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fuwushiguro · 2 years

Text

Can We Have Two First Times?

𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Yuuji Itadori x f!Reader x Megumi Fushiguro

Genre: Smut Notes: They're so cute 'n needy :( Warnings: 18+, consensual encounter, virginity loss, vaginal penetration, cherry chaser reader, university AU, praise, messy kissing, clit rubbing, nipple play, sub!Megumi + sub!Yuuji (maybe idk), cuddling. Words: 1.5k

There’s something so appealing and pathetic to you about virgins. Especially boys. You could smell the purity and insecurity on Fushiguro and Itadori from miles away. You sit in front of them in class and hear what they talk about. Admittedly, Yuuji is more vulgar than Megumi. Bragging about certain girls up-skirts and camel toes he spots through the day. At most, Megumi will shrug him off but at least admit they’re pretty girls. You’d think they’d be smart enough not to talk about you, given your close proximity. And yet, Yuuji takes the bait as you sit in front of them with tight jeans and an exposing thong. It’s too much for them both. You tease them, leaning back to ask to borrow a pencil. Their faces turn bright red as they try and conceal their arousal rushing to their aching cocks.

You can’t resist them for another second.

You corner the two of them at the end of class, much to the surprise of both of them. Their expressions are almost intoxicating enough to get drunk off when you call them out for staring at your ass. Megumi was the most enjoyable to toy with, of course. You back your body up against his in a secluded corridor in the building. His rock-hard erection bulges through his jeans and prods between your ass cheeks. You think he might cum in his pants if you don’t slow down.

It only becomes worse as you pull Yuuji towards you and sandwich yourself between them. You take Megumi’s hand in yours and bring it forwards to settle on your breast. His breath feels warm on your neck as he sighs out a moan. He is so reluctant to take to opportunity you are handing him on a plate, and you didn’t have a chance to encourage him.

Yuuji isn’t about to waste his chance with you. He attached his messy lips to yours and you can’t believe how dominant it is. Drool dribbles from your lips as one tongue slides against the other. He reaches up to grasp your other breast, mumbling his gratitude against your lips. Especially since you had opted not to wear a bra. He pinches and tweaks your nipple as if it had been rehearsed in his mind since the moment he was born.

“Fushiguro, touch her properly.” Yuuji demands. He’s still reluctant to violate you, but can’t resist for another minute. He copies his friend in toying with your nipple, dick twitching in his pants as he cops a feel for the first time in his life.

“Guys,” you whisper. They can’t stop themselves now, desperate to have you right here right now in each and every way they possibly can. “Guys, not now.” you tell them. Though it falls on deaf ears yet again. You shove Yuuji away from you and move away from Megumi.

“Fuck…” Megumi mutters, clearing his throat and attempting to compose himself and reassess the situation. “Did we, uh, do something?” he asks. “Something wrong, I mean?” he continues.

“No, nothing.” you tell them both, smiling with your tongue poking out mischievously. “Text me and I’ll send you my address. I want you both to swing by my dorm room later.” you inform them as you write your number down on a little scrap of paper and hand it to the pink-haired boy.

“Your dorm? Is it so… we can…”

“Fuck? Yes. I want you both really bad, if that’s something you’d be interested in. I’d love to see you both later and take care of you guys. Or you can try and take care of me.” you joke, smirking a little at your own comment. You wave them goodbye and don’t give them a chance to answer you. You know they’ll be coming later.

The way they talk about girls, there is no way they’d waste a chance to lose their virginities.

“Ohhhhh fuck baby, jus’ like that.” Yuuji moans as you ride him. Megumi is playing with himself on the edge of the bed while your cries of pleasure are practically shaking the walls. God damn he’s big. And real thick like a fucking coke can. Each vein of his throbbing cock perfectly massages your gummy walls.

“D-Don’t cum, Megumi!” you warn him as you look over to see him furiously pumping his cock in his hand. “Wanna fuck you next, so please don’t cum.”

He stops palming himself and instead stands on his knees and cups your face in both of his hands. His lips are so soft but the kiss is so rough. It’s heated, because he’s desperate. All he can think about is feeling your pussy wrapped around him. He’s dying for Yuuji to hurry up and cum inside of you so he can have you take his cherry away, too.

“F-Fuck, Yuuji. ‘m not gonna l-last!” you warn him.

“T-Then don’t. Cum for me, rub your clit baby. Wanna see your pretty little cum face.” he explains. Your chest is heaving as you cream all over his shaft. Your walls clamping around him bring him right along with you to a crushing, erotic demise. His heavy cock spurting glob and glob of white seed into your clenching cunt. “God, thank you. Thank you so much.” you bend over to kiss him, his overstimulated moans are so sweet in your mouth.

“You’re welcome Yuuji. It’s Megumi’s turn now, okay?” you tell him.

He nods, agreeing, giving you one last kiss before he moves away from you. You force Megumi onto his back and kiss his neck and down his abdomen just for the sick thrill of watching his cock twitch.

“D’ya want me to sit on it, Megumi?” you ask him. He nods, sheepishly, despite how agonising it is as each second passes. “I think you can do a little better than that. Or do you wanna be a virgin forever?” you continue.

“N-No, I don’t. Please, fuck me. Sit on it,” he begs. You nod, agreeing. “I really want you to, ah- shiiiiit.” he groans as you sink your pussy down on his long cock. You begin to ride him, surprised as Yuuji pulls your back against his chest. Your ass cheek becoming smeared in his cum and your juices. Megumi managed to slip inside of you no problem thanks to Yuuji’s load providing the perfect lubricant for him. Yuuji’s hands are on your tits, kissing your neck and encouraging you to ride his friend just how you’d rode him.

“Gonna cum on his cock too, aren’t you babe? He deserves it, I think. Been so patient waitin’ for us to finish so he can have a turn. You need to show ‘im a good time, gorgeous.”

“I- I will. Want you to- t’cum Megumi. Wanna feel it, please.”

“S-Stop that. I wanna last longer but I won’t if you keep begging me. L-Like that.” he implores you. His face is positively flushed the brightest pink you’ve ever seen. His face is sweaty and his dark locks are sticking to his forehead. You know he’s not going to last because he’s been edging himself for so long.

“Touch her tits, Fushiguro.” Yuuji instructs, but Megumi shakes his head.

“No, I can’t. I’ll finish if I feel ‘em, I can’t.” he explains.

Yuuji picks up the slack, touching your nipples perfectly. He’s a fast learner. Picking up the intensity and pinch pattern on the hardened buds. One hand strays to rub your clit again. He never expected pussy to feel like this. Your clit is so soft and sweet and God he can’t believe the sounds you make when he touches it. It’s better than when you touch yourself. You wonder if he’d been lying about being inexperienced with girls this whole time.

He's a natural.

“FUCK,” Megumi grunts, “so fuckin’ tight.” he speaks. He drives his hips up to meet yours. Your breath stutters with each thrust as he pounds against your cervix with his enormous cock. Yuuji’s cock is hard again, leaking like a faucet all over your rear. “’m cumming, fuck! ‘m sorry…”

“’m cumming t-too! Fuck, Megumi! I—”

The three of you all moan together. Despite Yuuji not orgasming, he feels connected to you both in a way he’d never have dreamed this morning. It’s sympathetic, you think, his heavy breaths and fluttering eyelids as you experience your second high of the evening.

You’ve never felt so good. Even for a cherry chaser, you’ve certainly outdone yourself this time. Two virgins in one? It’s like you’ve hit the jackpot. You might find it hard to let these two go. Even with your cunt leaking both of their pearly, white cum, they hold you between them like you’re precious. A sweet, delicate flower. You think you might fall asleep like this. It’s so intimate. The three of you laying on your bed with not a single article of clothing on any of your bodies.

They might not be virgins anymore.

But at the very least they’ll make a good booty call.

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cazimagines · 3 years

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Perfectly exasperating

Synopsis: You really disliked Zemo, but one person you disliked more? John Walker. After bonding over how you disliked him with Zemo, you have the unfortunate situation of running into John. He flirts, insults, and hurts you and Zemo is ready to put him in his place.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings/Tags: Use of swear words, John Walker being a dick, soft Zemo, protective Zemo

Author’s note: I was not intending this fic to come out as long as it did. This was one of the ones I had been putting off to write other stuff till I finally pulled myself around to writing it and ended up getting really into it. Funny how that happens.

Masterlist

Sequel

Part 3

Part 4

“Would you care for a Turkish delight?”

You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance, refusing to even look at him. Instead of forcing your eyes to focus on a spot in front of you, not moving them in the slightest. Zemo waited for a few moments before sighing and turning away from you.

“You’ll eventually have to talk to me, y/n” he exclaims as he walks over to the kitchen side of the room. You were sitting in the safe house Zemo had provided. There wasn’t much to do, just sit and wait till the funeral started. Zemo sought to communicate to you to keep you two occupied, but you didn’t want to talk with him, so you didn’t. You just sat on the settee, staring at the sofa opposite you while Zemo walked around looking through the cupboards for food.

You were pissed when Bucky revealed he broke Zemo out of prison.

The avengers had been your family. Whenever you needed them Steve would be there to offer you advice, Tony there to make you laugh. Nat there to beat up whoever required it. Everything was wonderful in your life. For once. And he had ruined it.

He caused the family you loved to split, hate each other, and that left you alone. So alone. Losing both Tony and Steve made you more mad at Zemo. He robbed the last years you could have spent with them, so yeah, no wonder you refused to talk to him.

He loved to annoy you, though. Any moment he got he was beside you, creating sarcastic remarks about what was happening, trying to joke around with you. Trying anything to communicate with you. The worst of it was when he insisted you had to be his date on the mission in Mandripoor. Feeling his arm wrap around you, a kiss to your temple, the smell of his cologne flooding you, drawing you in. It pissed you off knowing how easily you fit into the role of his date. Yet you knew deep down why. Every time he made a snide remark, you had to bite your tongue to stop making one back. Every time he tried to joke with you, it took all your effort not to snort. You hated him and everything he does, yet you could sense a fondness growing for him, just a slight one, in the deepest corner of your heart. Left there to be locked away. Never acknowledged.

“So, the new Captain America, huh? What’s he like?” you hear Zemo ask, leaning on the counter of the kitchen table, his eyes burning into the side of your head.

You feel bile rise to your mouth as he spoke.

John Walker.

John fucking Walker.

If you hated Zemo, you despised John Walker. Just thinking of him brought a scowl to your lips. Steve meant everything to you. He was a father figure to you. He stood for all you believed in. He was your hope, your light in the darkness. And John Walker seemed to tarnish it. You wouldn’t have minded him if he was a different mascot for America. If he became America’s new hope. It was the fact that they called him Captain America. That he had the shield. The title belonged only to Steve. He claimed he wasn’t trying to replace Steve, but that is what he was doing. Him being called Captain America felt like a spit on Steve’s memory. People would forget him, everything he did for the country he loved. They would only focus on John Walker, and you detested that.

You didn’t blame Sam for giving away the shield, unlike Bucky. You could understand why he did it. That shield held such a responsibility, such a legacy it seemed impossible to ever live up to. No, you blamed the people who took the shield away from the museum. Without Sam’s permission. They should have asked Sam. But of course they didn’t care. They didn’t care at all.

“I see by your reaction that your impression of him isn’t a pleasant one,” Zemo says, bringing you out of your thoughts and back to reality.

“Have you met him?” he asks

You try to hold back your opinion, but John Walker made you so frustrated, you knew if you didn’t rant about him you would burst.

“Yes. He’s a dick,” you spit out

Zemo quickly straightens up, surprised you actually answered one of his questions.

“Oh? Are you finally speaking to me.” he inquires, walking around the kitchen counter towards you.

“Don’t push your luck” you mutter, side eyeing him as he sits down opposite you. Sam and Bucky were out leaving you alone with Zemo. At the moment you were all waiting till the funeral. Zemo claimed there were a few hours to kill before everyone had to gather. Sam and Bucky decided to check out the town, make sure they knew it well in case a situation occurred where we had to dash. They had forced you to babysit Zemo.

“No, no, I like to hear you talk. Please, if talking about how this new Captain America is a dick is how I get you to speak to me, then let’s continue.” Zemo says, pouring out a glass of whisky for you and him. He holds the glass out to you, an eyebrow raised. You sigh, grabbing the glass out of his hand and drank, feeling the warmth creep up your throat. Zemo chuckles as he watches you, leaning back on the sofa, his arms resting on top of it.

“My, my. The man must be terrible if just the thought of him is making you talk and accept drinks from me,”

“He’s so infuriating! He thinks because he is Captain America he can stick his nose in other people’s business!”

“Ah, so he is one of those people. Doesn’t understand boundaries. How rude,”

“And get this, he got annoyed at us! Telling us we should stay out of his way when he is the one getting in our bloody way!”

“No” Zemo fake gasps

“Yes!” you exclaim, going into a rant, “I can’t even bear to call him Captain America. He doesn’t deserve to be called that. His actual name is John Walker. He claimed he wasn’t trying to replace Steve, but that is exactly what he is doing! And how he talks to me as well. He’s so condescending, treating me as if I am a kid while trying to compliment me and act like he’s all that in front of me,”

Zemo’s eyes narrow and he places the glass down on the table between you two, “You mean he flirts with you?”

“If you could call that pathetic excuse flirting. I suppose. It pisses me off though,”

“I can imagine. He sounds nothing like what Steve was. Nothing like his legacy,”

It was your turn to narrow your eyes, watching Zemo curiously. “I assumed you hated Steve”

“I never hated him. No. I can admire what he stood for, I just find unrealistic. All superheroes are flawed. Innocents will consistently be collateral damage while superheroes are allowed to exist.”

You stare at Zemo, amazed. Not realising the silence you were making. You had always thought he hated Steve. It always seemed that way. Yet he didn’t? Knowing he didn’t hate the guy you always viewed as a father figure mattered to you. And you don’t know why.

Zemo stared back at you. He was studying your eyes, trying to figure out what you were thinking. He didn’t realise what he thought about Steve would have affected you, but it appears he was wrong.

“Don’t worry y/n we’re back and guess what! We found your fav-” Sam shouts, opening the doors of the room and strutting in but he pauses, noticing you and Zemo staring at each other from the sofa’s. “What’s going on here?”

Zemo is the one to pull out of the eye contact trance, smirking as he looks over at Sam, “We were just discussing John Walker.”

Bucky who had followed Sam in grounded at hearing Zemo utter that name. “Perhaps you two would like a drink and join us in considering how much of a dick he is?” Zemo asks, raising his glass to them.

A few hours later you walked down the street following Zemo to find his associate. You didn’t appreciate how secretive he was being, but you understood it. He had many people who wanted to get him, and the second he wasn’t useful to us. He would be doomed.

“It’s too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit” you hear a whiny voice shout. Peering up, you notice John Walker and his sidekick ‘Battlestar’ or whatever jogging down the steps towards you.

“Ah! How did you find us now” Bucky shouts with his arms raised, striding towards them.

“Come on. You really think three Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention,” his friend responds.

“No more keeping us in the dark,” John mutters angrily

Zemo, who you were walking besides, turns his head to you, “I understand what you mean by infuriating”

You chuckle as John looks angrily between you two, “You can start by telling us why you broke him out of prison,”

“He did that himself technically” Bucky replies, and Zemo grins at you, as if bragging about it.

“Aw, this better be an unbelievable explanation-” John Walker exclaims, reaching up to you.

“Hey take it easy before it gets weird,” Sam suggests, interrupting John.

“I know where Karli is,” Zemo reveals to John Walker, his seductive accent sticking out from the rest of them. He tries to walk past John. You, Bucky and Sam follow, but John stops him, placing a hand on his chest.

Zemo glares ahead, disgusted at John for even daring to touch him.

“Well, where” he says, getting into Zemo’s face

“All we know is, it’s a memorial so we are going to intercept her there,” Sam adds, trying to defuse the tension.

Zemo grabs John Walker’s hand and pushes it off him, striding forward again, and you jog to catch up with him.

“See why I call him a dick now,” you whisper

Zemo smirks, looking back at you, “Yes. He’s perfectly exasperating”

“What? No. Wait. No! No! Stop. Hold on. Stop. Okay?” John exclaims running forward and stopping you all in your tracks again after something Sam had said. “I think we are way past reasoning with her”

Zemo just stares ahead, fed up with John while you groan in annoyance. Not being able to even bring yourself to look at the man in front of you.

They argue for a few moments while you and Zemo stand idly to the side, Zemo glances at you rolling his eyes making you giggle. You smack his arm slightly trying to get him to stop making you laugh, but that only makes Zemo chuckle along with you. Eventually they calm John down but he glares over at Zemo, “We will deal with you later.”

“I’m sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion” Zemo says, gesturing with his hands. He walks ahead, searching for his associate while John Walker moves beside you. You try to pick up your pace, but he keeps up.

“So working with a criminal now. Not very avengery like. I thought Zemo hated Steve. I wonder what Steve would think of you working with him,” he mutters peering at you.

“Need I remind you-you are also working with him now,”

“Come on, darling, don’t be like that,” John responds grinning, placing his palm on your back.

“Get your hand off me” you growl scowling at him

“Most women would fawn over me” John cockily resorts, still not removing his hand

“She asked you to remove your hand” you hear Zemo state, glancing over you see he had stopped walking forward, turned around and was now glaring at John. “Do I need to remove it for you?” he says angrily.

John frowns at Zemo. Finally, taking his hand off you and striding up to Zemo. Zemo tilts his head, his jaw clenching in fury as he stares at John.

“You are nothing but a dirty criminal. Don’t think for a second you can talk to me like that,”

“I will when you are being rude and disrespectful towards a lady,”

John scoffs, peeking over to you, then back to Zemo. Everyone else was standing to the side, not sure if they should intervene or not.

“What did she suck you off or something?”

Chaos ensured.

Bucky and Sam had to leap forward to stop Zemo from launching onto John while Battlestar had to hold John back. “Too far man, too far” he muttered to John

Zemo was snarling at John, his teeth bared in rage. His hair had fallen loose from their usual position and was hanging down over his forehead, giving him a more wild look. The vein in his neck stood out, twitching. His eyes were raging with fire as he looked at John. He kept trying to push past Bucky and Sam to get to John, but eventually gave up knowing it was futile.

You were standing at the side, shocked that John would have the ego to say something like that and at Zemo’s rage towards John for saying it. John adjusts his head. Not looking you in the eyes, but looking in your direction. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t of said that”

Pulling your senses together, you walk up to John, glaring at him. “Yeah, you damn well shouldn’t have. You’re a dick. Nothing like Steve. You never will be,”

John wrinkles his nose in anger, frowning at your remark. You walk over to Zemo now that Bucky and Sam had let go of him. You give him a nod, showing your appreciation, and he nods back, though still glaring at John.

“Who I choose to associate myself with is none of your business. Who I choose to suck off is none of your business. Perhaps you can go fuck yourself and learn a bit of decency,” you spit at him.

A brilliant thought crosses your brain for another way to twist the dagger of your dislike into John. You reach out and grab onto Zemo’s hand, clasping it.

The action causes everyone to turn wide eyed to you. Including Zemo. He glances down at your hand in his then back to yours, surprise in his gaze but he immediately covers it up turning back to John smirking. He turns to behind himself, then back to the group.

“My associate is up ahead,”

You all turn to look forwards and see a little girl staring at you. Walking forward again, gripping his hand, Zemo nods to the girl as you all approach.

“Hello my friend,”

He holds out some money, a lot by the looking of it, and says to her, “This is for your family”

The girl hastily snatches it, obviously in need of it, and you can’t help but feel your heart warm a bit, seeing how kind Zemo was being to her.

“Can you show us the way?”

She beckons with her hands and walks forward. Zemo looks back at you, nodding to make sure you were okay, then follows her.

“What the hell” John murmurs from behind.

Following the girl, she leads you to a building. She turns, pointing inside a doorway, and runs inside not to be seen again.

“Karli’s in there,” Zemo tells the rest of the group. Sam replies and heads inside to talk to her while John suddenly grabs Zemo’s arm and yanks him against the machine on the wall.

Zemo moans as he is shoved into it, the hard outer piece hitting into his chest roughly.

“Hey. You’ve got ten minutes” John shouts to Sam as he takes out a pair of handcuffs and attaches them to Zemo.

“Really” Zemo mutters as John cuffs him to the machine.

“Then we are doing things my way,” John declares ignoring him

“Aggressive” Zemo jokes, though from his eyes you could still see the anger he harbors towards John.

He twists his head to watch John stride forward, staring at Sam, then back to him. “But I get it”

You wander over to stand by Zemo as you wait for Sam to talk to Karli.

“This day has brought a lot of changes. This morning you refused to say a single thing to me and now just moments ago you were holding my hand,” Zemo speaks quietly to you.

You shoot him a glare, “I did that to agitate John,”

“Sure, that was the only reason” but you knew from his eyes he didn’t believe you. They sparkled with amusement as he looked down at you.

“That cuff must bother you” you mention glancing over at them.

“I don’t mind. I quite enjoy cuffs, in the right setting of course,” he quips.

You turn on your side, looking at him, your lips curling into a smile. If we are going to play that game, you thought.

“Oh, what setting would that be?”

Zemo’s smile deepened, enjoying seeing you play along, “I’m sure you would like to know”

“Do you have to do this here!” John exclaims, glaring at the two of you. You quickly step back from Zemo, forgetting that you two had company. Your eyes snap to Bucky’s with worry, but he wasn’t looking at you. He glared at the ground, not seeming to care what was happening between you and Zemo.

