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ghouljams · 9 months

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Hang on. May I ask what Hush’s pronouns are ? Because I used she/her in my last ask (I’m still giggling like a school girl because of your answer it was so cute), but in another one I saw your refer to the demon as a « big brother figure », so I’m a bit confused and afraid I made a mistake… ?

To make this ask a little more worthwhile, I somehow imagined demon Price scolding the other demons the same way Captain Price would scold his team when they mess up something or do nonsense ? You know, I’m picturing the frown, the crossed arms, the military stance and the gruff voice. And the team looking at their demons and snickering when seeing how their Captain and his demon are so similar to each other sometimes.

Hush prefers he/him but all the demons will respond to any pronouns, and I will answer asks regardless of pronouns for them. So, no mistakes! I haven't had pronouns specified for anyone but Threat, and Hush hasn't had much written for him!

As for Price(the demon) scolding the rest of the demons, I agree, I think it happens more often than anyone would like to admit. But they also end up scolding the rest of the 141 with Capt. Price since the demons are technically their handler's responsibility. I think in the field it sounds a lot like 2 different comms channels talking through each other lol

"How's the perimeter?" Soap asks, checking out from behind cover.

"Holding," You hum, "Hey do you know what Price is yelling about?" Soap makes a face.

"Which one?" Soap pushes off the wall to sweep the room. You listen for a moment to the demonic yelling, muffling Soap's steps as you do.

"Both of them," You conclude. It sounds like both of them. Your commanding officers both markedly upset over something that you don't really have the patience to parse. You're busy making sure your charge stays alive long enough to make it to the demo point.

"Dunno," Soap says after a moment, you snap your silence around Soap's gun as he fires, no reason to give up position over one unlucky soldier, "Maybe someone did somethin'."

"That doesn't narrow it down. Someone's always done something," You tell him.

"Could be marital problems," Soap jokes. Now that's an idea. One you're happy to jump on.

"Mom and Dad are fighting," You laugh, shaking sound from the shadows to get a feel for who's nearby. Clear for the moment, and your silence is holding strong. Price is still yelling at you of the little connection you've established between yourself and your demonic companions. The human Price sounds like he's reflecting her annoyance over Soap's comms. Two halves of the same conversation neither of you are paying attention to.

"Alright I've got another one," Soap keeps his gun high as he slinks through the empty corridor.

"Hit me." You like this game, Soap's jokes aren't exactly high comedy but they're certainly entertaining.

"What do you call kids in the military?" He sweeps around a corner, and starts down a flight of stairs.

"No clue."

"Infantry-" You snort "-Got that one from Ghost," Soap smiles stopping at the tunnel entrance. Allegedly blowing this point should send the rest of it speeding towards collapse. Something about structural integrity that you weren't listening to. Soap knows what he's doing, you trust him.

He shoulders his bag off and sets it on the ground, quick to start pulling out wires and switches. You're passed a pair of wire strippers as Soap's movements start getting more purposeful. His brow furrows, he stops, leans back to look at what he's already pulled, then goes back to the bag.

"Fuck me," Soap groans digging through his bag, "we forgot the C4." You stare down at the open bag, the yelling from your COs suddenly making a lot more sense.

"Huh." You eloquently sum up. Soap sits back on his heels. He makes a face, looking down the tunnel as he thinks. You're not sure what to do to help, this isn't exactly your area of expertise. Soap drums his fingers against the canvas.

"Where's-" He starts, rethinks, and looks at you, "Where's the sound go when you do your magic stuff?"

"It doesn't go anywhere?" You raise a brow, it's not some crazy magic, more scientific than anything else. Soap stares at you, waiting for an explanation. You sigh. "I stop the sound waves from happening or compress them down enough they're barely audible. It's the same with people, I either compress the parts that move or their air supply, but I'm not physically stealing sound." You explain, "That would be crazy."

"Right that'd be way more mental than what you just said," Soap gives you a sarcastic sort of nod. He looks back at the dead detonators and switches and grabs a handful of wires. "New plan," He tells you, "I'm going to make a noise, you're going to make it bigger."

"Not really how I work," You frown, crouching next to him. He takes the wire strippers from you, already building his noise maker.

"What do you mean? You compress sound one way, I'd bet you can bump it up the other. Just need the waves big enough to cause some damage." Soap frowns twisting two wires together. You don't know, you don't think he's wrong but you've never made sound louder. No one's ever wanted things louder.

You don't have time to run a trial run, but you suppose the pressure of an active combat zone is as good a time as any to experiment. You've done stupider things. You can't think of any right now but you're sure there must be something stupider you've done.

Soap glances at you, for being the king of quiet you don't usually go this long without talking. That's one of the reasons you get along so well, the banter just keeps going. He looks back at his work, if you're quiet he's sure it's for a good reason. Now, he doesn't know for sure that his science is sound, but the fact that you're giving it any consideration is enough for him. It at least buys Soap a little time to try and come up with something else. Maybe he should radio Price, see if his demon can send over some black powder.

"Ok," you tell him just as he gets the sound grenade hooked up, "Let's try it. Sub-sonic, super-sonic, it's all sound right?"

"Close enough," Soap grins. He tosses you a spare switch and watches you click it a few times. The sound stutters, raising and plummeting just as quickly. You wince, click it a few more times with similar results. "If it doesn't work we tell Price and take the lecture," He assures you. If it doesn't work you'll both be fighting your way out with a lot of explaining to do.

"Ready?" He asks, setting the timer on the only idea either of you have come up with. You nod and hold your hands out.

"You might wanna get behind me in case this goes south fast." Soap nods, and tosses the makeshift noise machine into the tunnel. He tries not to think too much about how badly this could all shake out if this doesn't work as he takes cover.

It takes a moment the soft beep of the count down timer fluctuating as you grit your teeth and try to do whatever it is you're doing. You understand this stuff better than Soap, or he fucking hopes you do. Because if you don't you're both fucked. One of the beeps pitches low, but it shakes the dirt. Your eyes widen, your lips moving with silent calculations.

"Hey, uh, might want to plug your ears Mactavish," You suggest over your shoulder. Soap is quick to snap his hands over his ears as the rolling wave of beeps gets bone quaking. The tone bouncing low and growing ever louder, reminding him of the shitty bass in that one tech song Gaz likes.

Everything goes quiet. Then the noise rushes in, explodes from the little beeper like a proper bomb. Buffeting the tunnel in a way that almost looks like the Jerry-rigged switch broke the sound barrier. Soap's never heard anything like it, and honestly he hopes he never has to again. It does the job though, shaking loose anything that could've been called a tunnel until it collapses in on itself. Even with the buffer of his hands there's a ringing in Soap's ears that doesn't bode well. You turn to grin at him, and when you speak it sounds like you're underwater.

But who cares when you grab his face and kiss him. A quick excited thing before you're shaking him by his shoulders. Were you always that warm? Were the callouses on your hands always that soft? Did you always smile so wide?

Your eyes dart towards the stairs and you tug at him to get his gun up. "We have to go!" You yell, near enough to his ear that he can mostly parse it.

"I think you shattered my eardrums," He yells, picking off the first soldier to come down the stairs to investigate. Later, he'll ask about the kiss later. For now you both have a job to do.

#cod x reader #x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john mactavish x you #soap modern warfare #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap x m!reader #soap x you #soap x oc #oc: hush #Soap you're so smart coming up with ways to use your demon's powers #demon!darlings au #I think the demons have some sort of spectral com system #that the 141 doesn't really have access to

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sugalaritae · 1 year

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Do with this what you will. All I ask is that you make me laugh (as usual).

AHHHH HAHA luce!! okay, the only thing i could think of is based off of this vine. so.... enjoy.

au: non!idol genre: crack words: 649 warnings: mention of drinking, hobi is a good cleaner, yoongi too, vmin are chaos demons, seokjin is in love, namjoon is a worried mother, and jungkook has fire. author's notes: this is unedited - i am lazy and i woke up at 5am this morning. please see this post for drabble requests!

The party is slowly quieting down. They’ve all had a bit too much to drink but they’re all doing their part to clean up so that the house isn’t a total mess when they wake up.

Hoseok is cleaning up plastic cups from around the pool. Yoongi is cleaning the kitchen while Taehyung and Jimin whip each other with tea towels they’ve rolled into weapons. Seokjin has gone to kiss his new girlfriend goodbye. Namjoon is folding the chairs back up and trying to stuff them into the ridiculously small bags that they come in (seriously how does anyone get these in the firs time? No, he doesn’t want to think about the first time he tried to put a condom on), and Jungkook is …

Where is Jungkook?

Namjoon has a folded canvas chair between his thighs, small tiny ass bag in hand when he realizes that Jungkook has gone missing. Which, normally wouldn’t be a concern except that Jungkook drank Jägermeister with Taehyung and Jimin and Jag makes Jungkook go a little … what’s the word? … bananas.

The opening of the bag only goes over one of the legs and Namjoon sighs, opening his legs and letting the chair fall to the ground with a hard thud. He looks around and sees the three in the kitchen window (Yoongi looking tired but ignoring the chaos that is happening behind him).

Namjoon watches Yoongi open his mouth and say something that Namjoon can’t hear because in usual Yoongi fashion he’s saying it under his breath, but he thinks he reads Yoongi’s lips to say something like “Yah! If I feel that towel on my skin, I’ll stab you.”

Namjoon chuckles despite himself and continues his search for Yoongi.

Jin rounds the corner of the house, hands in his pockets, and looking a little too happy with himself.

“You seen Jungkook?” he asks and Jin shakes his head.

“No, but I did just receive the kiss of my life. I think I’m going to marry that woman, Namjoon-ah.”

Namjoon smiles and turns away to see Hoseok holding a white trash bag which is already almost full. Fuck they went a little too hard tonight.

“Hobi! Have you seen -“

He stops as he sees a small figure crouched by the fire pit, metal poker in hand.

“Jungkook!” he calls (while also finishing his question to Hoseok).

Jungkook doesn’t look up.

“What’cha got there?”

He watches as Jungkook’s looks into the embers, the last remaining flame a little too weak to light it all up but enough to show the smirk that grows on Jungkook’s face.

Namjoon takes a few steps closer to the fire only to realize that Jungkook doesn’t have a metal poker but a stick. A wooden stick and he has stuck the end right into the flame. Both men (and he thinks Hoseok and Seokjin too) watch the stick’s end light up.

“What do you have, Jungkook?” Seokjin asks from behind Namjoon.

There’s a long silent pause before Jungkook’s eyes go wide and he holds up the stick, a little too close and a little too on fire for Namjoon’s liking.

“FIRE!”

There’s a rush past Namjoon and then suddenly Jungkook is on his feet, running with the fire stick in front of him, Seokjin chasing after him.

“Seokjin, NO!” Namjoon calls out. “Stop!”

Yoongi steps out of the house, towel in his hands, eyes on the ground as he hears shouting in front of him. He sighs, he had just escaped the kitchen because there was too much noise and now there’s more chaos?

He looks up and sees Jungkook holding a burning stick, Seokjin chasing after him in what Yoongi isn’t sure is shouts of joy or concern, and Namjoon standing still trying desperately to wait for a time when he can grab the stick out of Jungkook’s hand.

Yeah Yoongi thinks, I’m going home.

#jungkook drabble #bts drabble #bts fanfic

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musekicker · 1 year

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So this drabble is based off some posts and fics I've seen about Puss wearing eye liner and Kitty maybe being the one to teach him how to apply it in the first place. Those conversations inspired this.

It was looking to be another night camping for Team Friendship. It was not quite dark yet but would be soon. It was Puss's turn to get fire wood while Kitty and Perrito had set up the rest of camp. They had gotten it done so quickly that Kitty had the time to touch up her eye liner.

She sat near the lake that the camp was, looking at her reflection in the water as she worked. The reflection of Perrito joined hers in the water not long into the process.

"I keep meaning to ask, what is that stuff both you and Puss like to put around your eyes?" Perrito asked.

"It's eyeliner." Kitty said. "It makes our eyes stand out more."

"Oh, I see! That's really neat." Perrito said.

Kitty had just finished applying the eye liner when Perrito spoke up again.

"Can I try?" Perrito asked.

Kitty glanced over to Perrito.

"You want to wear eye liner?" Kitty asked.

"Yeah! I want to see what I look like with it on." Perrito said.

Kitty shrugged.

"Sure, why not? Let me put it on though. I don't have much left and it would take practice for you to be able to apply it well to yourself." Kitty said.

Perrito grinned wide and say down as Kitty approached him.

"Sounds good to me."

The application of the eye liner took a bit longer then it had for Kitty. This was mainly because Perrito's tail wagging as hard as it could go made the canvas that was Perrito's face not entirely still.

"You have to hold still if you want me to finish this right." Kitty said.

"Sorry. I'm just really excited to see what it'll look like when you're done." Perrito said.

Kitty continued the application. Eventually she lowered the make up pen.

"There we are. All done." Kitty said.

Just in time. Puss came back to camp, arms full of fire wood for the campfire

"Puss! Puss! ! Come see my new look!" Perrito called out to the orange cat as he ran towards him.

Puss took one look down at Perrito, yelped, and dropped the fire wood.

Yes, Kitty had applied the cat eye look make up as promised. She had also taken the time to make the dog's brow look dark, bit, and slanted down to give him a almost fierce look.

Puss's tail was fluffed up a bit, not full fear but truly startled. His fur quickly went down though when he understood what he was looking at.

"Oh, it is you Perrito. You surprised me a moment." Puss said. "I see Kitty put make up on you."

"Yup! Do I look good?" Perrito asked.

"The word that comes to mind is fierce." Puss said.

Perrito hurried over to the lake then to finally see Kitty's work for himself. He caught sight of his reflection in the lake. It took him a second or two of tilting his head and seeing the reflection copy the movements to understand that yes, that was him.

"She did the same thing to me the first time she showed me how to apply eye liner." Puss said.

The little dog laughed.

"You got me good, Kitty!" Perrito said.

"I thought you would find it amusing." Kitty said, ruffling the fur between Perrito's ears.

She then threw a wicked glance Puss's way.

"Maybe Puss would like to try out the look." Kitty said.

Puss pointed at Kitty, backing away a few steps.

"Do NOT touch my eyebrows!" Puss said.

"No promises." Kitty said.

"I swear Kitty, if I go to sleep and wake up with big, colored in eyebrows-" Puss warned.

Kitty's eyes got big, not quite as big as they did when she truly was trying to be disarming. Then she blinked sweetly.

"Me? Would I do that?" she asked.

"I know for a fact that you would." Puss said, arms crossed and not impressed.

Kitty's eyes went to their normal size and she laughed.

"Come on now, I'm just playing." she said.

Puss did not look like he one hundred percent believed that. But he did not continue talking about the subject, remembering that he had been going to start a camp fire.

"Are you going to mess with his eyebrows tonight?" Perrito asked Kitty once Puss was out of hearing range.

Kitty smiled.

"Not tonight... he'll be expecting it." she said.

#puss in boots the last wish #puss in boots spoilers

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mcleemlis · 1 year

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creativity & organization

I'm finally getting around to giving myself space to write an update. I completed the 90 day probation period in my new job last week (so woohoo to it being more difficult to fire me, not that it was likely to happen anyways, lol)! I have been pretty overwhelmed these last couple of months. Between starting this new job (that has so much more work than my old job did, which is a mixed blessing), moving across town, partaking in a dear friends' wedding (it was the first wedding I ever went to and I was a bridesmaid :D ), and assisting my roommates with their recent transportation issues, I've been SO DAMN TIRED. The surprising thing is that I didn't realize how stressed I was until a couple weeks ago when I had a mini breakdown at work and pretty much realized the sheer amount of things on my plate. Since then I've had some conversations with my team lead and unit director about work stuff, and some of my personal responsibilities have wrapped up or my stress has been mentioned to contributing parties and is beginning to be addressed.

Something that has been a real challenge for me during the past few months, but is really helpful once I get a system set up, is organization. With the new move and the new job, I have been experiencing a lot of disorganization as I adjust to my new spaces, responsibilities, and roles. In the move, we ended up downsizing in a couple of ways. We lost a roommate who recently moved in with her new husband. In losing that roommate I also lost what felt like one of my main support pillars in the house. Lets just say she and I made up the responsible half of the household, so I've lost some of that... guaranteed/instinctual support (maybe that's the way to say it, basically I didn't have to tell her to clean, or do things around the house, or check that she paid bills, etc.). We also went from renting a 4 bedroom house to a 2 bedroom apartment. I personally went from having a bedroom (that I share with my bf) and an office/studio, to just having the shared bedroom and trying to fit my office and art supplies in the living room.

With work, you might say I've upsized. I went from being in a position that was poorly defined and where I had so little to do and so few expectations that I was consistently looking for work to do and things to improve the sad state of the library. Now I work in a position that already had a clearly defined role with a variety of tasks and responsibilities assigned to it, as well as projects in development and underway. So now I have a pretty full plate at work that I'm still analyzing and understanding as I try to figure out what my regular work flow might look like and how I should be prioritizing various responsibilities. I've been juggling more tasks and responsibilities lately, and organization has been key in knowing what all I need to work on. I'd been wanting to have a bullet journal for a while and even bought notebooks and outlined what all I thought I wanted to record in it and looked at different spreads and layouts, but it pretty much stopped there. Between my indecisiveness on layouts and fear of messing up, my physical bullet journal went nowhere. But the idea of a digital bullet journal had sprouted from all of my layout design searches.

So after looking at some templates others had made, I went to Canva and made one of my own. You can check it out at the link at the bottom of this post. I made it over the course of maybe 6 hours over 3 days? It was something I was able to put little bits of time into here and there as I kept it open in one of my browser tabs. The ability to make major and minor adjustments was key to my being able to "complete" the template in that amount of time. I say "complete" because I developed this template as a draft, knowing I would make new templates and adjustments as I figured out what I wanted, what works best for me, and what theme I wanted to go with. So the template I made is only setup for about 3 and half months (from late February to the end of June) and has a fairly basic layout. There are daily and weekly spreads, with monthly calendars and pages for monthly goals, a couple pages for notes, and that's pretty much it. I wanted to make something pretty basic and flexible on the daily pages, to see what I ended up using it for or not using it for, so I could consider adjustments going forward. The short time commitment for this template has also allowed me to learn more about how to use my template in OneNote and ways I might make my next template different to take into account some of OneNote's quirks and features.

All in all, the planner has been helpful in organizing tasks I want to accomplish at work and outside of work, as well as providing reminders and space for some of my hobbies. Now I'm trying to work towards finding better balance between work, supporting others, and doing things for myself. Case in point: my zines. I (laughably) thought I would be done with my manifesto zine awhile ago, but I haven't devoted as much time to it as I thought I would be able to, nor did I accurately predict how long it would take me to do some of the research and to mess with the layout of the zine itself. At this moment I still have 1-2 pages to research and fit into the layout, plus the bibliography. I also have the problem(?) of thinking up lots of ideas for zines but not having (or making??) the time to work on these ideas, despite very much wanting to. Hopefully over the coming months I'll be able to find some balance. With Fall semester being a busy season for my unit, I think I'll be keeping my expectations low for my hobbies then, but I'm hoping this summer I'll be able to indulge in them more!

You can check out my planner here: My first planner

#daily planner #planner #bullet journal #digital planner #digital bujo #canva #diy planner #organization #life #librarians #women artists

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monocaelia · 3 years

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royalty au headcanons

what they would be in a royalty au and the sweet moments shared with them.

feat. albedo, childe, diluc, kaeya, venti

genre : fluff, slight angst in childe's

❀ albedo

albedo is the royally appointed painter of your family. he's in charge of painting all of the portraits of the royal family, which is well deserved. the blond artist's brush strokes and painting techniques make all of his works of art feel so alive, almost as if they could walk out of the canvas they were painted on and live amongst the people.

he prides in his works, always making sure each square inch of each painting absolutely perfect before presenting it to the royal family. even if they were already perfect to begin with. but, as they say, you're your own worst critic.

from since you were both young, he was hired by your family to teach you the basics of the arts as well as how to properly hold a brush.

so, you could say albedo has watched you grow from a grubby child to the elegant and refined person you grew up to be. an honor, really, to watch the stars in your eyes grow brighter and brighter with each passing year.

"ah, you've messed up the brush stroke here," albedo's gentle voice points out the mistake in your technique. your ears burn from having your mistakes pointed out, but you know it's for the best. you clear your throat and try to fix it, only to have albedo sigh from beside you.

"like this, your highness." before you can even react, you feel the heat from albedo's chest radiating against your back and your hand is encased in his own. he guides your hand with his, making the brush you're holding glide smoothly across the canvas.

his hand is cold, you think to yourself, and you wonder if he's been maintaining his health properly. but in contrast to his hand, his breath is warm against your ear as he talks you through the painting technique.

it's hard to focus when you're feeling overstimulated from the proximity of the blond painter and the rather domestic position you're in; almost as if your entire body is being embraced by the artist you grew up with.

"understand, your highness?" his quiet voice breaks your thoughts. he's close to you... so close. you gulp, praying to the archons above that albedo couldn't feel your hands shaking from this entire exchange.

"i thought you were supposed to call me by my name when we're alone together, albedo," you stutter out shakily. it's then that albedo realizes the position the two of you are in. his teal eyes widen slightly in surprise and his ears begin to burn a light pink. the artist pulls away, muttering a small apology to you.

though, albedo has to admit that having you in his arms, albeit for painting, felt so nice. from the position he was in, albedo could have counted the thousands of stars that your eyes held; and he would do anything to see them again.

