#the fic of starstruck present and the fic of starstruck yet to come. it's so dumb | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jflemings · 4 months

Text

— grave

pairing: chris sturniolo x reader

summary: chris can’t commit and you’ve finally had enough

warnings: drinking, angst, mentions of sex but no actual suggestive content

a/n: i know i said that a matt fic would be next but after watching chris’s interview i couldn’t shake this idea!! hurt my feelings will be the next one tho :) ALSOOO for the sake of the fic, y/n is friends with sophia birlem, halle vaneta ect <3

— I COULD NEVER MAKE YOU WANT ME LIKE I WANTED TO BE WANTED

I COULD NEVER REALLY CHANGE YOU LIKE I THOUGHT THAT I COULD

your heart dropped straight to your ass when you finished watching the clip of chris that had come across your for you page.

you had honestly been so excited for him to go on the zach sang show, having watched a few interviews yourself, and had done nothing but support and praise chris when he told you. now though, you felt stupid.

“i’m not looking for love, my goal is to meet someone and be starstruck by them” is what he has said when the topic of relationships had come up, further pushing the narrative that he wasn’t really interested in them. you were left speechless as he said that, not fully expecting him to say it the way he did and it had left your heart breaking in your chest.

you felt used and humiliated the more you watched the clip that had been posted by the fanpage. a lump had lodged itself in the base of your throat and a deep pit was achingly present in your stomach. chris had, essentially, been using you for the past six months to get what he wanted out of a relationship without actually being in one, and you had let him.

as the cogs turn in your head you begin to realise that everything the two of you did together meant nothing to him. the vulnerable conversations, the dates, the sex, all of it had been for nothing in the long run; he had just told the internet that he wasn’t in love with you. you knew chris, and his dating habits, but you had foolishly thought that maybe things were changing for him, that maybe he was beginning to feel the same way you had been feeling for far too long.

the truth was that you were in love with chris and that you had been for a little while now. he treated you with the upmost respect and kindness, always paying attention to your needs and the little things you did. he was constantly checking up on you and asking about how your day was, buying you lunch when you had to work and even getting you ‘just because’ flowers whenever he felt like it.

you just felt fucking sick.

throwing the covers off yourself, you begin to gather your things from around his room. you emptied the drawer full of your clothes he kept for you, took back your makeup wipes and spare toothbrush that was in his bathroom and stuffed it all in the overnight bag you brought with you everytime you stayed the night with him. frustrated tears pool on your waterline as you slide your shoes on and throw your bag over your shoulder, not even paying attention as your phone buzzes in your hand.

you don’t look at your illuminated screen as you walk out the door and straight to your car. you unlock it swiftly and waste no time in sliding into the driver’s seat and backing out of the driveway. you were just lucky that the triplets had all stepped out for a little while, meaning that you didn’t have to face chris and the truth just yet.

there’s no music playing through your car speakers and you still haven’t looked at your phone. the longer you sit in silence with the text message on your mind, the more tears seem to form in your eyes.

when the two of you started your ‘relationship’ chris had mentioned that he wasn’t necessarily looking for a long term thing, and that he was just enjoying his time getting to know you. at first, you were pretty accepting of this due to the fact that you felt the same way but over time, your feelings started to change.

chris was just such a gentle person in every way. he was constantly making sure you felt comfortable and okay around him, never once over stepping a boundary or putting you in an uncomfortable position. he didn’t pressure you to follow him to events or make you go out when you weren’t feeling up to it, always just brushing it off and giving you a kiss as he left, telling you to call if you needed anything.

similarly, you never made him feel like he had to hang around your friends or show you off to any degree, always trying to keep it casual and comfortable for him whenever you got the feeling you were getting too close. his commitment issues had been the topic of conversation before and you had reassured him endlessly that you didn’t expect him to step into the boyfriend role if that wasn’t what he wanted to do. he had appreciated your words but ended up ignoring them anyway as he began to give you the girlfriend treatment without you ever saying a word about it.

chris was the one who initiated a lot of the couple-y stuff. he was the one who wanted to introduce you to his friends and family, and now he was the one going on a podcast and saying how he wasn’t looking for love.

you pull up to your apartment and practically throw the car in park, your movements harsh and frustrated. with heavy eyes and a tear-stained face, you trudge to your apartment almost mindlessly, the sound of you shuffling shoes echoing on the cold ground. immediately upon unlocking and opening your apartment door, you are faced with a hoodie that chris had carelessly thrown onto the back of your couch.

after staring at the article of clothing for what felt like an eternity, your phone began to buzz repeatedly from your back pocket. the messages come one after the other, sending anxious vibrations up your spine.

you reluctantly pull the device out of your jeans and quickly sift through your notifications. one from sophia and four from chris.

soph is telling you, rather than asking, that you’re her plus one for a party tonight. she ends the message with ‘don’t ditch me for chris pls’ and you can’t help but smile bitterly. you quickly shoot her a text back confirming that you most definitely will be there tonight before going into your conversation with chris.

you can’t stop your eyes from rolling dramatically. there was no way he could know what the problem was, and you honestly didn’t expect him to, but you really didn’t have the energy for this right now. there was nothing else that could be said to try to change his mind and you were done trying.

— TABLES TURNED, NOW I’M OUT, AND YOU JUST CALLED LIKE THIRTY TIMES

ALWAYS A FUNNY THING WATCHING THE TOUGH GUY PLEAD, OH, BABY

heavy bass thumped through your chest as sophia’s hands snaked around your waist from behind you. she held you loosly whilst guiding your body with the beat, the two of you being lost in the sweaty bodies and the music.

chris had called you so many times that you’d had to turn your phone off completely. tonight was not about him, and you were not about to fall back into whatever you had with the youngest triplet after what he said.

on one hand you felt stupid for being so petty but on the other, you felt like it was deserved. you had tried your hardest to communicate though your actions that you wanted more with him, that what the two of you had was no longer enough.

you lean back onto soph and smile wide. locked out of heaven’s pre-chorus begins and soph’s grip on your waist tightens as the two of you begin to sing loudly along with the crowd

“cause your sex takes me to paradise, yeah your sex takes me to paradise!”

the two of you raise your solo cups to the ceiling in unison, halle making her way over to join you. she sways her hips along with the two of you and you turn on your heel so that the three of you are facing one another in a small circle. halle’s arms wrap around both you and sophia’s shoulders and she pulls you in along with the music.

your eyes screw shut with glee as you laugh with your friends. adrenaline and dopamine flood your brain and your body, the problems of today being momentarily forgotten the longer you scream bruno mars. you open your eyes to look at sophia, only to see chris making his way through the pool of bodies. his eyes are trained on you with relentless determination, causing you to pause. sophia and halle don’t notice until he’s right up in your space, breaking the safe circle the three of you have created.

his cologne floods your nose as he leans into your ear “we need to talk” he says sternly, his mouth pressed to the shell of your ear.

you shake your head and bring your cup up to your lips, taking a big gulp whilst looking him in the eye. he watches your throat bob as you swallow and looks into your eyes, the determination melting into pleading.

he doesn’t like your answer, and makes sure to let you know by grabbing your wrist and dragging you off the dance floor. whether it’s the alcohol or the fact that you’re just weak for chris, you don’t know, but you allow him to pull you into an empty room off to the side.

chris clicks the door shut and you slide down the wall next to the door, your eyes still trained on your drink

“y/n” he starts “what’s going on? you haven’t answered any of my texts or calls today and none of your stuff is at my place”

“i know” you slur “whoops” you respond nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders

he sighs deeply “whoops? are you kidding me? what’s going on!” his hands run over his face in annoyance at your useless response, clearly not wanting to do this with you right now.

“just let me take you home to sober up and we’ll talk, please”

you can’t help but scoff “i’m not going home chris. i’m having a good time with my friends” you spit at him, raising your cup for emphasis “and i’d rather go home with anyone else at this fucking party, at least then i’d know that they’re just using me for sex”

his jaw goes slack and his eyebrows raise in both surprise and confusion “what the fuck are you talking about”

“i’m talking about you leading me on! the least you could do is be honest with me” your words begin to slur at the end of your sentence “stupid fucking boys” you mumble, your head leaning back against the wall with a thunk.

“you’re drunk” he whispers whilst looking down at his shoes

you look at him down your nose through half-hooded eyes, the liquid courage suddenly increasing “no, i’m over you”

chris’s head snaps up suddenly, his eyes blown wide with hurt evident on his face “you don’t mean that”

“i’m done asking you to want me” you laugh bitterly “especially after you get on a fucking podcast and tell the internet that you’re not looking for love”

everything seems to click for chris in that moment. he crouches down in front of you and sits back on his haunches, his pretty blue eyes finding yours “baby…” he speaks softly to you.

tears begin to form in your eyes and you place your drink down on the floor next to you “no, chris! do you know what that felt like!?” your voice raises “what, did you only treat me like your girlfriend so i’d keep having sex with you? was that the reason you kept me around?”

venom drips from your words as you begin to shout “or was it because you KNEW how i feel? huh, chris? did i boost your ego enough that you felt like you didn’t need me anymore?”

chris’s eyes soften as he looks at you. your makeup is well and truely ruined by now, your mascara now running down your face. he opens his mouth to say something but closes it when he realises he doesn’t know what to say. your own mouth drops open in shock, a sarcastic laugh leaving your lips when you realise that he really wasn’t going to answer you.

you abruptly stand, leaving chris to fall backwards onto his hands. you look down at him with a sneer, disgust and hurt cloaking your normally soft features “so you can go on a stranger’s podcast and run your fucking mouth but you can’t defend yourself to me?”

the semi-dried tear tracks on your face are replaced by fresh ones as he still says nothing, the look of hurt never leaving his baby blue eyes.

scoffing, you pick up your drink and turn on your heel to walk out the door “fuck you christopher. you’re nothing to me”

— I WAS TRYNA MAKE US SOMETHING OUTTA NOTHING

WE WERE NOTHING AT ALL

#pegs writes #pegs sturniolos #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fic #chris sturniolo imagine #Spotify #song fic #sturniolo smut

52 notes · View notes

the-cookie-of-doom · 1 month

Text

Kims characterization in Technicality is becoming very interesting. At first I didn’t have anything really in mind for this fic outside of the camboy thing, but now it’s like. He did it to act out against his father, sure. But he’s also still a virgin despite that bc he can’t stand to be touched. Reason for that as yet undecided. He’s not exactly reclusive like Tankhun is, but he’s definitely very cut off/isolated. Part of that is the nature of his work; he’s famous enough that he’s been stalked, so he’s naturally very suspicious of anyone he meets, especially anyone that’s too friendly. Which means he’s not set up to be very receptive to people flirting with him.

Then there’s a whole thing with Tawan that happened when he was a teenager. Nothing between them ever happened, but Kim did get weird vibes; it’s not until present time of the fic that Kim finds out the reason reason Kinn broke up with him.

So overall, Kim is very suspicious and standoffish. His approach to his only fans is very business oriented and analytical; he does it less because he wanted to be a porn star and more because he knew there was a niche he could fill, giving himself a disappointing (to his father) but successful career. Not exactly the manic pixie dream girl type. He’s honestly so cold about it that Tankhun thinks he might be asexual.

Then he meets Chay. Who is less starstruck and more just struck, absolutely terrified. He recognizes Kim on sight and he’s weird about it, but he’s weird in a way that makes Kim a little crazy for it, bc it comes from a place of being surprised and intimidated rather then stalker ish and entitled. So obvs Kim has to mess with him a little bit, right?

And Chay proves himself worthy; he’s always very polite and respectful, even when Kim is bullying him (with porn). Never treats him like an object even when he’s talking about the filthy things he wants to do to Kim.

And all of this is why suddenly this fic is a looot longer. Given Kim’s intimacy issues, I want to really drag out their relationship. Kim can be very forward about sex stuff; given it’s his day job, he’s desensitized to it. But most of that happens behind the safety of a phone or computer. Kim can sex chay up all night long, but the second Chay starts wanting to get to know him, suddenly he’s awkward and shy and doesn’t know what he’s doing. (Chay’s a little crazy for it. He wants to bundle Kim up in a pile of blankets and lovingly hold him while fucking him through the mattress.)

Idk, just some rambling thoughts

#cookie speaks #cookie writes #kimchay

53 notes · View notes

onlyseokmins · 1 year

Text

A/N: don't even ask me where this came from I was doing dishes and had a THOT when I should be doing other things 😔 anyways tw: for degradation and slapping mostly just in case. 🤷🏻‍♀️ I might elaborate on this in an actual fic so getting this out of my system and archiving for later maybe 😉

Coworker Jeonghan who keeps sending not so subtle glances over at you during a company outing. Your secretary and best friend catches his action and snorts, shaking her head. Meanwhile, the giggling interns and newer employees you oversee all stare at you starstruck, their respectable senior, for also catching the attention of such a handsome man.

"How do you know him?" they flock to you and ask, although they're genuinely curious. "Do you know him or is he your secret admirer?"

"Not so secret now."

You glare at Mina. "We used to date in high school and well into college until he decided to take an offer overseas."

"So you're a couple?"

"We were. Obviously we broke up when LDR inevitably failed."

The promising new hire you've been keeping an eye on sighs wistfully. "Old flames never die, do they?"

"We're just coworkers. Acquaintances even. We both agreed to split on amicable terms."

"You're so cool," they gush enthusiastically, "not to have feelings anymore and be so professional."

"As expected of our leader!"

"The ultimate role model in the office!"

You can't help but thrive off of their praise, clinking your glass of water to their alcoholic ones. You smile brightly with your best work attitude, ignoring the dark look Jeonghan is sending your way.

It doesn't matter because you know he'll meet you in the hotel after at precisely 10 'o clock. He's never late and hates to wait.

That's why you're ready by 9:55, sharp. Blouse unbuttoned and skirt riding past your ass, presenting yourself prettily on the bed. Dripping pussy soaking your tiny lace thong faces the door, the first thing Jeonghan sees when he barges through.

He sighs harshly through his nose, though grunts in approval at seeing you just how he likes. The first thing on the docket once you're within reach is to deliver a harsh slap across your ass. The sting makes you moan yet you're already seeing stars when he tears away the scrap of fabric barely concealing your puffy clit. Again.

"Sucking up all that praise from your juniors. What was it? Being calm and collected? Cool-headed? About me?" He scoffs. "A shame I'm the only one who knows the truth."

"I just bought that pair," you complain and try to conceal your smile when he slaps you again.

"Then don't act up," Jeonghan mutters. He frowns, knowing how much you're actually enjoying this and grips the back of your neck, urging you to rise up on your knees. Back flush against his chest, he whispers in your ear. "And tell me the truth."

"I'm a slut. I love being degraded."

"That's right," he drops you forward again, fingers brushing against your bare cunt. "And whose slut are you?"

"Yours."

"And who do you like being degraded by?"

"You!"

He smirks at your elated gasp, the pretty way your arch your back as when he eases a finger inside your warm pussy.

"And who jumped on me the minute my feet touched down on our home turf? Begged me to come apply to their company so I could fuck them like I never left inside their office? Every. Fucking. Lunch break."

He punctuates those last four winders by stuffing you full of his fingers, pausing so you'll answer him. Pussy already clenching at the memories of bouncing on his dick in your leather office chair during a conference call.

Poor Mina.

"Me!"

"That's right. Desperate whore. No one can satisfy this pathetic pussy better than I can, huh?"

"You're right," you sob out in ecstacy when he begins to slide his fingers back and forth only to leave your hole altogether.

Jeonghan moves from the side of the bed to the other and sits down, loosening his tie. He waits for you to crawl over like you know how to, despite your trembling limbs. Shaking hands already reaching for the zipper on his dress pants but he swats them away.

"Then prove I'm right. How much you want me always," he hisses and presses your mouth against the bulge of his dick hidden in his pants. "Take it out with your mouth, slut. If you're desperate enough, you'll be able to, won't you?"

You're already getting to work, eyes shining and focused on the prize. He sighs in relief when your lips wrap around him, running a hand through his blonde bangs.

"That's my pretty slut."

#Damn back to finals and wonu thriller <3 #ez.thots #hannie.thots #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #Brain go brrrrrrrrrrr #I didn't think much w/ this so #Bye!#svt.thots

262 notes · View notes

rayshippouuchiha · 1 year

Note

Hi again!

I just noticed you got into the KHR fandom and I'm so excited, welcome!!

I come bearing a few reccs from the fandom:

Birthright by Morcai

Tsuna time-travels, deals with some heavy PTSD and there is comfort delivered by, surprisingly, Kyoya.

Game Over and Over Again by Writing_Frenzy

Tsuna time-travels (again), has a brother and both adore each other, Tsuna is a veritable badass, qnd is the epitome of the 😐 emoji.

(Warning: It gets pretty dark and gory sometimes)

Namimori Gods by renysen

This one is 1827, Kyoya is the reincarnation of a god and looking for the god's godly-wife reincarnation is a Namimori tradition.

Of course, this is KHR, so chaos ensues.

Come Together series by mhwright

In which everybody tries to kill Tsuna when he's a kid, and one day says enough is enough and ask his usual not-quite savior, Hibari Kyouya, to teach him self defense. This changes everything. There is BAMF! Tsuna, Feral!Kyoya, chaos, lught PDA and affection and a lot of confusion for Tsuna's estranged brother, the Decimo candidate. 1827.

Un Fiore Per Te by Cissnei69 (in FFN)

Tsuna lives in an orphanage run by Angie Martinelli, Peggy Carter's friend and somehow it devolves into getting the Winter Soldier to becone her cloud. Actually, there are a *lot* of clouds involved. And somehow, Shamal.

MarvelxKHR crossover, incomplete but is amazingly good.

Cirrus Cloud by CeiaOfSilence

In which Fem!Harry is cloud who has a couple of personas, likes to create chaos and somehow befriended Viper.

Teeth and Claws by TheShadowSwan

Another Fem!Harry is Skulls, but instead of a couple of personas there is a lot of separate personalities, and Skull is a badass. set before the Arcobaleno were cursed for now.