After that Zemo tried to engage you in conversation again but you effectively ignored him, going back to how you were treating him earlier, which you knew was frustrating him.

John was looking down at the shield, then squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, panting. Both you and Zemo glanced up, watching him cautiously. You glanced at Zemo and he stared back, confirming you were both thinking the same thing about Walker.

He got up and started shuffling towards the doorway. Both you and Bucky eyed at each other for the first time with the same recognition in your eyes. You leave Zemo’s side to walk over to where John was.

“No, no, no. This is a bad idea,” John mutters as he paces around. Zemo watches him like a hawk while you and Bucky stand side by side, arms crossed.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Sit tight,” Bucky replies.

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me,” he spits back, pacing around.

“He knows what he is doing,” you reply

There’s silence for just a moment. You watch as John turns towards you and walks fast, hitting his fist against the shield, “I’m going in”

Bucky walks forward and places his hand on John, stopping him from moving further.

He tries to antagonise Bucky, trying to make him guilty for what could happen to Sam. And you could tell his words were influencing him.

“You will not be going in till ten minutes are up,” you state sauntering over to them

“Oh, so the whore has something to say,” John spits out

In the back, Zemo growls, tugging on the cuffs that connected him to the wall. You feel the outrage prick up on you as John’s remark.

“Don’t call her that” Bucky says, glaring at John

“She’s been openly flirting with the terrorist over there, so yeah, I think it’s appropriate to call her that,” John bites back

You rush forward, attempting to punch John in rage, but he was able to sidestep you and brings the shield up, connecting it harshly to the side of your head. Pain soars across your face as you fall down onto the ground. You groan, your eyesight going dark around the sides and black patches covering parts of what you could see.

“BASTARD” you hear someone shout with a beautiful accent. From the floor, you can’t make out much of what is going on. Someone with a metal arm attacking another guy. A man with a shield being attacked by a man in a trench coat. It was all too confusing for you. You just wanted to sleep.

You could feel yourself fading in and out. Your eyes begging to close. You could hear shouting. Someone talking.

Your head was raised. Someone was holding it in their hands. Your vision is blurry but as they get nearer your eyes could focus on them. Beautiful brown eyes, messy brown hair, cute thin lips. It was him.

“Y/n!?” Zemo shouted at you, “Y/n stay with me”

“My head hurts” you mutter to Zemo as he lifts you up, placing you against the wall. Slowly your eyesight came back, and you could see your surroundings. Only you and Zemo were left.

“Zemo, where is everyone?” you ask turning your head, but in doing so it makes you feel incredibly dizzy. You groan as Zemo places a hand on the side of your face to stop you moving.

“They went after the Sam,”

“I need to help them!”

“No, you need to stay here and recover,”

You look over at the wall then back to Zemo, “How did you get out of the cuffs?” you ask

“Ah well…” Zemo says and glances down at his hand, your eyes follow and widen seeing his hand, bruising covering it, his thumb sticking out at an odd angle.

“You broke your hand to get out!?”

“Well, I couldn’t let him get away with saying those things and hurting you,” Zemo mutters, smiling slightly but you could see the pain flickering in his eyes, “I gave him a well-deserved punch in the face”

You chuckle at the thought. Leaning forward, you kiss him lightly on his forehead, a gesture of you wanting to ease his pain. You move back just in time to see him looking at you, surprised, before your vision faded.

Taglist: @multiyfandomgirl40 @ineffablebean @freyjasamael @avgravy @huntheimpossible @checkurwindow @there-goes-thefighter @bunniwritesx @montypythonsholysnail @yallgotkik @wonderwoman292

#zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo x reader #zemo x y/n #zemo x you #i love zemo #tfawts #marvel #daniel brühl #sam wilson #mcu #john walker

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emmyhem · 3 years

Text

always (l.r.h)

a/n: hi everyone! this is a lil angsty piece i wanted to get up. i just want to say again how sorry i am for not getting anything up for the past two weeks, i’ve just been overwhelmed with some stuff for my classes, but i am starting to get back in the swing of things now. also, this is unedited as i was rushing to get it up in time. i do plan on posting something else tomorrow night and hopefully i’ll be posting pretty consistently from now on. also this does end kind of abruptly but i wanted to leave it like that because i’m a sucker for angst, with that being said i would be happy to write a part two if that’s something you’d be interested in. anyway, feedback and comments are appreciated as always and i hope you’re all having an amazing day/night. enjoy! - emmy <33

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: luke recounts his mistake and hopes he can patch things up with his always.

warnings: very brief mention of sex, cursing, mentions of alcohol, luke’s being an asshole, mention of pinching (idk), slight insecurity from the reader, lots of angst :(

word count: 2.6k

Luke had always hated the quiet. That’s when his thoughts were the loudest. That must be why he had never really liked being alone with himself.

Tonight in particular, his thoughts were practically screaming, one word over and over again.

“Y/n”

For the past two years that name had acted as his most favorite word, one that he would utter whenever he had gotten the chance. Whether it be to brag about your recent accomplishments to his friends, to catch your attention from another room, or falling from his lips with a sigh of pleasure as he reached completion with you laying breathlessly beneath him.

Now the word seemed torturous, the last time he uttered it replaying on a relentless loop in his head.

It was your 2nd anniversary. Dinner had been laid out on the table for an hour. Two glasses of wine sat untouched in front of a vase of roses you had picked out at the florist earlier that morning, and there was no sign of Luke.

You were wracking through your brain as you watched a petal fall from a rose and land lightly in one of the glasses.

Had you gotten the time wrong?

But you were sure that the two of you had agreed on 8:00 for dinner, that way you had time to get everything ready after getting home from work, and Luke wouldn’t have to rush to leave the studio.

Yet somehow you found yourself staring at the now cold dinner at 9:30, with absolutely no word from Luke. You wanted to call, if for no other reason than to check he was still alive and breathing, but your nerves stopped you from doing that, not wanting to take on the role of the overbearing girlfriend.

Your stomach growled hungrily over the light music that was playing through the house speakers. So, begrudgingly you took a bite of the pasta on your plate before downing your entire glass of wine.

Luke arrived home about 2 hours later, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. He caught sight of the table, with one setting completely untouched as he hung up his coat, causing guilt to pang in his chest.

“Baby,” he called out, carrying himself to your shared bedroom.

When no response came his heart rate sped up in fear that you had left.

“Y/n” he called, louder this time with a sense of urgency clear in his voice.

That’s when he spotted a person sized lump underneath the duvet. Releasing a sigh of relief he moved towards you, peeling the blankets off and leaving a soft kiss on your shoulder.

This caused you to stir a bit, eyes fluttering open to meet him.

“Hi, my love.” he cooed.

A frown was prominent on your face, and a crease separated your eyebrows as they furrowed angrily.

“I’m sorry I’m late. We got a bit carried away in the studio, but in good news the album is coming along great. M’so excited for you to hear it”

You had always tried to be understanding of Luke’s job for many reasons. One being that you both reaped the benefit of his success, you wanted for essentially nothing, had a nice house, the opportunity to travel, and Luke often spoiled you with gifts even if you asked him not to. Another being how happy it made your boyfriend. Music truly was his passion, and he was so talented that you wouldn’t want for him to ever put his work on the back burner for you.

With that being said, you made a point to take time off to spend time with him whenever you were able to. You had even changed jobs because your last one hadn’t allowed you to go on tour with him, which he had been adamant about, insisting, “There’s no way I can be away from you for that long.”

And you were happy to do all of those things, because you were in love, and you felt incredibly lucky to even be a part of his world. But you did start to question things as your relationship went on. It felt like Luke didn’t even consider your job. He only saw it as something that took you away from him.

You had worked hard to get where you were in the occupational field. Without your job all you would have to do is sit around and wait for Luke to be ready for you, and you just couldn’t live like that.

Luke turned on the lamp on your nightstand as you slowly sat up in bed.

“2 weeks Luke, we’ve had these plans for two weeks.”

“I know baby I tried, but you know how it is when inspiration strikes.” he dismissed while sitting the flowers on the ground.

“No, I don’t. Do you not think that I have things I could be doing for work? Cause I do, and I choose this over all of that.” you huffed in frustration.

Luke took a deep breath while subtly rolling his eyes.

“Y/n, I’m sorry for missing dinner, but you don’t understand the pressure I’m under, from the fans, the label, management, and the band.”

“I know that you work hard and I know how important this is to you, and I’m so proud of you, but I’m proud of us too and I would’ve liked to have a night for just us.” you tried to explain. “Not to mention the fact that I’m under pressure in my job too and I always find time for you, no matter what.”

“Yea, you have pressure from a job that you don’t need.” his voice rising in anger with each word as he paced around the room.

“How many times do I have to tell you Luke? It’s my job, it’s a part of my life and I don’t plan on giving it up anytime soon.” you shouted.

“Great.” he replied sarcastically. “Then you should understand that I won’t give up my job anytime soon.”

“I’m not asking you to, I’m just asking for a bit of consideration, and just a sliver of your time.”

“I’m working to make us more money.” he stated.

“Luke, we don’t need any more money. You should be working because you enjoy it and because it’s your passion.”

He let out a condescending laugh before turning to look in your eyes.

“Yea, well you don’t seem to mind all the money when you're sitting at home in the house that I bought, and leeching off of my bank account on the daily. D’ya think you could afford all the shit you have just based on your salary?” he spat crudely.

You physically leaned back as if the words had just actually been thrown at you. They must’ve, because the pain they caused felt far too real to just be emotional. You opened your mouth to fight back, to scream, to do something but the lump in your throat prevented anything to come out other than a sad, and pathetic squeak.

Was that what he thought about you?

This had caught you completely off guard. Sure, you were expecting an argument, you’d even say you were expecting a big one, but you would’ve never guessed he would throw this in your face.

You felt betrayed. It had always made you insecure that you were making such little money compared to your boyfriend.

Some days after receiving your paycheck you would go out and spend it all on Luke, solely because you wanted to know that you could contribute too. You would do that whenever you got the chance, to reassure that your work was important, and valid. And mainly to show Luke that you appreciated all he did for you.

He would always reply, “You don’t have to do this, love. I like spoiling my girl.”

Yeah right.

“I wasn’t, I m-mean I don’t try to lee-,” you paused, the word feeling too gross to repeat back.

“Well, you do whether you're trying or not so the least you can do is give me a break occasionally.” he spoke casually, while changing into sweats as if he wasn’t ripping you apart with every word.

You kept a blank stare at the bedroom door, your eyes already stinging with unshed tears. You wished you could be angrier but his words left you questioning and feeling guilty.

As hard as you’d tried to provide for yourself and make your own way you couldn’t help but wonder if you had subconsciously started leaning on him, more than you had ever wanted.

Luke continued getting ready for bed, not taking a second look at you since hitting you with his harsh words.

“I-I’m sorry.” you croaked.

“It’s fine, Y/n I just wish you could’ve been slightly more understanding.” he continued, still not facing you.

“I think that maybe, I mean, um I gotta go.” you were speaking through tears, as you abruptly stood from the bed and hurried to leave the room.

This caught Luke’s attention causing him to spin in your direction at lightning speed, finally taking in your emotional state.

“Going? Going where? I-what are you talking about?”

You didn’t reply, grabbing your keys, bag, and shoes as you continued to speed to the front door.

“Y/n!” he continued, following closely behind you.

You paused at the front door and turned to meet his eyes. His stressed appearance subsided as you allowed him the opportunity to talk.

“You’re upset.” he concluded, reaching a hand out to hold your cheek.

You leaned away from his touch and shook your head lightly, “M’not.”

His features softened and he took another step closer to you, “You are. I’m sorry, I was harsh.”

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know?”

“I don’t want t-to leech” you stuttered out.

This rendered Luke speechless, realizing how cruel his words had been. You had taken this as an opportunity to exit the house, quickly running to your car. Luke made it to the driveway just in time to see you drive away.

“Fuck” he snapped, jogging back towards the house to get his phone and call you in hopes of convincing you to come back.

After calling you at least 20 times with no response he conceded and decided he should try and get some sleep, that way he was rested enough to get you to forgive him in the morning.

His body fell naturally to his side of the bed, but his eyes lingered on where you typically laid.

Rolling onto his back, eyes finding the ceiling he muttered to himself, “I’m an idiot.”

Eventually he was tiring out, the bedroom ceiling growing extremely boring after staring for so long. He turned on his side to hug your pillow to his chest. As his hand slid under the pillow it came into contact with an envelope that had been hidden underneath.

He sat up and flicked on a lamp to read the front, “To my Lu”

He could tell that you had taken your time penciling on your words, each letter was flawless and written delicately. Before ripping it open he hesitated, questioning whether or not he even deserved to see what was inside after the way he spoke to you. The selfish part of his brain won for the second time that night.

The first thing he saw after opening was two airline tickets situated just in front of a folded piece of notebook paper.

He held his breath as he brought them into the light, two roundtrip business tickets to Sydney.

He rushed to read the note you had left with them, unfolding it quickly.

“Lu,

Happy two years, my love. I can’t believe I’ve been lucky enough to call you mine for this long. Not a day goes by where I’m not in complete and utter awe of you and everything you do for me. I know how hard you work and how much you miss home and your family while you continue to grow in your music, and in yourself everyday. I know these aren’t the best tickets you’ve ever had by any means or the most extravagant vacation you’ve taken, but I wanted to show you how much I love you and how much I know you deserve, and need a break. We have 2 weeks, we leave tomorrow. I’ve worked it all out with the guys and your label. I know this is just a small way to repay you for the way you’ve taken care of me and the way you’ve loved me so selflessly for so long but I hope it shows you just a sliver of how much I love you.

Yours always,

Y/n”

He traced the letters of your name repeatedly as he blinked back a few stinging tears, before falling asleep, the note clutched tightly to his chest.

That was a week, and about 100 missed calls ago.

About two days after you left, your friend had called to let him know that you were safe and staying with her for the time being. It had slightly lessened his worry, but the guilt he felt grew exponentially each day he had no reason to say your name.

He had claimed your side of the bed as his own in hopes that it would bring you closer to him. When he had finally dragged himself out of bed to shower he used your body wash and as embarrassing as it sounds nearly cried when the room was flooded with the familiar rose scented steam. And tonight while scouring through the liquor cabinet and feeling completely sorry for himself he had come across a bottle of tequila that you had purchased on your most recent vacation.

Luke had put a serious dent in it by the time he was done scrolling through all of his pictures of you, and his finger began to itch with the need to call you.

Through blurry and clouded eyes he located your contact, a breath hitching in his throat when he clicked the call button.

With each unanswered ring he pinched his wrist, willing himself to wake up and discover this was all just some horrible nightmare, that he would just roll over and see you curled up next to him, warm, and sweet, and perfect. So fucking perfect.

“You’ve reached y/n. Sorry I can’t get to the phone, leave a message and I’ll get back to you. Thanks”

But it’s not his nightmare that got him here, it’s his mistake.

“Y/n,” he croaked, his voice hoarse and scratchy as he hasn’t used it much in the past couple of days.

“I don’t know what to do anymore, I miss you and I’m sorry. I-” his heart was pounding and his intoxication numbed him from the feeling of the hot tears that streamed down his face as he continued. “M’selfish baby. I’m so selfish and I was talking out of my ass that night, of course you’re not leeching. That’s fucking ridiculous, you couldn’t be, I give you nothing compared to what you give me. I just don’t know how to admit I’m wrong and the money is bullshit, it doesn’t matter, we could both live without it.” his chest felt tight as he took a large gulp of air. “I-I can’t live without you, really I don’t think I can. I need you and I love you. I love you so much. Just please come home to me, please baby. I need you with me, and I want to fucking give you the world and I know you don’t need me to give it to you. I want to. I just-I want to give you everything, anything. You can have it all. It’s yours. I’m yours, alwa-” his pleads were cut off by the dial tone.

“Always.” he repeated, staring at the black screen.

pt. 2

506 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

Hi! If you're taking requests can I please request a fluffy piece of where Javi and his f!partner fell in love and Javi brings her home to Texas for the first time to meet his Dad. And at some point his Dad sees them being so cute and sweet with eachother and he's never seen Javi so happy before.

A/N: Enjoy some fluff and softness!

Pairing: Javi x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You’re nervous,” Javier’s tone was filled with amusement as he walked into the bedroom to find you in front of the mirror, holding up two different outfit options. The look on your face was nothing but pure distress as you realized that one outfit was too formal and the other was almost too informal. Sighing, you turned to him with a pout on your lips as held up the outfits, “Dulzura - what’s going on?”

“I’m not nervous!”

“I’ve known you for years, I know that look on your face,” he came over and took both hangers from your hands and tossed them on the bed. Large, warm hands found your face as he pulled you in for a gentle, saccharine kiss, “calma, mi alma.”

“I’m not nervous, Javier,” you scoffed indignantly as he quirked a brow in question, "I'm fucking terrified! I'm meeting your whole family today for the first time! How am I not supposed to be nervous?"

"It'll be fine-"

"At your cousin's wedding-"

"They're going to adore you-"

"They're meeting me - your fiance - for the first time. At a huge wedding. With your entire family there,” you huffed, feeling your churn at the mere thought of it all, “it’s a little scary, Javi. And I don’t want them to think I’m trying to take away attention from anybody. I don’t want to be that person.”

“You’ve taken down Escobar and Cali,” he laughed warmly before pulling you into his arms as you buried your face into his shoulder, “and you’re nervous about a wedding?”

“Much scarier,” it was a pathetic whimper in protest.

“They already know about you,” he reminded you gently, “it’s not like this is the first they’re hearing about you.”

“I know,” pulling back, you cast a dismal glance at the outfits that were unceremoniously dumped on your bed, “I just want them to like me. It’s your family, Javi, they’ll be my family too.”

“They’re going to love you,” he insisted with an air of finality before pressing a kiss to your forehead. You couldn’t help but grin at him; the two of you had been through so much together and apart, and you knew that you really could handle anything life through you at the two of you, but this seemed...different. Insurmountable.

Gone were the days of chasing after criminals and bad guys through the streets and jungles of Colombia and in were the days of quiet, domestic bliss. You’d already started building a home in Texas with him, and taken on the simple life you’d been dreaming of for some time. Nothing was going to take that away from you and get it still terrified you.

“I love you,” you whispered as he offered you the grin you had fallen in love with so long ago. His soft brown eyes crinkled in the corners as his single dimple made its appearance, “Javi.”

“I love you,” he promised, “come on, let’s finish getting ready and get this over with. I have a few plans for you tonight.”

“Mhmm,” you rested your hands on his broad chest before lightly pushing back, causing him to jokingly pout at you. As soon as you heard the world plans, something sparked within you and you immediately knew what you wanted to wear. Turning towards the closet, you offered him a cheeky wink before pulling out a lacy red dress. His eyes instantly widened at the sight of the dress; it had always been one of his favorites on you, “what do you think? Too much?”

“It’s perfect, Dulzra,” he had to work to hold back a groan as he pictured you in it, “you’re going to knock them dead.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Of course, Javier had been right. His family had taken to you like fish to water. Almost as if they could sense that they might overwhelm you all at once, they came over in small droves to introduce themselves and welcome you to their family. Honestly, you didn’t even have to say much as they were happy to do all the talking and Javier was more than happy to talk - brag - about you in detail and tell them everything about you. You were practically glowing from the praise, and found it easy and effortless to find your place within it all.

But the singular most important person was Chucho - Javier’s father. You hoped he would like you, hoped he would think you were good for his son, hoped he would know how much you loved Javier.

You were sitting at the table, eating some dessert and chatting with one of Javier’s cousins, Adrianna, when you heard a throat clear from behind you. Turning around, you found Chucho offering you a small smile and extended his hand to you.

“Do you have a moment, mija?” he asked softly as you nodded. Of course you weren’t about to turn him down. Your heart thumped nervously as you nodded and stood up, taking his hand while you tried to calm your racing mind; this wasn’t anything bad, this was good and you had nothing to worry about. Still - it felt like a huge task.

“Of course,” you offered up a nervous smile as you let him lead you outside of the small reception hall and out into the gardens. You had spotted Javier talking to a few people, a beer clutched in his hand, and a megawatt grin on his face as he laughed at something. It was enough to suck the air from your lungs as you realized just how much you loved this man. Your longing little glance wasn’t lost on Chucho, who simply laughed to himself. As soon as you stepped outside, you took in a long breath of fresh air. You were glad you had come to Texas with Javier; it was beautiful here and you were happy to build a home, a family - a life here.

“You really love him, don’t you?” he asked as he sat down on one of the benches and beckoned for you to join him. A flush of warmth rose up in your chest and cheeks as you nodded and sat down next to him, “I can tell. He loves you too - won’t ever stop talking about you. And the way he looks at you...I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that before.”

“Not even-”

“Not even Lorraine,” he explained as you let a small sigh of relief as he laughed at you, “you have nothing to worry about, mija. Javier’s not going anywhere. Do you know about the first time he told me about you?”

“No,” you cringed slightly, remembering the beginning of your relationship - just your work relationship. Needless to say it was not love at first; the two of you were constantly at each other’s throats, always having to have the last word. It was a slow progression from rivals to friends to lovers; but when you started falling in love with him, it was fast and hard and there was no stopping it. You never really believed in soul mates, or someone being the one, but with Javier...you just knew. He was the one and only for you. Just like he had changed your perspective on many things, you had caused him to completely change too. You made him in the best possible version of himself, he always claimed.

