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pablitogavii · 11 months

Note

Hi! Could you write gavi x reader where readers ex bf turns up at the same club she’s at and she grabs gavi to help make her ex jealous but reader and gavi don’t know each other but he goes along with it? Sorry for being really pacific 😂 also take your time!!

New Boyfriend

I came to the club with my best friend not expecting to see him sitting at the with the same girl he cheated me on only two weeks ago…fuck, this is just my luck!

“Should we just go somewhere else, tía?” she asked me but I didn’t want him to dictate what I do anymore. I was done with him and he should be the one to feel uncomfortable after seeing me there and not other way around!

“Let’s just get a drink!” I said in annoyance pushing past the crowd not looking who I pushed to the bar and order the drink.

“What got you so angry, preciosa?” guy next to you with quite a low voice said but you were in no mood for meaningless flirting right now.

“No te importa!” you said ordering a two rum colas when you friend came closer to whisper into your ear.

“You just said that to Pablo Gavi, tía!” she said and my eyes opened wide as I turned to the side seeing his handsome face staring back at me which made me blush bright red. Shit! He was hotter than on the pictures!

“Lo siento..I am just having a horrible night and totally took it out on you..um and now I’m mumbling so I should stop talking!” I said getting even more nervous when he moved to stand closer to me.

“She’s a big fan!” my friend said and I pushed her saying that she was lying while looking into his now smirking face.

“Don’t be shy, preciosa..I like it” he said saying to the bartender that the drinks will go to his tab making me blush even more while my friend left us alone.

We talked for a few minutes, joking around like we knew each other for years, and I almost completely forgot about my ex and that bitch licking his face all night long.

"Mierda! What are you doing here?" he came to the bar just as shocked to see me here as I was to see him, not to mention that I was not alone...that's when an idea popped into my mind.

"I'm out with my boyfriend!" I said moving close to Gavi and he snaked his arms around me wast sending my mind into frenzy that he was playing along.

"You..you are with Pablo Gavi?" he was even more shocked when he realized who the guy besides you was while his girl was definitely not enjoying her time anymore.

"Yes, she is with me and I plan on taking a much better care of her than you ever did cabron! She will be treated like a princesa that she is!" Pablo spoke and a shiver moved down your spine from his words wondering weather he was just saying it as part of his new role or if he really meant it...no way! Pablo Gavi had girls piled up in front of him, why would he want me???

"I don't believe this! No freaking way Pablo Gavi would be with..you" he said and the girl behind him rolled her eyes leaving shortly afterwards now that she was no longer the center of attention.

My eyes watered from those words feeling very self conscious suddenly every single girl looking much more attractive than me in this moment. He was right..why me?

"She asked you to play along, didn't she tio?" he walked up to Pablo who was clenching his jaw angrily ignoring his attempt to shake hands. He would never shake hands with such an asshole!

"I warn you to watch how you speak about my girlfriend, capullo!" Pablo said and your ears screamed at the word girlfriend thinking how beautiful that would feel if it was indeed real..

"So prove it then?" he said and I gulped feeling nervous not wanting Pablo to be put in the uncomfortable situation because of me.

"We have nothing to prove to you gilipollas..wanna go home amor??" Pablo's hold on me tightened and he leaned in kissing the side of my neck softly and my knees felt week from his kiss knowing that I won't forget this moment until I die...Pablo gavi just called me "amor" and kissed my neck!?

"Mhm.." I said slowly feeling his hold relax as he grabbed my hand walking me out of the club with my ex still staring at the two of us in disbelief.

When we walked to his car far enough for my ex not to be able to see us anymore, I let go of his hand looking down and finally letting a tear fall down my cheek.

No matter what, I used to love that boy and hearing him say I'm not good enough hurt unimaginably..made me think I will never be enough for anybody.

"Come here, princesita..it's okay..I'm right here" he pulled me close and I cried into his chest which felt so safe and comforting in this moment. But then I suddenly realized, we were no longer pretending..my ex is nowhere in sight..why was Pablo still holding me like this??

"I'm so sorry..I panicked when he walked up..I shouldn't have said.." but before i could finish his finger was on my lips and he said it was fine with him.

"I have to admit playing your new boyfriend made me wonder what it would feel like to be one for real.." Pablo spoke tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear and I froze unsure weather I was dreaming right now or not?

"Tu eres tan preciosa.." he moved closer and I felt my back glued to his car while looking up into his warm brown eyes..he was so beautiful that I couldn't stop staring.

"I wanna be your new boyfriend preciosa..and I want to kiss you so bad right now but not until I know that's what you want?" he spoke touching my cheek and I leaned into the touch feeling too shy to talk so I just nodded my head.

Pablo only smiled nodding his head as well before placing his large hand on the side of my neck pulling me closer and placing his lips onto mine deepening the kiss once I relaxed and started kissing him back.

'Hi.." he smiled resting his forehead against mine and I blushed opening my eyes and looking into his feeling my heart melt still going crazy that all of this was indeed real.

"Hi.." I answered and he leaned in again kissing my lips again and this time I relaxed some more snaking my arms around his neck and playing with soft hair while he kissed me passionately.

When we pulled away, I rested my head on his shoulder while he smiled kissing the top of my head holding me close while whispering proudly "I'm your new boyfriend.." and I smiled nodding my head and kissing the side of his neck before looking up and kissing his lips again.

I think this is an intersting concept so here you go..lmk if you like it :)

#pablo gavi #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x you #fc barca #fc barcelona #fc barça #gavi #gavigif #gavira #pablo gavira #pablo martín páez gavira #pablogavixreadersmut #gavi x reader #gavi x vini #gavi x yn #gavi x you

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softly-potter · 2 months

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Lonely Lullaby

Summary: After a night out with Tai where he shares some important information, Qrow walks Summer home.

Loosely inspired by 'Lonely Lullaby' by Owl City

Pairing: Qrow X Summer

Word Count: 1,254

Warning: none

“There's no other way to say this than beside the obvious but, Summers pregnant.”

Qrow nearly spits out his beer.

Beside him, Tai nods, lets out a low whistle before he takes another sip from his pint. “That's about the reaction I figured you’d have.”

“But…” Qrow stutters, questions whirling on his tongue. “How?”

Tai looks at him incredulously, raises a brow. “The way all babies are made?”

Qrow makes a face, waves a dismissive hand. “That's not what I meant. I mean…when did you and Summer…?”

He lets the unspoken question hang in the air, looks at the brown liquid swirling in his cup because he can't look at Tai, can’t let his perceptive teammate read his expression.

You already had my sister. Why couldn't you leave Summer for me?

“I guess it just… did,” Tai sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s been helping out ever since Raven… y’know. And the more she’s been around, the more I realized I liked having her around. She made dinner one night after putting Yang to bed, we had a few drinks. It just happened.”

Qrow takes a full gulp, his throat burning as he swallows.

“She’s… fuck, she’s amazing.” Tai sighs, leans against his palm.

You're just now realizing that?

Qrow loved his teammate like a brother but in that moment he wanted to punch the love-dizzy expression clear off Tai’s face.

“Well congratulations.” Qrow says softly. “I’m… happy for you.”

Tai snorts. “Yeah, you seem like it. Come on man, I know it wasn't planned but just think, you’ll be an uncle again.”

Qrow tilts his face, both brows raised. “Really?”

“Who else?” Tai says with a smile. Qrow grins slowly, raises his glass and the two men clink. He orders another round of drinks, slaps Tai on the shoulder. They settle into easy conversation about the baby, naming options if it was a boy or a girl, how Yang would react to being a big sister.

When they settle their tab, Tai loops his arm around Qrows shoulder as they walk, patting his chest. “Thank you for being cool about this man.” Tai says, his voice slippery. “I wasn't sure if… I mean, I never knew if you had a thing for Summer or anything, I didn’t wanna, make shit awkward.”

Qrow feels his face heat and is thankful for the overcast night. “You guys will make great parents.”

Tai beams, his rosy face the picture of happiness.

Qrow has always been better at holding his liquor, and when he walks Tai through the front door of the little cottage, he tries to be as quiet as possible.

“Shhh, you’ll wake Yang up.”

From the couch, a sleepy Summer sits up, rubs her eyes. Her black hair is matted to her neck, sleep lines running up her arm and cheek, and Qrow quirks a brow. If they were having a baby, why wasn't she sleeping in his room?

“Sorry,” Qrow whispers, trying to steady Tai. “I didn't know you’d be out here.”

Summer smiles and stands, slips under Tai’s other arm and supports his weight. Together, they walk him to his bedroom, and he flops hard onto the mattress. Summer bends, unties his shoes before pushing him under the covers. Tai lets out a snore, flips to his side and Summer giggles. From the doorway, Qrow watches her care for Tai, and his chest feels heavy.

Ushering him out, Summer closes the door behind her with a finger to her lips. “I was just here to watch Yang while you two had a boys night.” she says in a whisper. Walking to the front door, she slips on her shoes.

“Are you… going home?” Qrow asks, tilts his head. Summer gives him a bemused look.

“Well, yes.”

Qrow rubs his jaw, grips Harbingers hilt. “Let me walk you home.”

Summer presses her lips together for a moment before she nods and opens the door, waiting for Qrow to follow.

They walk quietly for a few paces, Qrow keeping his eyes trained on the dirt pathway, once again thankful for the overcast night.

“So Tai told me the news.” He says, trying to break the silence. Summer pauses her steps, and Qrow stops, looking back at her. Her hands are clasped and she looks at the floor, and it's then that he notices her fingers shaking.

“He did?” She asks softly, looking up. Qrow nods, leans on his weapon. Summer begins walking again, this time out pacing him, and he has to stride faster to keep up with her.

“That's… great. I just wanted to say that's great.” Qrow says, his feet kicking up dirt.

“Yeah. It's great.” Summer replies, her tone flat. The roof of her house appears in view, the dark red shingles damp from the mist, and she pulls her cloak tighter around her.

As she puts her hand on the doorknob, Qrow clears his throat. “Well, um, goodni-”

“I’m going to say this once,” Summer interjects. With her back to him, Qrow can’t see her face, can’t read her expression. “I’ll say this once, and we’ll never speak of it again. Do you hear me? Never.”

Turning around, he sees her eyes are wet, her lower lip trembling.

“It should've been you,” Summer says, and her voice breaks. “I am over the moon about this, about the baby. And I love Yang, and Tai. I always have. He’s a good man, a good father. We’ll be a family, a family I've always wanted. But it should’ve been you.”

She swipes angrily at stray tears, balls her hands into fists. Qrows throat has gone dry, and he takes a step forward.

“I always thought it’d be you,” she says, her voice quieter than before. “We always… we had something, didn't we? When we were kids?”

He doesn't know if it's her raw honesty or the beer in his gut that makes him react but he nods, his necklace bumping against his chest at the movement.

Summer swallows, nods. “I thought so.” she whispers, looking up at him. “Then why did we never-”

“Because I'm a coward.” Qrow interjects. Summers' brows knit together, and she sniffles before shaking her head.

“No, you’re not.” she tries, and Qrow grinds his teeth.

“I am,” he insists. “If I wasn't, then I wouldn't have lost my chance.”

They're quiet, Summer looking at the ground and Qrow shuts his eyes in wounded frustration, letting out a breath through his nose.

“I lost it, haven't I. My chance, I mean.” Qrow whispers, his eyes still closed. Summer makes a crying sound, and when he opens his eyes her hand is pressed to her mouth, stifling the sound.

And then she nods, and he tastes dejection on his tongue.

“Too little too late I guess.” Qrow says, digs his hands into his pockets.

“I’m sorry.” Summer whispers, and Qrow waves a hand weakly.

“Don’t be, Summer,” He replies, and he tries to smile, tries to offer her comfort without touching her because touching her would hurt more than anything. “Tai says I'm to be an uncle again. And that's… good enough for me.”