Of Organized Crime and Schizophrenia by AshGopal (FFN)

In which Tsuna is the reincarnation of Senju Tsunade, Jirayja and Orochimaru also are present, the medical procedures in the fic are amazingly written and somehow there is yakuza, flames and chakra.

(Warning: this one can get pretty gory and very detailed abt it)

Starstruck by Little_Miss_Bunny

One of my favorites of the fandom; Tsuna is a normal guy who has a lot of jobs to be able to raise his adoptive siblings, and everyone else (except for Haru, who is his best friend) is an idol and mostly are part of a group. Somehow they are always bunping into Tsuna and Shenanigans happen. Romcom.

Bandaged Hand by Jorie2127 (Flight_orFight)

Tsuna time-travels (yet again) and meets some of the arcobaleno before the first arcobaleno meeting. Romance.

For The Last Time, I'm Not Your Wife! by Gothickprincess

In which every arcobaleno falls in love with Skull, and they're very possessive, and willing to do everything to win his affections. Sky!Skull (I think? Ot's been a while lol), poly!ArcoxSkull.

The Vigilante Boss and His Failed Retirement Plan by Fey_Storyteller

Tsuna (and Giotto) reincarnates into Midoriya Izuku, and promptly wants to retire and live a normal life. Sadly, he's still in middle school and everybody think he just gained his quirk, a perfect one for a hero. Everyone wants him to become one, and fortunately for them, Vongola Intuition may leave him no choice. BAMF-But-Tired!Izuku.

I hope you like them and welcome to the fandom!

!!!!!

#RayRambles #KHR #Katekyo Hitman Reborn #Fic Rec

118 notes · View notes

lyman-garfiel · 5 months

Note

so you ship your oc with scarab? for clarification? tell me more about that dynamic ??

HI!! I NEED YOU TO KNOW I STARTED CLAWING AT MY SCREEN AGAIN WHEN RECEIVING THIS ASK!!

Scaraman has been living in my brain for months now. There is a LOT going on with them, good god, So the best way I can describe their dynamic is they bond over mutual hate.

Lyman is in a job position where he has to be the therapist for,,,,,anyone who comes to him and it has drained his ability to feel compassion for other people, this job was orbo’s idea and he fucking hates that ball for it. [also he runs a tavern as part of his job, listen it just..,makes sense ] He also has his own reasons to dislike Prismo. They are petty reasons as Lyman is a petty person but reasons nonetheless. so, to explain lyman’s character before I get into his dynamic with scarab, he is forced to be polite and supportive despite the fact he hates everybody, he is a ticking time bomb of bottled up rage in need of therapy.

This is why Scarab peaked his interest, though Scarab only came to the tavern on a job Lyman immediately wanted to know more about him, and the two started hanging out past closing and it just kinda went “oh yeah that guy you hate? Yeah I hate him too” and they kinda develop an ‘us against them mentality’. They feel more “real” around each other not having to put a front up when they are together causing them to become really close friends and it slowly develops into a romantic relationship because these bitches BOTH INEPT WHEN IT COMES TO DISCUSSING HOW THEY FEEL ABOUT ANOTHER BEING.

They have a mutual respect for eachother but lyman specifically is,,,,,,an asshole..and will be the first guy to scold Scarab on any dumb decision he makes [affectionately of course], These girlies both have severe anger issues superiority complexes to the point they’d wear matching suits to their anger management classes <3.

Scarab is the one entity who knows Lyman for Lyman and not the cheery kind facade he legally has to put up around people. Meaning he is the only one who knows Lyman is 5 seconds away from snapping at any given moment and he respects Lyman’s ability to have been calm this long Despite the fact my guy is shaking like a chihuahua with repressed anger. Also lyman is like,,,,the one guy scarab is intimidated by Enough that he’ll actually listen to him. Since Lyman feels like he can be himself around scarab he actually enjoys letting the bug man vent to him, the ONE time lyman enjoys being a therapy lizard is with his wife, and honestly,,,,,,,,,,,good god Scarab needs somebody like that in his life.

Lyman’s first impressions on scarab was a whole ‘good god this bug man is pretty’ since his first time meeting Scarab was him capturing an entity that was hiding in his tavern, so he was very starstruck by the guy at first [haha burn pygmalion reference my whole lyman fic is based on burn pygmalion]. When they began talking near weekly? Depending on how busy scarab was he felt more like he was letting a friend vent to him than a client which is why he started to catch feelings for the one guy he felt real around, to this day he has no clue how he snagged a bad bitch but he WILL rub it in everyone's faces! he does have a problem with being a tad bit overprotective after the events of fnc [which he was present for in the au i’m writing very slowly yet have the details all in my head and if expanded on here this post would be 10x more long] and it does bother scarab a LOT at first, but they work out their problems after,,,,time room enforced marriage counseling. Lyman cherishes scarab so much and when not scolding him on being reckless as hell he’s showering the guy in compliments, he’s a lot more verbal with is affections compared to scarab who is more physical and relies on gift giving while lyman will just rant on how much Scarab deserves the world since he’s such a hard worker only to be fucked over by their boss constantly. Lyman is a chronic shit-talker with people he’s close to and Scarab is a chronic listener to the shit talking.

They have,,,,,,,,a LOT of issues that get ironed out as the story progresses [if i ever get around to writing the damned fic] there's a real beginning middle and end to their story all with different dynamics but to summarize the end of their journey they become a lot more open with each other and due to a sudden restraining order Orbo placed on lyman after the lizard finally did fuckong snap he got promoted to auditor as,,,,good god that lizard needs to kick some people’s asses before the goes through with the death threats he gave his boss. And him and scarab become like,,,,,,,,,, like that scene in the fnaf movie where chica’s cupcake is mauling the guy while she just stands there and glares at the next victim,,,,yeah yeah thats them!

#I'M SO SORRY ITS A LOT I HOPE IT MAKES SENCE!!!#scaraman #scarab the god auditor #selfship #UHH #THEY'RE LIKE EVIL FREAKS AND I LOVE THEM #THE BEETLE EARING LYMAN WEARS IS ACTUALLY FROM SCARAB BTW!!#lymanlore

6 notes · View notes

theimaginatrix27 · 1 year

Text

So I had one of my many whacky-ass crossover dreams last night and I wanted to write it down because it was fun okay.

So it started with me watching a TV show but shifted to me participating kind of? (My fic dreams are often in the form of me being part of the story and/or viewing it as if it were a fully licensed TV series which I then have to wake up and realise is not in fact real and searchable on the internet and which I cannot find out the rest of what happened in. It is a most disappointing experience.)

The first part's kind of confusing, but dreams rarely make sense for long enough to get a coherent story out of in its entirety. But something something Seto Kaiba has to go into hiding because a new villain who may or may not have been a new spirit that possessed Yugi and turned him evil is looking for him something something(I don't set store by that bit, it's too boring and I think was derived from one of the fics I've been reading recently in which Yami is more like his manga self, but I digress).

The bit that's the clearest is that he somehow ends up hiding in the dorms of Cackle's Academy. I watched the Worst Witch TV series from the late 90s/early 2000s religiously and it's the version I like best. The books were not long enough and are also sparce and diverge a few installments in because of how infrequently new ones were published, so the TV show had to make a lot of stuff up as they went along. And imho it was good stuff! The Netflix version was nowhere near as fun. But I must digress again.

An important aspect of this dream scenario was that Mildred and her friends, and Ethel Hallow, know who Seto Kaiba is. And of course they want to help him but at the same time they're a bit starstruck (except Ethel doesn't know yet, I'll get to that later). Of course, as usually happened in the show when the girls were trying to sneak things, Ms Hardbroom found out something was up, and is not amused by Seto's presence, because he is a young man in an all-girls school. She is not aware who Seto Kaiba is, but is impressed by how he carries himself and presents his case.

For those of you less familiar, Ms Hardbroom (her first name is Constance in the version I'm most familiar with and hekate in the books/netflix version) is the potions teacher in the TV show I spoke of, and is very strict and inflexible when it comes to the main characters and their tendency to break rules (and bring electronics into the school), and has a knack for teleporting and popping up right when the main girls least want her there. I like her, honestly. The girls don't but they're teenagers. Ms Hardbroom is not nearly as harsh as the likes of Professor Snape, and in the dream at least, Seto gains a certain amount of respect for her, even if he thinks the naming convension these witches have is kind of ridiculous.

To help Seto hide, he is given a cloak of disguise that makes him look like a girl (no physical change, just a really good glamour. This ignores the magic system of the world, but I absolutely do not care, this world totally can have a cloak of Trans-Your-Gender if my subconscious wants it to), and he spends the rest of the dream making snarky comments about Mildred's decisions and pissing off Ethel Hallow, who doesn't know who he is, until she turns the weird new girl Sofia into a toad briefly, which forces him to leave the cloak behind,and when Ethel's made to turn him back, she recognises him and is horrified, because she is actually secretly a Seto Kaiba fangirl and OH MY GOD I SPELLED SETO KAIBA MY LIFE IS RUINED!

Aaaaand that's basically the dream. And it was fun, and I want to expand on it but I'd have to make up a plot and I have too many stories already. I'll just have them run into one another during that one Magina incident where all the timelines and the people within them get jumbled up for a bit.

#YGO #Seto Kaiba #The Worst Witch #Trix Has Random Dreams

0 notes

dreamingofaizawa · 3 years

Text

Obedient (Rewritten)

Soft! Yandere! Erasermic x Chubby! Fem! Reader

***18+ Fic***

You must be 18 years old or older to participate in this reading. If you are not, please remove yourself from the line and find another piece. Thank you.

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, implied drugging, kidnapping, reader is way too fucking calm with the situation, Stockholm Syndrome, BDSM themes, a collar, body worship, the word Daddy once, smut, double penetration (diff. holes), anal, unprotected sex, overstimulation, aftercare.

Word Count: 6.6 k

Author's Note: Alright. I've been wanting to rewrite this for a while now. Obedient was the very first fic I'd ever written and posted back in September, and my writing has changed A LOT since then. Reading the original, I realized there's a lot that I can change and tweak, and a lot that wasn't very clearly or well written (in my opinion). So, here it is!

You can find the original here.

Enjoy~

“Happy birthday to me.” The words tumble loosely from your lips on a heaved breath, your fingers curled lazily around a cold glass of whiskey.

It isn’t a rare occurrence to see you perched atop a stool at the edge of the bar, nursing your third glass at 2am on a Friday night. Or rather Saturday morning. It’s one of the only places you can find solace, away from nosy coworkers and nosier acquaintances. The loneliness is soberingly blissful. You never cared much for social interaction.

At this point the bar is emptying, only a handful of bodies sticking around in the early hours. In the reflections of the rows of glass liquor bottles you see them again. Two lanky figures sitting in the corner booth at the back of the establishment. Any normal person would see them and think nothing. But you know better. When you first walked into the bar six months ago they were in that exact spot, and every time afterward they’d be there when you walked in and stayed after you left.

You, being observant as you are, always watched everything from your spot at the bar, the slightly warped images in the glass serving as your eyes for the night. It didn’t take long for you to figure the two were watching you every time you stepped inside. The blonde one always sat with his back to you, and his head would occasionally turn in the reflection. You’d alternate seats to make sure you weren’t imagining things, but it only confirmed what you’d suspected.

Not that you cared enough to do anything about it.

As long as they keep their distance you’re perfectly content letting them look. And they did keep their distance. They’d never even come within 5 feet of you, seemingly happy with just lingering glances. Of course, tonight would be a different story.

You watch as their glassy reflections stand up, the distance between you and them shrinking with each of their long strides. You let your eyes fall to the amber liquid in your hands, praying they’d only pass you by on their way out. Two sets of footsteps approached, two bodies popped up on either side of you, and a deep, silky smooth voice sounded on your right.

“Mind if we take a seat?” A glance to your right revealed a rugged, yet handsome man peering down at you with his deep, tired onyx eyes. Long raven hair spilled over his shoulders, framing his chiseled jaw peppered with barely tamed scruff and a scar curved along his cheekbone. You turn to look at his friend, long blonde hair pulled up into a high bun and hypnotic green eyes focused on you behind orange tinted sunglasses despite being indoors past midnight. He is handsome as well, a small mustache on his smiling lips, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline drawing you in.

You couldn’t help but feel they look familiar, somehow. You’d seen their faces before, somewhere, but you pushed that to the back of your mind for now.

It wouldn’t hurt to let them sit with you, right? They seem friendly enough, and it’s better to entertain them in case things go south should you reject their request. With a small, tired smile, you nod.

“Sure thing, fellas.” They both plop down on either side of you and the blonde immediately gets talking.

“So what’s the occasion, little listener?” Two thoughts came to mind. One, how did he know there was any occasion, two, what kind of pet name is ‘little listener’? Your confusion must have shown on your face, because the raven haired man spoke up.

“You’re pretty dolled up for a night at the bar, kitten.” Ah. So they had been watching you. You aren’t wearing anything that would normally be considered ‘dolled up’. Your tan sweater and black skirt are relatively plain, and the platform boots you’re wearing accompanied by your thigh-high socks are something you’re experimenting with.

But usually you entered the bar with a white button-up and black slacks from your job as a waitress. Today you had time to go home and pamper yourself a bit before heading to your usual drinking spot. Evidently, they noticed. You bring your glass up to your lips and gulp down the remaining liquid before entertaining the question.

“Nothing special. Call it a birthday party.” And hey, you mean it when you say it isn’t special. Your birthday only marks yet another routine year on this earth. The blonde nudges your shoulder with his own.

“I’d say that’s pretty special, sunshine!” The alcohol must be affecting you, because you chuckle a bit at his enthusiasm.

“Just another year gone by, you know?” You’re never this talkative sober. The man on your right rapped his knuckles on the bartop, the barkeep making his way over with a tired smile.

“One more glass for this pretty kitty here.” The name had your eyebrows raising.

“This one’s on me.” As the fresh glass was sat on the bartop you scoffed quietly.

“Kitty?” A deep hum came from the man.

“Well how would you describe yourself, kitten?” Somewhere in your muddled brain you warned yourself not to be self-deprecating on your 25th birthday. You didn’t listen.

“Definitely not feline. I’m short and chunky and the only thing cat-like about me is my posture and eyeliner,” you stated, matter-of-factly. As a waitress at an esteemed high-end restaurant, you had to learn to be quick on your feet, agile, and most importantly, poised. A hum comes from the blonde, a muttered ‘pretty and humble’ floating on his breath. You force a chuckle at the statement.

“Pretty is also a word I wouldn’t use to describe myself.” A short silence falls between the three of you, and you take the time to study their faces. Where had you seen them before? You’re certain if you’d met them before you’d remember them, you don’t tend to forget attractive people.

They’re oddly patient as they watch the cogs in your brain turn, your eyes taking in every detail of every feature. Your breath caught and your eyes went wide when you’d finally placed their faces.

“Present Mic and Eraserhead. You’re pro heroes.” The words are quiet, nearly imperceptible as you breathe them, but they’re close enough to hear. Present Mic beams at the recognition.

“In the flesh, sunshine. But we’d prefer you use our names.” Eraserhead leans away and sticks a hand out for a handshake.

“Shouta Aizawa.” You shake his hand and turn to the blonde, who similarly has his hand held out.

“Hizashi Yamada.” You introduce yourself, a bit shaky and only slightly starstruck. What in the world are two pro heroes doing talking to you? As you regain your composure you excuse yourself to the restroom. You weren’t prepared to talk to heroes tonight. A glance in the mirror has you sobering yourself, rationalizing their strange behavior. These two are pro heroes. They were clearly only worried about your safety, a woman all alone in a bar till the earliest hours of the morning. ‘That’s why they were watching me’, you muse. You quickly fix yourself, then step back out to the two heroes.

The three of you pass another hour of time before you decide it’s time for you to head home. They offer to give you a lift, but you politely decline. You can't intrude on them any more than you already had. Hizashi insists otherwise.

“Please Sunshine? If something were to happen to you we’d never forgive ourselves!” It made sense to you. They’re pro heroes after all, it’s in their nature to worry. So you oblige to ease their anxieties.

Since Shouta hadn’t touched any alcohol, he’s driving, and you punch your address into the GPS system of their very expensive looking car. As you sit back, Hizashi holds a bottle over his head.

“Water?” You thank him and drain the bottle, realizing you’re a bit more dehydrated than you initially thought. In your semi-drunk haze you fail to notice that the bottle had already been opened, and you miss Shouta’s eyes watching you down the beverage through the rearview mirror.

It’s only five minutes later you feel drowsy, your head lolling to the side and eyelids drooping. You don’t quite register the question Hizashi asks you, and when you don’t answer he turns around to look at you.

“You seem tired, Sunshine. Take a nap, we’ll wake you up when we get there.” Your exhaustion takes hold over any rational thoughts, and with a sleepy nod, you stretch out over the backseat and let your mind slip into unconsciousness, blissfully unaware you’ll never see your apartment again.

The first thing you notice as you wake up is how stiff and sore your muscles are. It takes you a moment to realize you aren’t in your clothes from last night, nor are you in your own bed. Your eyes snap open and you sit up, taking in the unfamiliar room. With a curse under your breath you scour your memory for anything, checking if you’d gone home with anyone or gotten yourself in a tight situation. The last thing you remember is being driven home by the two pros, then passing out in their backseat.

Questions began forming in your mind. ‘Where am I? How did I get here? Where had the two heroes gone?’ In an attempt to think clearer, you try crossing your legs, but your ankle is stopped short by something heavy. Throwing off the blanket, a thick metal cuff glinted in the light of the room, an equally thick chain leading somewhere over the side of the bed.

When your breathing begins to quicken, you settle your mind, refusing to panic. Willing yourself to relax, you begin to think about how you can get out of this situation. ‘Today should be Saturday. Assuming this room is part of a house, someone would most likely still be here’. With a small breath, you speak, hopefully loud enough for someone to hear you.

“H-hello? Is someone there?” It only takes a few seconds for footsteps to reach your ears, and the door opens to the last person you’re expecting to see. A ruggedly handsome Shouta Aizawa stands in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with a small smirk on his lips.

