#I think he would probably start growling at people too
Note
I miss professor reichsgraf
GN! Bad Student Reader x Professor OC!
Minors DNI
CW: GN! Reader, reader referred to as they/them, no body descriptions for reader, lots of swearing tbh lol, reader is RUDE (just because they’re sleepy! we still stan🥰) spanking, pet names for reader(good kitten, darling), Sub!Reader, reader has hair(not described just enough to grab), fingering (not specified which hole dw), nipple play, crying reader, tetro?, overstim, dubcon(no proper safeword), sado maso, p in hole, not proofread.
(IDK i hope it turned out okay, it doesn’t seem the way i want it, but i can’t tell rn if it’s just me T.T)
“You are, quite possibly the worst student i’ve ever had the misfortune of teaching.”
You mock him on the phone with your bestie.
“Stupid ass over qualified teacher.”
“Fur reaaaalll. my gods, what an asshole!” they respond.
“It’s too bad he’s so hot. What a waste.” You resume what you were doing and hold the phone between your ear and shoulder.
“I would tap, i wonder if he’s into that like teacher/student play…” they trail off.
“Ew. please don’t fantasize about my dickwad professor. At least with me around,” You feign gagging.
The next day in class you’re slouching, hoping to the gods that he just forgets you exist so that you can try and catch up on your assignments… But Fuck it’s so hard! You don’t have time for school work when you’re home, because you’re usually sleeping, after your two jobs. And all these pompous professors do is give homework!!! ALL OF THEM.
It’s the end of the ninety minute mark and you, along with everyone else, starts packing your things.
“Y/L/N. Stay behind a minute.” Professor Reichsgraf sighs, and tosses an empty cup into the trash can.
“Uuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhg!” You groan, thankfully the room is loud enough that he might not of even—
“Gods, you’d swear I told you that you’re going to jail,” He laughs. He’s sat behind the desk a little slouched like normal, head in a hand, elbow on a stack of papers (probably so it’s more comfortable) you tsk out loud at your thoughts, before pretending to yawn.
What a class A assho-
“Have a seat,” he asks.
“This will take that long??” You sigh out frustratedly.
“Gods, you young peop—”
“Oh don’t you ‘young people these days’ Me, mister!”
“It’s Doctor.”
“Oooo big dif. Fuck off” You cross your arms and roll your eyes.
He rolls his own, “Just sit.”
With a *plop*! into the seat, you do.
The professor stands, his hand lazily traces a knot in his desk as he rounds the table and approaches you slowly. “I don’t usually do this…”
“Woah, Um isn’t there like a rule against—”
“What!?” He furrows his brow then massages it quickly between his finger and thumb. “No, i’m offering to tutor you,” He sighs in annoyance.
“Oh really?” You would still really like to at least pass… “Okay fine.”
“What? really? no deals needed?” He looks you over.
shrugging, you say, “I mean what are you offering?”
“Nope, it’s a done deal, you already signed the dotted line crossed your t’s and all that.” He steps ever closer, and leans on the table you’re sat at.
“When do we start?”
~
You’ve had a few sessions with your professor but nothing seems to be working, the information just isn’t sticking until…
“Bend over.” Reichsgraf growls, head in his hand in frustration.
“Excuse me?” Your brows raise in shock.
“Bend over my knee, right now. You aren’t learning this way.”
You think at first he’s lying. Just trying to make you uncomfortable or something, maybe a bee flew into his coffee this morning so he’s taking it out on you. You don’t know. But you do it. You get down, lay over his lap and wait.
His hand massages your rump, “Now what’s the answer to number five?”
“A?”
A hand comes down onto your flesh with a *Smack!*
“Ow!” You yelp! “What the fuck!?”
“What is the answer to number five? Don’t just guess.”
“Is it not A?” You ask, it looks right… Right?
*SMACK!”
“OW!!” You yelp again, louder this time, it stings so much more the second time!
“You know the answer.”
“C!” You suddenly remember something he said about it yesterday, and he’s right, you did know the answer!
“Good job, I’m impressed.” He isn’t lying, he really is. Only two spanks on the first time? Maybe he had been hoping for more though, to be honest.
It’s a unique way to have to learn like this, but with you, he’s happy to oblige. All the time spent being frustrated that you couldn’t commit even the simplest knowledge to memory, he can finally get rid of…
“Okay now six.”
“Do we have to do the whole assignment like this?”
“Yes. Six.”
You shout, “A!”
*Smack!*
“Shit! I mean B!” You wince.
“You guessed again. Read the answer, and tell me why it’s correct.”
“Do i have to? I got it right that time.”
Suddenly the hand on your rear moves to your clothed sex, he presses down hard and trails along the divide. A gnawing heat starts to grow in your lower half quickly.
“Hey! wait-!”
“We don’t have the time. what is the answer to seven?”
“D!”
“Good Kitten,” His baritone seems even deeper somehow, as he rubs you harder, your jeans are getting too hot to bare. “We need these off.” He tugs on your back belt loop.
“Yeah…” You shock yourself when you agree so readily. You stand to unbutton them and get them off, but he slaps your hands away and takes your pants off for you.
Your body gets thrown around until your bent over the desk and the wood’s digging into your hip bones.
“Professor-!”
A growl escapes his throat. his hair is messier than usual when you turn back to look, before he grabs yours and steers you forward.
His fingers enter you first, already setting a fast pace, he curls them and scissors them; all while pistoning so fast you feel like you’re already teetering on the edge. “Such a good kitten, you’re doing so good for me,” He hums deeply in his throat.
You whine and wriggle, until he tenses his grip in your hair and on your hip. His hand fans out over your skin and gropes you the entire way up to your chest, pressing a traveling dent into your stomach and over your ribs. Your brows peak, and your mouth hangs open.
“Seven.”
“SERIOUSLY???” You stomp, way to take you out of it.
*SLAP!* Your ass was sore from the earlier abuse, to be slapped now stings so brutally!!!
“F-fuck!!” You shake.
“Seven. Now.” His hand is raised and prepped to hit you again.
You shimmy and jump, “No, no more please!!”
*SLAP!*
“AHH!” You screech! “ummm,” You read the question rapidly through bleary eyes, “D! D! It’s D!!!” You shout and writhe in his grasp.
“I’m so proud of you, I knew you could do this,” He rubs something cooling on your ass cheek and it feels so much better!
“Oh thank you thank you oh my gods.” you let out so much air you feel dizzy. His cock starts to rub against you, making your dizzy spell last longer. it’s so hot and hard and.. LONG! Holy shit it’s so long! You’re gonna be speared to death on that thing! You drool at the anticipation! “Fuck me.” You say it in a long groan as an expression but also mean it very much.
“You deserve it, you’ve been doing so good,” Holy shit, his words strike some heavenly chord that opens your pearly gates wide for him, and he enters without resistance, taking his time to really appreciate your interior.
“Holy shit!” You can’t help the obscenities, they just fall from your lips naturally, you’re so surprised at all of this, at yourself for willingly doing it, at your hot teacher for wanting you in the first place, at so many things…. Most of all at how HOT his dick is like molten lava inside you and it feels fucking DIVINE.
“You’re such a good kitten,” He rubs you as you take his length.
His movements are calculated, every single one. No matter how fast they hit your spots like a master martial artist targeting pressure points. You aren’t getting a break from his assaults every strike is a critical blow. Even when he slows down his spongey head sweetly kisses those spots igniting obscene fires that don’t have time to burn out before being reignited fully.
You’re getting close, so painfully close to a volcanic eruption, your bubbling!
“Cum for me, darling” He leans down over your back, to whisper into your ear, his voice gravely and so low.
“AHH!!!” You scream out and your whole body goes rigid and convulses, his own cum shoots inside you and you take all of it.
“So good for me, you took me so well, darling…” His eyes practically have hearts in them.
#cookie speaks#my oc#yandere#oc x reader#oc x you#yandere x reader#yandere x you#my fic#tw yandere#dead dove do not eat#professor oc#reader x yandere professor#oc professor reichsgraf#yandere professor x you#professor x you#yandere professor#professor x reader#x oc#x reader#x you#gn reader x yandere#gn reader#gn reader x oc#gn!reader#yandere oc#yandere male
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Wavelengths [Killer x Reader, Heat x Reader]
🔞 Minors DNI 🔞
A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.
CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.
Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1
Chapter 25 - Respect
The henchmen take advantage of your vulnerability now that your mask is broken, and there is hell to pay.
WC: ~6k
Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @iggy5055
“Well, it’s not great,” Kid started. You let out a long groan and flopped dramatically over the couch in Kid’s workshop where you’d been sitting with Killer while Kid examined the damage on your mask. “Would you let me fucking finish girl?” Kid growled.
You sat back up expectantly, and Killer pulled you to sit in his lap. You were incredibly tense and stressed, for good reason, so he rubbed your shoulders. You sighed a little as his warm hands worked through the knots in your tightly wound muscles.
“I was going to say,” Kid continued, “that it’s fixable, I think. The metal and electronics I can deal with myself, but whatever this weird polymer glass the visor is made out of will need a specialist glassworker, I can’t do that bit myself. Do you have the other shard?”
“It’s probably under my bed,” Killer hummed. Kid raised an eyebrow and wiggled it suggestively. “Fuck off, Kid” Killer rolled his eyes. He wasn’t wearing his mask, so it was clear for Kid to see his agitation.
“Just surprised is all,” Kid replied with a sly grin, “thought you two were ‘taking your time’ or whatever”
“We are taking our time,” Killer huffed, “Doesn’t mean we can’t spend the night together. It’s none of your business anyway but people can do things in a bed other than just mindless fucking”
“Can we get back to the mask please?” you shifted nervously.
“Sorry princess,” Killer replied, giving you a chaste kiss on the cheek and wrapping his arms around your waist. Kid made a mock gagging sound.
“Ooooh~ Princess~” he repeated back in a forced high pitch, “You two are disgusting.” Killer just scoffed in reply and buried his face in your shoulder. Kid turned back to his workbench and examined the visor closely again. “I’m not sure how Vegapunk made this glass, it’s mixed with something I’m not familiar with, but I’m fairly sure if I make a mould and knock the rest out that a glassworker can melt it back together and reshape it. It’ll probably be a little shorter than before, given the material that’ll be lost in processing and that there’s probably smaller unsalvageable shards in the carpet, but it should still cover your eyes”
“That’s all I need anyway,” you replied hopefully.
“If I remember correctly, I think I saw a glassworker on the island we’re heading back to,” Kid furrowed his brows in thought, “We’ll be there for five days, should be plenty of time to fix it. I’ll need to grab some extra things too for my part but it should be fixed by the time we set off again”
You groaned and flopped again, covering your face with your hands, “That’s eight days away, what the fuck am I suppose to do for eight days without my mask?”
“Use a sword like everyone else, lazy ass,” Kid scoffed, “We know the area between here and there is fairly unoccupied so we shouldn’t get into trouble, don’t get your panties in a twist”
“I’ll twist your fucking panties,” you mumbled under your breath as you stood, pulling Killer up with you and handing him his mask. “I want a snack”
“But you just ate,” he pouted. You turned and gave him your best puppy dog eyes. “Fineeee,” he sighed in defeat and followed you out of the workshop.
Things were frustratingly mundane for the next two days, you never realised how much you’d started using your powers regularly for small things till you couldn’t use them anymore. You felt like a grounded child, and you stomped around the ship pouting and voicing your annoyance to anyone who would listen, mostly captive audiences caught in the middle of a chore. On top of it, your nausea hadn’t faded, and you were starting to worry you were coming down with something. Mohawk gave you a once over, but you didn’t have a cough or fever yet, so he was fine letting you continue to mingle with the others, you didn’t seem contagious. He agreed with your reasoning that you must have eaten something a little undercooked at the feast, given the hurried nature of the preparation, and it would likely pass in a few days. He gave you nausea meds in the meantime, which helped for the most part.
You stayed with Killer again, but neither of you attempted anything further than making out and some light groping. You weren’t really in the mood anyway, given your stress right now, but it was a nice distraction. You felt unbearably anxious about the mask situation, Kid’s comment about the glass had you on edge that a glassworker might not even be able to mould it, given it was some sort of special mix. What if it wasn’t done properly and just kept shattering? What if reprocessing it ruined the special properties and it no longer filtered light correctly? You had no idea how it was originally made so you had no way of knowing if there was some special technique they needed to use for the glass. Killer could sense your stress, so he forced you to take a bath to relax. He set up floral smelling bubbles and candles and soothing music playing on a low volume, and you’d convinced him to join you. It had helped temporarily, but you were just as stressed again the next day when you woke up and reached for your mask, forgetting it wouldn’t be there.
Then there was the henchmen. The first day, nobody took note of your lack of mask. The commanders and officers had been filled in, in case something happened, so they knew not to rely on your powers if something happened, but the henchmen just assumed for the most part that you just didn’t feel like wearing it for the day. On the second day, rumours had spread, and you often caught them sneering at you, sometimes even openly laughing at you. They were probably right to laugh, you were a competent, fast, agile fighter without your powers, but when it came to serious fights you relied heavily on your fruit. You may have trained with the marines your entire teens, but you were rusty and out of practice with traditional fighting. Your role on the ship was as a weapon, without your fruit you were nothing. I mean, there was the nurse thing, but it was barely anything at this stage, you were still learning. You’d long since known that the henchmen hated you, because of the way you earned commander status without working through the ranks for it, and because you never did any chores. They’d accepted it because Kid had told them to, and because your devil fruit made you a powerful ally, but without it you were just some annoying, lazy girl, getting away with shit they’d probably get thrown overboard for. It made you uneasy to feel their eyes on you as you went about your day, so you stuck by Killer as much as you could. Unfortunately though, Killer had the night watch, and you had the watch after, so you couldn’t just hide up in the crows nest with him, you needed to get some sleep. It was another thing that made you feel useless. Without your fruit the others had to completely rearrange the schedule to account for you no longer being suitable for nightwatch. With your fruit you had incredible night vision, without it you wondered whether you actually might need glasses.
He spent the time between dinner and the nightwatch with you in your room, just cuddling and talking about all manner of unimportant things. There was a sense of unease as he left, but you didn’t want to burden the crew any further by making him swap shifts with someone else, so you let him go. At some point you managed to fall asleep, but probably only due to the fact that you could still smell him on your sheets, and his scent gave you great comfort.
You didn’t register that you were awake at first as your ankle was grabbed and you were yanked from your bed. You gave a yelp as your head hit the floor hard, and that finally woke you up. A mass loomed over you, but in the pitch black of the moonless night you couldn’t tell who it was, or how many there were. You reached for your sword but they had already taken the liberty of moving it, so you kicked frantically at the intruder, or intruders. Your other ankle was grabbed, and another shadow moved to pin your wrists. You could see now that there were at least three forms, but you still couldn’t tell who they were. You opened your mouth to let out a scream, but the third man shoved a pair of dirty panties from your laundry hamper in your mouth. You gagged at how deep he shoved them, almost to the point of choking you, and you thrashed wildly as best you could with your ankles and wrists held down.
The third man seemed like the ringleader, and he bent down over you, smacking your face hard and pinching your chin to force you to look at him. He reeked of liquor, and his words slurred as he spoke.
“What happened to your big bad guard dog, whore?” he growled, “You think you’re so much better than us, aye? Stupid little slut, parading around all day, doing fuck all, seducing our commanders so you can get away with whatever the fuck you want” He spat on your face, and you had to shut a eye to keep it from dripping into it. “Not so tough now, are we? Since your pussy is all you’re good for now, how bout you be a good girl and let us get what we’re owed?”
The men holding you flipped you unceremoniously, your nose audibly cracking as it hit the floorboards, and the ringleader forced your ass into the air, pushing up your nightie and tugging your panties down. You were shaking with fear, whimpering around the cloth in your mouth, streaks of tears rolling off your cheeks as you mentally begged any god that would listen to send someone to help.
The ringleader grabbed your hair and pulled it tight, some of the strands ripping from your scalp painfully. “We heard how the marines treated you, and we think it's about time someone reminded you what you're good for. Flitting about all day doing shit all, riding off our success, toying with our commanders like you're one of them. You didn't earn that right, what makes you better than us, huh?” He punched you in the side, then wrapped his hand tight around your neck. You wheezed as you struggled to breathe. “You're nothing but a spoiled whore, nothing but a couple of hot holes to fill.”