“Oh mija,” he laughed as he took a sip of his beer, “he called me and he was absolutely livid, he went on and on about the new partner he had, how he couldn’t stand her, how she was too much and he was positive she wouldn’t last.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right. Javi and I didn’t like each other for a long time,” you laughed; you still remembered the look on his face the day you had met him. It was anything but love back then, “we were at it for a long time. I didn’t know if we’d ever get along but...obviously things turned out very differently. I love him, a lot. More than anything really.”

“It’s obvious,” he agreed, “I can just see it in the way the two of you look at each other. He’s different now - better, more himself. You’ve helped him more than now.”

“He’s helped me too,” you admitted softly. The two of you had been through so much both separately and together - more darkness and demons than many people have ever seen. But it was like you always managed to chase the darkness away from one another, bringing in some light and love into each other’s lives in every which way, I really don’t know what I’d do without him. I hope...I hope I have your blessing to marry your son. Nothing in the world would make me happier.”

“Of course,” he took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as you sniffled lightly in an attempt to hold back your tears, “our family is yours. Javier made the best choice ever with you.”

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” you grinned at him and suddenly the whole world seemed lighter. You knew that in the end you would stay with Javier, no matter what happened, but knowing you were so welcome in their family and already so loved made everything better, “I was so nervous at first...I know how much you mean to Javi, and it means a lot to me too.”

“You’re very important to us too,” he promised, “we’ve been looking forward to meeting you since the day he told us about you. Will you tell me one thing? And if Javier doesn’t know yet, I promise I won’t breathe a word to him…”

“What is it?” your heart leapt in your chest as you wondered what he could be asking you, although you had a feeling you knew.

“When is my grand baby coming? When are you due?” as soon as he asked his question your jaw dropped and you looked at him with wide eyes. You weren’t even showing yet, and didn’t think it was that obvious, “oh come on, I had a wife once, and she had Javier. I’ve been around enough pregnant women to know when someone is expecting. Plus you didn’t touch a drop of alcohol - and that’s kind of apparent at a wedding. He doesn’t know, does he?”

“I found out a few weeks ago,” you admitted sheepishly, a hand subconsciously going to your belly, “I’m almost three months along. We weren’t planning it or not planning it, and it just happened. It took me by surprise too. But I...I’m so excited. Javier is going to be a great father and I’m so excited to share all of this with him. I never thought I wanted all of this - a husband, a child, a home and a family but...I do. With Javier. Sure, things aren’t always perfect, but I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

“Kids in love,” he laughed lightly as you shrugged in agreement, “when are you going to tell him?”

“Do you think I should tell Javier now?”

“Tell Javier what?” at the sound of his familiar voice, you turned around and found Javier walking up to the two of you. You looked nervously at Chucho for what to do, but he just jerked his head in Javier’s direction and nodded, “what’s wrong, Dulzura?”

“Javi,” you stood up and reached for his hand, which he eagerly took and laced his fingers together with yours. You kissed his cheek before softly whispering, “I have something big to tell you.”

“Something big to tell me?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, “what - you’re nervous again...it’s not like we’re going to have a baby or anything!”

At his declaration, your mouth dropped and you gaped at him like a fish out of water for a few moments. Noticing your hesitation, his face went through a series of expressions, “umm...Javier? You’re going to be a father, my love. So yes, it is like we’re having a baby.”

“Seriously?” he asked in surprise as his hands went to either side of your face and he wiped away the few tears that had rolled down your cheeks, “Dulzura…”

“Surprise,” you grinned at him before he kissed you, “are you happy, Javi? Please tell me you’re happy.”

“I am perfect,” his reassurance was gentle and soft as he nuzzled his nose against yours, “this is everything I never knew I wanted. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Javier.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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507 notes · View notes

dapandapod · 3 years

Note

24 or 34 for the hug prompt 💖🥰

24. wanting to hug but your ignored 34. hug to prevent a fight

Alright, you asked for mean so here goes. Let me tell you right now, I made myself SO mad writing this. Like, properly pissed off. I want you all to mind the tags, because this dude is an asshole and not shy about it. Thank you @kuripon for the beta, you are wonderful and I love you <3

Warnings: swearing, insults, sexual inuendos and name calling, (not the nice kind) Geralt is so, so stupid (but eskel saves the day don't worry) and sad, sad Jaskier. please mind the warnings

Send me a hug prompt? (I can be fluffy too I promise)

On Ao3 Hug collection here

“So tell me bard.” The man on the other side of the bar leans over the counter with another three or five men leering behind him. “How did you earn your keep tonight? Fucking or singing?”

Jaskier blinks and frowns, sensing Geralt and Eskel tensing next to him.

“Excuse me?”

“You know?” The man makes a very lewd hand gesture. “Or maybe even…” And now he mimics a blow job.

“Sir, I will let you know, I am a world-famous poet and highly sought after bard. I earn my keep just by stepping into the building.”

Jaskier doesn’t want to brag, but this man either doesn’t know who he is talking to, or knows exactly who he is talking to, and neither option is good.

“Oh yes, the master Dandelion, known for his silver tongue. You use that in many ways, I hear.” The man wiggles his eyebrows and his friends behind him laugh. So he knows, then.

“Don’t speak to him that way.” Geralt stands up behind Jaskier, a looming, angry presence at his back. Some of the men take an involuntary step back, but the man talking just smiles wider.

“Ah, there he is! Butcher of Blaviken! Tell me, who pays who in your arrangement? The bard whore, for you to stick around, or the Butcher, wanting to get his dick wet?”

This time, Eskel stands up, putting himself between Geralt and the man. Turns out to be a good idea, because Geralt is growling, baring his teeth.

“No, Geralt,” Eskel murmurs. “It’s not worth it.”

“Bard fucking you both? Huh, you gotta be good then. How much for a go?" the man asks, licking his lips as Jaskier feels his eyes run up and down his body.

Jaskier feels nausea at the back of his throat. This is not the first time someone has come on to him like this, but usually the witchers don’t get to hear the worst of it.

Geralt lunges forward, but Eskel catches him in a bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides.

“No, Geralt. You go upstairs and bring Jaskier with you. I’ll take out the trash,” Eskel mutters, turning to look at the asshole who suddenly realizes exactly who he’s been messing with.

Geralt growls again. Really, that man needs to learn some words instead of sounds, but he tears away from Eskel and glares.

If the heckler is found dead tomorrow, nobody would doubt for a second who did it.

“Come on, Jaskier,” Geralt says angrily, but doesn’t touch him like he usually would. Doesn’t let his hand rest on his shoulder, or offer comfort at his back.

“Hope you got enough coin, witcher! I hear he is famous!” the man yells, and Jaskier feels himself flinch and shrink in on himself.

They walk up the stairs when the first yelp of pain is heard, and more chairs scraping against the floor. When Geralt closes the door to their room behind them, Jaskier is sure he hears the heckler being thrown outside.

It feels better, but not by much.

He sits on the bed, arms around himself, feeling pathetic and hurt. All he wants is someone to wrap him up in a hug and make him feel less dirty. Preferably Geralt, but that is a dream forever dreamt. Geralt paces back and forth in the room, restless and agitated.

“I’m sorry,” Geralt says finally, stopping and looking down at him. Jaskier looks up, sure that his every emotion is showing on his face. As predicted, Geralt’s expression scrunches up and he drags a hand through his hair.

“I won’t touch you anymore,” Geralt says, and it hurts more than anything the man downstairs could ever have said.

Jaskier looks down on his feet again, before nodding and standing up.

“I’ll go see if I can have a bath drawn,” he says, and then flees out the door.

There is only so much he can take.

Geralt is unsure of what to do now. He paces back and forth, trying and failing to find something to do. It didn’t feel quite right, the way Jaskier left. He had said it to make Jaskier feel better, because obviously being associated with him put Jaskier in trouble. Geralt will never understand what he did to deserve him, but he doesn’t want to make Jaskier's life harder for knowing him.

Maybe he should go downstairs. Maybe he will feel better if he gets a good punch in on the asshole. He is about to head downstairs, when Eskel comes in and looks around.

“Where is Jaskier?”

“Bath,” Geralt mutters, absolutely not pouting about the fight already being over.

“Fair. I would want a bath too if I got that shit thrown at me.”

Geralt says nothing, just sits back down on the bed and fiddles with some loose threads on his tunic.

“Maybe I shouldn’t travel with him anymore,” Geralt says, regretting it the moment he opens his mouth.

“What? Why? Did Jaskier say something?” Eskel says, frowning and sitting down on the chair by the work table. He has his own room further down the hall, but it feels good to have his brother here now, to not be alone.

“No, but if being around us, me, will make people say such things to him, maybe he is safer if--”

“--You didn’t actually say this to him?” Eskel interrupts, sitting up ramrod straight.

“What? No, I only said I wouldn’t touch him anymore.”

“You..?! Oh my actual-- GERALT! You are such a fucking imbecile sometimes! Do you have cabbages for brains?!” Eskel stands up again, and he is the one pacing the room this time. A family trait, it seems.

“What? I just wanted to comfort him,” Geralt asks, getting increasingly self conscious.

“You fucking, UGH. No wonder you are still pining your asses off for each other! Geralt, if someone called you a whore, and then your best friend says he won’t touch you any more and wanted to go on separate ways, how would that make you feel? Fuck, why do I have to do this?!”

“Oh.”

“Yes, Geralt, Oh. Now you go the fuck down to Jaskier, this moment, and give him a hug. Melitele knows he could use it.”

Eskel more or less pulls Geralt off the bed and throws him out of his own room. Geralt turns to look back at him, but Eskel slams the door in his face.

Well then.

Geralt walks down the stairs to the bathing room, not even knocking before stepping in.

Jaskier sits fully dressed still with his face in his hands, staring with eyes watering, completely ignoring the steaming bathtub right next to him.

When he notices Geralt he looks up, and his eyes are so full of hurt and hope that Geralt could kick himself.

He opens his arms, and Jaskier is up from the bench. Three steps later he has thrown himself into Geralt’s arms, drawing in a ragged breath.

Maybe Eskel is right. Maybe the way to protect Jaskier is not to pull back, but to pull closer.

And the way Jaskier clings to him right now, maybe he will be allowed.

#mind the warnings #heckler #insults #geraskier #the witcher #geralt x jaskier #witcher geralt #witcher eskel #jaskier the bard #verbal abuse #hug prompts 2021 #dapanda writes #hugging to stop a fight #wanting a hug but being ignored #but i had to fix it #i need some sweetnes too #eskel carries the braincell #like a pro

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

ok so firstly I love any loops and jules fic but secondly could we have one where jules is having a really tough time (either missing loops/ picked on etc. ) and then we see loops (not coops) surprise him and is just so protective - just sibling fluff that’s it

Oh Jules, I’m sorry I did this to you. What a wonderful prompt, though! I’m always down to write sibling fluff! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW for bullying (older kids picking on younger kids)

Contrary to popular belief, Jules didn’t brag about his brother every minute of every day. There was no point, and he wanted to be known for his own talents rather than living in Remus’ shadow for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, some people didn’t seem to understand that.

A balled of lined paper smacked into the back of his head. “Heads up, Loopy!”

Jules threw the ball back; it bounced off the end of the table and hit the ground pathetically. “Nice shot,” Aidan snorted as he passed, bumping his shoulder against Jules’ and making him stumble. Several people laughed. His face burned with embarrassment.

“Yeah, I bet your brother’s really proud of that,” Luke sneered. He was a big kid, far bigger than Jules both in height and muscle even though he was only a couple years older.

“Don’t talk about my brother,” Jules said, much quieter than intended.

Luke raised his eyebrows. “What’re you going do about it, Loopy?”

“Just shut up.”

“Who’s gonna stop me?” He leaned across the cafeteria table and Jules fought the urge to back away. “Huh? Your brother? He’s never around.”

“He’s busy.”

“He doesn’t want to be here.”

“He does,” Jules insisted, feeling his throat tighten. “He does, he just doesn’t have time—”

“He’s a celebrity, dude, no wonder he doesn’t want his tagalong brother around.”

It’s not true, Jules told himself. It’s not true. Time and time again, Remus had told him that hockey came second to family, but after months of not seeing him it was starting to feel false. “Shut up.”

Luke shifted in his seat and folded his hands. “Face it, Loopy: your brother’s not around because he’d rather spend time with his cool friends than an annoying little kid.”

“Leave me alone.” Jules’ voice cracked and Luke grinned.

“You’re gonna cry?” he asked, full of false sympathy. “Aw, poor baby.”

“It’s not true.” It was getting harder to believe the words. “He visits whenever he can.”

The lunch bell rang before Luke could retaliate; he ruffled Jules’ hair too hard to be comfortable and left, already laughing with his group of friends. What a dick, Jules thought as he swallowed down the tears.

He made it through the rest of his classes in a daze and walked home on muscle memory. It was a cold day for April, but maybe he could blame his red-rimmed eyes on the wind. Maybe Luke is right, part of him argued. There wasn’t a lot of evidence, but it was enough to make him want to throw up.

“Hey, baby, how was your day?” his mother called when he opened the door.

That was the tipping point, the tiny pebble that shattered the cracked glass dam holding back his tears. Jules sobbed once, dropped his backpack on the floor, and ran for the safety of his bedroom. “Jules—” The slam of his door cut his father’s concern short.

He grabbed the family picture off his wall and threw it across the room—there was no glass or frame, only tape, so seeing it flutter to the ground was far less satisfying than he had hoped. Remus had him on his shoulders for the picture; they all looked so happy. Jules sat down on the other side of his bed and buried his face in his arms, letting the emotions he had been holding in for three full hours flood out.

Deep down, he knew Luke was a liar and a bully with nothing better to do than pick on younger kids. That didn’t mean his words hurt any less.

A few minutes later, there was a gentle knock on the door. “Go away!”

There was a brief pause, then another knock.

“Just—just please give me a minute, mom!”

“I’m not mom.” Jules’ heart skipped a beat. “Can I come in?”

You’ve never been around to help me before. Anger reared up in his chest. “No!”

Remus hesitated for a moment. Jules hoped he was shocked, stunned, hurt. “Okay.”

There was a rustling noise; he looked around the foot of the bed to see a shadow in the crack beneath the door. “Are you—what are you doing?”

“Sitting down.”

“Go away.”

“No.”

“Mom, make him go away!”

“What did I do, Jules?” Remus sounded sad. There was none of his usual teasing in his tone. The anger twisted around in Jules and he scrubbed at the tears and snot on his face.

“When did you get here?” He knew he was being rude; his mother would have given him a pursed-lips look if he talked like that to anyone normally.

“A couple hours ago. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It’s a terrible surprise. Go away.”

“Not until you tell me what I did.”

Jules took a few shallow breaths before answering. “You’re never here. Never.”

“I know. I’m s—”

“I hate you,” he sobbed, bringing his knees tighter to his chest. “I hate you so much.”

There was a long stretch of silence on the other side of the door, but the shadow remained. “That’s fair,” Remus said quietly.

“No, it’s not!” Jules clambered to his feet and stomped over to the door, wrenching it open. “It’s not fair! I shouldn’t hate you, this is your job! You should—you should—”

Remus looked up at him from his crosslegged seat on the carpet. “I should what?”

“You should yell at me. Or make me open the door, or do anything that makes me angry at you.” He sniffled and hugged himself.

“When have I ever yelled at you?”

“The rat. And the water balloons. And when I stole your sticks. And when I froze your underwear.”

Remus winced slightly. “Fair point. I don’t keep yelling once you’re in the room, though, right?”

Jules deflated. “No.”

“So I’m not going to yell at you. Also, your bedroom smells weird, so I don’t want to go in there unless I have to.”

A smile tried forcing its way out and Jules covered it with his best scowl. “My room doesn’t smell weird.”

Remus sniffed the air, then shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

“Why are you here?”

“Mom said she was getting ice cream.”

Jules perked up. “Did she?”

“No.” Remus held up the car keys. “We can fix that problem, though. Go get your shoes.”

“Can I drive?’

“If you can convince dad, sure.” Remus stood up and mussed his hair; his hand was gentle, though, unlike Luke’s. It was a welcome change.

He grabbed his sneakers from under his bed and hopped down the hall as he pulled them on. “Dad, can I drive?”

His father didn’t even look up from the paper. “When Hell freezes over, buddy.”

“Lyall,” his mother scolded from the kitchen, though her eyes crinkled at the edges. “Remus, remember not to swear around your brother!”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he said, holding the door open for Jules as he shrugged his coat on.

They drove in relative silence, save for the Top Rock Hits of the Eighties cassette that they had each heard half a billion times. Remus pulled into the Dairy Queen drive-thru and rattled off Jules’ favorite without even having to ask. Somehow, that both soothed him and upset him even more. He handed the cone over carefully, stuck his blizzard in the cupholder, and started driving in the opposite direction of the house.

“Are you kidnapping me?” Jules asked, licking a stray drip of vanilla off the cone.

“I don’t think I can, seeing as we’re related.”

“You can. You don’t have custody.”

“Why do you know that?”

“Why don’t you, Mr. Fancy Degree?”

“This might surprise you, but they don’t exactly cover the intricacies of kidnapping in PT school.”

“Shame.”

Remus made a noise of agreement around the straw of his Blizzard as they rolled to a stop at the red light. “So, are we going to talk?”

“We already are.”

“Dude.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He made a face when a chunk of Oreo got stuck the straw. “If you get that out before the next light, you can have a sip.”

Jules took it and squeezed the thin plastic. “Luke Sanders is an asshole.”

“Language.” The car stopped again and Jules showed off the unblocked straw. “Do continue, though.”

“You’ve hit every red light since we left the house. That’s got to be a curse.” He took a long sip, then handed it across the console. “You like hanging out with me, right?”

“Obviously. You’re, like, my favorite person.” Remus gave him a confused look.

“Okay, cool.” Jules felt his hands start to shake again, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t from his ice cream. Just hearing him say that made a tsunami of relief run through him. “Cool.”

“Did Luke Sanders tell you I didn’t?”

“He said a lot of stuff.”

Remus pulled into a parking lot, then took the key out and turned in his seat. “Like what?”

Jules shrugged one shoulder. “That you don’t want to be here.”

“And?” His voice had softened.

“And that it’s my fault, since I’m an annoying little tagalong.” Jules picked at the paper wrapper around his cone and didn’t look up. “He’s got a p—”

“If you say he’s got a point, all your underwear is going in the freezer.” All traces of gentleness were gone from his tone, leaving tightly-controlled fury in its place.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t—” Remus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t apologize, Jules.”

“You’re upset.”

“Yeah, because some little shit was picking on my brother and I wasn’t there to kick his ass.”

“I can handle it.”

If anything, that seemed to upset him even more. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Sometimes.”

“Have you told anyone?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to be a tattletale.”

“Jules, there’s a difference between being a tattletale and reporting a bully.” Remus tipped his chin up. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Jules’ lower lip wobbled. “I missed you. I always miss you, but he’s been really awful recently and he keeps saying the same stupid stuff over and over.”

Remus’ nose and cheeks reddened. “I missed you, too. If I could be here all the time, I would.”

“I know it’s not your fault, and I know you’re busy.” He wiped away another tear and tried to pull himself together. “But it’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” Remus agreed. “It’s not fair that I’m gone nine months out of the year, and it’s not right that people are making fun of you for it. Hang on for a second, okay?”

Jules nodded, still drying his cheeks. Remus got out of the car and jogged to the other side, then opened the passenger door and gestured for him to get out; as soon as his sneakers touched the ground, he was lifted almost a foot into the air. “I’m sorry for yelling,” he managed, burying his face in his brother’s neck.

Remus kissed the side of his head and held him close. “I’m sorry I’m not around more.”

He hooked his chin over Remus’ shoulder. “Can you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Will you be here whenever you can? I know that might not be often, but just…when you can.”

He felt Remus’ chest hitch against him. “Always,” he whispered. “Always.”

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elijahlittle · 3 years

Text

WE'LL TALK ABOUT IT LATER (Bertolt Hoover/Reader)

TITLE: WE'LL TALK ABOUT IT LATER PAIRING: bertolt hoover/reader, light choking(?) TAGS: semi-public sex, female-bodied reader TRIGGER WARNINGS?: kind of mean and unhealthy y/n interactions (very light) w baby bertolt but on god it's part of the plot, very slight dubcon? idk if it can be interpreted that way but it's tagged for safety AU: idk modern au b/c i fuck hard with those DECSRIPTION: yes i believe in bottom bertolt supremacy but one of my friends gave me this idea like okay hear me out, y/n has been straight up blue-balling her boyfriend for quite some time, and it's getting frustrating, so he swallows his nervousness and, per suggestion of his good friend eren, decides to make even in the middle of the movie theater. by the way i am TIRED of everyone having eren hating on bertolt they would be GOOD FRIENDS in a modern au. WORD COUNT: 2,233

"Hey, Eren . . . I have a question" Bertolt looked like he was going to crawl out of his skin as he sat on the opposite end of the couch in the basement, his hands resting on his knees as he fiddled with his fingers.

"Shoot" Said Eren Yeager, pulling his hair back into a messy bun - his fingers expertly tying a small scrunchie into his hair. Jean had teased him about using scrunchies relentlessly - but Eren would die on the hill that using them was better for your hair; the last thing he wanted was for his hair to fall out.