“Good morning, Kitty.” As endearing as the pet name is, the only emotion you feel right now is confusion. Your mind is drifting to all the fanfiction you’d read online, piecing together the events of last night like a puzzle. ‘The bottle of water was already open’. In your defense, they’re pro heroes, it’s only natural for you-- or anyone, really-- to let your guard down. A large hand on your shoulder jolts you back to reality, your eyes wide as you stare up at Shouta like a deer in headlights.

“You okay Kitten?” All you can manage as you settle your thoughts is to blink up at the man, swallowing down the lump in your throat before letting out a shaky breath.

“Let me guess. I’m home now, aren’t I?” The man stares back down at you with subtly raised eyebrows before chuckling softly.

“That’s not the reaction I was expecting, but I can’t say I’m mad about it. You’re a smart little kitty, aren’t you.” He leaves you to your thoughts and your mind begins reeling once again. You understand this is wrong, that you shouldn’t be so willing, so obedient. You also know how boring your life has been up until now. How mundane and lonely you’d been for as long as you can remember.

You’d cut ties with your family long ago, and ‘friend’ is a very loose term. Most of the people you called friends are acquaintances at best, your antisociality and trust issues meant ‘making friends’ is not on your life agenda. Somehow you knew, deep down, you wanted something like this to happen. You longed to give up control, to let someone else string you along and take the reins and let you relax, not have to worry about anything anymore. That side of you tended to make itself known through your explorative late teen years.

You’d had romantic partners before, though once anything intimate came up they all refused to associate with you anymore. They couldn’t understand your want to give up control, your need to submit. They refused to collar you ‘like an animal’. None of your partners ever understood the weight behind such a garment. This may be your chance at the relationship you’d always craved, regardless of its twisted nature.

Then there’s the logical side, the chances of you actually escaping. As a quirkless human in the presence of two trained pro heroes (assuming Hizashi is also in on this), the likelihood of you making it out is slim to nonexistent. If you somehow manage to get out, the two could easily track you down and just as easily drag you back. So, as wrong as it seems, you don’t fight it.

Shouta returns with a tray of breakfast, setting it down on your lap after you’d adjusted yourself to lean against the headboard. As he pulls back you mumble a ‘thank you’ and begin to eat, acknowledging the pang of hunger in your belly. As weird as it seems to say ‘thank you’ to your captor, you find it could be helpful even if only a little. Being polite is automatic, but it’s also a great way to make sure you don’t end up injured, or worse, dead somewhere, so for once in a long time your manners are intended. You’d gotten halfway through your meal when Shouta speaks up.

“You’re taking this really well.” He almost seems skeptical. You peer up at him as you finish the food in your mouth.

“There isn’t much use panicking. I’d only end up hurting myself. Besides, it’s not like I can get out.” You motion to the cuff around your ankle and he gives a small chuckle.

“You’re not wrong, kitten.” He leaves to let you finish breakfast, returning ten minutes later and taking your empty tray. He comes back right after, a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold in hand.

“I’m sure you need to use the bathroom.” You give a small nod, acknowledging the pressure in your bladder for the first time since you woke up. Gently, he takes your wrists and locks the cuffs around them, then holds up the blindfold before going to tie it around your head.

“These are just a precaution.” Soon you feel the cuff on your ankle fall away, and Shouta’s strong arms loop under your knees and back as he lifts you off the bed.You’re both surprised and not that he can lift you with relative ease. He is a pro hero after all. It takes less than 30 seconds for him to stop and gently place you down, taking the blindfold and cuffs off.

“I’ll be waiting just outside the door. Once you’re done, knock and I’ll take you back to bed.” You nod and he leaves, locking the door once he’s outside. Of course it locks from the outside. You take a moment to just think about your current predicament. Currently you’re locked in the house of a pro hero, being kept against your will (sort of). Your life had just taken an unexpected turn.

You knock on the door like Shouta said, and it isn’t long before you’re back on the bed with the cuff around your ankle. As he turns to leave you stop him, and he turns back to you with a quirked eyebrow.

“Can I...draw?” You didn’t know if he’d actually let you have anything, but it was worth a shot. If you were to be cooped up here you need to keep yourself occupied. With a low hum, he leaves the room and comes back with a sketch pad, pencil, and eraser.

Days come and go with either of the pros serving you three meals a day. They begin questioning your obedience, especially Hizashi. He questioned your lack of panic and how you never seemed to try to escape. Even he knows this isn’t normal. Shouta seems less skeptical, like he’d expected less of a fight than any normal, sane person would give. When Hizashi asked questions you answered truthfully. Lying is of no use to you.

“Really, I don’t mind it here. So far my life has been pretty shitty and boring, so this turn of events is mildly appreciated. Besides, you treat me relatively well, considering I’m being held captive, so I can’t say I’m upset.” You’d guessed from both your reading and their actions that they truly believed they cared about you. The chances of them hurting you are slim, so you’re able to live with them without fear.

The cuff around your ankle came off about a week in, and Shouta gave you the freedom to roam the house, though it wasn’t without warning. He held his hand out to you, an offer to help you stand, and you took it. Slowly, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and shift your weight to your feet. Your legs shake like a newborn fawn, but Shouta held you to let you stretch your legs and get comfortable walking again.

He led you out to what you assume is the dining table and sat you down, Shouta taking the seat on your right. You assume Hizashi is in the kitchen, what with the clatter and smell of food. Shouta asked what you’d been drawing, which caught you a bit off guard, but you answered anyway.

“Koi fish.” He hummed, focused on you.

“Any particular reason why?” You take a moment to think about your answer, it’s not a question you’re used to responding to.

“Well they’re gorgeous creatures. Elegant, sleek and graceful. The way they move is so mesmerizing, smooth and flawless like a flowing creek. I’ve always loved drawing koi.”

The conversation lapses into your fascination with the fish, how they somehow remind you of dragons and how the fantastical creature’s existence isn’t as far-fetched as it’s made out to be. Hizashi joins soon enough, serving dinner and listening in on the conversation.

Once you all finish eating you get comfortable on the couch, nestled between the two men. It isn’t long before you drift off to sleep, their body heat lulling you into dreamland. Shouta carries you to bed, carefully laying you down and pressing a light kiss to your temple. He stands above you, admiring your features as you sleep.

You’re gorgeous to him, a goddess in your own right. He and his blonde counterpart had started watching you mainly because you were a woman, completely alone and seemingly unarmed in a bar until the earliest hours of the morning. Neither of them could tell if you were quirkless or not, and as heroes they made sure to keep an eye on you during their weekly trip to the bar should you get into any trouble.

But eventually it became a habit to look for you, and the more they looked the farther they fell. You looked as exhausted as Shouta every time you stepped through the doors, hair just beginning to lose its style and shoulders sagged. But you were so beautiful, even in your exhausted state. Hizashi was the first to mention his infatuation to Shouta, but the raven-haired man had already figured the blonde was into you.

Soon enough they began to get antsy, constantly watching you walk out the door into the dead of night all alone. You’re just too trusting of the world outside, not taking enough precautions for a woman of your caliber. They made it their mission to make sure you were safe, and one day, take you back home where they could protect you.

Now that you’re here, it’s like a dream. Even as you sleep you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. How your lashes flutter against your cheeks, the way your lips softly part with every breath, how your chest gently rises and falls, it all makes him stare down at you in complete awe. It takes a great deal of willpower for him to tear his eyes away from you and join Hizashi in their room.

***3 months later***

A couple months have passed since you’d...moved in with the two men, and you can’t say you hate it. They’ve respected your privacy, allowing you to stay in your own room and letting you bathe yourself after refusing their attempts at persuading you to join them. Honestly it’s been nice living with them.

Though, the longer you’re with them the more thoughts begin gathering and swirling in your head. Caring thoughts, how their days progress, how they’re feeling at any point in time. And needy, dirty thoughts. Any time those pop up you make it a point to push them deep down into the farthest recesses of your brain, refusing to fuel those pesky embers.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you know what’s happening, what’s been happening. You’re no stranger to Stockholm Syndrome, having done your own minimal research on the subject a few years back. You constantly tell yourself this isn’t normal, nor is it healthy, to enjoy the company of your captors. You have to remind yourself that they had taken you from everything you knew, and even though there wasn’t much for you to love, they’d taken you from that as well.

But soon enough the illogical prevailed, because despite all of that, the two have been nothing but good to you.

In no time at all the days you spend alone in the large house are the days you find yourself missing their company, hoping they’d return sooner. You managed to dig through their clothes and pick out some of their older t-shirts, and began wearing them around the house. Their lingering scents have been a comfort as you patiently wait for them to come back. They don’t seem to mind at all, so you’re content.

As time passes you get closer with them, gravitating toward them and snuggling into either of their sides, letting them wrap an arm around you and tug you into them. You began giving kisses when they left and returned, a small peck on the cheek at the door. The first time you had engaged a kiss was a shock to both of them.

You had tugged Shouta’s sleeve and when he turned you silently grabbed his collar and yanked him down, leaving a small peck on his cheek, doing the same with Hizashi. They barely had the time to react before you dashed to your room and curled under the blankets, face heated and heart pounding like some schoolgirl who had confessed to her crush and got a positive response. That night you’d received more cuddles and kisses than normal.

The kisses became routine, and before long you all slept in the same bed. Strangely enough, life began to feel somewhat normal. The house began to feel like home.

And soon enough that schoolgirl crush manifested into something dirty, something lustful and carnal. Just as much as you long to be around them, you want desperately to feel their hands on your bare skin, mapping out the curves of your body as you writhe beneath them. You crave them and their touch. But of course you still have your pride. Dropping hints would have to suffice.

Slowly, subtly, you dress lighter, more scantily. No shorts under their t-shirts that barely cover your ass, allowing the stretched collars to drop and expose the slightest peek of skin. After a shower you walk back to the room in nothing but a towel, allowing the edge to ride up your thighs. Your tactics seemed to work, their eyes glued to the newly exposed skin, soaking in your plush thighs and soft skin. Their stares make you ache, but after weeks of nothing but lingering glances you decide to toss your pride out the window.

You have dinner ready when they walk in the door, and after everyone had eaten and showered you usher them both to the couch while you sit facing them from the coffee table. Their confusion is evident on their faces, your nervous fidgeting and reluctance to look them in the eyes didn’t help. What you’re about to bring up is embarrassing to say the least, but staying silent would be a detriment to your sanity. With a steadying breath, you meet their gaze and quietly force out your seemingly ridiculous request.

“So… I enjoy being here with you,” your fingers twist into the hem of your shirt and you swallow down the lump in your throat, “and I really appreciate that you’ve given me anything I asked for-”

“No.” Shouta’s voice suddenly cuts off your sentence.

“You can’t go outside, Kitten. I’m sorry, but that’s non-negotiable right now.” You blink dumbly at him, completely thrown off balance by his statement before you catch yourself, waving your hands frantically in front of you.

“No! Oh god, that’s not…um…. I wasn’t asking to go outside. I love being here, with you, and doing whatever but...it’s what we don’t do...that’s bothering me...just a little bit…” By now your voice is so quiet and high-pitched you wonder if they can even hear you. Hizashi, bless his heart, is just as confused as before the conversation started.

“Sunshine, you aren’t making much sense. If you think about it, there’s actually a lot we don’t do.” Shouta holds a hand up, silencing the blonde. His dark eyes drag over your body, watching the way your thighs almost imperceptibly rub together and you can’t meet his gaze. You squirm, the intensity in his eyes something you aren’t used to but it makes you hot all over. His hand comes down on his thigh twice.

“Come here, Kitty.” Slowly, you stand and walk to him, letting his hands grab your hips and pull you down to straddle his lap. A finger curls under your chin, angling your head to look Shouta in the eyes. A small smirk pulls the corner of his mouth, a moment of realization flashing across his face.

“Our little Kitty is getting needy ‘Zashi. Isn’t that right, Kitten?” Heat flooded your face, your embarrassment and arousal sending hot blood to your face and chest. You squeeze your eyes shut and nod, hoping they’d do something about the very horny state you’re in. Shouta’s hand moves to your hip again, lifting you and placing you in Hizashi’s lap before standing and walking away.

The blonde cooed at the surprised squeak you let out at the sudden movement, and you open your eyes to his wide grin. Leaning forward, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. It feels nice, and you let your body melt into him and his warmth, his long fingers digging into the flesh of your lower back as he tugs you closer and a pleasant haze settles over your mind.

It’s a blissful moment shared between you, and Shouta returns just as Hizashi pulls away from the kiss. They share a look you can’t place before the former raises a hand to gently stroke your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He seems conflicted, trying to mull over some sort of decision in his brain, his brows just barely drawn and jaw set. When his eyes dropped to his other hand, yours followed, to find he held a long thin black velvet box. Clearly it holds some sort of jewelry.

After a few moments he turns it to you and lifts the lid, and your heart damn near stops beating. Whether it’s from excitement or a brief flash of fear, you don’t know. These two have been watching you for much longer than just at the bar. Those few months are only the tip of the iceberg, but how they’d come to notice you would probably forever remain a mystery to you.

Right now, all that matters is that they know everything. From your failed relationships to the reason they’d all ended. They had to know, that’s the only explanation. There’s no possible way it’s pure coincidence that you now gaze down at a beautifully crafted leather collar. It’s simple, thin, black dotted sparsely with sparkling gems and a dainty metal ring centered at the front. Tentatively, you reach out and trace the leather with your fingers.

“Is this...for me?” A deep hum sounds in Shouta’s chest, and that’s answer enough for you. Shouta plucks the garment from its seat and moves behind you. The cool leather feels heavenly as he loops it around your neck, his fingers brushing your skin. Everything seemed to go quiet as you waited for something, anything, to solidify this moment.

Click.

You shudder out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Shouta tilts your head and presses his lips to yours, looping a finger through the collar and giving a gentle tug. It makes you mewl, allowing him space to slip his tongue behind your teeth. He can see your pupils dilate when he pulls away, plush lips slick with saliva, lust invading your mind. You look so needy and desperate for them, so fucking gorgeous.

Hizashi leaves a kiss on your cheek then picks you up and places you on your feet. Both men grab either of your hands, lacing their fingers with yours, and gently pull you with them to the bedroom. Hizashi begins undressing first, and you can only let your eyes drag over his bare upper body for a moment before Shouta grabs your chin and distracts you with another kiss. This one is more passionate, heated, rough as his tongue effortlessly invades and dominates your mouth. Hizashi’s voice permeates your lust-filled haze.

“Come here, baby.” Shouta pulls away and allows you to walk over to where the blonde sits naked on the edge of the bed. He motions for you to turn around and you oblige, then he grabs your hips and pulls you back to sit in his lap, your back pressed to his chest. You watch as Shouta undresses, baring his skin to you as Hizashi tasks himself with undressing you.

Your shirt is the first to be removed, a groan spilling from the blonde when he discovers you aren’t wearing a bra. He pulls you flush against his chest, peppering wet kisses down your neck and shoulders as your eyes roam over Shouta’s sculpted frame. The raven haired man makes his way over, kneeling down between your legs and reaching up to toy with your breasts, rough fingers working your nipples until they peak. Hizashi’s hands find their way down to the pouch of your stomach, grabbing at the soft pliant flesh and squishing the fat there.

You let out a low whine, feeling extremely self-conscious with his hands working at the parts of your body you hate the most. You grab at his wrists in an attempt to pull him away, but he hushes you and whispers into your ear, his breath hot on your neck.

“It’s okay, pretty baby. Let me feel you.” You will yourself to let him go, let his hands explore your body the way he wants. He keeps his hands on your belly, long fingers massaging into your skin.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He’s nipping and kissing at your neck, whispering praises into your ear as he fondles all the fatty parts of you.

Shouta’s hands reach up and tug your panties down, then grip your thighs and pull them apart, exposing you to his hungry eyes. You can’t help but feel exposed, uncomfortable, as they touch and gaze at every part of yourself you had always despised. A whimper builds in your chest, tears beginning to sting your eyes and your breath shaking. Hizashi leans over and kisses your tears away as Shouta leans forward and kisses at your belly and thighs, hands working at whatever flesh he couldn’t get his lips on.

“Let us love you. All of you. You’re such a pretty kitty.” You let yourself relax, let yourself relish in the fact that these two gorgeous men are doting over your body like you’re a goddess, like they couldn’t live if they didn’t worship every one of your perfect imperfections. Though you’re far from comfortable, the initial fear subsides, allowing them full access to you.

“Good girl kitty, good girl.” Shouta whispers as he nips at your thighs, sucking little red marks into your skin. He hooks your legs over Hizashi’s, and the blonde’s fingers dip down to tease your folds, barely breaching your little hole and making you buck for more friction. A soft moan slips from your lips as he pushes two long fingers into your soaked pussy.

You rock your hips into his hand, his palm barely brushing against your clit making you mewl. Shouta focuses his attention on your breasts and belly where Hizashi left bare, kneading and kissing and licking, leaving blooming marks all over your skin. Soon you feel a knot form in your stomach, tightening and burning impossibly hot. Hizashi feels your pussy clenching around his fingers and quickens his pace, grinding his palm down against your clit hard and curling his fingers to hit that spot that has you seeing stars.

When the knot snaps you’re falling apart on Hizashi’s lap, back arched and legs shaking. You throw your head back against his shoulder and cry out, pleasure racking your body in intense waves. Hizashi keeps moving his fingers inside you, letting you ride out your high, legs trembling and toes curling with the continued stimulation.

After your release you relax back down, chest heaving with every breath. Hizashi lifts you up and lays you down on the bed, Shouta crawling up over you and kissing you sweetly. He grabs your legs and wraps them around his waist, lining up his painfully hard erection with your throbbing pussy.

“Are you ready for me kitty?” You look up at him through your lashes and nod fervently, needing him desperately despite the sensitivity. He tugs at your collar gently.

“Use your words kitty cat. Are you ready for me?” Your eyes widen slightly and you answer without any real thought.