Summer wrings her hands. “Will it be?”

He shrugs. “No. But I guess it’ll have to be. Goodnight Summer.”

Qrow turns, begins walking the way he had come. She calls after him, her voice sweet and wavy, but he doesn't respond, doesn't look back. If he did, he might have gathered her in his arms, and done something he could never take back.

#qrow branwen #rwby fanart #ao3 crosspost #rwby fanfiction #Qrow x summer #taiyang xiao long #summer x taiyang

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typically-untypical · 4 months

Text

Another Day in Paradise

AU: Coffee Shop AU

CW: None that I can think of

WC: 1,886

Date: 12/18/2023

"Janus, can you get the muffins out of the oven?" Patton called, hands currently occupied with the latte he was making for a customer. He was surprised how busy it was for an afternoon on a Tuesday. He didn't mind though, busy meant the days always went by faster.

"Of course darling," Janus called back, slipping toward the backroom to take care of muffins. Normally Janus would be the one taking care of making the drinks but he had been refilling some of the things they had started to run low on. It was hard, but with all of them, Patton knew they could take care of it.

Logan wrote on another cup and passed it toward him. "We haven't been this busy in a while, I guess Virgil's marketing campaign really worked out didn't it."

The smile on Patton's face was dazzling as he nodded his head, grabbing the cup from Logan and putting it on the queue to be made. Virgil had taken over their social media a few months back because he had had an idea and quickly the four of them realized that he was amazing at that kind of thing, of drawing people in.

"Gilbert, I have your Large Latte ready. Thanks a Latte for choosing us today!" Patton watched as Logan rolled his eyes with a fond smile and returned to working on the customer orders, ringing them up and gathering what was needed. When Patton had suggested to his boyfriends he wanted to open a coffee shop he hadn't expected them to go all in with him. Patton had only told them because he wanted to warn all of them that things in their dynamics would change a bit. However, each of them had jumped at the chance to help him. Now, after a few years, the coffee shop was rather successful and it was more perfect than anything he could ever imagine. Janus handled legal stuff, Logan handled finance, Virgil handled marketing, and Patton handled recipes. They all worked together in the shop, supporting each other, caring for each other and Patton wondered almost every day if he was dreaming. Other days, he worried about the dream ending.

Each of them had left something behind to be by his side. Janus had a law degree, Logan was trained in finance, and Virgil had been studying musical composition. Sometimes, Patton felt like he was stealing that all away from them.

"Cookie, go take a break," Janus whispered in his ear causing Patton to almost jump. He must have really been in his own thoughts if he hadn't even noticed Jay behind him. Then again, Janus had always been sneaky.

"I'm okay." Patton shook his head, trying to banish the last of his thoughts before looking up at Janus who was staring at him with a very accusatory smirk, one Patton knew far too well. "Okay, okay," he whispered. "But tell me if you need me."

"I always will," Janus gave Patton a quick peck on the check before ushering him away, basically shooing Patton off. With a little sigh and a pout, Patton walked to the back, going over to the office and knocking on the door frame. Virgil jumped, closing a tab on the computer before turning to him.

"Hey P, what's up?" That was another thing that was making Patton feel off and probably what had brought up all of these insecurities. Virgil was acting strange. He had been discussing something with Janus and every time Patton walked into the room the two would shift the topic, Janus normally more gracefully than Virgil. He would distract Patton and pull him into topics he knew would make him smile and forget about the awkwardness, and it did, for a time. However, Janus wasn't the only one Virgil was conspiring with, he had also been talking to Logan about finances, Patton hadn't overheard nearly enough because he didn't want to ease drop but it really made his stomach twist. Still, when Virgil gave him that soft smile, held out his hand to pull Patton in closer, it was hard for his fears to survive.

"Janus chased me out of the front because I was spacing out." He walked over to Virgil, taking his hand and slowly sitting on his boyfriend's lap.

"That's not like you, everything okay?"

He could bring it up now, he could cry into Virgil's shoulder about how he worried about asking Virgil what was wrong, but Patton didn't want to push, but he also couldn't keep doing this. "You would tell me if something was wrong, right kiddo?" He asked, using their little nickname for Virgil. He was after all the youngest even if it wasn't by much.

Virgil wrapped his arms around the small of Patton's back, pulling him closer. "Yeah, of course, I trust you. I mean it might take me a bit because I'm anxious and all that shit, but I trust you."

Patton nodded slowly, trying to even out his breath.

"Hey, cookie, what's gotten into you?" He pulled back, just enough to see the tears forming in Patton's eyes.

"Something's wrong, I can feel it. Behaviors are off and I... if you need to tell me you want to leave the bakery it's okay. I understand. It was a lot to ask." Patton was trying to smile but he had been so stressed out about this for so long. He didn't know if he could keep up the worried knot that had formed in his stomach.

"Whoa, whoa whoa whoa, what do you mean leave the bakery?" Virgil asked, his arms tightening around Patton. "I have no intention of leaving. I love that we all get to work together, that we go home together, that every day I get to see your smile."

"It's just, you've been talking to Logan and Janus lately and I know they handle emotional things better then I do, and also the logistics."

Virgil tilted his head for a minute, the confusion obvious on his face until his eyes lit up with understanding. "Oh Patton, no, I didn't realize I was being so obvious. No. I don't want to leave the bakery. I do have a surprise for you, and I should have warned you. I guess I was just a bit nervous about it and didn't want you finding out too early."

Patton collapsed into Virgil, relief escaping him in a hiccupping sob. He took in a stuttered breath. "Okay, okay. I'll wait. It's not bad, right?"

"No, I promise it's not bad. In fact it's pretty good, at least I hope it will be," Virgil sighed, his own anxiety beginning to show a bit. "Fuck, Logan is so much better at keeping surprises than I am. Can you hold out until tonight?" His hands threaded into Patton's hair. "I was going to tell you after we shut down the cafe anyway. I can tell you all about it and there won't be anymore surprises for a while.

"Yeah, yeah I can wait." Getting confirmation that it wasn't bad helped him calm his heart a bit, and knowing that Virgil wasn't trying to leave the cafe helped settle the feeling of unrest in his chest. It didn't ease everything, but it eased enough that he could take in a slow stuttered breath. "Can I also stay here for a bit longer? At least until I need to start the next batch of muffin mix?"

"Duh, it's not like I was going to let you leave anyway." Virgil held him closer. "You're mine."

Patton giggled and took in a sharp breath before letting it out slowly. It was heavier than he expected but once again, he felt lighter. "Yes I am." He curled into Virgil's arms and closed his eyes. For a while, he would be just Virgil's, just holding him here away from the stress of reality.

That night, after the doors were closed, the chairs were put away, and Patton was almost done mopping the floor, Logan walked up to him, wrapping his arms around Patton's waist. "You built a brilliant place for the four of us to exist." Logan held him close. His hugs were sturdy, measured and oh so warm. Patton couldn't help but look up into Logan's eyes marveling in the shy soft smile only he and the other two ever got to see. He wasn't sure what the occasion was for this hug, but he was so happy to be in one of his lover's arms. Logan swayed him back and forth as if there were music playing, reaching for Patton's hands and releasing the mop, allowing it to rest against the container of water. He then took Patton's hands, kissing one then the other before he spun Patton around. Logan looked at Patton with an adoration that had no words, a warmth that was all consuming.

Logan didn't dance much, but when he did it felt fantastical, like the rest of the world was fading away. They stepped and they twisted, staying on the dry ground. Logan led him into a spin and when Patton was in Logan's arms again, they kissed. He wasn't expecting Logan to be this romantic, but it was so very needed after a stressful day. Both the stress of worry and the stress of customers. When they pulled apart, Logan looked at him for a lingering moment, twirling one of Patton's curls on his finger before spinning Patton around and pushing him forward.

Right into Janus' waiting arms. "You think so much about others, about how you can help, how you can care, it's a trait I find both exhilarating and exhausting," Janus teased, kissing Patton on each of his cheeks. "Although I can often predict your choices, it is sometimes hard to understand why you are willing to show so much kindness. That's a puzzle I'm willing to spend the rest of my life trying to figure out." He nuzzled his nose against Patton's. "Stay with me?"

Patton giggled, nuzzling him back, holding tight to Janus' hands. "Always." That was a promise he was willing to make. He was willing to stay by Janus' side, by all of their sides for the rest of forever. As long as he had breath, he would love them.

Janus smiled, kissing Patton with a hungry burning passion, then twisted him around before he could get the air back into his lungs. Thankfully, what Patton saw made him gasp, hands going up to his mouth as his eyes welled with tears.

"I was talking to Janus about the legality of a multi person marriage, I was talking to Logan about the finances for a ring," Virgil whispered, on one knee with a box. "Patton, I would never want to leave this bakery. Actually, I kinda want to stay here for ever with all of you by my side." He opened the box, revealing a simple wedding band Patton would still be able to wear while making food, but also a thin gold chain just in case.

"Patton, will you marry me?"

His voice came out strained from the joyful tears falling down his face. "Yes." He didn't need to think about it, didn't need to question or guess if this would be right.

"Yes, I will."

@tsspromptmonth @simplestoryteller @fantasticfangirl21 @joylessnightsky @glacierruler

#TSS Rare Gifts Event 2023 #Untypical Creations #Sanders Sides #Sanders Side fic #Fanfic #Patton Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Janus Sanders #Logan Sanders #Coffee shop AU #Mostly Fluff

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antihibikase2 · 9 months

Text

Another drabble of that little Exchange Student AU!

Descante arrives earlier than anyone else to Professor Achroma's class on Battle Tactics 101- not because he was particularly excited.

He just didn't have anywhere else to go, or anything else to do in the spaces in between his classes.

But today, he arrives at the usual time, even if he's accompanied by a friend.

"Slater," Descante glances at his companion, who was clutching tightly onto his tote bag. "Are you sure? You don't want to wait for me at the dorm?"

"It gets lonely, you know," Slater replies. "Plus, I'd love to see how Professor Achroma teaches! I don't have any subjects under him,"

Good. That was for the best.

It wasn't as if Colress was a bad professor- far from it. As a chatterbox, he's grown accustomed to simplifying all that he needs to say to his audience, in order to maximize the time spent on even a quick exchange.

But, his teaching methods were.. interesting.

Well, Descante was here- Slater was by no means delicate, but he was easily shaken like the Buneary he caught a week ago.

They had half an hour before Colress, and the rest of the class, were expected to come inside, so Descante opened his battle simulator and notes on his laptop as Slater took out two packed lunches he had made for them both.

"Look," He beams. "The hotdogs look like Frillish! ..well, if Frillish didn't have such bulbous heads, and were, um, brown,"

The rice had slightly cooled, but it was no issue- having a homemade meal was still miles better than grabbing whatever he could from the vending machines.

If he remembered to get something at all.

Slater was a nice friend to have around. Spending his lunch working with someone offering him quiet company was a pleasant change of pace.

He gets to work, switching tabs as he clicks away on his laptop, occasionally using his free hand to scoop some of the rice and sliced side dishes into his mouth.

Slater eats his own meal as he hums, clearly happy to have a chance to have lunch with Descante; their schedules were wildly different, so a chance like this was rare.

At some point, both lunch boxes had been emptied, and Slater opened a can of Lemonade for him to drink as he put the containers into his little eco bag.

Descante zones out a little; having a full stomach meant he could work with ease, pouring all of his focus into what he was doing.

By the time he's grounded again, there was only five minutes left before class started- he could already hear the murmuring of his classmates, the whispers, the giggling-

He realizes Slater's hands had made their way into his hair.

He switches to a darker window, one that shows his reflection- and he sees Slater had done a ponytail with a spiral shape, its form held together by numerous pins, clips, and bands.

"Ta-da!" He chirps like a songbird. "It's a popular hairstyle in Hoenn! It's called a Politail because it resembles the spiral on a Politoed's head!"