❀ childe

ajax became a knight of your kingdom from a young age. he was always bored from the day to day schedule of his familial job; he wanted more and nothing could satiate the need to do something, anything that could give him the exhilaration that he needed.

which being in the knights provided for him. from learning how to properly wield a sword, to sparring with the best knights in your kingdom, to being a master at any and all weapons in your artillery, the ginger haired knight loved every second. he always felt alive when wielding his weapon, always grinning ear to ear when he's sparring for fun.

despite being a terrifying machine of war, ajax would never betray your family, let alone you. he swore an oath to protect everyone in the kingdom when he joined the knights, and that included you. the one who has watched him since he was a clumsy knight in training, fixed up his injuries, and wiped his tears away when he was frustrated with himself.

the call of ajax's name alerts him of your presence along with the quick pads of your shoes against the pavement. said male turns to look at you, smile big and bright on his face. "your highness! fancy seeing you here so late. did you miss me that mu-"

"is it true?" you interrupt him. your furrowed brows and frown etched onto your features contrast against the bright expression on the knight's. ajax's smile falters a bit when you stop in front of him, holding your arm and biting your lip in concern. "is it true that you're going to fight in the war?"

ajax blinks, stunned at your question. but he laughs lowly, not helping you in your concerned state. "of course, why wouldn't i? i made an oath to protect you, your family, and the people. it's my duty to go to the front lines."

his cerulean eyes stare into your own. you take a breath, hesitating on what to say or do next. ajax assumes you're going to scold him for throwing himself into the pits of danger, assumes that you're going to yell at him because when he fights he fights with no care to his own body. he would power on through the fight until he physically wasn't capable anymore.

"would you stay with me if i asked you to?"

your question surprises the ginger knight. out of all things that you could have done or said, he wasn't expecting this.

his finger strokes your cheek, sliding forward until your jaw rests in the palm of his hand. ajax gives you a smile, endearing yet bittersweet. he wants to stay here with you, to see your annoyed expression when he ends up hurting himself again or the huge smile on your face when he does something dumb.

but duty calls. and you know that.

his heart falls when you sigh and pull away from his touch. but it flutters again when he feels something hard press into the palm of his hand, your own covering his.

"then, promise me you won't die out there, ajax. take this lucky charm of mine and stay safe. i'll miss you."

you plant a quick kiss on his freckled cheek and run off before he could see you cry. unfolding his hands, he's greeted with the delicate, red mask you've placed in his hands.

❀ diluc

being the heir to the throne of your own family makes it hard to miss the prince of the neighboring kingdom. prince diluc is a stoic and hard to please person. every time you've seen him in passing at royal balls, he has always had a frown or blank expression on his face.

but, despite what his outer expression and appearance shows, the young prince is a kind and gentle individual. at least to you. in contrast to how stoic he is with others, his warmth is always welcoming and comforting to you. if he's being honest, you're one of the few people, if not the only person, who has witnessed the genuine yet small smile of prince diluc.

when he has the time off, he writes letters to you, often complaining about how useless the knights and how he would rather work alone. but he never fails to indulge you about the little things that have happened since the last time he has spoken to you. how he misses seeing you and that the next time you visit he would take you to a beautiful meadow he passed by on one of his scouts around mondstadt.

you, his only friend who sees the young prince as who he is, and not what the rumors, nor what his title says he is.

"thought i'd see you out here." diluc's ears perk at the familiar cadence of your voice. his eyes that held the warmth of fire flit up to look at you, and his breath is taken away. underneath the gentle glow of the moon, you're practically glowing in front of him. with rich, beautiful silks covering your body and a comforting smile quirking your lips up.

"what are you doing out here? it's cold out here, and the party's inside, [name]," he scolds you. diluc's expression deadpans when you stick your tongue out the corner of your mouth and shrug. when a cold breeze flows through and you physically shiver, the red haired prince sighs and slides off his coat, throwing it over your shoulders.

"i could say the same to you. besides, i saw you out here looking lonely and like a fool, so i thought it would be nice to join you. so you don't look so pathetic." it takes everything in the young prince to not take his jacket back from you and march back inside the palace with the intolerable guests. "i'm kidding! but not about the lonely part. are you alright?"

the playful glint in your eyes disappears in that moment, captivating diluc yet again. he could never outright tell you this, but your eyes are the most beautiful he has ever seen. filled with actual starlight and twinkling with fondness for the awkward prince.

"yeah, just a bit overwhelmed with the guests inside."

you hum in response to him. "well. why don't i keep you company then? from one royal to another. we don't have to say anything, but having someone with you is comforting, right?" ruby eyes widen when you step forward and grab onto his hands, intertwining them. he hopes his cheeks aren't as red as they feel and that you can't see his blush despite the proximity.

"r-right. as long as it's just you, [name]."

maybe the young prince will find the courage to be more forward with you, ask to court you with a bouquet if your favorite flowers and a love letter slipped in between the petals. but for now, he finds solace in your company and your gentle hand laced with his.

❀ kaeya

the origins of how kaeya ended up in your kingdom's calvary is an enigma. no one is quite sure where he had come from, nor had any idea who he trained under considering he was an exceptional equestrian and sword fighting on horseback came so easy to him. every time anyone asked him about his background or history, the blue haired knight would always brush it off and redirect the conversation to something else.

despite having a mysterious background, kaeya still ended up captain of your calvary not too long after he joined your kingdom. though, anyone could have expected it considering he easily outwitted the previous calvary captain in their own sparring sessions.

during his time there, you can't admit that kaeya hasn't caught your eye. he's handsome; his laughter and taunts while sparring with the other knights sends butterflies to your stomach. charismatic and always lightly teasing you whenever you drop by the knight's hall made it difficult to suppress the rhythmic thrum of your heart.

"oh come on, your highness. don't tell me you're getting cold feet now." the smirk on kaeya's face only grows when you send him a glare. he finds it amusing that you're still trying to stand your ground despite your evident fear of the horse in front of you. "i thought you knew how to mount a horse."

the calvary captain snickers when you tell him that you are going to, that you're just not familiar with his horse. his sapphire eye follows your movements and form a crescent when his horse turns her head to look at you.

as you try and muster out an explanation on why you were startled, kaeya takes this time to slide his hands underneath your arms and hoists you up above the horse. your leg slips over the saddle of the pure white mare and you yelp in surprise at the sudden motion.

before you can yell at kaeya for not warning you, the calvary captain climbs onto the saddle behind you. because of the limited space on his horse, the blue haired knight's chest is pressed against your back and his arms encase you so that he could properly hold onto the reins.

"cat got your tongue, your highness? there's no need to be so scared, i won't let you fall. well, unless you're being more unpleasant than usual. don't blame me if you end up on the floor."

laughter surrounds you when you yell at the calvary captain to 'stop messing around.' he can't help it; kaeya loves riling you up and hearing his name slip from your lips regardless of if it's in between fits of giggles or out of anger when he teases you one too many times.

from the position you're in, you aren't able to witness the endearing look that adorns kaeya's visage when you calm down and lean into his touch as soon as his mare starts moving.

❀ venti

there's nothing that suits venti more than being associated with music in some way, shape, or form. he's a well known musician around your kingdom; knowing at least the basics of every instrument known to man and having every song he has ever heard by memory.

rumors around your kingdom flutter around, saying that hearing a song sung by venti himself could cure almost any disease because of how angelic and healing his voice is. of course, it's not true but the young bard likes to play along with it. anything to get free drinks at the local bar, right?

there's no surprise that your family hired the bard to become your piano tutor. but cheeky smiles, poetic songs regarding the beauty of nature, and lyrical poetry of the beauty you hold make it hard for you to not fall for the playful virtuoso.

a delicate melody drifts down the halls of the castle, elegant staccato piano cords resonate in each other's harmony. your fingers deftly glide over the ivory keys, eyes closed and letting your memory guide you through the piece.

beside you, venti plays your counterpart with a gentle smile on his face. a contrast to the beautiful, yet complicated composition that was being performed.

it was his idea to learn this rather tedious piano duet; you thought it was too difficult because of the complicated melodic line and technical harmonies. you recall many nights filled with frustrated tears and crumpled silk from trying to perfect the melody given to you; and venti's gentle voice as he consoled you during those nights and urged you to rest.

before you know it, the piano duet ends with a final statement of the tonic harmony. silence settles into the room as the final chord resonates in the empty concert hall, only to be broken when you shout victoriously.

"your highness, that was a wonderful performance!" venti congratulates you with a proud smile on his lips. the percussive beat in his chest accelerates when you beam at him, the candlelight making your eyes gleam as if they held the entire universe in them.

"it's all thanks to you, venti! oh gosh, i'm so proud of us i could almost kiss you!" the statement leaves your mouth without thinking and leaves the both of you stunned. one, two, three beats of silence and on the fourth you begin to stutter out an apology with a flustered expression on your face.

venti's airy, light laugh fills your ears and echoes against the vast walls of the concert hall. you want to dig yourself in a hole and hide for the rest of your life.

"and what if i take you up on that offer, your highness? or should i call you [name] now? a kiss ending this performance of ours would be way better than a bow, don't you think?"

#albedo headcanons #albedo x reader #childe x reader #childe headcanons #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia headcanons #diluc x reader #diluc headcanons #kaeya x reader #kaeya headcanons #venti x reader #venti headcanons #didi writes #genshin #genshin impact

420 notes · View notes

eternally-writing · 3 years

Text

hot in here | jjk

genre: smut

rating: R (18+ ONLY, minors dni!!)

pairing: Jungkook x reader

word count: 2k

warnings: fingering, unprotected sex (practice safe sex!), creampie, dirty talk, kinda public sex, the reader is a brat for 0.5 seconds, kinda dom!jk, light spanking, sex in a hot tub, use of hot tub water jets sexually

synopsis: A night in the hot tub with Jungkook gets steamy, to say the least.

banner by me!

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

You and Jungkook had been teasing each other all day long. First it was your bathing suit strap magically falling off your shoulder while you were tanning in the morning sun. Then it was Jungkook doing some new strength training workout that looked very suggestive and required too much endurance that he just had to take his shirt off. It fleeted into suggestive lingering touches here and there, and it was no secret that by now your body was basically on fire, begging to be touched by Jungkook.

It was your friend group’s yearly trip to Seokjin’s beachside summer home and given that it was the first time you and Jungkook would be attending as a couple, he had promised that he would make this trip “memorable”, whatever that meant. Little did you know, you were about to find out.

—♡—

“We’re heading in for the night, have fun you two.”

With Jimin and Taehyung heading out of the hot tub, it left you and Jungkook some very precious and warranted alone time. The way that moonlight was shining down on you two seem to be beckoning you two closer to each other, but the sexual tension that had built up between the two of you over the day seemed to keep either of you from making the first move.

“Are you wet for me, kitten?” Whispered Jungkook from across the hot tub.

The obvious answer to that question was yes (you’d been wet since Jungkook first peeled off his shirt when he went for an outdoor run in the morning), but you felt like being a brat today.

“Of course I’m wet Kook, we’re in a hot tub,” you said sarcastically, lifting your arms out of the water to show the water dripping off of you, your expression basically saying duh to him.

Smirking, Jungkook rose from his position across from you in the hot tub and walked over. Looking at Jungkook’s figure towering over you, you were waiting for him to touch you. The way that his gaze bore into you made it feel as though you were already naked.

Instead, Jungkook pressed his knee in between yours, pushing your legs apart until his knee was flush against your clothed pussy. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped your lips. He could feel your core pulsing against his knee, demonstrating your excitement at the situation.

Jungkook leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I’ll ask you again baby. Are you wet for me?”

Desperate to be touched, you couldn’t keep neglecting your needs any longer and began to nod your head feverishly, giving into exactly what Jungkook wanted.

The minute your head nodded up and down, Jungkook pounced on you. Grabbing your chin in his hold, he smashed his lips against yours, itching to feel you close to him. As your lips moved in perfect synchrony, you could feel exactly how excited Jungkook was, as his cock was hard as a rock against your body.

Kissing his way down your neck, Jungkook made sure to savor every inch of exposed skin. The steam coming from the hot tub rose to create a delicate sheen on your body, making you look like a goddess who emerged from the sea. Jungkook took his time as he pressed hickeys into your neck, wanting to make sure that you knew that you were truly his. In that moment, Jungkook was an artist, and you were the most beautiful canvas he had ever painted on.

Without alerting you, Jungkook managed to sneak one hand under the water to cup your sex, replacing where his knee had been just minutes earlier. You gasped in response, and couldn’t help but slightly grind against his palm.

Jungkook chuckled at the sight.

“So needy babygirl. My baby will fuck herself on anything won’t she?”

You whimpered, overcome with need and a desire for anything to help you reach your orgasm. Jungkook made sure to make eye contact with you, and asked one more time. You even verbalized your response, essentially moaning out how desperate you were to get off and how you do anything to get there.

Quickly taking control, Jungkook pulled you up to standing in the hot tub, turning you around so your back was flush against his chest. He took his broad palms and used them to spread your legs open again.

“Ready baby?” He whispered with his mouth perched by your ear, just far enough that you were left yearning for the feeling of his breath on you.

What happened next seemed to happen in a blur, and before you knew it the jets in the hot tub turned on, and one was firing right onto your clit. (You would find out the next day that in true Jungkook fashion, he spent 20 minutes earlier that day trying to figure out the most sexy way he could turn on the jets).

You instantly became a moaning mess in your boyfriend’s arms, and you were eternally grateful that he was there to hold you up as your legs turned to putty beneath you.

“Ah -, oh fuckkkk”

Jungkook pressed a kiss under your ear and held you tighter against him. You could now feel his cock pressing into you, and the friction you were receiving on both sides was making you lose control. He took one hand to undo your bikini top, allowing your breasts to be exposed to the environment and also giving Jungkook full access to groping them. He rolled your nipples in his fingers, pinching them ever so slightly now and then to make you squirm.

“Do you like this baby? You look so fucked out right now and I love it .”

And he was right, if an innocent bystander (or more likely, your friends) even saw you like this, they would see you as a red-faced, panting, moaning mess in Jungkook’s hold. Even without Jungkook even laying a finger on your pussy, you were completely submissive to him and his ministrations.

You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, and Jungkook could feel it too. He moved his attention away from your nipples and instead brought a hand to your pussy, giving it a slap that had you quaking in his hold. He then inserted a finger into you, making sure the water was still hitting your clit and providing you extraordinary levels of pleasure.

“Cum for me babe, cum all over my fingers.”

Like a genie granting wishes, at Jungkook’s command you felt your orgasm overtake you. You felt your body tingle in Jungkook’s hold as he let you ride out your high on his fingers.

“Do you want my fat cock to destroy you, don’t you babygirl? Is that why you’ve been teasing me all day?”

Pressing a finger to your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm, you moaned in response. Even though you were still recovering from your orgasm, you wanted to feel your boyfriend inside you - knowing his cock was rock hard and probably leaking in his shorts mere inches from you made you want to moan instantly.

“Please kook,” you panted, “w-, ah, want your cock.” You grasped at his swim shorts while your brain was still clouded with your post-orgasm haze, hoping to reach his cock.

As you saw him reach to pull his cock out of his shorts, you bent over, ready for Jungkook to thrust his cock into you. However instead you felt him flip you over, pulling you so you are chest to chest.

In a moment of softness, Jungkook took one hand to caress your face, treasuring the way you looked at him.

He whispered, as if he was worried someone could possibly overhear you over the sound of the bubbles - he spoke as if he wanted this moment to be shared just for the two of you.

“Needed to see you while I destroyed that pussy. Look at me baby.”

Taking one hand to run the length of Jungkook’s toned body, taking in the way he shined under the moonlight. You couldn’t help but gasp as you saw the look in his eyes - they were filled with passion, desire, hunger, and so much more.

The moment the tip of Jungkook’s cock entered you, you both shared a collective gasp. Despite the numerous times that you and Jungkook had fucked, there was always something special about the way it felt to have him buried into you. He slid into you at a torturously slow rate, wanting to make sure you could feel every inch of his dick enter you. You could hear his breath hitch in his throat at every inch, and you were mirroring his actions.

Jungkook wanted you even closer to you, and hoisted you off the hot tub seat into his hold, making sure your chests were flush against each other. You couldn’t help but press a passionate kiss to his lips, wanting to savour this intimate moment.

Without hesitation Jungkook began to drill himself into you, pounding into you at a relentless pace. Overcome with pleasure, you barely could keep your head up and instead laid it in the crook of Jungkook’s neck. Your moans were so loud that you were sure the neighbors could probably hear, but Jungkook was fucking into you so well that your brain felt foggy.

“F-feels so good Kook. Sooooo good,” you moaned out to him. Unconsciously, you clenched around him, eliciting a sinful groan from your boyfriend.

“You feel so good around my baby, clenching around my cock so well like the good girl you are.” He lightly bit your earlobe, increasing your pleasure.

He punctuated his words with every thrust as he continued to whisper dirty, sinful, sweet nothings in your ear. “My good fucking girl. Mmmm. So fucking sexy.”

For the second time that night, you felt the knot in your stomach tighten at your climax approaching.

Jungkook did not let up on his face, pounding into you while grabbing a fistful of your ass in his hands. He could tell you were close too and he wanted to help you reach your orgasm.

“Are you gonna come for me babygirl?”

You couldn’t make any coherent noises and instead nodded your head. Without faltering, Jungkook scooped you up into another kiss and snuck a hand down to your clit again.

“That’s it sweetheart, cum for me.”

The way your pussy clenched around Jungkook’s cock when you came had Jungkook losing his mind, and with a few deep thrusts, he buried himself deep into you as he released his load inside you. Despite being surrounded by hot water, you could feel the warmth of Jungkook’s cum in your body.

He always liked to take his time before he pulled out, just wanting to savor the glorious post-sex feeling that he always had with you. He gently stroked the hair out of your face, cupping your face gently as he pressed a sweet kiss on your forehead. Making sure you were steadily placed on the seating of the hot tub before letting go, Jungkook slowly pulled out (eliciting a groan from both of you in response at the loss of sensation) and took his spot beside you in the hot tub.

As you both came down from your highs, breathless and rosy-cheeked, Jungkook took a glance at the now cloudy water in the hot tub and chuckled.

“So… who’s gonna be the one to tell Jin that his hot tub water is now mixed with cum?”

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

If you enjoyed what you read please interact/follow! Thanks for reading ♡ - Emily

827 notes · View notes

banqdanfnfic · 3 years

Text

which, as they kiss, consume | jjk

you just wanted to get a tattoo from your boyfriend

pairing: tattoo artist!jk x reader

genre: established relationships au, tattoo artist au, smut

word count: 4k

warnings: unprotected sex, biting, making out, grinding, licking, nipple play, jk has a lip ring, oral (f receiving), fingering, shy jk and oc, sexual tension, slight choking, slight aftercare

♫ : Streets by Doja Cat, Candy by Doja Cat

♡ Aesthetics: Playlist | Moodboard

He visibly chokes on his glass of beer as he almost snaps his neck to meet your gaze. He could say that you were awfully drunk and hence the sudden confession out of the blue, but behind your heavy lidded eyes, Jungkook could sense that you were serious.

“You what?”, he gulps abruptly, moving closer to your face, doe eyes pleading to repeat yourself.

“Yes Kook. I want that tattoo on my breasts. I’ve decided”.

It’s not that Jungkook didn’t have experience in his career with inking on different parts of a human body. He just had never given a tattoo to someone who is romantically associated with him and the thought of seeing you half naked made him chuck down the rest of his drink in one go.

The most physical he had ever gotten with you was a kiss shared occasionally since it’s only been over two weeks you had started dating. Okay maybe you made out once in his car but that’s it. It never got to the point of shedding clothes or anything intense.

“Are you sure?”

You giggle at the sudden hoarseness in his voice and nod positive. Ironic how his aura never matched his personality. His inked skin, athletic body proportions covered in black monochrome bad boy outfits gave out default energy that he is a local heartthrob with multiple chicks wrapped around his finger each night and a heavy demeanor to carry in his smirk.

You were one of those believers until Jungkook asked you out in the most hopeless romantic way possible after constantly visiting the café you work in, a few shops besides his parlor. He was a gentleman with respectful boundaries, warm hands to hold yours and sweet sensual kisses though you are pretty sure he probably has a good game.

For any outsider it looked like those cliché bad boy and shy girl love stories, but for real both of you were a good percentage of introverts.

Jungkook runs his tongue around his lip ring while he is stressfully ruffling his dark locks into a mess. He is trying to explain his reasons to postpone your decision considering how shy he got at this point. But then that’s exactly why you were requesting him with soft eyes, it would be so uncomfortable to be shirtless in front of anybody else. Or maybe it’s your way of saying the relationship is open for higher levels of physical affection.

After debating around in vain, he finally hums and clears one of his slots for his beloved client.

Friday approaches way quicker than you assumed and now your heart is beating in your throat. Right after you are done cleaning the tables, you have to make it to Jungkook’s parlor for your appointment.

Running on three hours of sleep, black under eyes even after a decent amount of makeup, you groan as you check yourself out in the mirror. You opted for a simple shirt and skirt (also known as the outfit you bought for occasions with Jungkook), light beach waves resting on your shoulders. Hoping that a few cups of coffee will save you, you stride across the street to stop before the infamous parlor he worked in. Hopefully the full body shave and chocolate body butter has kept its excellence on your skin below the clothing.

The door chimes as it opens with a dragged creak on the musky wooden flooring. It felt like an otherworld where air smelled like men’s perfume and faint tint of cigarettes. In other words, intoxicating.

You ask the first person you meet at the reception, one of Jungkook’s companions at the shop and he assists you to his cabin located at a comfortably remote location.

His space is hidden with a simple black curtain. You are met with Jungkook’s back facing you, working determinately on a client’s arm and cares to spare a glance only when the guy with you is informing him about your presence.

“This will be over in a few”, he grins to your face and goes back to focusing his coil on the skin of a woman in her late twenties laying down his chair. The vibration from his inking machine fills in the silence and you excuse yourself to sit on a small black couch beside them.

This was the first time watching him at work and now you can understand why people rumored so much about his attitude because damn it is intimidating.