“Yes Daddy.” Shouta growls at the name and swears under his breath, thrusting his hips forward and bottoming out all at once. The air is punched from your lungs, the stretch around his thick length almost enough to make you cum a second time. Shouta leans down and kisses at the bruises Hizashi had left on your neck, giving you some time to adjust. It only takes a few moments for your walls to stop clamping down on him.

“I’m going to move now kitty. Relax for me.” He starts slow, groaning as he watches his length slide in and out of you.

Your warmth feels so good around his cock, and he moves faster, driving his cock so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Hizashi lays down next to you and puts two fingers into your mouth, your tongue sliding over them, coating them in your saliva.

He pulls them out and goes to rub your clit, leaning over and placing open mouth kisses along your collarbone, sucking new bruises onto your skin. Your legs quake with the quick building pleasure, your second orgasm creeping up fast. Suddenly both men stop their movements, Shouta pulling your body flush against him and sitting up.

Lithe, cold fingers suddenly dance around your back entrance, toying with your puckered hole. A single finger pushes in and you mewl and squirm at the new sensation. A second finger works its way in, the two digits working to stretch you gently. Soon there’s a third, and when you’re relaxed the fingers are gone and replaced by the thick head of Hizashi’s cock.

“You ready, sweet thing?” You nod and whine, a little weary but ready to be full of the two men. He slowly inches his way inside, shallow thrusts sinking him deeper until his hips are flush with your ass. Both men pepper wet kisses along your shoulders, giving you time to relax, but you don’t need it. You whine, wiggle your hips in an attempt to get them to move, and they oblige.

Their initial pace is slow, letting you feel every ridge and vein as they slip in and out of you. They build up a rhythm, when one is bottomed out the other has only the tip in, and soon you’re drooling from the amount of stimulation you’re getting. Hizashi’s fingers move down to work at your clit, and just the slightest touch has you trembling. The stimulation shoves you over the edge and has you cumming hard around them, your slick dripping down your thighs. They slow their pace slightly, your holes clamping down on them and attempting to milk them dry. Hizashi’s fingers rub your clit harder, overstimulating you.

“Do you have one more for us baby? I know you can cum one more time for us.” You whine, thrashing in their arms trying to simultaneously get away and tug them closer. Tears fall down your cheeks and a familiar tension fills the pit of your stomach and Shouta leans over and bites down on your shoulder. The pain pulls you over, crying out as you clamp down on their lengths hard. Their hips stutter as they chase their own release, and they shoot rope after rope of cum into you as you ride out your own high.

They still their movements, holding you and each other close. After a few moments they pull out together, the movement making you moan and tremble. Your body goes limp and Shouta pulls you to lean against him, stroking your hair and back. You’re sobbing softly into Shouta’s shoulder, your last release washing over your body almost painfully, your bones already beginning to ache. Shouta rubs your back softly and Hizashi peppers soft kisses along your shoulders, both cooing praises in your ears.

Shouta picks you up and the three of you go over to the bathroom, where Hizashi plugs the drain and turns on the tap to fill the large tub with hot water. Shouta climbs in and sits down, still cradling you, and the slowly rising water begins to soothe you. Hizashi pulls out a tube of ointment and rubs it onto Shouta’s back, relieving the scratch marks you left on him. After tending to Shouta he unlocks your collar and sinks into the tub, leaning against you. You let the two massage you and wash you, bringing you back from the intense scene.

“You okay kitten?” Shouta rumbles into your ear, petting your hair. You nod into his shoulder and grab Hizashi’s hand, wanting to be close to the both of them. The hot water and the care of the two bring you back down to earth, and you start to feel fatigue pulling at your consciousness. Hizashi notices you drifting off and takes you from Shouta. He dries you off with a towel and locks your collar back around your neck.

“Sho, I’m going to take her to bed. When you’re ready come join us.” Shouta hums and Hizashi carries you to bed.

You lay with Hizashi and cuddle into his chest, letting him hold you and rock you as you drift off. After a few minutes you feel the bed behind you dip and look up at Shouta with half lidded eyes. He gives you a peck on the lips before nuzzling against your back. With a long, soft sigh you melt into their arms, content with the new life you’d been brought into.

#erasermic #yandere erasermic #erasermic x reader #yandere erasermic x reader #erasermic smut #erasermic mha #erasermic bnha #shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa smut #hizashi yamada #hizashi yamada x reader #hizashi yamada smut #shouta aizawa mha #shouta aizawa bnha #hizashi yamada mha #hizashi yamada bnha

1K notes · View notes

kaiparker-avengerssmut · 3 years

Text

Their Doll 15

Bucky

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis: y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: Tony throws a party, bucky returns

Warnings: kissing, swearing

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

It's been nearly six months since I escaped HYDRA a second time, and since then all me and Steve have done is have sex. It's glorious, the freedom (and the pleasure) that comes with being with Steve, and I love him more and more every day. He told me he loved me about a months ago, over a candle-lit dinner and a bunch of roses. It was so sweet, but I am yet to say the words back to him. Well, not that I've been talking much, per say.

My voice was slowly returning, yet I still couldn't string together more than two words and my voice was far from being strong or sounding like it used to.

Bruce had miraculous found some medication that helped, and abashedly admitted that if the sex was helping me make any noise, it should continue.

One of the main issues, is that almost everyone except my dad had been walking on eggshells around me for months. And in new exactly why. It's because they're yet to bring him the soldier.

And if I'm being a hundred percent honest, I'm slightly happy they haven't yet. After all, I don't know if I could bury my feelings towards him and that wouldn't be fair to Steve. And yet in being fair to Steve, I was being cruel to the soldier. After all, to make Steve comfortable, I'm mentally condemning the soldier to continue the horrid and violent lifestyle that comes with HYDRA.

I shake the overcrowding thoughts off, resetting my stance before landing a pinch to the bag.

"Good." Steve praises, stood beside the swinging bag with his arms crossed over his chest. I continue to punch it hard, focusing more on the strength than the technique as I try and will away the flurries thoughts in my mind. "Why don't we try that thing you always get wrong?" Steve asks, almost mockingly. I shoot him a glare. He chuckled, unwrapping my fists for my before bringing me over to the table where our water sat. I took a big pull of the refreshing liquid, barely paying attention as Steve readies the targets.

When I saunter over, he hands me a set of small, but agile, blades before stepping away. I clear my throat, putting myself into the correct stance before giving my boyfriend a nod. Steve nods back, pressing the button before the human-shaped targets begin to move. They're staggered, the last one so far back I can never seem to hit the bullseye. No matter how many times a I try - which is at least once a day - I can never hit it.

The aim is to hit the targets in order of closest to furthest, burying the blade in the mannequins' chests where the red dots it. I take a deep breath, letting my wrist fall loose. I release the blade of my exhale, watching with narrowed eyes as it sinks itself into the black dummy's chest. I let out a breath I was holding, moving onto the next one. Bullseye. Bullseye. Bullseye. Onto the last target, my vision focused, my mind centred on the farther and the target only.

Inhale. Focus. Exhale. Throw.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed, before my hand quickly flys to my mouth, slapping over my lips in shock. It was almost cartoonish, the way Steve's eyes widened like a deer in headlights before the brightest, wolfish grin became his lips.

The knife had wizzed through the air, breezing past the other targets before the tip was piercing smoothly through the little red dot at its heart. Bullseye.

"Holy shit." I repeat, a smile pulling the corners of my mouth up. Steve rushed forward, engulfing my knees a bone-crushing hug before lifting me from the ground and spinning around with me in his arms.

"You spoke!" He rejoiced.

"I can talk! My voice - it's back!" I was starstruck, completely and utterly speechless. I can talk.

"Holy shit indeed." A voice came from behind us.

"Tony." Steve greeted as he let me down, my feet already carrying me across the room until I was enveloped in my dad's arms too.

"We should celebrate. I'm throwing you a party." Tony decided, placing a kiss to my hair. "Tonight. Wear something nice, both of you." He pulled away, looking pointedly at me and Steve before retreating with a smile.

...

I stood before my mirror, hands smoothing over the dark blue fabric laying over my hips. I breathed deeply, head tilting to the side as I studied myself. I wore a silky blue dress that cling to my waist and fell elegantly down from my hips, hitting my ankles and presenting a thigh-high slit on one side. The dress barely had a back, the front showing just enough cleavage to be considered teasing. Around my neck I wore a necklace steve had given me the night he told me he loved me, and I couldn't help but breath out a laugh at the small silver Captain America shield charm hanging from it. I wore some shoes I new I'd regret - trainers. Plain, white canvas shoes that totally ruined the look. But I'd never worn heels before, and I didn't feel like embarrassing myself at my own party.

My hair fell over my shoulders in loose curls, make up simple as I never tended to wear any anyway.

I took a deep breath, opening my room door to be greeted by Steve. He was dashing, clad in a navy blue suit and tie, his hair slightly messy bit in a hot way, and his blue eyes gleaming.

"You look breathtaking, doll." He commented, eyes scanning over my body, clearly lingering on the slit in my dress. I smirked slightly, looping my arm with his outstretched one.

"You look rather handsome yourself." I smiled sweetly, not missing the way steve held back a laugh when he finally noticed my choice of footwear. "Hey!" I laughed, slapping his arm playfully.

"I'm sorry, doll. I just didn't quite expect it." He sniggered, making me scoff and roll my eyes.

"And what did you expect? Three foot tall, strappy heels? When have you even seen me in anything besides trainers or tactical boots, Rogers?" I asked pointedly, shutting Steve up. When we reached the main room when my part was already in full swing, Steve pulled my close to him, coaxing a gasp from my lips.

"And where would you be hiding your knives tonight?" Steve murmured in my ear, nibbling on the lob as his arm kept me firmly pressed against him. It was a little joke we'd formed, as every time I was out in public steve managed to find a knife on me somewhere - in a pocket, down my bra, tucked into the waistband of whatever I was wearing, you name it. To anyone else, we simple looked to be having a normal conversation like any couple would've, but it was much more than that. I assumed in his question Steve was referring to my backless dress that hung so low there's no way I'd even find a way to wear underwear with it. So I went without.

"If tonight goes how I'm planning, you'll have plenty of time to find out for yourself." I whispered against his neck, smirking when his adam's apple bobbed. I sauntered away slowly, making sure my hips swayed as I walked.

The party flew by, people I could hardly remember greeting me and telling me how much they'd missed me as if they'd been some kind of surrogate mother or something to me.

That's where I currently found myself, a fake smile so big it was probably obvious plastered over my face as I nodded along whenever May said something. Peter stood beside her, champagne flute that I just new was filled with appletiser clutched in his hand, smirk hidden behind the rim of the glass at my pained expression.

"So how long have you been home?" May asked, smile so genuine it was embarrassing how fake my own was.

"Only about six months." I smiled back, eyes darting around the room nervously looking for an escape.

"Six months?! You should've met up with Peter sooner! You would've hung out with her, right Peter?" May exclaimed, turning to her nephew who was clearly trying to hold back a snigger as he answered with a quick 'of course'. I sent him a glare that briskly morphed back into a smile the second May was turned my way again.

The smile turned much more real the second I saw my dad climb up onto the table across the room, glass and spoon in his hands. May and Peter spun to look at him along with everyone else in the room when the captivating sound of the metal clanging gracefully against the champagne flue echoed in the room.

"Thank you, thank you, everyone!" Tony called, chatter diminishing in the crowd at his voice. A smile - an actual smile - graced my lips when I realised he was making a speech about me being home. "I'm just here tonight, talking to you all, about my daughter!" Tony began, a small applause following as many pairs of eyes sought for me in the crown.

"You know, the day I found you laying on my doorstep," he stated, taking a swig of his drink, "I thought: how the hell am I gonna raise this stupid ass kid that's been dumped on my like some sort of...animal." I gasped, tears bubbling in my eyes. I thought we were past this- this hate. "This fucking bastard that's come from the filthy streets."

"Tony, that's enough." Nat says from where she stood beside the table, tugging the man's ankle in an attempt to get him down.

"You're drunk." Steve stated from beside him, anger written over his usually perfect features.

"It's all you! It's you, y/n!" He shouted.

"Dad.." I mumbled through my tears, every head in the room locked on my as my bottom lips wobbled aggressively.

"You killed me the day you showed up, and ever day I see you I realise how much I regret taking you in, raising you as my own." He spat with a venom I'd never heard in my dad's voice before.

"Tony!" Steve shouted, but he merely pushed the super soldier's words aside.

"You're not special, y/n! And you never were! Just a Thorne in my side," he explained, climbing down from the table with a slight drunken wobble. "That's why I picked Peter. Smart, agile, unique." He rambled on, making his was through the sea of people that parted instantly for him until he was right in front of me, Peter and May. "So why don't you make this easy, and don't make me chose between you a second time." Tony claimed.

"What? Because you'd chose him?" I sobbed, hand covering my mouth as I bit back the tears.

"Tony, don't!" Steve snapped, now at my side and holding his hands on my hips possessively.

"If you chose him over you're own daughter, Tony...I swear to god somebody better hide you in the time it takes me to find a gun." Nat glared, standing to my side with a wicked look in her eyes.

"Y/n is your daughter." Bruce tried to reason, flinching away when Tony shot him a look that could kill.

"Yeah, I'd chose him." Tony finally settles, silence ensuing after the piercing shatter of a glass broke the room. May stood there, broken glass at her feet and mouth open so wide her jaw must've physically hurt.

"Y/n, I- I am so sorry.." Peter barely whispered from beside May, his own face red from a mixture of threatening tears and embarrassment. I have Tony a dirty look, leaning forward slightly and spitting at the ground in front of him.

"Fuck you." I bit like a viper, spinning harshly on my heel and storming from the room, trying so hard to hide my tears until I was out of sight.

Once I'd reached the stairs, I was kicking my heels off and springing up the steps, two at a time. Reaching the top, I clutched the railing for a second as if to ground myself as a sob ripped through me, my palm covering my mouth again as if it could stop the sounds. I padded quickly across the carpeted floor, fumbling with the handle of my door before pushing it open blindly, stumbling inside.

A sharp gasp was stolen from me when I walked in, more tears clouding my eyes. I hastily swiped them away with my palms, desperate to get a good look of the man before me. His cerulean eyes, long and thick dark hair, his undeniably visible metal arm...

Then his lips met mine. Not desperate or hard like usual, but gentle and slow, as if I would shatter to a thousand pieces if he even held my soft face with too much pressure. "Y/n." he said seriously, but a small smile still glistening in his deep blue eyes. "Soldier." I responded, reflecting his playful seriousness. He pulled me in for another passionate kiss, my whole body relishing in its tenderness. The soldier bought his mouth next to my ear, leaning over me and holding my waist carefully. My thoughts raced one another over and over, but there was always a clear winner: I had him back.

His compassionate whisper floated past my ear, dancing around the loose curls of hair that were tucked messily behind my ear, a whirlwind of emotions tunnelling through me, allowing the butterflies to roam free as he murmured "It's Bucky, by the way."

"We're done."

A frown settled across my face, my head snapping the the side to see Steve stood gobsmacked and clearly hurt in the door. He must've followed me, to make sure I was alright and now he's seen this, and - how long had he been standing there?

"Steve, it's not what it looks like." Bucky tried, now also looking at the Super Soldier.

"So it's not my best friend kissing my girl? Hm?" Steve almost whimpered, as if the words physically hurt him to say.

"Well, yes, but-"

"No. No buts. I don't give a shit what you have to say." Steve interjected me, the harshness of his voice cutting through me like a knife. "Have a nice fucking life." He spat, before turning and retreating out of the door. I started wistfully after him, before glancing back to Bucky and opening my mouth to speak.

"Go. I'll talk to you later." He answered for me, a reassuring glint in his blue-grey eyes. I gave him a small nod and a grateful smile before instantly running after Steve.

"Steve! Steve, wait!" I called after him, but the man's strides were so damn long I couldn't catch up to him even whilst running. "Please, let me explain!" He turned around at that, my body colliding with the wall of muscle that was his torso.

"What's there to explain, y/n?" He said, defeated.

"I- I don't really know. I just don't want to lose you." I murmured, placing my hands of his chest and looking up at the man through my lashes. He wrapped his hands around my wrists before yanking them away from his chest, tears stinging in my eyes. "I love you, Steve." I whispered, for the first time. Steve averted his gaze with a frustrated sigh.

"It's a little too late for that. You can tell Bucky he won't be hearing from me either." Steve spoke, dropping my wrists and turning to leave again. I didn't follow him this time, I didn't call after him, I just sunk to my knees, head in my hands, and cried.

272 notes · View notes

retrievablememories · 3 years

Text

show me love | jaehyun

title: show me love pairing: jaehyun x reader genre: fluff request: “I have a fic idea for Valentine's Day 💀 Jaehyun's gf is busy trying to prepare a really sweet bday gift while Jaehyun is busy trying to prepare a really nice Valentine's Day gift for his gf?” word count: 2.2k warnings: alcohol use a/n: writing pure fluff is not as easy as you’d think, but maybe that’s only an issue when you’re emotionally constipated like me...💀 anyway, here’s to the birthday boy. 🌹

You want to be sure Jaehyun’s birthday gift is perfect this year, which is why you spent so much time saving up for it. To you, it often felt a little hard to measure up to all the lavish gifts he gets every year for his birthday from fans, friends, and family members—especially since it’s on Valentine’s Day—but he always claimed that you could get him anything and he’d love it.

You and Jaehyun haven’t met up very frequently this week, partly because you’d both been busy preparing your gifts for each other; you for his birthday, and him for Valentine’s Day. You weren’t too upset about that, though. Being able to see him when the day finally came around would make it even more special after the time spent away from each other.

It’d been a lot harder than you’d anticipated to keep your gift secret, but only because you’re so excited for him to finally know what you’d gotten for him. You’re eager to see his reaction to it and hear what he might say about it. You’re also wondering what he might be planning for you, but you’ve done your very best not to pester him about it too much—even though you really want to.

The day of his birthday, you’re so jittery that you even get up earlier than usual so you can get dressed and make sure your look for the day is perfect. You end up calling Jaehyun while you put your makeup on, not wanting to wait any longer to talk to him. It’s not too early in the day when you call, because you know he won’t like getting up at that hour, but maybe early enough to cause a small complaint.