He takes a moment to assess the spiral atop his head; a little more jagged and stiff than what a real Politoed would have.

And with that little flat frown on his face, he was so close to looking like one.

"Slater," He glances away from the laptop, meeting the eyes of his roommate. "Haven't I told you about my feelings toward Politoeds?"

"Hm?"

"What they've brought to the competitive scene- irreversibly damaging the tier with their permanent rain; have you seen what they've allowed Pokemon like Manaphy to do?"

His voice is still completely unchanged as the little spiral on his head wobbles with his movements.

"The Politails cannot be separated from the source. This is the root of all aesthetic politics-"

Slater, having grown accustomed to hearing this spiel before, could only crack a rare, mischievous smile as he snorted. "Heh. Poli,"

"Slater-"

"Do you hate it though?" Despite the question, a gentle smile was still on his face. "I can style it to something else,"

He ponders for a moment.

Then he still tastes the hotdogs on his tongue, as well as freshly prepared vegetables.

He decides against it.

"No, it's fine,"

Slater smiles brightly. "I'll give you a pretty braid next time!"

Slater always gives him pretty braids- and the accompanying accessories that came with them.

He supposes this is fine. He's come to class in other kinds of hairstyles anyway.

Slater looks pleased with his work, and as he settles on the seat next to him, Descante runs his fingers through his hair.

He felt the bumps and shapes of the clips clasped onto his hair; some were shaped like hearts, others seemed to be stars, with their pointed edges.

The rest of the accessories with varying silhouettes, he could only assume were Pokemon or berries.

He should get a container for these- his collection was piling up on the corner of his desk.

But, he’ll think about that later; he hears the scurry of footsteps pouring into the room as Colress strides cheerfully with his laptop.

When he spots both Descante and Slater at the back, he stops in his tracks, his shit-eating grin only growing wider. “Oh, you’re sitting in, aren’t you? That’s great! You’ll love our lesson,”

Descante does not like the sound of this.

But, he forces himself to sit straight when Slater points out how his back is going to hurt later- and even offers his tote for him to lean on. Descante complies with his friend’s request, setting down his headphones on the desk, and prepares himself for the worst.

#others #drabbles

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

Walk Me Home Tonight (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, songfic

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 4700

Summary: Sometimes it’s hard to be in a celebratory mood when all you can think of is that life sucks and that being left on your own to drown your sorrows is for the best.

Sometimes people who care about you know better than yourself and come crashing your party of one.

Sometimes, despite the popular belief, you do realize how lucky you are having been introduced to Steve Rogers.

Warnings: mention of blood and violence and death, mention of alcohol, angst, fluff and language

A/N: P!nk’s Walk Me Home just does something to me, alright? Music video included - it’s soooo beautiful.

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

You stared at the amber liquid, lazily making it roll in the glass with idle motions of your wrist. It reflected the rather soft lights of the bar, an exquisite game of colour you found fascinating enough to dull your mind and muffle the noise of the party.

It wasn’t that you were a party pooper, not usually anyway; just… the timing wasn’t ideal.

Of course, Sharon could hardly move her birthday to make it more convenient for you, less so a party her colleagues had decided to throw for her. You knew Agent Carter for quite some time now; she had joined SHIELD about the same time as you, going through the same tough training. Except unlike you – and initially without your knowledge – she had an image to live up to.

You might even call her a friend, your chest bursting in pride for her when her hard work had finally borne some fruit and she had been promoted to an assistant director of the intelligence agency. Among other things, it earned her a lot of new potential friends.

You were hardly acting like one tonight, much to your own annoyance. But for some reason, you found it difficult to leave your momentary emotional baggage at the doorstep, slipping it off as easily as your coat. You had wished her all the best, conversed for a tiny bit and then happily made space for others, for the forming line of guests waiting to celebrate with her as well.

Then you retreated to your spot at the bar, possibly annoying the bartender, who would have been more delighted seeing some heavier drinker occupying your seat, tipping generously, instead of having you nursing each glass of alcohol for about two hours.

You weren’t even sure why you were still here; you had given up on the attempt on small talk with anyone, apparently unwittingly chasing away any potential company. And here you thought misery did love company – perhaps you were wrong, at least when it came to birthday parties of gorgeous women loved by everyone. You might as well pack up your bottom and sulk at home.

You were stubbornly shushing the voice in the back of your skull, whispering about knowing precisely why you remained in your seat; about feeling less alone here, despite being a literal loner in a crowd.

You downed the rest of the bitter scotch, basking in the burn which it left on its way down your throat, your eyelids slipping shut in content, the noise in your brain falling silent completely for few blissful moments.

“Party of one?” a male voice gently asked, the tinniest note of teasing in it and while your heart skipped a startled beat at being addressed, you felt the burn in your throat slip lower, warming your chest and causing the corners of your mouth turn up just a fraction.

There's something in the way you roll your eyes Takes me back to a better time When I saw everything is good But now you're the only thing that's good

“Felt like crashing it?” you hummed in response, side-eyeing the intruder and found a pair of cerulean eyes staring back. He blindly waved off the eager bartender who was about to offer him a drink.

Ah, poor guy. No tips for him tonight.

“Well, I didn’t get an invitation. Looks like crashing was my only option.”

You sighed tiredly despite Steve’s kind teasing. Tonight was just… so exhausting. Tonight. Today. This week. Gah, this whole month. This fucking year--- okay, maybe you were exaggerating, because you were simply crossing the line, moving from relaxed buzzed drunk to a miserable one.

Battling with yourself, arguing whether you should send him to hell – nicely, because Steve was nothing but kind, he was always so kind, goddammit, gentle humour spiced with the ability to become an utter troll, still benign though, that was why you usually enjoyed his company so much after all-… – or call it a night.

Or should you order another drink? Was there a point? You might cross the line to a clingy drunk eventually and you weren’t certain that was a good idea.

It was probably about as good of an idea as coming to a party despite feeling like shit on an emotional roller-coaster, dangerously inclining towards a very bad mood to put it mildly.

You tilted your head to side as you looked at Steve properly, tight blue shirt flattering his supersoldier frame, black pants with desperately needed leather belt considering his thin waist, his blonde hair a mess, gaze fixed on you, observing. Always observing to read people, to anticipate behaviour, evaluate the threat; sometimes simply to be considerate, to… to be compassionate.

Dammit, Steve.

“Must have got lost in the mail then,” you said eventually, offering a weak smile. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s alright,” he shrugged it off, the curve of his lips more distinct than yours. As if he was offering to cheer you up. Sweet, but possibly vain effort tonight. Sometimes, things simply piled up and there was no escape. Such was the fate of a government agent. And human, for that matter. “Doesn’t look like much fun and I think it’s about to end anyway.”

“I guess…”

Tryna stand up on my own two feet This conversation ain't comin' easily And darling, I know it's getting late So what do you say we leave this place?

This time, Steve actually made an eye contact with the bartender, who eagerly rushed to him at instant. His excited expression fell when he noticed you were pulling out your wallet to close your tab. You didn’t have the strength to shoot him an apologetic smile.

Steve’s eyes were on you the whole time, you could feel them, and you wondered why. Until he spoke again, as soon as the other man left.

“Come on. I’ll walk you home,” he offered gentlemanly, coaxing you into saying yes, possibly unaware of the effect which such tone had on people.

Or perhaps he knew, using exactly that when he was trying to talk someone down, to calm them, gain their trust. The joke was on him, because it was a vain effort; you trusted him fully already. Surely, he knew that.

Right?

Trust was the solid base the team of Avengers needed and since you somehow found yourself with them, it involved you too. The team stood and fell on trust and mutual respect. But it meant so much more – they were friends. They cared about each other, about their well-being.

Right now, Steve was being a good friend and a good teammate.

And you were being exactly that too when you turned his kind proposition down.

“No, it’s fine. There are still some people who are actually able to speak coherently with you. Go enjoy yourself. I’ll be okay.”

“It’s three in the morning,” he pointed out, as if admonishing you for not noticing. Your eyebrow rose deliberately.

“…and?”

“And I’d feel better if you weren’t walking the streets alone,” he replied easily, ignoring the hint of snark in your comeback as you made your way to the coat-stand.

Still walking on the line of miserable and pleasantly buzzed, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mean to him for such patronizing approach. He had been raised this way and despite his open mind and admirable respect to women, he slipped sometimes.

“Steve, I’m a SHIELD agent basically turned Avenger. I can take care of my-“

“But you don’t have to. And-” He gestured subtly back towards the bar and a metaphorical lightbulb flickered above your head.

Not patronizing then, god forbid chauvinist; Peggy Carter would rise from the death to beat him with his own shield, with Natasha’s enthusiastic help, if he was showing any sign of aforementioned qualities and he was well-aware of that.

Just mother-henning then, the way Steve excelled at.

It brought the first honest smile of the night to your lips. You made sure to face him so he could see how wholesome his company was for you.

“I’m not too drunk, Steve. I had like two glasses of scotch,” you assured him, gently brushing his forearm before reaching for your coat and scarf. “And two beers.”

“I know,” he stated, stealing your coat only to hold it out for you to slip into it.

God, the woman who would once win his heart was about to be one lucky bitch.

Jim has never done this for me, flashed through your mind and you instantly shushed the whining voice in your head. Instead, you went over what he just said, blinking in surprise.

Huh? He… knew?

“I… might have kept an eye on you,” he admitted tentatively, the tips of his fingers brushing your shoulder before retreating and letting you to cocoon in the fabric.

“Why?”

Why would he keep an eye on you? Sure, teammates and friends and all that, but for some reason, you doubted he kept an eye on Tony, the only other Avenger (beside Steve, not Steve and you, you don’t count, a voice hissed in your mind and you winced) who attended the party, not being on any mission at the moment.

Why did Steve feel like you needed a chaperone?

No, that was too harsh of a word for him, you were certain his intentions were everything but malicious, but… why?

Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind, mhm So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on outside

The genuine wonder must have been audible in your voice, much like your shock must have been clear in your expression, because Steve seemed sheepish all of sudden, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Well, I mean, I know that you probably wouldn’t-“ he started, only to grimace. “It’s not that I think you’re an alcoholic! It’s just that... you--- and it’s only been-…“

-four days since you got dumped, you finished the unspoken sentence and tried your best to ignore the cold seeping into your bones at the reminder.

One of the reasons why you had been in a sour mood and deciding to drink alone. Your amazing asshole of a boyfriend had dumped you, metaphorically kicking you while you had already been down. Lovely.

“-I was worried. But you didn’t look like you were interested in having company, I didn’t want to be a bother and-“

You pulled Steve out of his misery by placing a hand over his forearm, which stopped the words spilling uncontrollably from his mouth.

He was actually being very sweet and thoughtful. It kinda made you feel bad, because… you weren’t looking for dragging someone down with you. As it was, he had his own reasons to not be happy about partying tonight, but feeling like he had to keep an eye on you probably didn’t help to lift his spirits.

“-and you had to spend some time with the woman of the hour,” you finished instead of him slowly, hoping you sounded at least half as thoughtful as he did and that you didn’t appear to be the greatest bitch, stealing attention from Sharon. “That’s understandable, Steve. It is her birthday party and I’m the one being antisocial.”

You bit down your lip, lowering your gaze, because the infamous worried wrinkle appeared on Steve’s forehead and you just knew he was about to protest and you… honestly felt bad about your behaviour and the welcoming colour of his eyes was not helping to make you feel any better, because of course he probably thought it was perfectly normal to look out for you instead of allowing himself to enjoy the night and- ugh.

“You… you shouldn’t have to look out for me. Your attention could have been fully on the birthday girl.”

Naturally, Steve Rogers basically shrugged it off. Covering your hand on him with his large palm, he slouched to look into your eyes once more. Insistent bastard, no doubt aware of your inability to say no to his amiable face.

“That’s what friends are for. Now, can I walk you home?”