Brows knit together and inked muscles flex as he drags the needles around for finishing touches. Meanwhile you can pretty much smell the drool from the woman who is shamelessly checking out your boyfriend. Though you are pretty sure Jungkook gets such glances more than he can count every day, you can’t help but feel jealous. Partly because of the childish possessiveness and partly because you want to be the reason behind his dark eyes and intricate concentration, in profession or not.

To stop from mentally throwing daggers on the client’s way, you grab a random fashion magazine from the side table and flip through pages, though other four senses are inclined on your man. With a close attention to his low sigh you conclude that he is done.

The customer with now a fresh tattoo on her arm is discussing random useless topics to get him to talk, a very vain job realizing how Jungkook doesn’t bat a friendly lash at anybody, especially to those who hit on him. To be honest a large part of the ink business was linked with the obsession to attractive people who worked here, even if it meant trading an area of your skin. You grip the edges of the magazine a bit hard, not able to contain the sanity particularly at the high pitch voice she mumbles in before finally leaving his cabin.

A little excited and a lot nervous, you stand up as Jungkook bids goodbye to the third person.

He is quick to notice your discomfort, though not sure if it was the woman or the thought of finally getting the tattoo, he knew you were nervous and surviving in several cups of espresso by the dark circles slowly showing through the faded layers of your concealer. But nothing pulls down the opinion he has about you, beautiful and simple, no dramatics attached.

“Hey are you okay?”

You nod as soon as you sit down on the black tattoo chair, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. He is taking out a box full of equipment and fine needles, already making you break a sweat at the side of your forehead.

But more than that, it’s the way he is sharp and professional that catches your attention more.

You have never seen Jungkook this serious before. The choice of his vetiver perfume digging through your nostrils was driving you insane. If he doesn’t smile soon, you are going to melt into a puddle at his gaze.

“Are you nervous?”, he smirks this time, a newfound reason for your worsening gut health.

It’s mostly going in cycles at this point. Every bit of his skilled motion causes a vigorous hormonal reaction which initiates his next set of effortless teasing.

“I’m a little nervous”, you say, fiddling with your freshly painted nude nails.

“Me too”

It’s something you least expect to come out of his mouth observing how confident he looks right now. He basically has you cornered with his gaze. But whenever he had been truthful about his emotions it felt like a hug.

“I can take off my shirt too, so that we are even. Is that okay?”

He said it so softly like he is handling a child and the duality of the situation had your mind fogged and limbs frozen for a few minutes.

“Yeah it’s okay” It’s far beyond than okay. It’s great actually.

Jeon Jungkook is ripped, a Greek God sculptured masterpiece covered in self designed artwork you are more than happy to wake up to every morning. He hears you gulp at the feast before your eyes while he discards his black t-shirt to a nearby chair.

Now you don’t know if this whole thing is supposed to warm your heart or make you play several erotic fantasies like a movie before your eyes.

Both of you share a small smile while his long fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.

He almost wishes you don’t opt to wear a bra but he is met with lacy black, a-bit-over your-usual-budget fabric hugging the roundness of your breasts.

It seemed like you were way too competitive about today. Anything less than complete awe from Jungkook for you was straight disappointment, you don't want anything less.

Well it seems like it did from how blown his pupils were at this point. He peels his gaze off your chest with a sharp gulp to look at your eyes suddenly devoid of any fear and staring back at him with all ease. He is filled with an exapnse of warmth and he isn't sure why does spending just a little amount of time with you had such a grip on him. He can’t wait to propose the idea of getting a couple tattoo together soon and as far as you know how Jungkook is, he is very serious with his body art so apparently he does trust you a lot already.

“Where exactly are you trying to get it?”, his voice is a lot deeper suddenly as he waits for your fingers to guide to his canvas.

You softly trace the spot at the upper circumference of your right boob, “Here”.

You suck a breath through your nose as his own fingers are mimicking your gesture, lightly pulling down the lace to inspect the fitting of the design at hand.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Jungkook traces each word on your burning skin, now leaning dangerously close which was questioning your control to put your palms flat on his pecs. He doesn’t notice that though, his mind is busy creating his own fantasies about the women under him.

After two minutes and twenty four second long of inspection and mutual thirst, Jungkook is selecting a bunch of needles to set into the rotary machine. Five fine sharp like a painter's brush moves in and out at a set regularity as Jungkook tests it out.

The next of his actions had you flushed into a pool of crimson. He gently lifts up your resting torso with one hand while the other is unclasping the hook of your bra, making you half naked for the sake of the tattoo.

"I'm going to start", he says shyly.

You still have time to save yourself from the growing phobia for the object, but another unlogical part of your brain says it's a piece of cake considering you have a whole distracting full course meal in front of you.

It stings at first. Well, okay it hurts like hell but your face is devoid of any indication, except your right hand is gripping on the rim of the chair for dear life.

Jungkook on the other hand had never felt this much diversion of mind during his work. He knows that you are probably hurting very badly, especially for a first timer. He is biting into his lip ring, trying to get this over with for the well-being of your pain and his hormones.

After he had scribed one word into your dermis, you are no longer able to contain the ache so you give out a small squeak out of your glossed lips and the vibration of the machine at his hands stops as he looks at you.

"You want me to stop? ", he is relaxing his face as he cups yours with one hand. You don't want to answer that question, but the drumroll of the current situation is making your heart flutter and everything about the little burn on your chest is forgotten.

"No. It does hurt but I'll be fine I guess", you whisper. His breath is mixing with yours slowly as he is leaning more towards your face. If it isn't for a kiss then you are likely to be disappointed.

"It'll be over before you know it. I'll make it quick", and then he kisses you, a small act to get off the pressure of sexual tension between your bare upper bodies.

Before you think of any tongue in the act, he is breaking off the contact and returns to his position on your chest. He misses the pout that forms on your mouth but right now both of your heads are in cloud nine.

The pain starts again, only this time you are busy reliving how his lips felt in yours; soft, firm and controlled.

You gasp when you feel one of his hands cupping your right breast to further his design but it's lowkey an act empowered by lust which is straining behind the so called professional eyes.

You just sit there flustered out of your mind and then Jungkook is suddenly squeezing, full palm hiding your breasts like it's a protected treasure, but he isn't showing the slightest facial expression other than determined eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Fuck you can't take it anymore. Jungkook can feel your nipples harden against his hand and his brain isn't helping much to concentrate on the design. But by the grace of some positive karma left on his side, he makes it through the long text and when he is letting go of your chest and standing tall, your skin is popping out with redness on the places the text lays embedded.

He fishes out a mirror for you to look.

"It looks beautiful thank you Jungkook", you smile.

"Can I give you one more tattoo on your left one?", he asks while you are contemplating whether going through the pain is worth it, not to mention you really want to get back at a private space with Jungkook as soon as possible.

"It won't hurt I promise", and then he is kissing you a lot filthier than before; all tongue and teeth, while his hands are grazing on the skin of your waist, pressing a little firmer than before.

The coldness of his lip ring rivaled around your mouth, and you try sucking on it to which Jungkook responds with a growl and pushes his body adamantly against yours.

Skin to skin, you are lost in euphoria of everything happening and finally, you roam your eager hands around his body, to his pecs and the definition of abs.

As your fingers scraped against his scalp, Jungkook is biting eagerly down your jawline to your collarbone and continues his ministrations at a particular spot which is bringing out melodic moan variation from you.

He is going down your skin, licking on your left boob before he starts planting violet tattoos as he had promised. As if it couldn't get better, he is massaging the right breast, in a way to soothe pain.

He loses it when you stutter his name, but he is just a fucking tease when it comes to making love and doing anything in a public space is the last thing he wants to do. There isn't much room for all that he wants right now.

"Why did you choose this particular tattoo Y/n?", he rasps while he is planting small pecks on his artwork, and you reply when he is finally eye level with you

"I just felt like it's a good one", your breaths are uneven and mostly caught in your neck. He pecks your lips before speaking, "Those are lines from Romeo and Juliet".

He takes your hands to trace over a line of text among the many designs on his chest.

which, as they kiss, consume

"We pretty much have a couple tattoo now Y/n", his breath is matched with your pace and you are not very sure how to respond to this new knowledge.

"That's… hot"

You break into giggles along with him, he just can't stop dragging his lips around your skin, but he isn't able to word his feelings right now either.

"I have some aftercare healing ointment for the tattoo at my place, wanna come over?" Now that may be a little lame of an excuse to get his little friend out of his pants but you are too unfazed to analyse any of that.

His hands find place on your ass under the skirt as soon as the door to his apartment closes, and before you know it, you are in his bedroom, sitting on the soft mattress and tongue lost devouring each other.

While eagerly getting rid of every article of clothing, Jungkook notices that you don't have your bra on beneath the shirt, so it's probably back at the parlour, but none of you have the slightest care for it, might as well make an excuse with it later to fuck you in his cabin.

He is pushing you farther towards the headboard, him on top, grinding sensenslesy while your lips mould with his. Though he has his whole body pressed against you, you can't seem to feel his weight at the slightest, every one of his actions were just balanced and perfect.

As Jungkook goes down on you, his smile is evident against your skin, finally able to find out how every one of those scenarios in his head will come to look like. He lets out a satisfied hum being finally able to suck on your tits, your fingers finding place on his hair, twisting it out of stimulation.

His pelvis is flushed harshly against yours, grinding and rubbing against your pussy for as long as he is rejoicing the feeling of moving his tongue around both the nipples.

He stops rubbing after some point and you whimper at the loss but his fingers are soon to meet your core as a quick apology. All your later moans are muffled on his mouth once again.

Feeling the controlled movements of his fingers on your clit, you dig your nails down on his toned shoulders. It's becoming impossible to reciprocate his lewd movements of tongue on your lips at this point as the excitement between your thighs is growing every passing second.

Your mouth remains slightly parted as he removes his face to watch you squirm underneath, lips swollen, deep red and glossy from all the saliva.

He pecks at the shell of your ear before going down past your navel.

You haven't had much heads in the twenty years of your life, most of the guys being completely against the idea which made you feel insecure to bring up the topic in bed, but Jungkook does it like his life depends on it.

He growls at the sight of you dripping into his sheets and he seems to enjoy the idea of being the influence behind it. But none is going through your head at the moment, not the metal on his lips grazing against your folds, or the fact that Jungkook is grinning each time you cry his name, it feels unreal to feel something like this.

His mouth is wrapping against your entrance and he is balancing your lower body on his palms to help him reach the right depths inside you. While all you can muster up is the strength to grope the bedsheets in your fist and close your eyes at the pleasure.

Jungkook brings his head higher to give some attention to the throbbing clit, catching it between his teeth and triggering the bundle of nerves just the perfect dose to have your hips jolting up to his face.

He can't take it himself when you are now whining and chasing for your release, so he is slightly humping against the bed to get some friction.

He licks a slow stripe up till your abdomen and slowly raises to your face, already fucked out and dishevelled to keep up with his dominant orbs.

He swears he had never felt so much warmth and care for sex with any of his previous partners, in relationship or not, all he could think is how good can he treat the pleading eyes underneath him.

"Is there something you like that you want me to do?", he says, fingers grazing once again to your crotch to not deny you from his contact. Only this time he is exploring the tightness of your pretty cunt with two skillful fingers.

Is there? You are not sure. Or in other words you are too caught up at the sense of him fingering you. It's not like you had enough experience or people who cared enough to ask that question. It astounds you that never in this entire foreplay he asked for any favor for himself.

"I'm not sure…", you whisper and then maybe you have something on your mind " um I guess I would like to be choked" Okay this felt embarrassing.

He smiles before sliding his free hand from your lips to your neck, and applies slight force, careful to not hurt you in the slightest bit.

"Is that fine?"

"Yeah", you muffle through the decreasing course of air.

He pulls up your face by the throat to attach lips once more. He just can't seem to get enough of kissing you senseless. Then, the tip of his long ignored cock is teasing the length of your pussy twice before it's stretching you out to the brim.

Bodies flushed and hot, his pace is deep and slow, making sure to kiss the cervix every time he is inside.

He watches as your eyes close shut and flutters around whenever he is grazing against your sweet spot. Both of your ears lost and eager for the moans looming out of each other, his more like what he sounds at the gym. Nice observation Y/n.

In this span of sexual energy you shared, you can make some obvious conclusions. Sex with him was surreal, both in terms of domination and the care he had. Rocking against him and keeping up with his hips was attainable— Compared to the intense eye contact he tries to hold, or the way he cups the side of your face and rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheeks while he kisses you during sinking back in, or the way his eyes glow at the beauty of your body open for him. It makes you feel special and it's difficult to respond to these gestures when you never felt this way before.

Jungkook could tell that from your face, but he hopes he lasts with you enough to help you know the worth you hold. You couldn't think too much about anything when you are busy squeezing around his length and coming twice in the first ten minutes.

By the third orgasm Jungkook is nearing his own and he pulls out to pump a few times before coming on your stomach.

"Was it okay?", his voice is all over the place, still balancing his body on his arms while you are amazed by his strength.

"It was amazing Jungkook", you smile. You have known a lot about Jungkook over the few dates you spent with him. That he likes literature, classics and philosophy, designs tattoos as a subconscious thing, that his game is A-1, and he likes working out almost three hours a day. Good for you. But it wasn't until now you know him to be gentle, like he is afraid to crush you under a feather touch. You don't know him as someone who is staring deep into your face after a good fuck, speaks nothing, smiles widely, and plants a peck on your forehead before getting off the bed.

He does the honors of cleaning both of your bodies with a towel, it's not like you have any strength left in you anyway. And then pulls out an ointment from the bedside table and plops next to your body.

"There. You need this to protect the tattoo", he takes off the nozzle and applies a required amount against the words on your chest and massages against them.

"Now go to sleep Juliet", he mocks, pulling up the sheets over you both "good night".

You snuggle against his hard chest, kissing his pecs before resting on it, "Good night Romeo".

thank you so much for reading!! please leave a feedback!!

★ taglist: @pjmochii (dm, ask or comment to enter the tl!)

★ credits: @/rainbeary on spotify : songs that'll make you feel everything's in slow motion playlist

★ banner & boards: by me :)

a/n: this is my first time writing smut and i basically died of second hand embarrassment during the process. pardon for my untalented ass, i tried this wip continuously for a week and i seriously don't think it could get anything better though it's probably not much.

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jadequeen88 · 3 years

Text

Smart Girls Make Fast Learners

NSFW 18+ ONLY. MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

My contribution to the BNHarem’s monthly collab. The theme was SEx work. ⛓This piece is a first real deep dive into darker themes and was actually really, really exciting to write. 🖤 A massive thanks to my dear friend @libiraki for beta reading this.

TW: yandere behavior, toxic relationship, degradation, non-con, dub-con, degradation/praise kinks, mind break, oral (M and F receiving), over stim, loss of virginity, mentions of physical violence.

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone this type of relationship. This is a work of fiction and if this happens IRL please get out of the relationship!

There is a very specific type of dread that occurs when you discover that the person you built your world around has been lying to you. Tamaki Amajiki was experiencing this brand of betrayal for the first time in his twenty-one years on a rainy Tuesday in October in the dim lighting of your dorm room. His grip tightened around the open laptop as he stared at glimpses of flesh in the thumbnails of the many, many videos posted to the site. Previous live streams with thousands of views. He gulped down the bile in his throat as he scrolled through the videos. His shock and disgust morphed into a pure rage as he counted up the live streams that you’d had since first kissing him. 12. There had been twelve. Three times a week for the past four weeks.

Those big doe eyes that looked into his eyes as you tentatively licked the tip of his cock for the first time… mere hours later they were rolling in the back of your head as you got off for strangers on the internet. He couldn’t take it. You were his first… everything… he knew that you hadn’t been innocent in your past. The way your tongue expertly wound around his when you first kissed him amongst your plush pillows and goose-down comforter reminded him of the fact. The low violet LED lighting of your bedroom made him feel like the two of you were in your own ethereal world. He could forgive you for not waiting for him as he’d waited for you.

For the past four years, he kept to the shadows. He was there when the football player from freshman year cheated on you with one of your terrible friends (and when it happened the second, third, fourth time). He was there to binge your favorite shows with you (“*insert current guy you were fucking* just doesn’t get it, he’s not into it. I’m so glad I’ve got you to watch it with!”) He bit back the heartache that would wash over him when you’d pet him and coo over him… you didn’t see him as a man. He wanted to bend you over and prove he could fuck your brains out. He KNOWS he’d be perfect for you. But he never rejected the attention. He smiled and accepted whatever crumbs fell from your table. Whether it be helping you study or letting you complain about your shitty friends or your shitty jock boyfriends or your shitty parents… He gave and gave and gave… until that one day, 35 days ago to be exact, a shift in the tide occurred.

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“So why don’t you have a girlfriend, Tama-kun?”

“Wh-wha?”

Tamaki dropped the pencil he’d been using and before he could bend to get it himself, your hand was on his thigh and he was putty in your grasp. You giggled and cooed over him like you always did, but this time you did it while assaulting his mouth and neck with your skilled tongue. This time, for the first time, you made Tamaki feel like a man. Like YOUR man.

⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸

Over the next few weeks, Tamaki had become quite skilled in pleasing a woman. It only took a little guidance to have him sucking at your clit with just the right amount of pressure. He learned on his own how to couple that with his long, delicate fingers twisting and pumping in and out of your slick hole. You’d cling to his silky hair, pulling him closer as a constant stream of praise tumbled from your lips:

“No one has ever made me feel this good.”

“Your fingers are perfect Tama-kun”.

“I love your mouth on me so much, baby.”

The first time you came on his face, Tamaki knew there was a god because he’d found heaven between your thighs.

But that was gone now… ripped away with one mouse click on the night he was going to finally give you his virginity. He had held on to it like it was a treasure. A treasure he’d present to you one day wrapped up in life-long devotion and worship... But Tamaki wasn’t in heaven anymore. He wasn’t going to worship you tonight. For the first time since laying eyes on you, Tamaki wanted to hurt you.

⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸

You turned the shower off and dried yourself. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. You felt like this was going to be the first time giving your body to someone. Tonight was a redo. You were wiping the slate clean. Your first time would no longer be underneath the football captain in the passenger seat of his truck, left feeling sore and unsatisfied. It was going to be with the guy you should have noticed long ago. It would be soft and slow… passionate and filled with sweet words and caresses… limbs tangled in soft sheets that smell like lavender and vanilla.

You applied your lotion and moisturized your face. The red lace adorning your body was arranged perfectly, accentuating the soft swell of your hips and chest. With one last glance in the mirror and adjustment of your bra, you opened the door to the cool air of your dorm room…

...And saw Tamaki looking murderous.

His eyes slowly left the screen to meet your gaze. His tear-stained face had never looked this harsh. His normally sweet eyes were narrowed and red from crying. The sweet lips you’d licked and sucked with such tenderness were hard and cold as they pulled upward in a grimace.

The only thing he said before rising from the bed and setting aside your laptop was your camgirl username. Then he was on you before you could draw a breath to explain.

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Tamaki always thought he liked you best on top of him showering him with kisses and threading your fingers through his hair, but he had to admit… having your arms tied to a bed frame with the silky sash of your bathrobe cutting into your skin was doing things to him. When you sniffled, face stained with tears and snot, his dick twitched in his boxers. The whines you were choking back behind the silky red panties stuffed down your throat sent chills up his spine. You had to learn the hard way not to spit them out after a harsh slap echoed against your skin when you fought back the first time.

Tamaki stood back to survey the mess of skin, spit, and tears for a moment. You were a blank canvas for him to mark up with his rage and lust. You tried to hide away your bare pussy by clenching your thighs together. It only spurred him on.

“Do you have any clue what you’ve done?” he hovered over you, sleek muscles rippling over your own soft body, “I waited, and waited, and WAITED,” he bit down on the side of your exposed neck and you screamed behind the silky gag, trying your best not to expel it from your mouth and receive more punishment.

“I want to give you everything, Y/N,” he licks over the bite, almost apologetically, “I don’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want it to happen like this… FUCK, why?! Why did you ruin this?” his long fingers dug into your cheeks as he forced you to meet his fiery gaze. You couldn’t help whimpering and sniffling back more clear runny snot. You were so humiliated at how disheveled and disgusting you must look. His head ducked into the soft spot between your neck and shoulder and you felt him sob.

Despite the abuse he’d inflicted upon you in the last ten minutes, you nuzzled your cheek into the top of his head in an attempt to comfort him. And he let you… he hated himself for it and he hated you for making this all so hard for him.

“No… no, no, no,” he rose from the bed to set up your ring-light and laptop, ice running through your veins at the sight. Your mind couldn’t accept what was about to happen.

“I’m... I’m not letting you get away with this,” he shook his head and pulled at his hair as he finished setting everything up, “If you’re insisting on being a slut, you’ll be MY slut. And everyone will know…” he jerked your ankle to force you flat on your back.

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Maybe if he’d let the gag out of your mouth, you’d be able to tell him this was just a job to you. That it was clinical… that he was the only one who had ever been able to get you off, that his face was the only one you’d come on… that you needed the money since your parents had disowned you…

But you only laid there, accepting whatever he was going to dish out. You knew he was hurt. You weren’t stupid. You overlooked him while knowing how he felt about you. It took years of horrible one-night stands and countless frat parties pretending that whatever guy you’d picked that night was interesting for you to come to your senses. You hated yourself for being so blind for so long… You adored Tamaki, truly. And you hated yourself for all the times you’d hurt him… so you swallowed your fear and tried to prepare yourself for whatever came next.

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Any soft parts of Tamaki that you’d grown to love were gone, hardened by heartache and desperation. After angling the laptop to get the perfect shot, he started the live stream countdown. Subscribers started trickling in, commenting on how this was a pleasant surprise since it wasn’t one of your regularly scheduled streams. You shut your eyes to pretend this wasn’t real.