"I, uh . . ." Bertolt's face was turning red, his nose scrunched as he stared at his knees, trying to figure out how to breach the subject. "So you know that y/n and I have been . . . you know, dating for quite some time . . ."

"Yeah . . .?" Eren drawled lazily, leaning his elbows on his knees as he played lazily on his phone, his thumbs typing away. For the most part, he seemed uninterested. "Where are you going with this?"

"Well, you know with dating comes . . . s-" Bertolt paused, now pressing his knuckles together tightly.

"Sex?"

"Yeah, that"

"Well, we've been having it a lot lately . . ."

"Are you just sitting me down to brag about your sex life . . .?" Eren inquired, raising an eyebrow - not that Eren was one to judge as he was often guilty of spilling his guts about his sexual escapades. But with Bertolt? . . . Well, it felt weird and out of place.

"N-No!" was Bertolt's immediately response. "It's not that. It's just lately, well . . ."

"Lately what? Spit it out. I don't have all day." Eren responded, looking down at his phone that was currently blowing up. He had a date coming up soon and he was relatively excited for it.

"Well . . . usually, y/n is, you know, on top . . . you know, more assertive -"

"I mean you didn't have to tell me that" Eren interrupted, "We all knew that -"

"- anyways" Bertolt's face was turning hot at the comment. He didn't have the time to really address Eren's comment. "I like it! I do! But lately, I've been thinking well, I'd like to take control . . ."

"Oh?" Eren's ears perked up and he was wriggling his way closer to Bertolt. "So you took control and they didn't like it, and now you're asking me for help?"

"No . . . not exactly."

"Then what happened?"

"Well, I asked them if they'd be willing to you know . . . switch it up and -"

"Jesus fuck, Bert. You can't just ask you have to just do -"

". . . and well, they laughed in my face, pat my cheek, and said no. I asked Reiner what to do and Reiner said to tell them I wasn't going to have sex until they gave me what I want. I thought it was a bad idea, but I went with it anyways and . . . well, they told me that two could play at that game and it's been . . ."

"How long has it been?"

"Uh . . ." Bertolt squirmed a bit in his place, "Two weeks. . ."

"Two weeks!" Eren exclaimed incredulously, in sheer disbelief. "That's insane! And you've just let them get away with it for this long?"

"Uh . . ." Bertolt scratched the back of his neck nervously, "What do you mean by get away with it? I mean . . . yeah . . .? What else am I supposed to do?"

"Well firstly," Eren said, picking up his phone, "Never ask Reiner for advice again. That was your first mistake. Secondly, let me cancel my date tonight -"

"Oh, no - you don't have to do that!" Bertolt responded quickly, "Just a few pieces of advice would be sufficient . . ."

Eren tapped away tirelessly at his phone before turning it face-down on the coffee table, now turning towards Bertolt - a rather determined look in his eyes.

"No -" Eren held up a hand, "I want to help. Besides, I'm going to tell you exactly what to do and we're going to run over it a few times, then - I'm going to make sure you don't pussy out. Knowing you, this is going to take a while. Consider it my early birthday present to you"

"My birthday was a month ago . . ."

"That's not the point. Anyways," Eren placed a very serious hand on his friend's shoulder, pulling Bertolt closer, "You're going to want to take her to the most popular movie in theaters on a Saturday night -"

"Where are you going with this?"

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

Seeing how packed the movie theater was, Bertolt was definitely thinking about backing out of it. While his partner was in the restroom, presumably washing their hands, he fiddled with his phone in his hands.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

To: Eren Yeager

From: Bertolt Hoover

- I don't know if this is a good idea . . .

Read: 9:45 pm

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

From: Eren Yeager

To: Bertolt Hoover

- If you don't go through with this I'll never forgive you. I canceled a date to prep you on this. Don't make me have canceled my date in vain. I dedicated my heart to this cause.

Read: 9:47 pm

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

To: Eren Yeager

From: Bertolt Hoover

- I guess . . .

Read: 9:48 pm

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

To: Bertolt Hoover

From: Eren Yeager

- I'm putting my upmost faith and trust in you. Don't fuck this up.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

"Here -" Bertolt extended his arms out to you as you came back from the restroom and concessions, a bag of candy in your hands, "I brought this for you."

His smile was innocent enough and the gesture was kind.

"Thank you." Was your tart response as you leaned over to pat the side of his face and press a kiss to his forehead before sitting down. "So have you changed your mind about what you asked for?" You inquired, taking his hand in your own as you opened your bag of candy and set it between the two of you as you linked your fingers in his own. Perhaps you shouldn't have brought up that topic of conversation here, on a movie date, but you couldn't help it - the way his big eyes looked up at you when he handed you the blanket drove you crazy. It made you want to lower yourself on him right then and there. It was just a damn shame that he had to be so persistent. The first week was easy enough but as you rounded out the second week of this no-sex stalemate . . . well, it was getting more difficult.

He openly frowned.

"Is that a no?"

"Do we have to have this conversation here? Let's just try to have a good night . . ."

You felt a bit guilty but were never the type who was keen on saying sorry.

"We'll talk about it later, then . . ." You responded dryly, clearly unhappy with the response.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

To be honest, when Bertolt had suggested watching one of the like, seven hundred Quentin Tarentino movies produced, you were slightly surprised. He was never one for big action movies - especially loud ones; loud noises were often too intense for him. As well as that, neither of you were into mindless action movies. However, this - whatever the hell this was - was actually quite enjoyable.

Halfway through the movie, you found yourself sucked into a particularly loud action scene.

You hadn't really noticed, or particularly cared, when Bertolt had slipped his hand underneath the blanket - resting his palm on your knee. It was kind of comforting.

You hadn't really noticed when he slipped his hand from the top of your knee to the inside of your knee, either.

Or when he inched it up halfway up your thigh.

However, you had noticed when his hand was slipping up your skirt, resting on the upmost part of your thigh where the muscle met the pelvis. For a second, you wondered if he was really trying to pull moves right here, in a movie theater, underneath this blanket - but when you looked over, noticing how tense and uncomfortable he was, you figured if he was, he wasn't going to go through with it - but settled on the notion that he probably wasn't even thinking about it.

A few moments passed by before you felt the tip of his finger press against your panties. There was a moment of tense surprise as your head snapped to look at your boyfriend, your expression narrowing - almost as though you were daring him to push further. You couldn't tell if he was embarrassed or not, but by the way he looked directly at the screen - you could tell he was at the very least a bit flustered.

If that was this case, this pathetic excuse for a mutiny would be over soon.

He drug the pad of his finger around your clothed clitoris gently, teasing it. You felt your abdomen jerk and dropped your hands onto his over the blanket, trying to hold them in place.

Bertolt's thin finger continued to tease around your clit before sliding downwards, continuing to rub over the fabric of your panties before pushing them slightly to the side. His face was hot with nervousness but the adrenaline of the entire situation was rushing to his head.

He continued to train his eyes on the screen in front of him, pretending to be invested in seeing the seventh car crash of the night. While his eyes were on the screen, his finger was sliding up and down your slit, slick from how wet you were. Bertolt wondered - what expression were you making right now? Was your face twisting up in confusion and frustration? Was your mouth forming into a little O?

You pressed your thighs together, your hands now squeezing at the armrests of the chair, squirming. Your heart raced and you pressed your head back into the chair, biting down on your lip as his finger slid its way back up to your clit, gently rubbing at it. Bertolt couldn't hear anything over the sound of cars crashing into each other, but he could certainly imagine how lewd you sounded - it only made sense, considering the fact that you were simply dripping.

Without much warning, Bertolt slipped his finger into you.

Head swimming, you let out a very small moan.

Finally, he turned his head to you.

"Are you okay?" He whispered. The question seemed innocent enough, but given that he was currently one knuckle deep into your cunt, his finger sliding in and out of you and curling, thumb pressing against your clit, you couldn't help but feel irritated with the question.

"Ber-" You let your head loll over to face him, face flushed red and and mouth slightly agape, though found yourself incapable of finishing the sentence as he slipped in a second finger.

The sight of your eyes half-lidded and your tongue poking out between your lips, which were parted gently, and the overall look of pathetic helplessness you gave him was almost too much. If the two of you weren't in a packed theater, he would have rolled you underneath him, torn off your panties, and fucked you underneath your skirt then and there. But for now, he'd have to settle for sliding his fingers back and forth against the inside of your gummy walls, which were tightening against him.

"Shh." He placed a finger to your lips. "The movie is still going. Try to keep quiet." His finger muffled the small gasps and groans you were breathing out. "Here - try this" He slipped a piece of candy in your mouth. "Good, no?"

He refrained from sliding his fingers into your mouth then and there.

As his fingers rocked in and out of you, you bit down on the candy to stifle the moans and gasps. For a second, you thought you were going to choke - but managed to swallow just fine.

Bertolt looked away, once more training his eyes on the movie. Pleasure pooled at the bottom of your stomach and very gently and discreetly, you began to grind your hips into his fingers.

"That's different." He mumbled to himself.

The second time he turned to look over at you, he could see tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you struggled to discreetly grind your hips against his fingers, seeking out an orgasm, but couldn't quite find the pace your body needed without being blatantly obvious.

The only thing you could do was close your eyes and tilted your head back as Bertolt curled his fingers in you - the pace quickening.

Your heartrate grew faster and you could feel his lips press at the shell of your ear.

What was it that Eren said to add? he thought, that's right -

Breath hot on your ear, he rasped out a simple question.

"Tell me, do you deserve it?" Truthfully, he felt awkward saying it - as though the words didn't quite come out of his mouth. You must have disagreed though, because the only thing you could mutter out in response was -

"Y-Yes"

You were starting to reach the edge of your orgasm, your head pressed against his own, back arching gently, as he pressed his face into your neck. Legs shaking, you sucked in a deep breath and -

His fingers slipped out of you and he took a moment to wipe them off on the insides of the blanket before linking his fingers in your own, leaving you a rattled, shaking, frustrated mess - completely unraveled before him as you tried to catch your breath.

"I don't think you do. We'll talk about it later."

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burnedbyshoto · 3 years

Text

I wanted to make myself like the ravine

— There are plenty of things that Hawks knows about, but there are few he knows none about. A journey of how Hawks navigates the meaning of the word love.

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pairing: hawks (takami keigo) x fem!reader

warnings: recent manga spoilers, future!au, alcohol consumption, fem!reader

word count: 6,819

a/n: this is for the pocuties valentines day collab! rhank you for letting me join! inspired by the poem to the title of this fic!

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A G A P E

—

Hawks is one of the fastest men in the world.

It’s not a brag; it’s the truth.

A cold, hard, damning truth.

Hawks is a Pro Hero with the power, skill, and finesse required to take the fall for the entire country. He is someone who is loved by all, who thrives off of the appreciation and the cheers, but he knows — he understands — he’s expendable. He’s a tool—an object seconds from being put to rest.

There are many things that Hawks knows; he’s been training to be a hero since he was in his very childhood. Blindfolded, tested and conditioned to be the ideal hero, the perfect pawn.

Hawks is no idiot, and he will never deny that often times that he isn’t sure what he is feeling.

Emotions are weird for him. Feelings are oversimplified in everything he was taught, yet disgustingly really and oddly interfering the second he had set foot into the spotlight. He was used to the cold, the people who would view him as a specimen, experiment 20493, codenamed: Fierce Winged Hawks. The only emotions he understood was apathy, seriousness, anger, resentment, bitterness, disappointment, and relief. When finally, finally, the Hero Commission broke his wings, his spine, and his mind, the small boy so eager to be a Hero ultimately nothing but a soldier, ready to follow commands to the T.

Hawks has only heard of love from the blurry, unclear memories of his childhood. His mother muttering how she had no love for him to be taking care of him as he did, or his father saying he could never love him. Love was foreign, strange, alien to him. Even when he was eighteen and finally given a bit of freedom from the chains the Hero Commission bound him in was expressed out of love. But he was put into the cage that granted him the ability to spread his stiff wings; love made no sense.

He saw lovers making out in alleyways, and he furrowed his eyebrows, wondering just why anyone would want to kiss in the smelly, dark, virus-infected areas. He saw his colleagues come in looking dazed, refreshed, reborn, yelling loudly, and singing poetry about their love for some other person they met just yesterday. He also couldn’t ignore the days, weeks, months later when they would rearrive with red-rimmed eyes, swollen eyes, and a tremor to their voice.

Love seemed… awful to Hawks.

Love was a deception of brain chemicals. Nothing more than your mind bending, flipping, and twisting to make something that made absolutely no sense make sense.

Hawks had expressed that one day to a sidekick of his, his barriers and walls crumbling away because he had been on a stakeout for five days straight now. The world that could never keep up with him was numbing his brain.

“Well, that’s romantic and flirtatious love for ya,” his sidekick explained with a halfhearted shrug. It seemed that he both agreed and disagreed with what Hawks had to say. “They’re amazing loves, don’t get it wrong, and they definitely don’t make sense, but they’re loves not meant to last.”

Hawks blinked.

“What?”

His sidekick chuckled, hands rubbing at his eyes as he peered out the window again, his sullen eyes looking even more tired.

“Have you never learned the different types of love before, Hawks?” the sidekick teased as much as he was curious. “I figured a pro as popular and smart as you are would know the different types of love.”

Hawks feathers fluttered in his inability to keep his lack of knowledge to himself.

“I don’t.”

“Wow, finally something Hawks isn’t aware of!” the sidekick laughed, and his hand opened his phone, fingers hitting the screen before shoving the device into Hawks’ chest. “I’m sure you’ll find that you can understand at least one love.”

Hawks grabbed the phone, head cocking to the side in his curiosity as he scrolled down through the phone.

There were eight different types.

Eight different ones that he could have experienced within his then twenty-one years, and he found himself unable to look away from one.

Agape: universal, selfless love

“Hawks, they’re moving!” the sidekick squawked, and Hawks handed over the phone, and with nothing on his mind, burst out the window, ready to take down this organization.

Hawks had to admit that later that night, when he was finally able to sleep in his own bed, he felt selfless love. It was for the people of Japan. The many citizens who needed his help and the heroes of the country who rose to the demands of the job. Maybe it wasn’t the type of love depicted in anything he’s ever read or watched before, but that was okay. It was love.

The love he has for the citizens is enough to keep his head afloat.

This is the only love he needs in his life right now, the only love that matters.

But he’s no longer twenty-one, he’s twenty-five, and the wings on his back that feel practically invisible to him, are hurting. His back is in pain, his quirk almost gone, save for the smallest, insignificant feathers perching from the stumps of what was his beginnings of a wingspan. It still burns, phantom singes and phantom heat whenever he thinks about his nearly gone, never to be grown again, wings.

“Well, Hawks, you already know that this is going to happen,” comes the cold voice of one of the board members of the Hero Commission. A man who had practically raised (see managed) him.

Today was the end of Hawks life, more or less.

“AFO, Shigaraki Tomura, and the well-known former members of the League of Villains were finally stopped,” Hawks speaks with a nod. He knows, even though he could not be a soldier, he had been around to see the young UA students, Endeavors Interns, bring them to justice.

The biggest names of evil were dead, and Hawks already knew he was over.

To be fair, he was glad it was over.

But still, it hurt to hear the indifference in his voice, the apathy, the tedium.

“Operation: Fierce Wings - Hawks is officially over.”

“I could’ve figured that one out pretty easily,” Hawks jests, unable to show the way his heart twisted and withered under the knowledge that he was no longer a hero. His love, his agape, for the people were still there. Still, just as he recognized in his colleagues who were experiencing the different forms of love, it didn’t matter how much love you held for someone, something, for the innocent, helpless people…

Life takes, it destroys, and love doesn’t seem to have a chance.

“Thank you for your twenty years of service. I hope you find the freedom you had been looking for.”

P H I L A U T I A

It’s been a week.

Seven days, twenty-one hours, sixteen minutes, and thirty-four seconds since Hawks was fired (see Honorably Discharged) as a Pro Hero.

Hawks has always felt that the world moved oh so slowly behind him. It had been his wish that heroes be able to relax, laze around because society had evolved enough that criminals knew better, were treated better, and could integrate into a truly peaceful society.

It had been his dream.

But right now, he was bored.

B o r e d.

“Fuck, I don’t care,” Hawks grumbled, face smooshing into a pillow as he watched the Netflix Series Bridgerton drone on the screen. “Dump his ass.”

His apartment, it was safe to say, was a mess. There were cups, bowls, plates, and chopsticks everywhere. His hair was ruffled, stringy, held back by a hair clip he had stolen from Miruko. His beard was nearly fully grown in, and there were bags under his eyes despite the fact he was sleeping for more hours of the day than staying awake. He was sore, tired, bored.

So bored.

He didn’t think being bored was going to suck this much, going to hurt him like this.

Fuck.

“Open the damn door, bird boy!” came a sharp scream and powerful kick from the front door.

Hawks glared at the door, the tiniest of feathers he had been able to regrow, trying to pathetically open the lock on the door. A sheen layer of sweat pushed against his forehead, and Hawks grunted, trying to lift the heavy lock.

BAM.

The door swung open, forcefully kicked open by none other than Pro Hero Miruko.

“Yo!” Miruko waved, lips pulled in a fierce grin as she entered through the broken doorway with nothing but a bag of unknown items. “I figured you were here!”

“...you broke my door,” Hawks pointed out, eyes narrowed as dust and destruction danced within the air.

“You took too long,” Miruko breezed, slamming her plastic bag on the kitchen island. “It’s a fucking rats nest in here, birdbrain; I thought you were somewhat organized?”

Hawks groaned loudly, sinking further into his couch as Miruko began reorganizing his kitchen area — dumping the dirty dishes into the sink and throwing things away in fast, practiced skill. “Life is too boring, and I’m too bored to do anything about all of the mess,” Hawks exaggerates partially, hand twisting and dancing as he speaks. “Thanks for cleaning up the mess.”

“I’m not cleaning up your damn mess, birdbrain,” Miruko barks out a laugh, her hands slamming against the now, somehow, clean surface. “I’m just making my life easier!”

Hawks looked over the top of the couch with a semi impressed, semi uncaring look and shrugged.

“You seem to have a great handle over those robot limbs now,” he points out.

Sure enough, Miruko had two bionic limbs, limbs that she had finally managed to work into a fighting career. After spending two years on the sideline, relearning how to walk and then fight, she was back on the field.

She was a hero again, despite it all, unlike him.

“Damn right, I’m amazing!” Miruko preened, chest puffed, and bunny tail wagging excitedly. “But anyway, I figured your dumbass would be depressed, so I brought you some shit.”

Hawks watched with a curious gaze as Miruko quickly hopped once from where she was in the kitchen to a place on his couch, landing on Hawks' legs unintentionally.

“OW!”

“Look at what Rumi brought you,” Miruko laughed, slapping Hawks on the back as he cradled his legs. “And yes, I just referred to myself in the third person, so shush.”

Hawks grumbled, lips in a half pout, half frown.

Taking the opaque bag from Miruko, Hawks pulled out the many items in the bag.

Carrots, a KFC gift card, Korean skincare products, a movie about Miruko’s recovery process, and a 1001 Things to Do (A Book on Finding Self Love).

Hawks stares at the book.

“The perfect items for a self-care, self-love spa day,” Miruko nods, once again slapping Hawks on the back. “Some old sidekick of yours told me that you don’t know what love is, so I figured that I would help teach you the most important one! Self-love! Truly the hardest one to master, in my opinion, but damn if it isn’t a good one.”

Hawks feels transfixed almost, unable to look away from the book as Miruko slaps him on the back yet again as she moves to leave. He hears her yelling about forwarding the bill to fix his door to her, her agency would pay for the damage, and how she’s off to train with some bunny hopping boy from UA.

Opening the book, Hawks looked at the number one thing to do on the book and sighed.

#1: Look in a mirror and name five things you LOVE about yourself.

Well, it’s not like he has anything better to do.

Hawks is on number thirteen (Stand at a bridge and scream into the void about the things you love at dusk) when he realizes that maybe… he doesn’t love himself.

It is without saying that he loves people; agape, after all, is the only love type that made sense to him, but philautia, self-love, was way lost on him. Objectives 2 - 12 on the book were entertaining to do! They had Hawks going outside of his house much more than his week trapped indoors, and for the first time since the day his wings had been burnt off, his house was spotless.

But it was clear to Hawks that he didn’t feel love for himself.

Whenever he tried to convince himself that he should love himself, that there were terrific qualities in himself, he thought back to the dirty, burnt room.

“I still gotta protect their happiness!” the phantom in his mind screamed, the broken sob collected in his throat.

Hawks shivered, unable to let himself recognize the pain and hurt in the phantom's eyes, or the way that he now wished he had never done that… why had he done that?

What a mess…

The small chirping of Hawks phone interrupts his morose thoughts. He looks at the screen, eyebrows raising in slight mirth and caution as none other than his former intern was currently calling him.

“Tsukuyomi-kun!” Hawks laughs into the receiver, the weight of his past for a moment forgotten. “How are ya?!”

“Hello, Hawks-sensei,” Tokoyami’s calm tone fills Hawks' ears. “I was calling because I have a request to make.”

“Name it,” Hawks spoke immediately, slouching against the cold bars of the bridge, eyes closing as he tried to relax. “You need a letter of rec or something?”

“Nothing of the sort, actually,” Tokoyami says. “We third-year students are graduating in a few days; I was inquiring if you would attend on my behalf.”