You shook your head with a sad smile, rising your gaze towards the ceiling, hoping it came out as an exasperation at his stubbornness and not as it truly was – you in fact attempting to keep your tears at bay, because, miserable drunk, dumped four days ago apart from other things and there he was, asshole perfect, Steve fucking Rogers, gentleman and friend extraordinaire, caring for your well-being more than Jim ever had.

A twinkle appeared in his eye when he recognized he won and you chuckled, sealing his victory out loud.

“Yes, Steve. You can walk me home. It’s conveniently located on the way to yours.”

He smirked when he shrugged on his own coat. “Happy coincidences…”

There's something in the way I wanna cry That makes me think we'll make it out alive So come on and show me how we're good I think that we could do some good, mhm

Once you left the bar, silence fell on you, feeling heavy as did the cold November air.

Heavy and awkward. While you could tell with certainty you were barely affected by the alcohol you had drunk, your steps were wobbly, knees shaky as if you were a baby horse trying to stand up for the first time.

Steve walked by your side, majestic in his thigh-length coat, hands snugged in its pockets only halfway as if he was waiting for you needing his support. It irritated you as much as it warmed your heart.

On top of everything, you would swear every lone person you met stared at you, staring you up and down until they seemed to register Steve’s imposing frame and quickly went back to their business. It annoyed you to no end; it was just proving Steve’s point that you shouldn’t walk the streets alone at such hour, government agent or not.

“I would have been fine, you know,” you hummed, cautiously breaking the relative quiet.

It was never truly quiet in New York City, only rush hours alternating with calmer ones. You didn’t mind it; you enjoyed the city. Sometimes quiet meant that thoughts won the opportunity to become too loud; tonight, for some reason, despite the silence, Steve prevented that ever since he joined you.

It dawned to you then, how ungrateful you sounded and you quickly added “But thanks.” – a whisper full of honesty.

“Uh-huh.”

Perhaps the silence weighted so much because your mood wasn’t the only cause of it.

Steve was showing you that he worried; surely, you could as well? Because you did, worry about him that was.

“…are you? Okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked distractedly, but you could hear the frown on his face, the image of his nose scrunched in confusion painted in front of your eyes even without looking at him.

“Just… today-” you nudged him once more and vaguely eyed your watch only to be reminded that ‘today’ was a confusing term. “Or, more like, yesterday…”

A sharp inhale was drawn at your side and you could sense as he started closing off, putting up his walls so no one would catch a scent of his weakness. You hated when he tried to do that. You would have thought you were past that. You liked to consider you two friends at least.

Tonight was simply not your night. Of either of you, apparently.

“What about it-?“

You sighed, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. Were you truly such a crappy company, an insensitive friend or was there something sorrowful and cranky in the air, preventing your communication channels from tuning to the same frequency?

You were aware what the day meant for him – another painful reminder of what he had lost with crashing the plane in the forties only to wake up in a new millennium.

Though this particular loss – of his mother – haunted him even back in what some people called his days. It was an utter non-sense. Steve belonged there as much as he belonged here. He was brave enough to try and stubborn enough to succeed in fitting in.

“Nothing, I guess,” you sighed once more, this time rolling your eyes. “…Mr. Nothing Can Touch Me.”

The wry nickname hung in the air for a while, the faint noise of the night city washing over your pair. When Steve broke it again, there was a barely audible crack in his voice.

“I… I’m okay. I think. I… should be. It’s been so long. Decades,” he mused, turning his gaze to the sky. His eyes glistened and if you didn’t know him, hadn’t witnessed his walls lowering before, you would have thought it was just the streetlights reflecting.

You knew better. Tentatively, your fingers brushed his, not remembering when his hands had left his pockets. You were grateful for it now, especially when he didn’t retrieve from your touch instantly.

“Not for you,” you pointed out quietly, rewarded by the softest squeeze of his warm hand.

The heaviness and tension you had felt before resolved with the gesture. Something finally fell into place and you were almost you again and he was almost him.

Two figures, carrying their griefcases, but functioning and… harmonizing once more.

“How did you know?”

“That’s what friends are for, Steve,” you echoed his earlier words, sending a tiny smile his way, meeting his glassy gaze. “They remember important dates, good or bad.”

“No one else did. Not that I can actually hold it against Buck, of course... but no one… you…” his voice trailed off as he lost his train of thought – or perhaps he had never truly directed it to the station in the first place.

Your shoulders moved a fraction, a hint of a shrug-off. His hand wrapped around yours tighter in silent appreciation, not showing any sign of intending to let go.

And you were alright with that. More than alright.

Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind, mhm So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on outside

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

His presence was always immense, overwhelming even; yet so comfortable you didn’t have the slightest problem with opening your heart to him, offering it to him even when it was bleeding. And now, finally tuned together, it was no different.

You bared your heart to him, even if it hurt.

“She didn’t make it,” you whispered, voice pained in the dead of the night and he didn’t react, letting you to gather strength to elaborate. You cleared your throat as the lump grew in it. “Kayla, one of the kids… from last week’s mission. I found out yesterday… she-she didn’t make it, she had too many injuries. Word is that perhaps it was even a blessing. A relief.”

“I’m so sorry,” Steve repented, his grip growing stronger just a fraction, enough to make your chest and eyes burn.

“Yeah, so am I.”

Whatever he heard in your voice, it caused his fingers twitch in your hand, his footsteps slowing down. “You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

“Wasn’t it? If I was faster, if I-“

Steve stopped in his tracks completely, pulling at your hand to make you do the same and face him.

You closed your eyes when his blue ones met them, unable to stand the urgency in them. His free hand curled around your shoulder, caressing in attempt at comfort.

“Hey, hey, don’t do that to yourself.” Hypocrite, you threw back at him in your mind, stubbornly keeping your eyelids shut, simply knowing that if you saw the sincerity in his gaze in addition to the fervour he spoke with, you might actually believe him. “You did your best. I know that, Nat and Buck know, everyone does. A monster you helped to put behind bars hurt the kids. Not you. You saved so many lives.”

You shook your head with a sigh, staring straight ahead as you turned on your heels and continued your path. Steve, never letting go of your hand, followed reluctantly.

“Sometimes I think he might have been right, you know?”

Peripherally, you saw him frown again and you cursed yourself for drinking – it untangled your tongue and his stupid face made your spill your guts to him, vomit emotion. You weren’t too secretive about your feelings most of the time, but damn, you hated how alcohol pushed your boundaries of sharing them.

“… Jim. He said that maybe I should give it up. That I’m just running alongside you, heroes, pretending to be one of you, but in the end, I’m not even close to being as good-“

Steve’s feet took roots in the ground, his steely grip forcing you to stop – as long as you wanted to keep your hand attached, which yeah, you kinda did.

“I feel like taking a detour now,” he muttered darkly and for a short moment, confusion was everything you felt, blissfully overtaking the anger, the sorrow, the helplessness and the feeling of utter uselessness.

“Huh?”

“Where does Jim live?” Steve spitted out the name venomously and you couldn’t help the wave of affection washing over you. Affection towards this treasure of a man who apparently wanted to punch another human being because it offended his friend. “He has no business saying something like that. Especially if his bullshit actually affects you-”

“Steve, he wasn’t wrong, I’m just-“ you sputtered, caught off guard when you registered the fire in his glare.

“We all make mistakes. But that’s beside the point, because you didn’t even make any that day. I read the report, and I know you, you put everything you got and more into the rescue mission. How can he-“ he hissed, literally taking a calming breath as both of his hands balled into fist.

Well, one of them only nearly, since it was still holding yours. It actually stung a bit, the bones in your hand close to grinding against each other.

“-I haven’t met him many times, but if he said that instead of comforting you after an incredibly draining mission, then I’m glad that that asshole is gone from your life. … though I would still appreciate his address.”

Blinking away the few stray tears that welled up, you forced a smile as Steve’s strict glare found yours. It felt good, seeing his indignation; having someone else exasperated on how Jim had reacted. He should have given you a hug and hold you tight; that was what you would wish for. Instead, he told you to stop complaining and when you accused him of not supporting you, he called you a whiny bitch who should make up her damn mind and broke things off.

You deeply appreciated Steve’s display of chivalry, hell, you half-considered giving away the address just so Jim would hear someone else agreeing with you, but you were honestly just tired. And you had a feeling Steve wouldn’t stay only at words and seeing any more blood, any more aggression would have been too much for you tonight.

Tonight, you… you needed serenity and comfort.

“…thank you. That… that means a lot. But… maybe just walk me home? Please? Could you walk me home, Steve?” you pleaded softly, barely audible, not caring it sounded like weeping of a needy child.

Unbeknownst to you, that was the last thing you resembled in Steve’s eyes. Your imploring gaze, vulnerable and open, it moved something inside him, his anger silenced for the moment, leaving him defenceless, unable to say no. Not that he had an intention to do so. He always had trouble saying no to you.

So he forced his fists to relax, running his thumb over the back of your hand and whispered the only word that made sense.

“Always.”

You settled back to the comfortable silence after that.

Walk me home in the dead of night 'Cause I can't be alone with all that's on my mind Say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on

You reached the Tower hand in hand.

Neither of you released the other. Not during the elevator ride, not when you walked the halls lined with doors leading to each’s private quarters.

You were still holding onto each other when you came to a stop in front of your door; rest assured, Steve Rogers would lead you right to your door even if his was only at the end of the very same corridor.

Standing nearly chest to chest, his eyes bored into yours with seriousness that surprised you.

“For the record, you do a great deal of good,” he reassured you, saying it as if he truly meant it. It tugged at your heart, sweet and bitter. “You’re amazing and you’re the most authentic of all of us. I admire you.”

That claim caused you to chuckle. Now he was laying it on a bit thick, downright exaggerating.

“You admire me? Steve, that’s really nice of you to say, but don’t be ridi-“

Your words died in your throat when his large palm splayed over your cheek, cradling it gently. When the paddle of his thumb swiped over your other cheek, soft smile playing on his lips, his irises bright with a promise, time seemingly stopped along with your heart.

“And you’re a great friend to the whole team, a wonderful person. Do me a favour and finally learn to accept a compliment,” he asked of you in hushed voice, the electric blue and green of his eyes locking you in. “If he didn’t praise you enough for you to get used to it, he was doing something wrong.”

You gulped, a silly association with the word ‘praise’ allowing you to break from the cage of his gaze that had previously had your mind gone blank.

“I’m not a dog to be praised, Steve…”

One corner of his lips – and when did they got so close anyway? – twitched. And then a tender kiss landed on your forehead, just the softest brush of lips against your skin. The gesture, utterly incomprehensible for you, had your eyelids flutter shut.

“I’m very much aware. Believe me, doll, I know. Thank you for letting me walk you home.”

You only nodded at the ridiculous statement – why was he thanking you? – too perplexed at the fact his lips had made contact with your skin. When did you cross the line towards the delusional drunk?

His fingertips caressed your face as he let go, wishing you to have a good night. Too baffled, you were unable to respond until he had already made his way to his door and you suddenly missed the warmth of his presence.

Breaking free from your haze, you acted on impulse, apparently startling him when you called his name out of blue so urgently.

“Steve!”

Whipping his head around to look at you, you felt your heart jump into your throat.

“Uh… are you ready to go to bed or… or maybe… would you like to watch a movie or something?” With me?

I don’t think I’m ready to be alone. Ready to be without you.

Even from the distance, you would swear you saw his lips spread in a slow honey-sweet smile.

“I think I’d like that,” he called out lowly. “Ten minutes? I’ll get the blankets. You pick the movie.”

“See you in ten then.”

You pretended that your heart didn’t flutter, sending a wave of familiar tingle through your chest and to your fingers, as you slipped inside your room with your mouth curled up in a content smile.

Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong There is so much wrong There is so much wrong going on outside

*��･ Bonus *✧･

If Tony found them two and half hour later, closing credits rolling, the pair curled up and cuddling on the couch, you fast asleep in Steve’s arms, and he noticed that the supersoldier was in fact only faking to avoid an interrogation from the Ironman himself, he didn’t mention it. He just whispered to FRIDAY to turn off the TV and turn off the dimmed lights completely.

He hoped Rogers would treat you the way you deserved, unlike the man who now had farts announcing a received e-mail or texts, unable to change it, and a laptop turning on randomly, dead-pale children staring at him from the screen with hollow eyes and in clothes dripping water. Tony would hate to have to hack more tech again just to avenge your broken heart without your knowledge any time soon.

He’d rather suffer watching the two of his friends being disgustingly sweet on each other.

Probably.

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

S.R. masterlist

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

Silent thanks to the person who came up with the word ‘griefcase’ as an alternative to emotional baggage.

Also, I’m pretty sure songfics aren’t supposed to be so long... oops?

Thank you for reading!

#fanfiction #songfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #hurt/comfort #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #avenger reader #shield agent reader #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #walk me home tonight #anika ann

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maliceinborderland · 2 years

Text

Washing Machine Heart [1] {megumi fushiguro}

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x fem reader, more pairings to be added

Genre: Angst, Light smut(?)

Warnings: Suggestive content, mentions of attraction to older people(no pedophilia though, pls don't crucify me)

Word Count:4.1K

Summary: Y/N, a high school senior, realizes that the one she is in love with loves someone else. Devastated and heartbroken, Y/N comes across Megumi Fushiguro, a classmate who finds himself in a similar position. Y/N and Megumi then make a pact to satisfy each other's needs, both sexual and emotional, in order to fill the voids left by their unrequited loves. They swear to not fall in love with each other and to immediately break up if their love is returned by the people they're in love with.

Author's Note: Hey guys~ this is my first piece writing for anything outside of Alice in Borderland content, and I'm a little anxious to see how it will do and if you guys will like it. I hope you do:)

The final bell of the day rang, and I soon found myself waiting at the school gates. A tall lanky boy with a mess of inky black hair approached me with a small smile.

“Did I keep you waiting for long? Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly while grabbing my school bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

“You didn’t.” I shook my head. “I’m just quick on my feet.”

“I guess you’ll just have to match my pace, hm?” he chuckled softly, grabbing my hand. I began to step forward, but he quickly tugged me back. “Hold on just a moment.” Megumi removed the dark blue scarf he had wrapped around his neck and wrapped it around my neck. “It’s cold and windy. Why don’t you wear this so you can stay warm?”

An ocean of squeals erupted from our schoolmates as we began to walk off of school grounds

“They are sooooo cute together!”

“They look so in love, don’t they?”

“I wish I had a boyfriend like Megumi…”

“Y/N is sooo lucky!”

I, Y/N L/N, and Megumi Fushiguro are dating. I’d never given it much thought, but I guess you could say that we’re a couple many are envious of. All people would talk about is how perfect we were together, and how lucky either one was to have the other. It’s weird for me to say so myself, but we are the perfect couple. We even went viral on social media not too long ago. We’re just *that* couple everyone idolizes. There’s something about hearing people say all of those things that makes me feel guilty.

“Hey, did you get your score for that report on the Canterbury Tales we had for English?” Megumi asked.

“I did. How did you do?”

“A-.” he smiled. “Not bad, huh?”

“Not too shabby,” I teased. “But not as good as am A+.”

“You got an A+?!” he stopped in his tracks. “You’re kidding.”

I shook my head no. “Geto sensei said that my view on the Wife of Bath was unique and that provided excellent evidence to support my arguments.”

“That sucks.” he huffed, before starting to walk again. “Not your grade, but Geto sensei has always been a real pain in the ass. He never gives me anything over an A-.” Megumi pulled out a coffee drink can from his backpack’s side pocket, lifting the tab open. He smacked his lips a bit after he took a sip, gauging the taste.

“Can I have a taste?” I asked. Megumi’s eyes shifted to the side mischievously before leaning close to me and putting his face right in front of mine. A blush crept up onto my cheeks, and I lightly slapped his arm. “That’s not what I meant!”

“I know~ I just like getting you riled up.” he chuckled, handing me the drink.

I brought the can up to my lips, taking a sip. My lips puckered at the too-sweet taste of the drink. “How can you like this?”

“I don’t. My dad just told me to take one with me before I left for school this morning. He said that they’re good during the winter.”

“Hm… Did he say why?”

“Nope.” He took another sip.

The two of us continued to chatter for a while about school and our friends as we walked down the streets leading up to our neighborhood. Just as we always did, we stopped by Megumi’s house first, not going into the main building, and instead of taking the side path into the backyard to the restored shed Megumi used as a “mancave.” Megumi led me inside, and once there he pushed me against one of the shed’s walls. His fingertips grazed my jaw as he lifted my face to look up to him.

“Fushiguro… did you get taller, by chance?”

He remained quiet, opting to instead tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “And you cut your hair.”

I scoffed. “Took you long enough to notice… I cut it last week.”

“Hmm...” I couldn’t blame him. When both of our attentions were focused elsewhere it made sense for us to not notice these sorts of things.

I didn’t usually make a habit of coming to school so early, but my mom had offered to give me a ride on her way to work so I wouldn’t have to walk in the cold. On the bright side, she’d bought me breakfast on the way here. On the downside, I would be at school way too early. I’d left my backpack in my first class and opted to walk around for a while just until the first bell rang. As I walked down the senior hall, I noticed the door to the Psychology classroom open. I poked my head inside and found it to be empty. I walked inside, going around the classroom and reading the posters with psychology memes on the walls that I had just about memorized by now.

Why was Pavlov’s hair so soft? Because he conditioned it.

Thass mentol illness Luv.

Know any good psychology jokes? I’m a-Freud not.

Such cheesy phrases. But it was this type of comedy that he liked best. My nii-san. My feet had led me to the teacher’s desk at the front corner of the classroom. I let my fingertips lightly touch the smooth wood table top of the desk, the cool counter causing chills to run up my arm.

“Who do we have here~?” a man’s voice asked in sing-song.

My heart began to race, and I looked over my shoulder to find a familiar pair of steel-blue eyes. “Nii-san!”

“You’re not looking for any test answers, are you, Y/N-chan?” he chuckled. He lightly tapped the book he held in his hands on top of my head. “You should really use honorifics with me while we’re at school.”

Annoyance engulfed my body as I slapped his hand and the book away from my head. “Well, if that’s the case, you really should stop calling me ‘Y/N- chan,’ don’t you think?”

He tapped his chin with his index finger. “I suppose you’re right, Y/L/N-san.” He shivered, laughing. “That doesn’t feel right.”

“Tell me about it, Gojo sensei.”

“I watched you grow up from a baby until now. I can’t help but feel a certain way towards you, you know?”

“Yeah… I think I-”

A soft knock interrupted me. ”Am I interrupting something?”

“Nurse Ieri!” Satoru stood straight up and flashed her a smile. “Good morning! To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

The tall, and heartbreakingly beautiful brunette waved a pair of shades in her hand. “Saw these in the faculty lounge and figured they couldn’t be anyone else’s but yours.”

Satoru tapped his hands on his shirt pockets rather comically before sheepishly smiling at the school nurse. “Well, I’ll be damned. I guess they are mine.” The nurse handed him the glasses, tilting her head to the side as he put them on. “These damn fluorescent lights do a number on my eyes.”

The two faculty members began to engage in small talk, and suddenly it’s like I didn’t exist. You couldn’t help but catch the way the nurse rested her hand on Satoru’s arm comfortably, almost as if they were close friends. But I knew they weren’t. I knew all of Satoru’s friends, of which only two were women, with only Akari being the closest thing to a female friend Satoru had while Utahime barely tolerated him and only stuck around for Suguru’s sake. Shoko Ieri didn’t fit into this picture. This much I know.

I was also well aware that Satoru had his fair share of dating experience and even if he did humor her and gave her the slightest bit of attention, that she’d be left in the dust just like every other poor girl who thought she was worthy enough of making her mark in Satoru Gojo’s life permanently. The only girl that occupied permanent residency in Satoru’s life was me, and it had been that way for as long as you could remember. But even then… Something about the way they leaned into each other’s touch made me queasy and uneasy.

I took them being distracted with one another as an opportunity to exit the room. Their chatter filtered into the hallway and it felt somewhat suffocating to hear the nurse’s giggles as I made my way down the hall, feeling like I couldn’t get away fast enough. There was a tightness in my chest, and breathing couldn’t come easy to me. I pressed my hand to my chest, hoping to ease myself some, but my vision became blurred.

Students had begun to enter the school, filling the hallways, but I couldn’t focus on any of their faces. Their conversations began to fill the once silent hallways and a buzzing rang in my ears from all the overlap. I was beginning to feel disoriented.

“Y/N?”

Someone was calling my name, but I couldn’t tell from where.

“Y/N.” Two hands grabbed my shoulders stopping me in my tracks. “Are you feeling okay?” I looked up to see the source of the voice to be met with Megumi’s concerned stare. His hands went up to my face, his thumb lightly rubbing under my eyes. “You’ve been crying… Why?”

“It’s nothing.” I backed away, rubbing at my face. “Can we please go somewhere?”

Megumi tilted his head in thought, furrowing his brow. “Now?”

“Please.”

As the first of the morning bells rang, Megumi led me to the school’s rooftop. It was usually filled with other students during study hours or lunch, but it was empty right now. Tugging me by the hand, Megumi brought us into an old janitor’s room, locking the door from the inside.

“Do you think anyone saw us?” I asked.

“I don’t think so.”

As if pulled to each other by invisible magnets, our lips collided with one another. Megumi’s tongue traced the outline of my bottom lip, impatiently seeking for entrance. Eagerly, I parted my lips allowing his tongue to ravish mine. His slender fingertips danced along with the buttons of my uniform’s cardigan, itchingly undoing one by one, and then reaching up to the collar of my white button-down and repeating the motions.

My own hands mimicked his actions, my trembling fingers somehow managing to undo each and every button on his shirt. My cold hands found solace as they reached to rest on the warm skin of his back, while his cold fingers teased the bottom of my bra, causing goosebumps to rise on my flesh.

The moment his hands finally breached the barrier of my bra and cupped my breasts, a soft, pleasured gasp emerged from my throat. My body had a mind of its own and with each touch gifted to me by Megumi, I couldn’t help but voice my needy approval. My nails lightly traced patterns onto his lower back with which he responded with the most dulcet of soft groans, music to my ears that it was.

Megumi’s lips shifted to the crook of my neck, and his hands continued their focus on my breasts, with his thumbs rubbing at my pebbling nipples, circling around the hardening nubs. While my body remained on autopilot, my mind began to be filled with an overwhelming reality.

Unrequited love. Painful love. One-sided love. Are they as beautiful as people make them out to be? I honestly don’t think so... I don’t think so because I believe that whatever the feeling of love is, is a lot more chaotic and sincere, it’s something you can’t let go of so easily. Love is persistent.

Megumi and I are dating.

“Nii-san” I moan softly.

“Shoko-san…” Megumi mumbles against my skin.

And yet… We’re both in love with other people.

We’re nothing but proxy lovers for each other.

“For fuck’s sake, what could he even see in her?” I whined as I buttoned my uniform. “I’m just as pretty if not prettier than her!” I groaned as I noticed I had accidentally mismatched the buttons in the midst of my hissy fit and began to button them properly.

“Come on now,” Megumi lightly tapped my head. “Don’t go badmouthing Shoko-san like that in front of me.”

“Oh, shove it.” I huffed. “You men have always been suckers for the weather-girl type of women with huge tits.”

“Hey!” Megumi flicked my forehead. “What the fuck did I just say?”