Without fanfare or warning, Tamaki ripped apart your thighs, exposing your bare slit. A raw shrill was pulled from your lungs, your back arching from the sting of an abrupt slap. Neurons fired off in your brain… were you in pain? Was it pleasure?

“Since my girlfriend likes to keep secrets from me, I can’t trust what comes out of her whore mouth,” he emphasized his point by stuffing his fingers past your lips, pushing the soaked silk further into your throat, “So she’s going to keep this gag right here until I can fuck the truth out of her,” he trailed his fingers along your reddened folds. Were you getting wet? Horror and shame blossomed in your chest. The fact that you were growing aroused wasn’t lost on Tamaki. His foreign, sadistic grin was back… aimed directly into your soul.

“So that’s what you like, huh?” His nails bit into your thighs leaving tiny crescents behind, “I’ve been too nice? Too soft?” He pushed your thighs impossibly wide, the stretch causing you to moan. He hovered over your core, onyx orbs blown wide with a mix of hate and lust. Tamaki looked like the devil himself and you wondered just how fucked up you were for wanting his punishment.

He opened his mouth and lolled out his tongue, never severing the desperate gaze you both shared, his intertwined with hunger, yours with fear. You’d never noticed how long and thick his tongue was and couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel caressing every ridge and crevice of your inner walls. He flattened the warm, wet muscle and pressed it along your slit. As he slowly slid it closer and closer to your burning clit, you whimpered and bucked your hips chasing the pleasure you knew he was capable of giving… but this was not your sweet boy and he wasn’t doing any of this for your pleasure.

He slung his arm over your lower stomach and growled into your drenched lips. You were pinned down, helpless against his torturous tongue. Fresh tears pricked at your eyes as you remembered how he’d let you pet him and buck into his face, how sweetly he’d ease you into a gentle release. Not this time… it was all teeth and sharp sucks, his tongue forcing you open violently. You were being shoved over a cliff and despite the horror and violence of what was happening to you. You were approaching an orgasmic state at record speed. Tamaki caught on and doubled down. The arm that wasn’t pinning you into the mattress pulled your leg down straight, your knee in a death grip. The new angle made the sensations even more intense. His face pressed harder into your core and you noticed that at some point, he’d started weeping, small sobs vibrating against your skin. The overwhelming mix of emotions and the vigor in which he was eating you shoved you over the edge.

He kept going along at the same speed with the same determination through your orgasm until it became painful. You pushed past it as best you could, allowing him to sob into your over-sensitive skin until he had his fill. As the pain started intermingling with pleasure, your legs shook and the gag couldn’t hold your screams back any longer. You released against his tongue once more, both of you sobbing. He laid against your thigh for what felt like an eternity before he lifted himself to lay on top of you, his hip bones digging into your soft thighs. You could feel the bulge through the thin material of his boxer briefs. Your hips rose to meet it, a pleading gesture filled with the desire to comfort and please him. Your eagerness encourages his mercy, there’s a meek cry that leaves your lips when the damp silk slips from between your teeth.

“Please baby… I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you…” your voice was as weak as a kitten’s cry and Tamaki couldn’t deny it made his heart (his dick) clench.

“Say it…” his lips were close enough to kiss, but you resisted… fearful of what he’d do if you did.

“Say what, Tama?” your eyes were wide with concern and confusion. You were desperate to please him.

He turned your face to the camera that you’d forgotten was there and the gravity of the situation crashed around you again. New tears leaked from your stinging eyes as Tamaki whispered into your ear.

“Say that you’re a lying whore…”

“I..I’m a lying whore…”

The last syllable broke as your abused throat grew accustomed to speaking again. He rewarded you with a soft kiss to your cheek and your eyes closed at the tender gesture. The familiar pain in your chest welled to the surface causing even more tears to escape.

“And tell everyone that you’re my own personal slut”

You repeated the phrase to the audience behind the screen and he hummed with approval, trailing one finger along your wet cheek.

“Good girl…” the praise sent shivers through your wrecked body.

“And tell them from now on, your boyfriend will be the only one making you come… that they only get to see you be HIS slut.”

You noticed the chat going absolutely haywire at your announcement. Before Tamaki shut your laptop, you realized you’d made three times as much as you’d ever made before and a twisted sense of accomplishment filled your cloudy mind.

“Please,” your voice came out in a croak, “Please untie me. I wanna make it up to you,” his clothed bulge was burning into your core and you could tell he was close to breaking.

“Please let me make you feel good. I’m so, so sorry,” the clench of your thighs around his waist made him whimper.

He reluctantly pulled away to sit on the foot of the bed. The way he curled in on himself hugging his knees made him appear so small, so fragile… a complete change from the man who’d just manhandled you into restraints.

“You’re a liar…” you almost didn’t hear the whisper, his face buried into his knees.

“Please!” you were losing feeling in your hands and all you wanted was to be free to comfort him.

His eyes met yours and it was your Tamaki again... Your sweet boy… the snarling, green beast that threatened to devour you was sleeping now after it reached its fill of violence. He crawled over your body and released your restraint. Before you even regained feeling in your hands, you wrapped your arms around him. You littered his collarbone with sweet kisses and apologetic sobs. He began to melt into your affectionate gestures and you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him impossibly close. Wet lips met and your tongues fought against each other for dominance. Hips began to roll against each other, increasing pressure until you both gasped.

The violence was gone, but this was still not a gentle coupling like you’d been planning. Tamaki pulled away and freed his straining cock from his boxers. The skin-to-skin contact made your eyes roll back into your skull. You felt his long fingers grasp your throat, squeezing to remind you just how powerful they were. You shuddered in response, arching upward into his touch, chasing that high his dominance was giving you.

With one swift motion, Tamaki speared you onto his cock. With the minimal prep he’d given you, the stretch was agonizing. This was by far the largest cock you’d ever taken and it stole your breath from your aching lungs. You moaned earning a visceral reaction from the boy on top of you.

Tamaki stayed as still as he could. He refused to come so soon… not when he’d waited so long for this. He tightened his grip on your throat and tentatively rocked his hips into yours. It didn’t take long for it to progress into the most frantic love-making you’d ever experienced.

There was no other way to describe it, he was hate fucking you… biting and sucking your chest until blood bloomed under your skin… hammering into your sore, sticky cunt with total abandon… he was using you like a toy, taking out all his frustrations on your body.

It was ecstasy.

When his hips stuttered as he met his release, the spasms of his tip against your gummy walls sent you into a painful orgasm. You were spent and it seemed like he was too. Your fingers twitched over the crown of his head, wanting to run your fingers through his hair but too scared to initiate any contact with him. As if he could read your mind, he grabbed your hand and placed it on his head. You sighed and began carding through the tangles, gently undoing them. You felt a stream of tears running down your chest as you worked your fingers through his strands. Lifting his face gently, you met his teary gaze with your own.

“Don’t…” he drew in a shuddering breath, “ever lie to me like that again…” the monster behind his eyes stirred quietly, a malicious glint in his eye, before shifting back into your gentle boyfriend.

“Never, I swear to you, baby…” he lets you lift his chin gently to meet your lips. His eyes close and he sighs into your kiss. His muscles relax and when his eyes open again, his warm, adoring expression falls over your face. The hand that wanted to choke the life out of your eyes minutes ago now caresses your jaw tenderly,

“I trust you…” his lips turn up into a grin that’s just a little too wide, “Because you’re a smart girl, aren’t you?” his top lip brushed against your still trembling bottom lip…

“Y-yes…”

You were fucked. This whole situation was fucked up and you weren’t blind to the fact. But as Tamaki nuzzled into your neck placing soft kisses and whispering praises into your skin, you let yourself bask in the gentleness of the moment…

Because you were a smart girl and smart girls learn their lessons quickly...

#bnha #bnha smut #yandere tamaki #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki x y/n #tamaki amajiki #tw:dubcon #tw: noncon #tw: injury #tw: toxic relationship #tw: dark themes

1K notes · View notes

puppypeter · 3 years

Text

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Steve pauses and looks at them.

What he wants is to stay with them. He doesn't have any family left, they all died before he even joined the war and became... this. Captain America turned whatever he is now. But Natasha and Sam have become his family over the years. Not just because they're on the run together, fugitives and vigilantes, but way before that too.

He doesn't want to leave that.

But he knows that, realistically, he can't stay with them and they can't stay with him.

So he looks at them with a smile and lies. “I don't know.”

OR; In which Steve retires and finally finds a place to call home.

You Can’t Put Your Arms Around A Memory | 1148 words 🐈

"Alright, Bucky," Steve slows his steps, watches his neighbour stop at the bottom of the next flight of stairs. There's a canvas bag in his hand that Steve didn't notice earlier, cream coloured with the figure of a sleeping, black cat painted on it. "Have a good day."

He thinks Bucky's cheeks pink up a bit right then and there, but Steve can't tell. He's too distracted by his pounding, foolish heart, by the way Bucky smiles bashfully, and ducks his head. The way he seems like he wants to stay.

To Believe In Tomorrow | 3959 words 👨🏻‍🌾

Bucky's mornings at the community garden get a little more interesting when the new guy shows up.

Maybe This Christmas | 24873 words | Part 1 of Maybe ❄️

Bucky’s not going home for Christmas. But it’s fine. He’s spending Christmas alone in his apartment, but it’s cool. He’s not feeling up to seeing his family after his accident anyway, plus he has to work. He’s totally fine with it. But then he runs into Steve, literally, and suddenly his Christmas isn’t looking so empty after all.

-----

Hurrying was a bad idea. Bucky’s foot hits a patch of ice and slides out from under him in what would have been a comical cartoon banana-peel-like trip, if it wasn’t happening to him, and he braces himself to hit the ground. This is going to hurt.

“Fuck,” Bucky screeches, but as he lands on his back, it’s not the cold hard concrete he expected, but a solid mass beneath him. Oh god, Bucky thinks as he realises he smacked into the person behind him and took them down with him.

Maybe This Year (Will Be Better Than Last) | 133868 words | Part 2 of Maybe ❄️

Last year, Bucky Barnes met Steve Rogers. Well actually, he slipped and fell on him. What followed was the best Christmas either of them had ever had. But what happens when Christmas is over and life returns to normal? What happens after the Christmas miracle?

-----

Bucky should have known. He did know. When things seem too good to be true, they usually are. And Steve is the best thing that has happened to him in a long time, possibly ever, so of course it couldn’t last.

Maybe This Time (I Hope I Get The Chance To Say Goodbye) | 34561 words | Part 3 of Maybe ❄️

Steve and Bucky Barnes are happily married. They've made it through some hard times and come out stronger and happier, together. Then Steve gets called on to come out of retirement for the most important mission of his life and everything changes. Everything.

-----

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas…” Steve starts singing along softly, and Bucky chuckles, before leaning his head onto Steve’s shoulder, always happy when he’s in Steve’s arms.

“From now on, our troubles will be miles away…” Bucky joins in.

Dancing round their living room, just as in love as ever, their troubles seem light-years away, if not non-existent.

Sadly, they’re closer than they think.

The Unexpected Gift | 9504 words | Part 1 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Steve Rogers is fine.

After ending a long-term relationship with Sam Wilson, Steve moves back to New York. He's tired and lonely but depressed? No. At least, that's what he thinks.

From the window of his apartment, he watches a dark-haired man and his service dog sitting in the park, wondering what his story is.

The Winter Storm | 2218 words | Part 2 of When Winter Comes 🐕

"If I could give you one thing in life, I would give you the ability you see yourself through my eyes, only then would you realize how special you are to me."

After Bucky and Steve confessed their feelings for each other, life has its own twisted way to challenge the most profound love.

One January Night | 4213 words | Part 3 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Before going back to work, Steve Rogers still has things to learn: 1- Depression is a bitch and the battle against it isn't an easy one. 2- Dating a person with disabilities comes with its share of challenges.

Bucky Barnes Has His Shit Together (And Other Lies He Tells Himself) | 14159 words 🔒

You’d think a guy who owns one of the most successful bakeries in Brooklyn, has a million-dollar smile and that antiquated good ol’ boy charm, blond hair and blue eyes and biceps for days, would know what’s what.

But don’t let that fool you: Steve Rogers is a mess.

Obvious | 917 words ☕

"Oh, I have a prompt! So, it makes me laugh how painfully obvious Steve and Bucky's feelings are to everyone when they're in that pining, slowburn, does-he-doesn't-he phase. But imagine Steve and Bucky working in a coffee shop together and constantly bickering, nudging and playfully flirting with each other. And all the employees and patrons are so invested in their relationship and just want them to kiss already but no one realizes that Steve and Bucky have been married since they got out of HS."

#stucky #steve rogers/bucky barnes #bucky barnes/steve rogers #stucky fics #stucky fic #stucky fic rec #stucky fic recs #stucky fics rec #stucky fics recs #stucky fan fiction #stucky fiction #stucky ao3 #stucky complete #stucky au #adorable stucky fics

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blkgirl-writing · 4 years

Text

"Head Game" part 1 Zuko X Reader Smut Hcs

Warnings: complete filth. Zukos first blowjob at like 20, poor guy.

Requested: yes! By many beautiful, horny anons.

A/n: as always, Reader is assumed as a WOC. Though, everyone can read it, as its left a bit vague. My requests are always open!

[Part 2 found here!]

Zuko was having a really, really hard day.

Years had gone by as a king, and yet he felt less equipped the longer the title was held to his name,

Meetings became white noise, training because a dull pastime. There was no adventure left in life,

That's why he started the arrangement between you two...

You, a representative of a small city in the fire kingdom, and most importantly, his good friend.

A good friend who shot him the most dirty, lust filled looks at any given chance

He definitely shot some back too.

The touches you shared were getting longer, hugs a bit tighter,

You started to kiss his cheek, staining his skin a dark red. A memory of where your lips were.

He had a wet dream about you,

Lipstick still painting his skin

Zuko was fucking confused. Sure, the pair had flirted playfully, maybe he had placed his hand on your thigh one or two times, but no one had spoken about it.

The picture of your head bobbing, unholy moans from your lips on his-

It was wrong. Really, really wrong.

For the next week, Zuko avoided you at all costs.

If course you noticed the fire lord ignoring you clearly calling his name down the hall.

Had you miss stepped? Maybe he had a girlfriend and you had gone too far?

The week after that, you decided enough was enough. You had to know.

After a meeting, you asked to speak alone with Zuko

Zuko was freaking out.

He had three more dreams about you since the first. His only thought was how the fuck you found out about them. (This boy actually thought he was being so sly and smart with his avoidance)

"Do you hate me?" Your words came out far more desperate than you wanted. "I'm so sorry if I messed up. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable-"

"What?" Zuko was so confused, oh my god. Where the hell? What the hell were you talking about?"

"Well, you've been avoiding me, so I assumed that I was coming on too strongly and you don't..."

"Don't what?" Still confused Zuko can't imagine a girl liking him, even when shes flirted with him for years...

"This is already embarrassing, zuko, don't make me-"

"Tell me~" His voice changed, a bit more buttery, lower, sexy...

"I was worried I was too clear with my flirting, and you were disappointed? Disgusted? I don't know, honestly." You huffed.

There was a really, brutally long length of silence.

Zukos mind was going at full speed...all thise touches, all the small kisses that you gave no one else. You wanted the same thing he did...maybe. was it worth the risk?

The answer was yes.

"I think about you. I dream about you, even." Zuko forced himself to look up at you, who sat with your painted lips slightly parted. "My imagination went wild. I couldn't look at you without thinking of my...dreams."

"Oh."

"Well, I'm sure I can help with that-" you stood up, zuko quickly following. He didnt know what to do, so he just stood there, looking like a shook puppy.

"Tell me about your dreams, Zuko. Tell me how I made you feel."

Your hips pressed into his, lips inches away from his ear, hot breath sending shivers down his spine.

Zuko rested his hands on your hips, urging you so very softly to just come a bit closer. Maybe then his words wouldnt fair him.

"It's okay, Zuko. You can take your time." You hummed, placing a small kiss on the exposed skin if his neck. A perfect canvas to paint love marks.

After one or two, hickeys, you asked "is it okay if I keep going?" Followed by - "do you want this.

"More than anything-" "I dreamt that you

"Keep going-" you hummed, untying his pants as he spoke.

Zuko barely even breath. You so easily made him weak. So easily hard...painfully ficking hard as you palmed him though his boxers.

"You sucked my cock," Zukos voice was low, forcing himself to to whimper as you wrapped your fingers around his length.

You looked up into Zukos eyes, his yellow ones staring into your brown eyes with a desire you hadn't ever seen before. Lust beyond words.

The motions were quick...pushing his underwear down, his cock springing free from the cloth, spitting on his length as you used both hands to pump

Honestly you fought the urge to gasp, cause hot damn, he was packing

Your jaw was not gonna be okay after, holy shit

"What next, my king~" you purred, kitty licking his tip.

Zuko hummed under your touch, the way you talked to him was just pure filth, and he loved it.

"Can...can I touch your hair? I...i remember helping you take me in," for a man on the verge of being a puddle, his words were affirming and deep.

"You can pull my hair," this is how you knew you found Zuko attractive. Any other time you'd shamelessly swat the guys hand away. "Guide me."

His fingers intertwined with the hair near the nape of your neck a gentle motion to take him inside your mouth. Nothing too hard, just a bit of pain.

"Just like that-fuck" Zuko let out a strangled breath, shutting his eyes tight as you hollowed your cheeks around his cock.

It was slow, taking what seemed like minutes until you got as far as you could go, still quite a few inches left at his base. The muttered gagging sound as his length hit the back of your throat fully fucking aroused and confused Zuko

"Are you okay?" He choked out, moaning when you hummed a reply.

You bobbed your head at a decently slow pace, not wanting to overwhelm the king, who clearly hadn't gotten a blowjob before. Giving a soft pump from your right hand, just to give that extra amount of pleasure.

His eyes shot from how you sucked on his cock, lips pushing in and out, leaving a streak of red lipstick down his shaft, down to your exposed breasts. How did he not notice you unwrapping your blouse?

And how fucking soft your hair was in his hands, how you moaned around him if he pulled hard. Sometimes he just had to close his eyes for a few seconds, bathing himself from the moaning mess he had become. His free hand brushing through his messy hair,

"When I came," zuko muttered, licking his chapped lips. "You drank it all, licked your lips of the rest."

Your free hand came up to Zukos thigh, squeezing his skin softly as your own little reply.

Then you start going faster, hand moving to to caress his balls, and zuko comes undone.

"F-fuck, you're doing so good, fucK"

His grip on your hair became much tighter, his hands forcing you to go just a bit deeper, faster, harder. Then he looked into your eyes,

Looking up at him, eyes begging to drink up every drop he would spill into your mouth

Zuko was literally shaking, his hands coming down to your shoulders as he came, knees so close to giving out.

The deeper angle of him, plus the weight of zuko keeping himself upright purely by hanging onto you made you honestly think you might drown in cum

Not the worst way to die, but still.

You brought both of your hands to his hips, steadying him as he bucked his hips into you

It seemed like he was cumming for hours, an absolute mess, black hair draping down on his sweaty face.

Eventually, Zuko pushed himself up from his slumped form, running a hair through his locks, trying to play it cool

The sight of you was dirty and so, so beautiful. Lips plumped, curls springing out left and right from your hair, tears of arousal brimming at the corners of your eyes. Fuck. Fuck fuck.

"Enjoy yourself?" You managed to smile, voice weak and throat a bit sore. With the help of Zuko, his hands held yours to help you balance. The long time on your knees had certainly taken a bit of a toll.

"Fuck yes-" he sighed, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. Just as you did to him, he placed small kisses along your neck, up to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe. "You're so good. So beautiful."

"Can I return the favor...?" Zuko whispered, voice hoarse and raspy from the moans.

"Of course, my king." You replied, bringing your hands up to his hair, pulling slightly. "Let's recreate one of my dreams."

#smut #requested #zuko smut #zuko x reader smut #prince zuko #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko x you #atla #atla x reader #atla x reader smut #avatar the last airbender x reader #avatar #zuko headcanon #zuko x reader headcanons

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todoscript · 4 years

Text

Work of Art

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader genre: smut. word count: 3.6k+ warnings: 18+. shibari. bondage. submissive bakugou. dominant reader. begging. praising. bakugou being a little bit of a brat?

anonymous requested: okay but what abt.. submissive bakugo👉👈 him being all bratty and shuts up when you deny him—

author’s note: ohhh boyyyy... submissive bakugou really got me writing more than 3k’s worth of filth haha, but i hope you enjoy! shoutout to my gals, rosie ( @shoutogepi ) & val ( @shoutodoki ) for indulging with me during our talks about sub bnha boys

“Hmm, I don’t see why you’re so against this,” your voice sounds out, and Bakugou immediately perceives the saccharine dripping upon every word, a lilt of a smile dancing on your colored lips, painted in a vivid rosy red pigment that only enhances your seduction. Despite how sweet you sound, he knows that underneath that layer of sugar lies a venom waiting to intoxicate him—ensnare his reasoning and leave him utterly vulnerable to your mischief. As in this moment, you embody every characteristic akin to a vixen, enveloped in the lacy fabric of your black lingerie.

Bakugou sits before you bound to a chair with an intricate network of cordage twined across his naked skin. The patterns and shapes knotted together contrast stunningly against his expanse of hard muscle—reminiscent of paint on canvas. And you tonight are the artist.

“You look so pretty, like a beautiful piece of art…” you say languidly. Each syllable uttered is drawn out in alluring breaths that somehow makes him feel hazy. He grits his teeth at how much that extra flair in your voice affects him, eyebrows narrowing tightly as he fidgets in his seat. His arms and wrists ache from just a simple wriggle, your meticulous work granting him no chance to get free.