“Wow, Tsukuyomi-kun, no need to be so formal with me!” Hawks laughed delightedly, his hands carting through his feather-like hair, “I’d love to come and watch you guys graduate! Is it true that the finger-smashing boy is the valedictorian?”

“That would be false, Midoriya-kun has nothing on Yaoyorozu-san.”

“What a bummer, you’d think he’d be first after how he helped win the war for us, huh?”

“You’ll find that Yaoyorozu-san is highly gifted and undeterred by most things,” Tokoyami sighed. For a moment, Hawks chuckled at the melancholy tone to his old intern's voice. It sounded as if he had been striving with great difficulty to reach the highest marks as well.

Hawks began speaking to his rather odd ex-intern with great curiosity with the blanket of the night surrounding him. His defenses and thoughts whittling away the more they spoke, the later it got in the morning.

“Ne, Tokoyami-kun, I have a question?”

“Concerning what?”

Hawks pauses, his brows furrowing as he looks up into the still dark sky, “Do you know how to love yourself?”

Silence.

Had it been anyone else, Hawks would have panicked at the lack of noise. Still, his already less than chatty intern typically took to not speaking much to begin with.

“Self-love is difficult,” Tokoyami finally spoke, his words slow, carefully chosen. “We humans are flawed; we all have demons. Most of the time, we only recognize and see our demons, oftentimes forgetting that being human also means being weak and at times immoral. Loving oneself is a hard task because we know ourselves better than any other. It’s a work in progress for everyone to love oneself, it's a type of love by the Ancient Greeks, but it’s not always everpresent. One must accept all flaws to love oneself, and remember that flaws don’t make you less, even if you believe otherwise.”

“...wow, I asked for a sentence answer, and you gave me a speech. Who would’ve known you were so in check with your emotions, Tokoyami!”

“You knew, I’ve already revealed this side of me before. You laughed last time too.”

Hawks finds himself home thirty minutes later, and he stares up at the ceiling, fingers drumming against his chest.

Self-love… it seems like an ever-evolving type of love, but it’s there. He knows that even if he has regrets and hardships and things he hates about himself, deep down, self-love exists and that it will exist.

Patience.

Even the fastest man in the world could demonstrate patience.

L U D U S

“What can I get for ya?”

“I have no idea honestly, do you have any recommendations?”

Hawks could say with complete honesty that he felt entirely out of place.

He was at a local bar. The bar was semi-busy today. Most young adults dressed in an arrangement of clothes, each on a different level of soberness as they cheered to this and that.

Why was he at a bar even though he was slightly uncomfortable? Well, you can blame #73 in the book for that.

(#73: Enter the first bar you find, order a drink, and flirt!)

“What type of liquor do you like? Hard or soft?”

Hawks blinked; he didn’t know.

“Hard?”

The bartender looked a bit unsure of him for a bit before nodding and turning his back to him.

Did hard liquor mean he was going to get an iced drink? He’s never consumed alcohol before.

“Here you go!” the bartender sang, slamming two shot glasses before him. “Two shots of Bacardi.”

“Oh, thank you?” Hawks tilted his head as a small cup of OJ was placed in front of him (“That’s your chaser,” the bartender had laughed). Bringing the small glass shot glass up, Hawks looked around at the throngs of people surrounding the bar and looked at you. You were cheering loudly as you raised your own shot glass in the air with a whoop and, in a fast, fluid motion, brought the shot glass to your mouth and took the liquid down easily. Hawks was definitely unimpressed now; that looked entirely too easy. “Here we go, cheers to me.”

Imitating your own actions, Hawks shot back the liquid in his shot glass, and immediately his entire body tensed.

EW.

NO.

EW.

OH GOD, NO!

Spitting out the sour, bitter, disgusting — dear god, how do you even describe this taste?! — liquid, Hawks, chugged the OJ, his lungs and throat and tongue burning from the shot.

“That was disgusting!” Hawks spat to absolutely no one, his hands covering his mouth as he stared at the other awaiting shot of ‘Bacardi.’ “Why would anyone drink that?!”

“Only madmen drink Bacardi while sober,” a voice joined in on Hawks' one-sided conversation. “Or bitches who are self-sabotagers. Never trust a hoe who says Bacardi is their favorite drink.”

Hawks turned around to see you, the girl he had regrettably underestimated for taking the shot, smiling at him with a not entirely sober look to your face.

“You look like neither. That and the way you took the shot obviously means that you had no idea what you were drinking.” Hawks continued to stare at you, completely perplexed by your casual conversation, the dress on your body that was twisted a bit, screaming wonders about your level of sobriety. You took to the empty barstool beside him with a grin and a calculating look, “You’re Hawks, right?”

“Yeah, Hawks,” he spoke, his tongue feeling weird in his mouth as he bowed stiffly in his chair. You were beautiful, fuck.

“I’m y/l/n, nice to meet you!” you speak easily, fingers grabbing at his other filled shot glass with a concerned look. “I have a feeling you shouldn’t try to take this other shot.”

“Dying of alcohol definitely isn’t in my vision of ways to go out,” Hawks grins. Pushing through his haze of awkwardness as you shift in the barstool so that you’re now facing him entirely, knees pressed to his thigh. “I’ve never actually drunk before?”

You inhale sharply, your eyes going wide as you break all levels of personal contact that’s acceptable of strangers in Japan and grab his cheeks.

“Alcohol virgin?!” you gasp, the sweet smell of some liquid drafting from your breath. “I’ll teach you everything that I know, don’t worry!”

You let go of his face, neck turning away from him, looking for the bartender to flag him down.

“Don’t you have—?”

“They can wait,” you wave at the bartender before turning back to Hawks with a confident grin on your face. “I have my favorite Pro Hero right beside me; I think they’ll understand.”

“Alright, what is it that I need to know?”

“My full name,” you breeze with a wink. “Y/l/n y/n.”

“A beautiful name.”

“I am a beautiful woman.”

Hawks chuckled good-naturedly, his head nodding in agreement, “I think we were talking about the alcohol, though, not your attraction as a female.”

“All in good time, all in good time,” you laugh, taking to the bartender and ordering two drinks, both of which were entirely foreign to Hawks.

Hawks would not consider himself to be an expert at flirting. He was attractive, a great conversationalist, and did have a type of edge to his words that often seemed playful or a warning, depending on how you looked at it. But it appeared that his natural way of speaking was more than enough to make him flirtatious enough to match the way you spoke to him.

You had introduced him to a single mixed drink, telling him that getting drunk by yourself at a bar typically wasn’t a smart thing, so keep to something with a low alcohol percentage. Just enough to make you loosen up, but not enough that you were incapable of getting home. Hawks liked the way your hand rested on his forearm. How you smiled and laughed at something to show your interest but not at everything to show that you weren’t faking your amusement at what he was saying.

You matched his every word, not backing down from his bluffs. Soon enough, Hawks felt his cheeks warm when he finally looked directly at your smiling face (he wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or not).

Eventually, though, the night ended, and you shimmied off the bar stool as your friends had come to collect you to leave.

“Can I get your number?” you ask, eyes mostly entirely sober as you handed him your phone. “I know you were the man who was just a bit too fast, but I think I can handle that.”

Hawks snorts, his eyes rolling in his amusement, “That was horrible.”

“I’m drunk, I have an excuse!” you exclaim with a pout that quickly turns into a giddy smile as Hawks enters his number to your phone. “Don’t worry though, once I’m sober, I’ll flirt your eyebrows clean off!”

“That sounds painful!” Hawks yells as you wave goodbye, your arms linked with a line of other girls as you leave the bar with teasing laughter and undecipherable words.

It was with you that Hawks realized that he had come to find a new type of love.

Ludus, the love of flirtation and playfulness.

Damn, who would’ve known.

P H I L I A

Hawks was having a pretty bad day.

It wasn’t anything super terrible happening, all things considered. It was a lovely day out; the sun was warm, the sky so blue, and the birds chirping. Nothing on the news to be concerned about and all his precious people were safe.

But it was still a bad day because instead of being out and about with you, his now borderline best friend/girlfriend, who he was stupidly having a crush on, he was stuck at home.

Hawks was sick.

Deliriously, stuffy nose, goopy eyed, chapped lips, and feverish sick.

You: Are you sure you’re fine????

Hawks: Im perfectly okay. Ill go with you to the park next time sorry

You: Thats not what im concerned about stupid!!!!!

Hawks: Bye have fun!

You: I knoW YOURE SICK ASSHOLE

Hawks chuckled, rereading his messages with you.

Blowing his nose for what felt like the umpteenth time, Hawks resumed the movie on the screen that you had recommended him to watch — Disney’s Chicken Little — because it reminded you of him, or something like that. The TV droned on with the movie, and Hawks found it hard to keep focused as the Sandman danced on his head and whispered in his ear.

He hadn’t noticed he had fallen asleep until a loud banging was heard on his door.

Shuffling towards the door, Hawks opened the still slightly broken door with bleary eyes and a stuffy nose.

In front of him was none other than you.

You… with a basket full of things.

“Hi!” you greeted him, pushing past Hawks easily and walking into his apartment. “You look worse than I thought you would be!”

“That's hurtful,” Hawks pouted, closing the door behind you, sneezing, then following after you. “Why are you here? I thought you w-were — achoo — going to the park?”

“I was, but we were supposed to go together to check off number 184, and I wasn’t about to go alone to complete a list meant for you!” you exclaimed, dumping the overfilled basket on the kitchen counter.

“Mm,” Hawks hummed, his voice dry and cracking as he pulled the blanket closer around him. “What’s this?”

“A get well care basket,” you say in an unmistakable like tone; you glance at him, smiling widely, and gesture dramatically to the basket. “Follow along, if you can.”

“Pfft.”

“So first, I have some sleepytime tea; I swear to the gods and back that this tea will cure you and knock you the fuck out,” you say, pulling out the thing on top of the basket and putting it to the side. “Next, we have some tissues because you obviously need them.”

“Hey!”

Hawks watched through red-rimmed eyes as you carefully and thoroughly explained what and why you had brought him. Fuzzy socks, a blanket, his favorite snacks and drinks, medicine, DVD’s to more movies you told him he had to watch, an embarrassing childhood picture of you that he had been wanting and swore he would never expose least he wants to die, more oils for his diffuser, and a signed Endeavor poster he had been wanting.

Safe to say that after he had been drugged up, eating some soup and drinking some tea on the couch, wrapped up in the blanket you had bought him, laying between your legs, Hawks was feeling much, much better. It had been hours since Hawks had coughed or sneezed, and he was talking with you about how Disney movies were being produced less and getting sort of worse with each one. The movie titan slowly losing its ground.

“Okay, it’s almost eleven pm; I have work tomorrow, you are still sick, let's pack it up!” you eventually say during a moment of comfortable silence.

“I can’t believe you have to work,” Hawks sniffled, standing up off the couch so that you could get up. “Seems like a crime.”

“It’s not so bad! Being a celebrity PR manager is a million times easier than a hero PR manager. At least we can help decide what's seen!” you laugh, helping to clean up his living room of the bags of chips and drinks.

“Sure, sure,” Hawks grins, keeping the trashcan open for you so that you could place the trash in. “Thank you.”

Walking you towards the front door, Hawks comes to the sudden and almost alarming realization that he doesn’t want you to leave. He wants you to stay. He thought this was a friendship, and it was one, a good one at that! For about a month now, he had known that there was a type of love he had for you, one of friendship.

It was called philia.

So why did he want to keep you wrapped up in a hug, to pull you close and press a gentle kiss to your forehead, to your cheek, to your lips?

“—I’ll be back tomorrow to check up on you during my lunch break,” you say, slipping on your shoes as you pull on your jacket. “If you need anything at all, call or text—”

The words on your tongue die immediately when Hawks still slightly chapped lips press against yours. The sick must that was present earlier on the day is no longer there, and you can feel heat and fire bursting from your cells as Hawks pulls away from you.

“I’m sorry,” Hawks breathes out, a small smile on his face, a daze in his eyes that tells you he definitely was not completely sorry. “I couldn’t resist anymore?”

“W-We will talk about that later!” your voice squeaks, your heart hammering in your throat because fucking Hawks kissed you. “If I-I get sick, I’ll rip out your eyebrows!”

“Will you go out with me? On a date?” Hawks continues on, leaning on the doorframe you’ve yet to pass.

“...I hate you, yes,” you warble, hands pressing against your burning face as Hawks grin grows.

“Perfect, I’ll text you,” he allows you to pass through the doorway where you feel both entirely light and giddy yet awkward and mechanical.

“Hawks, I swear, if your stupid kiss got me sick!”

“You’ll rip out my eyebrows,” Hawks laughs, waving a hand. “If you rip out my eyebrows, I demand a kiss for every hair you pluck out.”

He laughs at how he can basically see the heat rising from your ears as you squawk and run away.

Looking at #184 of his book, Hawks smiles as he crosses it out (#184: Ask out your crush!) and sighs. Philia was love between friends, but it was also, if he remembered correctly, one of affection. And it was without saying that he held a deep affection for you.

E R O S

As much as Hawks claimed he knew about the world, he was as clueless as a newborn baby when it came to the topic of love. Reasoning? Well, today marked a year of being together. It had been a year since Hawks had kissed you when he was snot-nosed kissed (you did get sick, by the way, and while you didn’t rip out his eyebrows, Hawks had kissed you plenty in apology), and then took you on a date where you went to a trampoline palace.

He was clumsily romantic. More often than not, he wasn’t actually romantic. Still, the sincere thought and emotions he put into it made his actions seem so thoughtful and sweet.

You’re not sure why you actually believed that on your year anniversary, he was going to plan something for the two of you. So the reaction he had when you showed up on the year anniversary, armed with a bouquet of flowers and a small personal gift for him, Hawks looked deeply confused.

“This is still not bad!” you exclaim, watching as Hawks attempts to redecorate his apartment from the messy bachelor vibe into something of romance. It was easier said than done, especially as your boyfriend had no decorations in his house that wasn’t fanboy or bird material.

“I didn’t realize that one year anniversaries were meant to be out and about!” Hawks yelled back, failing to nail the fairy lights onto the ceilings. “I knew you wanted to do something, but I thought it was going to be like ‘let’s go get some KFC!’ sort of thing!”

“Definitely not,” you laugh, sitting on his couch with the take out food sitting on the table. It had just arrived, and Hawks was still not accepting the lack of romance in his apartment. “But it’s okay, really Hawks! I didn’t tell you, which is entirely my fault! Come on, let's watch something together, eat, and relax!”

Hawks sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

He should have known that one year anniversaries were a big thing in dating too. They sure were in businesses; what a rookie mistake. Not satisfied with the lack of romance in his apartment but also unable to do anything more to it, Hawks sulked over to the couch and sat beside you, grabbing his dinner plate.

“Thanks, dove.”

“You’re most welcome, baby vulture. Thank you for the food!” you grin, breaking the chopsticks and digging in.

The food is eaten with a mirthful conversation, the TV playing the 100 Funniest Hero Fails playing on Youtube. Eventually, the purples and pinks of the sky became dark.

Night is here.

Hawks went from sitting right beside you to lying on the couch and having you snuggled into his stomach at some point in the night. YouTube is no longer playing Hero Compilation videos. Still, it is now instead showing a chef with a giraffe quirk demonstrating how to make your very own pancake treehouse, no clickbait!

Hawks is transfixed on you, watching the way your eyes sparkle and shine as you stare up at the screen, your lips moving as you give your side commentary, but he can’t hear a thing.

Five weeks ago, on this day, was the day that Hawks realized that the philia love he had for you had evolved once again. It had become one of eros. Romantic, passionate love. He loved you; he loves you. Anything you wanted or needed in the world, Hawks would do anything to give it to you. He had yet to tell you said realization; after all, he needed to make sure it wasn’t some fluke but found himself chickening out each time he wanted to confess.

Gliding his thumb against your cheekbone, Hawks stared adoringly at you, head tilted as you laughed at the video before glancing up at him. It was evident that you hadn’t been expecting him to be staring at you so intensely. As soon as you glanced back at the TV, you snapped right back, curiosity blazing off your gaze.

“What’s up?” you asked, hands pressing to his chest as you lift up a bit. “Do I have something on my face?”

“I love you,” Hawks whispered, the words coming out so much easier than he thought it would. “Y/l/n y/n, I love you.”

Your eyes widen significantly, your jaw dropping as your eyes grow just a bit watery.

Hawks smiles softly, knowing that for so long you had told him you loved him without a single moment where he returned the affection. It hadn’t bothered you. Obviously, you knew why he didn’t say it, but finally hearing him say it seemed to break you just a bit in the best of ways. He kisses you softly, fingers wiping away the single tear that fell.

“I love you,” he repeats.

“I love you too, Hawks,” you blubber, your smile so bright yet wobbling with your heartfelt emotions.

“Takami Keigo,” Hawks corrects. “My name is Takami Keigo.”

Hawks watches as you process his name, and a wet laugh bubbles from your throat as you nod your head, hands reaching behind his neck to pull him close for the first soul-consuming, fiery kiss of the night.

“I love you, Keigo.”

If this wasn’t eros, well, then, Hawks didn’t know what it was.

P R A G M A

two years later, valentines day

Keigo sits on the bed, fingers adjusting the tie around his neck as he stares at you doing your makeup in the bathroom. Your eyes intensely concentrated on your reflection as you painted dark red lips on yourself.

To sum up the last two years in a single, simple phrase, Keigo would say that love now made even less sense to him.

It wasn’t precisely that it made perfect sense before. Some days he still argued and wondered about how love could exist in specific scenarios. Or why, after you stole his final KFC chicken leg he was saving, he could always love you after such betrayal. It made no sense to him, but also made perfect sense, hence the complete confusion.

But it was without saying that as you twirled in your outfit in front of him, a grin plastered so large and lovingly on your features, that it made sense.

How could he not love when he had someone like you.

The walk to the restaurant was perfect; he had even taken a moment to slow dance with you when you came across some performers. Your sweet smile meant just for him made Keigo hum contently as he kissed you gently.

Dinner was amazing. The food rich and luscious, entirely to die for that had the both of you moaning about how great it was before laughing because the waitress definitely heard that. After dinner was over, you and Keigo were now waiting on desserts when he simply grabbed your left hand and slid a simple ring over a very important finger before placing a kiss on your palm.

“I know I was at one point too fast, and maybe I think I was too slow to ask this, but would you like to wake up and have chicken with me every day?” Keigo asked, watching as your face went through a million stages of understanding, processing, internalizing, accepting, and pure emotions.

The kiss was sloppy and wet, the tears streaming down your face beautifully, like diamonds in the dark sky.

It was today that Keigo unlocked the last love he ever thought he would have.

Pragma: committed, enduring love.

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks fluff

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mochegato · 3 years

Text

Hope on Board

Chapter 13 - Round and Round We Go

Chapter 1 Chapter 12

“And this was his idea?” Adrien confirmed again.

Marinette rolled her eyes and pulled him along. “We worked on the details together, but yes, it was his idea to spend more time together. He knows you don’t trust him and he wants to try to earn your trust.”

“It isn’t that I don’t trust him…” Adrien pouted.

“Yes it is.” Marinette gave him a pointed look.

“I’m sure he’s great.” Adrien said politely. “He seems to make you very happy.”

Marinette stopped and brought Adrien’s eyes to hers. “Yes, he does. And he knows you’re both going to be very prominent in our,” she placed her hand over the baby bump, “lives so he wants to make friends. He wants everyone in our baby’s life to like each other.” She sighed. “He wants the baby to be completely surrounded by love if he can. That means you two have to get along and Damian and I have to get along.”

Adrien nodded and continued walking. “And do you think that’s possible?”

Marinette shrugged. “I think he’s going to be at least a little suspicious of me until the blood test and there’s nothing I can do about that. But I can push for our interactions to at least be amicable until then. I like him. You always know exactly where you are with him. He’s like some mad combination of Max and Alix. As analytical as Max and fiercely protective as Alix. Unaware of social convention like Max and painfully blunt like Alix.

“And I don’t think he hates me, he’s just vastly overprotective of his family, you know? I just need to keep that in mind. Approach it like if Alix didn’t know me and thought I did something to Kim. And, he doesn’t think I’m worthy of his brother, which I understand and kind of agree with.” She shoved Adrien before he could say anything. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m not maligning myself, I’m complimenting him.”

He rolled his eyes, “Fine.”

“And I think you two might have a lot in common, you and Damian. From what I’ve gathered from scattered comments here and there, Damian grew up in a really harsh environment. Lots of criticism, not a lot of love. Lots of expectations with little praise for him. Perfection expected, anything less punished.”

“Sounds rough,” Adrien nodded. He could empathize. That sounded familiar.

“Yeah. That was before Bruce took him. But things like that, they leave a mark, you know.”

“Yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “I really do.”

“Dick!” Marinette called out and waved to him.

Adrien smiled and waved politely. He was being ridiculous and he knew it. He had been ecstatic when they first discovered who the father was. He had only heard good things about Dick, which calmed him significantly. But as time passed, he had the chance to start thinking, or rather overthinking and worrying, panicking in other words. He didn’t know him, not really, just the public perception, but Chloe and Alya both said he seemed a bit too perfect. He seemed to be hiding something, but nobody could figure out what it was. And from Adrien’s experience, every time something seemed too perfect, it was. Every. Time.