“Fuck you, Fushiguro. You’re kinda fucked in the head, aren’t you?” Annoyance bubbled up within me. Just what did she have that made her so appealing to all the men around me? “Why do you keep calling Nurse Ieri ‘Shoko-san’?”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Megumi sighed. “ I’ve known her for a couple of years. She used to tutor me in science while she was still in college. She told me to just call her Shoko-san back then.”

I grimaced. I didn’t want to hear any more of Shoko, Shoko Ieri, Nurse Ieri, or whatever. “All this pent-up frustration is giving me heartburn and making me hungry... “ I nudged his foot with mine. “Buy me a honey bun?”

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N, would it kill you to pay attention when I talk to you every now and then?”

“Forget it.” I grabbed my cardigan from the floor and walked out of the room, slamming the door shut. So fucking annoying. This stupid situation made me so angry.

Love truly is pointless if it doesn’t blossom.

The day progressed and I struggled to pay attention in class. Having to sit through class was beginning to feel more like a chore these days. With each passing day, the more my mind wandered elsewhere, completely detached from what was going on around me. All I could think of these days was Satoru and what I could do to get him to fall for me and love me back. It all seemed like a lost cause from the outside looking in, but there was no way I’d give up hope.

The lunch bell rang, and Ghetto sensei sighed heavily. “Please read the first two acts of Romeo and Juliet, we will be discussing them on Monday.”

I packed my journal into my backpack and felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked over my shoulder to find Nobara Kugisaki smiling at me.

“Hey, you.” I smiled.

“Are you gonna be joining us for lunch?” she asked.

I shook my head, trying to look apologetic. “I don’t think so. I packed lunch for Megumi and me to share, and he’s already waiting for me. I’m really sorry.”

“Next time?”

“Sure.”

Nobara was sweet and one of the few friends I actually made an effort to interact with. I felt bad for ditching her just to spend time with a guy that was supposed to be my boyfriend in the eyes of the public, but for who I had no feelings. I could only imagine what she must have thought of my sudden relationship with Megumi when I had never even mentioned liking him or anything to her before.

I made my way through the condensed halls filled with students rushing to the cafeteria and courtyard for lunch, aiming my way towards the staircase leading up to the rooftop. There I caught sight of Megumi slumped down on one of the concrete benches reading through a weathered copy of Romeo and Juliet.

“Getting a head start on the readings?” I asked, settling down next to him.

“Trying to, but it’s kind of difficult with all these annotations my dad made on the borders.” he sighed. “Maybe they’d be helpful if his handwriting wasn’t so shitty.”

“That’s true, your dad majored in Literature, right?” I pulled out my lunchbox from my backpack, unclasping the safety tab to open it, and extended my arm out in his direction offering him its contents. “It’s how he met your mom.”

“So you do listen.” Megumi teased, to which you responded with a shrug. “But, yeah. He and mom both majored in Literature but minored in different things.” he closed the book, setting it aside, and reaching for a piece of kimbap you had packed. He stuck it in his mouth, humming with content as he chewed. “By the way, how are you feeling?”

“Hm?” I raised an eyebrow at him as I chewed a piece of my own.

“You were upset this morning.

I shrugged. “I’m over it. No use in dwelling on it.”

“Y/N~” my mother’s voice called out from the kitchen. “Are you home?”

“Who else would it be?” I called out as I took off my shoes by the door and stepped into my house slippers.

“Oh, you~” my mom’s voice mused. “Come join us in the dining room.”

Us?

“What do you mean ‘us?’” She didn’t have to answer my question, for when I entered the dining room, my eyes caught sight of a familiar face once again. “Nii-san.”

“Hey, Y/N-chan~” he waved his hand while holding a pair of chopsticks. “You’re home kind of late, aren’t you?”

“Go grab a plate for yourself from the kitchen, darling.” Mother instructed. “Oh, she was probably with that Fushiguro boy. Those two are practically inseparable.”

“Fushiguro? Megumi Fushiguro?” Satoru asked.

“The very one!” mother nodded. “A real handsome young boy, that one. They’d make for a great couple, don’t you think, Satoru-kun?”

“Mom! That’s really inappropriate!” I groaned as I sat down in front of Satoru. “Besides, he’s just a friend.”

“Oh, hush~ There’s nothing wrong with having a boyfriend at your age, you know?”

“She’s right, Y/N-chan.” Satoru chimed in. “You’re in the prime time to experience your first love.” His gaze towards me was warm, and I wished with all my being that he’d slip up and show that just maybe the thought of me being with someone else bothered him the way he being with someone else was the product of my nightmares. But there was no sign of that.

And once again my heart ached.

We continued to talk about how Satoru felt about working as a teacher, with my mom teasing him every now and then, and the both of them ganging up on me for the heck of it. Satoru checked his watch, and began to clean up after himself.

“It’s getting late. I should probably take my leave. You both must be tired and I’ve got to run some errands early in the morning tomorrow.” He stood with his plate in his hands and made his way to the kitchen.

“Oh Satoru-kun, no~ leave that there, I will clean up.” mother quickly stood up, grabbing the plate from his hands.

“Are you sure? It’s really no problem for me to help clean. I did impose on you for a meal.”

“Nonsense. You go on home.” Mother waved him off. “Y/N, why don’t you see him off on my behalf?”

We both put on our outdoor shoes and began to walk together down the street towards his house.

“You’ve been coming to our house more and more often to eat.” I noted.

Satoru shrugged. “It’s nice having a home-cooked meal.”

“You could always cook your own, you know.”

“I’m really bad at portion control, and what good would it do me if I make a meal that could feed a family of six when it’s just my dad and I at home?”

“You could always use the leftovers as meal prep.” I suggested.

“Very true~” he snapped his fingers. “But,” he continued, “it’s not the same. Food always tastes better when someone else cooks it for you. I should find a nice lady to make my bride. Maybe then, I won’t have to pester you and your mom for food.” Satoru mused. His platinum hair glowed under the street lights, and I couldn’t help but admire his silhouette as my footsteps slowed and he walked in front of me.

He used to say that phrase when we were younger a lot. Back then it didn’t bother me as much as it does now. Maybe it was because back then I felt like I had nothing to worry about. But now… He actually had his sights set on someone.

Back then, Satoru and I were always there for each other when we were lonely. We both had things we were envious of each other. He still had his dad but had no mom, and I still had my mom but had no dad. We were all we had for a while.

Nonetheless…

At least I knew Megumi wouldn’t betray me like that.

“Why the fuck would you call me here so early on a Saturday?” he shivered as he rushed inside my house. “It’s fucking freezing outside.”

“Don’t be such a baby.” I huffed. “I’ll give you some hot cocoa if you’re that cold.”

“Why did you tell me to come over so early?” he asked, taking off his street shoes and putting on a pair of guest slippers. The two of us made way into my room, making sure to lock the door behind us.

“Well,” heat rushed to my cheeks, “my mom won’t be home until later tonight, and I thought…”

“You wanted to fool around now so we won’t get caught or in a rush?”

I bit my lip and nodded. I also wanted to talk to you about something…”

“And what’s that?”

“Well… I think we should lay off the PDA at school for a while.”

“How do you suppose we do that? We’re publicly a couple. Don’t you think the others will think something is wrong if we suddenly stop being all lovey-dovey and handsy?” Megumi asked, sitting down on my bed.

“I’m not saying we should stop altogether.” I sat down next to him, gently kicking my feet as they dangled over the edge. “Just not be too showy.”

“Why are girls so complicated about these things?” he huffed.

I shrugged. “I just don’t want Nii-san to find out… My mom told him you and I have been hanging out and he acted like it was a good thing. Encouraged me, even.” The very thought still made me feel queasy.

“Can you imagine telling Gojo we’re ‘dating,’ though?” the corners of his mouth lifted. He reached for a pair of sunglasses on your nightstand and put them on. “Gasp, Y/N? Do you have a boyfriend? And you didn’t tell me? Oh you’re growing up so fast! How dare you grow up so quickly before my very eyes?”

“That’s your worst impression of him yet, Fushiguro.” I laughed and smacked his shoulder lightly. “Stop already.”

Megumi grabbed my hand, bringing my palm up to his face. “I already stopped though.”

Once again we slipped into our usual routine.

Heavy breaths. Lips molded to one another. Tongues dancing together. Hands everywhere. Clothes on the floor. Sneaky fingers grazing the most sensitive of areas. Nothing beyond underwear though. This was a boundary neither of you were ready to break.

It dawned on me just how warm and soft Megumi's body was, and how here I was using him to fulfill my desires. I mean, it’s not like he wasn’t doing the same, but still. After being touched for the first time, I felt like I understood my existence better. If I don’t take these measures in order to ensure that I know for sure what it is that I want, then I’ll lose sight of what I desire most.

Confusion began to cloud my brain again, and tears threatened to spill from my eyes. A sob emerged from my lips, and a dam within me broke and I began to shake. Megumi wrapped his strong, slender arms around me, and I could hear him quietly shushing me, pressing kisses against the crook of my neck and all over my face.

“You’re alright, Y/N-chan. You look so pretty.”

My crying quieted down, and I looked up at Megumi over me, his night sky colored eyes gazing down on me. I knew that he was calling me by what he knew I wanted to hear, but in this moment all I could see was him. Although my heart wanted no one else but Satoru Gojo, all thoughts relating to him brought me heartache and pain. My mind was well aware of this.

I held on tightly to Megumi, wanting to revel just a little longer in his warmth. The thought of me becoming addicted to this warmth that only Megumi could provide creeped into my mind, but my heart knew very well that there was someone else I just couldn’t let go of.

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psychedellic-phase · 4 years

Text

Princess (smut)

A/N: I feel like this is definitely out of character but it literally would not leave my brain. also yes they are so toxic !!! I binge wrote this at 1 am so I hope you enjoyyy

tw: arguing, cursing SMUT! Oral (male receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, cheating & toxic relationships.

word count: 4.6 k

masterlist

It was Thursday. I knew I’d find him where he usually is on Thursdays: that corner table at O’Malley’s, the one below the neon ‘Corona’ sign.

I went most Thursdays, when I could, and sat at a table across the bar. It was the perfect place to watch him have two whiskeys, neat, and go home alone.

He hadn’t noticed me yet. It’s not like I looked different, I still looked like me but he looked better and better every time I saw him.

Was it weird to watch my ex-boyfriend that I swear I’m over from across a bar? Yes. Do I have a loving boyfriend at home waiting for me to come home every Thursday? Yes. Am I lying to this boyfriend? Yes. Am I completely over my ex like I say I am? Clearly not. Am I completely insane? Definitely.

It’s not my fault though, Spencer Reid just had to be all consuming. Addicting. Intoxicating. A human black hole who I’d happily fall back into any given day, but he couldn’t know that. It would just feel his already overinflated ego. He could never know about how all my thoughts revolve around him. Maybe he isn’t a black hole, maybe he’s the sun, and I’m just a planet spinning around him.

Every Thursday I tried to get up the nerve to go say Hi. And every Thursday I managed to get up the nerve the second he paid his tab and left.

But today, that was going to change. I was going to do it, just say Hi. It shouldn’t have been scary, I did spend six months of my life with him. He knows me, much better than I’d like to admit, and I know him. But he always knew how to make me twitch. The man could make me nervous, and men never make me nervous. No one ever makes me nervous.

I watched him as he sat, his hair longer than it had been when we were together. His suit looked the same, so did the gray cardigan and maroon tie. I vaguely remember having that exact tie around my wrists one night. He used his beautiful fingers to trace the rim of his cup, his brown hair covering his eyes lightly. His eyes, brown but hazel, like a golden green, with beautiful eyelashes I was always jealous of. They’re so long, he looks like he has mascara on.

Wait his eyes.

Eyes?

Shit.

I had made direct eye contact with him.

He saw me.

I saw him.

Fuck.

And now he’s walking. Towards me. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Here he is, right in front of me. God he’s so hot.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I just stared at him. He slid the chair across from me from out under the table without asking permission. He sat in it, whiskey in hand.