“Ah-ah, you’re not gonna get out of this one,” you tease. Right as he opens his mouth for a snappy retort, the words are swooped from under him when your hands begin to trace his naked skin—starting from his thigh, up to his abs, and then landing to his chest, where you make a point to taunt him by dancing your fingertips there before bending down to meet his eyes. Your ruby red lips curve impishly at what you reduced him to. “You can try as much as you like, but I’ve tied the ropes this way so you can’t get free~ Don’t want you to spoil the fun after all,” you sing. Fully aware of your boyfriend’s strength built upon many years of arduous hero training alongside that powerful quirk of his, you made sure Pro Hero Ground Zero would not turn the tables on you in his haste for pleasure tonight.

Thus, his usual brash exterior dwindles in the face of your ministrations when you play with the rope a bit more. When he notices your eyes descend to his angry red cock that stands firm amid the knotwork surrounding it, his impatience builds. Bakugou wets his lips, finally ushering some words out from his dry throat.

“Fuck… Stop stalling already…” he tells you, voice borderline on a plea, but his remaining pride pushes the inflection back in hopes it resembles even a lick of his regular gruff tone. Your hums in reply don’t entail much, other than the fact you’re still prolonging his needs.

“Stalling? Who said I was stalling?” You feign ignorance before deciding to take a seat on him, straddling his thighs. “I just want to admire my work of art a bit more… I did a pretty good job—” your hand suddenly comes to his cock, fingers coaxing its hardness that makes his breath hitch, “don’t you think?”

For once, Bakugou’s scrounging for words at the sudden contact. He’s not used to being so speechless when it comes to passion in the bedroom with you. If anything—moaning and yelling aside—he regards himself the more vocal one between the two of you, his dirty talk and crude language a routine he always enacted to get you hot, bothered, and oh so ready for him. However, the shibari ropes braided across his body press a button that spurs him to be so… submissive.

God, him and “submissive” do not belong in the same sentence.

He thinks this, and yet the aesthetic arrangement on his skin emphasizes his sensuality and vulnerability, and it somehow makes arousal wholly envelop his cock.

“Well?” You bring him back to the situation at hand by thumbing over the slit of his length, slick with his pre-cum. The touch causes a groan to slip past his lips. “I asked you a question, Katsuki.” You stroke his length up and down for every word, stopping right at the end and leaving his cock weeping for more of your touch, strained by the rope.

“Ah, f-fuck—” He internally curses himself for the stutter. Glancing at you, he heeds the smirk that still hangs proudly on your red lips.

Boy, does he itch to wipe it off your face with bruising kisses and have wanton moans singing from them when he pounds you into the bed. To his dismay, however, that itch remains unreachable thanks to your painstakingly elaborate composition. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, this shibari shit you performed on him was executed with great attention to detail for him to be left so aroused and unable to break free in this damn chair. But would he ever say this to you out loud? Hell no. So he settles for defiance instead.

Bakugou looks you straight in the eye with a smug expression plastered on his face. “Hah, is this supposed to impress me? Seems like a bunch of amateur work to me, babe,” he scoffs boldly, earning a raised brow from you at his attitude despite the position he’s in. Perhaps he needs a reminder that no matter how much he squirms, he isn’t getting a sliver of authority tonight.

“Is that so?” You jab, finger looping around the cordage tied across his collarbones to pull him forward in his chair. His face is so close to yours; he can feel your breath on his lips and smell the enticing fragrance of your perfume. It’s an off-beat mix of rose and jasmine that gets his blood pumping from just a whiff. “I don’t think you truly understand the position you’re in right now, Suki,” you muse sensually, lips tugging back into a smirk that has him second-guessing his actions, “I just need to remind you then.”

At that, your hand immediately falls to his cock, stout and weepy with pre-cum, capturing Bakugou’s attention. He groans wantonly while you stroke it. Dropping to your knees, you watch as your ministrations evoke bliss into his cock from below. You can tell without even glancing at him that he’s biting his tongue to suppress his obscene noises. However, the increasing volume in his voice betrays him.

“Agh, fucking goddd—” he drawls beneath his breath when you decide to pick up the pace with your hand, applying the right amount of pressure that had his walls slowly cracking in front of you. The strain on his body from the ropes heightens his lust. Bakugou tugs on the restraints in the fit of pleasure building inside him.

“Hm well look at that. You were so bold before, but now look at you—” Your other hand goes to fondle his balls, the extra sensation making him buck in his seat, “a hard, aching mess at my touch, isn’t that right?”

“Ugh, if you—fuck—think I’m going to give in— Haaahhh...” His words are a jumbled mess. Bakugou leans against his seat, tossing his head back while involuntarily rocking his hips into your hand.

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you over your moaning and groaning,” you mock, watching his brows knit together at the lust consuming his being. His panting comes out ragged while he gasps for air, thighs flexing at the fire coursing through his body that teeters on a tightrope. However, before he can reach his high, the sensations are ripped away when you quickly remove your digits from him, recognizing his imminent release.

Bakugou shoots his eyes open. A sharp shift in his seat has the chair’s legs scraping against the floor. “What the hell?!” he growls, practically snarling the words out. There’s a wave of anger heard in his tone that you don’t take a liking to. You wag your finger.

“That’s no way to talk, Katsuki.”

“I don’t give a fuck! I was so damn close to cumming! Why the hell did you stop?!” Bakugou yells vehemently with a pierce in his red eyes. You run your hands on his thighs as you lean up to return the look.

“Y’know if you’re going to act like this—act like a brat—I might as well just leave you here and not let you cum at all tonight, hm?” you threaten, and the notion brings his temper to an immediate silence. The idea of you keeping him bound to this chair while his cock cries for release is enough to diminish his poise. He sinks in his seat submissively when you inch closer, eyeing the bright red of your painted lips that curls salaciously with each word you utter to him.

“But if you behave, sit here obediently, and continue looking all pretty for me, I might let you cum. How’s that sound?” you offer.

He bites his lip. It’s like he’s making a deal with a succubus right now, that damn voice of yours coaxing him.

“F-Fine…” he manages to answer. You smile at his compliance before placing a kiss on his cheek. You’re granted a glimpse of the faint, red imprint left on his skin thanks to your lipstick when you detach from him. Almost as if you’ve marked him as yours.

“Good boy.” The praise sends a shiver down his spine as you whisper it into his ear. He watches you descend onto your knees again, gazing at his cock like you’re about to pounce. And god, does he wish you would just do it already, but instead, you choose to prolong him some more and glance at him.

“Now… what do you want me to do to you?”

Really? Did you have to ask this? Bakugou furrows his brows at how you play cloy. “Argh, you already know—”

“I want to hear it from you though,” you interject, leaning forward and running a finger along a prominent vein on the side. His pretty cock twitches at your touch. “Use your words and tell me all the things you want me to do to you, ’Suki.”

Before he can bite his tongue, his mind is already one step ahead of him, blurting out his thoughts shamelessly. “God, I want to be in your mouth. I want you to suck my dick and let me cum in your throat. And then I want you to get up here, ride me to oblivion, and let me paint your pussy so fucking white. Please please please—” He adds in his pleas for good measure, the desire to climax overpowering his pride in the heat of the moment that feeds your ego.

The word “please” has never sounded so dulcet coming out of that usually vulgar mouth of his. Who knew Bakugou Katsuki was capable of begging so well? It’d be an absolute shame not to reward him for his good behavior.

You lick your lips. “There, that wasn’t too hard, was it?” Then you begin acting on his wishes, your tongue making contact with his hard cock, gradually running up the side until you reach the head. Swirling against the tip causes a growl to bellow from his throat, jerking forward when you wrap your lips around the entire head. He watches with lidded eyes as your lipstick begins smearing across his dick, sucking him in like that.

His moans sound frenzied the more his cock inches into your warm cavern. The sounds encourage you to eagerly bob your head up and down his length with your spit collecting in the back of your throat. You adore the way his cock feels in your mouth, so heavy and thick, and especially love the fact that your controlled pace has your man reeling with pleasure, finally letting his unabashed whimpers out. You savor every little sound like it’s your favorite song on repeat, which it might as well be from how slick gathers at your cunt listening to them.

“Shit! Baby, please don’t fucking stop!” he begs, head tossed behind him as you moan your response into his dick, picking up speed. Your hand pumps his shaft a few more times until you bring it down to your panties to move the material aside and rub your clit. The contact sends a tingle through your body that urges you to bottom his cock into your mouth. Feeling your wetness enveloping his cock gratifies every nerve in his body until it ultimately leaves him undone.

”Agh! Sh-Shit—!” he curses, his climax peaking as his white cum spurts inside your throat. You make sure to swallow every last drop, tasting his delicious cream on your tongue as you detach from him with a lewd pop.

Bakugou is still catching his breath by the time you happily wipe your mouth of your excess spit and any lingering drops of his delectable seed, his chest heaving in and out with the red rope flexing at his every movement. A haze clouds his vision from the intensity of his orgasm, but he’s at least able to see you standing before him—lipstick now messy but that mischief in your eyes persisting.

“Sukiiii~ You’re absolutely gorgeous like this—tied up, sweaty, and gasping for air just because of me,” you praise.

“B-Baby…” Bakugou’s tone somehow rings higher than usual. Your eyebrows perk up, the wetness at your core saturating through your panties hearing the shameless little whine.

“Kiss me… please…”

Well, since you asked so nicely…

You straddle his thighs and bring your lips to his own, letting him taste the bittersweetness of his cum from your tongues fervently melding against each other. Soon the makeout session comes to a halt with a quick peck on his lips. He peers into your glimmering expression with an insatiable need, struggling in his bonds as his cock hardens once more at your proximity—skin so warm against him. But your lingerie still obscures him from your real treasures. He wants to rip it off you already.

“Can I get out this damn thing yet?” he asks, quiet yet impatient. You shake your head.

“’Fraid not, Katsuki, I still need to ‘ride you to oblivion,’ remember?” you quote him.

Crap. He does. And surprisingly, there are no objections when you remind him. His silence amid your established authority doesn’t go unnoticed by you as you grin devilishly at how pliant he’s become throughout the night.

As if you’ve read his mind, your hand finds the clasp fastened on your back. “Since you’ve been such a good boy for me—” a simple flick of your wrist undoes the grip holding your bra together, “I’ll reward you for the rest of the night.” On cue, the skimpy garment glides down your shoulders.

Tossing the bra into the void of the bedroom, you can’t help the giggle that bubbles from your lips at Bakugou’s widened eyes aimed at your tits bared before him. He absentmindedly shifts in a vain attempt to lift his hands and grab your mounds, forgetting the rope bound on his arms behind his back prevents him from touching your soft, naked skin.

“Aw, you want to touch my tits?” you chide. Bakugou grunts in response, and you’re amused by the way he turns his head bashfully as if you miss the subtle blush dusting his cheeks. Such a cute little act.

Cupping your hand under his jaw brings his attention back to you. You nudge him so he faces you again, not allowing his eyes to gander anywhere else but on your own.

“I’ll let you do a little bit more than touch…” Your thumb lightly brushes his lower lip, pulling it down ever so slightly, and he realizes what you want him to do.

And boy, is he eager to abide by your desires.

Opening his mouth, he doesn’t hesitate to latch onto your right nipple immediately, tongue poking out around the bud. You hum in content at how passionately he licks and sucks, petting the back of his head and brushing your fingers through his soft blonde hair to encourage him along.

“Ooooh… That’s it Suki… You’re doing so well, sucking on my nipple like that,” you moan as Bakugou moves over to your left breast, giving its twin the same amount of attention. He groans between licks, flattening his tongue and drawing out the sound erotically against your skin. It spurs you to grind your clothed pussy on his erection, earning you his hisses between tugging your nub into his mouth.

In the meantime, your other hand, not caressing his locks, stumbles upon your wetness seeping past your intimates, practically soaking through onto his dick. A few strokes of your fingertips beneath your panties gathers your gossamer-like slick that interlaces your digits together in a web. You tear Bakugou off your bud to hover your glossy fingers in front of him. Right away, he begins diligently licking away at the slippery sheen, moans lewdly vibrating deep in his throat with each swipe of his tongue.

“How do I taste?”

“So fucking good. Shit, I want more,” he says. You grin, flattered by his enthusiasm to devour more of your essence. However, you’d have to put that on hold for another time.

“Hm, not tonight, I’m afraid. I need you inside me right this second.” Your words have pure anticipation sparking through his body. He stares attentively as you lift yourself over the head of his cock, aligning his length into your soaked hole, panties pushed to the side.

“Arghhh…” Bakugou hisses between gritted teeth when the first inch enters, fists clenched around nothing at how tightly you’re squeezing him. Your whimpers accompany him as you adjust to his well-endowed size, a pleasant burn seizing you. Heat sprouts in your abdomen the more you descend on Bakugou’s firm, aching cock, eventually bottoming out with a long sigh.

“Fucking hell, you’re so damn fucking tight—”

If your mouth feels good, then your pussy is practically heaven, inducing him in hot, tight bliss when you start bouncing up and down.

“Ah, Suki, your cock is so big… so hard…Mmph, I love how it fills me up!” you sing, arms wound around his neck, tits pressing against his chest. Having to sit back with nothing to leverage him amid your silky walls pressing around his cock, bursts of mini-explosions crackle in his palms. A musky scent of burnt caramel suddenly invades your senses, making your cunt clench tighter. Bakugou curses at how you hug his length.

“Fuck! Baby, I want you to ride my cock faster! Make me cum so damn hard that I feel it for weeks!”

Even when taking on a submissive role, Bakugou’s dirty talk never ceases to rile you up. You nod in reply, thighs flexed while your tempo on his cock increases to the point where it ensnares both of you in the throes of pleasure. Unable to do much except allow you to work yourself on and off him, he settles for leaning in and capturing your lips, which you respond to earnestly by parting your mouth to let your tongues dance again. A few particular hard drops later cause him to detach himself from you to groan out loudly.

The echo of your skins making firm contact against each other fogs his thoughts. His eyes are half-lidded when they gaze at you. You giggle at his expression—shrouded in pure bliss from his blanketed red eyes to his tongue peeking out of his lips. Caressing his jawline, you tilt his head up.

“Whose good boy are you?” you ask. It takes a second for him to answer.

“Y-Yours…”

You pry on, not letting up for even a second in your bouncing, “Who made you a pretty work of art tonight?”

“You! Fuck, you did!” he cries out, head tossed to the side that grants you access to the beautiful expanse of his neck. Your mouth finds his skin, kisses ascending until you reach the junction below his cut jawline as he continues reeling at the sensations building inside him.

“That’s right, Suki. So good, so obedient. I think it’s time I let you cum, yeah? Let you fill my little hole up with all your creamy white goodness…”

Your pace escalates quickly, not granting a relief of pause until you both begin arriving on the cusp of release.

“Fuckfuckfuck!! C-Cumming—!” Bakugou yells out, your grappling walls milking his twitching cock that surges into his climax. As promised, his cum coats your insides wholly white, stuffing you to the brim that has the heat inside you lurching. It’s right after the apex of his pleasure that your pussy spasms around him, body trembling, and toes curled as you peak into your high. He licks at your nipple arched in front of his face while your cries fill the space of the room.

By the time the two of you settle down in the aftermath of your euphorias, you’re both sweaty, panting messes. Bakugou more so as his head rests against your shoulder, allowing you to pet his hair between your fingers and comfort the tremors still racking through him.

“You did so so well, Katsuki. I’m very proud of you.” You lay a sweet kiss on his temple. Your praises manage to elicit a content hum from his lips while he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. Before you can get up and remove the tight ropes still lining his upper body, Bakugou suddenly lifts his head and meets your eyes, a tired yet devious expression painted on his face.

“Next time, we should tie you up in these things.”

#bnha x reader #bnha smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha imagine #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou katsuki smut

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melliflovs · 3 years

Text

Personal Punching Bag - Gojo x Reader

Word Count: 1,627

Warnings: NSFW 18+, Sweaty!Gojo, Oral, Teacher Student relationship, slight daddy kink, aftercare, Sexual tension whew

Summary: Gojo meets you in the gym for a surprise session, except this one ends a bit differently ;)

A/N: This is part two, part one is on my masterlist! This is my first time writing smut so I hope you enjoy!

My requests are open!

It'd been a week since you'd seen Gojo outside of class. He'd made no mention of your gym session since it happened or any indication that he'd meant to follow up on his empty suggestion of "We should do this again sometime"

Admittedly it'd left you deflated. You'd found yourself distracted in class, daydreaming of his eyes under the blindfold and how they looked even prettier than the blue sky on a clear day. Instead of focusing on your studies, you were zoning out and your time spent in the gym after classes just left you frustrated and yearning for more.

You knew deep down you liked more than just his eyes, Gojo had given you more than enough to think of at night when you were alone in your dorm. The image of him shirtless and glistening in sweat permanently ingrained in your mind. Hormonal schoolgirl fantasies running wild.

It was so unlike you, you hadn't checked but you could tell your grades were slipping and your reflexes weren't as sharp as they used to be. In the event that you were sent on a mission, you didn't know if you'd be able to hold your own or if you'd have to rely on Yuji and Megumi for your safety. The thought of being defenseless against curses frustrated you. You were supposed to be better than that and you felt like you were letting yourself and others down.

Today you walked to the gym by yourself, you'd grown distant to your friends lately. Your head too far up in the clouds to handle any conversation. You opened the door, a glimmer of hope in your eyes before it inevitably faded.

He wasn't there. Again.

With a sigh you took off your shoes, stepping onto the plush mat, and approaching your usual punching bag. The bright red canvas seemed to taunt you as you got into the stance that your sensei taught you not long ago.

You swung and hit the bag weakly, the dull thud reaching your ears and making you groan in annoyance. Abandoning your stance you let hell rain down on the punching bag. Swing after swing battered the equipment.

"You know I'm probably a better sparring partner than that bag."

His voice made your heart sing, your fist pausing mid-air when you heard it. Shaking your head you brushed the stupid feeling off. Internally scolding yourself. You don't have time for this.

"Why are you here, Sensei." You were clearly annoyed, your tone laced with irritation.

Gojo simply didn't care, "I thought we discussed that. Calling me Sensei outside of class." He was teasing, you could tell but you were tired. Your muscles beginning to ache from your pitiful workout.

"Fine," You spit. "What are you doing here, Gojo."

"You're clearly frustrated," He mused "Why don't you take it out on me" Without a second thought you turned and swung at him. Fist flying faster than he'd anticipated. Even though it caught him off guard at first, he recovered quickly and caught your fist, holding it in his own.

For a moment you both stilled, it was the first time you'd made eye contact in a while. His blindfold was already removed and you momentarily felt lost. With a smirk, he snapped you out of your daze by pulling you forward by your hand.

Tripping over your own feet you fell into his chest with a soft thud. He felt warm and smelled like honey and freshly washed laundry. You felt a laugh rumble through him as he spoke, "Don't get too comfortable, we haven't even begun."

Before you had a chance to question what he'd meant he used his other hand to tilt your head up to kiss you. It started off slow at first, lips melting together as it felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. You'd wanted this so badly, but you'd also wanted more.

You became greedy, slipping your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss, and pulling him closer. Gojo bent down to respond to your advances, tearing himself away from you for a moment to trail his lips down your neck.

He began sucking and biting lightly with his mouth, trailing lower as you pressed up against him. The grey sweatpants he wore to the gym left little to the imagination but what you felt against you was no dream.

You reached down to his bulge, clearly growing bigger the farther the two of you went. Your breathing grew heavy as you palmed him through his sweats. "S-Sensei"

"No." He growled out between sloppy kisses, his hands moving to your breasts. "Say my name, (y/n). Say it."

"Gojo" You moaned as his inquisitive fingers slipped under your bra and began to play with your nipples, the action sending small shocks to your core.

"I- I wanna make you feel good, Gojo." You whispered in between small pants as his hands continued to shamelessly roam your body. Your workout had already left you feeling sweaty but his actions were making your blood pressure rise. His hands relented and you took it as you greenlight.

Sinking down to your knees, you looked up at him through your lashes, eyes becoming clouded with lust. In one swift motion, you pulled down his sweats. To your surprise he'd gone commando, the soft look of shock on your face made him smirk. His blue eyes darkening as he watched his cock spring forward towards your beautiful face.

He'd never have admitted it but he'd imagined this very moment multiple times over the past week, hands moving over his own length late at night with your name on his lips.

Slowly you took him in your hand, slowly pumping him as you wet your lips. Your tongue flicked out towards his tip, the smallest of touches made Gojo moan softly, spurring you on. You wrapped your tongue around him. Slowly beginning to inch your way down his impressive length.

His hands found their way into your hair, petting you softly as you worked and keeping it out of your face. Gojo looked down on you with adoration, stroking your cheek softly as held back a moan.

"You're doing so well, baby." He praised, "Making your daddy, feel so good."

The name made your eyes widen and your thighs clench, you looked up at him as you took him all into your mouth. Your hand gripping his leg for stability.

You felt drool escape your mouth as you bobbed your head, listening to breath hitch as you looked up into his eyes. You moaned around him, feeling yourself growing even wetter.

Gojo tapped your cheek lightly, prompting you to stop your movements. You released him with a pop, his cock even harder than before as he pulls you up off the floor. "I want to be inside you, Baby. Wanna feel you come around me."

You moaned softly at the idea, quickly turning into a mess. He picked you up by your waist, wrapping your legs around him. As he walked you could feel him rubbing against your clothed heat, bringing you to the wall. He set you down for a moment, reaching down to drag down your yoga pants and squeezing your ass before lifting you again.

Hoisting you up he buried his face in your neck, your hair sticking to your skin with sweat. You felt like your nerves were on fire. Every little ministration going straight to your bundle of nerves that begged to be touched. Gojo started kissing your neck as his thumb moved your panties to the side, exposing yourself to him.

His fingers toyed with your folds, spreading your wetness up to your clit before slowly circling the bud. He could feel you tense up under him, your thighs tightening around his waist as you involuntarily pulled him closer, his cock rubbing against you.