Dick smiled back and waved before returning his focus to Damian. He laid a heavy hand on Damian’s shoulder and leaned close to him. “You will be respectful. Understood? She is the mother of your niece or nephew…”

Damian scoffed, “Tt.”

“Like that. That is not okay. She’s already agreed to a blood test, purely for you. I like her, Damian. You don’t need to, but you do need to be civil.”

Damian pushed Dick’s hand off his shoulder. “I can be civil with the grimalkin.”

Dick yanked Damian back toward him. “You will not speak that way about Marinette, understand? Even if she wasn’t the mother of my child, she wouldn’t deserve it. But she is the mother of my child, whether you believe it or not. I do. That is my child. That is my girlfriend. They are both going to be your family and you will not disrespect them like that if you want to be in our lives.”

Damian’s eyes flashed with a hurt expression before returning to a practiced coldness. “Understood,” he answered curtly.

Dick turned just in time to welcome Marinette with a hug and a kiss before extending a hand for Adrien. “Are you guys ready? Have you been to the arcade already?”

“No, but has Marinette wowed you guys with her gaming skills yet?” Adrien asked with a sly grin.

“No,” Dick’s smile grew as he turned to Marinette. “She mentioned being good at one game, I’ve forgotten the name of, but I didn’t know it was an overall skill. Been holding out on me?”

Marinette giggled and rolled her eyes. “Well there goes my chance to hustle you. You’ll think you’re ready for it now.”

“Think?” Dick raised an eyebrow at her.

“Oh, you’ll never be prepared,” she grinned cheekily and bopped him on the nose before walking away laughing.

“And I suppose you find that charming instead of condescending?” Damian asked stiffly.

“I think I’m in love,” Dick swooned chasing after her.

Damian scoffed. “If I’d said that, he’d have lectured me for an hour,” he muttered under his breath.

“It’s all in the delivery and the attitude,” Adrien commented falling into step beside him. Damian did a double take, not having expected Adrien to still be there or to have heard him.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Damian growled.

“I’m not offering,” Adrien answered casually.

“How about starting with a shooting game?” Dick offered. Damian perked up but deflated quickly seeing him standing next to a basketball themed game.

“I haven’t played basketball in years, that would be fun,” Adrien offered.

“You played basketball too? So did I,” Dick grinned at him. “Let’s see what you remember.”

The game was close but Dick just edged him out with a few more baskets. Adrien shrugged good-naturedly. “Eh, fencing was always more my speed anyway. I bet Marinette would kill at this though.”

Dick turned to Marinette with an excited smile and got the game set up for her. “You played basketball?”

“No, not even for fun,” she chuckled with a slight blush.

“Oh… did you want to still try?” The excitement in his voice was impossible to resist. He was so desperate for all of them to get along and have fun and she was going to do everything she could to help him achieve that.

“Absolutely.” The game wasn’t even close. Marinette destroyed him. “In your face!” She grinned up at him and cupped his face. “And such a pretty face it is.”

Dick pretended to pout at her before waggling his eyebrows. “You think my face is pretty?”

“So, you lied” Damian commented with narrowed eyes.

Marinette patted Dick’s cheek. “Not just pretty, gorgeous.” And turned to Damian, shaking her head. “No. I just have really good hand-eye coordination. Lots of practice with that. But I never played any sports outside of gym.”

“You should see her fence,” Adrien spoke up. “I gave her a few lessons and so did another of our friends and she was already really good. But, if she actually tried, she’d be amazing.”

Marinette scoffed. “Decent maybe. But not at Adrien or Kagami’s level. They are both really good. Adrien could have made the national team if he had wanted,” Marinette bragged. “Kagami did.”

“Damian does sword fighting!” Dick offered. “Maybe he could practice with you guys sometime.”

“Sword fighting is very different from fencing,” Damian deferred.

Adrien nodded. “It really is. Completely different skills. He would probably destroy me at sword fighting.”

“I could probably destroy you at fencing as well,” Damian responded calmly.

“Okay. Well then, bring it on little man,” Adrien chuckled. “I’d love to get the epee out again.”

Damian narrowed his eyes at him in response and Marinette laughed at the reaction causing him to switch his focus to her. “Your turn Damian. What do you want to play?”

Damian huffed and looked around. He really didn’t want to share his favorite games with them. But he did want to put them in their place, which meant destroying them in games, and his best chance of doing that was in the games he was best at. It was a Catch 22. Finally Dick made the decision for him. “Let’s play Cheese Viking. Damian is a wiz at that. I think he has all the high scores.”

“Oh, you must be amazing at that!” Marinette cooed.

After a few hours of playing different games, Damian trying to destroy them at each one, sometimes succeeding, sometimes not, they decided to get something to eat and take a walk around.

“Ooh, a carousel! Let’s go for a ride,” Marinette exclaimed excitedly.

Dick grinned and started heading to get in line. “That sounds like a lot of fun. You coming Damian?”

Damian scoffed at him and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not a child. I’m not immature enough to engage in such trivialities.” He gave Marinette a condescending look.

Dick gave Damian a dark look, but Marinette shrugged with a smile. “I am.” She turned to Dick with an unaffected smile. “You want to come or stay with Damian?”

“I’ll stay with him,” Adrien spoke up from behind Damian. “You guys go ahead.”

They watched as Marinette pulled Dick onto the carousel and found a pink unicorn to ride. Dick helped her get on it and stepped close so his arms were around her and the pole. The ride started with a jerk and Marinette let out a loud, light laugh that Dick quickly matched. They watched them go around a few times, seeing them staring into each other’s eyes with adoring smiles along with loving caresses.

Adrien finally spoke up gently. “I know you want to protect your family, but she doesn’t deserve the hostility. And I know you won’t listen to me, but as one overprotective brother to another, she isn’t your enemy.”

“She is just another undeserving, unworthy, desperate, pathetic person. Nothing I’ve seen so far has changed my mind.” Damian spoke plainly, not bothering to look back at Adrien.

Adrien’s whole body stiffened. When he finally spoke there was a base hostility and coldness in his voice he hadn’t used since he last spoke with his father. “You can’t even comprehend her life so far.”

Damian scoffed at him. Like this person could understand what Damian had been through.

“I don’t care if you’re Batman himself. I don’t care if you lost everything. I know you’ve gone through a lot. I don’t know what and neither does Marinette, just that you’ve had to go through unfair shit, too,” he hurried to correct seeing Damian’s reaction. “But you still can’t comprehend everything she’s done and risked for even strangers let alone the people she loves. How many times she stood between an akuma and someone who was too weak to protect themselves. How many times she got hurt. How many times she died. Hell, she doesn’t even remember. All to protect complete strangers who had nobody else. She’s a goddamned hero and quite frankly too good for your family,” he growled.

“Is there anyone this angel of yours isn’t too good for?” Damian taunted.

“No,” Adrien responded without hesitation.

“Why aren’t you dating her then?”

“Realizing someone is amazing and too good for this world doesn’t mean you would work in a romantic relationship. She’s more important to me than just a romance. She is my family. So is that baby. And now so is your brother. Just like she’s now yours. You need to come to terms with that.” He switched his focus to Marinette and Dick lost in their own world on the Carousel, eyes for each other only. The smile on her lips was the most joyful and carefree one he’d seen in years. He prayed it stayed that way.

“You don’t know what Dick’s had to go through, how much he’s suffered, how much he takes on. He’s too good for her.” Damian answered quietly.

Adrien nodded. “You’re right I don’t know. That’s why I’m giving him a chance.”

“I won’t let her hurt him,” Damian stated lowly.

Adrien nodded. “Nor him, her. Glad we could come to an understanding.” Damian glared at him but looked over to Dick as he and Marinette walked back over.

“Damn it!” Dick groaned as his phone sounded a distinctive ring.

“Maybe it isn’t bad?” Marinette tried.

“It’s always bad. When has it ever meant anything other than I had to leave?” He frowned as he answered the phone and walked a bit away from the group.

“Something up?” Adrien asked.

Marinette nodded with a sigh. “Night’s over. That’s work. He’ll have to go in for at least a few hours. Want us to take you home, Damian?”

Damian looked away with a frown. It wasn’t a scowl or a pointed comment, so Marinette was taking it as a win. “I’ll have Alfred come pick me up.”

Marinette nodded with an understanding smile that rubbed Damian the wrong way. Why did she have to be so understanding? “Okay. We’ll wait with you until he arrives.”

“That is not necessary, I assure you.” Damian responded coldly. “I can take care of myself.”

“Maybe but it isn’t only about you. I’m sure you can take care of yourself, but it’s a family’s job to worry about each other. It’s more for them than for you.” Marinette explained. “So they aren’t worried.”

Damian nodded curtly, accepting her explanation.

“Does this happen a lot?” Adrien asked.

“Dick having to go into work?” She asked with a surprised look. Adrien nodded. Marinette looked over to where he was talking to consider her answer. “I guess… yeah. It’s happening more frequently lately, I think. But then again, we’re together more now so maybe I’m just now noticing. But he tries to get back as soon as he can. Nothing you can do about emergencies. At least he doesn’t zone out at work and forget we have a date until he comes and gets me, like I have.” She shrugged.

Adrien frowned at her explanation. It was starting to sound all too familiar. A parent working all the time, leaving in the middle of family time, or not even showing up for it because they were too busy with something more important. He prayed he was wrong. Dick did seem to really be invested in Marinette and their baby… but then again so had his Dad.

Chapter 14

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123

#maribat #Dickinette February #dickinette #platonic jasonette #platonic adrienette #Hope on Board #Knocked Up AU #prompt - carousel

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kannra21 · 3 years

Text

Sniperhaul fanfic

ˡᵐᵃᵒ ᶦ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᶦᵉᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶦ'ᵐ ᵈᵒᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᶦˢ

Overhoe finally broke out of Tartarus after a very long time. However, he couldn't have done it without the help of a certain villain mistress. 😏 Who's she and why did she choose to help this terrible (x2) man? Find out bellow.

characters: overhaul (chisaki kai) x sniper lady

word count: 3k

warnings: angst, past memories, handless overhaul, hurt, comfort, gangs, yakuza, just girl taking care of her mans

notes: I'd like to thank the person responsible for proofreading this work bc I'm supposed to keep their identity a secret. 😎 Thank you once again! And of course, the manga and characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi. @meefal you were excited to see the final product so here you go, hope you like it. 🖤

✂-------------------------------------------------------

Overhaul couldn't remember how long he'd been there, he'd lost count weeks ago. The only thing he knew was that he was in "Tartarus", a prison located 5km off the coast of the Mainland. It may function like a conventional prison, but in reality, those who're deemed a severe threat toward the safety of the nation were locked up and monitored closely, regardless of whether their sentence has been decided on yet. The facility was divided into 6 levels, where the potential threat level of criminals was deemed "higher" the further underground you go. It's a prison where, once you enter, there's no chance of leaving.

He sat there in his cell, B10 being the lowest level in solitary confinement. It was too cold for his head to function and too dark for his eyes to see, with the small window above the prison doors being his only source of light. There was also an opening where prisoners received their meals, but considering that he lost his hands, the guards could easily enter without worrying too much for their well-being. They'd leave whatever they offered that day and give him a disgusted look before locking the doors after themselves. He couldn't see his reflection nor touch his face, he probably looked like crap by now. His skin was itching and he felt disoriented from all the germs occupying this space, it's been a while since he's gone out for some fresh air.

He was practically Quirkless and yet they locked him out in the worst, most dreadful place the isolation block had to offer. He couldn't even feed himself properly, he couldn't do anything by himself whatsoever. But there was only one thing left to him; he spent days and days thinking about pops, Chrono, yakuza and everything he could have if it weren't for those stupid heroes-- no, if it weren't for his plan that so grandiosely failed. It made him feel miserable, desperate even, and with grief soon followed acceptance. It was all his fault, and he needed to live with this burden for the rest of his life. Because of him, pops is still handicapped to the bed somewhere, wherever the heroes might have taken him.

He stood up and started beating the cell with his leg, curing his frustrations. He didn't know why he was doing it, it was irrational and he's hurting himself unnecessarily, but for some reason it made him feel lighter. At least he could transfer some of his inner pain to the outside world. Other criminals laughed at his patheticness, especially since they knew why the guards were allowed to enter his cell. They shouted that it was impossible to escape, but he wasn't trying to. He knew that it was useless a long time ago.

Midnight came and all the prisoners mostly fell asleep. Overhaul, however, couldn't sleep a wink. Because of the dark room he spent most of his days in, he lost his sense of time so he was pacing around, deep in thought. He couldn't dream of anything nice anyways.

"Can't fall asleep either?" a feminine voice could be heard from the other side. Wait. They allowed women here? What could she have possibly done to deserve such punishment?

He leaned his back on the doors and slid down to the floor, trying to find the right words.

"Yes." he sighed, enthusiasm lacking in his voice "But it's not like I need you to talk about my problems."

"Hm, whatever. Go beat your head against the bars. Fall unconscious, loser."

The man snorted, which might as well be his first time he ever did that.

"Well, this certainly sounds effective. It's not like I have anything to lose anyways."

"Hey." the tone of her voice was earnest, and it aroused further questions in his jumbled up head.

"What?"

"We're going to get out of here."

Is she being serious now? "Really? Because as far as I know, we're locked out here for good. We don't even know the severity of our sentences. They can do whatever they want with us."

"Not quite. You know that they're being supervised by 'The Hearts and Mind' party offshoots. They can’t do a thing to us as long as they have their heads to the pikes."

This might be true, but he didn't believe in anything the government's been telling them lately. It's only a matter of time before they switch their plans and play by their own rules, because stabbing people in the back was the only thing they've ever been good at.

"How did you end up here?"

Oh the long-awaited question. She wondered when he'd ask.

"It's not like I need you to talk about my problems."

He smiled, he liked this vicious side of hers. But he also realized that she could be nice as well because if that wasn't the case, she wouldn't spread promises of the escape. At least that's what he thought.

"Sorry about that."

"It's okay. We've all been here for a very long time, now weren't we? We lose our cool and act like total assholes."

"Direct and straight to the point I see." his deadpan voice could be heard from the other side of the bars.

"'Been raised this way, for the better or worse." it didn't sound like she was bragging, yet it felt like she was just talking about herself, honest and confident, to cover up what she felt was wrong. The incoming topic which she'd rather avoid.

The villainess didn't want to open up about her past, so she just answered his question.

"I killed people beyond counting, following AFO's orders. He always wished to become the world's greatest demon lord and thus promised us enormous change in the hero society. So in order to achieve that, he needed his underlings. And that's how I ended up here."

"You were loyal till the end."

"You know what they say; there can be no progress nor achievement without certain sacrifice."

Wise beyond her years and just as sad. He wondered how her face looked like, how the world's been treating her.

"I had my own sacrifices as well."

"Do you regret them?"

...

"I do."

Now it was her turn to snort "Really? And I thought that people situated this low couldn't have regrets. You remember what they said about us. 'Beasts in human clothing', 'Simply dreadful beings'."

He felt insulted, maybe the things she said were true but it's not like he was anything similar to these pigs he shared the same air with, unfortunately.

"I regret hurting the person important to me. The old man who once took me in when I was very young. He was the infamous boss of Shie Hassaikai."

Something clicked in her, it's such a small world they're living in, "Yakuza? I know you guys. We used to trade with you back in the days."

"Todou Gang?"

"You said it."

"But... you were a force to be reckoned with. One day you just collapsed and not a single trace could be found. According to certain sources, there was no way anyone could determine the exact cause of your downfall. So what happened?"

"I killed them all."

...

"AFO told me to kill them to prove my loyalty to him and, of course, to make sure that there was no one I could turn to other than himself."

For some questionable reasons, and he didn't dare to admit that it was empathy he felt towards a random stranger and a former gang member he shared some history with, Overhaul wanted to fill the silence that lingered between them. Perhaps, because he felt guilty for making her reveal more than what she initially intended.

"I used pops' niece, a 6-year-old girl who had an extraordinary Quirk; it allowed her to rewind a person's body back to a certain state. That means she could put a body back to before it was injured or before the person even developed a Quirk. With that, I wanted to create a Quirk-erasing drug to get rid of the Quirk society altogether and to make sure that yakuza could rise once again. I cut her skin every day to take blood samples and to test her regenerative abilities. However, pops didn't approve of it, so I handicapped him to the bed and planned on waking him up the moment I realized my plan, to make him proud of the achievement. Unfortunately, it didn't play out as I wanted and I never reached him."

The silence followed and the woman wore a disheartening smile on her face. It's not the answer she expected, she didn't ask for another sad story from another messed up person she's met in her life. But the intentions were pure and for her, it was good enough.

"We both fought for something only to lose it all, huh?" she laughed, but it was prominent in her tone that it was bittersweet.

"At least you're brought here in one piece."

"At least you can still revive your parent."

Were they comforting each other? Were they jealous of each other? Were they wallowing in self-pity? They couldn't tell. The only thing they certainly could was the embarrassment they felt from the moment they realized that some of the prisoners were eavesdropping and making fun of their vulnerabilities. See? That's what they hated the most about opening up about themselves; they were worried about their feelings being perceived as a joke. The only way to protect themselves was to rise up the walls and never let anyone get closer, except they didn't regret exchanging a word or two, as long as it was the two of them.

The next day, 8:34PM Mainland-side entrance, the guardians of 'The Bronze Gate' announced a code red security lockdown. Panic and shouting could be heard from across the hall and the security alarm announced the potential danger.

"Close any and all passageways on each floor. All workers are to enforce strict measures to maintain order."

"The surveillance system is down! It seems like we've been hit by some sort of EMP attack!"

Static waves were spreading around the metal frames and the prison doors of the isolation block unlocked. Overhaul could hear the commotion outside and the villains leaving their cells in a hurry, but as much as he tried, he couldn't push the heavy doors open.

"3 seconds until we're back online- wait... What the... With the system down we can't monitor the inside!"

"Nice, 3 seconds be damned." he beat the door with his legs, pushed the surface with his shoulders, leaned all of his weight on the godforsaken thing just so it could finally open. Nothing. It seems like he lost a couple of pounds during his stay here. He couldn't believe his eyes, this couldn't be happening to him. After all this time of patient waiting and hoping to meet pops once again, it turns out he'd be the only one still trapped and all because he didn't have any hands. He panicked, he really couldn't decide on what to do next. But then he remembered-

"Go beat your head against the bars, loser."

That's it! This might be his only chance to escape! He didn't have much time left though, he could hear the shooting nearby so he definitely needed to hurry.

"The system won't come back on!! The ones in solitary confinement are breaking out!! Inside!"

"Control unit's on site!! Execute lockdown in the isolation block!"

"Follow procedure! If even one of them steps a foot outside their cell-"

"Fire!! Open fire!!"

Muscular threw whatever he could find in this messed up place back at them, excitement prominent in his big smile "You ain't gonna kill me with those puny toys! So how about you show me the exit already?!"

Other villains were joining him, still overwhelmed by the sudden freedom they've been given "Dammit... After all that time..."

"Meat..." Moonfish mumbled as he cut his opponents with his blade-like teeth.

The villain lady joined them in the run, still carefully examining her surroundings in case they were tricked into something, "The system isn't responding to my Quirk. 'Guess Tartarus really is falling."

As she was running down the corridor, she could hear beating noises coming from one of the doors. It sounded dull so the person must have been using their head.

"Eh, don't tell me the idiot actually listened to my advice. He must be desperate."

She came to the doors and turned the circular lock in a hurry. She really didn't want to stay in this place any longer, but she couldn't leave him behind either. It's not like she could use him for anything since he was basically handless and Quirkless so why was she doing it? She didn't have an answer. Maybe it was their talk from the other day, maybe because they were both gang members with a history, maybe because of her regrets and her wish to do something right for once. Or maybe because she was just this kind. Nah, this couldn't be it, she never did anything in her life that didn't require a certain purpose. She cast her heart aside a long time ago and did what was necessary for the accomplishment of the mission. It would be weird if she suddenly started using her heart again, now wouldn't it? She was AFO's personal assassin, there was simply no way.

He came out of the room with eyes wide in puzzlement. He was finally free and ready to find pops so he could possibly revive him and try to fix things as much as he could.

They looked at each other for the first time. They never said it aloud, godforbid, but they liked the other's eyes. And perhaps the eyes were a window to a person's soul, their broken souls, tormented by the life's temptations. They were still so young, probably in their twenties, and yet they looked older at the same time. Maybe because of the seriousness in their faces, their stronger stance, the way they defied their fate. They were destined to fall apart, no one would argue with it, but circumstances drove them to take action and rise from the bottomless chasm. And now they had each other.

"We need to get out of here," she stated and pulled him by the sleeve that hung loosely from his shoulder. They escaped Tartarus and raided a small shop near the coast to change clothes and to mingle into the public unnoticed. She quickly picked out a dress and threw herself at work while Overhaul was still standing by the shop display, looking out for the potential intruders.

He couldn't erase the thought of this being some sort of a really weird first date; the girl coming out of the stall and the guy examining her looks. He shook his head, he never had this kind of thoughts in his entire life. He needed to pull himself together.

The bob-hair came out and adjusted the ammo on her utility belt. He looked at her from the corner and she was stunning; intimidating with a tad bit of femininity in design. He stood there and watched how good it fit her curvy form. The thoughts wandering in his head sounded so wrong, terribly wrong. He needed to bring himself to stop.