“So what exactly have you been doing here every Thursday for the last eight Thursdays, Y/N?”

I blushed lightly, but kept my composure. He knew how to make me nervous but I knew how to make him sweat.

“O’Malley’s makes the best cosmos in DC.”

He shifted in his seat, fingers drumming on the table, “It’s a mediocre cosmo at best. You’re here for me. So here I am.”

I sat up in my seat, “Mediocre cosmo, and mediocre company.”

“Mediocre?” He chuckled darkly, “If I’m so mediocre then why have you been watching me?”

Of course he figured me out, he’s a goddamn FBI agent. God I was stupid sometimes, but only with him. It’s like every time he spoke, half of my brain flew out of my head.

“Honestly, there isn’t much else to look at around here,” I gestured around the dingy bar, “And also, it’s been way longer than eight Thursdays. You should brush up on those observation skills, Dr. Profiler.”

His eyes darkened, “You never answered my question, Princess.”

I shuddered at the use of that nickname. I hadn’t heard it from him in a while, I just hoped he couldn’t see the effect it had on me. I evaded the question again, “The better question is why do you come here alone each week like clockwork?”

He shrugged, “Because you’re here every Thursday like clockwork.”

My mouth fell open slightly. He thought about me. I was weirdly proud of myself for that. He continued, “What? You think you were the only one watching? Please.”

I scoffed, “Then why wait so long to come over?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

I bit my lip, a dull flame forming in my belly, “I don’t come over because I have a boyfriend, and it would be inappropriate.”

He smiled, showing his beautiful white teeth, “Well that’s a lie.”

“It’s true!” I was offended. He acted as if another man would never want me, like the colossal pain the ass he always is.

“No, no, I believe the boyfriend. But the threshold of what is appropriate was passed when you lied to him for weeks just so you could get a good look at me.”

He was right. I did lie, about a lot of things and mostly to myself. God, why couldn’t I just love the nice guy? Why was it the infuriating, sexy, genius who I found myself in quicksand with?

“Stephan knows where I am.”

Another lie he’d see right through, but I didn’t care. I’d lie through my teeth if that meant that he would keep talking. God, how I missed his voice, his stupid, arrogant, beautiful voice.

Spencer looked at me straight in the eyes then, “Does he princess? That’s sweet.”

The condescension in his voice was palpable.

“You’re still so passive aggressive,” I said, leaning back in my chair to create space between us. He leaned forward, eradicating the space I just created.

“Yet you’re still here.”

I stood up then, feeling like the tension between us could suffocate me, “I’m getting another round. Neat?”

He nodded, “Make it a double, I think I’ll need it.”

I walked over to the bar, finally getting some air. I was already so hot, and it wasn’t from the packed bar. It was from the way his eyes looked through me, the way he said my name, the way he said ‘Princess’. I regained my composure and sauntered back over to him. Game on, Pretty Boy.

“So how’s what’s his name? Steven?” He said, taking his new drink.

I rolled my eyes, “It’s Stephan, but you knew that. You know everything.”

He chuckled cockily, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, “Well, how is Stephan?” He said the name with a fake posh accent, forcing me to hold back a laugh.

“He’s wonderful,” I responded, twirling the mini umbrella from my drink between my fingers. Spencer’s dark eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, reading me like a book. The same way he always had.

“No he isn’t,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Wh-,” I groaned, “Spencer, I swear he’s great!”

“You haven’t gotten any better at lying.”

“And you haven’t gotten less infuriating.”

“Infuriating? Me?” He was mocking me now, I crossed my arms in defense, hoping maybe he could read that body language, and shove it where the sun doesn't shine.

God why did he have to be like that? How did he always know exactly which buttons to press? And why did I like it? Why was I on fire from the moment he walked over?

“You were infuriating for the six months we dated, three years ago, and you’re infuriating now.”

He shrugged, “But you still like it. Some things never change, Princess.”

I blushed, knowing he was right, but not wanting to admit it, “I don’t like it. I hate it.”

He moved his chair closer to me at the table, so close I could smell him. He smelled the same way he did those years ago, and I had the same reaction. Thank god I was sitting; he made me so weak in the knees.

Snap out of it, Y/N. I ordered myself, Think of Stephan, yes. Stephan, beautiful, boring Stephan.

“Stephan isn’t infuriating,” I said, trying to ignore the way he licked his lips when he looked at me. God, I wanted to feel them against me.

“Oh really? What is Stephan like?” Spencer said, using air-quotes around his name, disgust dripping from each syllable.

“He’s nice.”

I avoided making eye contact, knowing full well how Spencer could see every lie I was about to tell. It wasn’t that Stephan was bad, he was just so, painfully, boring. If cardboard was a human being, it would’ve been Stephan.

“Nice? That’s all?” Spencer said it with an air of amusement.

“Well, he’s an accountant and he’s thirty-one.”

Spencer leaned close to me now, his breath smelling like whiskey and tickling my cheeks as he spoke, “Those are facts Y/N, I want to know what he’s like. Is he good to you? Does he make you happy?”

I gulped. There were the nerves. I was starting to twitch; his specialty.

“He’s wonderful. He’s charming. I couldn’t ask for a better man.”

Spencer leaned back, crossing his legs and drinking some more, waiting for me to continue.

“My parents love him. He’s smart, and handsome too.”

Spencer scoffed, “Your parents loved me.”

I rolled my eyes, “Well, he actually calls when he says he will, unlike you. Also unlike you, he’ll open doors for me because he isn’t scared of germs. He also doesn’t correct me every time I misspeak, instead he tells me I’m beautiful, and smart, and funny.”

We fell silent, both looking angry and defensive. He always could get to me like this. My body was hot and angry and so was his. He looked so good, it actually hurt. Could his lips be any pinker? Could his jawline be any sharper?

“I’m waiting for the ‘but,’” He said, taking me out of my head for a moment.

“But?”

“Yeah, what’s his fatal flaw Y/N?”

“Flaw? He has none. He’s literally perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“Yes!” I snapped.

“No one’s perfect. What’s his flaw?”

“None!”

Spencer kept badgering me, “What is it? Tell me, Princess. Tell me. Tell me what it is, you know you want to.”

It felt like a dam that was inside me had been broken, water and the truth pouring out at once, “He isn’t you!”

Spencer leaned back and smiled, “There it is.”

“Stephan is kind and gentle. We don’t scream, or fight. I don’t stay up crying and yelling and cursing! But he isn’t you, and I wish he was.” I gasped for air, not realizing I hadn’t been breathing, “There! Are you happy now?!”

Spencer was grinning, just like usual, “Very.”

I rolled my eyes, “Your turn.”

He raised his eyebrows and pointed to himself, “My turn?”

“Yeah, why have you been alone the last three years Reid? We both know you can have anyone in this place. Hell, Red over there has been eyeing you up for the last hour,” I gestured to the girl a few tables away who had been stealing glances at Spencer. An action that totally didn’t make my blood boil, at all, not even a little.

He avoided my gaze now, “You know why.”

Now I had the power back. I got close to Spencer, so only he could hear me. All my reservations were gone, I was in the black hole. The fire in my body that I hadn’t felt for so long was finally back, “I want to hear you say it.”

He got even closer, lips barely a millimeter apart, “Just like he isn’t me, no woman alive will ever be you.”

I smiled, proud of the confession. I pulled back. As much as I wanted him right now, right here on this sticky bar table, I am no cheater, and though I forgive, I never forget.

“Another difference between you and Stephan is that he won’t break my heart.”

Spencer smirked, “He can’t break your heart, because you feel nothing for him. There’s no love to lose.”

I sighed and ceded, “You’re right.”

“Always am.”

A comfortable silence followed, and my head was spinning. I don’t know if it was from the cosmos or from Spencer. He tended to do that to me. We both had softened. I was sad, because I knew it would never work. As much as I wanted it to, it wouldn’t. It didn’t three years ago. I just needed to live with it. You need more than passion to make it work. Hell, if all you needed was passion, Spencer and I would be growing old together right now.

“This isn’t healthy, you know?”

Spencer nodded, all aggression faded away, “I know.”

“This will never work.”

“I know.”

“No I mean like never.”

Spencer gave me a half smile, “You don’t have to convince me. I know.”

I sighed, reaching out to hold his hand in the most platonic way possible. His skin was warm. I missed the way it felt under mine.

“I just wish it would.”

He smiled sadly now, big brown eyes meeting mine and looking through me into my soul, “So do I, Princess.”

I laughed, “And stop calling me princess!”

“Or what, Princess?” He said it flirtatiously, his hand squeezing mine.

“Or I won’t be able to stop.”

“Stop what, Princess?”

“Stop myself from kissing you right now.”

He leaned in, lips barely an inch apart again, “Then don’t.”

And with that our lips touched softly, before we parted. The kiss was familiar but foreign. I’d felt it a million times before, but this one was different because the feelings were different. We stared at each other, before I stood, holding his hand.

“Follow me,” I said, the fire in my belly mixing with the delightful throb in my core. All reservations were gone. I needed him. I needed him right now, or I felt like I might explode.

He held my hand as we maneuvered between the crowd and ended up in front of the bathroom.

“Bathroom? Y/N there’s so many germs that’s-”

I had to cut him off by grabbing his shirt and pulling him into me. Our lips found each other so easily, like second nature. His were soft but chapped, I missed the way they felt on the rest of my body. I pulled him into the stall, and he pressed me up against a wall. His rough hands roamed my figure, landing on my hips and squeezing there. I pressed my hips into him, relishing the feeling. My hands found his hair, tugging at the roots to beckon his mouth open. He obliged, tongue moving across my lower lip and tangling with mine. Every movement sent twinges of pleasure to my core.

When we broke apart, he looked at me, his light brown eyes seeming impossibly dark with lust, the same darkness that they held just minutes before.

“Please, bedroom, not here,” He begged, and I silently agreed, peeling myself off of him.

I dropped a fifty on the table before stumbling out into the street for a cab. His hands never left my body, and his lips found mine every chance they got.

In the back of the cab he was on top of me, squeezing the flesh of my butt as I left butterfly kisses and sucked on his neck.

We showed up to my apartment, and ran inside. He pressed me up against the elevator door. “Princess, I need you,” he whined, making me moan into his lips.

“Soon, so so soon, fuck.”

I fumbled with my keys, but soon we were inside.

“Bedroom,” he ordered before crashing his lips against mine again, this time even more feverishly, if that was physically possible. I stumbled backwards in the general vicinity of my room, not wanting to break apart from him for even a moment. He pressed his large hand into my back, steadying me for a moment and took his lips off mine.

I whimpered, immediately missing the warmth of him on me.

“Lead the way, princess.”

I smiled wide at the use of that pet name. It always sent an extra jolt of pleasure to my center when Spencer whispered it.

Grabbing his hand I found the bedroom door. Before we even crossed the threshold his hands were on my body again, this time under my dress looking for panties to peel off.

“No panties? Were you waiting for this Princess?”

I nodded and groaned as I kissed him, moving my lips down and across his sharp jaw, flicking my tongue out every once in a while and sucking lightly on spots. Just enough for him to moan, but not enough for a mark. I felt my knees hit the mattress of my bed and I fell back onto it, Spencer towering over me.

I pulled my dress off, throwing it and my bra far away. I needed him to touch me. Now.

His hands were cold on my chest, making my hardened nipples even harder. He pinched the buds lightly, making me arch my back into his body.

He snickered, “Patience is a virtue, Princess.”

I groaned and pulled at his shirt, telling him I wanted it gone.

“Too many clothes,” I mumbled against his chest as I kissed whatever skin I could reach. He did as I wished, and I sat up on my elbows to watch. His muscles contracting as he pulled it off was enough to force me to rub my thighs together, desperate for any feeling. He undid his belt too, letting his pants fall to the floor and stepping out of them. His boxer briefs left little to the imagination, not that I was complaining. The light gray material was darkened in one spot from where his precum was dripping.

