#I had to write this before I put up other stuff because I am annoyingly chronological
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warnings: again, smut. put me in a fucking hospital.
word count: 5.5k
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You were, by far, Jonathan Crane's least favorite student.
You knew it, and it was complete bullshit. You were always on time, always in every class, and always completed the work. You had always had such good grades in every class, but not with him.
While not giving you the worst grade imaginable, you were never able to get over an A-, which pissed you the fuck off. Obviously, to any other normal student studying psychology, they'd take the A-, but not you.
And again, nothing over an A-. There was the frequent B+, sometimes B, and when you really pissed him off he would go as low as a B-.
You've done everything you could to get him to like you. You would ask questions, clearly put extra effort into the homework, and even applied to laboratory studies that he ran. You hated not being liked.
However, at this point in the year, you had given up on trying. You still did everything you were supposed to do, because you wanted a good grade, but you hadn't bothered participating or showing any interest anymore. You had decided to focus more on your other classes. Due to this, you had been working late into the night, causing you to be exhausted for your 8 AM lectures with Crane.
You were exhausted, trying to pay attention. Your head hurt so much for looking at a screen for so long last night.
Crane is flipping through a slideshow, and you find yourself dozing. It's not that this stuff bored you, you had just already learned it back when you took AP Psych your sophomore year of high school.
You snap back into reality when you hear your name being called.
Crane is singling you out with an annoyed expression on his face. You turn red because everyone, all 400 other people in the class, are staring at you.
"I'm sorry. Is this boring you?" He puts his hands on his hips.
"No-" You begin.
You're stammering. You normally don't have such a rough time with public speaking, but being downright exhausted and being singled out for nearly falling asleep in class is extremely embarrassing.
He pauses for a moment and stares you down.
You feel as if you were naked, as if you were completely exposed to him. You didn't like him looking at you like that, like he was taking into account every imperfection.
"As I was saying..."
Thank god.
He resumes to what he was talking about before and you're more alert, heart pumping full of humiliation. You're taking notes now, typing quickly and probably annoyingly loud (you can tell because he keeps shooting you small glares every time you hit the spacebar).
Finally, the hour is up and he reminds everyone about the homework due that Friday. You collect your stuff and head out the door. You don't realize, but he watches you leave.
Everything you do irks him.
Maybe it was because your first paper challenged his psychological beliefs, or because your intelligence challenged him in general. But literally everything about you pisses him off.
Your loud typing, your questions that challenges his lectures, how you turn everything in on time, how you flawlessly converse with the other students. He is so desperately waiting for you to slip up.
As previously stated, you were putting less effort than before into his class. He picked up on this. You were turning your papers and chapter readings in the last minute, you weren't asking questions, and you were even falling asleep.
You had three days to complete a portion of the assignments given. You completely forgot about it.
Due to your tiredness and your weakening desire to try for the class, you had forgotten to write down the homework in a planner that you always checked daily.
Crane is a quick grader, and usually he always grades your homework first; more specifically, as soon as you turn it in.
You realized you didn't do the work as soon as you woke up that morning for your 8 AM class. You had never ever missed an assignment. Ever. And you had no time to do it and make it to his class on time. You were freaking the fuck out.
It's okay. Maybe he hasn't graded it yet.
But no. He was such a strict grader. He was harsh.
Whatever. You may as well hope for the best.
To distract yourself from your predicament, you talk to the boy who sits next to you in the class. It's just smalltalk about the workload and about an upcoming test.
You stop talking when Crane clears his throat. You shift back in your seat and open your laptop.
"It's a Friday. It's 8 AM," Crane begins. You think this is going to be the introduction of a psychological speech. "For all 399 of you that did your homework last night, go enjoy your Friday morning."
People being looking around and whispering, not sure if this is a trick, but you know it's not.
You're freaking out. Your heart is racing and you cannot believe that he would actually do this to you. Usually teachers will just give you a bad grade and call it that, but to single you out and have the entire class leave except for you is an all time low.
"I'm not messing with you," Crane continues. "Go. You know who you are."
He's looking at you dead in the eye and you stay put as people slowly get up to leave, looking around to make sure others are doing the same. You avoid his gaze, looking at your computer screen.
Soon enough, everyone is out of the large lecture room, some looking back to see the one person who didn't do their work.
Once the door is shut, and everyone is completely out of sight, Crane locks both of the doors and looks up at you.
"Are you deliberately trying to fail my class?" He questions. "I thought you wanted to be outstanding."
You can't find words to say. He scoffs and moves to his desk, shuffling through papers and bringing out a decently large stack to over to you. It feels like hours pass by as he walks up the steps to you and drops them onto your desk.
You look at them, confused.
"This is the homework that was due at midnight." He explains.
"It's never so much..." You stammer. You can feel his hatred burning into your skin.
"It's what's due next Wednesday, Friday, and the following week too. Let's see if you can get this done by.... hm," He checks his watch. "By the end of the period?"
"All of this?" Your eyes widen.
"When's your next class?" He asks.
"You're my only one today." You continue to avoid his eye contact.
"Then you can stay." He says. "Until you finish all the work."
"But-"
"I can't trust that you'll do it." Crane says, taking a step back from you. "You need to complete it. In front of me."
"Please, Professor," You try to defend yourself. "I've been-"
"I can assume what you've been doing, you've almost fallen asleep in my class." He scoffs.
You feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment over him getting the wrong impression. Does he really think that low of you?
You take a deep breath. You'll just have to deal with this.
"Do you have a pencil?"
He grabs a black pen from his desk and looks up to you, motioning to sit in the front row. Close enough. You swallow your pride and grab your things and the stack of paper, walking down to the seats in the front.
The class itself is an hour, but it took you almost five to complete the amount of homework he gave you. The readings were long, and the quality of work was demanding. You were eager to do well, to prove yourself.
You hate that he hated you.
His eyes were on you the entire time you did your work. The silence was loud, but you pushed through it. You got three weeks of homework done, and proudly put the stack back onto his desk.
"I'll see you Monday, Professor," you smile, then walk away.
After that, you tried harder; harder than you tried compared to every other class you took. You did this, not to get him to like you- but to get back at him with the fact that you knew your shit; you were a good student. You sat in the front, did side research, and spent nights studying for his endless quizzes. And he wanted to fail you to make you stop what you were doing, but you were getting all the answers right and you both knew that. He wouldn't want you taking anything to the next level.
With you in the front, it made it harder for him to not be distracted by you. Mid speech he would find himself locking eyes with you, disrupting his words and leaving him stammering for a brief moment. Ever since you've upped the eye contact, you've gained more control of the situation.
You arrived in class that Wednesday; the situation in which Crane forced you to stay and do two weeks worth of work in front of him occurred around three weeks ago. You're sitting in the front in between two empty seats; no one likes to sit in the front in Crane's class. It's usually only filled with around three to four people. Crane isn't in class yet, which is weird considering he's always there early, before anyone else even gets there. The class is almost about to begin and he's never been late.
Soon enough, it's one minute after the class is supposed to start and he's still not there. You start feeling antsy, wondering where he is.
Finally, he walks in; two minutes after class is supposed to start. So unlike him.
He places his briefcase on the desk and begins setting up his computer while everyone takes out something to take notes with.
"Now, you all know what I specialize in, I hope," He states, not breaking eye contact with his computer.
He specialized in phobias. Apart from dedicating his time to teaching you, he was a therapist mainly for fears.
"I'm sure we all know what exposure therapy is, correct?" He asks. Pretty much the whole class nods in unison. "Good. For those of you not on the same page, it's the type of therapy which someone is exposed to their fear or trauma."
He begins flipping through his slideshow, giving more and more information and lecturing about it, but you can't help but notice it's an almost bias review.
You're left with homework to write a review on some boring documentary on the history of exposure therapy and a pretty long excerpt of the textbook you all were reading.
So, you did your work and followed all of the instructions. You wrote a review on exposure therapy.
The next Monday, you get to class and you sit in the front row. There's a big stack of paper on Crane's desk, and you assuming that you're getting a pop-quiz, but no, that's not the case.
Crane's waiting for everyone with his shoulder rested on the large stack of papers. Once the time hits 8, he begins.
"I printed out all of your outlines," He begins. "I've made some comments and given some feedback. We'll spend the class working on them."
He starts calling out names and one by one, people receive their papers. You're sort of anxious- you left a pretty negative review on exposure therapy, something that he seemed so passionate about.
"Y/N Y/L/N." He says, saying your voice with more of an annoyed tone than the other students. You get up and grab your paper from his hands, tugging harder due to his firm grip. Clearing his throat, he continues calling out the following names. You go back to your seat, nervous to look at the paper. When you sit and look at it, your stomach dropped.
There's nothing on the front page. Then you look at the second.
See me after class.
There is literally nothing but a see me after class.
Oh my god.
What did I do?
Was he offended at all by what was written? Surely, that wasn't your intention... yes, you wanted to piss him off, but you had some respect for him. You didn't want to actually maybe- make him insecure about his work?
Class seemed to take hours to go by; you didn't even know what to do about your paper. He gave no other feedback other than to see him after class. How were you supposed to work with that?
You looked around at your classmates typing away. You're annoyed that he actually helped them.
See me after class.
At least give me feedback on my fucking paper.
Everyone then realized the time and began to pack up. Crane stood up from his desk and took his glasses off.
"Remember, papers are due Friday!" He manages to get out before people start heading out the door.
You put your things in your bag, trying to act out to your classmates as if you were leaving. You felt so embarrassed. You hated how he kept embarrassing you and how he had the power to do that. It was infuriating. You felt him staring at you as you packed your stuff up, moving slower, nervous that he would call you out.
You took your time, though, waiting till everyone was out of the room.
With everyone else there, you felt so confident. You were one of the smart ones and you at least had witnesses, but alone with him? You were completely inferior. He could quite literally ruin your life with a bad grade and could easily tarnish your image, being the head of Arkham and all that.
"I found your paper quite interesting," He says, emphasizing quite.
"I'm sorry-" you begin. "I didn't mean to offend you."
"Offend me?" He scoffs. "You think you offended me?"
"I just- I know this is what you do, right?" You stammer.
"I'm interested in your point of view." He says. "About the pain, how it's long term. I'm interested as to why you seem so against it."
You shrug.
"What's your biggest fear, Y/N?" He asks you. "What is it? Failure?"
"I'm not trying to fail."
"Oh, yes, you've proven that." He clicks his tongue. "Sitting in the front, turning things in quickly, wearing shorter skirts. Don't think I don't notice what you're doing."
"What?"
"You write intensely about the struggle that people with PTSD-"
"Wait," you interrupt him. "What did you say?"
"I'm trying to discuss with you what you've written."
"Professor, my clothing choices have nothing to do with me wanting to do well in this class," you say. Now you're offended.
Instead of apologizing, which is what you think any decent person would do, he looks you up and down and scoffs.
"You're wearing tights."
"What?"
"Surely, those must be uncomfortable. You're not wearing those to satisfy yourself," he says.
You grow red, and angry.
He keeps humiliating you.
"Who are you trying to impress?"
"Will you stop?" you groan in frustration. "Why don't you just let me get by like you let everyone else get by? I do everything you ask!"
"I want to know who you're trying to impress."
"I'm not trying to impress anyone," you hiss, finally looking up at his crystal eyes.
You know it's disrespectful, but you turn to walk away and to leave.
"No, no. We're not done."
You ignore him, walking towards the door, but he quickly beats you to it, shutting it and locking you in.
"I said we're not done." He said, completely composed. "Sit."
"I want to leave."
"Your biggest fear is failure, yes?" He questions. You don't nod or shake your head, but it is pretty much true; you hate failing. You need to succeed and be good at everything you do. "Sit. I can very much make that fear come true."
"I do everything," you repeat. "Everything. I do it on time, I'm here always, I'm prepared for everything."
"Can you just fucking-" He pushes you down onto the seat next to his desk. "Sit?"
You weren't expecting him to physically force you to sit down, but you could pick up on the pent up frustration he had with you.
"The off the cut sweater, no bra-" He points out.
You weren't wearing a bra. You were surprised he had picked up on the fact- you could've been wearing a strapless, but no. He was right.
"Are you even wearing underwear?" He whispers.
You're flushed.
What the fuck was going on?
You thought he hated you.
And yeah, you knew he was an attractive man, that's what made this whole thing pretty exciting, but you never thought you would be sat down with him leaning over you saying things like this.
"Let me see."
"Professor?"
He grabs you off the chair and pushes you onto his desk, spreading your legs for you. Everything was moving too quickly; this all felt like a fever dream.
He tugs at the middle of your tights, ripping them open to expose your- and he was right- bare pussy. He lets out a chuckle.
"You're not trying to impress anyone?" He questions, again, peering up at you.
You try moving your thigh to cover yourself, but he forcefully keeps them open.
"Who was that boy you used to sit next to... Tim, is it?"
To be honest, you really didn't know that kids name. He was just someone you sat next to out of habit since you had picked that seat the first day of classes. But you hadn't been sitting with him for weeks at that point.
"Is Tim who you're trying to impress?"
"No!" You argue, still trying to fight the grip of his hand off your thigh. "I told you... I'm not trying to impress anyone."
"Hm." He says, placing two fingers on exactly the right spot of your clit, slowly rubbing in circles. . "You're not even trying to impress me?"
You stay silent, for a brief moment.
"Not in this way..."
But it's past that point now. He's already touching you, rubbing faster, and your exposed pussy is laid out right in front of his face. You're embarrassed and self conscious. He's too close for comfort.
"Yeah?"
The fingers once on your clit are now entering you. You still can't comprehend the situation.
But for him, he was putting you in your place. It was enough of the looks in class, the semi sexual and revealing clothing, the obvious need for his approval and to show him she was as smart- maybe even smarter than him himself.
"Is that why you're letting me touch you like this?" He asks, using the two fingers to pump your pussy.
It's out of your control but you're getting wetter the longer and faster he fingers you. It's beginning to show, beginning to drip down his fingers and onto his wrists. He notices this, then stops and looks.
"Disgusting," He huffs before licking his fingers clean.
"That's disgusting," You repeat at him, glaring a little, but you can't help but want his finger- more of him back inside you. You feel empty, desperate for his hands back on you.
"I don't see you asking me to stop."
You're silent, again.
He smiles, kneeling back down and spreading your legs open again, this time with a more forceful grip. He doesn't use his fingers this time, devouring you with his hot mouth and basically digging in.
He was really good at this. To be fair, no one had ever actually eaten you out, but you had never felt anything like it. He moves his fingers towards you again and fucks you with them as he sucks and licks at your clit. He was freakishly good. You felt something drip down your thigh; you didn't know if you were sweating or if you were fucking leaking. By the sound of it, probably the second one.
He removes his fingers and dives deep into your pussy more, making obscure sounds as he does so. He stops and looks up at you.
"Take your shirt off. I want to see your tits," he demands.
You comply; he's already seen a lot.
"Fuck, they're perfect." He says, now standing over you, playing with them and poking and twisting at your hardened nipple. He's pushing his hardened clothed dick into your bare pussy, giving you some friction has he sucks on your neck and plays with your nipples.
He grabs your hips and flips you over, putting you on your stomach and leaning you over the desk.
He kneels back down, eating your pussy again; he can't get enough of it. He can't get enough of the small whines escaping your throat and the way you leak and how you shake when it feels good- or when the pleasure becomes too much.
He adds his fingers in again, this time three, and you let out a louder, but not too loud, moan than usual.
"Professor-"
"You can take it." He assures you. "You better take it. If you can't take this how can you take my cock?"
You just weren't used to it- you had been fucked, but not for so long. He keeps licking and devouring your clit while pumping in and out of you. You feel so full- on the brink. You feel hot, and god you feel good. You don't even realize it, but you're riding his mouth and his fingers.
"You know, I wasn't going to let you come," Crane begins between breaths, keeping his face close to your pussy so you could still feel him. "But now that I think about it... I want you cum drunk on my dick. I wanna make you cum over and over again until you're a fucking mess."
He goes back to sloppily and messily eating you out again. It was so dirty; the noise, what was leaking out of you. You then felt that familiar feeling and you couldn't stop it; no matter how wrong this felt or how humiliated and exposed you felt, you couldn't stop yourself from moaning like a mess and cumming all over his mouth.
You needed a second to recover, but he stood up and grinded his clothed dick against you. You weren't ready for the friction, wincing over the contact with you sensitive clit. He grabbed your neck and pulls your back to him, kissing you, continuing to grind.
He unbuttons his pants and undoes his boxers, his large thick cock springing out, begging to be touched. He pushes one of your legs up onto the desk to give him better access to you.
"You're fucking soaked," He says as he teases himself some more, collecting what's came out of you as some lubricant.
He keeps rubbing your clit and the outside with his dick, back and forth. It feels good, but it's not enough. He pushes harder with his dick on your clit, continuing to hump you.
"Professor, please," you look back at him, trying to guilt him into giving in and fucking you, but it's not that easy.
"Shut up, and let me take my time." He says. He continues this for a little, before getting a new idea. "I want you to cum on my cock without me fucking you."
"What?"
He pulls you towards him then on his lap on the chair next to his desk.
"Grind on it." He demands, holding you in place by your hips. "Get it soaked."
You hesitate, but he's impatient. He pushes you down and moves your hips for you until you begin to do it with him. You grind your pussy against his cock, stimulating your clit once more. It didn't feel as good as his mouth, and god it probably didn't feel as good as his dick would feel inside you, but it felt good. And you were so fucking horny, you were on the brink of cumming again.
"Yeah, yeah, you got it," he praised you, rocking your hips back and forth. He digs his nails into your hips, definitely leaving some cuts in your skin, but you didn't care. You were so close. He begins to bounce up, pretending to thrust into you, adding to your pleasure. "That's it, you- oh fuck, yes, cum on my fucking dick."
You're dripping onto him as you ride out your high, clenching around nothing. It seems to last for a while, wrapped up in all the pleasure combined with his dirty talk.
He angles his cock towards your entrance and pushes into you- he feels hot and he's sensitive due to teasing himself. But no- he doesn't want to cum yet. He wants to put you in your fucking place. And even if he does cum, he has no issue continuing and even fucking a baby into you. Then, you'd have to walk around with the shame.
He gently picks you up, but then harshly slams you up and down repeatedly onto his cock. You've had no time to readjust after cumming a second time, and you were extremely sensitive.
"Slower, professor, please," You cry, burying your face into his shoulder. "It hurts..."
"Shut the fuck up."
He grabs you by the neck and pounds up into you, rubbing your clit as well to add to the sensation.
Yes, it feels good, but it's so overwhelming you can't help but tear up. Crane notices this and it goes straight to his head.
"Are you fucking crying?" He scoffs. "Fucking crying for me?"
He picks you up, keeping you firmly attached to his dick, and throws you over the desk again. He's fucking you deeper and at an animalistic pace; like he fucking needs this.
"Keep crying for me. Keep fucking crying."
He harshly grips your tits, twisting your nipple in the process.
"Fucking perfect tits, perfect pussy, perfect everything. You fucking strive for perfection- but you're letting me fucking ruin you. Is this how far you'd go for a good grade?" He laughs, fingers deep in your clit.
You can only moan in response, but this doesn't satisfy him.
"Fucking answer me."
"Yes," you cry out.
"Yeah, you're just a fucking whore who'd sleep her way to the top if that's what it took." He says, tugging your hair back, your sweaty bodies pressed closer together.
His words are filthy, but you're fucking cumming again.
He's laughing, mocking you for doing so.
"You fucking like being treated like a bitch, don't you?" He says, fucking you through your third orgasm. You don't know how he's not tired. As you expect, he doesn't give you a fucking break. You're worn out at this point; almost numb.
"Professor, I don't know-"
"You don't know if you can keep going?" He questions. "Yeah, you can. I'll fucking make you keep going. What was that... your third orgasm? Let me see if I can double that."
"Professor..."
"I'll stop when you give me three more."
You feel like you're going to pass out; the pleasure had become too much, but you were so fucking sensitive that a fourth one had come quickly. Your pussy was so swollen and red, but he had not gotten off of you.
"You're fucking..." He brings you back to the chair and places you on top of him. "You're fucking leaking all over me, fucking hell. So wet... do you hear yourself?"
You could hear yourself. It was disgusting. It was filthy.
"Aren't you embarrassed?" He asks. He slows down his pace, and you know he's teasing you. "Embarrassed that you're whoring yourself out to me like this? To a professor that so clearly disliked you? This is what you do for my approval."
He slows his pace some more.
"Would you do this for any other professor, Y/N? Let them fuck your pussy till you have nothing left to give? Bounce on their cock the way you do for me?"
"No, professor," you shake your head, trying to bounce faster but he keeps your hips in place, restricting you. He had succeeded- made you cum drunk and fucked you stupid, but this wasn't enough. He needed more. "No, no, only you. I'd only do this for you."
You're squirming around on his dick. He's stopped moving at this point, just staying in you.
"Stop fucking moving around. Don't you want to impress me?"
"Have I not?" You begin to regain some of your strength with this somewhat of a break he was giving you. "Have I not impressed you, professor?"
You give him puppy eyes as you gain some control of the situation, his grip loosing and you bouncing on his cock at a pace you like.
"I want to impress you, professor," you say seductively. "I want to- fuck!"
You start chasing your high again, you didn't even realize that you'd ever be able to cum this many times.
"Fuck!" You repeat. Crane is letting you take control, enjoying the show of you riding his cock, using him for your pleasure. "Do you like this, professor? Do you like when I fucking bounce on your dick like this?"
You had never heard yourself like this, or ever expected to talk like this. You had never felt so confident.
"Have you imagined this professor?" You continue. He's obviously at a loss for words, not expecting this side of you. "Have you imagined fucking me? Have you imagined bending me over your desk and eating me out till I came all over your face? My tits? Putting me in my fucking place?"
His hands found your hips again and he's helping you ride his cock. He's loving the words coming from your mouth.
"God, I think you wanted this more than I did," you laugh. You're so close. You wanted him to talk, but his reactions to your words were enough for you. "Make me cum again, professor, please. I- fuck!"
He's pushing into you and bouncing you up and down quickly and you're riding out your fifth orgasm.
He pulls you off of him and lays you out on the desk again, licking up your sore pussy. He hums while doing this, telling you how you taste so good. You're so- so sensitive, though, and you can't help but cumming on his tongue again not even seconds later, letting out a string of incoherent words.
That's six.
You look at him, but he's positioning himself in you.
"You said six-"
"I say a lot of things. I want you to cum on my cock again." He says, kissing your neck. "Last time. I promise."
He pumps into you, at a softer, but still quick pace. You feel so incredibly numb, but he still manages to work you up quickly while fondling your breasts and pressing hot kisses into your neck.
"Ah- fuck." He pants, fucking himself into you. "Fuck... gonna cum in you. Want you to fucking carry me around for the rest of the fucking day."
You don't object- your hearing was probably a little impaired at this point.
"Yeah, you want that, don't you. It's like a fucking award to you."
He's holding you closer now. You both are so sweaty and sticky.
You're about to cum again, but he grabs your throat tightly.
"Fucking wait for me. Don't be impatient."
As hard as it is, you listen to him. He speeds up, becoming sloppy before he cries, "Fuck, cum! Cum all over my fucking- ahhh, yes, fuck."
He shoots hot loads into you as you clench around him, milking more out of him. He doesn't stop, continuing to fuck you until every last bit of his seed has marked you. Even after he's done, he gets a few more strokes in before he pulls out, showing the combination of you and him leaking out of your pussy. He pushes you onto the floor and presents his dick in front of him.
"Clean it."
You obey, wrapping your mouth on his cock and licking away the filth that the two of you made. He groans and pulls you off of him.
"You'll get me hard again." He says.
He puts all his clothes back on and hands you your sweater. Your nipples are hard, poking through them now.
"I look forward to your next draft of your review." Crane says calmly, as if what just happened didn't happen.
"You- um..." you stammer, brushing your fingers through your hair. "You didn't give me any notes."
"I didn't?" He questioned. You shook your head. "Well, stay again after class next session. I'll go over it, personally, with you."
"Oh." You blush. "This wasn't a one time thing?"
"Y/N..." Crane looks at the floor. "I'm your professor."
You felt awkward. Of course it was a one time thing; how could it not be?
But then he looks back up at you.
"You don't want to fail my class, do you?"
#jonathan crane#dc scarecrow#scarecrow#the scarecrow#batman imagine#the batman#batman#the dark knight#cillian x reader#cillian murphy#cillian x fem!reader#cillian x y/n#cillain murphy#jonathan crane smut
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Ik this is my fanfiction blog but imma rant about this dream that I had because I am SICK and TIRED of having this dream.
Ok so, I have this recurring dream, so to speak. The aspect of the dream that always stays the same is that I'm in love with this guy and he loves me too, but there's always something that keeps us apart. Most of the time it's just this unspoken thing that we know about the other's feelings and we're aware that the other knows. EXCEPT, in this dream he confessed... But not out loud.
I don't remember everything about the dream but he was driving me to a hotel because *somebody* was after me and I would be safe at the hotel. In the console was a stack of pieces of paper that I had cut up into like sticky note size for a reason that I can't remember. But, I guess it wasn't actually needed for that purpose so the guy just took to writing me notes on the papers. Most of the notes were just to tease/annoy me but sometimes he would write little reminders or stuff that was meant to make me laugh. Also, it's important to note we seemed to have a playful, bickering type of relationship because we kept bickering throughout the drive.
So, we made a stop on the way to the hotel and he hesitated before writing another note and then shyly giving it to me. I was taken aback by his shy demeanor but looked down to read the note. Only for him to snatch it away from me, but he was too slow. I had read the beginning and it said "I love you always and forever..." He had written like a whole paragraph but he snatched it away before I could read the rest.