You could hear that all too familiar, sickening sound of a pants fly being unzipped, and you felt yourself slipping back into the dark place in your mind. The sound of the door opening behind you barely registered in your mind before something hard and round hit your back and rolled off, landing to your side. You turned and saw a disembodied head, its lifeless eyes staring at you, frozen in shock. It was quickly followed by a second, the head making a thump as it hit the floor hard, the hold on your ankles and wrists suddenly released as two of the men fell dead, and the other attempted to flee. The ringleader’s body fell on to you, and with your now freed hands you pulled the fabric from your mouth and scrambled out from underneath him, climbing on to the bed as you pulled your panties back up, and pushing yourself into the corner so hard you wondered if you might meld with the walls. Blood was gushing from your nose, and you pinched it tight, wincing at the pain. A wide framed man held the third assaulter against the wall by the neck, his feet dangling above the ground. You saw now the long blond mane, and breathed in relief as you realised Killer had come for you. Perhaps there was a god, or perhaps he was that god, Ares made flesh, going to war in your name as he took lives for you without hesitation.
He gripped hard, and you heard the man’s neck crunch as Killer crushed it, the man choking on his last breath before Killer let him fall limp to the floor. He turned to look at you, and in the light coming from the hall through the open door you could see the blood that had sprayed over his mask and front of his clothes, the scarlet dripping from his now stilled blades, the way his shoulders shook with unbridled rage as his chest heaved from deep, furious breaths. He was on the edge of losing himself, you could feel the tense anger in the air that radiated off him, scolding and stifling. With a deep breath you shuffled forward, taking his hand gently in yours. He looked down at your joined hands, his breathing audibly calming as he got his rage under control and came back to you.
“Did they hurt you?” he huffed. It came out as almost a growl, and sent a shiver through you.
“I think I broke my nose, but I’m okay,” you whispered. You were shaking, he now realised, and he closed the door, quickly discarding his weapons before climbing on to the bed and wrapping himself protectively around you. He didn’t remove his mask, he didn’t want you to see the anger still on his face and fear him. “Kil, they were gonna…”
“Shh, I know, you’re safe now,” Killer cooed, pressing his mask against your shoulder and pulling you tighter to his chest. “You’re okay, I’ll never let anyone hurt you again”
“Kil, the night watch-” you started.
“Fuck the watch, this is more important,” he huffed angrily, “I could sense their intent to harm from the crows nest, fucking pigs”
You turned in his arms to face him, putting a hand on either side of his mask, asking silent permission. He reached back and you heard the latch click, and he let you guide it slowly from his face, placing it on the bed carefully. His face was written with anguish, he felt like he’d let you down that you’d come so close to being violated again. He was the first mate, it was his job to protect you, his job to make sure nobody who would do you harm was allowed on this ship, and he’d failed. You held his face and stroked his cheeks with your thumbs,pressing your forehead against his.
“I’m okay, I’m safe,” you whispered, feeling now that he was the one who needed consoling. He blinked down at you, confused. “This wasn’t your fault Kil, you got here in time, that’s all that matters”
He wanted to cry looking at you, still beaming up at him with such adoration despite his failings, despite how close you’d come to being raped again. Your front was covered in blood, your nose still dribbling but mostly clotted. It was definitely broken, sitting at an awkward angle, and would need to be reset. Looking around, your small room was fairing no better. Three bodies on the floor, two of them headless and still leaking blood onto your floor, staining your rug. The walls and bed were splattered with blood as well. He sighed and shifted you off him so he could stand, holding a hand out to you to help you up and putting his mask back on.
“We need to go tell Kid,” Killer frowned, “he’s not going to be happy. There were likely others who knew about this as well, we need to weed the rats out. And we need Mohawk to look at your nose”
You nodded in reply and took his offered hand, linking your fingers with his and letting him lead you. He woke Mohawk first, since his room was nearby. The man was dazed and rubbing sleep from his eyes, but quickly became alert when he saw how much blood was on both of you, and the state of your nose.
“What the fuck happened?” he complained, turning your face to-and-fro to inspect your nose.
“She was attacked,” Killer said plainly, “Take her to the infirmary and reset it, but don’t clean her up yet, I want Kid to see what they did”
Mohawk nodded and placed a hand on your shoulder, and you let him gently lead you away. The infirmary was lower in the ship, accessed from this side, while Kid and Killer’s rooms, as well as the navigation room, were in the front of the ship. You watched over your shoulder as Killer stomped away, his normally quiet, agile footsteps heavy with anger and purpose.
As soon as you stepped into the infirmary you got a whiff of the strong medical grade cleaners and gagged, running to the nearest sink and puking. Some of what you threw up was blood, having gone down the back of your throat while you were bleeding. You planted your hands flat on either side of the sink as you vomited, Mohawk quietly rubbing your back and holding your hair out of your face while you emptied your stomach. You were panting by the time you were done, and light headed from everything. Mohawk caught you before you could fall, leading you to a cot and urging you to lay down. He laid a cold cloth over your forehead before gathering what he needed for your nose. He’d have to wait for Kid to look you over before he could clean you off and tape your nose in place, but he could at least reset it for now. He gave you a quick injection of painkillers and anti nausea medication before quickly resetting your nose while you were still dizzy and out of it. You yelped and smacked him on instinct, to which he replied with a chuckle given how weak you were compared to most of the instinctual smacks he usually got.
You could hear Kid before you could see him, stomping angrily and roaring orders for everyone to wake the fuck up. Mohawk helped you sit up as he entered, followed closely by Killer. Kid’s soft side showed as he approached you, a forlorn look on his face as he held your face gently to inspect it, before looking you over.
“You good girlie?” he said softly.
“Yes Captain,” you replied calmly. He gave you a nod before backing up, the anger that had been on his face when he entered now returning.
“We’re gonna weed the rest of the cunts out,” his tone was deadly and you could feel the fire in his words, “Doc, bring her to the galley when you’re done patching her up. Don’t clean more blood than you have to, I want them to see what they did”
Mohawk gave him a nod and set to work cleaning off just what he needed to with the damp cloth as Kid stomped out. Killer gave you one last look before following behind him, there was work to be done.
Everyone on the ship was awake by the time Mohawk was finished with your nose, and they were being gathered in the galley, everyone except for a trusted officer who had been put on the rest of the nightwatch while Killer was busy, since Kid wanted all of his commanders for this, and Kid and Killer themselves, who were waiting for you outside the galley door. The cabin boys had also been left out of it, the henchmen barely spoke to them outside of chores so nobody had any doubt that they were innocent in the matter. The rest of the commanders were inside, throwing their weight around and ordering the henchmen and officers to move aside furniture and line up along a wall. They’d all heard what happened from Killer, and none of them were pleased. The air was tense, and you could hear the angry barking of the other commanders before you even approached. Mohawk gave the captain a curt nod before passing by him to join the others.
“You okay?” Killer asked softly, running a thumb over your cheek.
“Yeah, I’m good,” you leaned into his hand and gave him a small smile, “What’s the plan here?”
“There’s no way nobody else knew about the plan to hurt you,” Kid sounded cold and angry, not at you but at his crew and himself, “whispers carry quickly in the henchmen’s quarters. I’m going to threaten them, and Kil will use his haki to rat out the ones that are nervous”
“Let me do it,” you said flatly.
“Aye?” Kid raised a brow, “How you gonna do shit without your powers?”
“I’m not,” you explained, “I figure I have a good two minutes before I go feral. I’ll play the part of a sad, weak little girl in distress, I’ll hide behind Kil, and I’ll see right through him to see who has a racing heart when you threaten them. I’ll let Killer know how many, then when he gives the signal let me go. I’ll be feral, but with a target already locked in I won’t be a threat to anyone else. Let them see what happens when you fuck with me, with or without my mask. Just make sure you bring me under control before I kill any more than the number I indicated” You held up your bracelet to indicate you meant for Kid to flip your metal bracelet pendant when the time was right.
“You sure about this?” Killer sounded nervous.
“Yeah, I’ve never gone feral on purpose before, maybe I’ll have more control over it,” you mused, “either way, I’m gonna kill the bastards myself. I’ll tap your back with the number of them I see”
“Okay,” Killer put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly, “if you’re ready now then let’s go”
“Yeah, I’m ready,” you looked at Kid who looked just as nervous as Killer sounded, but he shook his head and put his angry face on before leading the three of you inside.
“ALRIGHT FUCKERS!” he roared as soon as the door was open, “LINE UP AND SHUT UP, THERE’S HELL TO PAY” He indicated for you to stand beside him, and you did your best to look anxious and upset. “You may have noticed the absence of three certain pigs here tonight. You’ll find them dead in Yin’s room, slain by Killer after he found them attempting to assault and rape her.” There was a murmur between the henchmen as they looked between each other to figure out who was missing. “I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Kid roared. You pretended to wince, and he pulled you in front of him. “I want you to all take a good look at what those fuckers did to MY property. This is MY ship, and anyone who goes against my word is seaking food.” He gave you a small shove towards Killer to indicate he was done showing off the blood that still covered your front, and you quickly hid behind the first mate and flipped your pendant. It was jarring at first, but as you had a few times on the island you let yourself adjust to it and focused as best you could on scanning the hearts of the crew.
“Now I’m not stupid,” Kid continued, beginning to pace along the lineup of men, “I know how whispers travel on this ship. Which means some of you no doubt knew about this plan, maybe even considered joining in, and did nothing to alert a commander. Stupid, really, you all know Killer has exceptional observation haki, he can probably already tell which of you fuckers are about to wet your pants”
You scanned them carefully, quickly locking in on two men with exceedingly fast heart rates. You tapped Killer’s back twice to indicate to him, and he in turn tapped the insides of his punishers. He and Kid had long since had these sorts of invisible signals set between each other, and Kid could feel the vibrations in the metal bracers. He smirked in recognition, knowing it was close to time to let you loose. He’d seen first hand the violence you could unleash in your feral state, he was excited to see you in action, without your teeth in his throat this time.
“He’s not the only one with that ability though,” Kid snickered as he continued, “you fuckers may think that without her mask, Yin is some helpless little girl, defenceless and free for the taking, but the mask is only a tool. She can see right through you, and she knows who is guilty already. You’re about to see exactly how ‘weak and defenceless’ she is”
You could feel the feral instincts of your hindbrain slowly clawing at your sanity, and you gave a warning growl, manipulating it purposely so the sound carried and echoed through the room, more akin to a bear than a girl. Killer snickered and stepped aside for you as you began to let the rage win out, twitching slightly as it took over, your fingers flexing as though to prepare claws you didn’t have, your smile wide and toothy. The henchmen began to break line, nervous as you approached. Their heart’s were all racing now as they saw your cold, lifeless pink eyes for the first time, but you already had your targets, locked in by the unique and unmistakable features that nobody else could even see.
“What’s wrong, men?” Kid laughed, “If you’re not guilty, then you have nothing to be scared off. Stay in fucking line”
The first of the guilty men began to back away, and you charged, roaring and sinking your teeth into his neck. When you’d done this to Kid, you had the intention of letting him die slowly, but with multiple targets to take care of, and the smallest hint of control since you had done this on purpose, you wanted to make a show out of it. You sank in deep as he fell to the floor, making animalistic, possessive growls as you burst his internal organs one by one, inflicting as much pain as possible, till finally you threw your head back, pulling a chunk of his neck with you. Normally you wouldn't have the strength to do that, but you’d slyly used your fruit to weaken the flesh, allowing you to make a gory show out of ripping his neck out. He gurgled as he choked on his blood, and you stood again, his crimson dripping down your maw, fresh and glistening over your own dried blood as you let the flesh drop from your mouth, landing with a wet splat in front of the others.
The other henchmen were yelling in fear, but Kid barked at them to stay in line. You turned to your second target, and the second you began to step towards him, he ran. You laughed cruelly and gave chase, laughing maniacally, clambering over tables to get to him, thankful they were metal so you could see them. He only got so far before you melted the flesh around his ankles, and he screamed as he went down. You pounced on him, sinking your teeth into any bare flesh you could find before weakening it and tearing it out with your teeth, exposing more and more of his insides as he continued to scream. He tried to fight back, so you coated yourself in haki, making yourself impenetrable against his useless clawing, till finally he fell limp when you tore out his jugular, choking on blood with his last breath. He was unrecognisable, an oozing pool of flesh and gore. You stood, throwing back your head and roaring victorious, letting the sound amplify and echo till it nearly deafened everyone in the room. You turned back to the rest of the henchmen, charging at them as Kid flipped your bracelet. You stopped right in front of a henchman, your face millimetres from his, a cold smile on your face and blood coating your teeth as you flashed them. You could hear him beginning to hyperventilate from fear and your smile widened as you took a few steps back, letting them all see the fresh blood that was dripping from you, blood you’d drawn while killing two full grown men with your bare hands, without your mask.
“I am not some weak little girl,” you barked, “I am a commander of the Kid Pirates, and I earned my place here by being more deadly and dangerous than any of you could ever dream of!” You paced the line of shaking, scared henchmen, smelling the urine on a few who had pissed themselves. “How many of you can kill hundreds in one fell swoop? How many of you can liquify a man without even touching him? You are all ignorant fools for thinking me weak, and I WILL have your respect, or you will die. If any of you ever so much as think about touching me again, I will burst your organs one by one, starting from the least life threatening, so you can feel them melting and tearing open inside you. You will be screaming for the mercy of death before I finish making you into a convenient flesh bag of soup for the seakings. Do I make myself fucking clear?” There was a silence from them as they shifted nervously under your gaze, “I said, DO I MAKE MYSELF FUCKING CLEAR?”
“YES COMMANDER” they replied in unison. The other commanders beamed with pride for you as they watched you take power. Until now, the henchmen had treated you with respect in person, but had always had little regard for you in private, always snickering behind your back and making bets about how long you would even last here. Now they were shaking with fear and pissing themselves as you commanded their respect.
“Clean this fucking mess up, and I expect my room to be fucking spotless by tomorrow,” you spat, waving a dismissive hand and turning back to the other commanders. The crew were quick to scatter, half of them going to the bodies you’d made, still warm and bleeding, the others fleeing to deal with your room. You, on the other hand had one thing on your mind, adrenaline coursing through your veins, still riding off the power high.
Kid smirked knowingly as you passed him towards Killer, to whom you gave a short “Follow,” as you passed before leaving the galley. He followed behind you obediently, rock hard from your display of strength and eager to be your plaything. You led him to his own room, waiting for him to enter before locking the door behind you. He removed his mask and turned to you, chest heaving with arousal, and you pushed him backwards till he was close to the bed, quickly unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down enough to expose his cock while he tore off his shirt. You pushed him back on the bed, his torso bouncing a little as it landed against the mattress, and you followed him on, straddling his hips and reaching down between you to pull your panties aside.
“Are you sure? Won’t it hurt?” Killer held your wrist as you tried to position his erection at your entrance. You growled possessively at him and he quickly let go, a shiver running down his spine as you sunk down on him. It did hurt, the scar tissue of your barely healed tears pulling tight as you stretched around him, but you couldn’t care less, the pain quickly overridden by pleasure as you started to ride him hard and fast.
You were still coated in blood, and it only served to make him harder, watching you ride him like you were still feral, giving in to your primal urges to claim and own him. You leaned down and sunk your teeth into his neck, and he moaned and writhed under you. You licked at the bite before sinking into a new spot, repeating it over and over till his neck and shoulder and chest were covered in raw, inflamed bite marks. You sat back up, admiring your work as you reached down and rubbed your clit furiously, throwing your head back and moaning while his fingertips sunk into your hips hard enough to leave bruises. He matched your pace, pressing against his heels to thrust up into you, almost bouncing you on his cock as he speared you. You came suddenly and hard with a gush of liquid, the release spilling out over his abdomen and pooling in his belly button. He took one look at your fluids dripping from him and let out a harsh groan, cumming so hard he shook underneath you as his load painted your still fluttering walls. You collapsed on his chest, the blood and fluids spreading between you, mixing with your sweat as you both panted hard.
