little mutt with no pedigree?" She asked, eyes sparkling maliciously, she already knew the answer.

"Precisely, we both know she's not. But the general student body don't need to know that, do they?" He shrugs, casually turning away from her, preparing to walk away.

"You can count on me." She assured, voice full of confidence and spite, exactly what Kyoya needed from his council. He'd originally hated her for being so uppity, then she'd done all that to Haruhi and he'd decided he hated her for being a bully… but bullies can be awfully useful, if you have them on your team.

He got back to the club room, silently tapping his foot on the floor as he took his phone out in order to add her to the group, pausing when he saw Akira's reply.

Bitchboy: Well there is that manager of your club, didn't she pursue the girl?

Kyoya smiled, of course, Renge. She was the perfect scapegoat, it was clear the duo had chemistry. Haruhi had gone to Renge's place after all, no one knows what could have possibly happened there…

Shadow king: Alright then, write your article.

But I will be reading it before it's published.

Kyoya sighed, adding the newest council member to the group chat.

>Seika Ayanokoji joined the group

>Shadow king changed Seika Ayanokoji to Woman#2

Woman#2: Wh

Why do I have to be woman two??

Woman: Bonjour.

Child: Holy shit there are girls here?

Bitchboy: How did we not notice this before?

Shadow king: Miss Ayanokoji will be helping us from now on, she will be present at the next meeting.

I want you all to get along.

He put his phone down just as the other hosts walked back in, combing their hair and adjusting their uniform in preparation to open the club to the guests. Kyoya smiled softly, this was going to be a fun term...

14:12 - Seika Ayanokoji has joined the council, she has been removed from the club blacklist.

A very fun term…

#ouran high school host club #tamaki suoh #takashi morinozuka #tamakyo #tamaharu #kyoya ootori #hikaru and kaoru #haruhi fujioka #nekozowa #eclair Tonnerre

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