He gave me a different note which I didn't bother to read because I knew he was trying to distract me. I shot him an annoyed glare and he handed me back his love confession. I could see how embarrassed he was so to spare him, I decided to read the rest of the note once I got to the hotel. I didn't acknowledge that I read any of his note and he didn't speak either. We ended up driving in silence the rest of the way to the hotel.
When we arrived, he got out the car to hand my bags to the valet and to ensure my safety. I, however, stayed in the car because I was still in shock and my mind was racing. I knew this would be the last time we saw each other for a while and that we'd have no way to communicate while we were separated. He knocked on my door and asked if I was getting out and I told him to give me a moment.
I took the pen and a piece of paper and began to write. I didn't have much time to write so I just wrote a quick little message. He opened his door and sat back in his seat as he asked me what was taking so long, and I just handed him my note.
All I had managed to write was "I love you too". He tried not to react but I saw the way his eyes softened and he fought not to smile. I took both notes that he had given me and put it in my pocket (yes, both, because I kept all the notes he gave me). Then, I smiled at him and left.
I never got to read the rest of the love confession or the other note he gave me as a distraction because I woke up😭
ALSO while I was dreaming, I knew his name and I knew what he looked like. He wasn't faceless. I can't remember his name or his looks now, though💀 When I try to remember, all I can picture is his black hair... I think. I also remember that he was annoyingly charming. Like I thought he was charming and I was annoyed by that fact.
I always forget the guy when I have this type of dream and it's getting really annoying. Also, why can I never get my happily ever after with this guy??? Why is there always something that separates us?
Ok, end of rant. Hope my dream was at least entertaining lol
#dream#my dreams#dream i had#dream interpretation#please help im going insane#x reader#fanfic#Even though it's not a fanfic#But it seems like some fanfic shit#rant#rant post#ramblings of a lunatic#doomed romance#draco x reader#jungkook x reader#jj maybank x reader#dean winchester x reader#peter parker x reader#gojo x reader#bakugou x reader#tommy shelby x reader#damian wayne x reader
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7, 24, 32 for the writer ask!
writing asks!!!
annoyingly i filled most of this out and then tumblr ate my answers SO take two!
What is your deepest joy about writing?
so this isn’t joy, per se, but i had a conversation with @lost-decade recently where i mentioned that i think a lot of my attraction to writing comes from the fact that i am, at heart, a horrible little control freak (positively unheard of in kink community etc etc) and thus it is very satisfying to me on a deep lizard brain level to put characters in situations and then make those situations conform to my wishes. my writing output always goes up dramatically when i am feeling overwhelmed or uncertain in life and i think this is a big part of it.
but also, i am a person who gets obsessed with things! i am all or nothing! i get obsessed with people (or rather their public personas, fourth wall and all that) and media and scenarios and kinks and tiny little details and big philosophical concepts. writing lets me poke at all those things. picture me like gollum holding a snow globe, shaking it up over and over again to watch how the flakes fall.
24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?
i’ll talk about fic first as that’s what people on here know me for writing-wise. the answer here is: it depends! for my slutty little one-shots i tend to do very little research; stuff like crosstown traffic or a lot like life are largely unplanned or inspired by one real-life event that sparks an idea (although i guess you could say i researched the njoy plug in a lot like life in the sense that i own one lmao).
with longer fics, particularly RPF, i LOVE fitting my fic timelines into real-life events. this is particularly satisfying with motorsport RPF because the races give the year a very particular and easy-to-research structure. so for longer fics like there was always warmth between us i watched a ton of youtube videos and clips of max and daniel for both timeline inspiration and characterisation (although honestly i read that fic back the other day and my dialogue for them is so generic at times gjrskjfs), plus i wrote it relatively soon after the season itself.
with the toto/christian sequel to all the blood runs hot before it’s cold i’m working on, i wrote myself some notes of what themes i want to explore, plus a timeline of last season so that i could tie those themes into the arc of the season, like so:
i probably won’t use all those notes in the final piece, but it gives me a structure to work from.
for original writing, again it depends. for short stories and poetry i tend to free write for a bit beforehand until something appears from the ether that i can use as a starting point. for my novel-in-progress, when i wrote the first draft i basically did…maybe a page of planning? this was a bad idea. it was a mess. i resisted planning for ages but eventually i had to admit that for long-form pieces i cannot adequately structure my writing without one. so i went back and wrote a very elaborate plan using the six-arc story structure, which allows for much more freedom than a traditional ‘save the cat’ style beat sheet. highly recommend. i try not to do too much research beforehand (which is hard given i’m writing a novel about AI, something i have very little practical knowledge of!) because i just get bogged down and end up procrastinating.
jeez, that was an essay.
32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?
oh lol there are SO MANY. i have a few of them tattooed on me. let me answer all three of those with the first example that comes to mind:
for poem, ‘turning and turning in the widening gyre / the falcon cannot hear the falconer’ from the second coming by wb yeats haunts me. the whole poem haunts me, actually, for reasons that should be obvious upon reading. but those lines utterly terrify me.
for novel, again there’s hundreds but the one that first came to mind was ‘you can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style’ from lolita by vladimir nabokov. lolita is one of the books i’ve re-read the most because it is a complete masterpiece, and this line embodies that to me. it’s clever, it’s funny, it’s defensive, it slides in a fantastically important plot point in the shape of a joke. amazing.
from fic, this is maybe a random example but the first one i thought of was this line from darkest little paradise (F1, pierre/charles) by heroics: 'Charles clutches him for another moment, squeezes the back of Pierre’s neck, resists the urge to drop to his knees right here and let Pierre do whatever he wants with Charles’s soft body.' i don’t know what it is about it, something about ‘soft body’. it’s just a line that has really stuck with me as a beautiful example of a dynamic (both in the relationship sense and, a bit, in the kink sense) described with such restraint.
eta: fuck at risk of making this post even more unnecessarily long i just realised i would be utterly remiss not to mention ‘She wants to know where this moral fortitude was when he had her flat on her back in that dark little cottage. Wonders if he had to fuck her to find it. If she has to always be the one to pay for it.’ from @widespindriftgaze’s astonishing taskmaster RPF masterpiece broke both early and late (part 2 in a series), which i have never managed to read without crying.
thank you for asking! ❤️
from this writing asks post. i love shit like this (as you can see from how fuckin long this got); please feel free to ask more if you're reading this!
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long lost coming up about some personal stuff I want to talk about :)
some personal experiences and feelings are under the cut. be warned, menstrual cycles, PCOS, sex, and sexuality are heavily discussed :)
I usually don’t talk a bunch about my personal life on here, but as I’m exploring writing smut myself, I want to say this
as a young teen (maybe 14-15), I didn’t have a menstrual cycle. I had a period for one or two years before it completely disappeared. I didn’t have a period for about 8 months, and as a healthy 14 year old girl, this isn’t ‘normal’. my mother took me to the gynecologist, because we thought it was the best place to go
I was then diagnosed with PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome). one of the first things the OBGYN told me was not that I would have future problems with my weight, acne, and other issues. but that I was essentially infertile. a fifteen year old girl was told she may be infertile. obviously, this was wrong. you don’t talk to a fifteen year old about having babies. but because this is how gynecologists run, I digress
throughout my teenage years, my body put me through a vicious cycle of not having a period for over year to having it every single day for over a year. this went on for about six to seven years. when I finally decided to stop going to different OBGYNs (because they don’t have a fucking clue about PCOS) and see an endocrinologist
in the spring of this year, I sought out an endocrinologist and set up an appointment. I went to said appointment where the doctor knew immediately what to do. I had blood work the same day and she prescribed metformin (a diabetic medication that can also be used for PCOS). she told me that this specific medication would do the right thing my lowering my testosterone and insulin levels. something birth control cannot do (as many different OBGYNs tried to prescribe me but did not work)
I began taking the metformin in May of this year and by September, I’d had my first normal period in over a year. it was a truly affirming (but annoyingly painful) experience. it is, however, the only period I’ve had but according to my doctor, it’s normal for me not to be regular yet as I haven’t been regular for over six to seven years
another thing I experienced was sexuality. all through my later teenage years, I identified as asexual. I didn’t experience sexual attraction and I thought it was just who I was
but around June or July of this year, I experienced sexual attraction for the first time in my life. as a twenty year old, it was strange. but, I am so happy now because I experience all forms of attraction now. I explain it as being a ‘twenty-one year old pubescent girl’. it sounds silly, but I began going through hormonal ‘puberty’ at twenty - twenty-one
as I am going to grad school next fall (and being a sexual person now), I will soon be starting a birth control
I wanted to say all this because when I publish any fic with smut, I always address how I am terrible at writing smut and dirty talk. this is because in my ‘sexual’ formative years, I didn’t read smut or watch sexual media. I started it as a later teen and now I don’t know how to write dirty talk
but, being a sexual person now, I have the desire to write it. and this is my place to do it. I do apologize for it being a tad ‘juvenile’ because I am still learning
I used to think sex and sexuality was gross and taboo (also due to religious upbringing), but I am unlearning these things. I understand now that sex is natural and can be enjoyable. and I like to read about it
so, this is just me talking. word vomiting basically because I want to be open about this as I will be soon releasing some smutty fics. anyway, if you made it this far, thank you for reading. PCOS is common, but not understood. and we should fight this stigma that people with PCOS or asexual people are broken or don’t ‘fulfill’ their duties with female possessing reproductive organs. we aren’t here to just have children, we can do more. and I think it’s important to acknowledge that and know it
thank you for listening to me and bearing with me as I further my journey into smut writing <3
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so im going on holiday, right, for an annoyingly long time (until the very end of september). and ive told all the campaigns that im in about this, because i was only MAYBE going to be available for one week of those games (while im in korea) and then completely unavailable for the other 5 (while im in canada, bc of the timezones, im australian).
and, one by one, each campaign has gone on a hiatus roughly encapsulating that length of time
im in two minds. on the one hand, it means i can continue my streak of having never missed a campaign game (i missed ONE session of my pathfinder campaign bc I was at my brothers wedding, and while I was in a restaurant afterwards I found out that rather than actually play the game they'd just looked at a player's dog, so its a .5).
on the other hand, it means that im indirectly responsible for all three campaigns having no games for the next two months :(
now, its indirect, bc there are obviously other factors. for one campaign, the gm had mentioned earlier that he might have to make it biweekly or take a break to work on his thesis - fair enough! for another, its to allow the gm to work on uni stuff, run some side sessions with smaller groups, and prep for a big mission that'll happen after I get back. for the last, its so the gm can fiddle with 'kinks' that have come up as we keep playing (since we're running an adventure path with some home rules and stuff).
but im also like. :( i specifically didn't want to be disruptive, especially considering i had no authority on how long this holiday was. It was one of the things that motivated me to quit the 4th campaign I was in when I did (in addition to other factors), because based on historical evidence I figured my "temporary absence" would cause a lot of sessions to not be run, whereas if I quit then me not being there would be normal, right, and they can run when just the other 4 show up, right? I couldve quit whenever, but I figured now was a good time so I didn't fuck over 5-6 weeks of the game. (2 of the 3 campaigns earlier are biweekly, LESS of a factor)
and like. I guess im... honoured?? that my presence is valued enough that me not being there would be a significant enough factor to prompt the gms to go 'actually yea lets just take a break instead'. but then also worried that I'm reading too much into it? and being egotistic by assuming thats whats happening? especially in one of the campaigns where theres 8 players, including me and not including the gm, right? like in the one on hiatus for thesis i can slightly inflate my ego more because im basically the party bookkeeper and notetaker, responsible for tracking the inventory of our pack mule and stuff. but mmmmm am i being an egotist. am i thinking about it too much.
i just dont wanna be a buzzkill?? I dont wanna be the reason others miss out on having fun in their fun ttrpgs? and i feel bad that i put them on hiatus?? like again yes there are OTHER reasons, but my absence *is* a factor, and i just ;-;
especially again in the 8 person campaign bc writing my character out for three games is really easy. we established that the ship she's a captain of has been pressed into service patrolling the bay in advance of an invasion by mindflayers or whatever. so shes just. on that ship. actually being its captain. instead of leaving it to her lieutenant, which has been her tactic for the majority of the time she has been captain of that vessel. even with the adventure path one i said, before the hiatus was called, that presumably my character was just ~along with the party~ until they got to the ferry we need, and then would be in their cabin on the ferry reading and completely oblivious to the outside world. sure that ones a little shakier but they did literally uncover a journal of theirs and they have amnesia so deciding to do a deep dive on that bad boy while stuck on a boat seems completely reasonable. bwuuh. (difficult to justify for the thesis campaign bc my character is a) Around, and b) has no way to simply dip for 6 entire sessions that would make sense or wouldn't just fully take him out of the campaign).
whatever. im just antsy because im really stressed about my holiday and full to the achy tit with period hormones that make me grumpy and also even MORE stressed about the holiday. so on, so forth, grumble grumble
#ive been around more often bc it is genuinely quite useful to have somewhere to blurble on without my friends reading it lol#and bc ofc i grew up on this hellsite im very used to and comfortable just rambling on social media. so having my safe space? nice#also i prefer tumblr posts for bitching bc twitters just a pain in the ass and by the time i get to the end of the thread ive forgotten mys#myself. whatever. also i love tags for the (ps: shenanigans) vibe. love that#anyway its just me feeling bad about causing campaigns to go on snooze and then worrying im an egotist
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Are You Here to Stop Me? (Peony to Lotus!verse)
[First post/Setting of Peony to Lotus]
[Ao3 Series]
The sky was dark with night and the storm by the time they reached QiongQi Way, rain pelting down like arrows into their faces until they were left nearly gasping from the stinging cold. As Lan Wangji landed Bichen, Jin Guangyao splashed off into the ankle-height slurry of mud and water, sheet white and knees nearly buckling--probably from flying through a sky filled with lightning and ear shattering thunder as much as the height. Lan Wangji should have inquired as to his well being, but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t focus on anything but getting to the camp, finding Wei Ying, stopping him before he could do anything that would further ostracize him from the rest of the Cultivation World.
From him.
In any case, the smaller man gathered himself upright and simply followed him as they climbed up the path, squinting through the rain and stunning flash-bangs of brilliant light, then utter darkness. There were people already fleeing down the rocky embankment, covered in blood and mud, eyes white rimmed, faces terrified and that icy clench around Lan Wangji’s heart tightened. Deftly, he caught a gold-robed man in his middle with Bichen’s sheath, demanded, “What happened?”
“Someone came to their rescue!” He babbled, pointing back the way he had come. “He resurrected the dead to kill people!”
The storm crashed in a sick parallel to the horror that flashed its way through Lan Wangji, and Bichen’s ornamentation cut into his palm. Jin Guangyao muttered something beneath the deafening hiss of rain--a curse, an exclamation, something in disbelief--Lan Wangji didn’t know, for he was already moving, taking the path to Wei Ying in long, ground eating strides, blood pulsing in his ears for every step, for every thought that was just one word repeated--no, no, no, no. He didn’t know exactly where the camp was, but he didn’t need to. He just followed the trail of escaping people, frantic from animal panic. Running from a predator.
No. He musn’t think that. It couldn’t be too late to call him back. It couldn’t.
He stopped when he saw it, reached out to catch Jin Guangyao’s elbow when he nearly lost his footing to the thick mud--hulking, undulating shadows, moving down the path toward them, backlit in silver relief with every lightning flash through the sheets of pounding rain. The shadowy forms resolved themselves into horses, then people huddled on horses. A familiar, slim figure at their head, clad in black, burning in the night with a fierce purpose. It felt like fire just to look at him in such a state, eyes alight, face pale as death. Wei Ying. The Wens.
Surely if he had broken such a core rule, he should look it. He should look stained, should feel tainted to Lan Wangji’s trained senses--but for all that he was bright with rage and intent, he looked cold and bedraggled, sopping. And scared. Familiar as he ever was to him.
The horses stopped, dancing from foot to foot with anxiety and Wei Ying looked down at them, mouth tight, eyebrows pinched. “Lan Zhan. Jin-xiong. Are you here to stop me?”
“Wei Ying….” Lan Wangji’s breath caught, searching, aching for the words that were right, that could fix this, that could convince him to stay. And if there were no words, his limbs hummed with the tension to simply pull Wei Ying off his horse, to pin him to the ground, keep him until he saw sense--but he couldn’t make himself move. “Where are you going?” Away. You’re going away, aren’t you?
Jin Guangyao looked over at him sharply, then up at Wei Ying, face pinched and unreadable. Wei Ying’s hands tightened on the reins as he shook his head. “I have no idea. But the world is wide. There must be a place for us.”
Lan Wangji’s hands were numb, his stomach a void of cold. “You need to think again. If you go, it will be considered a rebellion against orthodoxy with no way back.”
Wei Ying’s face darkened and he demanded with the hint of an trapped, disbelieving smile, “Rebellion against orthodoxy? What kind of orthodoxy is that?”
Jin Guangyao took a step forward, his hands coming up in placation as he grimaced against the onslaught of the rain. “You may be right, but this isn’t the time for ideology--”
“Isn’t it? Isn’t this about right and wrong? Who has done what and why? The Jin Clan has done this, Jin Guangyao, Lan Zhan. They killed Wen Ning--they skewered him with a lure flag and left him to die in a field, alone and in pain and--” Wei Ying broke off as his horse gave a harried half trot to the side, spurred by his wild energy and the broken sob of a bedraggled older woman from the crowd. “They tortured them. Toyed with their lives, murdered so, so many. I don’t regret killing them.” He looked straight at Lan Wangji as he said it, face tight. “They deserved what they got. Payment in kind. It was justice, carried out by his own hand.”
“Wei Ying...they’ll hunt you.” Lan Wangji’s voice was low, the air squeezed from him, but Wei Ying heard it, because his chin raised, jaw growing hard.
Beside him, Jin Guangyao shot Lan Wangji a look that he didn’t parse beyond extreme displeasure before he lunged forward to latch 2 hands onto either side of the bridle of Wei Ying’s mount, holding the thing’s head as it tried to step around him, his face all at once earnest and pleading. “Wuxian, think about A-Li. What will she do if you leave? Jiang Wanyin? What will you do?”
“I don’t know,” Wei Ying snapped back, seeming locked between shaking him off and listening. “I don’t--”
“It doesn’t have to be this way. Take a moment. Take a breath. We can fix this.”
Wei Ying shook his head, jaw tightening as he sucked in a breath. “No. No, I….”
The horse tossed its head again, trying to shy away, and Jin Guangyao braced his feet in the mud, hauling it back down, insisting, “We can talk about this, Wuxian; what’s happened? What did you do?”
“Nothing I wouldn't do again. What should have been done long before this. I’m not going to leave them,” Wei Ying landed fiercely on this last. “I won’t.”
His expression smoothed into wide-eyed, placating understanding, Jin Guangyao shook his head. “No one says you must. What happened?”
Lan Wangji felt frozen in place as rain pounded down on his head, rushing down his back, his neck, spray invading each inhale. He didn’t want to hear because he knew. They knew already what he had done. He could see in the smattering of pale faces behind Wei Ying, one paler even than bone, laced with blood and black as only a fierce corpse puppet could be, dormant and propped on a horse. Wen Ning. Who he said had been killed.
Wei Ying has done it again, but not for war, not for defense. The night felt as if it was slipping away beneath his grasping fingertips, water over metal, no handholds. Uncle will find it unforgivable. He will be ostracized. He will be imprisoned.
It was wrong. He knew it was wrong.
But it was Wei Ying.
“I made Wen Ning a puppet. I killed them all. The overseers. I can’t...they are not going to forgive this and I don’t want them to. If this is their world, if this is what they’ve made of this peace, I don’t want any of it--”
Jin Guangyao hissed something under his breath, face hard, before he released one hand to reach up and grip Wei Ying’s knee, staring up at him. “Let us help. Let me help. Trust me.”
Something passed over Wei Ying’s face, then, a strange tangle of relief and panic and he looked at Lan Wangji with wide, scared eyes. Then at the huddled Wens, watching him with terrified awe. “I don’t….” he said again, quieter, with less bite to his tone.
“Wei Ying….” bled from Lan Wangji and the man looked back over to him again, this time, his face full of frozen grief.
Then, his gaze went down to Jin Guangyao, grief slowly inching into the fear of a child in the presence of an adult. Relinquishing control. “Jin-xiong, I don’t know what to do.” His voice was a choked whisper barely audible over the rain chatter.
“Then wait,” he insisted. “Just wait a moment and let me….” He trailed off, his mouth set, brow furrowed, eyes tracking back and forth in the nothingness of the mud.
Everyone flinched at the splitting crash of thunder and lighting right overhead and, for a moment, Jin Guangyao’s face curled into a snarl of frustration as the horse tried to half rear in its panic. Wei Ying waited, frozen and staring down at him as if he was an anchor in the sea. Lan Wangji stepped closer in a daze, staring at him, the urge to simply latch onto his ankle with an iron grip, ensure that he could not run, he could not leave--
Jin Guangyao sucked in a breath. “You need to come to Lotus Pier,” he said, finally and Wei Ying bristled.
“I told you, I’m not--!”
He was shaking his head, “We’re bringing them.”
“I...what?”
Lan Wangji tore his eyes away from Wei Ying to stare at Jin Guangyao, squinting through the rain running into his eyes, threatening to sink his waterlogged headband down his forehead. What?
“We have to go quickly; news will reach Koi Tower soon and my father will send people after you all, but if we reach Yunmeng, they have to address Jiang-zongzhu first before they take any action on his territory, if we send someone ahead to ensure Jiang disciples are waiting at the border to receive them.”
Lan Wangji forced himself to speak. “To what end?” Talking to Jin Guangyao was easier than trying to talk to Wei Ying, where the words were compressed, bottlenecked by their own foreign pressure to be released. Don’t leave me, don’t do this, don’t go.
“Hanguang-jun, these are not abnormal conditions for their prisoners to be kept in and if they reach them before we get out of Lanling, they will be slaughtered as escapees, not recaptured.”
“To what end are you bringing them back?”
The smile that Jin Guangyao flashed him through the rain was edged and slightly manic. “Distance. I don’t have a better idea, at present, than to get far enough away to think of one.” He raked his gaze back over the refugees, then stopped and stared. “Is that Wen Qing?” he raised his voice over the din as the sky released itself fully, pounding down with a deafening fury that blurred the scene to silver-gray darkness, smudging the outlines of everyone and everything.
Wei Ying looked where he pointed, what Lan Wangji could see of his face rigid with confusion and fearful hope as he shouted back. “It is. Why?”
Jin Guangyao stared into space, before he nodded slowly. “Alright. Alright. You have to go; now. Hanguang-jun!” He wheeled on Lan Wangji. “I need you to take me back to Koi Tower.”
[Part 2]
#And that's how it happened#CODE: Wen Rescue#JGY's got a plaaan#I had to write this before I put up other stuff because I am annoyingly chronological#There's gonna be a second part from JGY's perspective but I wanted to chuck this out here first#AU#Peony to Lotus#my fic#my stuff#yaoli#<--there is no overt yaoli besides JGY being WWX's brother in law in this one the cute stuff is for later#wangxian
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I don't know if you've done this before :( but could you maybe write about the Obey me brothers after an argument with MC?? Like a fight make up kind of situation??
400 years later.....
Well, maybe not that long, but certainly long enough. I'm sorry >.<. Hope this doesn't put you off on sending other things because I did like doing this one!
Obey me Brothers + MC After a Fight
Lucifer
It was late into the evening when you heard the knock at your door. Before you could ask who it was, you heard the even timber of Lucifer’s voice behind the door. “[Y/N], it’s me. May I come in?” There was a long pause than usual between his introduction and question, seeming to debate asking, or your response, before he asked it.
To be honest, he had a right to be cautious because you weren’t sure what your answer would be before you opened your mouth. “Yes. Come in.”
The heavy door opened and Lucifer stepped in. Prim and as well stationed as ever, but the confidence normally in his face diminished just the slightest. “I…came to apologize.” The words seem to want to drag out of his throat. Like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to say. Not the best start for an apology.
“You didn’t have to treat me that way.” You tell him. Telling you like a child in front of everyone. Getting your hand smacked for something you didn’t even do. No coming to give some lack luster, dutiful apology he doesn’t mean. “And don’t say your sorry if you’re not.”
“I am sorry.” Lucifer insisted, before he took a deep breath and tried to relax. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have embarrassed you like that in front of everyone. I was upset, and took it out on you. Sometimes you’re an easy target because I know you’ll care for me no matter what I do. We always hurt most the ones we love.” Your cheeks tint at the comment. Damn him and his suave words.
The demon makes the effort to cross the threshold and take your hands. “Please know that I am truly sorry for my behavior. I will strive to never make you feel foolish, or less than, again. My mission in life now is to show you how much more than I find you over everyone else.”
You roll your eyes a little at the comment. “Let’s not get carried away. You’re starting to sound like Asmo.”
You giggle when Lucifer gave a forced, disgusted shutter. He then lifted your hands to his lips and gave them a kiss. “Am I forgiven?” He asked.
“I suppose.” Annoyingly, he was right. You would always care for, and love him, so it was hard to stay mad at him for long.
“Good,” he said, with his usual prideful smile, “I’m glad. I do plan to still make it up to you though. So make no plans for Saturday.”
“Will do.” You agreed. Giving him a tiny salute. He then left to let you finish getting ready for bed. Ideas of how he’d ‘make it up to you’ swirling in your head.
Mammon
There was a sharp rap at your door that rung out clear in your room over your headphones. You were curious who was here at this hour, but got up to go answer the door before the tried again.
You open the door and are immediately confronted with a bundle of flowers being shoved in your face. Almost to the point of the blooms bursting against your cheeks. You stagger, at the afront of color, and the bouquet is pulled back slightly to reveal Mammon behind them. “I…bought you these flowers. To say I’m sorry.” The more he talked the more his voice trailed off. His normally confidence draining like the color from his face.