“Fuck, fuck,” Killer panted underneath you, “I didn’t know you were a squirter”
“It’s only happened once before,” you huffed between breaths, “Is that okay?”
“Fuck yes, absolutely,” Killer laughed, then groaned, “we need to get cleaned up”
You sat back up, looking at the sheer amount of different bodily fluids you were both coated in and snorting. “Yeah probably”
Killer held your waist as he sat up and scooted you both towards the edge of the bed, kicking off his boots and his pants the rest of the way before pulling your nightie over your head and throwing it in the general direction of his laundry basket. He looked at your panties and frowned, they were still trapped between the two of you. He decided he didn’t want to pull out to remove them, so instead he tore them off, making you giggle. Now that you were both naked he lifted you effortlessly, keeping his cock warmed inside you as he walked you both to the bathroom. You wrapped your limbs around him like a monkey as he fiddled with the shower settings, settling on a temperature and stepping in, pinning you against the wall with the water running between you. His cock was hardening inside you again, and you made a small wanton whimper as you tried to shift on him. He took the hint and started to thrust languidly into you, holding you up with a hand on each ass cheek as he penetrated you at a lazy pace and kissed your neck.
You turned your head to meet his lips, kissing him slowly and lovingly as he sped up his thrusts, his tongue finding passage into your mouth and rubbing his wet muscle against yours as he swallowed your moans. You pulled away for air, panting hard. He pressed his face against your neck, groaning against you as he began to thrust up into you at a messy, desperate rate.
“I love you,” he groaned against your neck, nipping at it and licking the marks he left behind.
“I love you too,” you moaned, “Kil, fuck, I’m gonna-”
“Me too, fuck,” he pressed his face hard into your shoulder as he took harsh breaths, “cum with me, cum with me”
You gripped him hard, your nails sinking into his back as your pussy clamped down around him, cumming hard and pulling him with you. You nearly screamed as he fucked you hard against the wall and roared, spilling out inside you, pumping you to the point of over-stimulation before finally stilling. He pulled out of you slowly, his cum dripping down your thighs as he placed you down, still holding you against the wall as your legs shook.
As soon as he was sure you were steady, he let you go and grabbed a cloth to start wiping you clean, washing you meticulously as you steadied yourself against the wall for support, still shaking a little. You whined as he wiped between your legs, sore and over-sensitive, but he was careful and worked quickly. Silently he worked on washing you, cleaning your hair and massaging conditioner into it. You returned the favour, though he had to help with his hair since there was so damn much of it. Both clean and with conditioner in your hair, he held you close, standing in warm, comfortable silence under the water as he stroked your back lovingly and you buried your face in his chest.
[NEXT CHAPTER] - link soon
#one piece fanfiction#one piece smut#killer one piece#killer x reader#massacre soldier killer#heat one piece#heat x reader#kid pirates
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Here's the first bit of the promised Zevlor/Rolan little one-shot spicy story. It's more gentle than I expected, after the first bit, but I don't really plan things, and that's what came out. 🏳️🌈
Edit to tag @manicpixie-tieflingboyfriend in case they didn't see it. I gotchu fam.
“So I hear that you are planning to leave us.”
The gruff rumble of Zevlor’s voice cuts through your reverie and you look up, frowning. “I’m surprised you aren’t. They don’t want us here. We’re going to be forced out anyway. I’m just cutting to the chase.”
“And that is what it will be, Rolan. As soon as you step out that gate, the three of you will be vulnerable. And that’s not all. By abandoning the rest of us, you will be putting everyone at greater risk. We are stronger together.”
You bark a laugh, “are we? Dragging around a load of children, elderly, non-combatants. Almost all of them. I saw Guex yesterday. The kids. They will fall like wheat to the scythe. Can you and a handful of soldiers save them from gods know how many goblins and worgs and whatever else they send? At least, if it’s just Cal and Lia, we can hide, and I might be able to…”
He cuts you off with a chopping motion. “If I cannot hope to stand against this, then what chance do you have? You should wait. The party that just arrived, they are on our side. They have offered…”
“Bullshit. We don’t know those people. They took the Blade of Frontiers with them and fucked off. He was the only one left here that was on our side and the Arch Druid is probably dead. Even the mercenaries left after they knocked out their leader. For being rude to you, I might add. Can’t even fight your own battles. I think you’re going soft.”
“And I think you’re being very selfish. We have elderly, and actual children to care for. You should think of that instead of acting like one yourself.”
You growl, feeling the heat in your face. You know you’re getting too angry, given his calm demeanor, but you don’t care. “Yeah. Children and elderly, like you. Broken down old asshole. Half of our people are already dead because you can’t cut it anymore.”
You see him wince a little, and almost wish you could take the words back, but it’s too late. He bares his teeth, finally raising his voice, “Fine! Have it your own way. Petulant, stupid little brat. Go and get yourself and your family killed. I have better things to do than argue with you.” He whirls and starts to stalk toward the door of the cave he’s been using as an office, but his words burn you. Partly because you know he’s right, but you are seeing red, and almost before you realize what you’re doing, you raise your hand and shoot a single magic missile at his retreating back. It hits him, and he staggers, stopping dead. He’s wearing armor, but it still probably stung him pretty good.
Zevlor turns, “you really want to do this, you little shit? It would take more than…”
Desperate to shut him up, you snarl and send two more missiles his way, but incredibly, he manages to dodge one. Fuck, the old man is fast. The other hits him in the shoulder, and he shakes it off and starts toward you, fangs gleaming.
Dodge this, you think. “Detono!” He leans into the Thunderwave, and it pushes him back, his boots sliding over the stony floor, but he doesn’t go down. Shit, he’s still coming, and you’re getting tired.
You try to blow him back with a gust of wind, all you have left, but the spell is too weak, he seems hardly to notice, gripping your wrist and twisting, whipping you around, wrenching your shoulder and pressing himself to your back. His other hand flashes up to cover your mouth. “Stop this now,” he snarls, “save it for our real enemies.”
You struggle, squirming in his grasp, attempting to pry the hand from your face, curling your tail around his leg and yanking at it, but he is far too strong, and your shoulder is screaming, and you’re thinking of enemies. Enemies everywhere, threats on every side, goblins on the road, gnolls in the hills, druids trying to force you out. You hear the insults, the filthy names, flashing back to your life as an unwanted orphan, the sting of stones thrown by human children when you were cold, hungry, and desperate for someone, anyone, to care about you. And now Zevlor will hate you as well, the person you secretly trusted to be strong enough to save you and your siblings.
Perhaps he feels your chest hitch with the stifled sob, or the tears trickling onto his fingers, or perhaps not, but either way he releases your wrist then, letting you drop your arm, and wraps his arm around you, still holding you tight and covering your mouth. “Are you finished?” But his voice is much more gentle now, and you nod, gasping for breath when he releases you, stumbling forward to lean against the table. You are reluctant to turn, to let him see you crying, but he is silent, merely standing there behind you, perhaps waiting for something. An apology, most likely. You know you should apologize for picking a fight, for attacking him even when he was resisting what had to be a powerful urge to knock some sense into you. He hadn’t hit you even then, merely restraining you so you would stop trying to hurt him. Your shoulder aches, and your lips sting where they were cut against your own teeth, but the tough old Hellrider could have destroyed you if he’d wanted to.
“That was really stupid,” you rasp, finally turning to look at him, “I am sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”
He looks a bit stunned, taking in your tear-stained face and bruised, bloody mouth, but shakes his head, “we’re all under a great deal of stress. I should not have let it go that far. I engaged where I shouldn’t have. The fault is mine.”
He's blaming himself, as usual, looking so contrite that another little sob forces its way past your lip. You had hurt him, just not physically. You know how little Zevlor thinks of himself, and this is just another stone piled onto the great burden of guilt he carries. That, more than anything, causes your face to heat with shame and the tears to flow faster, and you cover your face with your hands. “No no no,” you whine, “it was me. It’s all just… too much. I am afraid… makes me so angry…”
He's here now, closing on you, his hands gentle, soothing, and you feel the soft wave of his power flow over you, healing the cuts, the bruises, the pain in your arm, and he pulls you to him, hushing you and tucking your face into his shoulder. You wrap your arms around him, uncaring of the armor, holding him tightly as he rubs your back, letting you cry on him and whispering words of praise and encouragement. He is so kind, you think, so steady, a solid wall to prop yourself against when the shadows gather too near. You finally run down and sniffle, chuckling a bit, “I’m going to rust your armor.”
“Fuck the armor.” He eases you back to look at you, and you wipe your face on your sleeve. “Better now?” He’s still speaking quietly, smiling a little but still looking anxious, and his solicitous nature moves something in you. Your hair has come undone and he reaches up to brush a lock from your eyes and tuck it behind your horn. So gentle, so generous, eyes so bright, just like yours, lips so soft… without thinking you lean forward and press your mouth to his.
Zevlor freezes for a moment, but then pulls back, holding you away from him. “You are overwrought, Rolan. I think you should rest now. Come, you can wash your face and when you are more yourself again you can go back…”
“No,” you interrupt him, clearing your throat and lowering your eyes, mumbling, “I mean, I am, yes, but that’s not why. I know you don’t feel the same but… I kind of… I have a little crush on you. Have for a while. I don’t know if you would ever… never mind. It’s fine, I’ll deal with it.”
He looks more surprised than he had before, but he’s still holding one of your hands, and he doesn’t release it. “I don’t know what to say. I’ve never thought about you like that. Never allowed myself to…” Of course he hadn’t. You had known men who had, who had made their desires very clear, sometimes even forceful, and you’d had to fight off quite a few unwanted advances in your youth. It was one reason you strove so desperately to make yourself more powerful. But Zevlor isn’t like that. You’d never seen him so much as look at anyone in a way that might suggest interest. If he has desires, he hides them very well.
You swallow, his proximity and the warmth of his hand in yours making you brave. “Well, think about it now. If… I mean, if you want to. If you don’t like men…”
He shakes his head, his burning eyes wide. “It’s not that. And you are very… but I still think you are a little off balance. Not thinking clearly. You couldn’t possibly be interested a battered old soldier like me.” But you see the barest flicker of hope cross his face. Hope that he would quickly crush himself if you don’t act decisively.
You touch his face, the ridges on his cheek, and he doesn’t pull away. “I should not have done that without permission. I’m sorry. I will ask this time. Zevlor, may I kiss you?”
He is silent for so long that you become nervous again, thinking that perhaps you’ve offended him. He’s going to refuse, you’d misread him. You are gathering yourself to apologize again, to pull away, to take back your words, but it seems you have just rendered him speechless, because after another moment, he merely nods. You blow out a breath, feeling relief flood through you. You have to reset yourself. You want this to be good. Steeling yourself you slowly lean forward, slide your fingers up into his hair, and touch your lips gently to his.
He doesn’t respond at first, but you shift closer, increasing the pressure incrementally, and after a few more seconds he begins to return your kiss. His lips are even softer and sweeter than you had imagined in your guilty late night fantasies, and he moves them slowly, hesitant, not applying much pressure of his own. He is being very careful, you think, probably he still doesn’t really believe that you want this, thinks you might change your mind and pull away with every second that passes. But you have no intention of stopping. It feels too good. You tilt your head a bit, fitting your mouth to his, sliding your fingers to the back of his head, and you feel his own large, warm hand lay lightly on your waist. He likes it. He’s responding, getting a little more confident, and you hear his sharp intake of breath when you flick your tongue briefly over his mouth. He parts his lips, slightly, allowing you to taste the moist inner surface, to touch the points of his teeth. The hand on your waist slips further, settling against your lower back above your tail. That appendage is trembling, and you can’t see, but you think his might be as well. You decide to check, passing the length between your legs and his, seeking his own tail. A soft brush of the spade on the end, and you coil it around his, squeezing a little. That seems to crack some of his reserve and he wraps his arms around you fully, opening his mouth and letting you push your tongue against his. You moan, feeling the delicate tapered points taste you carefully. It’s incredible. He feels amazing, his heat, his strong hands, his tail around yours, and you feel safe in his arms, protected.
But you want more. You want all of him, and you lose yourself in the intensity of the moment, sealing your mouth with his, and reach your hand around to grip his ass and pull him hard against you. You are as hard as granite, but the armor is in the way, you want it off, want him bare against you, on top of you, taking you. You are considering the fastest way to get into his pants when he suddenly breaks the kiss with a gasp. “Stop.” You shake your head, needy, and try to recapture his lips but he holds you away from him. “Not here. Not now. Someone else might walk in at any moment. And I… Rolan, that was… no one has touched me, kissed me in years. I need time to think, and we need to talk about this. Tonight. Down by the river. I will be there, and if you still feel… but I will not press you. If you change your mind I will understand. I won’t be upset. We can forget the whole thing, alright?”
You nod, breathing deeply, trying to calm yourself, but you know you will remember that beautiful kiss for the rest of your life. “I will be there.”
#zevlor#bg3 zevlor#zevlor bg3#nsft#zevlovers#bg3 rolan#rolan#rolan bg3#holy rolan empire#rolan x zevlor#zevlor x rolan
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I am thinking. About Robbie purring. Again. (Adding a read more because my thoughts really started zoomin with this one godamn)
Thinking he just finished fighting a lot of people and is actually feeling a little satiated, a little more satisfied for the moment. He’s walking back to the car when he notices the sound of another engine but it’s far far more muffled, and sounds happier (?) than the hell chargers violent background drone. Then he realizes it’s actually him. And it’s. Weird. But he’s already on fire and has a leather suit instead of skin so why the fuck w o u l d n t he make weird rumbley noises ghost rider is weird already.
So he snuffs out and goes home to Gabe, who just figured out how to do some kind of math problem by himself and is so excited to show Robbie. And Robbie is just. So proud. Gabe asks him for a hug and OF COURSE he gives one. And things just seem kind of right for the moment. His more violent needs are actually sort of satisfied (for now), Eli has shut the fuck up for once in his life, and Gabe is happy and learning and. There it is again. He can feel it in his chest this time which is extra weird because he can feel his lungs and his heart and his entire godamn ribcage VIBRATING.
Robbie immediately shifts too PANIK because he’s supposed to be HUMAN right now and HUMAN PEOPLE can’t make that fucking NOISE. But it also just won’t stop and dear god is it getting LOUDER? Gabe is confused but just keeps hugging his brother until his breathing goes back to normal and he stops radiating heat like a damn furnace and all thats left is what has grown to be a very comforting sound.
I’d imagine Gabe kinda loves it. Partly for sensory purposes because cat purrs are proven to help calm people. But primarily because it’s an easier way to read his brother. Very easy to tell when someone is actually happy when they have a noise dedicated to it.
Robbie is freaking the fuck out and actually starts to question how human he actually is even when he isn’t burned up. Scars and weird eye colors are… fine. But what the f u c k. What if other stuff starts leaking through (I personally think other stuff already HAS and if you x-rayed him he would be weird as fuck) He tolerates this though because of Gabe. If there was any other instance where he started purring elsewhere he would be fucking mortified.