“Hi Y/N,” he answers after a few seconds, voice a bit deeper than usual—probably because he just got up. You grin at the sound of his voice.

“Good morning! Happy birthday, baby! Did I wake you? I’m sorry, haha.”

“Y/N.” Jaehyun repeats your name and smiles on the other end. You can’t see this, but you can hear his laugh, which is full of happiness at your greeting. “Thank you, sweet girl. It’s fine, I don’t really care, I was gonna get up soon anyway.” You hear the sheets rustling in the background and figure that’s him getting up now. “And of course, Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“The day for lovers, how could I ever forget.” You smirk to yourself, sifting through your makeup bag for a certain highlighter. “By the way, you’re gonna come over today, right? I have something for you,” you tell him in a singsong-y mischievous tone.

“Oh?” Jaehyun perks up at that. “You want me to come over now? Because...I have something for you too, for Valentine’s Day, but it’s here at my place.”

“Ah, really?” You laugh. “Come to my place first, it’s your birthday and you should get your present first.”

“But since it’s my birthday, shouldn’t you come here? Do it for me~”

You almost roll over with laughter. “Aw, Jaehyun! I can’t believe you’re using that cute tone with me, I know you hate aegyo.”

He sighs, and you know he’s probably blushing from embarrassment. “Hmm, okay, okay. Never gonna do that one again. Should we flip a coin on it, then? If I win, you have to come over with whatever your gift is.”

You chuckle. “Flip a coin? You serious?”

“Dead serious. Get on FaceTime.”

“Now?” You snort and look at yourself in the mirror, makeup only half-done.

“You don’t want to? What are you hiding?” Now his voice takes on a sneaky note.

“I’m not hiding anything, but if that’s what you want, then prepare yourself...”

You both hang up and Jaehyun calls you on FaceTime a few seconds later. You smile when you see his face on the other end, still bare from just waking up. One corner of his mouth tugs up in a smirk when he sees you, then he bursts into a full grin, giggling at your half-made-up face.

“Well, that was unexpected.”

“Yes, yes, laugh it up! My own boyfriend clowning me on Valentine’s Day, how sweet of you.” You pout for good measure.

“You laugh at me nearly everyday,” he points out, and you must admit that he’s right. “Anyway, you always look pretty to me.” Then he pulls a hand through his hair in a way that he knows can always make you swoon, and you sigh in defeat.

“...Okay, you’re forgiven.”

You see him rummage around for a moment before the phone straightens again; now he holds a coin between his fingers. “So. What side do you want?”

“I guess heads.”

Jaehyun snickers momentarily before affecting a nonchalant expression again. “Yeah, I’ll take tails then.”

“Stop being dirty-minded,” you complain, rolling your eyes.

“I’m not, Y/N,” he insists, though his tone suggests otherwise. He flips the coin into the air and points the phone camera to where it landed on the ground—heads.

“I won! Now you have to come over,” you cheer.

“Fine, fine.” He shakes his head and laughs. “I’ll be over soon. Wait for me.”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere else, now would I?”

Jaehyun arrives at your place a little while later, and he’s a bit starstruck when you open the door. Now with your makeup finished, you’re wearing a red dress with heels to match and your hair is styled prettily, falling over your shoulders. You smile happily at him, pulling at his shoulders to get him to come inside.

“Hi Jaehyun,” you say, closing the door after him and hugging him. He squeezes you back tightly, leaving a kiss on your bare shoulder and breathing in the scent of your hair.

“Y/N. How do you manage to get prettier everyday?”

“Because you love me so much.” You give him a kiss and tug his hand to guide him into the living room. You lead him to sit down on your couch, though you don’t sit next to him just yet. “Okay, before I give you your gift, you gotta close your eyes first.”

“Close my eyes? What is it?” Jaehyun keeps hold of your hand as he asks this, grinning up at you.

“You won’t know until you do what I say, silly!” He relents, although a bit reluctantly, and lets go of your hand so he can close his eyes. You go to get his gift from your bedroom and come back into the living room with it, holding it out in front of him. “Open your eyes now.”

When he does, he sees you holding a small wrapped box. “Why’d I have to close my eyes? I still can’t tell what it is.” He chuckles as he takes it from you. “The suspense is gonna kill me,” he jokes as he begins unwrapping it.

When Jaehyun finally gets the wrapping off and gets the box open, his face softens as he sees what’s inside and takes it in his hand. You clasp your own hands together, your skin warming at his smile. “It might not be what you’re used to in terms of like, luxury, you know...but it looked nice and I thought it’d look good on you.”

“Y/N…you must’ve spent a lot on this,” Jaehyun murmurs, examining the shiny new face of the watch in his hand. He holds it as if it were a rare jewel, turning it on all its sides to examine it. It’s mostly black leather and silver, but it was still more than usual for your budget, costing you a few hundred dollars.

“I did save up for some months...and still had to use a payment plan for it. Good thing we never broke up in that timespan or I woulda been shit outta luck.” Jaehyun snorts and shakes his head at your statement, knowing you’d say something like that to lighten the mood.

“Thank you baby,” he says, sliding his new watch onto his wrist. “You know this means the world to me.” He goes over to the window to see it better in the natural lighting, holding it up to the light to see it sparkle. You go over to him and peek over his shoulder, grinning softly. “I’ll have to pay you back.” You raise your eyebrows.

“What? It’s your birthday present, why would you—”

“You’ll see later,” he says mysteriously, and you give him a curious look. “Meanwhile, we should go somewhere. The day’s still early, so let’s enjoy it.”

“You’re right,” you say, glancing at the new watch once more and then kissing him on the cheek. “Let’s go, then.”

It’s evening by the time you get back to Jaehyun’s place, having already eaten at an upscale restaurant that he’d reserved. You’d had no idea about it, and you were glad you’d taken the initiative to dress up today. Both of you spent the earlier part of the day going out to brunch and then exploring the city for a few hours, which even included taking one of those romantic boat rides that the nearby lake always offers on Valentine’s Day. You thought it would be kind of cheesy at first, but it turned out way more fun than you could imagine.

When you step inside his place, you’re surprised to see everything is decorated pretty lavishly; the overhead lights are dimmed, leaving a bunch of small tea lights as the main illumination. There are rose petals spread everywhere, too, and the sitting room is set up with pillows and blankets and a nice spread of chocolates and wine on the coffee table.

You gasp, studying the surroundings. “How did you arrange all this? We were together all day.”

“Had some help from the guys; they came while we were gone. Hope they didn’t take anything, though...” Jaehyun shrugs as if this whole setup is no big deal, but his dimples poke out from the gleeful smile on his lips. He picks up an unlit candle from the coffee table, and you notice there are a few more spread around. “Now that we’re here, we can light these. Safety first, you know.”

“Of course,” you snicker, taking your jacket and shoes off so you can sit down on one of the pillows. You take up the bottle of wine and inspect the label while Jaehyun finds a lighter for the candles. “Considering that we already drank at the restaurant...don’t be surprised if I’m off my ass by the end of the night.”

“We don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to,” he suggests, raising one eyebrow.

“Oh no, I want to!” Jaehyun laughs at your enthusiasm as you open the wine and pour a glass for each of you. Once he’s done lighting the candles, he goes into his room. You lean back on the cushion and take your glass in your hand, waiting for him to come back.

Jaehyun returns soon with his blazer discarded and the first few buttons of his shirt undone. “I see you’ve gotten relaxed, too.” You smirk, crossing your legs. “You look so handsome with your new watch. I’m glad I got it for you.”

“Then I think you’ll like this even more.”

“Hmm?” You turn to Jaehyun as he sits on one of the pillows beside you. Your eyes widen when he pulls out a velvet case you didn’t notice before. It’s not a ring case, though, which really would’ve caused you to fall out; it’s the kind you use for bracelets or necklaces. He places it in your hands, and you gingerly take it from him like it might vanish if handled too roughly. “Oh...what is…?”

“You have to open it.” He grins, mimicking your earlier teasing of him with his own gift. You set down your wine glass and open the velvet rectangle to find a delicate necklace lying inside. At the end of it is a small circle with tiny diamonds embedded in it.

“Oh wow...it’s perfect,” you whisper, taking it out of the box and looking it over with enamored eyes. “Is this what you meant by ‘paying me back’? Because, Jesus, this is Cartier. I think you’ve done more than enough.” You smile wistfully and shake your head.

“Let me put it on you,” he says, and you give him the necklace so he can do so. You turn away from him, and you shiver a little at the feeling of his breaths on the back of your neck and his fingertips brushing your skin. You face him again when he’s done fastening it and throw your arms around his neck, hugging him closer to you and smiling against his dimpled cheek.

“I love you, Jaehyun. Thank you so much.”

Jaehyun’s lips curve up at your words, and he tucks his face against you, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your jaw. “I love you, Y/N.”

153 notes · View notes

patt-writes-stuff · 3 years

Text

Pink (Hawks x gn!Reader)

Pairing: Hawks/Takami Keigo x gn! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: cursing but that’s about it!

Genre: Fluff, slight angst, Romantic/Relationship

Tags/Aus: boss x secretary, pining, slow burn, slight cannon divergence probably

Summary: 5 times your boss, Hawks, made you flustered + the one time you made him flustered

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! This is my fic for the Attack on Academia server’s Secret Santa Event!! This is for @sugacookiies !! and I really hope you like it!!!

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 1

“Thank you so much for coming today, we’ll be sure to get back to you soon,” the lady who had been interviewing you said, smiling at you. You bowed your head slightly, thanking her for her time with a small smile on your face.

After exiting the room and closing the door, you took a deep breath, as if to calm your still very present nerves. You had been up for a job as a secretary at pro hero Hawk’s agency, something you were more than thrilled about.

Growing up, you’d always been immensely intrigued with the world of pro heroes. Your room had been decked out in hero figurines and posters, the whole nine yards. Hell, even your comforter was hero themed at a certain point in time. It had just always fascinated you how these people would use their quirks for the good of humanity and to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

Sadly, your quirk, MoodLocks, wasn’t very useful in crime-fighting. All it did was allow your hair to change colors depending on your mood. It was pretty, of course, but you had a hard time controlling it and it could never help you beat an opponent. If anything, it would give the villain an insight into your thoughts and put you at a clear disadvantage.

So, as time passed, your childish fantasies of becoming a hero did as well. It didn’t bother you anymore, as you were more than happy with the career you’d chosen. Your love of heroes was still very much present, hence why you were so nervous about today’s interview. If you got the job, not only would the pay be incredible, but you’d also get the chance to help an actual hero. Maybe you’d even get the chance to meet more of them!

You were pretty sure you had made a fairly good impression so hopefully, you would indeed get a call from the agency soon.

Walking out of the agency, you couldn’t help but let out a yawn. You’d stayed up far too late last night googling commonly asked job interview questions so you wanted nothing more than to get back to your apartment and catch up on some much-needed rest. Maybe you and your roommate could order in.

“Oh God, I am so sorry that was my fault. I just finished this super stressful interview and I’m super tired so I was not watching where I was going-” your babbling came to a sudden halt as you looked up, brain losing all ability to form coherent thoughts.

Right before your very eyes was the man who’s “a bit too fast” in all his red-winged glory. You’d seen him in interviews online, of course, you kept up with most pro hero interviews, so you knew he was handsome. However, the cameras most certainly did not do the man justice. His yellow glasses were resting on his forehead, pushing his messy (and very soft looking) blond hair back. His gold eyes seemed to be looking right into your soul, calculating yet calm.

God, you wished you could make your eyeliner look remotely similar to his.

He raised an eyebrow at you, and you realized that you’d been staring for what you could only describe as an uncomfortably long amount of time.

Before you could embarrass yourself further, the winged hero placed a gloved hand on your shoulder. He looked at the top of your head, an intrigued expression adorning his face before morphing into an easy smile, he spoke, “‘S no problem, chickadee. Good luck with your interview.”

And just like that, the hero went along his merry way.

Curious what he’d been staring at, not to mention the nickname, you looked up at your hair, which had previously been a bright shade of orange due to being anxious, was now very pink. You blanched at the thought of having lost control of your quirk so easily, in front of a cute guy pro hero who might be your future boss no less.

‘Well,’ you thought, ‘at least I can say I met Japan’s #2 hero even if I don’t get this job.’

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 2

Much to your surprise, and pleasure, you had indeed received a call from Hawks’ agency about a week later. After several follow up interviews (much more than you were expecting, honestly, but you suppose it made since he’s such a high ranking hero) a very thorough background check, you had gotten the job.

When you had gotten the job, you had been hoping that the blond would have forgotten your first encounter, since you had literally malfunctioned right before his very eyes. The chances of him forgetting weren’t exactly small, after all. You were sure he met plenty of people every day and your interaction had been incredibly brief.

A month into your job as his secretary, you seemed to be in the clear. Sure, he knew about your quirk, since he was your employer and the ever-changing array of colors in your hair aren’t exactly subtle, but seeing as he hadn’t mentioned it so he’d probably forgotten.

You’d stayed at the agency long after your shift was overdue to a couple of low-ranking villains attempting to rob a bank. It had been an easy win for Hawks, he was in and out of there long before his sidekicks had even gotten there, but the villains had caused a lot of unnecessary damage to the building, so there was a ridiculous amount of paperwork.

You couldn’t wait to get home and change out of your stuffy work clothes and into the comfiest pair of PJs you owned. Your roommate, always a sweetheart, had been kind enough to save you some leftovers from her dinner so all you had to do was warm it up, eat, shower, and crash on your bed.

Whilst you were getting ready to head home, your boss had decided that it was only fair to walk you home, seeing as it was late. You had insisted that he didn’t need to do that, even showing him the can of pepper spray you carried around your person at all times. Still, he’d insisted, and who were you to say no?

The winged hero had originally offered to fly you home, but you’d profusely told him it wasn’t necessary. So, the two of you ended up taking the train. The two of you got a couple of weird stares from your fellow passengers, seeing as the flying hero was taking a train instead of y’know… flying and his wings took a significantly large part of the seat the two of you were occupying (it seemed uncomfortable but he didn’t mention it). Hawks seemed to either not notice or not care, opting instead to have an animated conversation with you about the best fried chicken places in Fukuoka. It was mostly him talking, but you’d add to the conversation every once in a while, and sometimes people would interrupt and ask for an autograph, which he’d sign with a carefree smile on his face.

“You don’t have to walk me home, sir,” you told him after the two of you had exited the station closest to your apartment.

“What kind of hero would I be if I let a civilian walk alone across the dark streets of Japan?” He asked you, tone light and teasing. “Also, didn’t I tell you to call me Hawks? Sir makes me feel old.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at his words, turning to the left towards your apartment. You’d get there soon and a small part of you wanted to keep the banter going for as long as possible.

“I don’t think that would be very professional of me, sir,” you said playfully. He laughed and the two of you settled into a comfortable silence while you walked.

After a moment, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and he spoke up, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, how exactly does your quirk work?”

“Oh well, y’know, it changes color depending on my mood, so red means I’m angry, blue can mean I’m sad or calm, pink means I’m flustered or embarrassed, purple means I’m scared, etc.”

“So your hair went pink the first time we met because you were starstruck by my devilishly good looks?” He asked in a faux haughty tone. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.”

The asshole remembered your first encounter.

Your hair turned pink and you celebrated inwardly as you approached your apartment. As you opened the glass door to the complex, Hawks laughed at your hurry.

“Good night,” you stated, tone indignant at his laughter, as you made your way inside.”

“‘Night, Pinky.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 3

Working for the red-winged hero himself was both everything you were expecting it to be and completely the opposite of it at the same time.

The hours were crazy, something you were anticipating considering villain activity had been increasing and your boss was a busy public figure. What you were certainly not anticipating, however, was that Hawks would be such a teasing little shit.

Not only had the man remembered your first encounter, but after you had explained your quirk to him (he’d asked you about it despite it being in the agency’s records since you had applied for the position, you guessed he’d done it as a way to break the ice) he’d taken it upon himself to fluster you to get your hair to go that embarrassingly bright shade of pink.

He’d call you all sorts of nicknames ranging from pinky to songbird (your favorite was by far Pinky since it feels so personal. Not that you’d ever tell him that). He’d also gotten into the habit of trying out all sorts of ridiculous pick up lines on you. The greater majority of them were bird-related, of course. Those never really got you but they did make you laugh.

The one that probably got you the most was when he’d bring you your favorite drink or lunch from a place you’d mentioned you’d like offhandedly, saying he had just been “flying by” and remembered your conversation.

You didn’t mind his flirtatious banter in the slightest. He never crossed any boundaries and kept things professional when it came to business. It was pretty fun to see what nicknames or pickup lines he had up his sleeves.

The only downside was that you’d begun to develop a slight crush on the red-winged hero. It would never lead to anything, you were well aware of that. He was not only a famous hero who was constantly under public scrutiny, but he was also your boss.

It can’t hurt to dream though.

“What’s got you so distracted?” An all too familiar broke your very him-centric train of thought. You looked up from the paperwork you’d been blankly staring at. You’d been trying to multitask between eating and doing paperwork so you wouldn’t have to take any work home. After much insistence from your roommate, who was well aware of your crush on Your boss (she’d teasingly gifted you a pair of Hawks themed PJs on your birthday), you had finally given in and agreed to let her set you up on a date with a former schoolmate of hers.

“Nothing, just thinking about a date I have tonight,” you lied, looking up from your desk to meet those lovely honey-colored eyes you spent more hours than you’d care to admit thinking about. You scanned his body language, trying to gauge his reaction. Not that you could ever get a read on him. More often than not, it was impossible to get a read on him under the visage of carefree indifference he was so well known for. In the almost half a year you’d known him you’d never once seen the hero lose his cool or show any emotion other than the ones he wanted to portray. It was kind of unfair seeing as he could get a picture-perfect look into your thoughts and emotions just by looking at the color of your hair and here you were, left grasping at straws.

He seemed to have no outward reaction other than his shoulders tensing and his eyebrows scrunching up a bit in mild distaste. It was gone so fast you were sure you must have just imagined it.