“Isn’t it rather cliché to buy someone flowers to apologize?”
Mammon flinched at your criticism. “I didn’t know what else to do. If you don’t like them I’ll buy you something else. Anything you want! Just please…talk to me.” Please forgive me, was what he was really saying.
You look at the demon for a moment. His defeated stance not fitting into his character at all. Ironic, since the fight was about Mammon being too full of himself. Confidence was one thing, but ever now and then it was too much, and when you tried to talk to him about it he turned on you. He had immediately regretted it, but you refused to talk to him for several days after to cool off.
Apparently, that was the worse punishment he could think of.
“You don’t need to buy me anything Mammon. I’ve already forgiven you.”
“Really??” He asked. Seeming unsure of what he’d heard or that he could trust you.
“Really.” You repeat, and immediate find yourself in his arms. Your flowers falling to the floor as he hugged you.
“Thank you [Y/N]! I’ll never do anything stupid like that again! I promise!”
“Well now, let’s not make promises we can’t keep.” You tease. Patting his back. “We all make mistakes Mammon. I’ll be angry with you sometimes, but I generally forgive you. How can I stay mad at my ‘First Man’ for long?” His hold on you tightened a little. It lingered for a moment longer before he let you go.
“Yeah. Right. Don’t you forget it.”
Levi
You were getting ready to head downstairs when there was a knock at your door. It was a surprise, since you were going down to meet everyone. So who was up here now? You open the door and find everyone’s favorite otaku, out of his hole and in front of your door, staring at you.
“Y-Y-You…You weren’t answering my texts.” Levi finally got out.
“That should have been a hint.” You tell him. Perhaps a bit more curt than need be.
The bluenette straightened in alarm before his shoulder slumped again. “I know. I’m sorry! But I couldn’t stand the thought of you being mad at me! I know I can get a little…-“crazy?” You interjected –“excited about my games and stuff, but I really didn’t mean to snap at you!”
The two of you had been playing some new quest game that was all the rage apparently on the deep otaku net. Supposedly it was unbeatable. No one had actually ever seen the final boss ending yet. Which of course meant Levi was determined to be the first. Confident that his eons of experience wouldn’t lead him astray.
Sadly, the legends of the unbeatable game were true. And after hour after hour of crushing defeat Levi snapped and took it out on you. He’s locked himself in his room after. Ashamed, and upset that he hurt you; if his texts were anything to go off of.
“I threw the game away and I’ll never play it again. I promise! I’ll never go all rage beast mode on you again as long as I live! Just please forgive me and talk to me again!”
“Oh Levi, it’s not that serious.” You insist as you reach out your hand to his clasped ones in front of you. Reassuring him. “We all get a little crazy when things don’t go our way. I forgive you. In the future lets try to play games that are a little less….taxing on our relationship, if we can manage.”
“R-R-R! Relationship!” Levi stammered. Turning bright red in front of you, which made you giggle. You lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Really frying his circuits. Maybe it was a little bit out of you missing Levi when you were fighting. And maybe it was also his ‘punishment’ for the fight as well.
Satan
Tucking into your homework for the evening, you look up from your desk when there was a knock at the door. It was sharp, to the point. You immediately knew who it was, and debated not answering. However, that would be rude and a level of pettiness not even you could manage.
“Hello Satan,” you greet when you open the door. Correct in guessing who was there. “How can I help you?”
The blonde seemed wounded by your formality, usually such a champion of manners. But he was a clever man and knew you were doing it to put some distance between you. “I came to apologize.”
“As you should.” Ok. Maybe you were a little pettier than you like to admit.
“You’re right, and I should have been here sooner. I was just….embarrassed.” Satan ran his fingers through his hair. “He just makes me so angry sometimes! Being so high and mighty. Bossing us around. I try to keep it under control but….I can’t.” Given he is the Avatar of Wrath, it’s a wonder he made any effort to keep his rage in check. Everyone says he was getting better though. Even his relationship with Lucifer was getting better; even with this spat. “It pains me more than I can tell you to know that I upset you in the process. Turning on you like that like an idiot when you were only trying to help. It was so stupid.”
“It wasn’t very like you.” You admit, and Satan gave a single, bitter scoff.
“Maybe not now. Maybe with you.” Cautiously he reached out his hand to take yours in a gentle hold. “But I am sorry. Please know that I’ll strive to not let my anger get the better of me again.”
“I’m sure you will.” You said. Squeezing his hand back. “And, I forgive you. I should know by now not to get involved with any of your fights. But I care about you all so much.”
“But you care about me most, yes?” He asked with a soft smile. To which you giggle and kiss his cheek.
“Yes. I care for you most.”
Asmo
It was late afternoon when you heard the knock at your door. Typically, everyone was off doing their own activities at this hour, so it was a surprise to have someone looking for you. You open the door cheerfully at first, but then frowned. “Oh. Hello Asmo.”
“Hello [Y/N]-kun.” Asmo greeted brightly, but you could tell it was forced. “I…wanted to come see you. To apologize. For acting so ugly earlier.”
It’s not often that Asmo lost his temper. He usually left that to his silly, older brothers. Rising above in dignified beauty, as he liked to put it. But every now and then it got the best of him, and his tongue was sharper than any knife in the draw when he got that way.
“What you said really hurt Asmo.”
“I know,” he admitted frowning. “I haven’t been able to sleep all night thinking about it. Look at these bags!” You frown as he pointed to his under eyes, and he realized he was being selfish again. “I’m sorry I said such awful things the other day. I don’t have an excuse or fix for it. Except to say that I’m sorry, and I hope you forgive me.”
You let out a soft sigh at his words. He did seem sincere. It was a little odd to see Asmo so down. “Alright, I forgive you.” The demon immediately perked up with his usual smile and took your hands in his.
“Thank you [Y/N]! Let me take you out shopping, as a further apology. I’ll buy you anything you like!”
“So we’ve resorted to bribery now?” Asmo giggled at your joke and you nod. “I’ll right. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get out. Anything I want?” Asmo nodded and made some suggestions on what you could spend his money on as you walked. Inevitably ending up on lingerie, which earned him a smack.
Beel
You had just gotten back from class when you heard the knock at the door. It startled you. You had only just gotten back a moment ago, so what remarkably good timing.
You finish taking off your uniform jacket before you open the door. Startled, yet again, to find Beel behind it. “Beel?”
“Hi [Y/N].”
An awkward silence filled the space, one that hadn’t been there since you first arrived in the Devildom, before you spoke. “I uh…was going to change. I just got back from class.”
“I know. I waited for you to come back.” The red head confessed. Nervously scratching the back of his head. “I wanted…to talk. I wanted to apologize.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” You reply. Now nervously scratching the back of your head as well. “If anything I should apologize.”
Beel was so sweet and kind. But sometimes, his ‘space cadet ways’ over anything that didn’t involve food or fitness was very hard to deal with. He’d forgotten you were supposed to meet, yet again, so when he showed up an hour late for your date yesterday you had given him an ear full. He’d been hurt, but took it. Now you just felt bad, like you had kicked a puppy, with it over.
“But I should have remembered. It’s not fair that I forgot when we were supposed to meet. Again.” He looked upset with himself and fidgeted with his hands. “I really am sorry I forgot. I don’t want you to think you’re not important or anything. I’m just dumb.”
“You’re not dumb!” You scold Beel. Not accepting him putting himself down like that. “Can’t we just agree that we’re both at fault. You should have remembered, but I shouldn’t have yelled at you either. Can’t we just….make up? I hate fighting with you.”
Beel smiled softly and leaned forward to give you a hug. “I hate fighting too. I think I’ll be ok if we both take blame. That seems fair.” He let you go and stepped back. Seeming back to his usual, easy going self already. “Do you want to do a make up date? If you’re free. I can take you to Madam Scream’s or we can go get Fire Iceies.”
You giggle and nod. “Sure. That would be wonderful.”
Belphie
It was so late at night when you heard the knock at your door that, initially, you thought you dreamt it.
Hearing it again, you woke up and threw on your robe over your pjs to go answer the door. Groggy, and a little concerned as to who could be here at this hour. Something must be wrong.
“Belphie?” You question in a whisper. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.” He said. Remarkably less groggy than you were for a change. “I had to see you.”
“In the middle of the night?” You question. Getting more alert and annoyed at being woken up by him.
“Yes. I couldn’t sleep. Imagine that.” His fingers twirl at his long bangs while he looked down at the floor. “I came to apologize.”
“Apologize?” You repeat. Shocked, more than anything, that he was here to apologize. Not that he did deserve an apology to you, you just didn’t think he’d do it.
“Yes. To apologize. Can we make up now?”
“That’s it??” You remark after his ‘apology’. “You say you’re sorry like that and I’m just supposed to forgive you?”
“Yes. That’s how apologies work.”
“No it isn’t!” You snap. Louder than you wanted to with the late hour. You set your teeth and wheeze through them. You don’t want to start another fight. “You apologize because you feel bad about something and want to make it up to the person. It has to be sincere.”
“I am being sincere.” Belphie insisted. “This is sincere as I get.”
“Well it certainly doesn’t feel like it.” You reply. Crossing your arms.
It was Belphie’s turn to sigh at you. “Look. I’m not like Asmo or the others who are great with words. I came to apologize, and that’s it. I was wrong and I wanted to say I’m sorry. That’s the best I can do.”
“Why do you even want to say your sorry? If you don’t sound like you mean it.”
“Because I hate you being angry with me.” You blink in surprise at Belphie’s confession, and he sighed again. “I hate it. I hate not talking to you. I don’t care what anyone else thinks of me, but if you hate me, I can’t stand it. So, I came to apologize. To do anything so you wouldn’t hate me anymore.”
You uncross your arms and scrunch your lips a little bit. “That’s a better apology.” He looked back up at you with a questioning look. Seeming surprised that he had ‘done good’. “And, I don’t hate you. Just because I’m angry with you, for good reason, doesn’t mean I hate you. I could never hate you.”
The demon smiled softly. His expression tired, but hopeful. “Thanks [Y/N].”
“Now, we need to get back to bed. It is the middle of the night after all. And we have school.”
“Ok.” Belphie agreed. Then stepped into your room and made way to your bed.
“In your own room mister!”
#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#obey me#obey me beelzebub#obey me mammon#obey me asmodeus#obey me satan#obey me belphie#obey me beel#obey me leviathan#obey me lucifer#obey me levi#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me levi x reader#obey me mammon x reader#obey me asmo#obey me asmo x reader#obey me satan x reader#obey me belpie x reader#lucifer#leviathan#mammon#satan#asmodeous#beelzebub#belphie#obey me imagines#obey me scenarios#imagine#scenarios
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let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)
summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.
(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)
pairing: sebastian stan x reader
warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, sebastian desperately needs to hug the reader, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning
(pinterest inspired board)
part: 1/6
(other parts) (masterlist)
The day it happened, it wasn't a significant meeting at all, you barely even talked. In fact, when he opened the door of your neighbor’s flat that day with a beer in his right hand and his hair messy, he didn't have any effect on you. You always knew that living next to a director meant that sooner or later you’d bump into the pretty faces of well-known people. Sure, you didn’t expect them to be Hollywood actors like him, but to say you were starstruck by the man, would be the overstatement of the year.
The building you’ve lived in for the last three years has five floors; you live in the 4th, he lives in the 5th. He’s a quiet person, usually spending his evenings out of his apartment. You’ve talked sometimes, about the weather and the weird lady that lives in the 1st floor. You’ve never told him you find his directing style a little pretentious.
You’ve never been to his place until that annoyingly warm August evening, when you find a white button up shirt on your balcony. You can clearly see more clothing when you look up and you’re certain the item you’re holding belongs to him.
He’s not there though. Instead you find a different face behind the door. Lighter eyes and darker hair. The man in front of you is definitely younger than the director. You don’t bother to notice what he’s wearing.
“Can I help you?” His voice is deeper than you expected. Stronger, with a touch of European accent. The sound of English surprises you at first but soon you realize he must be another foreign coworker that came to visit your neighbor
“No, I just think Argyris dropped this and it ended up on my floor.”
He looks at you and then at the shirt, in your hands.
Then he says “Sure, I’ll take it.”
“Okay.”
Then it ends. He doesn’t even ask your name. You don’t have to ask his. You figure out, as soon as you walk down the stairs, that it’s Sebastian Stan that you just talked to.
And while being a big fan of marvel movies, you think nothing special of him at first. You just wonder how a mostly unknown director from Greece got an actor like Sebastian to come here so they can work together. It makes no sense to you, but you forget it when your phone starts ringing.
/
It would’ve been easier if you never saw him again, yet you do. You see him trying to understand what the old lady from the first floor is trying to tell him. You already know. The elevator is not working. The next day you see him walking up the stairs.
You exchange a quick hello, how are you and then off you both go.
The same night Argyris invites you to have a drink with them in the terrace. Part of you wants to just stay in bed and binge watch some Sherlock episodes. Part of you already thinks of what to wear.
There are around ten people there when you show up. They’re all sitting down in huge pillows drinking and talking loudly. You don’t know most of them.
You sit next to a blonde girl, across from Sebastian. This time you notice he’s wearing a plain black shirt and holds a glass of whiskey.
You don’t share any direct conversations but you learn that he’s afraid of growing old and that he thinks Taxi Driver is one fucking masterpiece, as he says.
When you mention that you’re probably the least artistic person in the room right now, you hear him laugh.
A curly haired woman starts dancing with him at some point. You decide he’s not a good dancer.
He leaves the same time you do, following you down the stairs.
“I thought you live here.” You say when he doesn’t stop at the floor you expect him to.
“Ah no, I stay at a hotel near the centre.”
He keeps talking about his suite until you reach your door.
You part in a blur, with a short goodbye.
He still doesn’t ask for your name.
It makes you feel genuinely offended.
/
Two days after, he is the farthest thing from your mind, until you find him sitting in front of your door, his eyes roaming the place with despair. And then he sees you.
“Ah finally you are here.” He starts casually. “Thank god.”
You just nod.
“Argyris told me to wait for him with you. We had a meeting but he got stuck in traffic.”
You give him a look.
“He said you’re always at home so you won’t mind.”
Ouch. Yeah sure, your social life wasn’t something to brag about but for some reason the way Sebastian said it, it sounded like an insult.
“Okay, come in.” You shrug, clearly not feeling comfortable and turn around to unlock the door.
You hear him call your name. You thought he didn’t know.
“Yes?”
He offers you an easy smile. “Thank you.”
/
Sitting in your couch he’s eyeing the entire room, while you put some groceries in the fridge.
“Argyris says you’re a great girl.” He clears his throat. “But he thinks you’re too quiet for your own good.”
You look at him, your eyes flicking up and down his face.
“And from what I can tell, he’s right.” You hear him laugh.
It felt weird to see him laugh while he was leaning back at your cozy pillow. He had entered your life so suddenly you didn’t even have time to react to it.
“I’m sorry but I barely know you.” Your words are sharp. He sits up.
“Okay then let’s get to know each other, what’s your favorite Disney princess?”
Defeated, you laugh. “Are you kidding me?”
“No, this is an important question.”
You wait for him to crack up but then you remember he’s an actor.
“I don’t know.” You think for a second. “Mulan?”
“Oh my god. Mulan is amazing.” You smile at him. “My favorite is Jasmine, she’s just so badass.”
You share your favorites that day, having almost nothing in common rather than your everlast love for animated movies and buttered popcorn.
When it’s time for him to leave, he stops and looks at you in the eye.
“You should talk more often.”
You stare at him with confusion. “I talk,” you raise your eyebrows. “When I have something to say.”
“Good.” he says, still looking.
/
Later in the evening, you’re eating some yoghurt when he comes knocking on your door.
He’s different. The white tank top he was wearing this morning is replaced with a dark shirt and his face looks tired. You assume they’ve been working since he went upstairs.
“Hiii”, he says dragging the i, “Am I interrupting anything?”
You desperately want to nod. You want to tell him that you were doing the most exciting thing in the world, before he came but you were never a good liar.
So you just tilt your head and take a step back.
That’s when he enters and is met with some loud rock music blaring from your laptop.
“You like AC/DC?” he asks, almost wide-eyed.
“Well, I can tell it’s them when I hear their stuff.” For the first time that day, he seems to be in loss of words. “Why are you so surprised?”
He sits in the same spot in the couch as earlier and laughs.
“I just didn’t take you for the kind of girl who likes this music.” It’s your turn to laugh.
“Why?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Quiet girl who loves animated films and eats kids’ yoghurt” he looks at the carton in your kitchen table, “and also likes metal music? Doesn’t add up.”
“We’ve basically just met; you shouldn’t make assumptions about me.”
“Fair enough.” He sits back, fidgeting with his fingers.
You take some time just looking at him
There was a certain vibe about that man that made you wonder how it’d feel to cruise down a dessert highway in a convertible mustang with him. In the summer. With him wearing that white tank top.
The color of strawberries emerges at your cheeks just at the thought of it.
You wish he doesn’t notice.
You’re glad to find him looking the other way, before he speaks up.
“We’re going out tonight.” His voice is warm now. “Argyris says you should come along, even though I’m quite sure there’s no hardcore music where we’re going.” He laughs again.
I can’t. You almost say. But then anxiety slips away from you and out of sudden you want him to stop being so freaking arrogant, going around and acting like he knows exactly what kind of person you are.
He thinks you’ll say no. You can see it in his eyes.
“Sure, when should I be ready?” you say, surprising both of you.
He looks at you for some time and then trying to hide whatever he was thinking he says the first thing on his mind.
“How old are you?” He sounds pitiful. He knows. He wishes he could hit a wall; with his head.
“Twenty-one.” His eyes scan yours, unsure of what they’re looking for. “Why?”
“No reason.”
He inhales deep.
/
You try to blink. You’re at a party in a little bar you’ve never been before and a lot of people are wearing black. Alcohol. You can still taste it on the back of your tongue. You don’t remember how you end up pressed against a dark skinned man, but you can tell he smells of cigarettes and despair.
You sway your body to the beat, close your eyes. Breath in. And out. You think the music deafens you for a second but you open your lids and see Sebastian and he’s watching you, unashamed.
He’s not that far, though it feels like it with countless bodies in the way. The music melts. His gaze is almost angelic. Or devious. You can’t really tell.
He’s dancing with that curly haired woman again. You wonder how intimate their relationship is.
The red neon lights make his skin glisten. His muscles move divinely. It makes you think there’s an entire world inside him, his flesh barely keeping it hidden. Out of sudden you get the urge to walk towards him. You want to see him up close under this dim lighting. But you don’t move.
The man that’s groping your waist asks for your name. You tell him you need to flee. He doesn’t understand.
You sit outside with the sweet summer breeze touching your bare arms. The bass of the music in the background syncs with the beating of your heart. You can feel your ribs grow with every breath you take. Until you stop breathing because the door opens and his eyes suffocate you.
You can’t fathom the effect he has on you. He was a pretty face on screen some days ago. But right now he steals distance and stays near you.
You don’t look his way. He doesn’t say a word. Nicotine and smoke surround you as he exhales. His fingers hold the cigarette butt with care.
“Do you want some?”
You turn to look at him.
“I don’t smoke.” He laughs.
“That doesn’t mean you don’t want some.”
You want to know if his breath has the taste of sulfur. You want to pretend it’s the alcohol or the loud music that makes your head hurt.
“What’s the best part of being an actor?” The blue in his eyes glows.
There’s silence but he seems to be thinking about it.
“Do you ever feel things too much?” He says, his voice hoarse. “I mean, when you feel something so intensely it becomes a part of who you are.”
You nod. You understand.
“Acting allows you to let go of these feelings,” he starts. “You share the burden with the audience until it becomes light and you can hold it again.”
You look at him, shaking your head.
“I don’t think I could that,” you close your eyes. “I don’t think I could share what I feel so easily.”
He stands up. The wind hits you again.
“A lot people can’t. That’s why everyone is heartbroken,” he takes a breath, “Feelings eat us raw.”
You both go to bed alone that night. Tomorrow there is a hole next to you.
/
the morning after, search history
(02:45 PM) hangover recovery
(03:00 PM) best food after a hangover
(03:10 PM) sebastian stan
(03:30 PM) sebastian stan girlfriend
(06:00 PM) xanax side effects
/
You follow him on Instagram. He doesn’t follow you back. You remember he probably gets tons of followers every day and decide not to let it bother you. Instead you study for the exams of the following month.
The subject of your studies doesn’t interest you. Another poor decision you made under pressure. Sometimes you feel as if your life is borrowed from someone else. Sometimes you feel as if you haven’t found your home yet.
Feelings eat us raw.
His girlfriend looks beautiful in the pictures you find online. The media isn’t certain if they’re still together but you like to think so. It makes it easier to avoid him.
But the universe seems to be oblivious to your thoughts and you see him that same day. You’re taking the garbage out and he’s coming down from the top floor. You meet in the elevator.
“I’m glad to see you’re still alive,” his eyes are smiling as he talks “you looked kinda drunk last night.”
You fidget with the hem of the bag you’re holding.
“I wasn’t drunk.” You notice he’s growing some stubble. You’re not sure you like it.
“Whatever you say, doll.” You bite your cheek trying to devour any sign that might give away how his words make you flinch.
He turns his body a little so now you’re facing each other. He’s so pretty. He’s so pretty in a way that doesn’t hurt. You try not to stare at him, but you fail sometimes. You’ve never noticed how slow the elevator moves until you want to get out. You can’t stand being so close to him for much longer.
He’s an arrogant rich actor who loves Disney and smokes a lot, you think. I have no reason to be affected by him.
“Ah! Argyris said we’re leaving for the weekend.” You eye him curiously. “He wants to show us some small villages in the south. He thinks we should get to know the country a little more before we start.”
You’re stunned by your neighbor’s dedication to his work. Sometimes you wish you had something you could be passionate about too. Sometimes you think you’re never going to find it.
“That’s great. I’m sure you’ll like it.” You give him a smile.
He leans his back at the wall. The elevator stops. Finally.
“I like your eyes.” You grab tight onto the bag. “But they don’t smile when you do.”
He opens the door and he’s gone.
They tell you that it’s fun to meet a famous person. They tell you, you can ask for a photo and a hug. They tell you celebrities don’t talk a lot but that doesn’t mean they’re rude.
But he’s not like that.
He’s fire. He’s burning heat and scorching flames. His words are his thoughts; raw. You don’t like it.
/
late night search history
(00:38 AM) blue valentine movie soundtrack
(01:15 AM) is sebastian stan a bad person
(01:30 AM) acting classes for amateurs
(01:50 AM) cheap leather boots
(02:10 AM) sebastian stan eyes
You find it annoying; how he’s present even when you’re alone.
Thankfully he’s leaving for the weekend, you think.
/
The weekend, however, is two days away.
You think you can get away without seeing him. And you do. Until it’s late at night again. And they’re all upstairs with music so loud you’re certain the lady on the first floor is going to be rude about it in the morning.
The music tempo has you unaffected. All you think about is if he’s dancing with that woman again.
He’s such a bad dancer, he should not be dancing.
There’s a subtle knock on your door. You know it’s him. You hope you’re wrong.
“Do you feel like dancing?” His face is all flustered. It’s a good look on him.
“You can’t come knocking on my door at 2 AM and ask me to dance.” His gaze is filled with confusion.
“So you don’t feel like dancing?” You roll your eyes. He notices.
“That’s not the point Sebastian.” It’s the first time you call him by his name. You let it slip away slowly, testing the way it sounds coming out of your mouth.
He takes a step closer. You are suddenly aware of your pyjama shorts and your exposed skin.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to irritate you.” His eyes are the cliché blue of the sky. “I just thought you might want to dance, that’s all.”
Suddenly you feel guilty and embarrassed. He’s oblivious to it.
For a moment you feel his eyes linger on you. It feels surreal.
You nod at him.
He’s ready to say something when Argyris comes down the stairs, his shirt slightly unbuttoned.
“Ah man, I thought you got lost or something.” You lower your eyes. “Stop messing with the poor girl. People are looking for you.”
He throws a smile at you and Sebastian takes a quick breath.
“People are always looking for me.”
He gives away that he’s carrying a burden. Your expression softens. But then you look at Argyris and you see he doesn’t really pay attention to these words.
You share a quick look before you’re there standing alone at your doorstep, trying to grasp the idea of him.
/
When you wake up you feel like running. You can’t fathom where the feeling comes from but it starts like a liquid running down your veins and soon you can’t stay in bed even for a second.
Feelings eat us raw. Only if you let them.