Eli is m a d. The godamn indecency of it Robbie, why did you make us come back so fucking w e i r d. Well obviously its your fault I’m the one who knows what I’m doing. We are not a fucking CAT- oh wait that’s a really nice knife, great polish very shiny you should buy it
#I think he would probably start growling at people too#hes just a noisy boi#the existential crisis of purring lmao#I'm so sorry I just really love this idea#I also think robbie hard copes with his... situation by thinking of himself separate from ghost rider#so when traits start crossing over he gets really fucking upsetti spaghetti about it#robbie reyes#all new ghost rider#personal headcannon#gabe reyes#eli morrow#text post
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free roaming outdoor dogs a la cats are not a good idea and are just asking for injuries and conflict but unfortunately i've only ever had great experiences growing up in a neighborhood with a handful of those dogs and i miss themmmmm
#there was this one huge golden named riley whod just lay in the road all day and make cars go around him#he'd find me and my sister and we'd fuck around all day with him#on halloween he'd follow us trick or treating#he was dumb as bricks and completely unbothered by either of our reactive ass gsd mixes we'd invite him in to hang play with them#and when he'd had enough he'd politely wait by the gate to be let out#there was also cocoa he was some kind of aussie mix#he stayed by his house mostly and people watched but he'd always come say hi and walk around this undeveloped lot ppl wore a trail into#he was also good with our reactive dog#there were three? yellow labs that would come around too.#one had giant balls and would walk around with a tennis ball looking for ppl to play fetch with#there was also a younger one i dont remember well and an ancient old girl who just liked being pet#i forgot to mention riley would also find my sister and i in the mornings to wait for the bus with us#when i was in highschool there was a husky for a few days id see in the mornings#he probably just got out on accident lol but he was nice too#i like to think im good at reading dog body language and respecting boundaries but i have zero fear of strange dogs ever#i've only ever been close to being bit once and it was as a mailman#a little pittie jumped a fence from its backyard when i started up to a porch and came right up to me barking and growling#literally on my hand like i felt teeth while it barked it just didnt bite#i just stood there and a few seconds later the owner came out and i very slowly and smoothly handed them their package#as this fucking dog told me to gtfo#that shook me up a bit lol i got very lucky#every other dog i met was lovely though#idk what the point of this post is i just have a soft spot for driveway dogs#do not let ur dog do this though same as outdoor cats
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Katsuki dating obliviously hot reader:
Characters aged up
Kinda smutty
Katsuki doesn’t even really see people in a hot or non hot way but then…. in walks you. The person that has him a blubbering, babbling mess. He thinks it’s insane, how fucking amazing you look all the time and it’s hard to control himself around you.
You’re at a party and you were dancing on him. In the middle of you pretty much dry humping him, Mina pulls you away from him and toward her. The thing is before he can hide it, she looks down at his groin and BAM
“Dude I can see your hard on through your pants.” And all your other friends turn around and start trying to see.
The blonde’s face now has a deep blush but he speak in an even tone. “Yea well yall would be too if someone as hot as Y/N was dancing on you. Too bad you losers get no play.”
He then rips you back outta Mina’s arms and spins you around so your back is to his front yet again. He has his dick placed snuggly against your clothes between your cheeks.
You guys are going out on a date and you’re bloated asf and nothing looks right. You’ve changed outfits like 4 times now and Kats in starvin.
He comes barging in the room and your in long sleeve shirt with a thigh length skirt and some cute shoes. You’re in the mirror adjusting and leaning towards a hell no when you hear him whisper under his breath, “damn”
“Do I look bad? I feel gross. Maybe we can get takeout and just stay here.”
“Gross? You gotta be fucking kiddin me. We are going to go out and I’m gonna be trying my damndest not to beat the shit out of the sea of guys that are gonna be eye fucking you and you’re calling yourself gross. Grab your damn purse and let’s go y/n.”
Well then. Guess you cant argue with that.
You’re at the gym together and you were both doing your own things. You’re on the treadmill when some guy comes up on the one next to you and starts talking.
It seems harmless enough so you engage him for a while until you get a text alert on your phone. When you check Kit Kat is on the screen so you open the message.
Kit Kat: come here.
That’s random so you look up to find where he is in the gym and discover hes near the weights. When you lock eyes with him, you see murder in his eyes.
Aww fuck. He’s pissed. You know your man is territorial, but damn.
You excuse yourself from the conversation you were only half heartedly invested in and walk over to him.
“Look it wasn’t-“ but your words are cut off from his lips pressing against yours and you feel his hand graze over your ass.
You’re glad the gym is half empty cuz damn.
“That idiots been looking at my ass in these tights since you walked in. I’m gonna have to put a fucking taken sticker on your forehead.”, he growled low next to your ear.
“Instead of all that, you can just put a ring on my finger.” You say smugly.
He chuckles at you, “yea that’s probably a better option.”
Katsuki Masterlist
@justbepeace
#imagine#bakugou x reader#mha fanfiction#bakugou drabble#drabble#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo mha#bakugou katsuki#bakugo headcanons#fluff#katsuki bakugou x reader#bnha katsuki#katsuki bakugo#bakugo katsuki#katsuku bakugo smut#katsuki bakugo smut#bakugou katsuki smut#katsuki smut#bakugo smut
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Could you do Dom reader edging and degrading vox because she discovered what he did to sir pentious?(when vox told sir pentious to go kill himself)
Thank you and have An amazing day <3
a/n — I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM. I have mean things to say.
warnings — dom reader, sub vox, reader gets like.. actually cruel, kind of edging, small use of mommy
summary — Vox finally gets a punishment for being the fucking worst to literally everyone (in this case sir pentious)
“Your one terrible piece of shit, you know that Vox?” You ride his dick with an intense overwhelming speed, making Vox cry out below you.
“Wait, fffuck! Slow down, god,” Vox whines and squirms from underneath you.
“Aw, can you not handle it? Can you not handle this one thing?” Your words are fake-sweet and laced with venom, “Y’know there are two words for people like you.”
“Oh come on—“ Vox tugs against the ropes around his hands but is cut off with a yelp when you slam your pussy onto his dick. He moans loudly.
“It’s on the tip of my tongue, ever since you used the phrase so eloquently earlier,” you explain further, once again with the insincere tone. He winces for impact, expecting a harsh blow from your words.
But it’s hard to prepare himself when you’re rocking against his cock so rough.
”Oh that’s right! I know what you are,” You say, kind voice dropping and grimacing down at him, “Vox, you’re a miserable failure.”
He cries loudly at your words, expecting them to only get meaner from here. “I wasn’t even that bad, y/n, wait—“
“Oh you weren’t that bad? What makes you think you can act like that?” He tried to shut his eyes and lean his head back into the pillow but up grab that corner of his screen aggressively, “Look at me when i’m talking to you, slut.”
He obeys glumly, biting his lip to hold back from letting out needy whines. How could you be so put together when you were slamming onto his dick so hard. He remember your words from the beginning of the session, though; ‘be a good boy and don’t cum until I tell you to. Maybe then i’ll be nicer.’
He’d laughed it off at first, but there was nothing but mocking distain in your eyes that shot right to his heart, and to his dick.
“You’re such a pretentious asshole. And you wonder why you’re hated. You make me sick. You think you can treat people like that because you’re so insecure you need constant higher ground? That’s fucking pathetic,” you hiss down at him.
He frowns and whimpers desperately, beginning to glitch out and release a high buzzing noise from his head.
“No, no, no, ‘m not!” He tries to sit up slightly, not only held down by the restraints around his wrists but forced back when you harshly shove his chest into the mattress.
“Whores only speak when they’re told they can. I hate to break it you, but you don’t have the higher ground here. I know just how pathetic, and useless, and desperate for validation you are,” You growl, “It’s fucking embarrassing.”
This makes tears prick in the corner of his eyes and he shakes his head vigorously.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re not denying it are you? Because that would make you useless and a liar. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” He shakes his head and whines loudly, “No? Oh, then you should probably act like less of a brat, you dumb slut.”
Now, the tears finally started falling across his stream and he moans, choking on his own sobs and buffering noises, “Please, i’m sorry. I’m sorry! I’ll be nice I swear. Please stop being so mean I need—“
“I need for you to stop bitching and take what you deserve, just like the bitch you are,” You hump his dick with excruciating rhythm, “And now you’re a crybaby too, and that’s not a good look.”
He gives up trying to defend himself and cries quietly, “I wanna—bzzz—be your good boy. I’ll do anything, mommy, please!”
“Aw, there’s nothing you can do, baby. Nothing you can do when you’re such a shitbag by nature.” You remark cruelly, “Aren’t you a shitbag?”
He nods dumbly and whines, “Mommy, ‘m sorry. ‘m sorry, i’ll be better. Please be nice to me, I can’t—“
This time you don’t have to shut him up because he cuts himself off why buffering and sending a shock up both of your bodies.
“Don’t get carried away now, Vox. We wouldn’t want you hurting anyone else.”
a/n — Anyways and then you had to kiss it better after hours of degrading him because he was still crying after you guys were finished.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#inbox open#hazbin hotel smut#vox x reader#dom reader#vox smut#vox x you#sub vox
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Hot Ghouls in your area ch 5 part 1 of 2
Masterpost
Jason found himself back in the real world (the human world?) in fuckin Star City. Christ. Luckily, his electronics came on line. They weren’t fried, then. He looked up the nearest zeta tube and booked it over there, not eager to get caught in another hero’s city. The worst part would be that Batman would inevitably smooth it out on his behalf and go growl at Queen for having the audacity to try to arrest him. Jason did not need to get bailed out by his asshole Dad, thanks.
He wasn’t worried about Green Arrow and his crew per se, but it would be a shitstorm he didn’t need even if he managed to get out.
Not when he was so laden down with books that he had unfolded both dufflebags stored in his suit, for fuckin sure. Sure, they’d make phenomenal weapons if he swung ‘em around, but the books deserved better than that.
His comm forced itself on as soon as he came through to Gotham.
“You’re back!” Barbie said, breathless. “You’re alive? Right?”
Jason snorted. The street he stepped onto wasn’t fully dark yet. Patrol probably hadn’t started. “I’m alive,” he confirmed. “How long was I gone?”
“About ten hours,” she said.
Oh. Jason pursed his lips. It wasn’t dusk, it was dawn. “Tonight must have been fun,” he said lightly.
She laughed darkly. “You’re about to find out how fun it was.”
He stopped in his tracks. “Hey, no-”
Oracle opened up a line to what was probably every vigilante in Gotham city. “Hood is back and safe,” she announced, gleeful about throwing him to the wolves. “He’s on 2nd and Grim, for anyone who wants to drop by and tell him how much they missed him.”
Jason cursed a blue streak and started off at a dead sprint as he reached for his grappling hook. It was a lot slower than usual since he was swinging two enormous bags of books. …Could he even grapple with these? Goddamn. He’d be over the weight limit. He cursed even harder and put the hook back.
“Heading west,” Oracle said cheerfully, and then clicked off a bare instant before he manually mashed the damn power button on his setup. Nope, nope, nope, he was not dealing with this shit tonight.
He made it about four blocks and was so goddamn close to a safehouse (one of Bruce’s, but he could put it on lockdown) when a wailing blue and black blur emerged from the skies.
“We thought you died,” Nightwing warbled at him. Jesus fucking christ, he had been crying. His face was wet. Jason tried to duck away but he was too laden. He struggled against the hold for a few futile seconds before he went limp.
Dick sniffled into his chest.
“Shut up,” Jason said, shoulders nearly up to his ears. He didn’t need to hear any criticism of how he had handled that cult situation, or any grieving about how this had made people think of the time he got brutally beaten to death.
“I’m not saying anything,” Dick mumbled. He gave one more squeeze before withdrawing. “Huge relief to see you in the-what do you have there?” He dove down into the bags of books before Jason could kick him away. He was already prying the bag open by the time he asked. Jason tried to pull it away but it was impossible to keep Dick’s grabby hands out of your business.
“He went to a library,” Nightwing announced to the comms, outraged. “We thought he was dead and he went to a library!”
Someone laughed loudly on the comms. The brat turned on his comms explicitly to scoff.
“Did you rob a library?” Dick’s voice went high. “There’s so much here!” He flipped things around. “There- these are the same book? Hood, why do you have so many copies of the same book?”
“They’re not the same,” Jason snapped. “Get your grubby hands off of them!” He took his things back and edged away, glowering at his dumb asshole brother. “If you came to gawk, you did it, so now fuck off. You can clearly see that I am fine.”
“Jason,” Batman rasped, like the goddamn creep he was. Jason spun to see that he’d come up from behind. He lurched closer. He looked like hell. His knuckles were bloody and his pulse was jumping in his throat.
“No names in masks,” Jason snapped. He put his hands up to keep Bruce at a distance. “That’s your own rule, old man!”
It was no use. He endured the bullshit while his dumbass Dad made sure he wasn’t dead again, but he drew the line at letting Bruce clutch him and probably sob under his sweaty cowl like a weirdo.
“I should have stayed there,” Jason grumbled. He patted at Bruce’s back. “There, there, asshole. You’re fine.”
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Summoning Game Show Part 7
Masterpost
Okay. This is technically the end of Summoning Game Show! There is room to write more, but that probably won't be coming for a little bit. Thank you to everyone for reading and commenting and sharing. I am so so happy that people liked it and interacted and everything. I had a great time and I hope you like the end.
~~~~~
Red, Nightwing, and Robin soon find themselves in an office/meeting room of sorts. They’re seated on a couch in front of a table.
Danny closes the door behind them. “I would offer you a drink, but I don’t think you could drink it.”
Danny takes a seat on a loveseat across the table from them. He has a small green dog with a spiky collar sitting in his lap and he pets him absentmindedly as he gets settled. Robin is laser focused on the dog.
“What would you guys like to talk about?”
“Who is that?” Robins asks immediately.
“This is Cujo!” Danny smiles down at the Cujo and he wags his tail when he hears his name. “You guys don’t mind him being in here right? He’s mostly well behaved.”
Robins shakes his head. “We don’t mind. Just…”
“Ah, dead animal. Well, animals get ghosts too.” Danny explains. “ Personally, I like to think that Cujo is happy.”
“His collar says Axion Labs.”
Danny nods at Robin, fingers playing with the collar. “ He used to be a guard dog for them.”
“What-” Robin is cuts off as Danny and Cujo start glowing more brightly, Cujo starts growling and his form flickers.
“Never- never- ask a ghost how they died.” The boys all nodded, and Danny and Cujo stabilized as they calmed down. “It’s very rude. Now, to business, why did you want to summon me? ”
“We do a lot of travel, space, dimensions and everything and we just wanted to learn more about this realm. Maybe set up communications, that kind of thing. A learning experience.” Nightwing explains.
“I mean, we clearly don’t know enough considering we didn’t know you could help Hood. Or that he needed help in the first place.” Red mutters the last bit.
Danny eyes them all warily. “Historically, we don’t really do well when people want to learn more about us. What exactly do you need this information for?
“”Just to learn. I told you, I like to know things.” Red said.
“Well, I can’t just give out any information, but if you want to ask me some questions until Hood gets back, I’ll answer what I can.”
“What is this place actually called?” Nightwing asks.
“Oh, it has lots of names, because it’s lots of places. This is the Infinite Realms, home to all afterlives and the dimension between dimensions.”
“Home to all afterlives?” Red is flabbergasted. Red wasn’t sure that he believed in any afterlives, and now there are multiple? “So you’re all dead?”
“No.” They wait a moment but Danny does not elaborate.
“So there are living people here?” Nightwing asks.
“Obviously.”Danny makes a face at them. “Everyone here is living. You need better terminology. Humans are very narrow when it comes to life and death.”
“That’s because usually you’re either dead or alive.” Robin is struggling to comprehend the possibility of an in-between.
“That seems very narrow-minded coming from people who came here with someone both alive and dead.”
“Hood?” Red asks.
“Hood is alive.” Nightwing states.
“And dead!” Danny chirps. “There are many in-betweens, most leaning to one side or the other. Hood leans more towards being alive, but his being alive is dependent on ectoplasm, so he’s at least a little dead. Though the fact that he was able to live with the ectoplasm he has means that he is mostly alive.”
“What is ectoplasm and how did Hood get it?” Red is very curious now.
“Oh, everything. Most of the Infinite Realms is made out of ectoplasm , including most creatures in it. “ Danny puts his hand together and green liquid pools in it. The same green as everything outside.
“So, that’s probably the Lazarus pits.” Red mutters. “ Explains the exposure bit.”
“You have ectoplasm in your dimension?” Danny asks.
The boys nod. “There are a few pools of it around. One guy in particular likes to hoard them to keep from dying.”
Danny frowns.
“That’s a violation. Ectoplasm is poisonous for humans, radioactive.” Danny complains. “And if his ectoplasm is as bad as the ectoplasm in your friend, that is not healthy.”
“It would be, he’s the one who exposed Hood to it in the first place.”
Danny groans. “Alright, I’m going to need a list of all the locations you know of in your dimension, and if you have a way for me to contact whoever is hoarding the ectoplasm that would be great. I’m going to have to take care of that.”
There’s a knock on the door and Danny calls, “Come in!”
Frostbite opens the door for Hood, who comes in without his helmet, but with a mask on. “Guys, this is my new doctor. He’s great.” Hood says.