Slowly he entered you with a hiss. Your warmth enveloping him as he started to thrust at a brutal pace. You were both so pent up, the thought of release taking over as you began rutting against each other. Gojo whispering sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how tight you are and how good you've been for daddy as you moan uncontrollably.

It felt as though as much time had passed but simultaneously not enough. You wanted to be lost in him forever.

You could feel him hitting against your cervix, you felt so full, so fulfilled after yearning for a week of your dreamy-eyed Sensei.

Gojo.

You could scream it from the rooftops until your lungs ached. So you did, the sound filling the gym and no doubt the surrounding hallways, but you didn't care. The feeling of him rutting against you and setting your skin ablaze took away all reason, your chants only making him go deeper and faster. His finger found his way back to your clit as you continued to edge closer to your end. Beginning to lightly shake from the exhaustion and pleasure.

"Let go, (y/n). Come around my cock."

His words set you over the edge, your body tensing again as you moaned his name lewdly. All you could think about was how good you felt stretched around him.

Gojo came shortly after finishing inside you and riding out your highs. Slowly he slipped out of you, his hair covering his face as he pushed yours to the side, giving your forehead a kiss. Carefully he lowered you to the ground, letting you rest as he walked to his gym bag that you'd long forgotten and grabbed a small towel. Carefully he cleaned you up then sat back down beside you.

Wrapping his arm around you he smiled softly "I'll be your personal punching bag anytime."

Temporarily accepting people for a jjk taglist, just comment on this post to be added!

Tag List: @foxerj12

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo smut #gojo simp

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clarissalance · 3 years

Text

Hints of something more

Albedo x fem!reader

Warning: Slight suggestive language at the end.

Word count: 2k7

Summary: Apparently, visiting Albedo in Dragonspine has somehow opened a new door to your vague, no-label relationship. And Kaeya won’t stop teasing you about it.

Before leaving for Dragonspine two days ago, Albedo told you to bring him some canvas, a few pencils and a paint set of watercolour. However, he failed to mention which brand and type of watercolour he wants you to bring. Is it a set of 24 colours? 48 colours or the 12 colours set? Furrow your eyebrows, you stared questioningly at the shelves, hesitating to pick one up. Knowing how picky Albedo is if it is not up to his standard. The man would refuse to touch the paint.

What would he choose usually? You can’t seem to recall his watercolour preference. Funny how it is, he usually encourages you to follow your instinct. Human instinct is the best to study. He would say something like this out of nowhere. Sometimes they make a really questionable decision that I can’t decipher. Definitely one of his catch-on phrase.

Drilling holes on the shelves for too long is not the solution, so you finally choose the most expensive set of 48 watercolours in the store. You cross your fingers and hope that he doesn’t question your choice. There it goes for half of my salary. Far away, you can faintly see the outline of the money fairy waving at you, flying toward Celestia. I hope he will like this one.

Packing up the last few things inside your backpack, you prepare for the adventure to the Dragonspine to meet with the chalk prince. The bright sun on the blue canvas is almost halfway to the top. The weather would be lovely for a small picnic, too good to waste over climbing to Dragonspine. Dragging your body toward the front gate, you lazily hope to hitch someone carriage. It would be best to start early than arriving at the lab late.

The journey takes an hour by feet to walk from the city to the foot of Dragonspine and then takes another 2 hours to walk to Albedo’s lab on the mountain. It would be much faster if you can actually have combat fighting skill to head-on with the cryo mitachurl, but life is much a sadder reality. You don’t have a vision nor a combat skill to solo a whole camp of hilichurl. However, with your brain and your gifted survival (escaping) instinct, dodging a few camps and distracting a few of them isn’t very hard.

The weather in Dragonspine is much better than what you anticipated. The sky deep and clear, the veil of fog has thinned enough. The air is crisp, mist rises and slowly dissipates after each exhales. The sheer cold is as brutal and sharp knife-like as usual. You can’t understand how Albedo loves the weather in this place enough to set up a lab in here. A summer person like you refuses to set foot in this area unless for commissions and Albedo’s related purpose. Hnng, you are starting to regret coming here.

There are a few more camps of hilichurl than usual on your way to the mountain, so you decide to take the longer route. At least meeting with a few Fatui is much more comforting than getting hit by an ice mitachurl shield.

By the time you get to the camp, the sun is standing proudly on the top. You get here an hour late, and much to your dismay, Albedo wasn’t in his lab. He is going out to look for more sample again. Heaving exhaustingly, you drop the heavy backpack thud on the ground. Scampering over the fire, you let out a satisfying at the charing fire. A pyro vision would be convenient to have in this weather.

With the sound of wood cracking under the desiring heat, the frost bearing breeze slowly finds its way into the camp, cooling the scorching radiation from the glowing fire. Warmth slowly crawls and sinks in on your dry skin, soothing the icy air. Exhausted, your eyelids slowly pull themselves over, threaten to extinguish your consciousness. A nap wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? You let out a long yawn, curl into a fetal position and use the bag as a pillow. Darkness comes within a second.

_____________________________________________________________

You are woken up by the warmth on the hand caressing your cheek, running through your hair. The familiar smooth hand resting on your face doesn’t know you have woken up, the thumb fiddling with your soft skin. Nuzzle lovingly at the palm, you let out sigh contentment. The hand is big enough, gently and carefully tracing your face outline like it’s treasuring a gift. This familiar feeling tickles you like a feather.

Groggily, you peel your eyes open and greet with a stunning sight. Albedo is sitting next to you, the fluffy blond hair softly falls on the cheek, some being tucked under his ears. The teal eyes focus intently on the notebook in front of him, glimmering with interest and dedication, his long lashes fluttering like a butterfly wing on a flower petal. The golden diamond on his neck glimmers faintly under the flicker of light, stand out on his creamy white skin. His warm slender fingers still lightly touch your hair soothingly make you feel so relaxing. Letting out a satisfying purr, you press your plump lips on his wrist, successfully gets Albedo attention.

“ How long have you been up?” His soothing voice has never failed to calm your nerve. You yearn up a little bit, trying to peek at the notebook on his lap. It’s so far away, you can’t catch a glimpse from here.

“ A while.” You hum. “ Long enough to get drunken at your handsome features.”

His eyes widen a little bit, not expecting that coming out from your mouth.

At the corner of his eyes, he catches your cheeky grin. Beaming widely at him, you internally cringing at your cheesy remark. You don’t even know what gives you the courage to slip the embarrassing words.

Albedo smirks at your blatant flirt, his reaction opposite what you look for. He returns his attention back to the notebook. His eyes still remains a hint of amusement. You want to dig a hole and jump in it.

Slowly rise up, you rub your eyes tiredly, and notice Albedo’s coat on your body. Did he put it on you? You glance at him curiously, trying to seek an explanation, but he remains quiet, focuses on the piece of paper. The sound of pencil rustling on the parchment eases you somehow, like waking up in a small cottage with your loved one.

“ What time is it? ” You let out a big yawn, voice thicks with sleep. His light coat somehow is warm. Maybe you should ask him where he got this.

“ It’s around 3.” Albedo mindlessly points out. “ You can sleep more. Put my coat on if you're cold.” He reminds.

“ I shouldn’t be sleeping longer. Let me help with your work so I can get back to Mondstadt on time.” You scratch your head, your body is numbing over the sheer cold. Throw on Albedo coat, you hope the thin layer can keep you warm a little bit longer. His coat smells like frost and Cecilia. Inside the pocket, you find a heating pack. Maybe this is what kept you warm when you were sleeping.

“ M almost finished.” The sound of paper rustling each time he turns a page. “I can accompany you back to the city.”

“ But I haven’t done anything?” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, hands folding at your chest, trying to saviour some warmth. “You’re sure you finished?”

“ Yes, just a few more retouches, then we can go back.” Albedo nods, his eyes still glued on the piece of paper. Abruptly, he stops and looks up at you, waving his hand, signalling you to get closer. Obediently, you walk toward him. When you are an arm-length from him, the man gestures at the chair put closely next to him. He wants you to sit down?

You sit down quietly, trying to take a look at the drawing he is working on. Hmm, is that you? Did he draw your sleeping form? On the paper is the portrait of you curl like a fetal, your long hair splaying on the floor. Each stroke of pencil depicts the gentleness you have in your face when you are sleeping. The drawing is mundane somehow, you feel comfortable and relax when looking at the piece.

Suddenly, you felt a warm hand slotting in your palm, elbow nudging yours. His slender digits are weaving tightly with your fingers, warmth tingling on the tips of your fingers. . Look up from the drawing, you see a tint of pink on his ears. So he can also get embarrassed.

“ You look cold.” He mumbles, eyes avoiding yours, his cheek flush furiously. “Sit closer.” You gladly shift closer, your hand and shoulder touching his. Albedo picks up the pencil and returns to his drawing. This time he turns to a new page, start to draw another specimen. Looking at the sketch, you guess he is trying to sketch the abandoned ruins. The comfortable silence envelopes the two of you.

Being so close to him, you can make out the whiff of fresh Cecilia and pine. Engulf by his coat and, now next sitting next to him, you are bathing under his signature scent. It would be nice if I could feel him more. Blushing at the thought, you try to push away those not-so-innocent thoughts. Obviously, he is trying to be a gentleman. You should be grateful, if not because of him, you're going to freeze to death.

Albedo is much warmer than you, his body radiating heat like a furnace after a while. Silently, you pick up a book you left here last time on the table. Most of his books are either textbooks or ancient language book about the alchemist, which you think you are qualified enough to read. Waiting for him in silence is a form of torture if you don’t do something. Your attention removes from his body and to the novel on your hand.

After what feels like two hours, Albedo finally puts down his pencil and stretches. His long limb knocks your hand a few times, your knees bump with his. He let out a tired yawn, cracking his knuckles.

“Finished?” Your eyes still glue on the thick book. You hear him let out a hum, his hand remove to clean up the mess on the table.

“ What are you having for dinner?” Albedo casually asks, hand dusting the enormous amount of eraser dust on the paper before dumping them in the trash. His voice wavers a little, but you aren't sure why.

“Hash brown and cream stew. I have a brownie for dessert.” You notice Albedo never makes small conversation like this. He is the type who would get straight to the point or request. Perc up from the book, you are faced with his back at you. He is arranging the bookshelves.

“Do… you want to join me for dinner? ” After it felt like a while, you finally break the silence, your voice laces with uncertainty. If you read the atmosphere wrong, it can cost you quite severely.

“Sure.” He shrugs nonchalantly, continues sorting the stacks of books on the ground. Somehow you can feel the tension in the air is lifted, and he seems more relaxed than before.

“These are some observations and speculations I made in the last few days in here.” The chief alchemist hands you a folder.

You flip through the files, they are mostly pictures and drawing of large camps of hilichurl. At the end of the file is a map marked with their locations. The Abyss Order's activity has increased rapidly in this month. Commissions have been sent out continuously, yet many of them haven’t been sorted out properly yet. It seems like the sheer cold of Dragonspine can't prevent their enthusiasm. On your ways here, you have met 4 more camps, hence the reason why you choose to be acquainted with the Fatui instead.

“I will give this to the Adventurer Guild. Thank you for this.” You exhale, fingers rubbing your eyes tiredly. The next few days are going to be very busy.

“If you are done, then pack up. We are going back.” He announces, returns his attention to pile on the ground. Fold the corner of the page, close the book, prepare the pack-up for the leave. You can’t wait to leave this devastating sheer cold and return back to the realm of fog and wind. Shuffling through your backpack, you put the art supplies Albedo asked you to buy on the table neatly. You didn't take anything out, so no need for packing. Basically, you are done.

“ Let’s go back.”

_____________________________________________________________

On the way back, you both walk in silence. Most of the camps are cleared, barrels and boxes shatter into tiny pieces scatter on the ground. Seem like our dear traveller has their job quite well. The place is almost spotless, even with the Fatui camp. You are impressed with their productivity.

It takes less than 2 hours walking back from Dragonspine, now that your bag is lighter. Walking comfortably next to Albedo, your hands grazing past each other a few times. You watch the sunset etches widely on the blushing hues orange sky in Dragonspine can be so romantic.

Suddenly feeling so motivated, you gently slip your index into his palm. Albedo freezes but still complies, his fingers caught your hand, slowly interlocking yours. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, heating creeping up your cheek. Shutting your eyes, you mumble incoherently something about how unfair life is.

He let out a breathy snicker, with your fingers interlock, sharing the heat in the harsh weather. Look up the fading orange, slowly disappear behind the layer of thick snow, you blow out warm air, fog gathers and dissipates in the air. Sunset in Dragonspine can be arguably one of the best scenes in Mondstadt.

“I’m going back to my office to put this away.” When you arrive at the gate, Albedo decides to head to the HQ of the Knight of Favonius. He motions at the package in his hand.

“ See you later at dinner.” Nonchalantly, he plants a kiss on your cheek, hand ruffles your hair a little bit before head off in the opposite direction.

You stand there, still trying to comprehend what just happened a few seconds ago. The peck on your cheek is too short, too light, like feather brushes. He can’t do this to you. Your cheek is blazing with fire, and if not careful, a spark can ignite an explosion right here. You turn your head sideways, trying to saviour and recall the feeling of his lips.

“ Tch tch.” The sound is coming from the nearby alley, the click-clack of boots coming closer. You whirl your head toward that direction, just to realize the source of the sound is all-mighty Calvary Captain of the Knight of Favonius.

“ Love is really in the air.” He comments sarcastic, hand waving around to shoo away those imaginable ‘love’.

“ Living this long, I have never thought I would be able to see our Alchemist Chief giving someone a goodbye kiss.” Kaeya smugs at you, his deep blue eyes gleaming with mischief. Oh, you really can't wait to wipe his shit-eating grin off his face.

“Stop being a drama queen, Kaeya.” You shot back. “ He gave Klee one too, don’t treat this as such an abnormal supernatural act.” Internally, you have to say that Albedo giving affection is kind of a supernatural incident too. Kaeya eyes at you like you grow another head, shaking his head.

“ You know what I meant.” The captain shrugs, his voice ringing with a hint of smugness.

The man suddenly walks closer, his gloved hand pats your shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Must have been really cold in Dragonspine for him to give you his coat.” He winks at you, his eyes slowly drag down your figure. You cautiously look down. Shit, you totally forget this.

“We have a meeting at 8 tomorrow at the HQ. Please tell him to not stay up too late.” The cryo user whistles teasingly, heading toward Angel Share, his hand waving in the air. Your face flushes furiously, smoke almost come off your burning face. Now you realize why people have been giving your pointed gazes when you first enter the gate. Damn it, Kaeya, it is not what you think it is.

#albedo x reader #genshin x reader #genshin albedo #genshin impact #genshin kaeya #fluff #hint #genshin headcanons #albedo kreideprinz #dragonspine

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batarella · 4 years

Text

3 birds 1 stone - chapter 1

‘Dick, Jason, and Tim. Supposed brothers 'till the end, until all three fall in love with you. Who wins your heart?

The man who earned it, the man who stole it, or the man who always had it?’

A/N: Having a different approach to my formats. I’ve never been so nervous in creating something so difficult to do for you guys, especially since I’m here writing about the THREE HOTTEST MEN IN THE PLANET. Hoes and bros, I present to you a very indecisive reader and three assholes in a WWE ring.

WORDS: 6483 WARNINGS: NONE

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

-----

You were there when it happened.

You didn’t want to be there.

But you were.

It would have been an eventful enough day, one of those you’d never live to forget, perhaps even in death. As dramatic as that would sound, it was true. The tears had already beaten you in awakening that dim morning and you knew it wasn’t in any way going to get any brighter, no matter how much of the sun was going to show up. You could, in detail, recall the sting in your muscles when you pulled on that bright orange dress, fixed your hair up in a bun and unenthusiastically put on your makeup. Bruce picked you up and you tried so hard to hide how you were practically dead on arrival to the Richard Grayson and Koriand’r Wedding.

Smiles. Even when they were uncalled for. It was so much more painful to do when it hurt every minute that ticked away, every second that carefully tore out every other smidge of hope you always thought there was. It was on you, then. For thinking there was any at all.

Kory looked stunning down that aisle, of course. Like all the other people in the room were rubbish. You couldn’t even watch her. Or him, standing at the end of that aisle with a smile so bright you wished was caused by anything else but her. But it was.

So you had your eyes closed. Or at least tried to.

Until it happened.

The sister. She looked exactly like Kori, except her flowing mane of hair was jet black and her skin burned red. Eyes were white, everything else she had on was dark. Blackfire.

Then the cheers turned into screams. Flower petals turned into broken glass. The fairy lights and décor turned into fire beams and lasers.

If it weren’t in a room full of superpowered heroes and vigilantes, they all would have died right then and there.

In the end, the wedding got called off. Everything was destroyed. Blackfire was sent to space prison and Dick and Kory had to reschedule the wedding.

Three months later, they still weren’t married.

After four months, Dick broke off their relationship entirely.

Five months passed, Kory went back to Tamaran.

At six months, Dick moved to Gotham from Bludhaven.

You never got to talk to Dick about it, or talk to him at all beyond the small exchanges and light conversations over the dinner table at the manor or the chatter by the fireplace. He never mentioned it. You didn’t want to pry. At times, you’d see how he’d stare at the carpet for a minute too long, how his knee suddenly stopped shaking or fidgeting all of a sudden when he got too deep into his thoughts like how he often did when he was bored, and how his laughs felt just a tad bit softer even when the jokes were hysterical.

Everyone told you to let him be for a while, since not even he could get too close to the subject. They told you what he was up to, how he was feeling that day. You tend to ask a lot. Because if there was anything worse than seeing him with someone else, it was seeing him almost destroy his own life part by part over the loss of his love.

No. You weren’t thrilled over what happened. It didn’t give you hope, or let your mind wander over the endless possibilities of what could happen to you, to him, to you both. And even if you had to try so hard, which you didn’t, you couldn’t possibly allow yourself to have some kind of satisfaction over the tragedy, not even when it supposedly served you, what you wanted.

This wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want him to lose himself. You didn’t want him to be sunken into an abyss he was trying so hard to come out of.

Eventually, you’ll learn to let go. Properly. On your own pace. Not on anyone else’s.

Almost a year since the incident happened. He was okay now. Made the same jokes he always used to. Brightened up every room he went to. Went out with a few women every now and then. Saying you were used to that last one to the point where it didn’t even bother you anymore was both unnerving and understandable.

Everything was lighter now. Better. Dick was okay.

So why were you so nervous today?

Two pm. He was going to arrive any minute.

Dammit. That canvas. Lying on the floor like you were some kind of slob in a swamp. You went over and placed it against the wall. Plop, it fell right off. Cursing and fixing it up against all the other canvases up in the corner, everything just started to topple down like fucking dominos. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

You grabbed all the canvases with as much as your arms could carry, frantically looked around your little studio for some kind of rope you could tie these together just so they wouldn’t explode in anyone’s face.

Ding.

“Shiiiii-“

The fucking doorbell, and you didn’t even have any arms to open the door with. You looked to your bedroom, then to your kitchen. Fuck. There was a drawer-shit, it fell to the floor-a drawer right by your bed. You scrambled with your knees shaking harder than the San Andreas fault.

Ding.

“Just a minute!!!”

You stacked them on top of each other, shoved them under your bed, then fixed the mess of a cobweb that was your hair. The mirror must have been kind to you ‘cause you could have sworn you looked like a hobo by now. But there wasn’t any time for that.

Foggy throat cleared, face calm and cool (you hoped), you ran to the door and shook off the nerves.

“Hi, Di-” The door slammed open, only for it to almost pull off the hinges with the chain lock still on. Frantically, you closed it , took off the lock, then swung it again.

“Hi.”

Dick had his hands in his pockets, jacket as blue as his eyes and as bright as the glimmer in its irises. His smile brought both calm and chaos within your veins.

“Sorry. I, uh-“ your thumb pointed to your apartment. “I was cleaning.”

Cleaning?

“That’s okay. Can I come in?”

Poor thing was shivering. “Of course!”

Dick stepped into your apartment and dusted off his clothes. You took his jacket. “Thanks.” Then he ran his long fingers along his black strands.

Putting his coat over the rack, you pulled out the pillows from your lounge chair. “Sit here.”

“It’s fine.” His smile lightened up the room. “Thank you though.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Just water. Thanks.”

While you went into the kitchen, fumbling with the glass and water pitcher from the fridge, you called out to him. “You can go ahead to my studio!”

“Thanks,” you heard him call you back, then you followed him into the room, handing him the glass.

You already had the paintings lined up for him. Three canvases. Sitting up against the wall in a laid back, almost effortless looking arrangement when in fact, it was a lot of effort. You didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard.

“Christ,” he walked over to the one in the middle. The most recent one you did, one of a birds eye view of the ocean right by the Gotham City docks. “How did you even get this shot?”

“I-uh,” you stood beside him. “It’s a shot from the Batwing. Bruce gave me the footage.”

“And that one?”

Times Square. The building was the only thing on the canvas, but there was so much detail on the windows, on the balconies, and even the neon lights right at the top.

“I took pictures from the street across. They wouldn’t let me stay there with an aisle and all my tools.”

His one knee laying on the ground, Dick took an even closer look at the tower. “Is that a person in the window?”

You looked down. “Yeah…”

“These are incredible.” Dick looked up at you. “I think I’d insult you if I tell you I’m surprised.”

“Well. It was your idea to focus on painting. The blames on you.”

“Nah,” he shook his head, marveling over the canvas. “This is natural talent right here.”

You wished you could bite back the smile as much as you would have liked, but at least his head was turned away.

“How much for these?”

“No. Actually,” you swallowed. “Those are just samples. I wanna make something for you from scratch. Really personalized, you know?”

“Seriously?”

You nodded. “Since you’re permanently moving back to the manor, I thought it would make a good welcome back present.”