“Pinky’s got themselves a date?” he said after a moment, a slightly forced teasing tilt to his voice. He crossed his hands and placed them on the taller part of your desk and leaned his weight on them, staring down at you with a cheeky grin.

“I guess so,” you said, fiddling with your chopsticks as you continued, “I’m kind of nervous though. I haven’t got on any dates since I started working here, I’m a little rusty.”

“How come you haven’t gone on any dates?” he asked, staring at you with an intensity you weren’t quite expecting from him. “Had a special someone in mind?”

The roots of your hair went white in surprise before you managed to school them into going back to your natural hair color. It was brief but he had surely noticed.

“I’d go on lots of dates if my boss gave me more days off,” you said, pushing past the momentary lull in the conversation and giving him a pointed look.

He let out a laugh, a real and genuine one, unlike the ones he’d let out during interviews or out in public. The thought made your face heat up. It made you feel special. Even if he didn’t see you in the same way you saw him, he at least trusted you enough to be real around you. That was enough for you.

“You’ve got nothing to be nervous about, kid, any person would be lucky to land a date with someone as beautiful as you,” He stated, looking at you with a certain emotion behind his gaze that you couldn’t quite decipher. “If your date happens to go south, just give me a call and I’ll pick you up. After all, what kind of hero would I be if I didn’t look out for my secretary?”

You looked at his retreating form, your hair as pink as bubble gum and heart threatening to beat out of your rib cage. He’d just called you beautiful. He’d also said that anyone would be lucky to date you. Did that include him? Did he like you?

“Hey Hawks,” you called out, surprising both him and yourself. Despite him telling you to just call him Hawks instead of ‘sir’, you’d stuck to calling him sir for the sake of professionality. “Thanks for the offer.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 4

You let out a tired sigh as you watched the number of floors go up on the tiny screen atop the doors of the elevator you were currently in.

When you had signed your contract to work at Hawks’ agency, you were aware that you would need to be accessible 24/7, however, you thought that if he did contact you at an ungodly hour, it’d be for something important, perhaps something along the lines of a press scandal or a massive villain attack that you’d need to start filing paperwork promptly so that the agency could report the casualties or cost of the destruction. You had highly doubted Hawks, Japan’s literal #2 hero would call his secretary at 3:00 a.m. in the goddamn morning and order them to bring him a bucket of fried chicken from fucking KFC.

You clearly hadn’t known the man at the time, you thought as you stared at the red and white bucket in your arms.

The elevator dinged, alerting you that you had arrived at your destination. Making your way through the hallway, you tried to figure out why your boss would be so cruel as to make you get him fast food when he had two perfectly capable wings that could take him to and from the nearest KFC faster than you ever could. You bet it’d even be warmer.

You’d need to download UberEats on his phone.

Before your fist could make contact with the door, it was swung open, surprising your half-asleep brain. Before your eyes there was a very awake looking Hawks, his eyes zeroed in on the bucket you were holding

“Hey there, chickadee,” he said in a teasing tone, resting his arm on the door frame in a very attractive manner. God, if you were just a bit more coherent and a little less sleep-deprived, your hair would be the most embarrassingly bright pink color imaginable.

Thankfully, you weren’t and you could hear your bed calling your name from across the city, so without bothering to answer, you shoved the bucket of chicken into his arms before turning around to speed your way back to your at this point cold bed.

Before you could get very far, however, Hawks had grabbed your wrist with your free hand.

“You’re not leaving already, are you?” He asked you, letting go of your wrist.

“It’s 3 in the goddamn morning, Hawks,” was your deadpan answer.

“C’mon, you wouldn’t let your poor boss eat all alone would you,” you could tell his tone was meant to be light and playful but it was lacking his usual flare.

Your concern for the overgrown pigeon won out, and with a defeated sigh, you walked into his apartment, Hawks trailing behind you, visibly pleased that you stayed.

Despite all your time working for Hawks, you’d never actually been inside of his apartment. You had come here several times before to drop off documents he needed to sign or a new schedule (because the Hero Commission apparently couldn’t send emails directly to him) but you had always left the things at his building's front desk.

Hawks’ apartment was… emptier than you had expected it to be. It was nice, the furniture was obviously high quality, not that it was surprising considering he was a high ranking hero, but it lacked a personal touch. It had no pictures or knick-knacks in sight. It felt more like a house instead of an actual home.

“So, how’d your date go?” Hawks inquired once the two of you settled in his living room, him on the couch and you in the armchair next to it. He picked up a piece of chicken, offering it to you. However, it was far too early to even think about consuming food, so you politely declined.

“It was fine. He was nice,” you answered.

To be honest the date had gone well. He’d been nice, a complete gentleman. He’d taken you to a nice restaurant, he was great in conversation, he’d even walked you home but at the end of the night, the two of you had agreed that there was just no chemistry between the two of you whatsoever. You had decided to just stay friends.

“There won’t be a second one, though,” you added after a beat of silence.

“Good,” your eyes widened at his words and suddenly you had an epiphany.

Hawks had been jealous. He was jealous because he liked you. That’s why he had asked you to come here.

Before you could voice your thoughts, he spoke again, a sly smirk on his face, “By the way, I love your pajamas. I wasn’t aware you were such a fan.”

Your hair turned pink, as it often did whenever Hawks was around when you looked down at your clothes. In your haste to get Hawks his food so you could go back to bed, you had forgone changing clothes. You hadn’t realized you were wearing the Hawks themed PJs your roommate had gotten you as a gag gift. They were mustard-colored with lots of cute red feathers and tiny Hawks chibi heads scattered around the fabric.

He would never let you live this down.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 5

Following the KFC event, the two of you hadn’t spoken about the situation further. At this point, you were well aware of his feelings for you, and you hadn’t exactly been subtle about liking him. The two of you just hadn’t spoken about it. You weren’t official but there was an unspoken rule that neither of you would go on dates with other people.

You were fine with it. Really, you were.

Except that you were definitely not okay with it and you were very much upset that he had just answered that he was single when the lady that had interviewed him had asked him if he was seeing anyone.

Rationally, you understood why he said no. You weren’t official and saying yes would just throw the media into a frenzy while they speculated who he was seeing. You remember how crazy everyone went a couple of months ago when pictures of Mirko and Hawks in their street clothes hanging out started circulating on Twitter. They were trending for weeks, and you had had to answer call after call, explaining that no, they are not dating and no, they don’t have time to go on the 8:00 a.m. news to answer questions about what it was like to date as pro heroes.

On the other hand, you were tired of dancing around each other. You were aware that dating a pro hero would come with hectic schedules and even some danger, but you didn’t care.

“So I was thinking you could come over and we can watch that hero documentary you told me to watch- hey are you mad at me?” Hawks asked, brows furrowed as in confusion.

“No, I’m not angry at you,” you answered, putting your stuff away and heading to the agency’s doors. You were more than ready to go back to your apartment and there was a pint of your favorite ice cream waiting for you in the freezer with your name on it.

“You totally are,” he scoffed, following after you.

“No, I'm not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I am not.”

“Yes, you are.” Your overgrown pigeon of a boss insisted, mimicking your tone, “If you’re not angry then why is your hair red?”

With a sigh, you spoke, failing to hide the snarky tone to your voice “So what if I am angry? Why do you care? It’s not like we’re dating or anything.” You walked out onto the sidewalk.

“Oh, that’s what you're upset about?” He asked, realization dawning upon his features. When you didn’t answer he kept talking, “You of all people know why I didn’t say anything.”

“I know. It’s just- nothing, never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You told him, looking away with a defeated sigh.

You were about to walk away before he stopped you by placing his glove cladded hand

“At least let me take you home,” it wasn’t much of a question, but you nodded anyways.

All of a sudden, you let out a shrill scream when he picked you up bridal style, hands instinctively clasping on to his coat to assure you wouldn’t fall.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you home,” he explained as if it were obvious. Before you had a chance to argue he set off into the sky.

You couldn’t hear anything but the wind in your ears and his heartbeat, but you finally understood why he loved flying so much. Exhilarating was the only word you could use to describe it. And cold. It was also really cold. You understood why he walked around with such a heavy coat now. You snuggled more into him, trying to get some more warmth, which caused Hawks to tighten his hold on you. The affectionate gesture alone had your hair going a shade of pink.

You got to your apartment building much faster than you ever would by taking the train, something that you regretted a bit since it meant he’d let go of you.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, “maybe we should-“

“Keigo,” he said, effectively cutting you off,

“W-what?” You spluttered, caught off guard.

“I want you to call me Keigo,” he said with a sense of finality, looking into your eyes with an emotion you couldn’t quite read, or at least one that you were just choosing to ignore. It’d just make what you were about to suggest harder.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, opening the door that led to the stairs, “I really like you, hell, maybe even more than that, and I want to be with you but I don’t want to be whatever we are right now forever.”

Ignoring the way his wings physically dropped at your words, you closed the door behind you and headed to your apartment.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 1

Once you got home, you immediately stripped out of your work clothes and into your Hawks-themed pajamas (because they're the comfiest, not because they remind you of him, obviously) and you’d taken out your ice cream and went to town on it. Your roommate had noticed the dark blue that had taken over your hair but you’d brushed her off, saying it was nothing to worry about. She’d been doubtful, but she had a night shift so she left, but not before making you promise to call her if you needed to.

You’d spent the rest of the evening eating your ice cream and watching tv before deciding to get some sleep so you would feel at least a little less sorry for yourself tomorrow.

You were currently in your room, scrolling through your phone on your bed before calling it a day when you started to hear a tapping sound. You’d ruled it out to be some tree branch knocking against your window due to the wind. However, the longer you ignored it the more incessant it became.

You nearly fell out of your bed when you realized it was Hawks, your boss, the #2 pro hero of Japan, tapping on your window while squatting on your fire escape.

You got up, heading towards your window and unlocking it before pushing it up. You helped him in before sitting down on the bed and motioning for him to do the same. An awkward silence filled the air, neither of you was quite sure of what you should say.

“Hawks, what are-“ you started before being cut off by him.

“Look, Pinky, I love you so much it scares the shit out of me,” he declared. Your hair went the brightest shade of pink it had ever been at his words.

He played with the embroidered design of the throw blanket you kept in your bed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the red-winged hero so vulnerable in all your time knowing him.

“But there’s a lot of crap that comes with my job and I could never forgive myself if I brought you into it and you got hurt. So-“ before he could finish speaking, you grabbed onto his coat’s collar with both of your hands and crashed your lips against his.

You’d waited almost an entire year for this. One thing was for certain, it was well worth the wait. You loved every single thing about him. And he loved you. That was all you needed.

After a beat, you pulled away, choosing instead to cup his cheek in an adoring manner. The two of you looked at each other with nothing short of pure unadulterated adoration.

“I love you Keigo,” you spoke his name for the first time, “as long as you’re by my side I don’t care about what happens.”

His reaction was, for lack of a better word, cute. His honey eyes were wide in shock, his face as red as his wings, and his aforementioned wings were puffed up in shock. Now you understood why he loved teasing you so much.

“So, do you wanna watch the documentary?” You asked him, walking out of your room and into the living room with a victorious smirk.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #takami x reader #hawks #keigo takami #takami keigo #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #secret santa fic #patt’s creations

224 notes · View notes

gorochanfanclub · 3 years

Text

Sentiment

Majima x Unnamed Female Character

Summary: Majima and his girlfriend are watching a movie on the floor in their living room. When he reaches out to hold her, she is overcome with a feeling she can’t name.

Contains: fluff, a bit of angst (maybe), hinted depression, Majima being the secret softie he is

A/N: My first time writing a fic for Majima. Hope you guys like it! Wrote this with a specific person in mind (one of my OCs lmao) but left it purposefully extremely vague who the woman was so anyone reading this can imagine whatever they want. Comment below if you figure out what movie they’re watching!! It is indeed a real movie and I made sure to hint at it pretty hard lol, it’s one of my own personal favorites I think Majima actually would like. Also think it’s worth noting I wrote this entire thing while listening to 1984 by Junko Yagami on loop lmao. Was inspired by an edit on Instagram using this song. (edit was by eyeglassez on there)

She nearly had drifted off to sleep when it happened. The comfortable weight of him on top of her, his heat warming her, the feeling of his hannya patterned ink under her sleep heavy hand, even the low, humming voices on the TV illuminating the dark room, all threatened to carry her away to a land of peaceful dreams.

As she lay on the bedroll in the living room, the soft cotton sheets cradling her like an infant, her left hand rest on Majima’s shoulder blade, the other next to her face. His right hand rest under her head, beneath the plush pillow she placed it on. His other rest dangerously close to her right, fingers mere millimeters apart.

This wasn’t an uncommon position for the two to be in. She enjoyed his warmth, the cold of this world being soothed by his soft body heat. He reveled in the feeling of a body pressed to his, often coming up with the excuse, ‘fat tits like yers are better ‘n any pillow out there.’

She couldn’t even remember what was happening in the film Majima had insisted they watch together. It was a Hong Kong made film, one of those kung fu type movies Majima couldn’t seem to get enough of. Her eyelids get heavy as she tries to stay lucid enough to listen, knowing Majima would want to talk about it later, probably referencing lines from the movie for weeks to come.

Straining them open, she sees a little girl on the screen, getting harassed by a group of boys just a few years older than her. They tug at the rainbow lollipop in her hand, attempting to rip it from her small hands. Suddenly, another boy, much too small to fight even one of the bullies, comes running in her defense, leaving the group to abandon the girl and fight the young hero instead.

The screen then flashes to the same couple, grown adults now, yet the same hero and the same girl who never go to thank her savior. From a small box, the girl produces the swirly confectionary, handing it to the now adult man who had rescued her all those years ago.

She wasn’t sure what was going to happen next after that. Her drowsiness clouded her mind too much to even think about the intimacy of such a scene on the television.

Perhaps Majima had felt touched by the story that unfolded before him, or perhaps he just wanted more to feel. Gently, his fingers stretch to hers, lacing their hands together next to her head. His usually gloved thumb, now lying naked in an embrace with another hand, gracefully rubbed the back of her palm.

It was so soft, so feather light, she might not have noticed it had she been anyone else. Yet, she was her, and in an instant, all sleep that threatened to take her over was gone, full lucidity coming back to her as she nearly gasped.

She stayed as still as a statue, hoping Majima wouldn’t notice the change in her breathing. Luckily he didn’t, his eye stayed glued to the screen, mindlessly holding onto her as he continued his action.

Heart beating in her chest, she didn’t know how to react. He was being so… gentle. What did she do to be deserving of any of this kindness?

Her eyes dilate, losing focus of the television and staring at nothing in particular. She feels her mind wander, the feeling of his warm skin on hers flooding her thoughts, the voices on the screen just in front of her being replaced with his.

***

The night air breezed past them as they walked. It whipped through his bowl cut, blowing delicate strands into his one good eye, shielding it from her view.

She could watch him forever. He was like a piece of fine art to her; all rigid and strong with the softest curves on his face. The neon lights seemed to illuminate his skin, making it shine with a heavenly glow from within. The snakeskin leather on his shoulder glittered in the night, each scale gleaming in turn.

When he noticed her eyes boring holes into him, he turned his head with a smirk, “Ya keep staring like that, I got somethin’ on my face?”

His eye twinkled as he joked, the brown of it turning to blue, then green, then purple as the street passed him by, its light forming a colorful kaleidoscope on his features.

She was completely starstruck, the ability to form words long gone from her, her entire brain focused on taking him in. Her lips parted, trying to muster a response to his question, only awed breaths falling from them.

As he smiled back, chuckling at her silence, she felt the heat rise to her cheeks, warming her face in the cold. The blush on her skin made his heart swell, though she would never know that. His smile falls for a second, his typically harsh features softening as they walk side by side, eyes never leaving one another.

Not looking where she was going, her foot catches on something sticking up from the ground. She wasn’t sure what it could have been; perhaps it was an uneven paving stone, a discarded paper coffee cup, or even just her own clumsiness. Though, whatever it was, it had her falling to the ground fast.

Long before she could recognize what was happening to her, a warm, leather gloved hand was gripping her forearm, halting her descent to the concrete beneath her feet.

If she had been starstruck before, her head was spinning now, every nerve in her body feeling fuzzy in the proximity of the man looking down at her. At this angle, he looked ethereal, the moon above glowing on the back of his head like a halo. For just a moment, she felt he might sprout wings and fly her up to heaven.

Swallowing, she feels him pull her up, standing her flush against him. The open hem of her jacket tickled his chest, sending a fluttering inside him. They were so close, almost close enough to feel his heart beat against hers.

He scoffed cockily, his breath creating a misty cloud around him. When the fog cleared, he spoke, “Better watch where yer goin’, missy. Can’t have ya getting hurt on me, now can I?”

The tenderness in his tone said more than his words had. What he meant to say was, ‘Please be careful, I want you safe,’ but the meaning got lost in translation from heartbeat to Japanese.

Yet, she felt herself nodding, understanding perfectly what his original intention had been.

***

His stirring on her chest brought her to the present. Hopefully he wasn’t getting up, she needed him there, weighing her down, keeping her grounded while her thoughts were anywhere but this Earth.

Fortunately, Majima only sighs, his torso rising then falling under her still hand. He shifts slightly, his long legs moving against hers as he finds a new position atop her to lay. His head even shifts, hair rubbing against her chest, and nose gracing her night shirt.

Staying still became harder and harder the more Majima moved. Every muscle in her body wanted to both tense and melt at the same time. Her heart beat so loudly against her chest, she could hear it in her ears.

Looking down to the hand inside his, she bites her lip, trying to keep the quivering of it to a minimum. His grip on it tightens ever so slightly, and she is sure he knows she was staring at him. However, when she looks back to the screen, she sees fists flying and tensions rising, a sign that his grasp was only due to the suspense on screen.

At this she relaxes, feeling safe from his teasing for even just a moment. The last thing she wanted was for him to notice her nerves and have this moment end.

Rotating her head gently, she looks up. The darkness of the ceiling seemed to reflect on her, reminding her that that was life before Majima; dark, bleak, flat, and devoid of all color and warmth.