“Glad you’re doing better!” Danny smiles at them both as Hood takes a seat. Frostbite nods his head, then leaves again, shutting the door behind him. “Frostbite gave you a rundown of what’s to do and what’s going to happen now that you have healthy ectoplasm?”
“Yep, explained all the side effects, but I’m already feeling much better.”
“Wonderful! So If you guys wouldn’t mind just giving me that information so I can follow up on it, I think we’re done here.”Danny stands, putting Cujo on the seat as he vacates it.
“We would like to be able to get in contact with you, if you’re coming to our dimension, that way we can tell the rest of the heroes what you’re up to and everything. Is there any way to communicate between our dimensions?” Red asks.
“Frostbite also said I would need to discuss a way to get fresh ectoplasm from you until I can create my own reliably.” Jason cuts in.
“Well, looks like I have lots of business in your dimension. Do you guys have communicators that you use? Anything from your dimension on you right now?”
They all nod. “Cool, hand me something, two-way, that you don’t mind losing because after I fix it up you won’t be able to contact anyone except for me on it.”
Red hands him a phone, Danny opens it up and messes with the insides before putting it back together. Then he turns it on and calls his Ghost business phone so he would have the number. He hands Red back the phone, picking his own up. “What should I name you guys? Is it always going to be Red on the phone?”
“Probably not.” Red says. “Especially if Hood needs things from you as well. Just put us under Bats.”
“Bats is weird, but whatever you say.” Danny finishes with his phone and smiles up at them. “Thanks for competing! I’ll be in touch.”
#batman#danny phantom#crossover#dcxdp#dpxdc#batfamily#nightwing#red hood#red robin#robin#cujo#frostbite#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#summoning game show#alternate universe#my writing#fanfiction
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I’ve grown to appreciate the aus where Shen Yuan enters the story as “Shen Yuan” - same name, probably similar face, generally able to interact with PIDW as himself and change the story through his added presence. I like the sense of “if only you’d been here, things might have been better the first time around” of it all.
And I was thinking, it’s a funny coincidence in that scenario that someone named Shen Yuan gets put into… another Shen Yuan. What are the chances? What a weird twist of fate that Airplane would pick out the name that his most dedicated critic could slip into seamlessly.
What about a version where it’s not coincidence at all?
Airplane goes to school with a kid named Shen Yuan. He’s prickly and hard to approach and a little intense, but Airplane is persistent. In fairness, Airplane is relentless - and maybe it’s a good thing that they end up being friends, because they’re a little too much for anyone else to handle. They balance each other out. They’re the “weird kids” in class and they’re okay with that, because even when they don’t have any words for it, they know they’re not like their classmates, not really. That’s okay; they don’t want to be.
Recesses and breaks are consumed with the elaborate stories that Airplane wants to tell, and all the holes Shen Yuan pokes into them. It’s not mean-spirited, though, even though Shen Yuan isn’t the kind to temper his words. It’s passionate. He cares about those stories the way Airplane cares about them, and it can’t be mistaken for anything else when they lean together conspiratorially across the lunchroom table. They’ve both got notebooks filled with details and characters and monsters. Shen Yuan’s practically got a whole bestiary sketched out in wobbly childhood attempts at art, entries fervently scrawled beside them. Airplane prattles out plots nonstop, always with the promise of shining eyes and being asked “what happens next?”
They come up with a whole world together. Airplane’s going to write about it someday. Shen Yuan is going to read every word.
Shen Yuan misses school. Shen Yuan starts missing school a lot.
Airplane goes to the hospital room instead. He doesn’t think to worry, because Shen Yuan is okay - that’s what he says. He looks okay, and he’s a kid, and it doesn’t feel real that anything bad should happen to a kid. He doesn’t think to worry. He doesn’t think to say goodbye.
It’s one of the older Shen brothers who catches him on the way up to the room one day, in the hallway just outside - snaps at him to go the fuck home, and when Airplane hesitates, pushes him into the elevator and tells him not to come back. “Tells” is a generous way to describe the way the words come out - a growl, a hiss, the sound an animal would make when a hand got too close to a wound.
(It’s not fair to name a villain after him, even if the name never really comes up in the story. He wasn’t trying to be mean. He’d lost a brother minutes before, and he was getting his brother’s friend out of the way so he didn’t have to… see. It isn’t fair, but then, none of it is fair.)
Death feels very real after that.
The notebooks get shoved into a closet, and it’s not until Airplane’s moving out and one falls on him from a high shelf that he thinks about it again. He’s written things, lots of things, but nothing as ambitious as this - nothing as important. It could be good, he considers. He’d promised. Shen Yuan wanted to read it.
The problem was that no one else does, not for a long time, not until Airplane has whittled himself and his art into a corner and into such an unfamiliar shape that he has to wonder how it’s still his own face he sees in the mirror. He has to eat. He has to pay rent. Shen Yuan would yell at him, but Shen Yuan isn’t there to yell at him, and who cares. Who cares if it could have been better? The people who actually are here love it, and it’s paying his bills, and sometimes stories don’t go the way they’re supposed to and the world is fucking unfair. It doesn’t matter.
(It does. But he shoves that thought away along with styrofoam cups and soda bottles to the bottom of a garbage bag.)
Authors are not gods and their power is limited, but Airplane exercises just a sliver of what he’s been granted and gifts an inconsequential sort of immortality. He thinks about making him a rogue cultivator, maybe the kind that goes around documenting beasts and compiling his findings. He thinks about making him someone too powerful for death to touch, or too important to threaten, but when Airplane looks at the world he crafted and everything that’s become of it, it feels like the kindest thing he can do for Shen Yuan is a childhood where he’s loved, and a death that’s peaceful. What does it say about that world, that he’d kill off his best friend too early again instead of making him live there?
(The best writing he ever does is the only, shining moment of humanity that his scum villain ever displays: a lament about death that comes too early, about a brother gone too soon. The commenters praise him. The commenters flatter over how real the emotions feel. The commenters don’t get any response from Airplane on that chapter.)
Death is incredibly real when it comes for him too early, too, still hovering over his keyboard with the story technically finished and incredibly incomplete. Airplane could tell himself that’s because the written version can never be the version in the writer’s head, always shifting and with every possibility still on the table, but he knows better than that. The System knows better than that, with its condescending message about “improving” his writing and “closing plot holes” and “achieving his original vision”...
…and he’s a child again. He’s a child in his own story, he’s Shang Qinghua now without the benefit yet of a peak or cultivation or anything, and maybe he’s a little bitter, and a little scared, and…
And Shen Yuan - with longer hair, with robes, with a couple of older kids watching him from across the street, but undeniably the prickly little boy who used to sit down imperiously across from him and tell him everything that was wrong with the chuck of writing that had been handed to him last period, but with that smile that said he was only invested because he knew it could be better and they were going to make it better - marches up to him with a fire in his eyes and a frown that warns of a coming tirade.
“You told it wrong,” is the first thing he says.
Shang Qinghua wants to ask how him how he’s here, how this is possible, or maybe laugh because, yeah - yeah, Shen Yuan has no goddamn idea how wrong he got absolutely everything.
(Shang Qinghua wants to say “I missed you” and “why did you leave so soon” but he’s here now. He’s right here.)
“I know,” he says instead. “I’m sorry. It all kind of… spiraled out of control.”
Shen Yuan frowns, but then it dissipates the way it always does, and his eyes shine with ideas the way they always used to. “That’s okay,” he relents, grabbing for his hand. “We’ll fix it. We’ll make it what it was supposed to be.”
#scum villain self saving system#svsss#shang qinghua#shen yuan#airplane shooting towards the sky#this got more into the feelings than i thought it would#surprising no one#anyway just! childhood friends au! as a reason for a shen yuan insert!#obviously he is not going to die as a child in this version#shang qinghua would not have that nope not again#also pls consider poor shen jiu who looks at this child that shen yuan has picked out for a best friend like '...really? that one??'#(it's up to you if he's shen yuan's actual brother from his first life)#(put there's a part of me that likes the idea that shen jiu also gets a second chance to spend more time with his brother)#a second chance for them to grow up together!#THAT SAID#RIP TO SHANG QINGHUA#WHEN SHEN YUAN IS OLD ENOUGH TO LEARN ABOUT ALL THE PAPAPA#the LOOKS shang qinghua is going to get#anyway here have a thing because I CANNOT add another au to my drafts thank you and goodbyyyyye
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Covering the Classics Part 2 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Anna knows her new coworkers want her to meet their friend Bob. But she's too hesitant, afraid to get herself in a situation where she's pining after someone new. During a spur of the moment shopping trip, Bob is delighted to bump into a woman he can only describe as adorable. Too bad he's never been great at the follow through.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+
Length: 3600 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!
By the end of her first week teaching, Anna had learned many things, almost like she was a student herself. That nice, secluded ladies' restroom she found was secluded because one of the toilets regularly overflowed. The coffee in the teacher's lounge was actually disgusting, but the donuts were available every day. And Dr. Pham from the sociology department asked her out three times on Thursday, apparently because she wore her hair in two braids like Princess Anna from Frozen, a mistake she wouldn't be making again.
And she was so tired. She started to lose her voice on Friday morning from how much she had to talk in her lectures. She took the wrong notes to class with her and had to improvise an hour long class on Emily Dickinson, because she was too afraid to give one of her students the keys to her office door. So she sweated it out, but managed to sound somewhat coherent as she dismissed her class at noon.
She pressed her lips together. If she ran to get her sandwich and peanuts really quickly, she could join her new friends by the weird tree. After two days of joining them for lunch, she really liked both of them. She just didn't want to get their hopes up about their friend Bob whom she was supposedly perfect for.
Anna wasn't perfect for anybody. And frankly this Bob guy sounded like a dreamboat, which just made it worse. He'd probably laugh after taking one look at her, and if she opened her mouth and tried to talk to him, he'd run away scared. She already turned down their invitation to go to the Navy hangout bar on Saturday night, citing that she was too exhausted. But it was really because she needed to stand firm with herself and do everything she could to protect her feelings from now on.
After another few seconds of contemplation, she went to her office and got her lunch before heading to the quad. But today it was just Jessica there eating lasagna and garlic bread from a plastic container while Anna's stomach growled in jealousy.
"Hi," she greeted after she chewed up a bite of her perfect looking lunch. "It's just us today. Dr. Rosenthal apparently had a bunch of questions about the math curriculum and took Advanced Calculus out for a long working lunch at Covewood."
Anna had barely been in the city for more than two weeks, but even she had heard of Covewood. "That's a five star restaurant. A romantic date night hot spot."
"Mmhmm," Jessica agreed as she sunk her perfect teeth into the garlic bread.
Anna realized her own experience was fueling her next sentences, but she said them anyway. "Isn't she married? Her husband is okay with that?" she asked softly.
Advanced Physics burst into laughter. "Bradley loves Dr. Rosenthal. He's in his seventies, and he's one of the sweetest people at the school. They have him over for dinner sometimes. He actually did my tenure review."
"Oh," Anna replied, embarrassed that she could hardly relate to someone who trusted their spouse. "That actually sounds really nice."
"Hey, are you sure you don't want to come out tomorrow night? No pressure. I just think you'd have a fun time. The guys are all sweethearts."
Anna looked down at herself and her sad sandwich. She didn't even have money to spare for a beer that she would probably drink half of before she wanted to leave. And it didn't matter if the guys were sweet, she knew her two new friends would be champing at the bit to see how she and this Bob person interacted. "Not this weekend," she replied. "Maybe another night."
Instead of socializing, she spent her Saturday window shopping in North Park. She had a budget of exactly zero dollars, but she could entertain herself for hours this way. She gasped when she found a two story bookshop that claimed it contained new and used and rare finds, and she ran across the street to get to it.
It was darker and quieter inside than the sunlit, traffic filled streets, and when Anna took a deep breath, it reminded her of a cozy library. The clerk behind the register waved instead of speaking, so really, it just kept getting better. When she noticed the wooden sign on the wall informing her that The Classics were upstairs, she made her way up the creaky steps to a loft area with row after row of tall shelves.
"Perfect," she muttered, walking to the end of the open space and turning down the last tight row of bookshelves. She wasn't alone, but the only other occupant was a tall, slim man with broad shoulders and tidy, sandy colored hair. He seemed to be so absorbed by what he was reading, he didn't look up when Anna reached for an enormous copy of Shakespeare plays.
She almost moaned out loud; it was annotated and contained every play she had to teach in her Thursday morning English 300 class. It was well worn, and the cover felt nice in her hands. Shit. Of course it was seventy bucks. That was more than she spent on groceries last week. Maybe she could expense it to the department? She should probably know how to do that. Maybe she could text one of her new friends and ask if that was allowed.
But she slid the book back into place as a Vonnegut she didn't yet own caught her eye. She reached out for it with a steady hand, but as soon as her fingertips met the spine, a much larger hand, complete with graceful yet calloused fingers, wrapped around hers. Everything suddenly smelled clean like soap and also intriguingly like tea leaves. And then she heard a voice next to her ear that made her bite down on her lip as a ripple of pleasure teased her spine.
"Oh. I'm so sorry."
--------------------------
Bob had never been to this store before, and he wasn't really planning on stopping by today, but Mickey dragged him in and then ditched him for the children's section at the back of the store. Bob looked around downstairs, but as a poetry fan, he found that section to be seriously lacking, so he headed up to the loft instead.
He considered himself well-read until he realized how many classic novels he'd never even heard of before. And they all sounded really depressing. Which was kind of the point, he supposed, but if he was going to get something new to read, he was in the mood for a more upbeat story. Maybe a romance or a European adventure he could get lost in. Maybe a sweeping, romantic tale where the nice guy gets the girl for once.
After several tries, he still wasn't finding anything close to what he was hoping for. As he re-shevled The Bell Jar, he decided to just reach for a book at random. Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut? Maybe that would be more his speed. But when he reached for it, his fingers wrapped around a soft hand complete with glossy, burgundy fingernails instead of the actual book. He jumped an inch in the air, because he hadn't even been aware anyone else was in the aisle with him, let alone a woman who smelled like sweet perfume.
"Oh. I'm so sorry," he stammered, already mortified. Then she turned to look at him over her shoulder, and he wanted to jump off the loft railing and run out the shop door. There was only one word to accurately describe her: adorable. She had dark red hair done up in a messy braid, big brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose. "Oh."
"It's okay," she replied softly as she tried to hand him the book. "You can have it."
He shook his head, completely distracted, as he kept finding more things about her face that he liked. A grin curled along his lips as he said, "No, it's all yours. Really. I was just looking for something new to read."
She glanced down at the cover and then back at his face, and maybe he was imagining things, but it looked like she was blushing a bit. "Wow. I wasn't really expecting anyone else to be interested in reading a sarcastic take on global destruction on a sunny Saturday afternoon."
His eyebrows shot up. "Is that what it's about?"
Her laughter was also adorable. "Yeah, I mean... it's Vonnegut," she said with a bit of an eye roll. Oh no. She knew what she was talking about, and he kind of didn't. He was probably about to sound like an idiot.
Bob cleared his throat and pointed at a random spine to buy himself time. "What's this one about?"
She cocked her head slightly to the side and said, "Two murders and a kidnapping."
"Oh," he said with a little laugh. "No thanks. How about this one?"
He wasn't even looking at the books now at all, preferring to watch her facial expression change as she checked another title. "Oh, that one's good. Also about murder."
He chuckled and pointed at another. "This one?"
She smirked and looked up at him. "Jealousy, rage, hatred, and also a lot of murder."
"Wow," Bob replied with what he was sure was a stupid looking smile. "I was hoping for something a little tamer? Perhaps less murder-y? Maybe I should go down and look in the children's section?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and listened to her laugh again.
"I could recommend a few books with little to no murder. Maybe even a happy ending," she told him, and he watched as she pushed her braid over her shoulder.
"I'll believe it when I see it," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. To his shock and amazement, her gaze followed his movement, and her blush returned.
When her tongue darted out between her lips, Bob could feel his heart beating in his temples. Her brown eyes drifted back up to his face, and he wondered if this was how Jake or Bradley used to feel when girls paid attention to them at the bar. It was decidedly really exciting.