"Oh right, I almost forgot." she took a shirt off the shelf and came to him, showing him the garment in her hands "You need a little help, right?"

"Sure.'' his voice was small and he stood still while she undid his buttons. Maybe from the outside he looked completely calm, but from the inside he was a complete mess. He looked at her face and wondered if she knew, the kind of effect she's having on him. She raised her head and he looked to the side, there's no way he could look her in the eyes at this point. He hoped she didn't notice.

"You like this one, don't you?" she asked, filling the awkward silence.

"Looks don't matter, the most important thing is to change and avoid getting caught." She looked annoyed. Great. He wanted to shove his head though the wall. Wait… Why was he thinking that?

"I choose the clothes I like. It makes me feel better in my skin."

"You look good in it."

She looked at him surprised and he quickly corrected himself "the dress looks good."

"Sure." she trailed off and put the new shirt over his shoulders. She could feel his muscles tensing. This was probably because of the cool air, she assured herself.

"Why did you break me out of Tartarus? It's not like I could be of any use to you."

She buttoned up his shirt and fixed the wrinkled parts on the garment, hand accidentally brushing over the left side of his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

Well... that was a surprise.

"I thought that maybe you could be of some use to the demon lord. Not Quirk-wise, but you may offer a valuable set of information. Something that the demon lord would appreciate greatly." she could feel it slowing down and her heart dropped just as much.

"But also because I... liked you."

He looked at her incredulously and she smiled. She pinched him to bring him out of the trance and he complained. "Don't be awkward, say something."

"I like you too... I, this is my first time I ever said this to anyone. It's weird."

She slapped him gently on the shoulder and he reached to take it but, yea, no hands.

"What the hell?"

"You're the one who's weird. But I guess that I like you this way." she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek "Ew, you should definitely shave though. No doubt about it."

The former yakuza boss swore; he'll never understand women. But for some reason he couldn't deny that he was particularly drawn to this one. He wondered if pops would approve of her.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #overhaul #chisaki kai #sniperhaul #shie hassaikai #ch 311 #bnha spoilers #bnha fic #crack ship #parody

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americasass91 · 4 years

Text

Revenge on Ransom

So since I had so much fun writing my last fic, I just had to indulge on another one! This one is starring everyone’s favorite Mean Sweater Murder Daddy, Ransom! I didn’t intend for it to be this long. But I’m really quite happy with how it came out! Let me know what you think! Thank you so much for reading!! This is of course for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817 #shamelesshoesforchris

Prompts:

“Please don’t go”

“Don’t you dare take another step”

Words:5.4k

Rating:Explicit(I mean come on, it’s Ransom)

Warnings:Smut, Angst, Embarrassment, Ransom being an asshole as usual

“A threesome.”

You scoff and roll your eyes while continuing to rub circles on your lover’s taut stomach.

“Of course you’d say a threesome. Such a typical male response.”

“What? You asked me what some of my fantasies were and that’s one of them sweetheart.”

You prop yourself up on your elbow and glance down at the unfairly attractive man below you.

“At least be original with your fantasies. And besides, you expect me to believe that you, Hugh Ransom Playboy Drysdale, have never had a threesome?” You quirk your eyebrow as you look at his stupidly handsome face in disbelief.

He smirks at you. “Believe it, sweetheart. I mean I’m aware I’m a sex god, but I’ve never divulged into more than one woman at a time.”

You once again roll your eyes. “Okay pretty boy, whatever you say.” You lay your head back down on his chest, enjoying this rare moment of cuddling between you 2. Yeah sure you guys were, well whatever you were, you still never put a label on it. But Ransom usually didn’t spend a lot of time cuddling.

“What about you, baby girl? What’s another fantasy of yours. Besides tying me up, which won’t be happening anytime soon.” He starts running his fingers through your hair, instantly making your eyes droop. You adored when someone played with your hair.

You did have another fantasy in mind. You were debating on whether or not you wanted to share. It was rather different. Then again the last time you had revealed one of your fantasies to him (public sex) it led to the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced. It also led to you getting kicked out and banned from Saks Fifth Avenue.

You’d never had this fantasy before, it was all his fault really. With his stupid toned, body. And his stupid bulging biceps. And his stupid handsome face. God you really hated him sometimes.

“Okay, I’ll tell you. But you should know I’ve never had this fantasy until I met and started sleeping with you. So, it’s your fault really.”

He smirks down at you. “Well go on and share with the class, baby girl.”

You look away from him and stare down at your hand that’s rested on his toned stomach. “Okay, so I know this might sound crazy but I’m super attracted to your arms. Like they really do it for me. So one of my fantasies is riding your bicep.” Your voice got quieter near the end of your admission.

His fingers stop running through your hair. You tense up waiting for his reaction. You chance a glance up at him. He’s staring at the ceiling, no expression on his face.

Next thing you know you feel his chest start to shake. He starts laughing uncontrollably. He has tears in his eyes. He reaches up to clutch his pec. You’ve never seen him laugh this hard before.

You feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment and you start untangling yourself from him. You just want to go crawl in a hole and die. You knew you should’ve just kept it to yourself. You feel his hand grab your wrist.

“Oh c-come on, sweet-sweetheart. You don’t h-have to leave.” He tries telling you in between fits of laughter. You yank your hand away and grab your clothes, standing to pull them on.

He finally realizes you're actually going to leave and stands up and gets in front of you. “I’m sorry baby girl, it just caught me off guard. Plus it’s just stupid. Really? You get to have my cock and you want to ride my bicep?”

You look up at him, cheeks still flushed red. “Sorry but you asked. Can we just forget I said anything? Go back to how it was before?”

He reaches forward and grabs your hip and pulls you closer to him, dropping a kiss to your forehead. “Sure thing, my strange little girl.”

“You’re not going to tell anybody about this right? I know you like to brag to your friends about our sex life. Kyle is still giving me shit about getting kicked out of Saks.”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone about your stupid fantasy, Y/N. Now can we please just go back to bed? I wasn’t quite done with you yet. Please don’t go.” He tries pushing you towards the bed but you reach up your hand and push against his chest.

“I can’t Ransom, I’ve got to go home and start on my thesis. I’ve been here for 3 days now. I can’t keep putting it off.” You walk around him and grab up the rest of your stuff.

“Oh, so since I won’t let you indulge on your stupid fucking fantasy of riding my arm, you’re leaving. That’s a real bitch move, sweetheart.” He brushes past you and slams the door shut to his bathroom.

You stand there in disbelief. You really did need to go home and work on your thesis. And yes part of you was leaving a little earlier than planned but you didn’t really feel like being laughed at and judged anymore.

“God you are such a prick!” You scream at the closed door. You turn and stomp your way down the stairs and grab your coat and purse by the front door and slam it behind you.

You don’t hear from Ransom for 4 days. Which honestly you’re surprised you hear from him this early. Usually when you guys fight, you’re the one texting or calling him first. And yes you are aware of how pathetic that is but you love the douchebag, unfortunately.

Just as you’re taking a break from your thesis to watch a little Netflix, your phone starts to ring. You glance at the screen and are surprised to see Ransom’s number.

“Hello?” You pick up after the fourth ring.

“Hey, sweetheart. Listen I just wanted to apologize about how I acted when you had to leave. I’m sorry. I know your thesis is important and I was being selfish. Is there any way you can find it in your heart to forgive me?”

You have a few thoughts that run through your head. First thought, you wondered if this was really Ransom. You pulled your phone away from your ear and double checked the number. Yep it was him. The Second thought was while the apology was really sweet, you noticed he didn’t say anything about your little reveal to him. That was fine. Maybe he was respecting your wishes and pretending it didn’t happen.

“Thank you Ransom, your apology means a lot. I’ll forgive you.” You head into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Thank you sweetheart. I miss you. How is your thesis going?”

“Great, I’m actually taking a break for the day, I don’t want to burn myself out.” You head into the living room and plop down on the couch, grabbing the remote to get Netflix ready.

“That’s a good idea, beautiful. So does that mean I can see my girl tonight?” He sounds hopeful as he asks.

“Sure, your place or mine?”

“Actually some of the guys wanted to get together tonight and they are bringing their significant others so I was hoping you would want to come with me?” Once again sounding hopeful.

“Sure, it would do me some good to get out of the house. What time?” You glance at the clock on your wall and see that it’s 3:30.

“They want to meet up around 7 if that works for you? I could come over now and help you...relax.” You can just feel his smirk through the phone.

“As amazing as that sounds I really need to try to get a nap in. I’ve been working on my thesis non stop and haven’t gotten much sleep, is it ok if you just pick me up later? I’ll stay the night with you to make up for it.” You grab the blanket off the back of your couch and get comfortable.

“Sure, sure sweetheart. You go ahead and get plenty of rest. You’ll need it for when I get you home later.” He all but growls into the phone.

You clench your thighs together in anticipation. “Sounds good handsome, I’ll see you around 6:30?”

“Yeah, sounds good baby. Get some sleep, I love you.”

Once again you pull the phone away from your ear, Ransom rarely ever tells you he loves you. Sure he shows it, ok sometimes he does, but he rarely ever says it. He must feel really bad about how he treated you.

“Love you too, babe. Goodnight.” You hang up and set an alarm for 5 so you’ll have plenty of time to get ready. You put Friends on Netflix and drift off into a peaceful sleep.

You arrive at the bar with Ransom at around 6:50. Ransom helps you out of his Beemer and practically drags you inside. “Whoa, is there a fire? What’s the rush?” You say as you almost trip through the door.

He stops and looks back at you. “Sorry, Y/N.The last one to show up always has to pay the bill.” He turns his head and searches the bar for his friends.

“It’s not like you can’t afford it. Oh look there they are!” You smile and wave at them as you start walking towards the table. You actually don’t hate his friends entirely. Kyle is here with his girlfriend Kate and Todd is here with his fiancée Lily.

You quickly grab a seat next to Kate, she’s become a real good friend of yours. You wrap her in a hug. You say hi to everyone and turn to see Ransom standing there looking at you. “Hey babe, you gonna sit?”

“Yeah, just going to go get us some drinks first. What’s your poison tonight sweetheart?” He asks as he shrugs out of his coat and hangs it on the back of the chair next to you.

“Hmmm. I think an amaretto sour sounds amazing.” You smile up at him and he nods and heads to the bar. You turn back to Kate. “So are we the last ones to arrive?”

She laughs. “Nope, we are still waiting for Zac to show up. So everyone can thank him for the drinks tonight!” You inwardly cringe. Zac was the one friend of Ransom’s you couldn’t stand. You thought Ransom was a trust fund prick baby. Nothing compared to Zac. He walked around assuming his shit didn’t stink. You had asked Ransom once why he was still friends with him and Ransom just shrugged and said he was his longest friend. Going all the way back to childhood. So you put up with him for your boyfriends sake.

Ransom comes back with your drinks at the same time Zac shows up. He greets everyone and settles down right across from you. “Hello, Y/N. Nice to see you again.” He gives you a wink that makes you try your best not to throw up in your mouth. Ransom puts his arm around you and starts talking with Zac about some sports team or something. You’re not quite sure. You turn your attention to Kate as you, her, and Lily get into a discussion about the current gossip of the town.

About 2 amaretto sours later and it was just you and Kate left at the table. Todd and Lily left around 9:30, needing to get home to relieve their babysitter. And the rest of the guys were currently playing pool.

“So how have you and Ransom been doing? I remember you said the last time you guys were fighting a lot.” Kate asks as she takes another sip of her third cosmo.

“We’re doing great actually. Not fighting as much. I’ve been staying over a lot. So you know we haven’t been sleeping that much.” You giggle as you take another sip. Kate giggles with you, knowing how insatiable Ransom can be what with all the stories you’ve told her.

“Not gotten kicked out of any more stores have you?” She teases. “Oh my god that was one time!” You groan. “And totally worth it.” You wink at her as you look towards the guys. Ransom looks up at you and bites his bottom lip. Uh oh. You know that look. The last time he looked at you like that, you ended up pinned between him and the bathroom wall. Not that you minded.

“I’ve gotta go to the bathroom, babe. I’ll be right back.” Kate tells you as she grabs her bag and heads towards the back of the bar where you know the restrooms to be. You grab your phone and start mindlessly scrolling through Insta.

You hear the chair pull out from beside you. “Well hello there gorgeous, why are you over here all by yourself?” You turn and see Zac leaning casually against the table, looking at you expectantly. “Oh, I’m just waiting on Kate to get back. Are you having fun playing pool?” You ask trying to be polite while silently praying he’ll leave you alone.

“Nah, they aren’t much fun to play against. I already kicked their asses.” He smirks as he scoots just the tiniest bit closer to you. You glance over at the pool table and see Kyle and Ransom hanging up their cues, getting ready to head back. You inwardly sigh in relief. “Well that’s nice.” You don’t really know what else to say to him.

Kyle and Ransom make their way back over and sit across from you and Zac. You smile at Ransom and try to silently tell him you’re ready to go. He just brushes you off and turns to Kyle, engaging him in another sports conversation. You roll your eyes and smile once you see Kate coming back.

“Hey boys, done playing already?” She wonders as she takes her seat back beside you. “We were tired of getting our asses kicked by Zac here.” Kyle jokingly says as he takes a swig of his beer. You get ready to turn back towards Kate when Zac puts a hand on your shoulder and leans closer.

“You know I’d let you ride my arm if you wanted hot stuff.” Your eyes immediately go wide as the table goes silent. You can’t seem to tear your gaze away from your hands. “What the hell Zac, that’s a fucking weird thing to say. Even for you.” Kate says disgustedly, glancing at you and seeing your expression.

“Well just ask her, it’s a fantasy of hers. One Ransom doesn’t want to participate in. So I thought I would offer up my services.” He starts chuckling, squeezing your shoulder a little harder. Kate looks at you with an odd expression. “What’s he talking about, Y/N? Is that really one of your fantasies?”

“That’s fucking weird.” You hear Kyle mutter under his breath. “What kind of freak are you dating, Ransom?” He turns towards Ransom with a chuckle. Ransom looks at him and starts chuckling himself. “I don’t know man, we were talking about fantasies the other night and she told me that was one of hers.”

You honestly couldn’t believe that he was sitting there talking to Kyle like you weren’t even in the room. You could feel the stupid tears start to well up. You had to get out of there before they fell. You push your chair back and grab your coat and purse. Ransom stands up with you. “Oh come on, baby. It’s funny! We can all laugh about this!”

You were having a hard time finding humor at your expense. You asked him specifically not to tell anybody and he fucking did it anyway. And to Zac of all people! God what an asshole.

You don’t even spare him another glance as you head for the entrance. “Y/n? Are you ok? You’d don’t deserve to be treated that way.” You turn around and see Kate standing there with a worried look on her face. “I’m fine, I just can’t be around him right now.” You see Ransom hurriedly coming toward you. “I’ve gotta go.”

You run outside and look around for a cab. Of course you don’t see any. “Y/N! Where are you going?” You start walking down the street. You know if you look back at him you’ll start crying. God what an asshole. You can’t believe he told your secret.

“Y/N! Will you stop acting like a bitch and come here so we can talk?” Oh, now you were pissed. You whip around and find him still a couple feet away from you. “Excuse me? I’m acting like a bitch? You’re the one who told your perverted friend my fantasy about you. What does that make you?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh my god why are you so upset about that? I told him because it’s fucking hilarious! My pathetic, dumb baby is so turned on by me she wants to hump my fucking arm. It’s one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard. Of course I had to tell someone!” He starts walking closer to you.

You take a step back for every step he takes towards you. “No Ransom it’s not fucking funny! You fucking asked me what fantasies I had and as my partner, I trusted you enough to tell you. I thought I could confide in you. That we shared something but clearly I was fucking wrong.”

“Dear god what is wrong, are you on the rag or something? Is that why you’re so upset?” He had at least stopped moving towards you.

Well that pissed you off even more. “Jesus fucking Christ. I’m dating a fucking child. Correction, WAS dating a child. Not any more I’m not!” You turn around and stomp down the street. Now more pissed than anything.

“Don’t you walk away from me, sweetheart!” He had now caught up to you and grabbed your arm, turning you towards him. “You don’t get to turn your back on this relationship!”

“What relationship Ransom! If I can’t trust you with a secret that I specifically told you not to tell anyone then what do we have? You promised you wouldn’t say anything. And on top of all that, you made me feel so stupid to even have those feelings in the first place!” You can feel the tears again. You yank your arm away.

“You expect me to not laugh and not make fun of your stupid fantasy when it’s something as stupid as humping my arm?” He throws his hands in the air, looking at you like you’re insane.

“Yes Ransom I do! Because I seem to remember a few months ago you confided in me that you wanted me to fuck you with a strap on and did I laugh or judge you? No!”

Ransom looks around wildly. “Jesus, will you shut the fuck up about that! I don’t want people knowing that!”

“Why not? It’s ok for you to judge me and make fun of me for a fantasy but it’s not ok for me to tell people YOU LIKE TO SOMETIMES GET FUCKED IN THE ASS?” You screamed the last part as loud as you could. Looking past him to see Kate laughing so hard that Kyle had to hold her up. Zac just gives you both a look of disgust.

“Fuck you, Y/n. We’re done!” Ransom turns around and starts walking away. “THANK GOD! AND HEY I WANT MY STRAP ON BACK.” You smirk triumphantly and head the opposite way down the street. Ready to go home and cry your frustrations out.

It’s been about 2 weeks since your whole ordeal with Ransom. According to Kate, he’s been miserable. Good that made you feel a bit better.

You hated that in spite of everything, you missed him. You were in love with him. Those feelings weren’t just going to go away anytime soon. He tried calling and texting you. You didn’t have the energy to answer.

You were currently working on your thesis when you hear a knock on your door. You get up and open it assuming it’s Kate. She had been checking on you every other day. Instead you meet the blue eyes of your ex.

“Hello, Hugh. What do you want?” You cross your arms over your chest and stand in the doorway so he can’t get inside.

You see him wince when you call him by his first name. “I just wanted to talk, Y/N. Can I come in? Please?” You stand your ground. “No, whatever you want to say to me you can say it here. Go ahead.” You raise your eyebrows expectantly. Waiting to see what pathetic excuse he has.

He sighs. And that’s when you look at him a little closer. His hair isn’t as neat as it usually is. His eyes are red. From crying or not sleeping, you can’t tell. Your resolve breaks just a little. “I just wanted to apologize. Do I have to do it from the hallway?”

You sigh and step aside, letting him in. “Fine, you have 5 minutes.” You tell him as you head towards the kitchen counter and lean against it.

He nods his head. “That’s fair. First off I just want to tell you how sorry I am. I’ve thought a lot about everything these past few weeks and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m an asshole.”

“Wow it took you the full 2 weeks to realize that huh?” You knew you were being a bitch, you didn’t care. He deserved it.

“I deserved that too. But what I’m mostly sorry for is how I treated you. You were completely right. It wasn’t fair of me to make fun of your secret. And to tell Zac. Whom I’m no longer friends with by the way. Not after he hit on you like that.” He makes eye contact with you and cautiously takes a step forward.

“I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart. I should’ve come after you as soon as you turned away from me. I regret that the most. Because despite what you believe, I do love you, Y/N. So damn much. These past few weeks have been hell. I can’t sleep without feeling you next to me. I know I’m asking for a lot here but is there any way we can start over? It’s killing me not having you in my life. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I can't let you go. You’re too important.”

By now you have tears falling, but so does he. You’ve never seen him cry in front of you before. God you hate him! You don’t want to forgive him that easily but you also want to go and hug him and soothe him until he stops crying.

“I don’t know, Hugh. You really hurt me.”

“I know baby, I know. Let me make it up to you. I’ll never betray your trust again, I promise.” He puts his hand over his heart and stares at you hopefully.

You can feel your walls breaking down. Dammit.

“Okay Ransom. But this is the last time, I swear to God.”

You’ve never seen a smile that big grace his face. He strides towards you and grabs your face. “Thank you, baby. You won’t regret this.” He tilts his head until his lips are touching yours. You smile into the kiss and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him a bit closer. “You want to watch a movie with me?” You ask as you pull away.

He nods. “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

You head over to the couch together and get comfortable. You’re leaning into his side with his arm around your shoulders. You finally find a movie you think you’ll both enjoy and hit play.

You both last about 40 minutes before the making out starts. You started it. You couldn’t help it. It’s been 2 weeks too long. You’re now straddling him with your hands fisted in his hair. You grind down on his evident bulge and get a groan from him. He has his hands on your hips, moving you harder down on to him. “Baby, should we move this to the bedroom?” He whispers in your ear as he moves his lips down your neck. You quickly hop off of him and skip to the bedroom. Not even bothering to see if he’s following, knowing damn well he’s right behind you.

He turns and shuts your bedroom door and saunters over towards you. He grabs your hips and pulls you against him. He goes in for another kiss but you put your hand up to his mouth. He pulls back with a confused expression.

“You know if you’re really sorry, you’ll let me indulge in a fantasy.” You smirk up at him. “Oh yeah, what did you have in mind, beautiful girl?” He asks as he starts nipping at your neck. “I think you should let me tie you up and take advantage of you.” You giggle into his ear.

He pulls back away from your neck to look you in the eye. “Is that what you want? To tie me up so I can’t touch you? To ride my fat cock and take your pleasure from me?” You shiver in anticipation and nod your head enthusiastically. “Alright sweetheart, just to show you how sorry I am, I’ll let you tie me up.”