.
i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged in this six part story :)
#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan imagine#monday the movie#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#letyoudown
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teacher!tom
pairing: teacher!tom x teacher!reader
summary: your colleague is insufferable, really. the way he’s so cocky, so lenient with his students, so nonchalant, so attractive with no effort whatsoever––you hate him, really.
warnings: smut near the end + this is really long fyi
notes: this literally came out of nowhere, i thought about it before i fell asleep last night and luckily i remembered it today. i was kinda hesitant to write it out and post it but here we are!
leave feedback :)
so you and tom get your jobs as high school teachers at the same time
you first meet during the training sessions during the summer before the semester started
and you immediately can’t stand him
he just––
he’s too much
with his charming accent
and his smile
and his perfect hair
how does someone look good with both gelled hair and messy hair?
when you had to spend too much time making sure you looked good every morning
it was unfair
some days he shows up in fancy clothes
a button down and pants
maybe even a trench coat
some days a leather jacket and oh how you hate that leather jacket and hoodie combo
it’s not professional in the slightest yet he still manages to pull it off
he even shows up to school in sweats
how? you have no idea
he manages to charm literally everyone
from the students (including yours, thank you very much), the lunch ladies, even the principal for christ’s sake
all the girls love him, they swoon over him every day
you see how your girls brighten up whenever he strolls into your class to bother you
he lets his classes watch movies way too often
he hasn’t even done some of the reading for his assignments he’s handed out
he constantly shows up to your classroom for the sole purpose of teasing you
‘looking as beautiful as ever, y/n’
you turn to look at him, a deadpan expression on your face, ‘some of us have actual work to do thomas, so if you would please leave––’
he interrupts you with a gasp, bringing his hand to his chest and he gapes at you, ‘how rude’ but you can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s not actually offended
you constantly have to physically shove him out of the class
and every time he just laughs, obviously enjoying himself, only pissing you off even more
he takes every opportunity he can to bother you
like when he interrupts your class, a cheeky smile on his face as he opens the door
‘sorry to bother you, ms. y/l/n’
you both know he absolutely is not
he turns to the students and waves like he’s a goddamn celebrity and they all swoon, and you roll your eyes
‘mr. holland,’ you see his eyes,, darken? at the sound of you saying his last name but you brush it off, ‘to what do i owe this displeasure?’
his usual smirk is plastered back on his face, ‘well i just needed to borrow a marker, love.’
you try not to let the nickname have an effect on you, especially when you hear your students perk up at the name as well
‘you know you could have just asked a student to come over here, right.’
he turns to your class playfully, ‘does she treat you lot like a bunch of servants?’
they laugh and you sigh, exasperated but somewhat amused, making him turn back to you
‘you don’t even use the white board in your class.’
he shrugs easily, ‘well today i am.’
and your students are loving the banter between you two
they all ship you and they’ve told you multiple times
tom’s students have done the same to him as well
you roll your eyes for what feels like the fifteenth time and nod your head to the tray under the board where all the markers are and he doesn’t move a muscle, he even dares to lean against the doorframe
‘well how am i supposed to know which one you don’t mind me taking?’
you glare at him and walk over to the board, picking up a random marker and throwing it his way
he catches it easily and slides out of the classroom and you can hear the grin in his voice as he walks off, ‘cheers, love.’
you just go back to teaching your class, ignoring some of the knowing stares your students are throwing your way
after class you go over to his class to see what was so important that he needed to get one of your markers
you walk right in because of course his door is wide open
...he wrote the date
that’s it.
he looks up from his phone to see you standing there and he straightens up, his eyes widening slightly as he sets his phone down
‘uh’ he scratches the back of his head, ‘i erased it all, obviously’
you narrow your eyes at him, obviously not buying it
‘i can assure you we took the most intensive notes you’ve ever seen’
you laugh and walk out of the class, ‘yeah and i’m the pope.’
he smiles, shaking his head slightly as he watches you walk away
sometimes when you’re walking in the hallway, he somehow finds you, easily sliding up next to you
‘you following me?’
‘tom you came up to me.’
‘nonsense, really.’
sometimes during lunch, he’ll stop by your classroom if you’re not in the cafeteria
and you’re too bothered and hungry to kick him out
so you both just eat and “enjoy” each other’s company
he’ll make small talk with you and it’s actually not that bad
you share an office with him and the other teachers in your department
your desks are right next to each other, because apparently whoever’s in charge of your life just isn’t on your side
he tends to look over at whatever you’re doing
‘geez darling, you really are a harsh grader...’
you look up at him, and back to the sheet, offended
‘no i am not! i’m checking the answer sheet and this is simply not correct––’
you plan on defending yourself further but then you see him trying to hold in his laughter and realize he’s just teasing you
you look back to your paper, hiding your smile, ‘ha ha. very funny tom.’
sometimes he’ll even roll his chair over and lean on your desk
you look over at him hesitantly, ‘do you need something?’
he just smiles lazily, ‘oh don’t mind me, just enjoying the view.’
you brush him off and try to ignore the fluttering feeling you get in your stomach
you’re with your other colleagues one day on lunch break,
luckily tom hasn’t decided to torture you that day
and they ask
‘so you and holland gone on a date yet?’
and you choke on your food
and the other one goes ‘or have you at least fucked––’
and you properly choke on your drink this time
when you finally calm down, they don’t even try to hide their smiles
‘what are you talking about?’
‘oh come on’
‘you can’t be serious’
when you look at them like they’re crazy their smiles drop
‘oh so you’re either stupid or oblivious’
‘hey!’
‘i mean come on, the way he looks at you––’
‘his teasing’
‘his comments’
‘we don’t like each other, he’s insufferable...’ you say but it really sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself
‘you know we don’t even have any policies on that stuff, sooo...you could if you wanted to.’
when you don’t reply, they go on,
‘so you don’t think he’s attractive at least?’
you roll your eyes, ‘don’t be stupid, i’ve seen him before, and he knows he’s attractive which is the worst part––’
and you get interrupted by a very annoyingly familiar british voice
‘who’s attractive, darling?’ he slides in and takes a seat next to you and your friends can’t help but smile knowingly at each other
you send them warning glares and they ignore you
he sends them a charming smile, ‘hello ladies’
their soft, completely charmed responses make you gag
and tom can’t help but shove your arm playfully, ‘play nice, darling.’
‘can i help you with anything?’
‘just wanted to say hello to my favorite colleague,’ he turns to your friends, ‘and her lovely friends, of course.’
you roll your eyes, ‘isn’t harrison your favorite?’ you ask, bringing up the pe teacher he’s always with
he was a nice guy really, you’d talked with him a few times, he was always making jokes
he brings a finger up to his lips, ‘shh’ he winks, ‘don’t tell him.’
eventually he leaves you alone with a promise to stop by your class again before the day’s over
you respond with a ‘there’s really no need!’
and he turns back to face you as walks out, ‘sorry! can’t hear you anymore!’
you look back at your friends and they’re giving you a ‘really, bitch.’ look and you can’t help but shrink in your seat a little bit, lost in thought
‘does he really like me?’
‘do i really like him?’
you try to push it aside and focus on your work for the time being after that––you are at work, after all
when parent teacher conferences come around tom obviously finds a way to sneak into your classroom before they start
you hate to say it but your breath hitches and your gaze lingers a little too long on the way his arms strain in his tight shirt, the part of his collarbone you can see peeking past his slightly unbuttoned top, the shiny watch on his wrist, his hands––
‘well you somehow managed to look even more beautiful than you always do, love. can’t say i’m surprised.’
you look down at the dress and heels you’d changed into after class ended, suddenly feeling undressed under his gaze
‘um thank you. you look good too.’
he seems taken aback for a second, and is he blushing?
‘thanks, love.’
he puts his hands in his pockets, a casual smile on his face, ‘so are you ready for the next five hours of forced social interaction?’
‘no but i have to be,’ you sighed. ‘i’m sure you’re fine though, you’re a people person.’
‘what can i say, people love me.’
‘alright,’ you say getting up, you don’t know what comes over you but you place your hands on his chest gently, ‘we have like’ you glance at the clock ‘two minutes so,’ you look up at him and the look in his eyes knocks you breathless
‘off you go...’ you trail of softly
his hands come up to hold you wrists gently, his thumbs caressing the skin, a soft look in his eyes,
‘if you say so, darling.’
it feels like time stopped but a knock on your door reminds you where you are and what you have to do
your hands hesitantly slide down his chest and back to your side and he sighs at the feeling, unwillingly letting you go
‘looks like my first parent is here.’
he backs away slowly, blinking out of the daze you both seemed to be in, ‘right, i––good luck, love.’
you reply quietly, ‘same to you.’
and so you introduce yourself to the first parent and go about your night
when you have a small ten minute window, you go to the bathroom and when you come back you find a small cup of coffee on your desk, just the way you like
there’s a sticky note next to it and you can’t help but smile when you read it
‘thought you might need this. knock em dead, darling. you’ve got this. :)’
when you’ve finally said goodbye to your last pair of parents, many long hours later, you prop your door open and take a seat again
it’s not long before you hear a knock at the door, you turn to see tom strolling in, two bottles of water in his hand
yes one hand, you tried very hard not to think about it too much, especially not about the way his fingers wrapped around the––
‘here you go, love.’ he hands you a bottle and you thank him as he sits down in the seat across from you where the parents were sitting all night
‘so how was that for you? first parent teacher conference done.’ he sips his water and you try not to focus on the way his throat bobs when he swallows the sips
‘i think it went well, they were all really nice, honestly. how was it for you?’
‘great, i mean it was honestly kind of fun, but now i’m exhausted’
you nodded in agreement, ‘oh! thank you for the coffee by the way, i––i really appreciated it.’ you give him a small smile
he returns one back to you, ‘of course, love.’
you can’t help but ask, ‘so do you just do this for everyone?’
he furrows his brows in confusion and you continue, totally disregarding the fact that he looks really cute when he’s confused
‘the coffee, the water, the nicknames...’ you trail off
he lets out a small chuckle, ‘i will admit i am a charmer––’ he looks into your eyes, ‘but i promise it’s just you. you’re...’ he trails off for a bit, ‘different.’
he can see you’re unsure about how to take that, ‘in a good way,’ he clarifies, ‘a really good way.’ he smiles
you lick your lips nervously, ‘well that’s...good. i––yeah that’s nice.’
you mentally curse at yourself, really? nice? my god––
luckily he lets it slide and soon enough the both of you get dressed and he’s walking you outside to your car
you both say goodnight and once you’ve driven off, tom gets in his car and heads home too
when the winter formal comes along, everyone is very excited, people are asking each other out, and all that fun stuff
being a teacher, you get to hear all the gossip in your class and in the halls and it’s honestly quite entertaining
‘now you didn’t hear this from me,’ you pause for dramatic effect while tom tries his best but fails to hide his endeared smile. he leans in over his lunch, ‘but apparently sarah lewis, the blonde girl in my class?’ you pause to make sure tom knows who you’re talking about
when he nods you go on
‘thought that david––’
‘is that the bloke on the football team?’
‘yes, him. she thought he was going to ask her to the formal, right?’
‘yeah i mean i’ve seen them flirting in the hallways, only makes sense.’
you shake your head in sympathy for the poor girl and his mouth drops, ‘no––’
‘yes... he asked her best friend instead.’
tom sits back in his seat, ‘that fucker––’
‘tom!’ you laugh, though you really shouldn’t, these were students for christ’s sake.
‘what? come on, he deserves it, the player.’
you nod, ‘yeah i guess he does.’
you both laugh and when it dies down, he speaks up again,
‘speaking of the formal,’ you perk up and try your best to seem nonchalant as you look up at him.
he’s looking down at his food nervously, as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world.
he clears his throat and looks up at you, his eyes vulnerable, ‘will you be uh, chaperoning?’
you swallow, weirdly nervous all of a sudden, ‘yeah,’ you tilt your head slightly and tom almost combusts at how cute you look, ‘will you?’
he snaps out of his reverie, ‘yeah! yeah i will.’ god he felt like he was back in high school again, this was ridiculous––
‘i guess i’ll see you there, then.’ you smile shyly.
he smiles back ‘yeah i guess i’ll see you too.’
tom shows up early to the dance, because he’s a nerd––he’d even put on his nice shoes, his extra shiny watch and gelled his hair for an extra ten minutes to make sure he looked good
he was hoping to catch you before everyone started piling in, but unfortunately you were nowhere to be found
nonetheless he helped with last minute decorations and such and stood in the corner when the dance started, to make sure nobody died or anything on the dance floor
he was sipping his punch, totally not judging the students dance moves when he noticed you walk into the gym, a look of awe on your face as you looked at all the decorations and lights
and you––
you looked like a princess
your dress was long and flowy and there was a slit (a perfectly appropriate one) on the side and when tom noticed that he just about choked on his drink
you made your way around the room, saying hi to the other chaperones and some of your students as well
a lot of people wanted to talk to you, tom found out rather impatiently
but soon enough, you made your way towards him, near the punch
‘funny seeing you here, holland.’
he smiles, ‘likewise, love.’
you both go off near the side and start small talking
soon enough you’re making jokes, enjoying your time
‘i have to say i really am impressed with how this turned out, it looks great,’ you say, your eyes exploring the room
he hums, ‘not as good as the ones in london though.’
you turn to him, amused and intrigued, ‘oh yeah, why’s that?’
he leans in to whisper in your ear over the music, ‘cause we’re allowed to drink booze at our dances.’
you snort and roll your eyes
and he can’t help but feel his heart flutter in his chest at the way you laugh at him
he wanted you to be his so badly
after a few moments of scanning the crowd and doing your job, tom speaks up again
he holds his hand out and you look at it and back to him ‘may i have this dance?’
you can’t help the smile that makes it’s way to your lips, ‘aren’t we supposed to be working?’
‘we can watch and dance at the same time’ he responds, even though he knows once he has you in his arms he won’t be able to focus on anything else but you
you say fuck it and grab his hand
he grins and leads you to a spot on the dance floor after discarding your cups
his hands gingerly find their way to your waist and it’s cliché, truly
but you feel all tingly when he touches you and honestly it seems like he does too
you slide your hands up to his shoulders and he takes a deep breath
you start swaying slightly to the song
and now that you listen to it, it sounds a bit too sensual for a high school, dance. but anyway––
tom’s eyes are entranced by the way you’re glowing in the light and the way you’re looking up at him
your lips looks so soft and inviting
your eyes are shining
and that dress
meanwhile, he looks dashing as ever
his jawline, his hair looks so perfect––you really wanna pull on it and mess it up...
you slowly inch your way towards each other and soon enough, you’re so close that if you just tilted your head and pushed forward, you’d be kissing
realizing where you are, you both snap out of it slowly
and as a slow song comes on, you lean your head on his chest and he holds you close
you can hear and feel his heartbeat and it makes you smile
you sway together and you can tell there are some students and even staff members who are staring at you two
when the song is over you look up at each other and the tension is unbearable, and oh so thick
‘do you wanna––’
‘let’s––’
you both laugh, still holding each other
‘let’s go, darling’ he grabs your hand and leads you to grab your coats and your purse and then out to his car
before he opens the door he catches a glimpse of the way you’re looking at him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth, your eyes looking him up and he just loses it
he practically lunges towards you and you yelp when he attaches his lips to yours, immediately melting in his touch
one of his hands is cradling your cheek, while the other reclaims it’s spot on your waist, gripping you softly but firmly
without detaching his lips from yours, he turns you around and presses you against the door to his car and you gasp slightly into the kiss, making him smirk
you raise your leg up slowly, trailing your heel up the back of his leg and he groans as he presses himself into you
you hear a group of teenagers shouting and laughing as they step out for a breath of fresh air and the two of you pull away from each other reluctantly, panting as you stare at each other as if you want to devour the other
and honestly––you do
he opens the door for you and tries to calm himself down when he shuts the door for you before walking over to his side and getting settled in his seat
he looks over at you and notices the way your clenching your thighs together, how your breaths are still heavy and he bites his lip, unable to look away from you
you break the silence
‘are we really about to fuck in your car?’
‘of course not,’ he looks offended, ‘for our first time together? absolutely not, i have more manners than that love.’ he pauses, ‘unless you want that?’
you can’t help but laugh, ‘take me home, tom’
your eyes widen slightly, realizing how domestic that sounded and you go to take it back but he interrupts you, placing his hand on your thigh
‘let’s go home’ a smile on his face as he pulls out of the parking lot
the whole drive to his place, his hand is gripping your thigh teasingly and you’re surprised you didn’t leave a wet spot on his seat when you got up
he opens the door for you and takes you up to his apartment, using all his self control not to take you right there in the elevator
when you get to his door, it takes him way too much effort to put the key through the hole
though he’s not drunk, it feels like he is when he’s around you
you’re absolutely intoxicating
your hands are rubbing all over his body as you hold him from behind, your face nuzzling into his back and he can barely focus
‘christ––’
as soon as you step inside his apartment, he locks the door and his lips are back on yours as you take your shoes off and hastily throw your jackets on the couch as you walk past the living room
once you get into his bedroom, he turns the bedside lamp on the lowest since he doesn’t want you to trip and fall over anything
you both quickly undress and tom stops you before you can take off your undergarments
‘let me,’ a cheeky look in his eyes as he does so
he turns you around and grazes his hands up and down your sides before bringing them behind you and unhooking your bra
he slides it down your arms teasingly slow and the silence in the room is deafening as you hear it drop to the floor
he steps closer to you, pressing his bare chest against your back and you hear him take in a breath as looks at your breasts
he brings his hands to your waist in a silent question
and you lean back in response
he takes the invitation and glides his hands up to grasp your breasts and your back arches, a soft sigh escaping your lips and he basks in the sound, wanting to hear it again
‘so pretty, darling’ he plays with your nipples and you whine, wanting to feel him already
‘tom––’
‘alright,’ you hear the smile in his voice before he turns you around
then he bends down all while keeping eye contact with you, kissing your skin as he makes his way down
then, this cheeky bastard, places his hands on your thighs, while he looks up at you with those innocent eyes and grasps the waistband of your panties with. his. teeth.
he drags them down oh so slowly down your legs and once they reach the bottom you kick them aside
he stands back up and you waste no time, smirking at him before you bend down, ‘my turn’
you get on your knees and drag your fingertips down his abs while you do so, relishing in the shivers he tries to contain
you hook your fingers into his briefs and pull them down, biting your lip at the way his cock is standing up proudly
you lick your lips as he steps out of his underwear, ‘is that all for me?’
he bites his lip, bringing a hand down to hold your cheek and you turn your head to kiss his palm
and how you managed to make that hot? he has no idea
‘of course it is, darling. it’s all yours’ he grabs his cock and starts stroking it slowly, hissing at the feeling
you quickly take control and he moans out loud when you lick along his base and put the tip in your mouth
you swirl your tongue around him and he swears he sees stars
‘you’re––christ, you’re making me forget my manners, love. i’m supposed to take care of you first.��
you roll your eyes, taking him out of your mouth while you keep stroking him with one hand and play with his balls in the other
‘you wanna make me happy right tommy?’ you bat your eyelashes and he twitches in your hand at the sight and the nickname
‘y–yeah’
‘then let me do this please? wanna make you feel good’
he nods entranced and you continue, putting your mouth back on him
sucking and bobbing your head as his eyes flutter shut and his head falls back
he gets lost in the pleasure and honestly almost blows his load unwillingly but he pulls you away and leads you to the bed
you climb on and get settled in the middle, enjoying the look in his eyes as he climbs after you like a predator eyeing its prey
his eyes lock in on his target and you close your legs teasingly as you look up at him
he shakes his head slightly at your antics, ‘ah ah, open up, pretty girl. i wanna see you.’ he nudges your thighs open with his hands and the feeling of his fingertips pressing into your skin send tingles all through your body, making your pussy clench around nothing
he looks between your thighs and back at you, ‘can i?’
you nod before he can even finish his sentence and he’s too eager to please you to make a joke about it
he lies down between your legs and wraps his arms around your thighs as he holds you in place and dives in
his tongue is slow and teasing as he licks through your folds
he’s making eye contact because of course he is
and you can’t look away, and neither can he
you can tell he’s enjoying this and it makes it all the more enjoyable for you
he’s taking his time and savoring you, coaxing you to the edge
your hands grip his curls, ‘i’ve been wanting to mess these up all night’ you admit
and he growls into your heat, speeding up his movements
he shakes his head and lets you grind into his face as he focuses on your clit
and soon enough your back is arching, your eyes shutting closed and your body tenses around him, your thighs holding him close
he licks you up through your high and when your thighs loosen around him, he kisses your clit and sits up, rubbing your thighs soothingly
you sit up and kiss him slowly, passionately, letting your tongues taste each other as you feel each other up
‘come here,’ he mumbles between kisses while he moves around
he lies down on the bed and you go to straddle him when he stops you
‘just a little bit higher, love.’
your eyes widen, ‘you want me to sit on your face––’
‘been dreaming about it for a while now actually. please darling?’ he gives you those puppy dog eyes of his
and though you didn’t know if he meant metaphorically or literally, you decided to climb up, you’d figure it out later
you settle down on top of his mouth and he pulls you down, immediately getting to work as he watches you through hooded eyes
you’re still sensitive from your previous orgasm so you feel yourself get close quickly as he sucks on your clit
you mewl and he hums into your heat, loving the reactions your giving him
when he feels you about to tip over the edge he grabs your ass and helps you grind on his face as he flattens out his tongue
your thighs close around his head for the second time that night and his cock throbs at the sight of you and the feel of you pulsing on his tongue
he licks you clean and leaves soft kisses on your thighs as you come to your senses again
you get off of him and switch places
he licks his lips as he reaches over for a condom and puts it on
he watches you breath deeply, the light coating of sweat on your chest glistening under the soft light, your wet pussy
he strokes himself and lines up at your entrance, rubbing himself through your folds and teasing your clit
you can’t help but shiver and jolt at the feeling and he bites his lip, hiding his smile
‘you ready, darling?’ he asks, wanting to make sure you still want this
you nod, looking up at him and he slides in, bottoming out slowly
‘god you’re so wet for me––’
you can feel every inch as he enters you and your walls are so tight he’s sure he won’t last––just seeing you come already made him want to
he starts thrusting into you slowly, holding your thighs up as he moves his hips and the both of you let out a string of moans and curses
he hits the right spot inside of you and your eyes roll back as you whimper, your hands gripping his as they hold you open
‘always wanted to see how you roll your eyes while my cock’s inside you––’ he teases
you can’t even be bothered to reply with a witty comeback, he just feels too good
you wrap your arms and legs around him pushing him deeper inside you and he groans, his hands sliding down your body to rest on either side of you as he pounds you harder
‘god you feel so good angel’
your heart properly bursts at the new nickname, your limbs tightening around him as you turn and kiss his neck
he couldn’t help it, just watching you tonight at the dance and just now underneath him, it was the only name that seemed fitting
‘fuck, i’m close––’ he pants
you perk up and clench around him, wanting to make him feel good
he curses into your neck and keeps pounding you, sliding a hand down to rub at your clit
you jolt underneath him, moaning breathlessly at the feeling of his soft fingers in comparison to his hard thrusts
he reaches his high first, his hand and his hips not stopping until he feels you convulse around him
‘fuck––’
‘oh god tommy––’
he crashes his lips against yours and grinds his hips into you as you settle down from your orgasms
after a few moments of you giving each other soft kisses here and there, tom pulls out of you
he goes to discard the condom and leads you to the bathroom to pee, giving you a kiss on your forehead as he leaves you to do your business
it all feels very mundane and home-like and just warm
when you’re done, tom has a glass of water for the both of you and you take a sip before getting into bed and under the covers with him
he opens his arms and lets you slide in next to him, resting your head on his chest, wrapping your arm around him as he holds you close
after a while of comfortable silence, he speaks up
‘i’ve been wanting to do this for a really long time, you know’ he says absentmindedly as his fingers trace patterns on your waist
you nuzzle into him, ‘yeah?’
he hums, ‘always found you beautiful’
you’re glad he can’t see how flustered his words make you, ‘mm i always found you insufferably hot’
he laughs and his chest vibrates under you
‘insufferably?’
‘you know how you are’ a teasing tone to your voice as you answer
‘fair enough’
after a small pause you speak up hesitantly, ‘so...what now?’
you can hear and feel him take a sharp inhale before he responds, ‘well i was hoping i could take you out soon? i know we’re doing this all backwards but––i’d love to call you mine if that’s alright?’
you smile, delighted by his response, ‘i’d like that a lot.’
you can hear the smile in his voice, ‘yeah?’
you laugh, ‘yeah’ you kiss his chest and he squeezes your waist in response
the two of you talk for a little bit more and soon enough you drift off to sleep
tom drives you back to school on saturday to pick up your car after he made you breakfast, of course
and honestly he wasn’t a bad chef, he’d apparently learned from his younger brother
and if that didn’t make you fall for him more, you don’t know what would
he leaves you with a kiss and makes sure to wait until you’ve pulled off safely to make his way back home
when you come back to school the next week, your friends quickly bombard you in your office and practically drag you into the hallway
‘so we noticed you left with mr. charming on saturday...’
‘and left your car here’ they wiggle their eyebrows suggestively and you can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh
just before you answer tom walks in and winks at you, a grin on his face, before stepping into the office
oh he so knew what you guys were talking about
your friends turn to each other immediately,
‘oh they totally fucked’
‘definitely’
your eyes widen and you shush them aggressively
‘this is still a school you know??’ but you all fail to hide your laughter
‘so how was it?’ they ask
you turn to make sure no one’s listening and look back at them, biting your lip
‘pretty fucking amazing’
they shout and cheer and you slap them playfully telling them to calm down
‘i’ll tell you more about it later, now shoo.’
you make your way back into the office, a playful and slightly embarrassed smile on your face as you feel tom’s eyes watching your every move
he scoots over next to you when you’ve settled in your seat and you can feel his minty, tea flavored breath tickling your neck ‘so did you tell them about how you sat on my––’
‘shut up!’
he cackles and slides his way back to his desk
you’re walking down the hallway later on when you bump into a familiar face
‘oh hi harrison’
he lights up when he sees you ‘haven’t spoken to you in ages, y/n how are you? heard you and tom finally got together, about time––he’s been moaning about you for months now’
you can’t help but smile knowingly at the fact that he’d told his friend all about it just like you did
and speak of the devil, tom comes strolling in out of nowhere, and walks up to you and haz in the hallway
you can’t help the smirk on your face when you see him and he immediately knows something is up
‘what did this div tell you?’
and your smirk turns into a grin, ‘oh nothing, just how you’ve been obsessing over me for months now,’ the glint in your eyes brightens and tom turns to glare at his friend
‘right,’ harrison speaks up, laughing, ‘well i’ve got things to do, you know sports to coach or whatever so i’ll leave you to it!’ before running off
you get tom’s attention again, a teasing sing-song tone to your voice, ‘you’ve had a crush on me’
he smirks down at you, his hands sliding down to your waist, ‘don’t act like i didn’t see the way you would look at me, darling.’ he grabs your ass subtly, and you gasp as he presses you closer to him ‘we both had it bad.’