***

On days like these, she wanted nothing more than to just crawl up into a ball and fade away, her own existence crushing her like the heaviest burden there could be. It felt even hard to breathe, her lungs squeezing with sorrow.

Yet, she trugged the streets, walking to the place she had promised to meet him. He wasn’t one for planning things but today was an exception he had said. Nishida told her he was feeling ‘uncharacteristically structured.’ So despite her aching being, she marched to meet him.

He sat in the cafe, idly scrolling through his phone when she arrived. Meekly, she walked up to his table, feeling like being around him might be enough to soothe her soul.

It wasn’t until she sat down that he looked up. All it took was that one glance from his right eye to bring light to her vision. Like stepping out of a tunnel, he showered her in sunlight.

His lips turned up into a smile when he noticed her presence in front of him. He winked, shoving his phone into his pocket absentmindedly, right now, his only focus was on her. “Hey, darlin’,” he flirted, “it took ya long enough. Thought I might have t’ go lookin’ fer ya.”

She mustered the strongest grin she could, forcing all her energy into imitating him, hiding whatever pain lingered just beneath the surface. Her own face felt so heavy though, and even just that simple action hurt, exhausting her to the bone.

Even the most subtle change on her face was noticed by Majima. A lot of the time, she felt he could read her mind, see her soul. He always seemed to know what she was feeling, even when she didn’t know it herself.

Her whole life, people only ever bothered to take her at face value, none dared to look beyond her mask; until him. He seemed to be the only person who could feel her, see her, and hear her the way she so desperately wanted to be felt, seen, and heard.

Catching the pained expression she held, his smile fell, being replaced with one of almost shocking concern. “Wait, what’s wrong with ya? Ya look like half dead, sweetheart.” His brows furrowed as he studied her, eyes pushing back the veil to take a closer look.

She only shakes her head, looking down in embarrassment. She never wanted to make him worry, to take away that smile she loved seeing. The guilt of his emotion pressed on her.

He sighs, smacking the table with both gloved hands. “Well I can’t have ya sittin’ around all mopey like this,” he teases, sing song in his voice being exaggerated more than usual, like hands trying to lift her up.

“Let’s get outta here,” he gestures with a thumb over his back. He takes a look around, scrunching up his face, “This place is a dump anyway.”

He stands, looking down to her with soft eyes and a half smile. The sympathy in his features nearly broke her. He was so tender in the way he looked at her, trying to tell her ‘You’ll be okay, I’m right here,’ without speaking.

A black hand extends to her, fingers spread wide open, awaiting her to place her own inside it. Shaking with anticipation and anxiety, she gives the hand what it wants. Gently, his glove closes around her skin, leading her to follow him into the street.

Alone on the sidewalk and away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears, his voice lowers, losing all semblance of its usual insincerity, “How about I treat you to some takoyaki? You like yours with extra sauce, don’t you?”

***

The loud music of the film’s end credits snap her from her thoughts. Glancing back to the television, she watches the white letters roll up on a black screen. The names of the actors and production team stare back at her, reminding her she hadn’t been paying attention.

As the music fades, and the credits finish out, the screen goes black, casting the room in a peaceful darkness. Only peaceful because he was here with her, shielding her from its harsh cold and uncertainty.

She feels him chuckle on her chest, muttering more to himself than her, “Shit, that was pretty damn good. Can’t believe that punk was some natural born kung fu master, never saw that one coming.”

With a sigh, he goes to unwrap his hand from hers and grab the remote to turn the TV off. He removes his arm from under her pillow to push off her and get up. Feeling his grasp on her hand loosen, she instinctively tightens her own, her other hand pushing his shoulder back down onto her chest.

Majima huffs, falling back onto her. Craning his head to try and look at her, he grumbles, “Jeez, lady, what’re you doin’?”

Her grip on him only tightens more, fingers digging into him, scared he might leave her grasp and disappear into the night. Not able to contain herself anymore, her muscles tense under him.

Her skin felt like it was on fire, every sensation of him on her burning hot with a feeling she couldn’t describe. Feeling her heart swelling to almost burst, she breathes deep, a stinging in her eyes becoming more and more prevalent.

She wasn’t sure what was happening to her, why all of the sudden she felt like a dam had broken inside her, emotion gushing through the cracks and drowning her on dry land.

Yet, of course he could tell. He always did. Squeezing her hand in his, he mutters to her, voice barely above a whisper. “You okay?” he asks tenderly, “I know it kinda got sappy there fer a minute but that ain’t no reason t’ cry.” Repeating his action from earlier, his thumb ghosts across her knuckles.

It could have been his physical touch or the way his words touched her soul but either way, that was the last crack in the dam. A sob erupted from her throat- hot, almost steamy tears cascading down her cheeks and onto the pillow.

She only grips him tighter, near to drawing blood with her nails on his back. Her head finds itself leaning against his silky black hair, cheek pressing firmly onto his skull. Nose buried in his dark locks, she chokes, tears still flowing like a waterfall, “I love you, Goro…”

The words fell from her lips like a prayer. Like it was the only important thing she would ever say. It felt like a confession, though the time for all that had long gone by.

In her moment of frail weakness, Majima is finally able to push off her, just enough to look her in the eye. Her vision of him was not as clear as usual, the water blurring him and barring her from seeking refuge in his eye. Had she not been crying, she would have seen the change in his face. It faded slowly from concern to ardor, plush lips pressing together.

Lifting his hand, he reaches it to touch her cheek, hot and wet from her overflow. Wiping some of the tears off her, he whispers, “I love you too, babe. More than ya know…”

Leaning in and capturing her lips on his, he seals his promise.

#majima goro x reader #goro majima x reader #majima x reader #goro majima #majima goro

315 notes · View notes

the-killer-queenie · 3 years

Text

Baby's first word (dad!Joonas)

Hey! It finally happened; I wrote my first fic ever. I know, I'm shook too. The things Blind Channel are making me do🥴

I really want to thank @poodlejoonas 💜 (the culprit xP) for not only letting me run with her AU but also for being a total angel and proof reading, making corrections and suggesting ideas. I'm linking both of her fics incluiding dad!Joonas but all of her fics are totally worthy and so extraordinarily written: poodlejoonas's dad!Joonas fic (aka the fic that started all) // the BC guys as uncles

Hope y'all enjoy it!☺️

After one year and a half without shows, the world slowly started to open up which meant Blind Channel managed to get new gigs in what seemed like forever. Everyone was thrilled at the idea of playing shows again like before the pandemic hit. Sure, UMK and Eurovision were amazing experiences but playing multiple times and only one song couldn't beat the adrenaline of performing a proper setlist in front of a real crowd jumping and singing along.

To say that Joonas was really excited wasn’t enough. His time was split between rehearsals with the band and spending time with you and Sohvi at your home. As perfectionist as the boys were, they even had to encourage Joonas to leave some rehearsals earlier so he could spend some well-deserved time with his daughter. But even at your home, Joonas would keep practicing (not that you would complain, since you love hearing him play and sing) giving mini acoustic shows to a starstruck Sohvi, who would watch his dad with loving eyes and sloppily clap when the songs ended.

Of course, the thought of bringing you and his little daughter to one of the shows crossed his mind, but both of you decided to wait a little more before taking young Sohvi to one of the band's concerts.

Despite only being away for a weekend, Joonas left you both with him promising he’d try not to go off the rails, to which you laughed and reassured him not to worry as long as he found his way home.

Joonas had to leave really early in the morning. You weren’t even up yet but felt his kiss on your cheek. You also heard him making a stop at your daughter’s room to say his goodbye to an asleep Sohvi.

At around the time Joonas would come home from the studio, you heard Sohvi babbling in the living room. Since she couldn’t talk yet, she motioned towards Joonas’s guitar he kept in the corner of the room, which you took as her way of questioning where her father was. “Clever girl,” you said as you picked her up. “Daddy is playing songs like when he plays it for you before bedtime, but this time for thousands of people.'' You knew she couldn’t yet understand her father’s profession but she made happy noises, which you took as a sign of understanding. "Such a good girl," you said as you bopped her nose. “We can go to the park and then we can call daddy, okay?” you proposed, which was met with even more cheerful noises.

Joonas came back late at night. You were taking a shower when you heard the rattle of keys and the front door being open. Joonas was finally home, and he left his guitar and bag against the wall. He heard the shower, so the first thing he did as soon as he dropped his stuff was check on Sohvi in her bedroom, where she lay asleep in her crib clutching her teddy bear (a present from Uncle Tommi). He tucked her in and gave her a kiss on her forehead. You, having finished your shower, stood against the door frame, adoringly observing the scene. The scene lasted for a moment until Joonas, feeling your presence, turned around with a cheeky smile.

"Enjoying the view?"

"Hey, you rockstar."

Joonas approached you and hungrily kissed you. Breaking off the kiss, you started to close Sohvi's bedroom door, so you could talk without waking her up. Joonas took a last look at the little baby and whispered.

"She's such an angel."

"She really is."

You could tell he was still buzzing with excitement from the weekend he just had. He seemed really excited to talk about the show and how good it felt to play live again. But as enthusiastic as he looked, he also looked extremely tired, so you immediately demanded him to go to bed and get some rest, promising he could tell you all about it in the morning.

The next day was a day spent with family. The band decided to take a few days before starting new rehearsals and working on the next album. You forced Joonas to stay in bed as you prepared breakfast and brought it to him. After that, both of you spent the morning cuddling, until you heard Sohvi waking up. Joonas finally left bed to greet his little angel. Sohvi was still sleepy but thrilled to see her dad. “Isä on täällä.”* Joonas softly said as she babbled and made grabby hands towards him. He took her out of the crib and carried her to your shared bed. What followed were more cuddles and Joonas’s weekend stories (at least the few “child-appropriate” ones, since Sohvi was present and you know kids are like sponges). He recounted how Olli lost his bass, which made you laugh but also made you both wonder if he still was the best choice for being Sohvi's godfather.

After lunch, Joonas received an email from their photographer with a bunch of videos of the concert, so naturally he had to show them to both of you. He set up his computer in front of the sofa, where you were sitting with Sohvi in your lap, and played the videos. Whenever Joonas was on scene, you’d point at the screen and say, “look Sohvi, that’s daddy right there,” and Joonas’s heart would melt. Sohvi even started to do little jumps and you could swear she was trying to mimic Joonas’s movements he did to hype up the crowd before Dark Side was played. Joonas was so delighted by the scene he took out his phone and started filming the whole situation.

“Look at her, a proper heir of the Porko dynasty.” Joonas joked, though you knew in reality, he was half-serious and wondered how much time would pass until she got any kind of instrument in her hands, either a present from Joonas or from any of her uncles.

But none of you were prepared to hear your baby saying her first word when Joonas’s solo came up: “isä.” She said “daddy” in her father’s native Finnish. Both you and Joonas froze and looked at each other with teary eyes as you both processed the moment. Joonas interrupted in cheers as he picked her up and kissed her cheek, his blonde curly hair getting in her face and making her laugh. You quickly grabbed Joonas’s phone from his hand, since it almost flew away as he spun Sohvi around and kept recording the tender moment.

"I have to tell the boys. They were sure her first word was going to be Porko. Joel even bet on it."

"Oh that explains their insistence on saying Porko even though you weren��t in the room but Sohvi was…”

*Isä on täällä = Daddy's here (according to google translator, so @ Finns feel free to correct me pls)

#joonas porko #blind channel #joonas porko x reader #anto (apparently) writes?

46 notes · View notes

yongiefilms · 4 years

Text

JUST ALWAYS.

STARRING: zhong chenle and reader

GENRE: fluff; best friend!au

WARNINGS: lawbreaking; excessive mentions of teasing; though the rest is complete friendship goals

PLOT: trust your best friend to know every detail of your life, even that one embarrassing time when you blabbered about your idea of a perfect date. but also trust him to be the one to fulfill every wish you ever had, even ones you thought would never come true.

RUNNING TIME: 2.7k

DIRECTOR’S NOTE: putting out fluff before every fic i drop is just pure angst because it is coming and very soon...but enjoy this cute scenario as my parting gift for you all (even if there will be possibly be a few more fluff fics after this, though don’t take my word for it). also shoutout to @dvrlingrenjun for always reading through my fics at ungodly hours of the day.

zhong chenle was your best friend since birth. you did everything together. there wasn’t a time when he wasn’t with you. you were the inseparable duo, the partners in crime, and one half of a whole. that was you and chenle. the best of friends, but not lovers like many assumed you to be. though that was never a problem, for it a topic of discussion that was never addressed, yet fully comprehensible to you both. it was a pure and friendly relationship, something that would sustain for years to come. he was there every step of the way and who says he wouldn't continue to be?

when you both were learning to ride bicycles, who was there? chenle. when you got your first tooth pulled, who was there? chenle. when you scraped your knee on the asphalt after running around the playground, who was there? chenle. for each and every memory.

he was always present, simply growing to be your best friend. sure you had others, consider the boys he befriended at the start of high school, but they didn’t mean nearly as much to you as he did.

you could tell him anything. do anything. there was no judgment, just absolute enjoyment. that’s the way it always went and it was why you knew whenever vacation rolled around for the two of you, it would always be the best time as long as you were with him. he planned new things every day, always making an effort and this time he said it was a surprise. nothing new, but you couldn’t help but be anxious at what he had planned.

so when he had picked you up from your house, several doors down from his own and drove to the outskirts of town, you knew something was up. he had parked at the entrance of a restricted zone and told you to follow him through the clearly broken metal fence. you had no choice but to do as he said, especially when you were losing the day fast. yet it wasn't as bad as you presumed it to be, for he led you to an expanse of a field littered with various types of flowers and plants and a very tall hill that could be seen clearer as you walked forward.

he ran straight towards the hill without glancing back to see where you were, too excited for his own good.

“come on!” he exclaimed, calling your name in the process. he was in a hurry for who knows what reason, but that didn’t stop him from making sure you were doing just fine on your own.

when he turned his body around he saw you were struggling to make your way up the steep hill after running to catch up to him. you were huffing and puffing every so often. your legs felt like jelly and you were not even halfway to your destination. it just proved how out of shape you were, well partially at least. why he decided it was a good idea to come here at nearly seven at night when the heat felt worse than it did during the day was beyond you, but it was one of the things you admire about him—your best friend since day one. he was always filled with unpredictable and undeniable fun, making your days brighter with just a grin along with his contagious laughter. you were grateful for him and his sense of adventure, but not right now when you felt you were going to collapse any second.

he rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath some phrase in mandarin before carefully going down the hill to where you suddenly stopped. one wrong move and he would tumble down the dewy grass so he had to be cautious. one of you had to make it out of this alive and you were hoping it was him considering you needed the most help.

he finally reached you after some delicate movements, where you stood relatively close to the start of the hill.

he chortled at you and your exasperated expression, one with your lips pursed together and your eyebrows furrowed. your skin was flushed from the heat and he could see some beads of sweat glistening on the top of your forehead as well as on your temples, just waiting to fall.

you weren’t kidding from being out of shape but it was mostly the humid heat emitting from the sun that was the cause.

he clicked his tongue and shook his head then proceeded to latch his hand onto your wrist to tug you up the hill since you clearly couldn’t do it yourself.

“you can never do anything without me huh?” he questioned with a quirk of his brow.

you sheepishly smiled at him and mumbled in reply, “possibly but don’t let it get to your head.”

his piercing laughter rang in your ears a second time and he trotted forward without responding, though you knew your statement added to his ever-inflating ego.

after several long minutes and repetitive stops because let us be real he had more energy than you, more strength in his legs, you had made it to the top of the hill that overlooked the cityscape of your small town nestled in between the mountains. the scenery was beyond beautiful leaving you starstruck for you never quite saw it in this light, literally. the sun was beginning to set beyond the horizon, the warm colors starting to fade into the darkness of the night. some lights of the homes in the distance were sparkling and the usual sound of cars was drowned out by nature’s bliss. a breeze could be felt that cools you down in moments, brushing against your face and his own, his hair ruffling ever so slightly.

but it wasn’t only the scenery, it was also him and what laid before you. you had guessed he had come upon the flowery hill before he had come to your house to pick you up. for the picture mimicked one you would only see in movies. a red and white checked blanket was laid on top of the dark green grass without any wrinkles in sight and was held down by a huge brown wicker picnic basket. additionally, juxtaposition to the basket, was one of your favorite novels of all time, little women by louisa may alcott, with a bouquet laying on top. you could make out some small white daisies in the bouquet, your favorite flowers something only he would know.

everything just appeared to be perfect.

his hand had dropped from your wrist as he took steps forward to sit on the blanket, leaving you to admire everything in front of you.

your eyes were wide and filled with shock, but you managed to let a soft smile slip onto your face as you focused on him.

zhong chenle amazed you. he always did.

he tilted his head, waiting to see your next move, and then patted the spot next to him, silently asking you to join him.

you shook your head to get out of your trance and strode forward, sitting down criss-cross applesauce right next to the boy in question.

“chenle...” you spoke. “what is all this?” you let out a little guffaw, a teasing tone dripping from your words. “did you do this all for me?”

he gave you a deadpan look and you had to hold back the giggles from escaping your mouth. “don’t think too highly of yourself now.” he reached over to lightly push you to the side, the laughter bubbling up from your throat.

“but in all due seriousness, it’s a picnic can’t you see?” he put his arms in front of him and made a grand gesture towards everything before you.

your cackles halted to a stop and you huffed in response, rolling your eyes at his remark. trust him to be smart with his retorts, always trying to be one step ahead while ruining the zest in the process. silence encompassed you both as you just stared at each other, but then a beam broke out on his face, his eyes transforming into little crescents. he let out a small cough to clear the air as it was now your turn to give him a deadpan stare, but it was hard when his next words warmed your heart.