His smile was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, looking over to you bashfully even when he’s most often the most confident person in the room. You smiled back, but you doubt it was as addicting to watch as his own.

“If it’s not too much trouble-“

“Not at all.”

“I’m really liking this one, though,” He pointed at the third one. One of Bludhaven. From a shot of the city he sent to you himself. Most of the time, you had to work with pictures, and the moment he sent that to you, you just knew you had to paint it. Not for him. For you.

“I’ll make you another one.”

“Y/N-“

“And you don’t have to pay-“

“That, I won't agree to.”

“Dick, it’s a present.”

“This is my way of supporting you. Artists should never do this for free.”

When he placed his hand on your shoulder, you knew there wasn’t any use arguing. He didn’t even know. He’s given you so much support no monetary value could compare to. You didn’t need money.

That, or he didn’t think this present was anything more than a favor or an item to purchase. It shouldn’t be. You knew that. And still you wanted it to be more than that.

Yeah. You were probably making a goof out of yourself if you wouldn’t submit.

This wasn’t a rejection. Telling yourself that should make you feel better.

“Thank you.”

You didn’t look into his eyes when he started walking around the room, at all the other paintings you had laid out. You had a few portraits. One of Bruce, from when he asked you to do one for him a month ago and you still hadn’t finished until now. Who knew his usual scowl was so hard to do? Then there were more landscapes of the city.

“Gotham’s your muse, huh?”

“She’s beautiful when she isn’t so full of shit,” you laughed.

One of more skyscrapers that you laid out to look like Van Gogh’s Starry Night. Another of your works in progress. “I like this one.”

You were right behind Dick as he walked around, taking closer looks at each of them. A few drawings were up on the walls.

“Is that us?”

You went over to his side. “Yeah… It’s a painting I want to do.”

A rough sketch of the whole family. Bruce standing at the top most of the manor’s grand staircase. Dick on the step below. Then Jason leaning against the railing, the only one who wasn’t smiling. Tim sitting with his knees up. Barbara looking beautiful in a bright smile on the same step as Tim. Then Steph sitting on the railway. You standing right beside Steph, arm wrapped around her. Cass with her arms crossed. Duke at the bottom . Then of course, the kid who practically owned the whole manor, little Damian on the ground, at the center with a smug grin and his arms up his chest.

Even if people were to take a second look, they’d think you were a normal, functional family.

“This,” Dick’s jaw was on the ground. “Deserves to be up in the fireplace.”

You snorted. “I haven’t even started on it yet.”

“Oh, I don’t mean the painting. This drawing alone is fantastic.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thank you.”

Biting his lips, he had that same simper of disbelief radiating through even more compliments you couldn’t answer to. You let it get to you. For a while.

It wasn’t exactly going to get any better.

Though your definition of better, shouldn’t be at there all.

“Y/N, I can’t thank you enough.”

You held up your hand. “You’ve been gone from home for too long. I’m just glad your back.”

He walked down to the three paintings you had out for him. “So these paintings are just samples?”

“Yeah. I wanna know which kind you prefer, since you only asked of one of the city. It can be neither of them. Just something that you actually want in your room.”

“Y/N, these are all so amazing as it is.”

“Still.”

Were you doing too much? Were you asking too much? Were you giving too much?

Most fucking probably.

But then he gave you that smile again, the one you dream about for years. One that’s driven you to do so many good things, for others and for yourself.

Your response was with a smile of your own, though it carried with it some remnant of pain from his wedding day.

“So… which one would you like?”

He looked at the paintings again.

“Bludhaven. I guess it would be nice to have some part of it in my room.”

You nodded. “Of course.”

“Trust me. Don’t feel any pressure. I can promise myself this will be the best thing ever.”

Your eyes were stuck to your feet, because if you looked up at his own, you weren’t sure what you might end up saying.

“Thank you. It means a lot. Coming from you.”

His eyebrows were up to his forehead. “Really? I don’t think there’s anyone who doesn’t like your work.”

Yeah. But it’s not the same when it’s coming from you, you asshat.

“I’ll uh-“ You rushed over to your sketchbooks, pulled out your pencil and went over beside Dick. He was smiling at you. “What do you think about the skyline looking like this? Like it was taken from eastern bay.”

You did a quick outline of skyscrapers and a bridge extending to one side, a lone island and clouds on top of it. He nodded. “That looks great.”

“Alright,” you looked up, saw the slight lines at the corners of his eyes and the even more miniscule details on his face that was staring back at you.

“Nice sketchbook.”

“Oh,” you grinned at it, looking over the knitted covers and the expensive looking paper that had hundreds of leaves within its spine. “Thank you. I get one of these every year.”

“You buy them yourself?”

“I don’t. They’re way too expensive.” You placed it on the table. “I get them as a gift.”

“From who?”

“I, uh...” you didn’t want to get into this. “Anyway, would you like to stay over?”

Dick shook his head. “I’d love to, but I have to get going. Some other errands to run. Sorry.”

You nodded. “Of course.”

Hands fidgeting, then stopping when you realized they were fidgeting, Dick stood in front of you and beamed with his million dollar smile. You tried not to look back up at him.

“How are you, Y/N?”

You chuckled. “I’m okay.”

“We’d all love for you to come back to the manor…” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Lips in your teeth, he didn’t look like he was expecting much of a response other than a bashful smile and a shake in your head.

“I mean… I’d love for you to come back to the manor.”

Eyebrows up, you stared back at him. “You would?”

“Of course. It’s been a long since we just hung out. Stop over every once in a while.”

“I, uh-“ you swallowed. “I actually do have to go there next week. Bruce is asking me to send over his pieces.”

“Cool. I’ll see you then.”

You went with him to the door, watched him put on his jacket. “I’ll call”

“Come on, don’t act like I’m some stranger, Y/N.”

It was sad, how casual it was when he pulled you with his arms. His embrace wasn’t so tight, but it was warm. Nose stuck to his shoulder and masking your other raging emotions with a light laugh, you closed your eyes and let the split second last longer than it actually did.

Yeah. You still had it bad. No matter what you seemed to do, it just wouldn’t go away.

He swayed about, patting your back. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And,” he pointed his hand at you, then scrunched it up to a fist. “Send me a list of movies you wanna watch. We’ll go through a few of them at the manor. Like we used to.”

“With everyone else?”

“Nah,” he placed his hands in his pockets. “Just us.”

He walked out the door. You closed it behind him and placed the chain lock back.

That encounter lasted ten, fifteen minutes?

It felt both longer and shorter than that. Like a thousand years and a millisecond were the same length.

You were just thankful you didn’t mess up or do anything as embarrassing as you worried it might be.

But it wasn’t as if it was new, or that the nerves and the chills and the blood rushing about was anything you weren’t already used to. Careful around him, sure. You had been since you first met him. But terrified? Nah.

You can be so used to walking around coals and fire and not be afraid of getting burned, yet still have it in you to wear something to protect your skin. Just for the sake of surviving. To get through it smoothly. So it wouldn’t hurt as much.

You slumped onto the lounge chair he didn’t take and closed your eyes. You let the hours pass. You let the clock tick away.

Then you jumped at the buzzing in your pocket. Blinking away the beginnings of a nap, you took your phone.

“Tim?”

“Y/N. You free tonight?”

Two hours had passed since Dick left.

“Yeah. What are you up to?”

“Work. I need company.”

“You sure Bruce is okay with you not going to patrol?”

“He has everyone else. Come on. I’m spending the night at the office.”

“Why me?“

“You can bring your sketchbook. ‘Sides. You haven’t been out of the house for a while.”

“The pictures you send me are good enough source material.”

“You draw a lot better when you’re seeing it with your own eyes.”

Standing from your chair and moving over to get your sketchbook and pencils, you scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know where to meet me.”

He hung up, then you scurried around to get your coat.

-----

“Ms. Y/LN.”

You nodded at the doorman, bag over your shoulder. A number of people were already rushing out of the elevators even when it had only been a minute after office hours, so you had to wait a while before an empty one came down for you.

50th floor. A few minutes of silence in the elevator, then you walked out into a dimmed-out hallway where the other employees had already deserted. The farthest end was a door, unlocked just as Tim said. You stepped inside his office and shrugged yourself off your jacket. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Tim had his reddening eyes glued to his laptop screen, not even giving you a glance up. Tapping away at the keys, you stretched out and basked in the blowing warmth, at the heater that was running at the side. Holding your hands up at the whiff of air, Tim fell to the back of his seat.

“Christ, my back.”

You snickered. “We do tend to get arthritis even when we’re barely into our twenties.”

“No. We usually don’t.”

“Not if you’re Tim Drake.” You walked over to his desk. “What are you working on?”

“Stuff that Bruce shouldn’t be asking from me in two days. A report on why and how we’ll be able to extend to the west coast, if it’s even possible.”

“Wow. Are you endorsing it?”

“I invented it.”

You brushed back the hair he hadn’t even noticed had fallen into his eyes. One of the reasons why it was almost bulging red. Your exhausted best friend took your hand away and snarled, though it wasn’t without a smirk.

“Then quit complaining. If it’s your idea, it’s your job.”

“I complained about back pains, not the work.”

You leaned back against the table and watched him type.

“Are you really spending the night here?”

“As long as I have to. Then I head back to the manor.”

“And you want me to stay?”

He stopped typing and looked up at you, eyes wide. “Please.”

“Fine.”

You settled yourself on the couch near his desk. “What have you been working on lately?” he asked.

Shrugging, your eyes were on the ceiling. “The portraits for Bruce, mostly. And the portrait of Bruce.”

“I assume that must be dreadful.”

“It’s hard painting his jaw and not give away the fact that he has Batman’s jaw.” You held your hand out. “You just need to cover his eyes and squint. And boom, his identity’s given away. Can’t do that in person but you certainly can to a painting he wants on his foyer that everybody’s gonna see.”

“I never actually thought Bruce wants that.”

“Neither did I.”

“What are his other requests?”

“One of Thomas and Martha. One of the manor.”

“The man wants a painting of the manor in the manor?”

“Yup.”

“When you have the money, I guess.”

“I know. He’s paying me five months’ worth of rent.”

Tim rubbed on the corner of his eye, his hands hovering motionless over his keyboard for a second. You looked over to him.

“You don’t have to, you know. If you just move back with us.”

“I know.”

“You sure you don’t want to? With Dick around now?”

Mouth ever so slightly curving up the side, a long breath escaped your nostrils. “I’m over him.”

“You sure about that?”

When you turned back up to the ceiling, closed your eyes while you had your arms hugging your chest, you heard him tapping on his keyboard after a few seconds of you not answering his question.

“He came over to your house today?”

“Yeah. I’m doing a piece for him.”

“What of?”

“Bludhaven. For his room.”

“Welcome back gift, ey?”

“Yeah. I hope he likes it.”

It almost seemed like he snorted at that. “He’d be stupid not to. I was also gonna ask you to do a piece for me.”

Your eyebrow raised even with your eyes closed. “Really?”

“Yeah. For my office.”

“Tim, I’m doing just fine. I’m not exactly surrounded by butlers and limos but it doesn’t mean I’m struggling.”

“Hey, don’t take it that way,” he said. “We all just love your work.”

“A bit too much, if you ask me.”

“You get better everyday. We’re appreciating it just enough. Like how you deserve to be appreciated.”

You didn’t take that to heart.

This painting all started as a way to let out the trauma, to get out of a life that had taken its toll on you the worst way it possibly could.

This was them feeling bad for you. This was a charity.

It didn’t, however, mean you were going to say no.

You hated it, but you weren’t stupid enough to refuse the cash. You liked having nice things.

“What piece would you like me to do?”

“Your call. You know what I like.”

‘Almost everything then, that’s what you wanted to say back.

A while of lounging around on the couch. A few hours, perhaps. You might have taken a nap, because your head had gone foggy and your eyes were salty when you awoke and the sky had gone completely dark.

“Tim, you should take a break.”

Was that his third cup of coffee sitting on his desk?

Again, with his hair covering his eyes, he had his one hand over his lips, eyes narrowed onto the blue screen that looked painful staring back at him so brightly. He sighed, then rubbed his eyelids with his fingers.

“Come on.” You took his jacket and threw it at him. “Take me up the balcony. Get some air.”

He looked too exhausted to speak. But after you’d gone over to his side and pushed his shoulder, he hissed and closed his laptop. “Fine, jeez.”

Tim looked like a polar bear pulled out of his iceberg when you had him off his desk. He shuffled into his coat, then you both walked out of the room and into the elevators. You held onto your sketchbook and a few pencils.

The balcony at the 70th floor. You haven’t been there for a while. You actually haven’t been in Wayne Tower the past few months at all. So when you stepped out, walked down the hall until you reached the balcony, the heights, the winds, the lights, and the stuttering noises went straight through you, gave you that static-like image that usually resonated within your senses when you sketched out Gotham City.

You sat on the marble railing, swung your legs up on the ledge and placed your sketchbook against your knees.

“You sure you wanna do that?”

You rolled your eyes. “Stop acting like I didn’t use to jump across rooftops.”

Tim was stifling a laugh, not sure if he should. So you pulled out an empty page and started with LexCorp a few blocks away from you. Tim went to sit next to you, then pressed his back against yours while pulling his feet up the same position. He was warm, leverage enough so your back wouldn’t end up hurting after a few minutes. He let you have your silence.

A wide balcony. Half of the page should be of it alone. Though it was just the silhouette, you traced out how the railings looked like if you were standing a few feet back.

Your head tilted to the left the way it does when you went on with your work.

You felt Tim’s back rise, then slowly soften.

“You alright back there?”

“Yeah. I am.”

“You don’t feel like it.”

“I am.” You felt his shoulder slightly brush against yours. You just shook it off then let the edge of the pencil flow lightly over what should be the sky.

A few more minutes, then a helicopter flew over your heads. When it went away, Tim’s head suddenly fell back to your shoulder.

Warmth. Like what he’s always given you. You stayed as still as you could and let the smile that was eventual and gradual creep up your lips.

“You’ll fall off if you fall asleep on me.”

“I think all that coffee’s not going to make me fall asleep for the next few days.”

Laughing, you just let him lean against you. then his head shifted so he was looking over your shoulder.

“That’s looking good.”

“You think?” You held up the notebook. “That’s us.”

Two kids sitting on the railings, with the view of the city right at their feet. Backs up against each other, shaded with the darkest black. The girl was leaning against the boy’s shoulder, quite the opposite of what was actually going on.

You felt Tim smile his mouth off. “Can I have that?”

“Hold on. Lemme finish this.”

The bat signal. Shining right at the horizon. Then you went over more of the details. The tiny lights on the windows. The helicopter that just passed by. The ocean far off.

Tim was watching you.

Not your hand. Or the drawing.

You.

A few more minutes, then you carefully ripped the page off the book. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

He folded it up, then carefully put it into his pocket. Then he placed his head against your shoulder again.

You did the same.

“I missed you.”

You laughed. “It’s not like we don’t see each other often.”

“I know. I miss seeing you everyday.”

Your head up at the sky, heart in your throat.

“Me too…”

Then you found yourself closing your eyes.

Legs dangling off the ledge on opposite sides, you both spent the next hour in silence, leaning against each other.

You and Tim on the rooftops. Just the two of you. Laughing. Sharing a drink. Doing homework even.

They were always the best times.

“Shit,” he looked at the time on his phone. “Come on. If I can finish half of it in three hours, we might actually get to go back to the manor to get some sleep.”

“Tim-“

“Just a night,” he slipped off onto the ground, then everything felt so much colder around you. “Please. Everyone’s out anyway.”

You shut your eyes.

But even when you expected yourself to decline, you ended up nodding and sliding your torso to turn back towards the building, . “Fine. But only because you’re taking me- Fuck…”

You moved too fast. You fucking moved too fast. Shit.

“Y/N, don’t move-“

Tim rushed to your legs, held his hands over the back of yours that was touching the metal where flesh and skin was supposed to be.

You tried to flinch away how you always do when someone does so much as lay a finger on you or your fucking limb when it was uncalled for, but Tim’s hands were soft and gentle. And you were also 70 stories above ground so jumping away wouldn’t be the best idea.

“Tim, I’m fine-“

“Let me help.”

“I’m fine… shit…”

Stinging nerves, all the way up your thigh when you tried to move it yourself. That’s when Tim ignored you and went ahead to hold it himself.

It was too late into the night for you to argue. So you pulled your hands away and let him slide your leg over the railing, dangling it onto the edge towards him.

“May I?”

Now facing him, both legs hanging just inches away from the ground, you placed your weight on your hands and nodded.

Tim knelt in front of you, then pulled your loose jeans up to your knee.

You felt disgusted at yourself, and you hated how he wasn’t, hands over the silver steel that replaced your skin, at the rods and wires that replaced your bones, where tiny stubs of metal stuck out in place of actual toes. You held your breath, then Tim looked up at you, hands soothing just below your knee.

He didn’t look like he pitied you. There was that.

That, or he just mastered the art of hiding his pity and instead, look at you like he was just trying to take care of you.

Which he was. You weren’t about to rob him of that credit.

Tim unlatched the bionic limb, then pulled it off of what was left of your leg. A stub of skin, where it had healed about three inches down from your knee, was burning red.

“Must have caused a bit of stress.”

You shrugged. “I’ll be fine. It happens a lot.”

Tim’s fingers over the marks of pink, you felt how gentle he was, the callous that had formed over the years, at the warmth that came with his palms rubbing over your skin. Your eyes were all on him.

Then he looked up at you, without stopping his hands.

Another set of blue eyes, quite different from the last pair you saw earlier that day. Though it must have been because of the dark, his reflected the light from the city skyline just a bit better.

Tim looked at you the same way he always did for years. It didn’t make your skin fluster, or your stomach churn.

You felt at home.

You smiled at him, then he smiled back before he looked back down at your leg.

Tim was the only one you’d ever let do this.

After a longer while of massaging your knee, he placed the bionic leg back into place and latched it up.

“Try moving it around.”

This limb costed millions of dollars and only you had a robot leg as good as fucking Cyborg’s, and still it pained when you moved two seconds too fast. You moved your toes about, swayed your ankle. Still with a slight sting, but you could brush it off. Tim pulled your jeans back down and helped you off the railing.

He didn’t speak much on the way down back to his office, and he let you have your nap on his couch for a few more hours while he worked away.

Though, you couldn’t exactly sleep.

You weren’t sure if you were bothered, anxious, or pleased, and you hated how you still considered that last one.

It was in the way he looked at you, touched you so gently. You could tell. You could definitely tell. You told Tim years ago to promise you that he’d stop. And he said he would. Turns out he couldn’t keep that promise.

Tim still loved you.

Carefully, without him noticing, you looked back over your shoulder and watched him crouch over his laptop the way that was going to strain his back for the next three months. And you weren’t sure if you liked that it made you smile, when you took too much time watching his eyes and his lips and even his nose scrunching up like a rabbit’s.

You’d think years after you decided to be just friends, and ended up being best friends would let you both move on completely. He dated Steph for a while, even. And still, he wasn’t friends with her now the way he was with you.

It wasn’t at all awkward. It didn’t have to be.

But maybe it wasn’t for the reason you thought.

The sketchbook. The really expensive one you always used up after a few months. It costed about a hundred dollars per piece, and you get one every single year along with other art materials like charcoal pencils and canvases and paint.

And they always arrived right at your door every Valentine’s morning.

No name. No tag.

You thought it was from Bruce at first, like how he continued to spoil you with just about everything else with commissions and pieces he didn’t even need but claimed to want for his new mantle at the office or a wall in one of his condos.

But it was all too intimate and personal.

After the third year, you found out it was from him.

You could tell with how it was all wrapped and carefully arranged. Only from his hands, and how gentle they can be when he held you…

You fell asleep on that couch, clutching the sketchbook to your chest.

----

It was past five in the morning when Tim finally stood up from his desk. You were well into your sleep, then you felt his hand on your shoulder, shrugging you awake.

“Huh?”

“Come on. Let’s get some sleep at the manor.”

Groaning into the couch’s fabric, Tim took fifteen minutes pulling you to stand until he finally got you on your feet. He helped you with your coat, then on the taxi home you fell asleep on his shoulder, and he fell asleep with his cheek on your head.

You got to the manor, stretched out, then just as the sun had fully greeted you, you both walked into the foyer. Alfred was still freshly awoken.

“Master Tim, where on earth have you been?”

“The office.”

“The off- never mind. Miss Y/N, I’m happy to see you.”

“Hey Alfred,” you yawned and gave the butler a hug.

“Will you be sleeping in your room?”

“Yes please.”

He nodded, then you and Tim walked over to the steps.

“Wait.” You backed away. “I want water. You go ahead.”

The zombie that was Tim Drake didn’t even turn his head to you as he lugged himself up the stairs. You dragged your feet to the kitchen, stretching out your arms. It was way too fucking early for this.

You reached into the fridge and grabbed the ice-cold pitcher of water, held up an empty glass, then poured it in.

You brought the glass up to your lips.

You closed the fridge door.

Then felt the freezing cold surge up your nose, your eyes pop open from the crust and saltiness that had formed over your eyelids, then your throat started to close up and you coughed the water out of your hacking mouth.

“J-Jason?”

A towel covered his face when he first walked in, which meant his arm was up and his muscles were flexing when his bulked up bare chest was practically screaming into your eyes. Eight pack abs. Pecs stronger than steel. Ripples on his sides. And his fucking arms that could tear apart a block of wood in one pull.

It was too much of a convenience that he was rubbing the sweat off his hair so much that he couldn’t see you with your jaw on the ground. Every muscle in your body tightened, screamed, then just as Jason looked up at you, drenched hair flopping onto his eyes, you immediately looked away and pretended your own throat wasn’t choking you right then.

He walked towards you. Fuck.

“Hey, pretty bird.”

That low, husky voice…

You nodded. “H-hey,” you choked. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?”