‘now be a good girl and get to class.’ he walks off leaving you there gaping like a fish, your cheeks heating up as students start crowding in
‘thomas!’
#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland fluff#tom holland smut#enemies to lovers#tom holland hc#tom holland headcanon#teacher!tom holland#teacher!tom holland x reader#teacher!tom holland x teacher!reader
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You said you needed ideas so hear me out-
Sfw- trans! Reader (ftm) with Tsukishima who gives tough love and hates it when you have really bad dysphoria days. Snaps at anyone who misgenders you.
NSFW- oikawa would be such a tease when you get needy and shit. Like this fucker would tease you after you beg because he told you to beg.
Thank you, thank you, thank you!! You have given me brain fuel, and for that. I love you 🧡
I have never written something in one day. Thank you, you have truly inspired me 😩👏
TW for Tsukishima: deadnaming and misgendering, deadname is your choice, but Y/n will be for your new name and Y/d/n for your dead name because no dads are mentioned here. Gets a little angsty but they figure it out.
I didn’t want to be disrespectful to anyone and choose a name that might be someone’s new name or dead name.
Also I’m sorry if my writing isn’t accurate for a ftm character. I did my best and I really hope you like it!
I did my best with the tough love but it does get a bit fluffy tbh.
Kei Tsukishima
Kei always tries.
He really does. You guys had started dating before you came out, and the switch from your dead name to Y/n had him caught off guard.
So did the sudden shift of pronouns.
But he didn’t leave, so he was trying to do his best all right?
But he’s already bad with emotions, these are a different kind that he doesn’t even know how to approach.
So he gives it the same energy he does with everything else.
Today though.
Something was very odd about today.
His normal words had you flashing him your best fake smile and turning away from him.
And trust me, he could tell the difference.
But for now, he chose not to comment.
Will it be one of those days today?
You didn’t like to talk about your Dysphoria but Kei always picked up on it.
Or at least he tried to.
He even had a custom made chest binder coming in the mail that should be here any day now.
But when you leave the room after Kei’s not incorrect but painfully blunt statement went straight to your very soul.
He replays the conversation in his head to see where he messed up.
He found himself doing that a lot.
‘I get that you’re trying Kei. It just sucks that other people don’t even bother.’
‘I don’t really think it’s that big of a deal. They’re stupid people who don’t even matter at least I’m trying. Imagine if I wasn’t?’
It made you question everything.
Did he even want to be trying?
Why are you being a nuisance?
Why are you putting him through this. He’s got much more important things to be focusing on as a senior in college this year.
You’re finally being true to yourself and putting him through unnecessary stress aren’t you? What is wrong with you?
All of these thoughts and more swarmed your head as you leaned against the bathroom counter trying to catch your breathing.
Stop it. Stop being such a big crybaby.
Kei Tsukishima doesn’t need a crybaby.
Why does it have to hurt so damn bad to just be a girl? He’d like you so much more as a girl.
“Y/n..?” His voice sounds so tired.
Damn it Y/n. Get your fucking shit together.
���Please talk to me.. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that babe.. I just-“ his eyes almost seem dull when you open the door, only to brighten when you open the door and he gets a good view of you.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that, I just- I don’t, I don’t know how to handle this sometimes, but I don’t want you to think I don’t care. It’s just new, and I can get adjusted-“ he feels his heart clench a bit when your next words come out.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t just stay who I was, I’m sorry I couldn’t just be a girl for-“ and he’s grabbing your face with his palms as tears start to well up in his eyes.
“Shut up. Shut up, because I love you however I can have you. I love you. I just want you, please don’t get confused and think I have a preference because I just want you Y/n. I love you, no matter who you are. Please don’t forget that.” The tears streaming down your face slow as he kisses your head and wraps his arms around you.
“Im sorry Kei.” He kisses your head again.
“Shh, stop it. Stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for babe, we do need to finish getting ready for class though okay?” You nod and he smiles.
———
When you get to school, he can almost feel the anxiety wafting from you.
But he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around you and pull you along with him.
“You have me, okay? I’m just as much yours as you are mine babe.” You nod and expect him to pull him arm away, and he does, only to entangle his hand in yours.
“Tsukishima!” No- because he recognizes that annoyingly high pitched voice, and he’s not in the mood for it. Nor will you be.
So he picks up speed. Keeping his hand tight around yours and pulling you in front of him, only to wrap his arms around you slightly and speed up even more.
“Kei what are you doing?” You think he’s going to ignore you until he speaks up finally.
“Don’t want to deal with her.”
“Y/d/n can you-“ he stops right in his tracks and turns around to acknowledge the blonde.
“Alisa is it? See how easy was that? I wasn’t even sure. You know for a fact that isn’t the proper name that he goes by. So correct yourself, or don’t talk to my boyfriend or me. Got it?” She goes to speak again but Tsukishima already has you two walking again and his ears are flushed.
“Tsuki-?” You’re blushing and he tightens his grip on your waist.
“It wasn’t right, I’ll correct anyone who gets it wrong. Even myself.” You smiled and he manages to crack a small one.
Kei Tsukishima always tries.
———————————————————————
NSFW CONTENT AHEAD
I didn’t know if you still wanted a ftm character so this one is just written female.
READ RESPONSIBLY PLEASE
Characters aged up 18+
“Beg.” You scoffed.
“I don’t beg.” Your hips are rising as he pressed his thumb harder against your clit and you whimper.
“I won’t do anything more until you beg.” You rolled your eyes and attempt to sit up. Only for him to wrap a hand around your throat and push you back down.
“Toru, I don’t beg-“ he tightens his grip around your throat and you whine.
“I said, beg.” The way he demands it in your ear has your thighs attempting to clam shut.
Key word, attempting.
“Are you gonna listen to a single thing I say princess? Or am I gonna have to leave you here like this?” You looked up at him desperately and his grip around your neck loosens a bit.
“Please, please just fuck me already. I need it Toru, it’s been too long please just do it already-“ you’re cut off with whines as his tip prods at your entrance, but the pressure on your clit is still hard and you know he’s waiting for more.
“Please! Please fuck me! I need you Toru please!” He chuckles and pushes in agonizingly slowly.
“Like you said babe, it’s been too long. I need to go easy on your pretty pussy.” You whine at that.
“Don’t want you to go easy- just fuck me rough please!” Tears of frustration pool in your eyes and he laughs.
“Awe, don’t cry princess, I’ll give you what you want. You begged so nicely.” The sudden snap of his hips has you unable to respond to his taunt.
Yeah so what you begged. You’re getting dicked down by this god of a man. I’d say that’s a win.
His hands were both on your hips now as he thrusted into as if his life depended on it.
“Missed you so much.” He whines and a particularly hard thrust has you reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck.
The new position has you sliding down on his dick so much easier, and the way he can just lift you up and down quickly has him whining more.
“M’gonna cum. Off.” He whimpers as you tighten and start to lift yourself off and grabs your hips. He’s never cum so fast but you don’t mind.
“T-Toru-!” He gasps as you tighten more and his hips thrust up desperately.
“Nevermind, I wanna cum inside. Please, please let me cum inside. You feel so good, just wanna cum inside your warm pussy hnngh~ please!” His hips are starting to falter and you know he’s getting closer as his hands tighten around your waist, lifting you up and down to meet with his sloppy thrusts.
“Please!” He’s begging and you almost laugh.
“Oh god please, just wanna cream inside you please!” He has to stop thrusting and you’d almost think he did cum.
But you knew better. His nails digging into your hips and his ragged breathing against your neck has you melting.
“Did you even really have to ask? Just cum babe.” Your words are so nonchalant that he’s whining and picking up his thrusts again.
“fuckfuckfuckohfuckyes” his voice is messy and it’s almost gibberish.
But as you tighten around him and his hips falter he’s moaning and whimpering into your chest and neck.
“So tight, ngHh shit~” he moans whorishly as you cum around him and cum spurts out of him and into you.
“You fuck me so good. So so good Y/n.” His hips are still sputtering and you’re wondering just how long it’s been since he’s actually gotten off.
“Thank you, Thank you so fucking much baby.” His cum is already spilling out of you and he’s still finishing.
This’ll be a fun cleanup.
He finally lays you down on the bed and lays his head in between the valley on your chest as he catches his breath.
“You begged.” He wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, making you whimper while he stays inside of you.
“Do I need to remind you how you sounded when you wanted to cum Toru?” His head shoots up at that and his cheeks flush.
“But you’re so warm. So tight and comfy. I didn’t and still don’t want to leave.” He whines and wiggles his hips upward and you whimper. You can’t help but clench as he thrusts up again and whines again.
He keeps up the occasional thrusts. Neither of you have the energy for a second round. That much is obvious. But the bliss is overwhelming.
“Don’t want to pull out yet. Please don’t make me.” He whines and you just clench around him to tease.
“Fuck. Don’t do that. M’still hard and I’m ninety percent sure if you keep doing that I’m gonna stuff your already full pussy again.” You hummed and he wraps his arms around you.
“Empty threats. We’re both too tired, you know we’ll just go again when we wake up.”
“I’m gonna get you pregnant.” He says it confidently, you couldn’t even laugh at the statement. Because he probably and most definitely will.
“I mean if that’s what you want, I wouldn’t mind having a little Oikawa running around.” Almost all his stamina is back in that moment.
Congratulations you have unlocked
Breeding King with Toru Oikawa 🔓
Neither of you ended up sleeping that night.
#oikawa smut#tsukishima fluff#ftm reader#haikyuu!! smut#slight angst#body dysphoria#tsukishima angst#god theyre so pretty
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Tea for 3
Erwin x Levi x gn!Reader Headcanons
Scenario: the three of you decide to open up a tea shop together
Warnings: none!
Genre: fluff! Polyamory
Universe: Modern AU!
A/N: it’s a little short, but it’s definitely sweet. These headcanons have been on my mind a LOT and I just had to write them down. I feel like I mostly write polyamory stuff (even my private work is like 70% polyamory) but I am working on monogamous relationship stories as we speak! Should I keep writing polyamory? 🤔
First of all, it was Levi’s idea to open up a tea shop, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. He had first brought it up out of curiosity to see what you or Erwin thought. It wasn’t brought up again till Erwin found a little shop that was up for sale, to which Levi pretended not to be excited; in truth, if Levi was better at expressing himself he would have been jumping up and down with pure happiness.
Levi will probably need some convincing to actually go for this opportunity. I can see him being a little insecure as to whether he deserves such a chance at this; so hearing the two of you, the people he loves most, give him so much affection and encouragement he couldn’t refuse.
You three spend long nights together designing the interior and exterior of the tea shop; going for a sleek botanical look with a hint of rustic charm.
You were the creative of the three, designing the logo and even the menu; Erwin would be like 😧 being super impressed with your talents. He is very good with his hands in the DIY department, but can barely draw a stick figure!
You decide to call the tea shop Ackerman & Co. (as much as Levi tried to argue against it, it is of course his dream and thought it would be a lovely gesture of yours and Erwin’s love towards him). Needless to say, Levi loved your reasoning and eventually accepted it.
The three of you visiting the store before buying it, Erwin ever so vigilant with his questions. From “Is there a persistent mould problem” to “are the neighbours noisy?”
Luckily it seems things are perfect, the store is located just off the high streets but close enough to attract some wandering customers. A little detail I would like to add is that the store is close to a cathedral and one of Levi’s favourite things to do (especially at night) is to open a window and listen out to the bell chimes.
“Is it big enough for your bed?” The answer to that is yes! As you insisted that the three of you share a King size bed (although Levi doesn’t sleep that often as it is, he still enjoys the company) you worry that the living space may not be enough. Don’t worry, Erwin sized out the place; he measured the entire flat above the shop out with only a measuring tape.
You ask Miche, Hange and Moblit for help when it comes to building up the tea shop! From painting to decorating, Hange goes a little overboard with the plants, but it only adds to the charm. “Who the hell is going to water all of these?” Levi groaned, “don’t worry love, I will” you reassure him, he will of course make you keep a diary so you can keep an eye out and record watering times!
Erwin insists on adding a bookshelf into the shop; this means that customers can read whilst they are there, even setting up a weekly book club! You also suggest keeping a spot out for a book exchange, keeping an on-going flow of new content for the regular customers.
Before you officially open the shop, Kutchel (Levi’s mum) visits with a gift; it is a large kettle decorated with a giant green bow to ‘baptise’ the place (also came with a bouquet of flowers because she is a sweetheart). “I am so proud of you baby”
Levi won’t cry, but he’ll cry
Let me just say, Kutchel adores the two of you and is so proud and glad that Levi has people in his life who adore him as much as his mother does (although initially explaining polyamory to her was a challenge, she just didn’t understand at first! But she supports and loves you once she grasped the concept!)
The first day of opening was BUSY. Little did you three know, but Hange had invited EVERYONE they knew and even going up to people in the streets to come to the opening.
The most confident was Erwin, he was the main spokesperson in announcing your new place. Levi barely spoke, mostly to contain himself from just crying out of happiness. So to keep his strength, he will hold onto your hand all night, giving it tender squeezes if he started to feel overwhelmed.
Levi would be the manager, mainly working on the teas and coffee orders, Erwin is most definitely the baker, making muffins and cookies and all sorts! You were the waiter/waitress but you also had your hand in baking and/or tea making when it was needed!
You put up a message board in the main room so that customers and/or friends and family can leave post-it-notes on the board. Most of the notes you get are compliments of the establishment, but you will get the occasional “I love Erwin/Levi/Y/N” notes from your loved ones; those notes you keep up forever. - if ever you get any missing cat posters, Levi will make it his mission to look for said cat.
Levi insists on getting WIFI, but Erwin annoyingly will point out the large bookcase, stating that books are enough. He does eventually give in, but will purposefully set the password annoyingly long and complicated for the sake of being petty. The password would look something like L1v1nYNrmYl0vr$
You notice that Levi spends more time in bed with you three! He has definitely settled down a lot more, feeling so much joy that his dream came to light. You and Erwin of course enjoy the extra person to cuddle in bed.
Frequent visits from your friends, Hange will bring their laptop into the cafe to finish their thesis or other scientific reports; they would quite literally spend all day there and will sleep on the sofa if they could get away with it. - you do at least have a spare bedroom so if Hange stays too late, they have a place to sleep.
Levi putting out cat food for the local strays, a cute little quirk you only started noticing when a dozen cats were lined up outside the back entrance of the store.
The tea shop will of course be successful, so Levi decides to experiment and start his own line of teas. Starting off with the basic breakfast and earl greys and then into the fruity and herbal teas. Once he got his customers approval and satisfaction, he then sells the tea bags (and loose tea leaves) to customers to take home. He calls his tea ‘Teas of Freedom’ (like wings of freedom lmao) which become very popular.
GLASS TEAPOTS; you get to see the water change into beautiful colours once the teas infuse. The most popular being the jasmine tea where the flower blooms when the hot water is applied; Erwin’s face lights up EVERY TIME Levi prepares this kind of tea.
Can you imagine Levi’s face when someone comes in and asks for a Starbuck’s like order, he would be like “HUH???” But don’t worry, you step in and take the order effortlessly; Levi is a tea man, coffee is somewhat a foreign concept to him.
On quiet days, Erwin will come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, whispering sweet nothing into your ear and rocks you side to side. This man is so in love with you. He does this to Levi but not as often...mostly because even on not so busy days Levi is busy.
Imagine catching quick little kisses whilst its busy, hugging is one thing but a quick kiss on the cheek is honestly so cute; Levi would 100% get distracted and a lot more clumsy if you plant a forehead kiss on him whilst he’s preparing tea.
EEEEP I hope you enjoyed it!! I love EURI as it is, but being a x reader it meant I got an excuse to write them!
#levi x erwin x reader#levi x erwin#euri#eruri#eruri x reader#erwin x levi x reader#erwin x reader#levi x reader#erwin smith#levi Ackerman#attack on titan modern au#attack on titan#levi headcanons#erwin x you#snk erwin
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Checkmate
Word Count: 3.9K
Warnings: incest, breeding, gaslighting, manipulation
AO3 Link
Moving out from your parents’ house had been refreshing so far. You had the privacy you never thought you could have which meant that you could do whatever you wanted at any given time without being judged.
There was something so alluring about being able to live so freely. You found yourself relaxed and much calmer. At least it would be if it weren’t for your brother coming in to check on you whenever he wanted.
Annoyingly enough he had taken your spare key without your permission so there was no way of keeping him out of your apartment. When you came back home from your classes or part-time work, he would be sitting on your couch with his foot on your table or sometimes you found him messing up your room, going through your clothes and everything.
No matter how many times you told him to not visit your place when you weren’t at home, he didn’t listen.
“I’m just looking out for you.”
Both of you knew that wasn’t the case.
~~~
The second cup of instant coffee in the middle of the night was enough to cause heart palpitation, you rubbed your temples, shutting your eyes and groaning silently. The headache from lack of sleep was almost unbearable but you had to bite it. It was another late night of trying to finish your assignments on time, you had been at work all day so the nighttime was all you had left to finish them before Friday.
This week was going to be brutal, you leaned back in your chair before getting up to get some painkillers.
You went to the kitchen, opened the small cabinet and grabbed two pills, swallowed them without the help of water. You checked the time from the clock sitting on the wall, almost midnight. You still had some things left to do but you also had to get up super early in the morning the next day for a morning lecture, you groaned silently once again, not really ready to walk back into the living room to finish the work left as soon as possible.
The kitchen table was empty save for the cigarettes you had bought a couple of days ago. While you did smoke, you liked smoking in secret. People all had expectations from you and you didn’t want to disappoint them. You couldn’t help but feel bad about it.
The windows were open so the house wouldn’t stink of cigarettes when for the next time Gojo trespassed. Or if. You weren’t sure if he would be able to return back after how you scolded him last time. You kind of hoped he would because no matter how childish he could be, you still had a soft spot for him.
A thump at the door interrupted your night smoke. It wasn’t a knock and it made you throw your cigarette out the window when you heard the soft click noise from your lock being unlocked. In a hasty fanning motion, you tried to get rid of the rest of the smoke you had exhaled before closing the window.
Although from the giggling you could easily tell that it was your brother, when you went to the entrance of your apartment, you were still surprised to see him.
Gojo’s cheeks were flushed faintly pink and he had a large grin on his face, he was giggling to himself as he tried to shimmy off from his jacket. His motions were sluggish, somewhat not as smooth as they usually were.
He was drunk.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.
He tried to take off his shoes, still unaware of your gaze on him, and lost his balance, falling onto the floorboard with a loud thud. He giggled to himself before finally managing to kick off his shoes.
“What are you doing here?” you asked in a serious tone.
Gojo whipped his head around and as soon as his eyes met yours over his sunglasses he smiled brightly, “Ahh, (name)! Listen, I was at this Korean barbeque restaurant with Nanami and he said he would pay for everything so I ate a lot of beef. I don’t think I will eat your food again so don’t worry about that.”
He was already back up on his feet, had taken off his sunglasses, and was swaying as he walked towards the living room.
“I’m not worried about that,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. You couldn’t deal with him today. “Satoru, you’re drunk.”
“Is it that obvious?” He rubbed the back of his neck while snickering. His eyes landed on your laptop on the table next to the couch. “Don’t worry, I’ll crash on the couch and will be gone by the morning, you won’t even know I am here.”
You opened your mouth to reject it but he already had thrown himself on your couch. With an audible sigh, you sat in front of your laptop once again to finish up your work.
Like he promised, Gojo was quiet, he didn’t talk or tried to start weird conversations as he would. It was past two o’clock in the morning when you were done writing all of your assignments. You stretched your arms above your head, going to the bathroom with just glancing over Gojo’s back, he looked like he was sleeping. You had to go to bed as well.
Once you returned to the living room, you crouched next to the couch to watch his sleeping back. Your hand hesitantly reached to touch his hair, you knew he had his infinity turned on almost at every time so you wouldn’t be able to touch him but unlike any other time, your fingertips were able to dive into his soft hair.
A sharp gasp left you and you carded your fingers through his hair slowly. When was the last time you had managed to touch him like this? You didn’t know the answer.
It was always him who usually flicked a finger on your forehead or had his knuckles digging into your scalp to tease you but it was never more than that after you made him promise. In the end, it was your promise who made him feel uncomfortable.
Twisting his silky straight hair around your finger, you tried to see if it would hold the curl but as soon as you let it fall, it went back to being straight.
You wished you could be like this all the time but he was always pushing you away from his life. You knew it could get you in trouble if you were around him yet you couldn’t help but wish to spend more time with him as you used to when you were younger.
You missed him, you missed his arms embracing you and you missed the way he would give you affection. Nowadays it was impossible with his infinity stopping you but today was different.
“Satoru?” You called out to him, he didn’t respond as you started petting his head. Ahh, you had missed him more than you could put it into words. “Satoru.” You poked his cheek with your finger, “You should sleep in the guest room.”
He suddenly pulled you in his arms. You squeaked in surprise but kept it quiet since he was playing around. He was faking to be in sleep to toy with you like he used to. A muffled laugh escaped him as you struggled to break free from his hold.
“You smell so good.” Gojo buried his face to the crook of your neck, which made you chuckle happily, “It’s my perfume,” you stated. Gojo hummed in response, inhaling your scent deeply and pecking on your cheeks.
“You’re drunk,” you breathed, trying to pull him flush against yourself, giggling mischievously to hide your blushing cheeks.
“And you’re so warm.” He pressed himself against you and you acknowledged something firm pressing on the cleft of your ass.
“Satoru,” you let out an enticing moan suddenly. Gojo lifted his head up to look at you with his blushed cheeks. His bright eyes looked right inside your soul and beyond, you saw nothing but; kind, gentle affection in them. “We said we’d stop.”
There was a long pause.
“What?” Dumbfounded, he stared at you for a little longer, giving himself time to think and realize that it wasn’t a dream he thought he was having. “I- Sorry.”
The way he looked away from you in shame made your throat clench. It was just an embrace between the two of you and it was you who ruined it. You were the one who made it weird or were you just trying to give him the idea.
When he made a move to move away, you held onto his shoulders to keep him in place, “Stay.”
He froze in his place and didn’t dare to move.
Your small hands pulled him into your arms and he meekly laid back on the couch as you placed your head on his chest. With your ear pressed on his chest like this, you could hear his heartbeat. It was beating abnormally fast.
“Let’s stay like this for a moment,” you said, coaxing him into relenting. Liar.
Gojo was trying to be careful, trying to leave some space in between but you didn’t let him. You got him where you wanted, he had nowhere to run between you and the couch’s pillows.
“I missed being like this,” you whispered. So sly. “Why don’t we embrace each other like this anymore?” You pressed your chest against his.
He gulped loudly, eyes looking anywhere but your deep cleavage that was visible through the oversized shirt. That was his shirt, he noticed. Biting his lip, he tried to calm himself down as your tits were being pushed against his chest.
“I-I don’t know.” You clearly weren’t wearing a bra. There was nothing that could distract him in this room from how soft the supple of your tits felt against his chest no matter how hard he looked.
“I miss you, Satoru.” Like a spider threading a web to catch its prey, you were discreetly moving your hips towards his, planting the idea in his head so you wouldn’t have to feel guilty. “Your body feels so lean, have you been working out?”
Good, as long as you talk about stuff that seems innocent enough you could convince him. He liked getting compliments, especially when they came from his little sister.
“Yeah,” he replied, he gulped again.
You placed a hand on his chest to feel his muscles over the thin fabric of his shirt. “Yeah,” you echoed, looking up to him as your hand went to feel his abs. “Ah, it feels so tight .”
His breath hitched from the way you said it.
Just a little push.
One single push.
After that, he would break.
Gojo could never resist his little sister.
“(name),” he uttered, his voice faint. Alcohol was still slurring his mind, it was impossible for him to think straight. No, he realized. I’m not drunk. He was completely sober. The alcohol he had consumed was mostly gone, he could think normally and it wouldn’t affect his decision-making. He only hoped he was drunk so he could blame his feelings on the alcohol.
“Big brother,” you called. “Are you okay? You look feverish.”
He was being held by a single thread.
Your wiggling hips or puppy eyes or wandering hands could make him snap at any time.
Gojo grabbed your wrists and took you under him. “Stop that,” he hissed, his usual bubbly tone gone.
“Stop what?” You stared up at him with feigned innocence.
He was taken aback by your answer, staring back at you with wide eyes. Confused. How depraved did he have to be to think that you were trying to seduce him? He felt ashamed of himself, as always he was blaming you for his feelings.
At least that was what you made him think.
“(name),” his voice softened as he spoke. “I think you should go to bed.” He let go of your wrists and dragged a hand down his face instead. “I don’t feel like myself.”
“Satoru, it’s okay,” you whispered gently, sitting up on the couch to further provoke him but when you reached to touch him, your hand stopped in mid-air.
Ah, it was over. You missed your chance.
Silence filled the room.
“I get it,” you suddenly said. You couldn’t hide that you were upset. “It’s my fault again, isn’t it?”
“No,” Gojo replied. “I’m the one who said we would stop and I’m the one getting weird ideas. It’s not your fault that I failed as your big brother, (name).”
“You didn’t fail anyone. You’re the best big brother I could’ve asked for.” You looked into his eyes, fuck me, big brother, fuck me, fuck me-
You were feeding his ego, hoping to make him drop his guard.
You weren’t even bad, you were evil.
Somehow it worked. Gojo’s infinity disappeared and you felt him pull you into a hug. “Don’t look so sad,” he said, tightening his arms around you, “I wouldn’t break our promise.”
This wasn’t working. He was never going to stop blaming himself or make a move on you. For this time, it had to be you who needed to make a move.
Take the blame.
“Your promise,” you sulked as you reminded him. He pulled away from the hug to stare at you. “It was your promise, I didn’t promise anything. It was all you like you always do. You didn’t even think about my feelings.”