He was going to be bold like his friends. He was going to ask her for her number. Maybe he'd see if she wanted to help him shop for some books, and he could buy her that horrible Vonnegut that she wanted, and then he'd ask her very nicely for her number.
"Floyd!"
Bob watched you jump as Mickey's voice echoed through the store.
"Floyd! Let's go!"
"S-Sorry," Bob muttered, stepping past her and heading for the loft railing. "Just... hang on for one second?"
As soon as Mickey looked up and saw him, he said, "We gotta go, man. I got some books for my nephews, but we'll be late to grab a drink before D&D if we don't leave now. You know how she gets when we're late." He was shaking a bag of books and heading for the door.
Bob did know for a fact that Jessica got annoyed when they showed up late because they got hungry or distracted on the way to The Hard Deck. "Just give me a minute," he told Mickey, but he was already outside.
He swiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and turned around to find the aisle empty. Oh no. He checked the next row of shelves, and the next, and the next, until he got all the way to the stairs, but the adorable redhead was nowhere to be found. And he had no idea what her name was.
"Hello?" he called out softly, checking each aisle again until he was back where he started. Bob might have believed that he imagined the whole entire exchange with an attractive woman, except that there was one book propped up against the others right where he and she had been standing.
"A Room With a View by E. M. Forster," he mumbled as he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He glanced around again, but she was well and truly gone, leaving nothing except for what seemed like a book recommendation.
"Floyd!"
Bob sighed and tipped his head back in frustration. "Coming!"
He descended the stairs slowly, head swiveling in every direction, searching for brown eyes and a braid while he held the book. Gone. He paid for A Room With a View and headed outside to find Mickey looking quite annoyed. What he didn't see was the mystery girl watching him from the far end of the loft.
-----------------------
"She was real," Bob insisted as he held his glass of ginger ale a little tighter. "Just because you were too busy yelling doesn't mean I made her up in my mind. She had red hair and brown eyes."
Mickey gave him a skeptical look. "That's actually a really rare combination. And I know for a fact you happen to have an excellent imagination, my friend."
Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Why didn't I ask for her name and number?" Then he paused. "You know what? It doesn't even matter. There's no way she would have agreed to give it to me."
He thought about the book he bought sitting on the front seat of his truck next to his dice bag and character sheet, and he considered just going home for the night. Maybe he could start to read the book. Maybe he'd feel like writing.
Then he felt an arm slip around his waist. "Hi, Jessica," he said as he blushed when he looked down at Jake's petite girlfriend. A second later, Bradley's wife was next to him as well, and Bob realized they were wearing matching smirks.
"Hey, Bob," Jessica replied, giving him a little squeeze. "We were just wondering if you happened to like redheads."
Mickey snickered before he tipped his beer bottle back and finished the drink. "He loves them. Daydreams about them."
Bob shot him a withering look. "She was real."
"Who was real?" Bradley's wife asked as her husband came up behind her and set his chin on her shoulder. Great, now he was going to have a full audience of people informed about his embarrassing afternoon of not even knowing how to ask a woman what her name was.
"There was a cute girl at the bookstore in North Park earlier," he muttered. "She had red hair, and I fumbled the ball."
Bradley chuckled. "You know what your problem is, right? You're too nice. Sugar met me when I was an absolute fuckboy, and she fell hard."
"I've been having a decade long lapse of judgement," she replied, and Bradley kissed her neck. "Don't listen to him, Bob. Girls love nice guys."
But Bob knew they didn't. Even the woman from the bookstore dodged him after approximately five minutes of flirting. If you could even call that flirting. He finished his ginger ale, and said, "We need to go. It's almost time for D&D. I'll drive."
Mickey nodded and said, "I'm ready." He could probably tell Bob had reached his limit with this conversation. His friend may be an extrovert to the extreme, but he was good at recognizing when Bob needed a break.
Jessica nodded as well and patted him on the chest before she pranced off into Jake's open arms. They shared the most adorable looking kisses before Jake straightened out her glasses and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Have her home by midnight, Bob!" he called as he released her.
Bob nodded wishing there was someone besides the elderly woman who lived in the duplex next to him that cared if he was out past midnight or not. Even though he always looked forward to playing Dungeons & Dragons, he kind of wanted to head home and call it an early night. Nothing sounded as good as sending an email to Nat before reading his new book. But he would wait until later, and maybe he would even be in the mood to get his laptop out.
-----------------------
Anna went back to her studio apartment empty handed. Well, that wasn't quite true. She didn't buy any books, but she did splurge on a six dollar bottle of wine which would probably taste disgusting. She just hoped it would help her sleep through the night after reading some sad poetry and eating a piece of toast for dinner.
That guy from the bookstore was going to linger in her mind for a long time whether she wanted him to or not. She was more attracted to him after five minutes in his presence than she was to Kevin at any point in the past five years. And if she was going to start thinking about Kevin, she was probably going to cry.
The toast was good, but the wine was bad. And she did cry a little bit. She was never going to get attached to the idea of being in a relationship ever again. She was never going to have herself that level of intimacy just to have it ripped away. She wouldn't allow it. Relying on herself would have to be enough. Handsome strangers with muscular, veiny arms and cute glasses who made her laugh were not part of the plan. That's why she ducked behind the end cap after she left him a book she thought he might like. She watched him buy it for himself, which left her almost breathless. If she allowed herself to, she could picture him sitting in a coffee shop sipping some tea and reading that book.
"Enough," she whispered, vision a little sloppy from the wine. She opened up the website called PoetsAmongUs, read a bookmarked collection about how good it would feel to be loved completely, and passed out.
The realization that she was going to have to spend all of Sunday afternoon getting ready for the week was made slightly easier by the fact that she only had four hundred square feet of space to clean. And then she thought about the beautiful home she once had in New Jersey, and she had to finish the bottle of wine to help her get through her notes on The Great Gatsby.
She was still thinking about that hot guy with the glasses on Monday when she grabbed a donut from the teacher's lounge. Indulging in a little fantasy here and there about being loved and cared for wouldn't be so bad. And putting his face to it just made it even sexier. When she wasn't teaching, she let her mind wander to some possibilities that would never happen again. Pretty eyes, lean muscles, soft looking hair, pink cheeks. He probably had nice friends, too. He probably never cheated on anything in his life.
"Hey, Anna? Are you alright?"
She looked up from her bag of peanuts and realized she'd been so deep in thought, she wasn't paying attention to the lunch conversation. "I'm sorry," she replied, fighting the urge to groan. She wasn't very good at this stuff and should have probably just eaten lunch in her office like she did the past few days. The fact that it was Wednesday and she was still distracted was concerning to her.
"Don't apologize. You just seem lost in thought," said Jessica as she ate another perfect looking lunch.
"Do you want some chips and hummus? Bradley packed me too much food today," her other friend said. And of course he did, because he sounded like a damn dream.
Anna ate a few chips and sighed. "Have either of you ever had your heart smashed to bits?" She didn't really mean to say that out loud, but now that she had, she was met with an awkward silence that she wanted to run away from.
"Yeah," Advanced Calculus replied softly. "And I did it to myself."
"Not my heart as much as my hopes and dreams," Advanced Physics added. "But for me, I think that was much worse."
Now the silence that followed wasn't quite as painful, but Anna was still a little embarrassed. "Yeah. All of the above." She cleared her throat and tried to think of something else to talk about, but her mind was still on the bookstore. "Hey, why didn't you tell me that San Diego is full of hot guys? They are literally everywhere. I went window shopping in North Park and got sucked into a bookstore, and I bumped into a guy with glasses who smelled so nice."
"Ohhh, what did he look like?"
Anna sighed. "You know how you can just tell a guy is really strong even though he doesn't have bulging muscles?"
"Mmhmm."
"He was like that." Anna bit into her sandwich and chewed it slowly. "Pretty eyes, kind of the color of a lake. Sandy hair. Wire glasses. Soft spoken. He smelled like a cup of tea."
A few seconds later, she was snapped back from her drifting thoughts as Advanced Calculus asked, "Did you say this was at a bookstore in North Park?"
"Yes," Anna replied with a nod.
"Did you get his name?" Advanced Physics asked.
"No," she answered, still embarrassed over the fact that she hid from him.
And then she thought she was going to get whiplash again.
"Was he about six feet tall?"
"Was he slim but not skinny?"
"Did he blush when he smiled?"
"Will you please come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"
--------------------------
Bradley is so proud of the fact that Sugar fell for him when they were in college. Beer Boy just gets better with age. This little Bob and Anna meet cute might spell disaster when they figure it all out! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 3
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#bob floyd x oc#robert bob floyd x oc#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#bob floyd imagine#robert floyd imagine#robert floyd x oc#bob floyd fic#bob floyd fanfiction#robert floyd fic#robert floyd#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#covering the classics
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to be in love (csc)
tags: idol bf!cheol, non-idol!reader, fem!reader, reader is referenced as ‘noona’ and ‘girlfriend’ by svt, 95 line!reader, you surprise cheol (and the rest of svt) during practice one day, svt loves you a lot, you also love them a lot, cheol is more whipped than frosting, not proofread, i'm just going insane don't mind me
no matter how much your boyfriend choi seungcheol told you that his members probably loved you more than him, actions always spoke louder than words. as the leader of the group, seungcheol never held back in spending for the sake of his members. he affectionately called them ‘the kids’ or even sometimes ‘his kids’, and he liked giving out allowance/spending money to them.
but, none of that mattered. at least, not right now.
tonight was one of those nights where they had to stay up learning choreography so they could begin cleaning in the following week. by this time, their head choreography instructors were long gone and it was just the thirteen members in their dance studio. when seungcheol’s phone rang, he was at the other side of the practice studio as he went over the choreography with hoshi, mingyu, and jeonghan.
seeing the display name ‘baby’ on seungcheol’s screen, seungkwan picked up instead. “hello? noona?”
“oh, is this seungkwannie?” your voice asked back, excited. “hi, seungkwan-ah!”
he smiled, greeting you back. “hi noona! seungcheol hyung is going over choreo right now with hoshi hyung, so i picked up instead.”
“really? that’s okay,” you hummed. “i’m down in the lobby. if you or someone else isn't busy, do you mind letting me into the rest of the building?”
seungkwan’s eyes scanned around the room, trying to remember which group came next in the choreography. “i think i can send shua hyung and dokyeom hyung?”
“okay, thank you! make sure you keep it a secret from cheollie. i’ll see you soon, then,” you replied, then ended the call.
soon, joshua and dokyeom were excitedly making their way down to the lobby after telling everyone else they were just “going to the bathroom.” (this made woozi ask why they were going to the bathroom together, but he quickly lost interest just as fast as he asked the question.)
when you saw the elevator doors open, you got up from the couch where you were sitting and gave them both a hug. “hi, shua,” you greeted your friend with a hug. when you pulled away, you were immediately swallowed up in another hug by dokyeom. “did dokyeommie miss noona?”
his cute yes~ made you laugh. you held up two bags of food and two bags of drinks. “help me carry these?” you asked.
the two boys chatted with you as they took all the bags -- because no way would your boyfriend forgive them if they made his girlfriend carry their stuff. they told you that you didn’t need to bring them food, but you could already hear their stomachs growling. you knew your boyfriend like the back of your hand. he was definitely hungry right now, and he would let the boys take a bite of his food before he got started.
when the door opened to the dance studio again, seungcheol, hoshi, mingyu, and jeonghan were still working on the choreo together. but, there concentration was broken as soon as seungcheol heard your laugh. his head whipped around, confused and wondering if he was so delirious from exhaustion that he was now hallucinating your voice. he was pleasantly surprised when he saw you laughing as you pinched vernon’s cheeks as his eyes lit up at the food. (“y/n noona,” he simpered, hearts in his eyes as he grabbed a container labelled ‘bononie’.)
hoshi called for a break, excited to see you too. it seemed like suddenly, a room full of people were swarming you, saying ‘thank you noona’ or ‘thanks y/n’ to you. by the time he got to you, seungkwan was excitedly thanking you for bringing him his favorite iced americano -- even though it was decaf. (you wanted him to be able to sleep!)
seungcheol wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his head into the crook of your head. immediately, one hand reached up to affectionately pat his cheek while the other squeezed his arm around your waist. it was so natural, the way your bodies responded to each other without even needing to talk.
“i missed you,” he mumbled into your skin.
you turned around, your eyes warmly gazing at him. your arms draped around the back of his neck while his own arms snaked around your waist again. (the boys were too busy digging in and talking to each other to mind the both of you flirting in front of them.) “aw, i missed you too, my cheollie. i brought your favorite from the kimbap place you like. there wasn’t anything else open this late, so i just stopped by the GS--” your words were cut off by a bunch of kisses around your face, causing you to burst into a fit of giggles.
“i love you,” he said before he leant in to give you a proper kiss.
before your lips met, jeonghan screamed, “YAH! take that outside. we have food in front of us.”
seungcheol pursed lips and closed his eyes, wondering what he was going to do about his friend. you, on the other hand, were still gracious. “did our jeonghannie get sick watching us?” you asked in a baby voice, making fun of him. “tsk, just enjoy your food.” you stuck your tongue out at him, making him laugh.
while the both of you sat down on the floor with the rest of the members, seungcheol opened his box that was labelled with his name. he even caught the order instructions stapled to the bag, where you asked for extra meat on his and to add a bunch of hearts to his name. god, just when he thought he couldn’t fall in love with you any more than this after being with you for so long!
he admired the way that you talked to the other members, making sure to hand them napkins if you noticed food around their mouths. he admired that you had gotten off a hard day of work and the first thing you did was take care of him and the people he cared about the most after you and his blood family -- his other family, seventeen.
when you first started dating, he was worried about them. he knew what it would be like based on other idols’ stories. you date one, you date the whole group. but, you didn’t mind it one bit. if anything, you were always excited to see the boys and were often more worried about them liking her than she was of liking them. whenever he asked you about it, you would say, “of course i love them. they’re your members.” the way you said it like it was so obvious and that any other answer was ridiculous still made butterflies swarm in his stomach.
feeling more in love by the second, seungcheol pulled you in close, so appreciative he had someone like you in his life. he had never met anything as kind, caring, and genuine as you. he made a mental note to order whatever he had loaded into his cart for you whenever he got home that night. oh, he was going to spoil you so hard. you deserved everything you ever wanted and more.
yeah, he is so in love with you.
#daegutowns#svt fluff#svt romance#svt x reader#svt x y/n#svt x you#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol x y/n#seungcheol x you#choi seungcheol fluff
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Dynamight's type
Izuku has noticed that whenever someone asks Katsuki's certain questions during interviews he gets really irritated; it's usually things about love and relationships that bother him the most.
It's one of the many reasons why Izuku hasn't told his best friend he likes him romantically; maybe Katsuki is not interested in romance at all or he just hates sharing his love life with the world.
Although it's not like Izuku ever thought he had a chance; he probably doesn't. Sometimes he thinks about looking for someone to start a relationship with.
"Let's move in together," Katsuki tells him for the... actually, Izuku has lost count of how many times he has told him that.
But Izuku always thinks he doesn't mean it because it doesn't make sense.
"Why?"
"Just because..." Katsuki says this time, looking particularly frustrated.
"We don't have the need to," Izuku points out, getting a little bit confused by his friend's response.
"I know."
"Kacchan... what if one of us starts dating soon? Wouldn't that be–"
The look Katsuki throws at him is enough to make Izuku shut up immediately; the other pro hero not only looks angry, he also seems hurt.
"Are you seeing someone?" The way Katsuki asks the question makes it look like each word is hurting him somehow.
"No, but–"
"I'm not going to start dating an extra!" Katsuki growls and, as usual, he walks away more irritated than when the day started.
Izuku honestly doesn't get it.
However, he usually goes back to normal when his patrol begins.
Until a reporter finds him after an incident; just right the moment after Katsuki and Izuku manage to save a group of people from a villain.
Actually, there are a couple of reporters, one of them even tries to corner Izuku and instead of asking him about the villain or the civilians, she asks Izuku about romance.
Alright, Izuku has started to get why Katsuki gets irritated at those type of questions.