You drank the whole glass in one gulp, then you opened the fridge once again to pour in even more water.

“I came with Tim. I was with him in the office.”

“Oh,” he leaned against the counter right beside you, and all your eyes that were fucking defying you right then could look at were the veins popping out of his biceps.

“Why are you here?”

He pouted. “I always train this early.”

“You come here all the way from your apartment at five in the morning?”

“Since a few days ago, yeah.”

“Why?”

He scoffed. “No gym on earth has Bruce’s equipment.”

“Ah.” You went through the whole glass again. The sweat was starting to pour down his chest.

Placing it onto the kitchen counter just inches away from Jason’s body, you were practically floating out of the kitchen. As fast as you could. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“Bye, pretty bird.”

Up the stairs. Into your old room. Away from anyone else.

You fell to your bed, but you couldn’t sleep a single wink.

And you weren’t even sure why.

Or who.

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galahadwilder · 3 years

Text

Greater Need Than Mine

Merry Christmas @callmequoteman @sweetmeatdale! I was your Lovesquare Obsessed Secret Santa. And I do know what you like. 😁

Have some angsty/fluffy hurt/comfort Adrigaminette!

“Please don’t scream,” Adrien says, his hands up, his voice desperate. He’s standing in the middle of his room, hunched, like a cornered animal. Like he’s going to bolt out the window at any moment.

“I do not scream,” Kagami says, which is true. She doesn’t. That does not mean that her composure is not quietly shattering inside her, her ribs breaking apart. This is the last thing she expected to see when she walked into her boyfriend’s room—and yet it makes so much sense. Why he’s always so distant. Why he keeps disappearing on her whenever there’s an Akuma attack. It even clears up the “other girl/Marinette” issue—of course it’s not Marinette, at least now.

Adrien is still looking at her like she’s about to explode—and, to be fair, she just might. But she would never be so gauche as to explode onto him—no, this will be an internal explosion, one that will leave no mess on anyone and she can contemplate later.

“Are you okay?” Adrien says.

“I am fine,” Kagami lies.

“Oh no. I know that look.” Adrien steps forward, reaching for her hand. “You need a minute?”

Kagami looks at the tiny black cat floating next to his shoulder. “What does yours eat?” she says.

Adrien swallows. “Cheese,” he says. “Really smelly cheese.”

It goes like this:

After 27 Mister Pigeons and 12 Mister Rats, Paris has stopped taking attacks from Xavier Ramier seriously. Oh, Ladybug and Chat Noir still show up for every battle, simply because that is what they do. But with each attack, Ramier has been less and less violent, less and less dangerous, to the point where he’s basically an inconvenience. Kagami didn’t even bother rescheduling her date.

When she’d arrived at the Agreste Manor, Nathalie had let her right in. She’d gone up to Adrien’s room, knocked on the door, and when she heard no answer, assumed he must’ve been in the shower or something. (He did that a lot.)

Instead, when she opened the door, she found Chat Noir, his ring down to one pad and blinking. One second later, he was flashing green. One second after that…

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Adrien says.

“I would be disappointed in you if you had,” Kagami says. She’s sitting on his couch, clutching her jacket closed with shaking hands. Her chest feels cold, like her windpipe is freezing all the way up her neck. “Do you remember what Ladybug told me when I revealed mine?”

Adrien hangs his head. “Yeah,” he says. He gathers up a blanket, carefully draping it around her shoulders. “I didn’t mean for you to find out.”

“You weren’t careful,” Kagami snaps, and then her stomach immediately drops out because that is not the right thing to say, and not at all the impression she meant to give. She can see the hurt in Adrien’s eyes from her words.

“You’re right,” he says, despondent. “I—I wasn’t.”

She swallows through chattering teeth. She’s hurt him, again, and she wants to make this right but she doesn’t know how. “You are… my hero,” she forces out.

He looks up at her, blinks. “It’s—” He glances down at his hand. “It’s just the ring.”

Kagami shakes her head. “Is it the choker that makes me special?” she says. “I was chosen to be Ryuko for a reason. You were chosen for something far greater.”

“I keep trying to tell him,” the tiny cat rasps. “Kid never believes me.”

Adrien smiles, but then his whole body droops. “I’ll… understand if you want to break up with me.”

“Break up with—!” Kagami takes a deep breath, clutching the blanket around herself. “I—no, of course not!” She suppresses a shiver as she reaches out to touch Adrien’s cheek, unable to ignore the clamminess of skin on skin. “Adrien, I am proud of you.”

He shivers, closing his eyes, and a single tear squeezes from between his lids.

Kagami needs to talk to someone about this. Usually she keeps everything bottled up—she’s never really had anyone to talk to, even in Osaka (she always had trouble relating to people her own age, and her mother has never really been the “motherly” type). But ever since she came to France, that has changed. France is where she met Adrien, yes, but it is also where she met Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

She’d texted Marinette as soon as her time with Adrien was over, barely able to hold herself together, and as soon as Marinette had given her a location she’d bolted for the Trocadero.

It’s not a long run—definitely not a sprint, but not so long that she has to walk. Still, her whole body is on fire from exertion when she gets to the Trocadero and sees the familiar pink pants and black pigtails of the girl sitting on the steps.

Marinette looks up from her sketching, sees Kagami, and immediately leaps to her feet with a delighted beam. “Kagami!” she says, running up and throwing herself into a hug. “Everything okay?”

“I… don’t know,” Kagami says, suppressing a shiver at the touch. She likes Marinette, she likes Marinette’s enthusiasm and willingness to touch, even if has trouble with touch herself. “It’s… it should be a good thing, but…”

Marinette pulls back and raises an eyebrow. “This sounds like something that would be easier to talk about over juice,” she says.

Kagami is eternally thankful for Marinette. Even though they are both in love with the same boy, Marinette has only briefly held that against her, and what could have been the beginning of a horrific rivalry had instead grown into the best friendship Kagami has ever had. But Kagami can still see how Marinette hurts whenever they talk about Adrien, whenever Kagami talks to her about her boyfriend problems, and she feels guilty, like brackish water all the way down into her soul. But Marinette has been nothing but understanding, and right now Kagami needs the help.

Once they have their juice, Marinette sits Kagami down at an outside table under one of those thick canvas parasols. “Okay, talk to me,” she says. “What’s up?”

Kagami holds her cup in both hands, staring at it, unable to meet Marinette’s eyes. “I… discovered a secret of Adrien’s,” she begins, haltingly. “I did not intend to, but.”

“And now you’re mad at him,” Marinette says, sipping at her juice.

“I—No!” Kagami says. “He was protecting me, and I—it’s a secret I should not even know!”

Marinette halts mid-sip. “Protecting you?”

Kagami opens her mouth to speak, then halts. “I—I cannot say anymore without breaching his trust.”

Marinette nods as if she understands, which is a bit of a surprise for Kagami. She sort of expected her to push a little further. “Okay, so, first step is to categorize your emotions,” Marinette says, listing them on her fingers. “You’re scared that you know, mad at him for keeping it from you, also mad at him for letting you find out. What else?”

Kagami wants to object. She’s not angry at Adrien! Not at all! But—Marinette’s words are striking home in a way that she did not expect. Maybe… maybe she is.

She needs a moment to think, to process. She puts her lips to her straw, takes a sip, lets the sweet and cold orange juice splash into her mouth. Adrien is Chat Noir. Is she angry at him? For continually leaving her while on dates? For not telling her? For throwing himself into danger over and over again, so recklessly, for dying and dying and dying?

Yes. Yes she is.

“Perhaps… perhaps I am,” she begins, placing her drink back on the table. “But, I am also… proud of him. For the things he does.”

Marinette’s eyes narrow. “Did he tell you about Aspik?”

Kagami blinks. “What is Aspik?” she says.

Marinette stares at her, incredulous, eyes wide. “I. Um. Nothing?” she offers, weakly. “Don’t—don’t worry about it?”

“Is Adrien keeping other things from me?” Kagami says.

Marinette’s face goes white. “Is… is everything okay?”

Kagami looks down at her feet. “I…” Ice rises in her throat. “I do not know.”

“Adrien, what is ‘Aspik?’” Kagami says.

Astounding. She can actually hear Adrien freeze over the phone—the way his breath stops. She briefly muses over the idea that she might’ve just killed him.

“Who told you about Aspik?” he says.

“Adrien—” she begins.

He cuts her off. “I’ll tell you in a minute, just—Kagami, this is really important. Only two people know about that. Who told you?”

“...Marinette?”

“Oh God.” Adrien is breathing heavy, the speaker crackling in her ear with every exhalation. “Oh my—oh my God. It’s—no. No way. I can’t believe—”

Kagami grimaces as she fights down a wave of irritation. “Adrien. Explain, please.”

He breathes in. “Okay,” he says. “Um. Do you remember a few months back when we cut fencing to go hang out at Luka’s, and Jagged Stone came over?”

Kagami thinks back. That was a while ago. “He’d… fired his guitar player, correct?”

“Yeah,” Adrien says. “Anyway she got Akumatized, and, um. Ladybug didn’t know I was Chat Noir. Still doesn’t.”

Kagami is not sure she likes where this is going.

“She asked me to wield the Snake Miraculous.”

“And you accepted?” Kagami gasps.

“What was I supposed to say, no?” Adrien hisses back. “She needed me.”

“She needed you as Chat!” Kagami snaps back.

“Easy to say in hindsight!” Adrien replies. He breathes in, slowly, then back out. “Anyway, it was… bad.”

Kagami’s eye twitches. “How bad?”

“I was stuck in a time loop for three months. We kept losing, and I kept… resetting, and…” He trails off with a sob.

“No wonder you were so tired when you got back to the boat,” Kagami murmurs. She remembers that day now. How broken Adrien had seemed at the end of it, for reasons she’d never been able to place. It makes more sense now, a horrifying kind of sense.

“I am… sorry,” she says. The words aren’t enough to convey the vast feeling inside her, the sympathy she has for him, the horror she feels at what he was forced to endure. “If I had known…”

“Gami, it’s—it’s okay,” Adrien says. “You weren’t supposed to. I mean—I’m the one who didn’t tell you.”

Kagami wishes she could stop being mad at him about that. She understands why he did it, she’d be disappointed if he told her, so why is she so hurt that he’s been keeping things from her? Those things needed to be kept from her.

“Kagami, only two people ever knew that I wore the snake,” Adrien says. “And one of them was Luka.”

“Who is the other?”

Adrien is silent for a moment. “Ladybug. Ladybug is.”

Kagami’s skin begins to crawl as she realizes what Adrien is saying. Everything—everything matches. The hair. The height. The eyes. The fire. Oh, Kami, Ladybug is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

All the breath is driven from her lungs, and she is left gasping, grasping, for air. She remembers the way she felt the first time Ladybug touched her, the first time Marinette spoke to her, the way her heart caught fire. Ladybug—Marinette—is the most incredible person she’s ever met, and. And…

And Adrien feels the same way.

Kagami’s body goes cold as she realizes what she has to do. “Chat Noir has always been in love with Ladybug,” she says, her voice kept level to keep the tears out of it. “You are in love with Ladybug.”

“Kagami, I—” Adrien begins to protest.

She doesn’t let him finish. “Adrien, Marinette is in love with you.” If she doesn’t do this now, she’s never going to. Don’t hesitate. “She always has been.”

Adrien is silent for a moment. “Gami?” he says, finally, his voice weak.

“You should be with her,” Kagami says, trying not to cry. This is the most difficult thing she’s ever done, but it is the unquestionably the right thing to do. She should never have stood between them.

“Gami, don’t—”

She hangs up. She can’t bear to hear another word.

She opens up her texting app, rejecting a call from Adrien in the process, and shoots a message to Marinette. He’s all yours. Be good to him.

She doesn’t see a response before she shuts the phone off.

It’s only once she is alone, in her bedroom, that she breaks down. She buries her face into her pillow and, for the first time in a long time, begins to cry.

There’s no dignity to this, no elegance—it’s messy, wet and snotty and blubbery. She’s completely falling apart, her whole body wracked with sobs, and all she wants to do is curl up under her covers and fall asleep and not wake up for a week.

She can’t. She has to get up. She has to move.

She stands up, swipes the tears from her face with her blanket, and throws open her closet. Her sabers are in there, in her bag. She unzips it, draws one, and falls into stance.

This is better. This is much better. She slashes, advances, retreats, parries against a shadow opponent, practicing every move, every step. She doesn’t have to stop. She doesn’t have to think. She doesn’t have to be aware of what she’s lost if all she’s aware of is her body, the blade in her hand.

Parry. Riposte. Strike. Don’t think about Adrien’s laugh.

Advance. Retreat. Strike. Don’t think about the sunlight through Marinette’s hair.

Feint. Advance. Strike. Don’t think about both of their hands in yours. How warm you feel when they—

The knock at her window comes all too soon. And of course it’s at her window, Adrien is a superhero, why would he go in the front when he could take a shortcut? She sighs, resting the blade against her shoulder, and shuffles over to the window. “Adrien, you shouldn’t be here—” she begins, throwing open the window—only for her words to catch in her throat like a too-big apple in her esophagus as she sees, not Chat Noir, but Ladybug.

The mask hides it well—covers all the puffiness—but it’s evident from the bloodshot in Ladybug’s eyes that she’s been crying, or at least trying not to. “May I come in?” she says.

Kagami, unsure of what to say, steps back and gestures.

Ladybug clambers through the window. “So, um,” she says. “Marinette told me to check on you, said you might be—”

“Marinette-sama,” Kagami interrupts. “I know it’s you.”

Ladybug freezes. “I—what?” she says.

“I know that Marinette is Ladybug,” Kagami says. “You don’t have to keep pretending.”

“No, but see, I, ah!” Ladybug’s hands pinwheel around her face, grasping at cheeks, chin, forehead, the way Marinette always does when she’s surprised. “I don’t—I don’t know what—what you’re balking atout?”

Kagami simply raises an eyebrow.

“Marinette is a comtepely differep terson!” Ladybug ejects. Her consonants are getting scrambled. What Adrien has always referred to as “word salad,” for reasons Kagami doesn’t quite understand, and never once has Ladybug done it that Kagami is aware of. If she weren’t sure before, she certainly is now.

Ladybug stares at her, her eyes wide and quivering. “Listen, Marinette asked—Marinette asked—Marinette—”

Kagami steps forward and takes her hand. “Marinette. Please. Don’t.”

Ladybug chokes. “How did you—”

“Aspik,” Kagami says.

Ladybug’s eyes narrow. “Adrien—he told you?” Her voice drips with frost, and Kagami takes an involuntary step back. At this moment, Kagami is certain that if Ladybug wanted to burn down the Tsurugi Mansion with just her eyes, she absolutely could.

“Watashi—” Kagami swallows, barely noticing that she’s lapsed into Japanese. “Ma, eto—I, eto, Ladybug—” She’s stammering. She does not stammer.

The window knocks again.

Both of their heads snap around to see a sheepish Chat Noir, waving at both of them. “Uh, hi Ladybug!” he says. “What are you doing here?”

Ladybug growls. “Chaton, this is not a good time.”

Chat clambers through the window. “I’m sorry, My Lady, but this is kind of important.”

Kagami’s stomach drops. One of them she could handle, but two? Right now? She wishes she could just… ask them to leave, but. Well. She knows Adrien, and she knows Chat. He’s too stubborn to go. And… honestly, she’s not certain she could tell Ladybug to leave.

“Chaton, please,” Ladybug says. “You have to go—”

“I’m not leaving,” Chat says, his shoulders set, looking Ladybug square in the eye.

Kagami crosses her arms. “Then you should both be prepared for my mother to walk in on you, because she certainly heard you arguing.”

Ladybug and Chat both look at her, horrified.

Kagami grimaces. “She has trained her hearing well.” She uncrosses her arms, pointing upward. “If you must argue, take it to the roof.”

When Kagami’s mother opens the door to her daughter’s room, Kagami is the only person in it. She’d managed to shoo both Chat and Ladybug out the window with just enough time to leap onto her computer before the door began to creak open.

“Musume,” Tomoe says, her voice as flat and flinty as it’s ever been. “Are you studying? I heard voices.”

“Hai, Okaasan,” Kagami replies. “My school is holding a mandatory seminar on conflict resolution. We were assigned a number of preparatory videos.” Kagami is a terrible improvisational liar, and her mother knows it; however, what Tomoe does not know is that if Kagami can prepare the lie ahead of time, it’s almost impossible to detect. That’s why she’s been holding onto this particular untruth for several months—the school really did have such a seminar, but it was some time ago. Kagami simply neglected to tell her mother about it in preparation for just such an occasion. (It’s much easier to sell thanks to the fact that her mother cannot see that the screen is, in fact, displaying a fencing website, instead of the homework that Kagami claimed.)

“Hrrm,” her mother grunts, blank-faced. Despite her relative difficulty Kagami has reading people’s facial expressions, Kagami knows that look—her mother is judging the quality of French education, and has decided once again that it is “too soft.” “Mind your studies,” she says, closing the door behind her.

Kagami holds in her sigh of relief until she’s certain she hears her mother’s footsteps retreating, until she is certain her mother is out of earshot. She can’t imagine her mother’s reaction to discovering that she has been sneaking people into her room, even people as illustrious as Ladybug and Chat Noir, but it can’t be a good one.

Speaking of the Parisian superheroes, the two of them are still waiting for her on the roof.

She slides the window back open, then carefully clambers out onto the ledge. She’s considering how to climb up to the roof—it’s much harder, without a Miraculous—when a yo-yo descends right in front of her face.

“Grab on,” Ladybug says.

Kagami is hoisted onto the roof to see the expectant, despondent faces of her heroes—of her loves—and her heart squeezes. She can’t do this. She can’t face both of them. Maybe she should just run away, back to Osaka, where the people she loves cannot hurt her anymore.

“Is she gone?” Chat says.

Kagami nods with tight lips. She doesn’t trust her words.

“Okay, good,” Ladybug says. She looks at Chat, then back at Kagami. “Now, will someone please explain what’s going on?”

Chat bites his lip, then sighs. “Gami, um. Walked in on me while I was transforming.”

Ladybug’s yo-yo drops from her fingers, clattering unattended onto the roof.

Chat reaches up and scratches the back of his neck, the way Adrien always does when he’s sheepish or embarrassed. (It’s strange, now, to see so much of Adrien in Chat Noir.) “I think—well, she freaked out a little bit. And she, um. Went to talk to you?”

Ladybug’s eyes go wide, and she surges forward, grabbing Chat’s shoulders with a terrified glare. “You know who I am?” she hisses.

Chat swallows, not taking his eyes off Ladybug’s. “You and Luka were the only ones who knew about Aspik.”

Ladybug blinks. “Not even you did,” she says. “Unless…” Kagami can see the gears turning in Ladybug’s mind as she looks away from Chat’s face. “Wait. Kagami saw you detransform and immediately came to me. Next thing I know, she’s messaging me that she broke up with—” She looks back at Chat, eyes wide with horror. “Adrien?”

Chat’s grin is small and watery. “Hi, Mari,” he says.

“You see why,” Kagami says, finally finding her voice. “Why I—why I—” She can’t finish the sentence. She can’t bring herself to say it.

“That wasn’t fair of you,” Ladybug growls. “Not to either of us.”

Bile rises in Kagami’s throat. “He—Marinette, he loves you. Don’t you see?” She’s begging now, pleading—Marinette has to understand. “You two—you love him, you were always meant for each other, I was just—just—an accessory!”

“How dare you!” Ladybug cries, leaping toward Kagami and tackling her into a crushing hug. Her voice is broken, wet. “How—how dare you think so—so little of yourself!”

“Don’t you see?” Kagami sobs back. “I—I love you! Both of you!” She buries her face in Ladybug’s shoulder, feeling the spandex grow wet with her own tears. “Too much to come between you.”

“And you think I don’t?” Chat snaps, finally coming out of his shocked stupor. “Kagami, I—I—” His head falls, his voice growing quiet as his ears begin to droop. “Please. Don’t—don’t make me choose.”

Ladybug and Kagami both stare at him for a long moment in a growing uncomfortable silence.

“What if…” Ladybug begins, finally. “What if you didn’t have to?”

Chat’s ears shoot straight upward as Kagami’s stomach flips inside her chest.

Ladybug steps back, placing her hands on Kagami’s shoulders. “Watching you two date has been… the hardest experience of my life.” Her eyes are searching Kagami’s face—for what, Kagami isn’t sure. “Not just because of my feelings for him, but because of… because…” She closes her eyes. “I was falling for you, too.”

A spark of impossible hope lights in Kagami’s chest. She—no. No, this isn’t possible.

“Kagami Tsurugi,” Ladybug says, her bluer than blue eyes boring into Kagami’s. “I love you.” She turns to Chat Noir. “Adrien. Chat. Mon Minou.”

Chat’s whole body straightens at that, standing a little taller, a little prouder.

Ladybug smiles. “I love you.”

“Ladybug—” Kagami begins, her voice hushed.

“You both love me, and you love each other,” Ladybug says. “What if—what if…”

Chat steps forward, taking Ladybug’s hand in his left and Kagami’s in his right. “Together,” he says.

Kagami’s heartbeat speeds up, burning through her chest as she takes Ladybug’s free hand in her own. “Together,” she agrees. She can’t believe this—none of this should be possible. She isn’t—she can’t be this lucky.

“Together,” Ladybug—Marinette—her girlfriend—finishes, giving her hand a squeeze. “The three of us against the world.”

Chat looks at Kagami. “The three of us against the world.”

Kagami smiles, trying to ignore the wetness on her face. “I would like that,” she says. “I would like that very much.”

#miraculous ladybug #my fic #original content #adrigaminette #Kagami tsurugi #chat noir #ladybug #Adrien agreste #Marinette dupain cheng #secret Santa #adrimi #adrigami #kaganette #kagaminette #marigami #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort

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