His mouth opened to say something but you continued, raising your voice.
“You act like nothing happened when you were the one who made me this way. I moved out so I wouldn’t have to see you when you visited but you just keep coming back. How do you expect me to move on when you’re not letting me?”
It was like time had frozen, the two of you were alone in a void.
“I-I didn’t know you felt that way-”
“You didn’t care,” you snapped. “I’m not just some mistake. I’m your little sister. You can’t keep seeing me as a mistake.”
Your words must have affected him deeply because the next thing you know it, he had his arms around you once again, apologizing continuously. “What can I do?” he asked, broken.
“I want you to embrace me.” Fuck me until my pussy is oozing with your cum.
“(name) we can’t, you know that I can’t hold myself back.”
“Then don’t.”
The thread holding together Gojo’s urges snapped.
I barely took him a second to pull you up to his lap, his clothed cock was already painfully hard against your ass.
You gasped and he harshly pressed his lips against yours, sloppily kissing you until you started drooling. He had forgotten how easy it was to make a mess out of you.
His lips moved to your neck, biting your neck as he placed your hands to his chest. His hands moved south, one hand groped your ass and the other went inside your shirt.
“You’re a bad sister,” he murmured, earning a silent chuckle from you. “Always seducing me.” He moaned into your ear, making your lower part tremble in need. He used his fingers to tease your nipples, hoping to get cute moans from his little sister.
He moved his hips, pressing his rock-hard erection onto your ass, rubbing himself on you. He was still wearing his jeans and you were wearing your pajama pants, the friction was stronger on your end.
“Satoru, I-I can’t wait anymore,” you begged. “Please…” Your breath tickled his face as your hips stopped moving.
“If you want it so bad, then do it yourself.”
You had never thought there would be a time in your life where the word ‘ it ’ would be used to identify your big brother’s cock.
“I-I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I-I want you to touch me.” You blushed bright red and pressed your face into his neck to cover your embarrassment.
“I won’t touch you,” Gojo said, gaining confidence while you lost yours. “You have to touch me if you really can’t keep your hands to yourself.”
You realized how you had become the prey in your own game.
A shiver ran down your spine as you lifted your head to look at him. He was serious. Defeated, your hands started fiddling with his pants, once you managed to unzip his pants, he lifted his hips up to pull them down to give you a little bit of help.
Next came his shirt, with shaky fingers you unbuttoned it and helped him take it off. Now, he was under you, sitting on your couch, only in his underwear.
Your eyes were locked on his lean muscles, you faintly caressed his abs with your fingers before your gaze dropped further down. His rock-hard cock was aching to be released, if you wanted it, you had to do it yourself.
His clothed erection was already poking at your stomach when you decided to stroke his cock over the thin fabric with your hand.
Gojo bit back a groan as you slipped down from his lap and onto your knees, your hand still massaging his clothed cock. His eyes landed on you, you looked like you belonged there. Right between his legs and on your knees.
You hooked a finger under the waistband of his underwear and pulled it down, Gojo lifted his hips to help you once again to get the last piece of clothing from you touching him out of the way.
With one hand planted on his knee, you wrapped your other hand around the base of his cock after licking your palm to make it wet.
Gojo’s cock throbbed in your hand, it was heavier than how you remembered it to be. You slowly pumped his cock once and then again but this time you tightened your grip around the tip to pull the excess skin down to expose his glistening tip to your eyes.
Like hypnotized, you closed the distance between your face and your brother’s cock. Opening your mouth, you lolled out your tongue to trace it over a vein from the base to the pink tip.
Gojo hissed through his teeth, his large hand grabbed a chunk of your hair, pulling you towards his aching cock.
You continued jerking him off and finally decided to take him into your mouth. As soon as your lips closed around the girth of his cock, Gojo let out a moan.
He placed a hand on the back of your head and moved his hips, thrusting into your mouth out of a sudden. His cock grazed the back of your throat, making you tear up but Gojo was lost in chasing his own pleasure.
He pushed your head down to his cock until your nose touched the colorless pubes on his groin. When you panicked as you tried to take a breath, he managed to push himself even further down in your throat before starting to fuck your face.
By the time he remembered that you needed to breathe and pulled himself out, his cock was already twitching. Released from the pressure of your throat so suddenly made him unable to hold himself from cumming.
Thick spurts of his seed landed on your face and you managed to catch some in your mouth. Your throat bobbed as you swallowed the salty fluid at the same time as you were trying hard to catch your breath.
Never the one to be considerate, Gojo grabbed you by your waist and lifted you easily up to get you back on his lap. He was still hard, his cock hadn’t deflated at all. Holding the hem of your shirt, he quickly pulled it up and over your head, exposing your bare chest to his hungry eyes. He used your shirt to wipe his seed off your face, chuckling to himself when you whined.
His warm hands copper your tits, kneading the supple flesh as you were trying to get rid of your pajama pants because you needed him so badly. You needed to have his cock inside you.
It didn’t take you too long until you got naked and positioned yourself on top of Gojo’s cock. He was watching you intently as you guided the tip of his cock into your entrance and slowly lowering yourself on the length.
His cock was stretching you out, it almost felt like you were a second away from being split into two. You never managed to get used to his girth and from the way you can see, he had never gotten used to how tight you were. Gojo’s eyes were hazy in a burning desire, he looked like a tiger ready to pounce on its prey.
Knowing your brother was watching you carefully, you slammed yourself down on his cock, taking his entire length inside your little cunt all in one sitting. Both of you moaned loudly, the couch creaked and Gojo’s hands grabbed you by your hips, nails digging in your flesh.
After a moment to catch your breath, you lifted yourself up and started picking a pace for yourself to bounce on his cock. One hand on your clit, rubbing tiny circles over the muscle and the other on your brother’s throat, you lost yourself in pleasure.
You weren’t sure if you were squeezing his neck because of all the build-up from when all the times he refused to fuck you or because you wanted to feel in control but it was helping you get off.
Gojo was enjoying himself as much as you were, he was helping you bounce yourself on his cock and giving you words of praises. He knew you liked to be praised for how well you were taking his cock or how much of a good girl you were.
That was all it took for your gummy walls to clench around his cock, trying to milk it for all he was worth.
Cursing under his breath, Gojo threw his head back on the couch, he couldn’t hold back anymore, not when you were this needy. His hips started to move and he started to slam into you as you were slamming yourself down onto his cock.
You came loose almost immediately. Your hands rubbing tight circles on your clit fastened and your legs started shaking.
Gojo didn’t want to waste an opportunity and slammed into your twitching pussy like his life depended on it, chasing after his second orgasm. Both of you came at the same time, your orgasm rocked you to the core and you left limp on your brother. Gojo snapped his hips one last time and buried his cock deep inside you to cum inside your pussy. The thought of him breeding his little sister made his cock throb violently but he could never say that out loud. You were smart enough to use your brother’s depraved thoughts against him.
As he came inside, his seed filled your womb and overflowed in your pussy. The rest started leaking out from you and dripped onto the couch, leaving a stain like many others.
Without pulling out, he wrapped his arms around you and brushed some of your hair away from your face to press a kiss against your forehead, whispering goodnight.
You mumbled it back, tummy full and satisfied.
In the morning, you woke up in your bed, wrapped in your Gojo’s arms. His sleeping face was peaceful, lips parted slightly, and face relaxed. An endearing smile spread across your face and you decided it wouldn’t hurt to skip the morning lecture to spend more quality time with your big brother.
#nobody saw anything ok?#i changed the name of the fic#thank you my dear follower passionatum for the idea#love you <3#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader
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Your Hisoka headcanons were so good😭 and i completely agree with all of them- I wanted request something, u can ignore if u want. 🏃
I am just thinking of a scenario where Hisoka got hurt, by someone who 'cheated' in the fight maybe, and his first instinct was to go to his 'friend's place. And Reader helps him without hesitation, they're even worried and stuff. And he is just like "are they just so naive or dumb? Kind? What do they get from this? And tf is this feeling in my chest? A poison maybe-" Maybe hcs? Or an oneshot? Whatever you like to do. Have a good day or night!:)💛 damn i wrote too much lol sorry
This warms my heart. Thank you SO MUCH for your support!!! And no, you did not write too much! I love having my ego stroked ;) 😂 seriously tho I love hearing from you guys!
I love this prompt. I hope that I was able to bring this to life for you, please feel free to request more!
To be honest, I’m not really happy with how this turned out, but I haven’t written in a long time and feel really rusty. I may rewrite it at some point, because I thought of a different way this could also go! At any rate, I hope you enjoy it.
Word Count: 2880 (yeh, it’s a long one :o)
A little song inspiration I had:
As The World Caves In: Matt Maltese
Hisoka x Reader One-Shot: The Man Beneath the Monster
...
Well... this wasn't supposed to happen.
Currently, the jester of everyone's nightmares lay on the ground, golden eyes staring up at the dull night sky while shrapnel and debris etched patterns into his back, remnants of the attack he'd just barely survived. Hisoka didn't normally have much of a problem mowing through his opponents- but then again, they usually didn't possess the ability to play with their enemy's mind. It was insanely unfair, the way he'd been attacked, and while it had been an interesting battle to say the least, Hisoka had barely pulled through.
Admittedly, he was invigorated by the feeling of almost being beaten- save for the searing pain that inched its way through every nerve in his body. Hisoka wasn't usually so affected by pain in general- in fact, more often than not, it gave him a certain indescribable gratification. He tended to brush off the feeling of most wounds he obtained during battle, distracting himself with shuffling his cards or fantasizing about the next battle he'd be facing. Only this time, if he didn't get help, he wasn’t sure there would BE another battle.
Hisoka strained himself to sit up, and looked down at his body, analyzing just how much damage he'd sustained. A deep gash opened up his chest, revealing glimpses of the muscular content underneath, and it was oozing a lot of blood. His arms and legs were burned, and some of the skin was a little charred, which smelled just lovely against the night breeze.
This is going to be difficult to cover with Texture Surprise... he thought, forcing himself a bit angrily to his feet, when he heard the cracking of the joints in his left ankle, indications of a break. He needed medical attention, badly. His gash wasn't going to heal itself, and he would bleed to death within hours if it didn’t get bandaged.
But where could he go? Hospitals wouldn't dare take him- even though he was a hunter, most people wouldn't be caught within miles of him, let alone would provide him any remedy. In fact, most people thought the world would be better off if he were dead anyway.
Maybe they were right.
He chuckled a little at the thought, but as he tried to brush those creeping inner fears off, he soon realized that his normal detached approach wasn't going to work this time. Already, his legs were getting weaker, and his vision was getting a little darker by the second. In that moment of weakness, when he felt the most vulnerable, the magician was puzzled by the singular thought that came to his mind.
Y/N.
She was a girl he’d encountered more than a few times in his travels; not by accident, but through carefully orchestrated meetings he initiated himself. She was strong in his eyes, which was not a compliment that he offered freely, especially to someone who didn’t regularly seek out altercations to smash their enemies. She was strong in a different way- not because of her nen or battle tactics- but because of her resolve. He found it intriguing that she didn’t run at the sight of him (even when he popped up behind her in the park), and he liked that she wasn't afraid to tell him exactly where he could shove his cards, if warranted. Y/N was appealing to him in an indescribable way that made him continue to think up excuses to meet her ‘randomly’- but he could never put his finger on what it was that made her unique. However, through brief conversations and what he considered to be highlights of his travels, he’d gotten to know her only a little, but he hardly had enough contact with her to call her a ‘friend’.
It wasn't like she had any special sort of healing nen. She probably couldn't help him anyway. But if he did bleed out, and his last thought had to be of something...l it might as well be of her.
The pink-haired clown looked to the city up ahead in the distance- he was close to her house already. It didn't take him long to get there; Y/N lived on the outskirts of town in a small place away from most other homes.
It was a place he knew well, although he'd never been inside. He'd spent more than a few long nights watching the residence from the rooftop of a distant neighboring home as he denied his human emotions. He often watched her pack groceries, or try to figure out why her porch light wasn't working (which he certainly had nothing to do with), or watch TV on the couch all alone.
Hisoka quite liked those stupid romantic comedies that played late at night on the local channel. His only opportunity to watch them was through her window- and in his mind, he was sure that she left the subtitles on because she can somehow sense his presence. She usually fell asleep watching those, and missed the part where the hero gets the girl. He always watched that part with particular interest, but he can't figure out what makes the protagonists so special to each other. If there was a feeling that caused them to sacrifice so much for one another… he sure didn’t know what it could be.
But he's not a hero, so why would he know what that feels like?
As Hisoka reached her door and lifted his hand to the doorknob, not bothering to knock, a pang of what could only be anxiety ripped through him. It was well past 2 AM, and he knew she had things to do early in the morning. Their previous encounters had been abnormal, to say the least, complete with him teasing her and being a douchebag. He's been nothing but an annoyance to Y/N, so why would she help him?
As soon as he was about to pull his hand away, the door swung open, revealing a disheveled looking y/n in its place. Hisoka was bent over in pain, holding his chest, but as she startled him a little, he straightened up and put on his mask, acting complacent and confident. He wanted to say something smart and witty like he always does- that always helped to bat the pain away. But his lips wouldn't move- his tongue wouldn't function as he stared at her, unable to reach out in a way that normal humans seem to find so easy.
He felt frozen in that moment. He was normally so deliberately irreverent, but seeing the look on her face made his blood run cold.
Don’t let her see this weakness. It was a plea to himself.
But Hisoka had no choice. He was broken, and he needed her to fix him. He wasn’t used to depending on someone else to save his life, but now his life rested in the hands of someone who most likely despised him.
"...Hisoka." Y/N breathed, her eyes widening as she placed a hand over her open mouth. Only seconds passed before her delicate hands were pulling him inside the door without hesitation. She didn't bother to ask what happened, what kind of trouble he'd gotten into, or whether she would also be in danger. Instead, she sat him down on the couch, laying a pillow under his head for comfort, which he annoyingly refused to use until he absolutely couldn’t hold his head up any longer.
Hisoka was a bit dazed from the loss of blood, and the crimson river was flowing all over y/n's lightly colored couch. He was puzzled by the swiftness of her reaction, and he watched tepidly as she shuffled frantically through the drawers in the bathroom for something to heal him. Though he was on the brink of death, his default deflection of emotions still shone through, a reflex that he didn’t even mean to activate.
“I don’t need your help, you know.” He said with an impudent grin, watching as she began to work on his wounds. “It’s just a scratch. But I can see how badly you want to touch me…” Why was he like this? Here she was, giving up everything to help him (a criminal and the scum of the Earth),yet he can’t so much as even show her an iota of gratitude. He knows, but will never admit that it comes from his inner vulnerability; that fear of getting hurt by these things called emotions. She could just as easily let him bleed to death in front of her; he knows she has the capability to be stone cold. But she won’t… why?
Why?
Y/N could have easily let Hisoka’s false complacency hurt her. But she knows that what he cannot express in his words, his heart cannot truly hide. It was the way he was built, she told herself, and she pushed on through his antics because she wanted to see him safe again. Through the laceration in his tough exterior, she could not only see the flesh beneath, but a glimpse of the man he tried to hide using the monster that he assumed everyone saw.
But she was different.
The jester was confused by her silence. Normally, she would have retorted at his smugness, but right now, she didn’t even seem concerned with it as she began to fumble with cleaning his wounds. The alcohol seared his flesh just as the emotions boiling within him burned his heart. Why would she ever care to help him when he’s been nothing but rude and degrading to her? Could it be that she really can see through the detached front and overbearing persona? Impossible, he’s spent years building that reputation!
Suddenly, he became enthralled with the way Y/N’s eyes focused on threading the needle to sew up his gash. The way that those fingertips danced over his pale skin made him jolt unexpectedly at her touch, exhibiting a softness that Hisoka has never known before. In fact, he can’t even fathom someone wanting to touch him without the intention to hurt him in some way.
The details slowly became a blur in his depressed mental state- but he still analyzed every motion Y/N made.
Oddly, the promised sting of death had never scared Hisoka before; he did as he pleased, without care for his own life nor anyone else’s. But as his vision faded, and he watched her through the gaze of someone nearing death, he realized that he did not want to leave this world yet. He wanted to live- and maybe he wanted to discover and experience what he’d been missing in those movies he’d watched through her window.
With that, Hisoka’s heart began to beat faster.
Blood loss. That’s what it is… Hisoka thought; but he wasn’t stupid; only unwilling to admit that he was beginning to exhibit the same qualities he saw in the protagonists of those hopeless romantic flicks. He was unable to accept that the tightening in his chest was not just because of her stitches pulling his lacerated skin together.
“Are they dead? Did you kill them?” Her voice brought him out of the trance-like state he was in, and his golden eyes focused on her face. Her hands were covered in his blood (which in itself made him feel delightfully feverish), but his gash had been mended, the bleeding stopped for now. Once again, he didn’t say anything. It was unusual for the smug magician to keep his mouth shut.
“Because if you didn’t kill them, I’m going to.” A protective tone dripped into her voice, bewildering Hisoka again. That quality in her voice was both threatening and comforting, and the duality sent a chill up his spine. It inspired him to use his voice, though it had lost some of its signature modulation.
“You have that little faith in me…” A cough escaped his lips before he could smile as if nothing was bothering him at all. “Of course I killed them, my dear.” Somehow, calling her ‘dear’ no longer felt right; that was typically a placeholder, a default name to use for someone he had no connection with, and she seemed to be worthy of more than that now.
As Y/N suddenly dipped to her knees, Hisoka refrained from any lewd thoughts that he normally might have had in such a situation. That sensation in his chest was too distracting to allow this memory to be defiled with something he often indulged in fantasies of. She began to slide the high-heeled shoe off of his swollen foot to wrap it. She began to struggle with ripping the fabric she’d gathered to act as a cast for the bone.
Surely, she knows who I am. Why would she bother to help someone like me? What is she gaining? She knows that with the flip of a card, I could end her life. She’s not even protecting herself in any way. She’s leaving her guard down right in front of me.
Perhaps it was his dark desire to set fear into everyone he came across, or his distorted need to drive away anyone who might care for him, but his body suddenly acted on its own. By instinct, almost as if it were a test of her intention, a card spawned between his middle and index finger, which was right against her neck. With just a slight movement of his knuckles, he could spill her blood. His golden eyes analyzed the way she froze for a moment, and he believed that to be the end of this fragile trust between them. That was until she lifted the fabric she was holding, sliding it along the edge of the card, and cutting it to the perfect length.
“Thanks.” She spoke, beginning to wrap and set the ankle in place.
At that small motion, Hisoka’s discretionary eyes widened, and his lips fell open in surprise. Rather than interpreting his advance as an attack, she’d innocently taken it as an offer of his help. Was this a joke? Was she stupid enough to trust him, or was she bold enough to outsmart his games? Was Y/N this confident that he wouldn’t just kill her? This naive girl at his feet seemed to be the only person in this convoluted world who didn’t see him as a disgusting, heartless monster… and that warmed his icy heart.
“I’m surprised this hasn’t happened before. I know you’re graceful, but high heels are always a recipe for a broken ankle.” She offset the pain of wrapping those bones by talking to him all through the procedure, and it worked wonders. He scoffed, but by that time, Hisoka’s snide comments and emotion-killing thoughts had been expended. Somehow, she’d broken through the barrier that he’d spent so long building around himself.
Unable to ignore his whims anymore, Hisoka reached out to touch Y/N’s hair, the soft delicate strands pleasing his senses. It’s the only movement he can make now, his body weakened from the loss of blood. His gilded eyes were barely open, but they looked directly into hers with an unfamiliar realization. His hand travelled weakly down her face, caressing her cheek with the most delicate touch he could muster, and held her head in his large hand as she froze there. He wondered for a moment if she was afraid, or if something deeper that he cannot see calms her.
A small, genuine smile is all he could muster for her before his hand dropped to the side of the couch, the same couch he watched her curl up on most nights. For once, it’s not a smirk, and it’s not a smug smile- but something she has never seen before- a true smile with good intention behind it. His eyes closed, with uncertainty that they would open in the morning.
After she’d finished her work, she stood up, and looked down at him. The only remaining light in the room was the silent flicker of the television set in the background, which illuminated both of their faces.
“I need you to be alright, Hisoka,” She cooed, unable to know if he could still hear her. He didn’t know if she even realized how much he wanted to kill her right now, because the way her kindness was attacking his heart while his chest was already sliced open was something he should not excuse.
As Y/N’s final healing gesture, she bent over his body gracefully. He was taken off guard when he felt the feathery soft sensation of her lips on his forehead, the kiss of an angel on his clammy skin. As she went to pull away, however, she was startled by the lunge of Hisoka’s hand initiating a death grip on her wrist. He used the last bit of his strength to pull her lips into his, causing her to lose balance and be forced to brace on either side of the couch cushion below him. His lips were cold, but Y/N graciously returned the sensation, and boldly moved to embrace both sides of his face with her mending hands. Before she pulled away, and he passed out, she felt that same smile against her lips.
And in that moment, before he fades away, Hisoka realizes what he’s been missing.
Y/N.
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Hmm... part two? I KNOW, it’s super freakin’ sappy. I could have taken a lighthearted approach to this (and maybe I will later), but I wanted to kind of challenge myself to write a more depth-driven version of Hisoka. Maybe I bit off a little more than I can chew :0.
Anyway, let me know what you think, and once again thanks to anon for the request! Hope you all enjoyed!
Mac
#hisoka morow#hisoka x reader#x reader#reader insert#hxh#hunterxhunter#feeling sappy#love#lovelorn#ooc? probably#hxh 2011#hisoka
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Pen Pal // h.s.
Warning: light language, there is a mention of self harm, and some verbal abuse.
Highschool AU
This is really long for me 9.4k words and it’s not really done I am thinking a part 2 and maybe even a 3. Let me know what you think!
When she was five she was given a project from her teacher saying that she had to write to a pen pal. She had no idea what a pen pal was and how she got one, but she had told the class that a pen pal was someone who lived far away and we wrote a letter to them. Their letters were going to England to another class and they had to write them and they had to write back. This sounded fun. Teacher had a hat in her hands and when she passed it around we had to pick out a piece of paper that contained a name and an address. She took her's out and saw the name, it was a boy, she didn't like boys, well that wasn't true, the only boy's she liked were her brother, her best friend and her daddy. The teacher told the class they had to write to their pen pals for the whole school year.
#####
When she was ten, she still wrote to her pen pal, she didn't understand why she had been writing him for the last five years, but she had been. He was funny and easy to talk too, she thought that perhaps this boy was going to be her first crush, something she thought one of her brother's friends would be, but she was pretty sure this boy was. He helped her through a lot, like when Mommy and Daddy argued and doors slammed or when Mommy packed up her suitcases and left or when Daddy didn't come down from his room and her brother had to take care of her or when Daddy changed. He helped her a lot, and she helped him too, they sometimes even helped each other with their homework. She had found a true friend in him, and she hoped he felt the same about her.
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When she was twelve her Daddy let her have an E-Mail and she told the boy, he too had an E-mail and they talked on MSN all the time, but they still wrote letters to each other, personally hand written pieces of paper seemed much nicer than typed words on a screen. Her brother was about to be in high school now and she would be starting middle school next year. The boy had started middle school this year and it was the first time, she realized, that she knew how old he was. They would talk about homework; friends and she asked him questions about boys. The boy didn't answer a lot of them but she didn't mind, the only boy she cared about noticing her was him, but then something dawned on her. They may never meet.
When she was fifteen she started High School and the boy was a year ahead of her. Her mother had returned to the city, remarried, and she wanted to see her children, but she refused to go, as far as she was concerned her mother had abandoned her and her brother and her Father had taken care of them, but he had changed even more. Her brother would soon be off to college and she would still be here, her father wasn't so bad, only when he disapproved of something did he get angry, he never struck her, her brother would never allow it, he was protective over his baby sister especially now that boy's had started to notice her. She still wrote to the boy and told him all about her problems, it had been ten years and she could still confide in him and he confided in her and she liked it that way. It meant that somewhere she had someone who cared, someone who listened. Someone who knew her better than anyone.
###
She was sixteen when her world began to change, she still wrote to the boy and now she had a boyfriend, one of her brother's friends, she was a cheerleader and he was a soccer player and was on the swim team. Then she got a letter, it said that he had received a scholarship to her school and he was coming to New York, she was ecstatic and began to write him back when the pen suddenly fell from her hands as she realized something she had been denying. She had feelings for the boy with the elegant handwriting and who always wrote in blue pen. He couldn't come here, not when she had a boyfriend, but who was she kidding, they didn't know what each other looked like, so maybe she could hide who she was from him, the only thing he knew about he was her name and there was more than one Y/N in her school, but he never called her by her real name, when he was ten he gave her a nickname and nobody knew it except for him. She realized how ridiculous she was being, this boy had no romantic interest in her and if he did, what did it matter? She has a boyfriend now.
What she didn't know was when he came to New York her whole life would change and he would be a part of that change.
She had feelings for the boy with the elegant script and blue pen, and they were not going to go away.
"Ugh, how can you eat so much?"
Y/N Y/L/N looked at a friend with thinly veiled disgust, she had no idea where Maya put it all and considering she was eating cafeteria food, it made it just that much worse. Especially because today's menu was all seafood.
"Excuse me for being one of the few girls in the world that acknowledges a love for food." She said and then took a bite out of a fish stick and grinned.
"Hey, I like food just not too much." Y/N said, eyeing what could only be Maya's twentieth piece of fried fish.
"That's because you, my friend, are a cheerleader and must stay in impeccable shape." Maya winked and then went back to eating.
Y/N sighed, it was true, part of the reason as to why she didn't eat a lot was cheerleading, she needed to stay small so she could tumble and be thrown in the air. Maya seemed to resent her for the fact that she was a cheerleader, but Y/N could not help it if Maya did not have great hand eye coordination. She knew Maya didn't really like her, but she put up with having her around because Will and Joel liked her. She didn't know why Maya hated her, she thought it was partly because she was part of the in crowd and Maya thought that they were all snobs.