You jump up and down and clap your hands. “Ok, strip for me big guy.” You don’t wait around to watch, sadly. You head into your closet to find some scarves you can tie him up with.

You find some that you think are going to be sturdy enough and head back into the bedroom. You find Ransom sitting against your headboard, naked as the day he was born, stroking his enormous cock. You lick your lips at the sight. “See something you like, babygirl?” He smirks, knowing you do.

“Oh, you have no idea.” You head over and tell him to lay on his back. He obeys obediently and stretches his arms and legs out. You start by tying his feet to your four poster bed. Once you're confident he’s secure, you head over and start tying his left hand to the bed. Once you get it tied you ask him to try to break away. He does and is not able to. You head over and tie his right arm the same way as his left.

Once he’s all tied up you back away and gaze at your work. Nodding in satisfaction you make eye contact with him as you start slowly stripping. He bites his lip as he stares hungrily at each new body part that comes into view. “Fuck baby, I need you so bad.” You glance at his cock and see he’s standing proud and at attention for you.

“All in good time, handsome. I’ll make it worth your while, don’t you worry.” Once you get completely naked you grab your panties off the floor and crawl up and straddle him right above where he wants you most. “I don’t think you’ll really need to be talking” You let him know as you stuff your panties in his mouth. His lust blow eyes look amused at your sudden dominant side. He thinks you’re adorable pretending to be a dom.

You start by pressing kisses down his neck and slowly moving your hips until you’re right above his cock. You lower just enough so that you can grind your drenched pussy on him. He groans and pushes his hips up into you as best he can. You glance up at his restraints and see he’s pulling on them and trying to get free. And then your gaze moves down to his bulging arms. That’s when the lightbulb goes off in your head. You lean down until your mouth is at his ear. “Well I guess since you’re all tied up I can go ahead and fulfill my other fantasy.” You whisper as you climb off of him.

He looks confused and pissed. Until you straddle his right arm and smirk down at him. “I’m taking what I want from you, right?” He eagerly nods and flexes his muscles, making you groan out in the process.

It takes you a minute to comprehend you’re really straddling his arm. You’re getting what you wanted. This almost never happens. You start off with a slow grind. You are so fucking wet. You know you’re drenching his arm and it’s running to the sheets. You don’t care. You feel so empowered. The feel of the vein in his arm dragging across your clit is exquisite. You start grinding a little faster, a little harder.

“You like me taking what I want from you pretty boy?” You glance down at him and he’s just looking back at you with lust blown eyes. He nods his head. You look over at his cock, it’s angrily leaking precum. “You’re such a slut for my pussy aren’t you, Ransom? Getting all worked up at me riding your arm. What a whore.” You spat as you pick up your pace, smacking his face in the process. You earn a growl from him. You know you’re gonna cum soon. You can feel the coil tightening. You throw your head back and moan his name out loud, grabbing your breasts and pinching your nipples.

Ransom has never seen anything so erotic in his life. Why was he denying you this in the first place? He doesn't remember. He’s so entranced watching you get yourself off on his bicep. He has to stop himself from coming.

It’s there, you feel it. You grab a fistful of his hair and grind down just a little harder and you feel the coil snap. You come so hard, your legs are shaking, screaming Ransom’s name. You have to grab onto his chest to keep yourself upright.

You glance down and see that he’s breathing heavily, cock leaking cum. “Awe does my poor pussy slut need to come?” You tease, letting your breathing calm down before you crawl towards his cock, ready to let him blow his load in your mouth.

You lower your mouth and kitten lick the very tip of his cock causing a loud growl to erupt from his chest. You are about to stuff him down your throat when a thought occurs to you. You sit back on your knees and look over at him. He’s looking back at you with an incredulous look on his face. “You know, I don’t really think you’re quite sorry enough yet for what you did to me. I think you need to lay here and think about it some more.” You tell him as you get off the bed and grab for your clothes. You start redressing and glance back at him.

He’s beyond pissed. He’s trying his hardest to pull at the scarves to break free. He’s yelling at you. It’s all mumbled around your panties that are still lodged in his mouth.

You head over to the door and open it. You turn around before leaving the room completely and look back at the pathetic man tied to your bed. “Maybe next time you want to laugh at one of my fantasies, you’ll remember this moment, Hugh.” You smirk about to close the door behind you. Ransom must have gotten the panties out of his mouth because the next thing you know, you’re being yelled at.

“Don’t you dare take another step, Y/N, you bitch! Get the fuck back here and untie me you fucking cunt!” You just close the door and laugh and head to your couch seeing that Netflix is still pulled up. You pick your favorite episode of Friends out and settle in. You turn it up to drown out Ransom who is still rudely yelling at you. You smirk to yourself and decide you’re going to leave him tied up for at least a couple of episodes.

#chris evans #chris evans smut #smut #shamelesshoesforchris #ransom thrombey smut #ransom drysdale #ransom x y/n #Cici91 writes

843 notes · View notes

puckinghell · 4 years

Note

today i heard someone say "i don't wanna date, i just want my best friend to fall in love with me" and i thought it would make a really good fic!!! maybe you could write it with petey, for his birthday?

That’s a really cute idea. Just a little blurb but hopefully you like it!!

You love the boys, you really do, but…

“Shut up, Brock,” you hiss, slamming your beer glass down on the table with a little too much force. Some of the contents sloshes over the edge, but you know Brock is about to buy you a new one: after everything that he’s done tonight, it’s the least he can do.

“Why?” Brock asks, puppy eyes in full effect. “I’m just asking a question!”

What Brock is doing, actually, is opening a can of worms you really don’t want to get opened. You’re good at keeping your feelings close to your chest, have been good at that for ages.

You kinda had no choice. Falling in love with your best friend is dangerous stuff, especially when he’s really not interested in that at all, and you can’t be caught slipping up.

So you don’t go there, normally. But it’s obvious, really, to anyone with eyes. Brock likes to tease you that the sun shines out of your eyes whenever you look at Elias, and Troy simply raises his eyebrows in judgmental manner whenever you stare at Elias a little too long.

And unfortunately, your friends don’t have enough of a moral compass to refrain from teasing you about it.

“You’re not just asking a question,” you quote Brock sarcastically. “You’re being annoying.”

It’s always fun to go out with the boys, so whenever Elias asks you to tag along on their bar crawls, you always say yes. Somehow the topic got turned to your dating life, however, and the only reason you haven’t stabbed Brock to death with the umbrella that came in Jake’s cocktail is that Elias as last seen being beat into the ground at pool by Jacob, so he’s not here to hear about your pathetic love life – or lack thereof.

“I just think,” Brock starts, voice betraying the beginning of a monologue, “that if you’re not gonna do anything about your feelings for Petey, you have to try and get over him. And getting over someone works best when you get under someone else.” He points towards the general area of the bar. “There’s guys there! Just pick one.”

Jake snorts. “It’s not a supermarket, Boes. She can’t just pick up random guys and hope one’s good enough.”

“Exactly,” you say, thankful to have at least one person on your side. The happiness lasts for about a second, because then Jake clearly decides to betray you.

“But I don’t think it’s a bad idea to go on some dates.”

“Really, Tuna, you too?” you frown, putting as much betrayal as you can into your voice. He has the decency to at least look a little sheepish.

“Just a few dates. You don’t know what could happen.”

“I don’t wanna go on dates!” Frustration is ringing clear in your voice. “That might be fun for you, being professional athletes, rich, hot, and men, but going on dates for me means telling my friends exactly where I’m gonna be at whatever time during the night because I’m worried about getting murdered. It means having nothing to talk about and sitting through 3 hours of silence, or listening to men brag about their accomplishments while not even bothering to learn my name. Going on dates isn’t fun.”

You stubbornly cross your arms. Brock and Jake are staring at you with wide eyes, as if you’ve said something crazy; you groan.

“I don’t want to go on dates with random people, I want my best friend to fall in love with me!”

There’s a sharp intake of breath behind you. Normally you probably wouldn’t even notice it, but this one is a little too familiar to be ignored. Within a split second, you realize why Jake and Brock were staring.

Elias is standing behind you, looking at you with confused eyes. His hands are limply by his side.

Oh no.

“Oh no,” Brock says.

“Elias,” you start, but the sentence dies on your lips. What could you say? I didn’t mean it would be a lie, I can explain would lead into something you really don’t want to do.

For a second, Elias seems to be at a loss for words, which is not something that happens to your best friend a lot.

“I’m your best friend,” he says finally, and it’s like the words are sinking into his brain at the exact moment he speaks them. His eyes widen, realization settles into his features, and suddenly you can’t do this.

You can’t watch the horror take over his face, you can’t hear the pity in his voice as he tries to let you down gently. You can’t take Brock and Jake’s sorrowful look of guilt.

So you book it: you throw yourself out of the booth before anyone can say anything and all but run towards the exit of the bar, bumping into Marky on the way out.

“Y/N?” he calls after you, clearly worried, but you don’t stop.

Tears are starting to make their way to your eyes and you don’t want anyone to see that. Instead, you push the door open. Cold winter air hits you in the face and you feel it in your lungs as you inhale.

For a second, it calms you down enough that you have the mind to grab your phone and open the Uber app.

You should’ve expected Elias to follow you, but for some reason it still comes as a surprise when you hear his footsteps behind you.

It’s a little weird, maybe, that you would recognize his footsteps, that you would know it’s him before you’ve seen or heard him. But he’s so familiar that your body reacts to him even without your knowledge, muscles relaxing when he silently stands next to you.

Normally, you would lean against him, in a situation like this. This time you stare stoically ahead.

There’s chatter coming from inside the bar, but it’s quiet outside. It’s cold, but the night is clear. It’s a lovely set of juxtapositions, you suppose, like the way your heart is breaking at the hands of your favorite person; your best friend, who has done nothing wrong.

Suddenly you feel something warm, featherlight against your fingers. Elias’ hands are rough with callouses but they are gentle, and when he carefully and oh so slowly threads his fingers through yours, you don’t stop him. You don’t pull away. You should, probably, but God, you don’t want to.

If everything is going to change, you can allow yourself this memory, of getting so close to what you wanted.

“I don’t like going on dates either,” Elias says out of nowhere. His voice is soft but it cuts through the quiet night anyway.

It’s not at all what you expected him to say, and it startles a laugh out of you. When you look up, there’s a content tug to his lips, like he’s pleased to hear your laughter.

“But I like going on dates with you.”

Those words are even more unexpected and the laughter dies on your lips. Confusion takes over. “Elias, we’ve never been on a date.”

Elias hums. He takes a while to respond. “Haven’t we, though?” he asks, finally. “We’ve been to lots of restaurants, cinemas. Breakfasts, lunches, dinners. Movie nights at home. We’ve gone skating, hiking, golfing.” He grins. “Taken romantic strolls through the park.”

You snort. “Taking Brock’s dogs for a walk isn’t a romantic stroll.”

Elias’ response is quick. “But it could be.”

You don’t have a reply for that. Your heart is beating in your chest a million miles an hour; you feel like you can’t breathe, because it feels like Elias is saying something you couldn’t ever imagine hearing him say.

“Y/N.” Elias’ voice is soft, but urgent, so you focus back on him. “You’re my best friend.”

“I know.” And you do: you wouldn’t ever doubt that, you know what you mean to him.

“That’s why it’s scary. Because I don’t want to lose you if it goes wrong. But that’s also why it’s not scary at all, right? Because we’ve been doing this for a long time, we just didn’t put a name to it.” He shrugs, easily, like his words aren’t turning your whole world upside down. “But I already know I’m my happiest when I’m with you, and I know I always want to spend all of my time with you.”

Your head snaps up. When your eyes catch his, there’s nothing there but truth and honesty. Hope lights up inside your heart like a beacon of light.

“You said… You said you want your best friend to fall in love with you.” Elias smiles, small and private, but happy. “But I already did that a long time ago.”

Like a tidal wave of happiness, a smile spreads across your face. You’re about to step in, to finally kiss Elias like you’ve been wanting all that time, when a car pulls up.

“You already ordered an Uber for us?” Elias says, tone teasing and light. “Someone is eager.”

“I didn’t say you were invited,” you snap, but Elias simply laughs because in reality you both know that he’s invited.

You think for the past few years, there was never a place you went that Elias wasn’t invited to.

“I suppose I could just go,” Elias trails, and you latch onto his hands tightly, keeping them firmly in your own.

He’s not going anywhere, not if it’s up to you. And when he squeezes your hand in the back of the Uber, you’re pretty sure he’s not going anywhere if it’s up to him, either.

#blurb #elias pettersson #nhl fic #regular blurb

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lag1995-fics · 3 years

Note

Hey can I request a fanfic for Evan's character kit walker and song a turning page from twilight?

I hope you like it thank you for requesting. ❤️

Turning Page

Song:Turning Page by Sleeping at Last

Pairing: Kit Walker X Reader

Warnings: some cussing

Words: 2010

Summary:Kit’s highschool sweetheart waits for him

Song Fic Masterlist

////::::////

You and Kit Walker had been high school sweethearts, he was your first love; and if you were being honest he was your only love. You guys had mutually broken things off after highschool when you had gotten into an out of state college.

When you came back the first time after getting your degree, you found out that Kit had moved on and married a woman called Alma. You weren’t jealous, a little disappointed maybe, but you were genuinely happy for them. Kit was a good man and you had always known he would make a good husband. You couldn’t put yourself through watching them though, you had never given up on your relationship with Kit. He had ruined you for other men. You had other boyfriends during school but the longest relationship had only lasted a month.

You decided to move back to Boston leaving your small town life behind. You loved a relatively happy life in the city, distracting yourself from the life you wished you had. You had gotten a degree in education, so you threw yourself into teaching children.

You had been happy to hear that they had apparently apprehended the serial killer, who went by the bloody face moniker. Well you had until they said it was Kit Walker, you reasoned with yourself that it had to be someone else named Kit Walker. Your Kit would never be able to do something as heinous as what they claimed Bloodyface did. Your Kit was a gentle soul, who would do his best to bring happiness and peace to anyone he might meet.

When you saw his face flash on the evening news that night you had broken down and sobbed. Kit was being framed for a murder he hadn’t committed. He wouldn’t even kill a spider much less the woman he married. You had started making calls trying to get on as a character witness. That whole town was racist and this stunk of a town coverup.

They wouldn’t let you be his witness though, they claimed you hadn’t spoken to him for over six years. You had screamed and cried even harder when they rejected you. You had never stopped loving Kit even if it had to be one sided from afar. You wrote him letters trying to convey to him that people still believed in him. That you would always love and believe him.

He never wrote you back. The guards at the prison who checked his mail had scoffed thinking of you as some loon and had trashed them. When he was committed to Briarcliff Asylum they too disposed of the many letters.

When you hear of Kit’s death you fall into a dark depression. You’re barely hanging on, when you happen to skim a blip in a newspaper. You almost choke when you see his face. He’s a bit older, but it is unmistakably Kit Walker. The article however was not a happy one: the man’s wife Alma had murdered a woman that lived with them in a fit of apparent hysteria.

Without preamble you packed a suitcase and began the trip back home. Kit would need you, not as a lover, that ship had sailed but he would need you as a friend. He was almost entirely alone now and with two toddlers to boot. You couldn’t help but feel the joythat he was alive even though it was steeped in sadness at his tragic loss.

Alma had been a sweet girl from what she could tell. She had never met her in person but if Kit married her it was apparent that she was a good person. She had been missing for so long though, she had been traumatized and snapped. It wasn’t her fault that bad things had happened and lord knows that the country's mental health system left a lot to be desired.

It had taken you almost all day to find the farmhouse that Kit lived in. It was dusk and the sun was starting to set. You took a steadying breath hoping that you weren’t overstepping any boundaries. You had flown out of the house with barely any thought, relying mostly on instinct. You hadn’t been able to help Kit when he was accused of being Bloodyface but you could certainly help now without the government involved.

You eased yourself out of the old Buick you were driving and shut the door. You began to make your way to the door but it opened before you got the chance to knock. There he was, he was still handsome as ever, but he had lost that carefree air he had when they were young. You supposed you had probably lost that too.

“I already told you I’m not doing an interview, leave my family in peace!” His voice was angry and you were now unsure if you had made the right decision. Then as if he hadn’t really been looking at you before, his eyes widened.

“Y/n?” He asked questioningly the anger had drained from his voice.

“Oh Kit I heard what happened I needed to make sure you were okay,” you explained trying not to cringe. You probably seemed like a crazy person showing up at your highschool sweetheart’s home after his wife had murdered someone.

“I thought you lived in Boston?” He questioned, still surprised at your arrival.

“I do, I hopped in my car as soon as I heard, I thought you might need some help. If I’m imposing I apologize… I can leave,” you were rambling, it was something you were prone to when nervous.

“No! Uh I mean no, you could never be an imposition doll. Come inside, I didn’t think anyone cared about me anymore,” he lamented, meeting her halfway on her way to the house. You got a better look at him up close. He still had beautiful brown eyes but there were dark bruise like bags underneath them. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping well, and really who would after something like this happened.

You followed Kit inside his home, it still smelt of the bleach they used to get up the blood, but it was warm and cozy. You looked over and could see the two toddlers playing together on a rug with some blocks.

“This is Julia and Thomas,” he said, gesturing to the kids who barely spared them a glance.

“They’re precious,” you commented.

“Yeah they are pretty great, must take after their old man,” he bragged teasingly but it was half hearted.

“Kit,Are you okay?” You asked, laying a hand on.

“I will be,” there was a determination in his voice this time looking at the children playing happily unaware.

“If you need anything at all just tell me” you begged, hoping he would take the help. This trip wasn’t entirely unselfish, you had missed Kit the moment you left for college and the feeling had never left. It hadn’t faded with time like these things are meant to do, you had never stopped loving Kit and you would wait a thousand years if that’s what it took. You didn’t expect any romance, you knew that ship had sailed, but you would be there for your dearest and oldest friend.

“Don’t you have a life or a lover in Boston, surely you don’t want to spend time with someone as pathetic as me.” His self deprecating comment made you jerk him by the arm so he was facing you.

“You listen to me Kit Walker, you are one of the most gentle humans I’ve ever met. You are an incredibly good man and you deserve all the love and help in the world. Let someone help you, you don’t have to go through this alone,” You declared, staring directly into his brown eyes with your own y/e/c ones.

He only nodded before taking you into a friendly hug holding you close to his chest, his head buried into your shoulder. You felt a shuddering sob wrack through him. You only held him, you didn’t know how much time had passed as you held him close letting him sob. When he finally pulled away you could see the gratitude in his eyes.

****

Days bled into weeks and weeks bled into months as you stayed with Kit. Things for the most part remained platonic apart from a few lingering glances from each other. You didn’t want to put any pressure on the relationship. You had meant what you said when you told him you were here to help him. You would love Kit however you could get him be it romantic or platonic. You would always wait on him.

When he had come home one day in tears you had just held him. Alma had died that day and Kit had lost his wife for a third time and the children had lost their mother’s.

More time would pass and things became increasingly comfortable between you two. You had taken a teaching position at the elementary school the next town over and Kit continued to work as a mechanic.

It had been a day like many others when it happened. Kit had come home covered in a layer of oil and grease and you had been making dinner. After he had showered, he came into the kitchen to watch you cook and help Julia and Thomas with their homework. It was really quite domestic.

After dinner you had wrestled the children into bed and retired to the living room to watch television. You had felt the burning of Kit’s eyes on you and you turned to look at him pulling a face.

“Why did you stay?” He asked with a puzzled look on his face, “Your help has been indispensable, but it’s a year now and your still here. Aren’t you tired of me yet?”

“Oh, I can start looking for an apartment. I never wanted to overstay my welcome. I guess I just got comfortable being around you and the twins, is like breathing air” You rambled hiding your burning cheeks. He wouldn’t take that though and he grabbed you by your shoulders making you look at him.

“Doll I’m not kicking you out, you can stay forever if you want. I just don’t understand why you would want to stay with me,” he said and you gulped looking into his eyes.

“Oh Kit you’re the best person I know. Did you not get that with the hundreds of letters I sent to you in prison and while you were at Briarcliff” you joked trying to lessen the tension. You had never brought up the letters before you were honestly pretty embarrassed by them.

“What letters!?” He pulled back looking hard at you.

“I wrote to you everyday up until they announced your death” you explained cheeks filled with liquid fire.

“Fuck! He cursed getting up and pacing.

“I never got a single letter, y/n” he said and you not knowing what to do approached him opening your arms. He fell into your embrace burying his face in your hair.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked unsure of what to say.

“Don’t be sorry doll, but it still doesn’t explain why you want to be around me” He started in again and you couldn't help the anger that spilled forward. You took your fist and hit his chest.

“Because I love you dummy, I never stopped,” his eyes went wide at your declaration.

“What?” He asked dumbly, his limbs going numb.

“I love you Kit and I’ll always be there for you if you need me. If it’s only as a friend I can live with that, at least I get to be with you,” Your cheeks burned for the third time in what seemed like an hour.

Kit not knowing what to say decided to act on instinct. He gathered you in his arms and pressed his lips against your own in a searing kiss. You clutched at each other desperately the tension finally snapped.

“I love you too Doll.”

Requests are open drop a song or a prompt in my ask box ❤️

#kit walker x reader #kit walker #kitten #Kit walker is a babe #ahs asylum fanfiction #fluffy #evan peters #peter maximoff fanfiction #fem reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #ahs fanfiction #fanfiction

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