"Are you dating someone at the moment, Deku?" The young woman asks, smiling at him and using one of her fingers to play with her own hair.
Izuku doesn't understand; is she nervous?
"Uhh... no."
"That's great!"
Not that far from him, one of the reporters is asking about Katsuki's type... again.
"So what would your ideal date be, Deku?" The reporter manages to draw Izuku's attention away from his friend.
"Maybe an amusement park? Sharing a crepe?" The green haired hero doesn't mean to make it sound like a question, but interviews always make him feel flustered.
"That'd be a perfect date for me too!" The girl says. "Would you like to–"
"DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW MY FUCKING TYPE?" Katsuki's loud voice cuts off the reporter who's interviewing Izuku.
"Of course, Dynamight!" It's a good thing most of the reporters are used to Katsuki's explosive personality already.
Instead of answering right away, Katsuki gets closer to Izuku and to everyone's surprise, grabs the other pro hero's freckled face and kisses him on the lips.
"There. That's my type!" Katsuki growls as Izuku's face turns completely pink. "Him. Only this nerd. Now, fuck off!"
The female reporter who was asking Izuku questions looks particularly upset about what happened, although it seems like she's a little bit reluctant to go... but she does anyway when she notices Katsuki is glaring at her.
Izuku doesn't get his hopes up, because it's obvious that Katsuki only wanted them to stop asking questions about his love life.
"But Kacchan... they're going to think we are–"
"Move in with me."
"Why?"
It feels like this is not the moment to have the same conversation all over again, but there's something different in Katsuki's eyes this time; he looks determined.
"Because I'm in love with you, oblivious nerd!"
Izuku's face is on fire, he's sure of it; Katsuki just told him he loved him. It almost seems like it's a dream.
"Are you sure, Kacchan?" His voice doesn't sound shaky at all, which is something Izuku feels ridiculously proud of.
"Of course I am! Wouldn't be asking you if I wasn't!"
After a heartbeat in which Izuku thinks about all the time they've been together and tells himself this is going to work, he nods.
"Let's move in together, Kacchan."
Just a year later, Katsuki proposes to him and of course, Izuku can't help but tear up. He's never been so happy before.
***
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Everyone Loves a 2-for-1 Sale Part 3
Part 1 & 2 (And original Prompt)
The dining room was suspiciously quiet for a Wayne breakfast when Danny walked in.
He glanced up from his phone, pulling one earbud out, “Oh feel free to continue arguing my morality like I’m an object, my music’s on full volume.”
Dick looked uncomfortable, “We weren’t-Look, Ti- Danny, we are just a bit curious as to why you’re…. here,” Dick finished, glancing at the others like asking if they’d share the plate of batguilt-fries with him.
“Surely the world could have done without a second Drake,” Damian cut in before Danny could even start.
“And we could have done without even one of you, yet here you are,” Danny glared, “Factory defects and all.”
Damian jerked upwards with a raised knife, narrowly pushed back down by Dick.
Danny rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his phone-Tim’s phone-their phone. He held a folded paper out to Bruce with two fingers, still typing, “I have a list, if you want it.”
He continued typing as they opening the note and read it, he knew what it said.
To Do in Gotham:
1. Get to Gotham
2. Find original - don’t freak family out
3. -Find- Talk to Bruce
4. Convince Vicki Vale that Tim is/ actually engaged to Tam Fox
5. Get safe house
6. New identity? (what do clones do? - ask Connor)
7.
8.
9. Leave?
“What’s number seven and eight?” Dick asked, and Danny actively made sure his typing pattern didn’t change.
“Don’t know yet,” He answered with a shrug, the picture of nonchalance. Bruce probably didn’t believe him.
Didn’t matter. Dick did. Because Dick felt guilty.
Bat guilty.
About time he believed him about something.
And Danny didn’t care about Damian’s opinions one way or another.
He stepped away from the table, plopping another grape in his mouth as he walked past, “Welp that’s it for me, busy day, fake engagement, gotta find some crutches because I don’t think Vicki will accept my ‘you got new legs Lieutenant Dan-ny’ joke, all that,”
Danny slipped out the door past a sleep-deprived Tim with a jaunty salute, “All’s well in Clone Town!”
Danny kept walking, his brain running miles ahead of him, Ted Tobin steering the wheel with his fingers on the keypad of his phone as he moved forward and mentally filled in the list.
Number 7: Find Ra’s Al Ghul and the Lazarus pits.
Number 8: Stabilize yourself.
Danny continued up the stairs. He had people to see and rings to buy. Busy is the life of a saboteur.
—
Red Robin watched his clone linger in the jeweler’s store, trying to keep the frown from taking over his whole face.
He was making Tim’s life difficult. Tim suspected it was on purpose.
Largely because people would ask way too many questions if two Tim Drakes showed up in Gotham at the same time.
Hence, Red Robin being relegated to rooftop surveillance.
He turned his attention back to the clone, watching as he left the shop and turned down the street. Red Robin swept after him, following from above.
The clone remained focused on his phone- which was also Tim’s by the way, and stolen- as he walked down the street, turning into an alley without even looking up.
Tim tilted his head and swung to the rooftop, peering into the darkness.
“You could always just come down and actually talk to me, you know?”
Tim dropped into the alley, unsurprised to come face to face with the clone. It was weird to see his own face look so annoyed by him.
“Thought it was best to stay out of sight. We’re not exactly a daylight hero.”
Danny rolled his eyes, “Already annoyed with Vicki Vale?”
Tim nearly growled, “That is your fault,”
“Oh come on, you can’t tell me it’s not hilarious.”
“You’ve spent all morning in ring shops! I have meetings!”
“Lucius can handle them. It’s not like we actually did anything this last year anyways.”
Tim stared at him for a second, confusion in the squint of his eyes and laced with suspicion.
Danny groaned with a roll of his eyes, “Fine, you want me to stay put somewhere so you can do your civilian thing?”
“Yes.”
“I am not staying in the manor. You can’t make me.”
Dread filled him as Tim smiled, “Not a problem.”
Danny glared at Tim standing arms wide in the center of the room of his emptiest safe house, “This is so not what I meant and you know it.”
Tim’s face betrayed nothing, “Look, none of us are happy with this situation-“
Danny scoffed. Understatement of the century.
“But..” Tim continued with a pointed look, “It’s my fault, and I get that. So…compromise? You stay here, work on cold cases while I sort out my current job, and when I’m done, we’ll figure out what to do, okay?”
Danny sighed, feeling Ted Tobin stir to life with plans already forming.
“Fine.”
Tim nodded succinctly, reaching for a laptop and multiple cords, “Ok, here’s my old computer, -huh, I could have sworn that had a different charger- anyways- I’ll take this,” he plucks the phone from Danny’s hands in one smooth motion, giving a mocking smile in return to Danny’s glare, “Thank you very much, now I just have to-and find the guy who…”
Tim’s voice tapers off into mumbles as he heads into the bedroom to peel off his suit, fingers focused on the keypad of his newly reacquired phone.
Danny slumps himself down on the secondhand couch, dust echoing around him. This was fine, he could do stuff in the meanwhile, maybe help Tim with his case -or solve it himself, he bets he could- and then finish the new specs for the suit wings that Danny’s suit still didn’t have.
Tim fumbled through the doorway, now in civilian clothes, already on a call with Lucius probably, or Tam. Tam helped him a lot.
Danny slouched further into the silence.
It felt like being left behind by his parents.
They had bigger priorities.
Archaeology.
Ghosts.
Danny shook his head, opening the computer and letting Ted Tobin fish through the passwords for case files.
He’s nearly 3 hours deep when he really pauses for the first time, finally stopping the continuous notes sitting next him, each a different clue. Most for different cases.
The current case pulled up on his screen scratches at him, facts slotting into place with rapid fire precision.
The officer assigned to the case is a vet.
The case is perpetrated by a senatorial candidate.
The officer assigned served on three active fronts and 2 undisclosed.
The guilty candidate is running support for a bill cutting veteran supports.
Best of all?
It’s not in Gotham.
Danny smiles as Ted Tobin’s plan fills in, piece by piece.
—
Ra’s Al Ghul should really make it harder to hack into his confidential back market mercenary dealings.
Then again, maybe it was for the better. How else would he make sure Red Robin was able to intercept the assassin in time to save that poor officer’s life the night before his case-closing arrest?
—
“Detective, I assumed holding my business outside of Gotham would keep it from being the concern of you and yours,” Ra’s’ voice is muffled through the bag over his head, “It seems I was wrong.”
“Oh well, you know me…,” The bag is ripped roughly off his head, leaving him blinking rapidly against the light even as he smirks, “Always butting into things when I shouldn’t. It’s kind of what we do.”
“Tell me, Timothy,” Ra’s says, turning his back to him once more, as he waves his ninjas away, “What does this officer matter to you, more than a state away from your usual stomping grounds? What-“ Ra’s pauses as a different ninja approaches him to whisper in his ear. His body stills.
“Well, we’ll start there. First of all, as I’m sure you just found out, I’m not Timothy,” Danny says, standing up smoothly. He relishes the look Ra’s gives him as he turns around. “And secondly, the officer wasn’t what mattered. Getting you here on the other hand. Now that.. that takes a little more planning.” Danny brushes himself off, removing the cowl to leave just his own domino behind.
Ra’s al Ghul hums, his eyebrow twitching up even as his eyes narrow in suspicion.
“What? No sudden desire to stab? No impromptu attempt to put a sword through my chest?”
“You are curious. So much like the detective, and yet… my people tell me he is currently patrolling in Gotham with the Grayson boy.”
Danny scoffs, “Oh great, another fruit loop interested in me, like I need a new one of those.”
Ra’s’ stare doesn’t change. Albeit a bit more annoyed, but still flat and calm.
“You wanna know what makes me different from Timothy, Ra’s?” Danny pauses, taking a deep breath and letting the ectoplasm ripple inside him for the first time in months. “The difference between me and him,” When he looks up he knows his eyes glow fluorescent green, “Is that I’m stronger.”
—
Bonus Scene:
Dick stared at Tim’s clone as he left, sweeping past the original’s bleary form stumbling to the coffee machine.
“Are we sure he’s Drake’s clone? He seems… less of a fool,” Damian sneered, watching Tim stand listlessly in front of the cabinet, coffeemaker off, and tablet in hand.
He looked out of the Dining room doors, spotting Danny standing not far away in front of one of the closets by the stairs rather than the actual steps, fingers tapping away.
Damian turned back to his breakfast, “I retract my statement. Clearly his stupidity was simply blinding.”
#batman#danny phantom#batfam#dc#danny fenton#batman and robin#danny phantom crossover#young justice#bruce wayne#tim drake#ra’s al ghul#Gotham#dick grayson#Jason Todd#red robin#robin damian#Damian wayne#Damian al ghul#dp x dc#dpxdc#this is part 3#there’s also more reblogs and story offshoots in the original post#go read em!
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Iceberg Siren pt 1
**based on a prompt by @purple-goo-writes about Danny getting a job as a club singer for Penguin- I hope y'all like it!**
Oswald Cobblepot watched as his lounge’s newest acquisition crooned on stage, the crowd transfixed by the young man’s stunning voice. The Penguin was beginning to notice that the Iceberg’s profits went up by twenty percent every night this particular new hire was singing, and he had plans to promote the kid. Daniel Nightingale lived up to his name.
He’d stumbled into the young man in an alley, starving and beaten, and offered him a cleaning job. Daniel had taken him up on it, after his sharp blue eyes searched Oswald’s face like he could see his very soul. One of his bartenders had heard the young man singing while he worked a few weeks in, and soon enough, Daniel was the Iceberg’s crowning glory, even if he didn’t know it himself.
Oswald would make sure the young man knew how valuable he was to the Penguin and never left.
Danny gave a short bow to the crowd after his last song, and they all made noises of disappointment as he slipped off the stage through the door in the back. It had been several months since he’d started singing at the Iceberg, and he was thriving. Penguin had started paying him more for less work- Two nights a week he sang, enchanting the denizens of Gotham’s underworld.
It was probably cheating, that he was using some ghostly tricks picked up from Ember, but it’s not like the GIW existed in this universe to track him down.
“Siren! Boss wants you in the VIP lounge before you take off.”
Matt, his security detail, was waiting for him outside his dressing room.
“Sure! Walk me up?”
Danny winked at Matt, who just rolled his eyes.
“Happily married, Siren. Let’s go.”
With a laugh, Danny turned to head up the back steps to the VIP area, swinging his hips a little to make Matt sigh in exasperation.
He wasn’t truly interested in Matt- nor anyone else he’d met in the dimension, but as he began to be fed on a regular basis and filled out more, he found that people thought he was attractive, and he enjoyed the attention. It was far different from being reviled as a nerd or even as the local menace. The attention of people who wanted him felt easier to control even than the attention he received from the ghosts as their king.
The door to the VIP balcony swung open as he approached, and he was waved through. Plastering a sultry smile on his face, he slunk through the tables, winking at patrons as he made his way to his boss.
The Penguin was sitting in a comfortable chair on a raised dais, across the table from a man Danny hadn’t seen in the Iceberg before. The stranger was wearing a domino mask, and had a streak of white through otherwise black hair.
“Thank you for coming, Siren. Please, sit!”
An attendant melted out of the shadows with a third chair, placed beside the bossman. Danny smiled gratefully at the attendant and settled into the chair.
He wasn’t sure what Penguin wanted- sometimes he called Danny up just to show him off in his glittering dress that clung to his skin, and sometimes he called Danny up to read whether a person was trustworthy or not.
“Siren, Mr. Hood here was suggesting a possible business deal- why don’t you hear him out and tell me what you think?”
Ah, reading. Danny could do that.
“I don’t have time for nonsense, Cobblepot.”
The man’s growl raised goosebumps on Danny’s arms, and he had to take a moment to collect himself. Damned if that wasn’t sexy as hell.
“Oh, but Mister Hood, I’d love to hear about your business proposal! What my employer does with his money affects us too, you know- if the business proposal falls through….” Danny batted his eyelashes at the man. “I’m sure you know what happens to the bottom line.”
Red Hood sighed, and then began to explain himself.
Danny didn’t listen to the actual proposal more than he needed to make the appropriate noises. Instead he listened to the tone and cadence of the crime lord’s voice, the way his body moved as he spoke. Everything screamed sincerity, even the small, half-formed core pulsing in the man.
Wait. Hold up. Turn around, go back. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. A core? Here? In someone so clearly still living?
He would have to investigate, but later. His employer was beginning to look to him for a verdict.
“Wow! That sure does sound interesting,” simpering, Danny stood and wrapped an arm around Penguin’s shoulders. “I think you should hear him out, boss- he seems pretty up-and-up to me!”
Penguin smiled sharply up at him and then waved him away.
Danny could feel the stranger’s eyes on him as he left, swaying back to where Matt was waiting at the door.
~~
Look. Danny didn’t intend to get into this situation on his day off, but things just happened to him that didn’t happen to other people. Sam and Tucker would call it the “Fenton Luck”.
Danny didn’t think luck was involved at all.
If luck had been involved, the weird clown wouldn’t have attacked him with a crowbar. If luck had been involved, Danny wouldn’t have responded like he would with a ghost. If. Luck. Had. Been. Involved, the clown would not have flown back into a brick wall and then slumped like a marionette with it’s strings cut.
Stepping forward, Danny leaned down to check his victim’s pulse, but reeled back when he got a good look at the man’s face.
The Joker’s sightless eyes stared back up at him.
Ancients.
“Whatcha got there, sweet thing?”
Luck had nothing to do with anything in Danny’s life, ever. He was cursed somehow, that had to be it.
“A bagel?”
Harley Quinn hopped off the roof and came to investigate Danny’s dead body.
“Sure looks to me like an ex-boyfriend of mine, and not at all bagel shaped. You didn’t even leave a hole in him!”
“I’m…. Sorry?”
Harley grinned up at him, all teeth and a fierce light in her eyes.
“No need, sugar, you did a good thing. What I wonder is why the gas hasn’t triggered?”
Danny laughed nervously- he couldn’t help it, his fear response was laughter!
“Gas?”
“Mhmm! Had his body rigged, the bastard. Joker gas should have spread for six blocks or more when his vitals stopped.”