Y/N was no snob.
Someone patted her head and she turned to look and was looking into the kind eyes of her best friend.
Will Davis.
His brown hair was in his eyes, covering the chocolate orbs. He sat down, his skinny frame folding easily on the chair. He had to push his glasses from the end of his nose back up to where they were supposed to be. Y/N couldn't help but grin at him, he was so normal, that was why she opted to sit with him at lunch and not the—as Maya bluntly puts it—the popular hoes.
Y/N looked over at her other friends, they were crowded around their table near the window, laughing and joking, she saw her best friend Isabella and her brother Jack, they looked annoyingly happy. She was well aware that Jack liked Isabella but his feelings were not reciprocated, but Jack was a star at school, everyone wanted to be with him, especially Kayla.
Y/N hated Kayla.
"Well, I'm done; I'm going to go prepare for class." She smiled at the group and dumped the contents of her tray into the garbage and left her tray on top, leaving the cafeteria, she straightened out her uniform and remembered something.
She had had practice this morning and all of her bag was still in her locker, crammed into the small space. She had gotten a lift with her brother today so she had to put all of her stuff in his car. Huffing, she spun back around and walked over to her brother's table, feeling the eyes of her other friends on her, as if she was betraying them.
She knew that they thought sooner or later she would stop sitting with them and sit with the 'popular' crowd, but she sat with them because they were superficial, they were fun to be around and she liked them, even Maya on her good days.
"Jacky," she said, arriving at the table and stopping in front of her brother. He seemed to be in an overly animated conversation with Liam, her more or less boyfriend.
"Yes?" He looked up at her, sounding bored.
"I need your keys so I can put my stuff in your car." She held her hand out expectantly but Jack made no move to hand over the keys. She was aware that the group was staring and acutely aware that Kayla was practically drooling over her brother, she didn't see the big deal. She could admit that he was nice looking but hot? No way, then again he was her brother it would be weird if she thought he was a god like the rest of the school.
Jack was nearly eighteen and this was his senior year, along with Liam, Kayla and a few others. He received a lot of female attention and people were always asking if they were really related, Y/N could see why, they looked nothing alike.
Jack had silvery blonde hair and dark eyes, he was tall and had a soccer player's build, where Y/N had Y/C/H and Y/C/E, and had a frame that was slightly toned from nearly four years of cheerleading.
Y/N never understood why she was a cheerleader, she wasn't a girly girl and she didn't dress up a lot, she was more into art, but then cheerleading provided her with confidence and made her feel alive like nothing had before, she loved the feeling of being tossed into the air and soaring like a bird. It was freeing.
"How do I know that you aren't going to joy ride and leave me stranded here?" Y/N scoffed at this.
"Honestly, even if I was going to do that, you would never be stranded, I'm sure there are a million people who would give you a ride." She batted her lashes innocently at him.
He could never deny giving his sister anything, he loved her, he had taken care of her when Father had been unfit, he watched over her, he protected her.
"Fine, here, but give them straight back." He said firmly and she rolled her eyes.
"Yeah yeah." She said turning back and going to her locker. Maybe she should joyride, just to teach him a lesson, then again, that would be one time that Jack didn't protect her.
Y/N walked to her locker, putting in the combination and opening it; grabbing her bag she hauled it over her shoulder and was about to head out to the student parking lot when a hand gently grabbed her waist pulling her back. She raised her eyes to see Liam, smiling down at her.
Liam was her boyfriend, she supposed, they had been together for over a month now and Y/N was very happy. He was very good looking with brown hair that had a messy on purpose look, brown eyes, like melting chocolate, a tall stature and the build of a soccer player mixed in with the grace of a swimmer.
"Hey," he said as he moved, causing her to walk back and feel the cool metal of the locker's behind her.
"Hey," she said smiling. Liam's hand snaked out to play with a strand of her hair. He always played with her hair, Y/N didn't understand the fascination, it was a big frizz ball as far as she was concerned.
"Any plans tonight?" He asked while still fiddling with her hair.
"Sure, with the most wonderful man." Liam looked confused and let her hair fall back. "You should meet him, ever heard of Edgar Allen Poe?" She smirked as he shook his head.
"You are a devil woman." He moved so that Y/N could do what she had originally planned and put her bag in her brother's car.
"Walk with me?" She asked and he nodded, taking her bag and holding her hand.
She knew a lot of girls didn't understand why Liam was dating her; she didn't understand it herself, he was popular, the whole female population of Anchor Academy wanted him and threw dagger looks at her in the halls, but she revelled in it, for once she was envied, for once people wanted to be her.
Y/N deposited her bag in the boot of her brother's truck and turned to the back seat where she knew she had left her pencil box, she slid them into her brown leather backpack and locked the car—after closing the door—and spun to Liam. He had his hands on her hips and was staring down at her with a burning intensity.
"Do you want to do something tonight?" He asked in a shaky voice. They had never been this close before, they hadn't even done more than pecks, she didn't know what was stopping her but she knew she was grateful that he was patient, she wondered how long that would last.
"I can't, I'm sorry, but I have to finish this assignment." The bell rang then and Y/N now understood the meaning of the phrase saved by the bell. "I need to go, but I'll see you tomorrow?" She got on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, waving as she headed to class.
Y/N wasn't exactly lying to Liam, she did need to finish this assignment, but it wasn't due for another two weeks. Y/N knew why she didn't go out a lot on school days, but that was her secret.
#####
Y/N sat at her computer desk, researching for this English paper when her chat window came up.
Hello Y/N
Y/N smiled and typed back. They had been friends for eleven years now, he knew her inside and out as she knew him, except for the fact that they had no idea what the other looked like, she thought and he agreed that it would be better to keep their faces hidden, like real pen pals.
Y/N remembered the day she had been told she had to write to him and the day he walked into her life, never walking out.
Y/N sat at her seat next to her new friend Will. He was funny looking; he had really big glasses and funny hair. They were friends because Y/N saw him reading and she wanted to read too.
"Okay guy, we are doing a fun new assignment called Pen Pals! This means, each of you will select a name from this hat," She held the hat out for show. "And you will write that person a letter and then they will write you one and you will keep replying until the end of the year. Does that sound like fun?" The teacher was overexcited, Y/N didn't see the big deal, she was writing to a stranger. Her mom always told her never to talk to strangers.
The hat was passed around and Y/N dipped her hand in and pulled out a piece of paper, handing the hat to Will. She opened the paper and saw the name of her 'Pen Pal'.
Harry Styles
Under his name was what she thought was an address. She pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil and began to write her first letter.
Dear Harry...
You're distracting me from homework, Y/N replied to Harry. When she had started that assignment she had no idea she was going to make a lifelong friend, a best friend and she had, in Harry, he had been her first crush, even if she hadn't officially met him, Y/N had wanted him to be her first kiss too, but that was impossible in case she was able to get a plane to England and the little savings she had in her piggy bank, Father gave her money but she always used that on the weekends, going to movies or restaurants or clubs.
Really, what are you doing?
She was about to respond when he wrote something else and she giggled.
More importantly, what are you wearing? ;)
Y/N shook her head; Harry was always a cocky smartass.
Edgar Allan Poe
You're wearing Edgar Allan Poe? Lucky guy
Oh haha! I am studying Edgar Allan Poe and wearing nothing
Harry didn't reply, which was uncommon for him, not much rendered him speechless, in the time they had spoken, be it through letter or internet, she had learnt a lot about Harry and his life, what he was like and what he was hiding, she felt as if she was one of the only people who knew the real Harry and somehow that made her feel lucky.
What poem?
He ignored the naked comment. Smooth.
Instead of typing the title, which he would then Google, Y/N wrote the poem to him, perhaps he could shed some light on it for she was having no luck.
Romance, who loves to nod and sing,
With drowsy head and folded wing,
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted paroquet
Hath been- a most familiar bird-
Taught me my alphabet to say-
To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie,
A child- with a most knowing eye.
Of late, eternal Condor years
So shake the very Heaven on high
With tumult as they thunder by,
I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky.
And when an hour with calmer wings
Its down upon my spirit flings-
That little time with lyre and rhyme
To while away- forbidden things!
My heart would feel to be a crime
Unless it trembled with the strings.
Y/N awaited his response as she read over the lines of the poem herself. The poem was called Romance and Y/N really hoped Harry didn't read something onto the title.
Well Y/N, it seems you have a pickle in your hands here.
Ever the asshole, Harry didn't help her at all. She sighed, deciding he was too distracting for her to actually get work done.
I'm signing off, you really are no help. Talk to you soon.
Y/N logged off before he could respond. For another hour she pondered what the poem could mean and then gave up and decided to concentrate on her art assignment. She was supposed to draw something that meant a lot to her but she couldn't think of anything except for Harry and she couldn't very well draw him, she had no idea what he looked like.
Then an idea no, more like an image, came to fruition within her thoughts and she began sketching, not knowing where this idea had come from, but she was going with it, it was all the help she was going to get.
Y/N awoke the next morning and sauntered into the kitchen, pouring herself some cereal she went to get milk when she saw the envelope sitting there, with her name written on the front in elegant script and written in blue biro. She knew who it was from immediately and sitting at the table, her breakfast forgotten, she opened the letter and started reading.
She was glad she didn't eat, because she probably would have just thrown it all up with the nausea she felt.
Harry was coming to New York, not only that he was coming to her school.
That was bad, he would see her, who she really was, who her friends were, what her friends were like, her brother and he would see what she looked like. Y/N suddenly felt extremely self conscious and opted not to wear her original outfit and instead wear baggy jeans, a tank top, a giant hoodie and ugly sneakers.
She didn't want Harry to see her because she knew, she knew that he would be beautiful and she was not, he would laugh at her and never speak to her again.
Y/N didn't think she could handle losing her friend, her best friend, her soul mate.
Y/N had never changed outfits so many times in her life.
She had gone from baggy, to slutty, to loose fitting, to tight, to exposing, to completely covered, and finally she decided to go for a mix and ended up in something she would normally wear. Looking at herself in the mirror she realised that being friends with Isabella had influenced her style way too much.
And even scarier, she had never put in this much effort to look nice for Liam.
Y/N was wearing a loose grey shirt with a leather belt that emphasised her small waist, a pair of black skinny jeans covered her legs and her feet were enclosed in ballet flats. Her hair was pinned on one side and her makeup was light, she wore no jewellery and she had her bag slung around her shoulders.
Y/N descended the stairs and grabbed a berry yogurt from the fridge for breakfast and waited for her brother.
Jack came down the stairs a few minutes later and nodded at her, picking up his backpack and an apple, grabbing his keys they were about to leave when their father came out from the study.
He was always in the study.
"Where are you going dressed like that?" He asked Y/N, his breath heavy with the scent of alcohol. Y/N looked down at her attire, not seeing anything wrong with it.
"What's wrong with it?" She asked cautiously, standing closer to Jack.
When her father drank, he drank until he couldn't see anymore and he always asked or commented on Y/N's looks and she knew why. She looked exactly like her mother. Jack always came to her rescue when he started on a tirade, she was grateful to have such a loving brother.
"It looks like you are trying to impress a man. I want to know who?" Y/N cringed back at the look her father gave her. She hated it when he was like this.
Ever since their mother had abandoned them, Y/N's father had indulged in Alcohol and, as a result, had lost his job. They had nearly lost their home until, one day; their father had snapped out of it and got himself together. He got another job and was earning good money, Jack got a part time job for extra money and Y/N also got a summer job to pay for art classes.
He still drank and when he did, Y/N would rather avoid him.
"No one sir, I was just trying out a new style."
"What's it called? Whore?"
"Father." Jack stepped in, standing between Y/N and their father. "Enough. You're drunk."
"Just like your mother, she abandoned you kids, I stayed and this is how you repay me? By looking like something out of a x-rated movie?"
Y/N bit her lip and kept her tears at bay.
He wasn't her daddy right now. He was the thing that their mother had made.
"Y/N," Jack whispered. "Go to the car." Y/N did and waited for Jack.
When he appeared she was fidgeting with her outfit.
"Y/N, you look beautiful. Don't listen to him."
She smiled as he unlocked the car. She put her stuff on the back seat and sat, buckling her seat belt and fiddling with the music as he took off towards school.
"But out of pure curiosity, who are you trying to impress?"
My pen pal from kindergarten who just moved to this school.
"No one, just trying something new."
#####
Harry rolled his eyes, walking along behind the chick giving him the tour of the school.
Isabella? That was her name he thought. She seemed to like to talk and look at herself and look at Harry. Typical Barbie teenager, he could have her in minutes if he wanted, but he was far too anxious about where he was and who he knew was here. He felt oddly nervous, but he didn't know why. He knew that he was good looking—okay, that was an understatement—he could get any girl he wanted with a snap of his fingers, but it was different now.
He knew everything about Y/N—except for what she looked like, which was a big thing for Harry. He could admit that he was shallow, he always went for the easy girls as opposed to any other girl, but he doubted that Y/N was easy.
The fact that she had a boyfriend said so.
Harry clenched his jaw at that thought, it was ridiculous to get annoyed over one word, but Y/N having a boyfriend was not the way he had pictured their first meeting to go. He expected her to fall into his arms or his bed, depending on the location.
He had to stop thinking of Y/N like that. They were friends, best friends, and had been since she was five and he was six, he loved her like a friend and cared about her. He lived for the days they would talk for hours. He loved being able to open up to her.
He loved having a girl as his friend that cared about him even though she had no idea what he looked like.
"And this is the cafeteria. You can sit with me, you said you played soccer right?" Harry nodded at Isabella's question. "Good, I sit with some soccer players." They walked into the room; it was white and blue with long tables and benches. There was a lineup for the food but Harry wrinkled his nose.
He never ate cafeteria food; he always brought his own lunch.
He had told his Grandmother this and she had packed him a lunch. His stomach growled thinking about it.
"Did you want some food?" She asked.
"I have some with me." He responded, giving her his signature smirk. She smiled back at him and batted her eyelashes as she trotted off to a table in the back with a group of boys and girls. Isabella sat and gestured to a spare seat next to her in which Harry took.
"Everyone," She announced, gesturing to the group as a whole. "This is Harry Styles, he's new. He moved here from England and he too plays soccer."
"Interested in trying out? We need a new player." A boy with light silver-white hair asked.
"Sure," Harry responded nonchalantly, when really the prospect of playing the game he loved so much gave him a kick of adrenaline.
"Excellent. Come to practice this afternoon." He reached over offering his hand. "I'm Jack, captain, goalie." Harry shook his hand, recognising the name.
My older brother, Jack, is starting second grade next year.
Jack starts high school soon.
My brother got into the soccer team.
Jack was made captain!
So, this was Y/N's brother. He studied the boy, trying to imagine his features on a girl. An image rose. Dark eyes, contrasting with a pale complexion, tall and stringy, like a beanstalk, with a bit of athleticism due to cheerleading and long silvery hair.
Harry wasn't entirely put off by the image.
"That's Isabella, as you know." Jack continued, pointing to the girl next to him. "Cherr captain. Laney and Kayla are also cheerleaders. Liam, Jared are also on the team. The others are around somewhere, but we all prefer each other's company."
Harry acknowledged everyone with a nod, noting that Liam was a boy with dark hair and eyes and was also, he suspected, Y/N's boyfriend.
This guy, one of my brothers' friends, asked me out so I won't be able to talk tonight.
Liam, the guy I went on a date with, asked me to be his girlfriend. I said yes.
Harry knew he was much better looking.
Harry looked around the cafeteria, trying to see if he could spot her.
"Ah," Jack said and here comes the most important member of our group.
Harry looked to where Jack was pointing and saw a girl walking towards them, tray in hand. Her eyes met Harry's and everything seemed to go silent. She was beautiful, not a generic beauty, but someone who didn't know how beautiful they were. Hair in a braid at her side, big luminous eyes widened as they looked at Harry. A small frame, with some muscle.
"Who?" Harry asked, not able to tear his eyes from her. His study happened in a split second; no one noticed that they had shared a moment.
A moment he would never forget.
"My sister."
The moment he first saw his Y/N.
#####
"Come on Y/N, you don't want to miss him, he is so hot." Stella, her partner in science, pushed Y/N out of the class.
She was trying to get Y/N to the cafeteria to see the new boy, she had heard about him all day and received an excited message from Isabella saying she was escorting him. She had heard he was hot but she knew something about him that no one else did.
The new boy was Harry Styles, her pen pal for over ten years.
Y/N was nervous as her and Stella approached the cafeteria, Stella scanned the room and her shoulders slumped in disappointment.
"He isn't here yet. Let's line up, by the time we get our food, he should be here."
Y/N waited in line, noting that her brother and boyfriend came through and immediately sat down. They never ate school food. Y/N was envious. She hated the oily, bland food they made. She made a note to go car shopping sooner so that she could leave during lunch and buy something.
Y/N got her tray and on it placed an apple juice, a salad, a chocolate muffin and a small bowl of Mac 'n' Cheese.
Y/N decided to sit at her Brother's table today—well Isabella had decided for her—and as she made her way over, she stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes met with him.
His eyes were bright, emerald green and his hair was shaggy and brunette, falling under his chin and just above his eyes. His skin was sun kissed and he had an athlete's build. He was the most handsome boy Y/N had ever seen. Then it registered.
She had never seen this boy before, he was sitting with her brother, her boyfriend and Isabella and he, too, was staring at her.
She felt a lump build in her throat and she didn't need Stella's input.
"That's him, the new boy."
Y/N gulped and suddenly felt the urge to run and hide.
The new boy.
Her boy.
Her best friend.
Harry Styles, her Harry.
Y/N was able to move from her spot once Stella broke the trance she had been in.
She didn't look at him when she got to the table, taking a seat next to Liam and realising with annoyance that Harry was across from her. She couldn't look at him, then they would all know. They would know she knew Harry, she cared for Harry and she couldn't let that happen.
"Hey baby," Liam said as she settled in her seat. Leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek. Y/N's eyes inadvertently went to Harry as his lips made contact. His eyes blazed and his jaw tightened as Liam kissed her, but Y/N didn't understand why.
"Ow," Liam said as he pulled away, glaring at Jack. "Who just throws bread at someone?"
"That's my sister," Jack said. "Next time, it won't be bread."
"Jack, you are so overprotective. I am not a baby anymore" Y/N said, looking at her brother. It was the first words she had spoken since seeing Harry. She didn't look at him or tried not to anyway.
"Y/N!" Isabella said excitedly, drawing her attention. "This is Harry Styles; new guy from England, your brother is letting him try out for the team!"
Isabella, I know more about him than you, shut up and stop looking at him like that!
Y/N let her gaze go to Harry.
"Really? You must be something special to get that stubborn JACKass to let you try out." She smiled innocently at Jack.
"Oh you have no idea." Harry replied, his voice like heaven.
"We'll see about that." Liam said, slinging his arm around Y/N. "Are you coming to see his tryout babe?"
Y/N looked over at Harry who smirked at her quickly before glancing down at his untouched lunch. He seemed to have packed lunch, Y/N found that cute.
"Wouldn't miss it."
###
Y/N changed into some workout clothes.
"Alright," Isabella said as they stretched on the field. "We are going to practice the cheers for next weeks game, because frankly you suck at it. Let's go!"
Isabella was nothing if not direct.
She looked out at the field and saw Liam; he smiled and waved to her. Jack saw this and whacked him over the head.
Y/N couldn't help but laugh at that.
Then she noticed Harry and all laughter died as they looked at one another from across the field. He was shirtless, and boy did he look good, and he made it no secret to check her out. Y/N turned from him before Liam or Jack saw the look Harry was giving her.
She was distracted all through practice, but luckily, she wasn't the worse one here. A lot of the other girls were distracted by Harry too. Y/N tried not to dwell on that.
As the cheerleaders were packing, Y/N noticed Jack and Harry shaking hands and smiling.
He must have made the team
She saw Liam then and he began to walk over to her, she smiled and walked over to him, after having packed up what she was supposed to, and he wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on top of hers.
"So, Harry is a pretty good player isn't he?" Y/N said as she pulled away from Liam, taking his hand and walking to where she would change.
"Yeah, I guess so, hopefully he will be enough to get us out of this slump."
"I'm sure he will be." They had reached the entrance to the girl's locker room and Y/N looked up at Liam, his brown eyes smiling at her.
"Do you want me to take you home?"
Y/N was about to say no, that Jack gave her a lift to school and would take her home but then she thought about how little time she spent with Liam and nodded, hurrying to get changed and coming back out in record time.
"That was fast." He commented, smirking at her as he took her school bag.
"Well, I wanted to spend time with you." Y/N crinkled her nose. The girl's locker room always smelled like perfume, too much perfume and all of different scents. It got quite difficult to breathe in there.
"Cutie."Liam bent down and brushed his lips over Y/N's.
Liam pulled back grinned, Y/N stood and stared up at him, unable to form words.
The kiss was small, short and...Nice.
"Why Miss Y/L/N I do believe my kissing has stunned you into silence. I am quite good."
Y/N shook her head and shoved his arm playfully, about to say something smartass back to him when something caught her eyes. A flash, retreating into the boys' locker room.
Harry?
She turned back to Liam and they continued walking, they were nearly at his car when she remembered something. Slapping a hand to her forehead. Liam looked down at her in concern.
"Shoot, I forgot my homework in my locker. I'll be right back." She began to run towards the school.
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"I'll meet you at the car in a couple of minutes." She called back to him, dashing into the doors and running to her locker.
She put in the combination and got the book she needed, shutting her locker door she turned to go and jumped, seeing something she hadn't noticed before.
"Well, alone at last."
Y/N looked up at the person before her, feeling her insides melt.
"Harry," She breathed, unable to say anything but his name.
"Well Y/N, we meet at last."
Y/N looked up at Harry. She wasn't ready for this, no matter how many times she told herself she was, she wasn't and she realised she never would be ready to meet Harry. He was someone that she could turn to when she needed a shoulder to cry on. He was someone she could tell everything to—she had told everything to him and he was her best friend, someone who knew her better than anyone and now that he was here, she regretted telling him all those things. She regretted letting Harry in.
"I should go," she mumbled and started to walk away. Harry grabbed her arm and she spun, nearly head butting his chest. For a moment she stood frozen and, annoyingly, a song started playing through her head, one that she should not be thinking about when she had a boyfriend.
At last, my love has come along, my lonely days are over.
"Y/N" Harry whispered and she saw how close their faces were, his lips mere centimetres from hers. If she leaned forward, just a little, they would kiss and she had thought about kissing Harry plenty. Harry seemed to be thinking the same thing. His eyes travelled down to her lips and then back to her eyes. He was about to say something. Y/N wanted to hear it, she wanted to hear what he had to say to her, but the trance they were in was broken when Harry smirked down at her and spoke.
"I always imagined our meeting to go a little...differently."
Y/N didn't like his tone and managed to step out of his grip on her arm.
"You've imagined our meeting?" She asked, her voice coming out a little breathlessly.
"All the time, Y/N," she tried not to think of how her nickname—the name only he called her—sounded like a caress. "I mean, we've known each other for years and we have never met. I've always wondered what it would be like." He grinned wickedly at her and Y/N felt herself respond with a small, teasing, smile. One Isabella had taught her.
Damn her flirting classes to the pits of hell!
"Well, it's great to, you know, finally meet you. We should definitely hang out some—" Harry placed a hand over her mouth and moved his eyes in the direction of an empty room. Y/N felt her brow furrowed in confusion and then she registered the sound of footsteps. She didn't have time to respond before Harry was walking towards the room, with her in tow, locking the door and pulling the blind down.
"Harry," She hissed. "What are you—?"
"Y/N?"
The voice came from the hallway and Y/N widened her eyes as she recognised it. Harry put a finger to his lips in the international sign for silence.
"Y/N, baby?"
Liam was walking past the door and Y/N had to resist the urge to yell out his name, Harry saw this and leaned into her, whispering in her ear. His breath caused her to shiver.
"Y/N, I just want to talk to you alone."
"Harry, he's my ride home and my boyfriend," she said defensively.
"Text him and tell him you need to do something really quickly and you'll be out soon."
Y/N looked up at Harry, planning on defying him and then she thought about it. She would never be alone with Harry again and she had wanted to meet him—talk to him in person—for years. Perhaps she should listen.
She took her phone out and sent a quick text to Liam.
Hey babe. Running late, meet you out the front in a few? Sorry for taking so long xox
Harry gave her an approving look as they heard Liam's phone go off and he headed back down the hallway, leaving the school.
"Okay, you have five minutes, what?" She asked Harry.
The Harry in her head looked like the Harry before her except for the attitude. Her Harry was sweet, funny and romantic. Harry, though funny, didn't seem to have anything sweet in him.
"Cute," Harry said and she looked up seeing one corner of his mouth was turned up in a smile.
"What is?" She asked.
"You," he grinned and Y/N grinned back. Then her smiled faded as he kept looking her up and down. Y/N squirmed uncomfortably under his scrutiny. He was looking at her like...like a piece of meat, ogling her. This was not how she imagined Harry would look at her; she imagined kindness to shine from his eyes and a feeling of safety to wrap around her.
Right now, all she felt was...uncomfortable.
"Look Harry," Y/N said, raising her eyes to his. "I really need to go," she said firmly, trying to get him to shake off the look of a stranger checking out the best piece of ass. He didn't.
"Oh Y/N, I have been waiting to meet you for over ten years and you're just going to walk away from me?" He shook his head. "I thought we were friends, best friends."
"We were—are—but Harry, I really need to go. I'll—I'll talk to you later, tonight, okay?" He gave her a curious look.