“anyways...while we are having a picnic that i obviously did for you, it isn’t for no reason. do you remember that time we were just absentmindedly discussing our crushes or something like that? it was a while ago, so i am not sure if you remember, but i do.” his hand was twiddling with a piece of grass as he had twisted away from you, refusing to make eye contact. “you told me this idea you had for a perfect date. one where your partner would prepare a picnic for the two of you, specifically with a home-cooked meal and the two of you would watch the sunset while having a view of the town. you said it was basically the dream date and the person that would do this for you would have your heart.” he let out a taunting snicker and finally raised his head to gaze at you again. “imagine that, but since you clearly haven’t had a date in forever, i thought why not?”

you were about to punch his shoulder from his not so kind jab at your love life, but he jerked away just in time before continuing. “might as well put my clearly romantic side to good use. as you can see i clearly did a fantastic job if i do say so myself. i think i got the whole lovey-dovey thing down.”

you hummed in acknowledgment though you weren’t going to give him the benefit of the doubt, well not entirely at least. “sure you do,” you let out a scoff. “but lovey-dovey? buddy, need i remind you we are friends?” you furrowed your eyebrows and glanced at him weirdly, though you were being lighthearted rather than serious.

he nervously chuckled and cleared his throat, afraid you caught onto something, but he knew it was all in good mirth. however, that didn’t calm his beating heart.

his nerves were still haywire, yet he managed to place his right palm over his chest, near his heart. “did you…” he took a sharp inhale of breath. “just friend zone me?”

you hit his chest playfully. “shut up. you’re so annoying sometimes, lele.”

he gave you a toothy grin, bumping his shoulder with your own. “it is my job after all.”

another roll of the eyes. “unfortunately, but i really can’t believe you remember what i told you about my idea for a perfect date. it seems so long ago…” you trailed off, lifting your eyes to admire your town, the faint glow of the sunlight reflecting across your face.

“i always remember things involving you.”

your heart stopped in your chest at his bluntness, the evident embarrassment coursing through your veins. sometimes it astonished you how chenle never had a filter, always speaking his mind, yet with it came the fact that he sometimes did not know what he truly said. right now was one of those countless times, albeit you knew he meant declaration, especially when it came to one of his closest friends.

you could hear the shuffling besides you. chenle was obviously trying to set everything up by opening up the basket and taking out all the goodies he had prepared for this “romantic date.”

you whipped your head around to see what he was doing with making so much noise. at that moment he had managed to take out two perfectly plastic wrapped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, placing them on two paper plates he had taken out seconds before. his hand reached in the basket once more and he took out two apple juice boxes, putting them right near the sandwiches.

your titters rang loud, startling chenle in the process as his head abruptly jerked up.

you brought your hands up to your mouth to try to stop the chuckles from coming out, the sound becoming muffled. he raised his eyebrows at you, trying to figure out what was so funny. instances went by before you had finally become quiet and dropped your hands in your lap.

“chenle you can’t be serious. what is this? an elementary school meal?” you threw your head back, placing your hands flat on the checkered blanket to keep your composure.

“hey! elementary meals were good. don’t slander them.”

you brought your head forward, raising your hands up in the air for defense. “okay, okay.” your beam was wide viewing his clearly offended expression. “though i know you can cook so it came as a surprise. i am just a bit confused is all.”

he sighed loudly, leaning back on his arms. “yes i can, but i was on a time constraint so i couldn’t hone in on my cooking skills today, okay? sorry to disappoint. though if you think about it this is technically home-made.”

“you’re not wrong, but hey i will take what i can get.”

“thank you for your generosity.” he let out a scoff then reached to the side of the basket and picked up your favorite book, thrusting it into your hands. “now here, i couldn’t forget to bring it.”

you ran your fingertips across the cover, turning it over in your hands to admire every inch of the novel even if you had seen it a thousands times before.

he poked your shoulder blade to capture your attention amongst your state of admiration. he held out the bouquet of flowers you speculated he had picked from the flowery field surrounding the hill and you put the novel to the side, taking the flowers from him.

“wow i guess i can’t deny you are a little bit romantic,” you jeered at him.

he whirled his head away, the tips of his ears growing slightly red. “now shut up and let’s watch the sunset...please.”

you let out a long breath. “fine, but don’t forget we have to eat too.”

he rolled his eyes, handing you the plate with the peanut butter and jelly sandwich along with the apple juice, which you gladly took from him after placing the bouquet down. “obviously.”

so that is how you spent the rest of the evening, like the perfect date you had in mind years ago―watching the sunset and eating a homemade meal even if it was something straight out of the elementary school cafeteria, while sitting atop a hill that encompassed the whole town.

when the light of day finally faded away, you cuddled close to your best friend, seeking some sort of contact even if the coolness of the night was rarely felt.

he didn’t even think twice before putting his arm around you, tugging you a little bit closer to him. when he did so you placed your head on his shoulder, rotating away from the now dark sky to peer up at him with puppy dog eyes.

you spoke so gently that if anyone managed to pass by the two of you right then, they wouldn’t be able to hear you from the barely evident sound.

“hey lele?” you question.

he hums in return, still observing the twinkling lights of the town and stars.

“thank you for today. i enjoyed our little friend date, definitely was like i imagined it to be.” you released a small giggle. “a perfect date indeed so thank you for doing this for me.”

he turns his head down to glimpse at you once you finish talking, his gaze filled with fondness. he then shifted slightly and placed a kiss on the top of your head, murmuring his next words.

“you’re welcome.” you could hear the smile in his voice.

you looked straight forward, no longer locking eyes with him and whispered into the night,“i love you.”

his melodic laughter filled your ears. “yes i know.” he paused, murmuring right back. “but i love you too.”

you held out your pinky finger, raising it slightly so he could clearly see it among the increasing blackness.

“always and forever?” you asked.

he hooked his pinky with yours.

“always and forever.”

84 notes · View notes

honeyandhondewberries · 4 years

Note

A fic idea for u.... Leon’s got a bit of a wee crush on you, a trainer at Wyndon stadium. One night he uses the group showers at the gym, only for YOU to also be there even tho it’s late. And he’s a dumb himbo and trying not to ogle you and show u how embarrassed and tense he is as you full on get naked and shower with him and try to talk to him all casually . Hoo hoo!

oohoooo steamy yes our good friend tension. Some Spice in the midst of the Sugar. This lil fic isn’t explicit (& still follows my Rules of no NSFW), but i’ll give it an unofficial T+ rating since the imagery is more vivid than some may be comfortable with. If you don’t like reading about non-explicit bein nekked/suggestive themes/or being the focus of some champion fantasies, don’t read past the line :)

Part 2: A Few Degrees Hotter

Steam (LeonxReader)

You.

Wet. Dripping. Panting.

Your eyes, your smile, your body.

Here with him.

What if you were?

He could trail his hands down your body, press you against the shower tiles, corner you between the wall and the translucent partition, then he could kiss and nip and suck everything about you.

All the while wet, dripping, panting.

What if you whispered his name?

What if he kissed you, soft and slow, what if you trembled at his touch? What if he could feel your lips, pressed against his, between his, feel your breath on his skin. He could start at your lips, then trail down. He could drag his lips down your neck, your throat, your collarbone, bare like that. What if you raised your hands over his shoulders, what if he trailed his fingers down your sides? What if he made you shiver, even with the hot water of the showerhead running over you?

Leon slams his knee into a bench, then jolts himself out of his fantasy with a hiss.

Immediately his face flares red with shame at how easily those lewd thoughts of you took over his mind. In a place as public as the public Wyndon Stadium showers… That was not a good risk to take. He tosses his gym bag onto the bench, then his hat, and he runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. He takes a quick glance around.

There’s no one here, and it’s so after hours that even the cleaning crew has gone home.

…It’s late. And he’s alone. Maybe he could just…

No. No. Not in a public shower, at his job no less, what if someone came in?

He thought he was getting better at this, of shoving away those thoughts of you.

And you didn’t even know.

It took a lot for him crush on someone, and yet you waltzed right in like it was your job to make him a stuttering mess. And how you would tease him. No one else had the gall besides his close friends, and yet, you seemed to get away with it every time. Leon was usually quick with banter himself, but the second he met you, you immediately one-upped him, then one-thousand-upped him, and successfully ran him over with your wit and your charm.

Leon sighed, peeled off his sweaty shirt that clung to his body and flung it onto the bench. Maybe a shower would help clear his mind, though his mind seemed awfully fond of the idea of showering with you.

Alright, maybe he could think about Pokemon or something, consider tactics for his training match tomorrow.

You were training earlier.

You had that fire in your eyes, that wild and unabashed smile, that passion that oozed from every pore. He vividly remembers how your chest rose with each breath, how your pupils dilated with adrenaline, how you rushed up to him after your battle to immediately get his advice. Leon shakes his head to the present again.

Stop stop stop stop Leon, think about something else. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth.

Yeesh.

He doesn’t even talk with you that often, maybe a couple times a week when your schedules align at the gym. He always makes a beeline right to you, only to make it there and realize he has nothing to say. You always say something though, something clever, and he usually laughs and usually thinks of something in return (never as quickly as he would want, though). He always hovers on the edge of caution in his words, though, so he’s sure you don’t know about his little crush on you.

Leon gathers his towel, soap, and shampoo, and heads to the showerhead at the end. Normally he has his private shower and dressing room, but that exhibition match with Raihan left it in dire need of maintenance (along with a few other rooms in Wyndon Stadium), so here he was, using the public ones. It’s late enough, though, so hopefully no one comes in. His staff isn’t starstruck like most fans, but the last thing he wants is an awkward conversation in the gym showers so late at night.

Leon grimaces when he steps into the shower stall. It’s not even a stall, but rather a group shower with flimsy, translucent partitions between showerheads. The partition barely goes up to his shoulders, and only down to his knees. He wonders who he can talk to about the sheer lack of privacy these things provide - really it’s almost a joke, like a smug wink to whoever gets to be on the other side. He reaches his hand over it, waves, and can easily count all of his fingers, though they’re blurry.

He doesn’t give the partitions much thought beyond that, as the shower knob creaks when he turns the water on. It splutters, then runs over him in a steady stream, trailing down his face, neck, chest, all the while collecting the bits of sweat, grime, and dirt from his intense training. Leon lets the water run over him for a few minutes as the steam swirls in his lungs, cleansing him from the inside out. He vaguely wonders what you’re up to at this hour. Probably sleeping.

There’s a rustle, the clang of a locker, and Leon groans inwardly. This is exactly what he didn’t want to happen: forced small talk while being butt-naked. Bathroom etiquette suggests that he doesn’t even make eye-contact, so hopefully whoever just came in follows those unspoken rules too.

“Hey, Leon!”

Leon’s eyes snap open and his blood goes cold.

Oh.

Oh no.

Please.

“Training late tonight too, huh?”

Dear Arceus, please, let this be a dream. Or maybe he’s dead, that’d be even better.

The seconds tick by, but the rustling of clothes doesn’t stop. When he accepts that those sounds aren’t in his imagination, he slowly turns his head.

And his stomach drops, because there you are, sweating, smiling, shining, and you give him a wave.

“I didn’t think anyone else would be in here,” you say. Leon forces a smile.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. He coughs, then clears his throat. “Yeah me either.”

And then, you ask exactly what he wishes you wouldn't ask.

“Mind if I join you?” you ask with a good-natured smile.

Flashes of his fantasies erupt in his brain.

You, asking that same question.

You, biting your lip seductively.

You, trailing your fingers up his stomach.

You, looking him in the eyes with your own hooded and hungry gaze.

Leon lets out a squeak.

“S-sure,” he says as he clears his throat to ensure his voice sounds much manlier than squeaking. “Group showers, couldn’t deny that even if I wanted to.”

“Would you want to?” you tease.

Leon swallows another squeak, and instead lets out a breathy laugh. There you go again, with your relentless teasing. How is he supposed to answer? Yes? No? Maybe? What would be charming and make him look like not a huge pervert? He’s faltering in a response, but you don’t seem to mind. The second he finds one, he looks back over to you, only to choke on his spit.

You’ve already pulled off your pants and folded them on the bench and are in the process of pulling your shirt up over your head. Leon’s eyes zigzag over your frame, unconsciously drinking in every inch of you as quickly as he can. Heat pools deep in his stomach, because you look just like he fantasized you would.

This is getting dangerous.

You finally pull your head out from your shirt and toss it on top of your pants. Leon whips his head back to the shower wall, and squeezes his eyes closed as if to squeeze out that image of you. It’s already ingrained behind his eyelids though, properly stored in his brain so he can access it too easily.

He hears more rustle of cloth, but he doesn’t dare look over again. You’re probably wearing nothing, your skin is probably glowing in the soft yellow light of the mirror lamps, and Leon suddenly wishes he had turned on all the lights when he came in instead of just the moody dim ones. Your bare feet pat against the tiled floor, and Leon holds his breath.

Please stay at the other end.

You pass the end showerhead.

Please stay at the showerhead second to the end.

You pass the showerhead second to the end.

Please stay in the third to the end.

You pass the third to the end, and Leon’s heart is beating in his ears the closer you step.

He squeezes his eyes closed again, though his fantasies push into his mind.

You, stepping in behind him.

You, curving your hands around his hips.

You, pressing yourself against his back.

You, kissing his neck, his shoulders, down his spine.

Leon lets out a shaky breath.

“You okay?” you ask, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. Your voice is close, much too close, and Leon dares to peek as to which shower stall you picked.

Really, he shouldn’t be surprised when he sees you’ve picked the one right next to his.

“Yeah,” Leon says. “Just had a long day of training.”

“Same,” you say as you turn on your own shower. You seem to notice his tension as you set your toiletries on the ground. “Don’t take it personally that I’m right next to you, this is the best shower. The temperature and the water pressure is perfect. If you were in this one I’d probably kick you out.”

Leon lets out another breathy laugh.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want that,” he says as he looks everywhere that isn’t you.

“Or I’d ask to share,” you say with a lighthearted chuckle.

Leon’s heart pounds.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want that either,” Leon says. His voice is too quiet to be teasing, and in his periphery he sees you furrow your brow.

“I’m wounded,” you say. “I think I’d make a great shower partner. I’d get all the spots on your back that you can’t reach.”

“I can reach all the spots,” Leon says stupidly, even though he can’t.

You switch subjects and start talking about your training, and Leon tries his best to listen. He needs to get his shampoo, but it’s sitting on the floor. Could he just… lean down and grab it? Would that be weird? But then he’d be nose to nose with that translucent partition, and effectively, nose to nose with your blurry and bare figure. He closes his eyes, pats around the ground, finds his shampoo, and stands straight again.

“Oh, can I borrow some of that?” you ask. “I left my shampoo in my other bag.”

Leon turns before he can think when you hold your hand out. He gets a glimpse of your smile, of your hair, wet and dripping, of your cheeks flushed from the steam.

What if your face was flushed from something else?

He slaps that thought away, squeezes some shampoo into your open palm, and turns back to the wall.

Does he even need to shower? Maybe he could just dry off and shower at home and not risk you finding out about his crush in an embarrassing and non-gentlemanly way. He needs to calm down, because the heat that’s pooling in his stomach is getting needier and needier as seconds pass.

“Leon?” you say, and Leon jolts into focus again.

“Huh?” he grunts. “Sorry, what? I was… spacing out.”

“Yeah I can tell,” you say. “I asked why you’re in here and not in your own shower.”

“Oh, mine’s getting fixed,” Leon answers, and when you close your eyes as the water gently hits your face, Leon can’t stop himself from peeking.

There’s your frame, bare and blurry, behind the translucent partition. What if he stepped around it? Or better yet, what if it wasn’t there? What if he could step to you, press his thumbs into your hips, pull you into his chest?

He shakes his head into focus again. Yep, he can shower at his house, maybe take care of this tension at his house too. Leon rinses the shampoo out, rinses himself off, collects his things, ties his towel around his hips, and walks past you as quickly as he can, forcing his eyes forward the entire time. He barely makes it to his bag before he hears your voice again.

“Leon?” you ask.

It’s quiet, much softer than what’s normal for you. He glances to you, brow furrowed at the hesitation in your voice. He can only see above your shoulders and below your knees, and you're backed far enough away from the partition so he can only catch the foggy color of your skin.

“Do you not like me?” you ask. “Did I do something to upset you?”

“What?” Leon breathes. “What makes you say that?”

The only sound is the echo of the water hitting the tiles beneath you when you bite your lip.

“Whenever I talk to you, you barely respond,” you confess. “And I just… I feel like you’re really uncomfortable around me. I want to know what I did so I can properly apologize.”

What you did? How about who you are? Charming and captivating and attractive, always knowing what to say to get him to blush.

“You didn’t do anything, promise,” Leon says quickly. “It’s me. I’m always awkward when I’ve got feelings for someone.”

Your eyebrows raise, and so do his.

Oh.

Oh no.

Because there is that sly smirk, slowly inching onto your face.

“Feelings?” you repeat smugly, and you step forward and rest your chin on your fist and your elbow on the partition. “Little ol’ me? What kind of feelings?”

“W-well,” Leon stutters. “Y’know, like, platonically. A-as a friend, co-worker, u-um, a comrade.”

“Hm,” you hum, and you take a step towards the partition. Your figure is a little less fuzzy the closer you step. Dangerously less fuzzy. “Platonically?”

“Yep,” Leon squeaks as his eyes flick to yours, then to your blurry outline. You catch his slip when he stares for a second, and he meets your eyes, and abruptly turns. “I-I’m going to shower at my house.”

“Why?” you ask. “You don’t want to shower with me?”

His eyes widen again when he realizes what he revealed to you. His face is flaring red.

“The… the water is cold here,” he stutters. Leon steps around the shower wall to pull on his pants and pull on his shirt out of view of you and your blurry figure. He gets tangled, thanks to his damp skin, and he can hear your laugh echo in the room.

“I told you this one is perfect,” you say. “There’s plenty of room for you too.”

“A-and I need to feed my… my oven, since I left it on,” Leon blurts as he collects his things as fast as he can. “See you tomorrow!”

“It’s a date!” you call, and your words echo around in the showers, then down the hall as Leon rushes out.

Your words follow him, and that image of you and those fantasies stay unfortunately prominent in his mind, even when he gets home.

Especially when he gets home.

94 notes · View notes