“Oh. I- you won’t tell the bats, will you?”
“My lips are sealed! I don’t owe Batsy anything!”
With a sigh, Danny shrugged.
“I’m a meta. Joker gas preys on fear, and so do I. The gas must have triggered, but I’m close enough that I filtered it pretty fast.”
Harley put her hands on her hips.
“Batsy doesn’t like metas much.”
“The Bat can suck it.”
She laughed and slung an arm over his shoulder.
“I like you, kid! Let me call my body disposal squad.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Ten minutes later, Poison Ivy and the Red Hood walked into the alley, looking around cautiously. Harley had talked Danny into braiding her hair, and was chatting amiably at Danny.
“-And that’s why Bill owes me a trip to Cabo. I don’t plan to collect, though, he’s just a henchman. Ives! Thanks for coming!”
Red Hood put his hands on his hips.
“I get why you called her, Harley, but why me?”
Harley tilted her head, pulling her hair out of Danny’s hands carelessly.
“You deserve to see him before he disappears, kid. The whole of Gotham deserves that, but we can’t risk it.”
“See who?”
She pointed at the body, and Red Hood went to inspect it. While he did so, Ivy walked up to Danny, peering down on him.
“I know you.”
“Hi, Dr. Isley.”
“I was right! You work for Oswald. Almost didn’t recognize you without your getup. I take it this was your doing?”
“Yes ma’am, although entirely on accident.”
She laughed, and Danny smiled too.
“One we’re all glad for. Thank you.”
There were stomping footsteps, and Red Hood was suddenly in front of them. Harley stood up from the box she’d been sitting on, shielding Danny with her body.
“You did this?”
Danny the angry pulsing of the Hood’s half-formed core. It felt similar to the way his own core had felt when he was forced away from Amity Park. He slid out from between Harley and Ivy and held out his hand.
Hood took it, whether on purpose or unconsciously.
“Hi. Danny Nightingale. I just avenged thousands by accident. Please don’t kill me.”
The pulsing turned from anger to relief, and the Red Hood laughed. It sounded odd through the modulator in the helmet, but Danny smiled along nonetheless.
#dp x batman#dp x dc#dp x dc fanfic#danny phantom#dead on main#jason todd#harley quinn#poison ivy#Arctic Siren AU
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White Flag
Cassian x Rhys!Sister Reader
Summary - There had never been a moment where you and Cassian had seen eye to eye, despite his attempts to make peace and make a friend of you, it wasn't something that you wanted.
Warnings - angst, swearing, teasing, back and forth banter, mentions of blood
The Day Court had become your home from the moment you had decided that you couldn't bear to be around Cassian any longer. Luckily, Helion was a good friend of yours even if he wasn't overly fond of your brother and his inner circle. and granted you sanctuary before you had even finished asking him the question.
A part of you didn't even know how it had all started, that outlandish flare of dramatic hatred that passed between you whenever you were too close. Maybe he was threatened by your athletic prowess and strength, maybe you despised how often a new female ended up in his bed
Things had come to an abrupt head when you had punched him square in the nose for making a comment about your mood, asking if your cycle was drawing near. Blood gushed from his nostrils and he stuttered back a few steps, cradling the now broken bone and groaning as blood dripped onto the floor.
"Why is he bleeding?" Rhys had enquired after entering the room, sensing the stench of blood through the closed door of his office.
Cassian stood by the sink, bloody rag clasped around the injured affect, "Because he's an idiot," you replied with astounding calmness, feet propped up on the arm of the chair and your fingers flipping idly through the pages of your book.
"I didn't know that idiocy caused people to just start spontaneously bleeding from the nose."
You had hummed, a smirk pulling at your lips when you noticed Cassian's hazel gaze ripping through you, "I think it's a new phenomenon."
Rhys had usually kept out of your spats, like the rest of the inner circle, they knew your sass was not something to play with, it was unfortunate how Cassian skipped over that fact.
Then there were the countless family dinners that were interrupted, and sometimes ruined, by your joint fire.
"You know, Cassian," his ears pricked upward but his eyes narrowed, he'd like to believe that maybe for once you'd say something nice to him, to stop this feud between you, "Remember that one time I said that you were cool?" He nodded, falling victim to another one of your games as the room held a collective breath, Rhys already pinching the bridge of his nose, "I lied."
Cassian growled, slamming his fork down on the table and standing from his seat, the chair skidding along the wood with his brute force, "I can't help imagining how much more awesome the world would be if your dad had just pulled out."
You were smirking, that shit-eating smirk you always wore when you managed to get him to bite, "Please, save your breath, Cassian," you cooed obnoxiously, popping a honey soaked carrot into your mouth, "You'll probably need it to blow up your next date."
Azriel had choked on his wine and you spared him a sidelong glance, convincing yourself that if Cassian's red face turned one shade darker then he'd surely erupt in flames.
Then there were the missions that Rhys had assigned you and Cassian to, he thought forcing you two to work together would put an end to the nonsense that was your tiff. Azriel was the unlucky one who had to accompany you both so that you didn't wind up killing one another.
An ash arrow hurtled past your face, grazing the tip of your pointed ear, you had dodged its full puncture successfully and heaved out a sigh as you took cover behind a nearby tree, "Oh my gosh, did you see that?! I almost just died!"
Cassian had sauntered past you, sword coated in the blood of your enemies, strands of brown hair falling from his bun, and dirt dusting the side of his face, he grinned at you, "Tragic that you didn't."
Azriel audibly groaned, sick of both of you, it had been three full days of trudging around the outskirts of the winter court, he was freezing, Cassian was making his head pound with his constant complaining, and you were certainly catching a cold.
The Shadowsinger had finally had enough when he had heard you and Cassian arguing at the edge of the clearing, the latter had gone to bathe, to wipe away the blood and dirt from his skin, only to turn around and find that his clothes had been plucked from the bank.
"I didn't do it," you told him through laughs as Azriel approached, Cassian was stood in the water up to his impeccable v line, fists clenched and seething through his teeth as his body shivered from the cold.
"Then why are you laughing?!"
You were leaned against the trunk of a tree, clad in your warm clothing that Rhys had insisted you wear, badass or not, you were still his little sister, "Because whoever did it is a freaking genius."
Rhys had had enough of it. Of all of it.
An ultimatum had been delivered to you both, after being pulled into Rhys' office by the scruffs of your necks by Azriel, you had been told that one of you had to move out of the House of Wind permanently. Though, Rhys' plans of keeping you apart had completely backfired when you had stood up and told him that you were leaving the Night Court altogether, the words shaking the room enough that even Cassian felt guilty that your feud had become so severe that you actually wanted to leave your home court.
"And go where?" Rhys had rose, that power pulsating around him like a heartbeat, a drowning effect that made you all feel dizzy as his eyes darkened and jaw clenched.
"The Day Court," you stated like it was already decided, "Helion has offered me a place within his court and I accepted. I leave tonight."
"Over my dead body!" Rhys rumbled, it was deadly enough for even Azriel's shadows to cower behind him whilst Cassian looked at you bewildered.
Ticking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you quipped, "Well, go lay down and die then because I'm not going to be told what to do, especially not by you."
"You are my sister. You are a Princess of the Night Court."
"And I am allowed to make my own decisions regarding my life and future," you looked to Cassian and frowned, your eyes dipped with an emotion he'd never seen in you, "And, right now, my life is not here."
That was how you found yourself within Helion's court, doused in white and gold, with tanned skin from the bright never-ending sun, with your toes dipped in sand and the ocean breeze drifting through your hair.
It had been a year since you had left Velaris, and gods, you missed the City of Starlight so much. The Day Court was wonderful, beautiful in its own incredible way, but it wasn't Velaris, your home.
Helion had found you walking along the sandy shores when you should have been readying yourself for the ball starting in a few hours. Rhys and the entirety of your former family were visiting to celebrate the announcement of Feyre's pregnancy, stopping in every court bar Autumn and Spring to spread the joy, to signal a new age for Prythian after all of the torment they had been subjected to.
"I would have thought you'd be ready by now," Helion noted, watching your cream coloured dress float in the breeze, you held your shoes between your fingers and gazed outward to the ocean.
You hummed, "Part of me isn't looking forward to it," you admitted.
The time you had spent in the Day Court had made you softer, had given you a new perspective. There was much more to love in life than arguing and feuding, and you had spent a little over two weeks trying to figure out why you and Cassian could never seem to get along.
Helion draped an arm over your shoulder, his golden crown shimmering in the sunlight that was usually focused on you, focused on making your skin glitter and smile, "It's been a year since you left, I'm sure they're all looking forward to seeing you."
"Or telling me how much easier their lives have been without me," you laughed sadly, slumping into his side softly as he turned to lead you back up to the palace.
"You're a changed woman now, Y/N. I think that more than anything they'll just be happy to see you thriving."
Fuck.
You were so late. So late that it would be noted as disrespectful no matter how much longer you took. Helion was right, you should have been readying yourself much earlier rather than trailing your toes in the sand.
Helion had gone to great lengths to secure you the most spectacular dress anyone had ever seen. A rich gold garment that snaked tightly around your breasts and curved perfectly over your thighs and ass, no sleeves attached to it, but he had gifted you a set of matching arm cuffs and one for your thigh which was exposed by a high slit, as well as ear cuffs which gave a subtle nod to the Day Courts abilities to hone their gifts of invention.
You were practically running down the halls whilst putting your heels on and clasping your necklace around your neck, taking a sharp left which you knew would lead you to a more secluded entrance where you hoped you could slip in unnoticed.
Sliding through the small opening in the wall, you ducked your way along the length of the room, popping up and smoothing your dress out before reaching for the nearest passing tray of flutes, downing half of the liquid to make it seem like you had been there for longer than you had.
"Very smooth, Y/N," A familiar voice purred with amusement laced in his voice, you turned to find Azriel stood behind you, he looked surprised as he took you in, acknowledging the tanned hue and glow that had possessed your skin, your violet eyes seemed a shade or two lighter than Rhys'.
"Az," you breathed, placing your flute down on the table beside you and throwing yourself into his open arms, you both laughed, and he inhaled your scent, salted summer oceans and velvety rose petals.
Pulling back, you smiled up at him brightly, showing all of your teeth. It was like Day had thrown up on you, though, Azriel couldn't deny that gold most certainly agreed with you. Another force jolted into your side and you lifted your arm to find Mor bundled into your ribs, squeezing you tightly and refusing to let go to the point you had to physically unwind her from you.
"I've missed you so much," her bottom lip wobbled as tears gathered in her eyes, you reached for her, wiping the stray droplets with your thumb.
"You know I'm only like ten minutes away from you, right?"
"Not the point, Y/N," a deep voice drawled, it made you shiver, and before you could even properly move to find the owner, you were already gathered up in his arms, "Hello, little sister."
"Hi, Rhys," your eyes found Feyre stood a few feet away from you, a hand cradling her swelling bump, you moved to her, looking down at that bump, "Congratulations, I'm so happy for you."
Rhys couldn't deny that you seemed different, that you had changed since the night you had left Velaris after your argument, after the ultimatum he had wrongfully forced on you. Feyre had told him that you would be fine, that you deserved to see what life could be outside of Velaris, that you would one day come home to them a different woman than the one who had left.
They all watched as Feyre guided your hands to her stomach and you felt your nephew wriggling around and kicking, "Hey, stop kicking your mama," you had bent down to whisper, "She's been through enough," and the little thing within her halted, settling into a comfortable position and Feyre sighed with relief.
Straightening your posture, you took your flute and took another sip, feeling overwhelmed by all you had missed, "I'll be back in a minute," you told them, Rhys moved to follow after you but Feyre stopped him, she knew how much it must have been for you, she was always the understanding one.
Your usual haven was empty when you had reached it, a white stone balcony at the end of a secluded hallway that looked out onto the lapping waves colliding with the mountain upon which the Day Court Palace lay.
A single tear flowed down your face and you heaved in a breath, trying to control yourself by clutching onto the stone railing. Your hair whipped around your face, and the fire lanterns flickered in the breeze.
"I know that we aren't friends, but if you need me to punch somebody out, you know I can and will," the voice you used to grimace at called to you from a metre or so away.
Spinning on your heels, you saw Cassian before you, illuminated by the moonlight so that you could see his unbound hair and muscular chest that peeked out from his undone shirt, "Thanks, but I'm good," you sniffled softly, grabbing your flute and finishing off the sparkling liquid inside of it before placing it back onto the stone ledge.
Cassian frowned at you, his eyes roamed over your face and figure, smiling in approval at your bright eyes and tan skin, and the masterfully tailored dress and accessories you adorned. There was something soft about you.
"It's good to see you, Cassian. You look happy," the admission tugged sadly at that ball of bliss inside of you, the ball that had been enriched and glowed like starlight.
He approached you, stepping out into the night and understanding why you had blindly led yourself there, he had followed you, noticing how you weren't paying much attention to where you were going and simply allowing your feet to carry you there.
"I could be better," he expressed, taking another step closer to you and finding nothing untoward in your expression, no anger, no distaste, nothing but warmth, "It's weird seeing you not being mad with me."
A gentle laugh pushed through you, it crinkled at the corner of your eyes, "If it means anything, I don't think I was ever really mad at you."
"Yeah?" Cassian coaxed, wanting more of an answer from you.
The lanterns scattered light over the side of your body, the small speck of glitter in your jasmine body oil shimmering softly, "I think I was jealous of you if anything," you had turned away from him and propped your elbows up on the stone platform, staring up at the stars longingly, "You're a true Illyrian and I'm not, not since I lost them," your shoulders rolled, and Cassian saw the faint crescent moon scars ripple at the movement, "I think I saw you as reckless, you were making so many stupid moves that could end up with you being hurt or losing your own wings," you flinched at the thought, "I'm sorry."
"I get it," he told you, mirroring your stance and looking upward at the sky which held nothing on Velaris, "I think I'd be the same if I were in your shoes."
Cassian on some level had always known that you harboured some resentment toward them, for their privilege of not having to worry about having their wings clipped. It had broken them all when it had happened to you, that was the moment you'd turned cold toward him, causing more arguments than anything else.
"This court has changed me, I'm not that person anymore. I hope you know that."
Cassian grabbed your wrist as you moved to walk away, pulling you flush to his chest and tensing as his rough fingers ghosted over your cheek, "I never thought you were that person. I tried to fix it, you know, fix whatever I had done wrong. I was the one who made sure you always had enough strawberries in the house and made Feyre swear to take credit for it. I was the one who made sure your bathroom cabinet was always stocked full of bath oils and healing creams, not Mor. That gift three solstices ago you loved so much, the blanket made from the dresses of Selene and your mother, that was me too, not Az."
"But why? We hate each other?"
"I never hated you, the truth couldn't be more opposite," you could feel his heart beating through the silk of his shirt, through the satin on your dress, he grazed his fingers around the cuffs on your ears, "I love you actually, a lot, and I stupidly thought that if all the words I could get from you were teasing jabs then it would be enough, just to hear your voice."
"You love me?"
Cassian grinned, lowering himself and stopping only millimetres away from your lips, sparks of fire sparking between them, "Always have, Princess," when you didn't move away, he closed that gap between you and allowed the world to explode into a kaleidoscope of colour around your forms, you fisted into his shirts, pulling him closer, and his hands found the small of your back, leaning into you.
Panting, you pulled away, opening your eyes to find his hazel spheres pressing into you, his nose touching your own. You laughed, a laugh that send shivers of joy down his spine, "I can't believe we were in love all this time. I swore I would never become this trope."
Cassian chuckled, a rich a deep thing that made you yearn for him, he kissed you again, with more hunger than you had ever felt, "Who doesn't love a good cliché, my formiddable mate?"
Authors Note
I'm happy now x
#fanfiction#imagine#acotar fanfiction#acotar#acotar imagine#maasverse#rhysand#mor acotar#azriel fic#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#cassian x fem!reader#cassian x you#cassian x reader#cassian#acotar oneshot#rhys acotar#acotar fluff#acotar angst#cassian x y/n#feyre archeron#feyre x rhysand#high lady feyre#helion acotar#helion spell cleaver#high lord helion#acotar fandom
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