"No girl," he said slowly, "has ever walked away from me. It is unfamiliar and quite disconcerting. I don't like it very much but it seems to make you far more endearing. I enjoy a good chase, Y/N," he raised his eyebrows suggestively. "But be warned, I am quite good at catching what I want."
Y/N looked at him with disgust and shoved past him.
So this was who her best friend really was, an asshat that liked to use girls. Well, she wasn't going to be one of them.
"If I had known this is what you were really like," she said, hand on the door knob, turning to face him, "I never would have kept writing to you."
Harry drummed his fingers in time with the music on the steering wheel of his car.
He was driving to a local corner store, a mini mart of sorts, to get some things for his grandmother. He didn't mind helping her. She was letting him live with her, rent free and even gave him money for doing her favours. Harry didn't want to take it, but she was pushy and would put it in his wallet while he was asleep.
He smiled at the thought.
"I never would have kept writing to you."
His smile fell as that unpleasant thought worked its way into his mind and he slammed his hand, hard, on the steering wheel, berating himself. He couldn't believe how bad his meeting with Y/N went. He was such an ass. He knew he was, he could proudly admit it and also admit to the fact that there was no hidden reason behind his being an ass, no woman who scorned him, no abusive relationship with his parents and no reason at all.
Except that he was an ass and he enjoyed being an ass.
Mostly.
His arrogance only got him so far in life. Sometimes he would have to reel it in and suck up his pride and stop being an ass. Perhaps he should have done that with Y/N.
She had always been there for him, since he was six years old and first received her letter. When he found out she was a girl he was instantly annoyed, girls had cooties, but he wrote back anyway. That stupid egg headed boyfriend of hers had called her baby and Harry had to suppress a laugh at that, he had had so many babies in his short life and knew that more would come. But there is only one Y/N
It had been a week since Y/N had spoken to him and if she did look at him, she glared. It bothered Harry, more than he was willing to admit, that this girl he had known for so long—and had finally met—may hate him. He had no one but himself to blame, it was easy to act differently when typing on a computer or writing a letter.
Harry only acted that way with family and very close friends. Never had he acted the way he had with Y/N with any other girl. He had never given them special nicknames or blown off parties to 'hang out'. He never stayed up all night talking or anxiously awaiting a reply.
He had never wanted someone like he wanted Y/N.
Not in a physical way, although she was remarkably good looking. He wanted Y/N on an emotional level too. He wanted to kiss her if he wanted and do things to her he had done before with other girls, but he also wanted to be able to talk to her, to tell her how he felt and have her listen and in turn, listen to her.
Was this love he was feeling? Had he fallen in love with the girl who never wrote in cursive and never stuck to one pen colour?
Harry thought about it and a startling revelation came to him.
He was most definitely in love with Y/N.
There was no other way to explain his feelings and even—dear god!—the silly grin that was now on his face as he thought about it. He pulled up to a red light and groaned, hitting the steering wheel.
I'm in love with my best friend and treated her like crap.
God he was stupid.
Y/N had been a constant in his life. He had always been able to turn to her for comfort and she had turned to him. He knew more about her than anyone probably did. He knew that when her mother left, Y/N had cut one line along her wrist and then looked at herself in disgust for doing it because her mother didn't deserve her blood. He knew that she hadn't spoken to her mother—Val—since she walked out, and he knew what her father would call her when he was drunk.
He knew her favourite colours, movies, T.V. shows, books and what she wanted to do. He knew her fears and her dreams. He knew that she loved carrots and detested broccoli. He knew that she would only ever dot her I's with hearts if hell froze over, and she liked to draw smiley faces on the toes of her converse.
He smiled thinking about it all and then he saw her in his memory, the way she had looked when he had first laid eyes on her and his heart sped up.
I am in love, aren't I?
He didn't understand how he was in love. He always thought he would fall in love when he was older. He knew Y/N, inside and out and he realised that he had been falling in love with her, slowly, since that first letter and had been in love with her long before he saw her.
Harry jolted with surprise at that, as the light turned green and he continued to drive, he was shallow. He knew it. He only ever paid attention to a girl if she was good looking and flaunted it; tight tops, pants, short skirts, the lot. If you didn't have any of that, he wasn't interested.
With Y/N it was different, he had never seen her before and yet he always wanted to spend his time with her. Re-reading her letters, seeing if she was online, anything really. He made excuses to stay in and talk to her. He would rush home if he knew he would receive a letter from her and butterflies would go crazy in his stomach as he saw the envelope.
She always wrote on nice stationery and sprayed the letter with perfume.
He loved going on her words, tracing them with his fingers.
God, Harry thought as he pulled into the car park for the store and got out, locking his silver Audi and moving to the entrance of the store.
He froze for a moment, the last thought in his mind, whirring around as he looked at the one person behind the counter and his heart soared. They didn't see him and he ducked into an aisle as he calmed his heart and that thought that was still nagging at him.
God, I'm in love with Y/N.
#####
"Isabella, I only have a short break, what do you want?"
Y/N held the phone against her ear and shoulder as she listened to Isabella babble about the upcoming school dance. She rolled her eyes, her school had too many dances. This one was a welcoming back dance, although it wasn't scheduled for another month or so, but Isabella always had to start preparing early.
"I'm thinking blue, maybe. I think I look good in blue and gold for you. Maybe not blue, that would clash with the gold. I know, red! I'll wear red and gold and you can wear gold and red!" She chirped excitedly.
"What's the difference?" Y/N asked, opening her chocolate bar.
"Red is my feature colour, so it will be the colour of my dress and nails and lip stick and I will have gold shoes and accessories. Gold will be your feature colour and red you sub colour. Duh Y/N, have I taught you nothing?"
She rolled her eyes, thankful that Izzy couldn't see her.
"Alright, but red and gold remind me of curtains."
"Curtains?"
"Yeah, like older mansions always had red curtains and gold ropes and poles," she shrugged. "Reminds me of curtains, plus, red doesn't go with skin tone.”
"So what colour would you suggest for yourself?"
"Black."
There was a pause and then Isabella yelled into the phone.
"Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N! You are not going to another dance in a black dress! For the love of God! Wear some colour!"
"But black is—"
"Black is a colour you wear once in a while. Not. At. Every. Social. Function," Isabella ground out and Y/N winced. "That's it! I managed to get you to dress like a girl everyday now I have to get you to dress in colours when we go out. I am scheduling a shopping trip...Two weeks before the dance. For now, we will browse online."
"Isabella—"
"What are you wearing right now?"
"A skirt and top."
"Elaborate, Y/N. Shape, colour, design?"
She sighed but continued, knowing Isabella wouldn't stop until she had an answer.
"A green skirt that is longer at the back and zips up the front and a white tank top tucked into the waist band of the skirt. My shoes are white enclosed with a wedge heel design and I am wearing gold bracelets and a silver necklace with a heart on it."
"Good girl, see? If it weren't for me, you'd be dressed like Will." Y/N didn't try to deny it.
"Isabella, I really think—"
"No excuses. It's written. It's done. Get your fabulously dressed butt back to work and call me later."
Isabella hung up and Y/N stared at the phone for a moment before sighing and putting it back in her bra—girl's gotta do what a girl's got to do—and headed back out to the register, where Mr. Stark had been managing the register.
Mr. Stark owned the small convenience store that Y/N worked at and had been good friends with her father—still was apparently, and she got the job with no problems. The pay was good and the hours flexible.
Smiling at the old man, she took her seat behind the register and waited, flipping through a magazine as she did. She heard the bell above the door chime but didn't look up, until she felt a tingle go through her and when she looked, no one was there. She frowned and then shrugged. They probably went down an aisle.
Returning to her magazine, Y/N thought through Isabella's words.
Did she need to wear more colours? Did Isabella have a point in helping her change her wardrobe from drabby to, as she says, fabby?
Looking down at herself, her style had definitely changed and Y/N liked it, maybe she should stop wearing black dresses to every dance.
Y/N saw in her peripheral a customer approach and stowed her magazine away, scanner in hand. Looking up she saw, to her dismay, who it was that was placing the items down. Locking her jaw, she decided not to acknowledge him and started scanning and placing in the paper bags that Mr. Stark used, insisting it was better than plastic. When she finished scanning, she was annoyed to find that she had to acknowledge his presence.
"Will that be all?" She asked, not quite meeting Harry's eyes. The green seemed to blaze into her.
"I think so, Y/N." The name was like a caress and Y/N had to suppress a shiver of delight. "Actually," Harry amended and Y/N looked up from typing in the total. "One more thing, when do you get off?"
"Do you use that line on every girl?" She asked, typing in the total as Harry fished bills from his wallet and handed them to her.
"Only girls I like." Y/N didn't pause in counting his change, but his words caused a thrill to go through her. "So, when do you get off?"
"Why?" She asked, handing him back his change.
"Because I want to talk, don't friends usually talk?"
"Friends yes, I wasn't aware we were friends Harry," she responded, still refusing to meet his gaze.
"Y/N," He sighed. "What I said, it was completely out of line. I—I'm sorry. I was so nervous meeting you. I mean, you imagine something for so long you want it to go perfectly and then you lose all sense and start blabbering." He ran a hand through his hair and Y/N finally met his gaze.
She could see that he was sorry, in the depths of green there was regret.
"I get off at 4," she said, which was an hour away.
"Would you mind—would you mind if I took you home?"
Y/N looked up at him and saw that he was nervous. Harry had always seemed so confident in his letters and typing that she hadn't thought he could get nervous and with his looks, she thought there was no need. Although what he had said to her still hurt, she had known Harry was a player, he had told her as much, but she had never thought—never imagined—that he would treat her like one of those countless other girls, and that hurt more than words could describe.
Her decision was made as she quickly mulled that over and she told him her answer.
#harry#harry styles#harold styles#harry edward styles#styles#harry x reader#harry x y/n#high school au#harry styles fic#harry styles au#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#one direction#one direction fic#one direction fluff#series#part 1#fluff#angst#harry styles fanfic#fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#one direction fanfic#fanfiction#x reader#x y/n#one direction imagine#one direction x you#harry x you
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Have you watched Netflix’s Castlevania show before? Because if you haven’t, I feel like you would really dig it. More importantly, I need your opinion on how ridiculously similar Trevor and Sypha are to Soul and Maka. They have like the exact same relationship dynamic, it’s crazy. Trevor is this broody, cynical, snarky jerk with a heart of gold and he feels kind of crushed under the weight of his family name. *also his family was wealthy and famous* Sypha is this really kindhearted and couragous scholarly/academic type whose also a badass who takes no shit from anyone, and they fight demons/monsters together. They didn’t even like each other at first. She thought he was apathetic and rude and he kind of thought of her as an annoyingly stubborn know-it-all, but they end up growing to love and trust each other. Just look at these dorks and tell me they don’t exude SoMa energy
Like am I wrong?! My brain often tries to connect stuff I’m watching to SoMa in some way, but I feel like this one is actually justified. I kinda feel really compelled to write a Soul Eater Castlevania au sometime. Also: I’m stoked to see whatever project your working on that you previewed when you posted those screensavers of Soul drowning. It looked really neat.
Oooooh I've heard about Castlevania before but I haven't gotten the chance to see it, as I'm currently too overwhelmed with irl things to start a heavy series
But so far I'm liking the premise, and I'm a total slut for the dark fantasy genre so I really 👀 at this series. Would put it on the list tho, it seems interesting and daaaaaaaamn that artstyle had me weakkkkk
And dude this sounds like a rad AU material too
Also: thank youuuu ❤❤❤ and for a spoiler on that project: it's an animatic of a sort. a video. a PV. whatever it's called lmao. I've uploaded bits of it here tbh. I'm planning to post the full video on valentine day?
These are some parts I've uploaded here:
Also, bonus on rough first draft:
I've been working on it since last year so yea forgive the dirty paper wwww ^^ please look forward to it and thank you for your recommendation!
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No Doubt in Us
Chapter Twelve - What I Want *written section below*
Fiance!Haknyeon x Fem!reader
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a/n: first time writting a make out scene so sorry if it sucks
Synopsis: Life is great, you have your dream job, you finally got your first big break, and you are now engaged to the love of your life. Happier than you’ve ever been, you live life one day at a time. Then one day a terrible accident happens leaving you in a coma. Where you finally awake, everything is not as you remember. Amnesia takes away 3 years of your memory, forgetting your beloved Fiance. Faced with a reality that seems unreal, as your mind is stuck in a past with uncomfortable memories, your future with him is uncertain.
Send me an ask if you want to be put on the taglist for this series
Taglist:@my-summer-night @deputyjuyeon @juhaktheoneforme @sunqnew @givememunjang
Word count: 2.9k+
Warnings: make out session, Hak gets blue balled :)
Things have been going pretty smoothly between you and Haknyeon since the date. You even had a small in-home date the week after, you were content but not satisfied. The romantic tension has been building up in the house, for you at least. You couldn’t tell what exactly Haknyeon was thinking or feeling. There were a collection of moments where something could have happened between the two of you, but Haknyeon always backed away first.
You figured he was just trying to be respectful towards your feelings, except you were feeling that you two should have at least kissed a long time ago. Your attraction towards Haknyeon grew each day, finding out more about him and his little oddities. You found out while going through your recent books how much Haknyeon influenced your writing, you could see it wasn’t a coincidence that the male lead in your sixth book was so similar to him. This only made you feel more drawn to him. The most you had done was hold hands, and that was on the first date, at this rate if you didn’t do or say something kissing would be about six months away.
You sighed as you were trying to work on your latest work, it would go smoothly till your mind drifted to Haknyeon. You get up from your desk seat stretching your body, you go grab your phone from the bed. You send a message to him asking when he is coming home. He responds quickly and you smile. After finding out he’ll be home soon you think about how to move things along.
Going back to your laptop you save the document you were working on, deciding that you did enough for today. You walk downstairs to the kitchen looking for what you can make for dinner. You realize out of all the times you cooked it never seemed to be enough for Haknyeon. When he cooked there was considerably more food compared to your meals, he never complained, but you could tell he was used to eating more than what you made. You decided to try making more food from now on.
Almost an hour has passed and the food is almost done. You just let it simmer. You cleaned up the mess you made while you waited, it was all short work now so you also set the table while you waited. Just in time, you hear the door unlocking and opening as you set the bowls down.
“I’m home!” Haknyeon calls out from the entranceway while taking off his shoes. You came to greet him, poking your head into the entranceway.
“Welcome back.” Haknyeon smiles at your greeting. “You’re just in time, I just finished making dinner, so I hope you’re hungry.”
“I always have room for food.” He follows you back to the kitchen, watching you turn off the burner.
“You can put your stuff away first, I’m still setting up.” Haknyeon just drops his duffle bag in the living room before coming back to you looking eager to help.
“I can help too.” Add that to the list of things you find attractive about him, always so helpful and caring.
“Okay, take these to the table then,” you hand him the rice bowls and he happily complies. Dinner starts as it normally does and you ask each other the usual question of how was your day. He compliments the food joyfully eating to his heart’s content, which makes you happy. There wasn’t much to say, but it was very natural for the two of you to fall into silence while eating, focusing on the food.
You finished eating before Haknyeon, but you still sat at the table letting the food settle a little. You were glad that you made more seeing how well he is eating everything.
“You are really cute, you know that?” You suddenly speak up and he freezes at your statement.
“...Thank you?” He was flattered but confused as to why you said that out of the blue.
“I just wanted you to know what I think.” He nods accepting your answer and continues to eat for a bit more trying to play it cool while having a freak out on the inside. When he finally sets his utensils down you speak once more. “Now that you’re done, there is something I want to talk to you about.”
“Is that what your texts were about?”
“Yes, but like I said it’s nothing bad, actually it should be pretty good for the both of us.” he gives you a curious look.
“I’m all ears.”
“So you know how we’ve been sleeping downstairs since that one time? Well, I’m kinda tired of sleeping on the floor.”
“I already told you, you didn’t have to stay with me. You can go back.”
“I know, I thought instead of going back by myself you could join me back.” You wait for his reaction which seemed delayed.
“...You mean you want to sleep in our bed, together,” Haknyeon says, putting emphasis on the last word.
“Yeah, I don’t see the problem. You have my full trust that you won’t try anything if I’m not ready.”
“I didn’t say it was a problem, just… are you sure? You’re not saying this because you feel bad or something?”
“Honestly I do feel a bit bad, but this is something that I want to do as well,” you place a hand over your heart showing your sincerity. Haknyeon is silent for a moment searching you for any hint of hesitation, but there is none.
“Okay then, thank you for trusting me.” You both smile at each other and start to clean up the table together. Very slowly, the two of you were making progress in your relationship. After the clean-up was done, Haknyeon went to properly put his duffle bag away and you went to do your evening ritual of watering the plants in your yard. Although it wasn’t much of a yard to speak of seeing how small the space was, it was still enough for you to have a variety of potted plants large and small.
You took your time caring for each plant and cleaning the fallen leaves and petals off the ground from the flowering tree that was in between yours and your neighbor’s house. You finally get to the hydrangea plant and see that there is a small odd-looking cluster, you realize that it's the bud and get excited. Looking around the hydrangea you see a few other buds, you crouch next to it, praising the plant and asking it to continue growing well. You were excited to see them bloom, you had asked Haknyeon before if you had grown these flowers before and he answered that you tried last year but they didn’t bloom at all. This made you more excited to see them, it wasn’t like you had never seen Hydrangea before, but it was different when you grow the plant yourself.
“Haknyeon?!” you call out to him hoping he can hear you through the small crack you left in the sliding door.
“Did you call me?” you hear his voice shout from in the house.
“Yeah. Can you come out here and look at this, please?”
“I’m coming.” He comes out soon after and slips on his outdoor slippers walking next to you, raising his eyebrows asking what’s up.
“Look, they have started to bud.” You beam a smile at him while pointing at one of the buds. He looks at it, noticing all the buds giving it a curious glance crouching next to you.
“I’ve never seen them as buds before…,” he smirks. “It looks a little weird.” you chuckle nodding in agreement.
“What color do you think they’ll be?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. I think blue would be a nice color though.”
“I hope it’s purple. Maybe it will have both colors.”
“Fingers crossed,” you say and the both of you cross your fingers. The wind blows a particularly strong breeze knocking off dozens of petals off the tree, annoyingly landing into your yard again making you sigh, which Haknyeon laughed at. You decided to look at the bigger picture, at least it made a beautiful scene like in those anime. “Well, at least it's pretty.” Your back faced the setting sun while streaks of light shone on Haknyeon's face painting him an alluring golden color.
Haknyeon's eyes that were focused on the tree switch to you realizing you are looking at him. His eyes squint a little at the sun, he notices a couple of petals had landed on your head.
“Very pretty.” He reaches out, plucking one of them off your head and gently brushing the other ones away. He showed you the petal in his hand, tittering. For a second you thought he was talking about you and then felt mortified to realize that wasn't the case. He blows the petal away oblivious to your current emotions.
“That… were you trying to be romantic?”
“Huh?” Haknyeon questions you but then realizes what you mean. “Oh, no. Sorry, I didn’t even realize. I meant the flower. Wait no, I’m not saying you aren’t pretty. The flower is pretty, but you are prettier.” You felt a little down at first knowing he meant nothing by it, but seeing him trying hard to appease you made you laugh out loud. Hearing you he groans and mutters, “What am I even saying?”
“You’re good, I understand,” you say while trying to stifle your laughter. Now it was Haknyeon’s turn to feel mortified.
“Haha, yes, very funny.” He dramatically rolls his eyes and then stands up. He offers you a hand up, which you take, standing up as well.
“Sorry sorry. You really are cute though….”
“I won’t be able to take much more if you keep complimenting me like that,” he grabs at his heart playing up the act.
“And what would you do?” You cross your arms, tilting your head in question.
“Hmm, probably die,” he clasps his hands together over his stomach acting like he’s dead. Then I would wait for my true love to kiss me back to life.” He peeks one eye open, smirking, looking for your reaction.
“Okay, prince charming. Back into the house with you,” you say, trying to hold back your smile. You wondered what you were going to do with yourself if he kept joking like that, you might actually lose it and just kiss him. Your answer to him would have been different if you knew at the moment he was seriously testing the water to see how you felt about kissing. Haknyeon thought he had a chance of a positive answer considering how flirty you were today, but he doesn’t take your answer to heart.
“Yes ma’am.” He told himself he would try again another day. As Haknyeon went back into the house, you continued your work in the yard.
***
The rest of the evening continued as per usual. Though the real trial to come for both of you was going to sleep. After you finished preparing for bed, while you were waiting in bed for Haknyeon you made a tweet wondering if moving to the bed would have been too sudden, still, you don’t regret your decision. You see that Haknyeon replied to the tweet and you smile since he was less than 15 feet away in the bathroom. He came out of the bathroom soon after and casually took up his old spot.
“Welcome back to the room,” you say, facing him. He turns his body to the side facing you.
“Good to be back,” there is a pause with nothing much else to say.
“Goodnight, Haknyeon.”
“Goodnight, y/n.” You turn your back to him pretending the reason was to get comfortable, but really you were nervous because of how close you were this time around. Before you could sleep at the edge of the blanket but now the edges hung off the side of the bed so there was less surface area to lay on. You try to calm your mind, It’s whatever. This isn’t the first time we slept together anyway.
Your mind drifts to earlier in the evening, when Haknyeon had mentioned kissing, That was my chance, wasn’t it. Stupid. You chastise yourself for unknowingly hindering yourself. I can fix this, I just have to make the first move. I don't think I can wait for Haknyeon… forgive me for being greedy.
“Haknyeon?” You say while turning back to face him again.
“Hmm?” He hums in response, eyes still closed.
“Can the heroine revive you?” his eyebrows knit together unsure of what you are trying to say and then opens his eyes to see your sincere ones staring into him.
“What?”
“I’ve been thinking for a while now that maybe we should move things along.... I don’t know about you but I’ve been feeling some romantic tension between us for a while now and I think I might go crazy if it stays like this, and nothing happens.” Or maybe I'm already crazy for even saying all this. “Can we kiss?” He finally realizes you were referring to what he said about needing a kiss to come back to life.
“Seriously?” To Haknyeon this proposal seemed out of the blue since he thought he was rejected earlier today.
“Very serious.”
“That’s what you want?”
“Mhm.” He lifts his body, propping himself up with his forearm and you scoot a little closer to him. He cups your cheek with his other hand caressing you for a while. Your heart pounds hard then you feel his breath tickle your face as he draws closer and you close your eyes thinking this is finally it. You feel his lips press against your cheek and open your eyes when it wasn’t what you expected.
You saw his warm gaze on you before you closed your eyes again as he went back in for another kiss on your other cheek and then another. You opened your eyes once more when he pulled away once more cheeks pink, apologizing.
“Sorry, I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“Haknyeon, I need you to trust me when I say, you aren’t taking advantage of me. I know what I want. You aren’t forcing me,” you say while you reposition yourself to sit up moving closer to him again, placing your hand behind his neck. “You can’t say ‘you can’t’ after teasing me with those kisses when you knew I wanted something like this. With those words, you lean into him and he closes his eyes this time, giving him a small experimental open mouth kiss.
His lips feel soft against yours and you find yourself wanting more of the softness. You pulled away and just as quickly kissed him again, you could feel this time his hand on your cheek moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Slow and gentle, you feel how he was caring for you, this only riled you up, wanting more. Your fingers found their way to his silky locks, nails scratching his scalp. A groan came from Haknyeon’s throat in response but he didn’t pull away so you pushed further.
You traced his lips agonizingly slowly seeing how far he would let you go. His eyes flew open when he felt an acute pain on his lips. You both lock eyes as you lightly pull on his lower lip with your teeth, making him let out a small gasp. You pulled away unsure if you hurt him. He fully sat up and then leaned over you, grabbing your chin.
“Be careful. I’m the type that bites back harder.” His words sent shivers down your spine. This time he moves first, pulling your shoulders, bringing you back to him. True to his words he bites your lip and you jump letting out a whimper at the sensation. As if to quell your pain he runs his tongue along your bottom lip, instinctively you open your mouth to let him.
As his tongue pushed past your lips you could feel your body get increasingly hotter by the second, slow and gentle turned into feverish and greedy as his tongue dominated your mouth. Haknyeon had to constantly remind himself to not move his hands from your shoulders. It’s just a kiss, just a kiss, he tells himself. Your hands rested on his forearms, squeezing them as you whimpered into the kiss. I’m so fucked.
Haknyeon pulled you away and pushed you down on the bed firmly. You can hear each other’s labored breathing, trying to catch your breath. He lowered his head and kissed your lips once more, but just as quickly pulled away as if that is all he would allow himself.
“Haknyeon?”
“That should be enough, for now.” you nod your head in agreement. You weren’t sure what possessed you to lose yourself like that. It was taken farther than you thought it would be, but it wasn’t bad. Actually, you really enjoyed yourself, so much so that you felt sleepiness follow after the excitement.
“I’m a little tired now.”
“That’s okay. You can go to sleep.” you move into a comfortable position facing him this time.
“Can I hold your hand?” Haknyeon was in distress but aided your request. You closed your eyes peacefully with his hand in yours. Meanwhile, Haknyeon wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t think he would end up blue balled tonight. Would it settle itself before you fell asleep or would he suffer till you fell asleep so he could take care of himself in the bathroom?
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#the boyz#tbz#the boyz social media au#the boyz smau#tbz smau#tbz social media au#haknyeon#ju haknyeon#juhaknyeon#the boyz haknyeon#tbz haknyeon#haknyeon fluff#haknyeon angst#haknyeon fanfic#haknyeon scenarios#the boyz angst#tbz scenarios#the boyz scenarios#the boyz fanfic#tbz fanfic#the boyz imagines#tbz imagines#the boyz fake texts#tbz fake texts#haknyeon smau#the boyz x reader#the boyz x you#the boyz x female reader#tbz x you#tbz x reader
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