“Come back, Sir,” I begged.

His hands were on my shoulders and pushed me back so he could be on top of me again. The feeling of his chest against mine was maddening. I could also feel his member on my thigh, so close to my dripping heat, but still so far away. He distracted me with another kiss, his teeth coming out to bite my bottom lip. I moaned at the slight pain, running my hands all over his bare back. He worked his way from my lips to my jaw, leaving butterfly kisses in his wake. It drove me wild. I was bucking up into him, nails digging into his skin, sure to leave pretty red marks in their wake. He then made his way to my ear, sucking on the lobe ever so slightly.

“You know, the ears are an under-appreciated erogenous zone,” he said between nibbling and sucking on my ear and the skin around it.

“S-Spence,” I let out a breathy moan. Everything he did sent me reeling, clawing into his back begging for more. He really did drive me insane. His hand was back on my breast now, one arm was holding him up while the other pinched and played with my nipples.

As he kissed and sucked the soft skin of my neck I did the same to whatever skin I could reach. I sucked on his shoulder, right where it meets the collarbone, appreciating how his skin was a little salty.

I took one hand from his back and slid it between us, reaching down and toying with the waistband of his boxers.

“Princess,” he moaned right in my ear as I reached in and pumped his hard cock twice, flicking my thumb over the tip to smear around his precum.

He sat up, kneeling on either side of my thighs and I took that as my chance to pull the boxers down just enough for the pink head to bob out. I looked up at him through my eyelashes, his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat and his hair was covering his eyes, sticking to his forehead in some parts. He gave you a slight nod, and I sat up, immediately taking my tongue from base to tip.

He took in a sharp breath as I took the tip of my tongue into the slit at the head of his cock, collecting what had formed there. It was salty, but I didn’t mind. The taste was familiar. I selfishly went down to lightly suck on his balls, squeezing the one not getting any attention with my free hand. He sighed, hands tangling through my hair, tugging at the root.

I pushed on his stomach, “Lay down, I want to suck you right.”

I didn’t need to ask him twice. In a matter of moments I was straddling him, taking the head and sucking on it gently.

“Fuuuck,” he whined, “You give the best head princess.”

I smiled around his cock as I took it inch by inch into my mouth. My hands took whatever I couldn’t fit and I started at an agonizingly slow pace. Speeding up as his grip on my hair got tighter.

He moaned in approval, a slew of curse words and praises I could barely hear. I was just focused on swirling my tongue around his cock as he buried it in my throat. He bucked his hips in an attempt to face fuck me, and I allowed it. The head brushed against the farthest point in my throat, causing me to gag, saliva dripping down the sides of my face.

“You look so pretty when you gag on me Princess.”

I hummed around him in pleasure, toying with his balls again, begging him to cum in my mouth. Hearing him moan just made me more of a mess.

He tugged on my hair slightly, “No way, I’m cumming on those pretty tits.”

I smiled up at him and wiped off my mouth. Spencer caught me in another kiss, this one much more loving and tender than the previous ones. He cupped my face and stroked my cheek.

His free hand came between my bodies in the same move I had used on him, this time his lithe fingers rubbing my clit lightly, but only for a moment.

The kiss deepened into a full on teenage make-out, our naked bodies grinding against each other. I had never been so desperate in my life, wetness dripping down my thighs. His hands were on my ass, pinching and squeezing.

“Touch me,” I begged between kisses.

“Lay down Princess.”

We swapped positions again and I moved up the bed to lean on some pillows.

He kissed me, hand moving deftly to my aching core. He took the tip of his middle finger and swiped between my lips.

I shuddered at the touch, but it was taken away so quickly.

He leaned to my ear, his hot breath tickling my skin as he placed that same finger in my mouth. I sucked on it greedily, “So wet for me already Princess.”

He nipped at my ear lobe again, causing me to buck my hips up at him. He put his face just over mine, looking deeply into my eyes as he took one finger and put it all the way in.

I groaned happily at the contact, closing my eyes to savor it.

“Eyes open. Watch me.”

I opened my eyes, just as he added a second finger, curling them to find my g spot. I opened my mouth to moan but no sound came out. The pleasure of him in me was rippling throughout my touch-starved body.

“More Spencer, please ah- fuck- more!” I yelped. His free hand came up to my breast, kneading it and my nipple again. I moaned louder, more guttural this time. His fingers never stopped even as I clawed at his skin. My nails dragged along his back and my eyes never left his.

If my eyes looked anything like his, then they were clouded with lust and immense pleasure.

“Spence—“ I gasped as he added his thumb to circle my clit.

It felt intoxicating, like I was high on all the drugs at once. The vision of his perfect face went black at the edges, that feeling I missed so much forming in my stomach. He’s the only one who could give it to me.

“Use your words Princess,” he cooed, flicking his tongue between his lips.

“D-Don’t stop I’m close.”

He took this as a signal to go faster, his hands moving in ways I didn’t think possible. His thumb rubbed rough figure eights over my clit that was slick from my own wetness. When my breathing quickened and I tightened around him he knew I was close, leaning in to kiss me gently as I rode out my orgasm.

I moaned loudly into his mouth as the rubber band snapped, tingling and pulsing around his fingers. He coaxed me through it, milking me for everything I had. When he removed his hand and licked me off of his fingers, I whined. I needed something to fill me up; I needed him to fill me up. I felt so empty without him there.

“Want me to fuck you, princess?” He asked, his hands coming up to brush the hair out of my face.

“More than anything,” I managed out, still feeling delirious from the first orgasm.

“Your wish is my command,” and with that he placed his tip inside of me, moving slowly to allow me to adjust to him.

“Ah fuck,” we both groaned simultaneously.

“You’re so tight,” he muttered, finally filling me to the hilt and waiting for my signal to tell him to start.

“Fuck me, Spencer Reid, fuck me like you mean it,” I burst, and he did.

At first he started slowly, only moving a few inches in and out. I jerked my hips up, wanting to feel more. He thrusted in and out of me wildly, his hair bouncing with every motion and sweat dripping down his face.

I relished every movement, using my hands to tangle through his hair and my lips to suck on his neck as he leaned over me. He withdrew almost completely, then pounded back into me, the pain causing me to hiss.

The room was filled with primal, animal-like moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. I reached up and put two fingers in his mouth, which he licked with gusto knowing exactly what I was going to do with them. I mimicked his rough figure eights on my clit, wanting to cum with him.

“I’m close princess,” he panted, “Can I cum on those pretty tits?”

I just nodded, unable to find words as we climbed the mountain to our orgasms together. After a few more strokes he pulled out and brought himself to his orgasm, cumming all over my chest with a sigh. He flopped down next to me, overexerted. I continued circling and my own orgasm came seconds later and much less intense than the one he had given me prior.

Spencer stood up and grabbed a few tissues, wiping the fluid off my chest. When I was cleaned up I snuggled up against him, face to face.

“Are we going to talk about this?” He panted, still regaining his breath. He gingerly moved some hair from my face.

I sighed, “You know I’m never going to stop loving you?”

He smiled, “You know I’m never going to stop loving you too, Princess?”

Saying those words again took the weight of the last three years off my shoulders, but deep down I still had doubts.

“We won’t work.”

My voice cracked and tears were threatening my eyes.

He kissed my cheek, and pulled me against him, “We don’t know unless we try and I promise to be less infuriating this time, Princess.”

I turned so our lips met, “So let’s try.”

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kayleezra · 3 years

Text

How Did You Get Here? // (Frankie Morales x Reader)

Warnings; none

Word Count; 1534

Summary; You’re a university student working at a bar when a particular patron catches your attention.

You were working your normal shift as a bartender from 6 pm to 2 am. It was always quiet during the first 4 hours. 10 pm was when the crowd really picked up. So, during your spare time, you’d chat with co-workers and catch up on your textbook readings. You’re a university student and found that bartending to be the best way to earn money while also attending lectures. This place was by far our favourite. Other bars let the customers do whatever they wanted but, here the owner encourages you to put unruly customers in their place. Even the security was quick to pick out those that were about to cause a scene.

You were reading through your textbook, highlighting key points, when a group of 5 men walked in. One, in particular, caught your attention, he had longer stuffy hair hidden under a baseball cap and a moustache with matching stubble littered across his face. You quickly tucked away your book and walked over to where they sat.

“What can I get for you gentlemen?”, you ask scanning across every one of them.

A tan man with black hair sprinkled with grey and a matching 4 o'clock shadow ordered for the group.

“Shall I open a tab for you?”

“Yes, for Santiago por favor.”

Now, you weren’t fluent in Spanish but you knew the basics.

“No hay problema.”

You can’t help but notice this ‘Santiago’ and his friend gave you a slight look of shock. You went and grabbed their drinks and returned with a smirk across your face.

“I have to be honest with you guys.”

They all look at you, their attention now 100% on you.

“Yo no hablo Español pero, yo hablo Frencés.”

The man who caught your attention gives you a smirk, and before any of them get a chance to say anything you introduce yourself.

“I’m Y/N.”

The man furthest to your left is the first to speak.

“Will.”, he says while extending a hand to you which you kindly take. Introductions proceed to the right.

“Ben.”

“Tom.”

“Santiago.”

“Francisco.”

Bingo! It was Francisco. You didn’t notice that he held your hand longer than the others or that he gave you his first name and not his nickname but, Santiago sure did. Santiago was trying to get a rise out of Fish.

“Francisco huh? I thought you hated your name. You know, that’s why we all call you Catfish. Maybe it’s French accent she can use to say your name that’s got you intrigued.”

Francisco laughed him off and you and the other joined in. Because they were there before the rush you were sure to take good care of them. You told yourself you were just trying to get some good tips and not because you wanted to be close to Francisco. It was nearing 10 pm and the crowd was picking up, only Santiago and Francisco remained. It had been a while since you last checked on them but, their drinks had barely been touched and they were deep in conversation. You wanted to know what they were talking about but, you had customers to attend to. It was after midnight when Santiago flagged you down.

“I was starting to think you boys forgot about me.”

“Nah, couldn’t forget a beautiful lady like yourself. Santiago here just wouldn’t shut up.”, Francisco says and the two of you share a chuckle.

“What can I do for you two?”

“Unfortunately, this party is over.”, Santiago says with a lighthearted huff. The two of them get up from their stools.

“Okay, I’ll ring you up over there.”, you say while pointing to the nearest debit machine to your left.

You close their tabs and they pay, “Come by again, okay?”

“Don’t worry. We will.”, Santiago says with a smirk and while nudging Francisco.

You went back to their spot to clean up and found a neatly folded napkin. When you picked it up you realized it was heavier than it should have been. You opened it and found a tip but, it wasn’t the tip that grabbed your attention. Inside the napkin, there was a message that read, 'Maybe put this towards your textbooks. See you later, Sweetheart. -Francisco’. You couldn’t help but smile at the door they hand just walked out of.

The boys returned regularly. They had their own spots and came to catch up with each other. The came often enough that you knew when they came and left and even what their regular drinks. Santiago and Francisco came by more frequently than the others. You’d grown close to the group and even joined them from time to time when you weren’t working. Your affection only grew for Francisco. He started to plague your mind 24/7.

—-Present Day—-

You zoned out during your lecture. NO, it wasn’t the first time it had happened but, it was the first time that someone had caught you. Someone had been asking to borrow a pen and you hadn’t even noticed they were there until they tapped your shoulder. You jumped in surprise and apologized profusely as though they’ve caught you doing something you shouldn’t have been. This was an entirely new experience for you, your entire life you’d been focused on your education and career path. You’d never had a serious relationship because you were never looking and were preoccupied. Now, you were having a hard time focusing on anything else. The next time you see Francisco you’re going to admit your feelings, at least that’s what you told yourself. Just in spite of you, Santiago and Francisco showed up that night. Suddenly, you weren’t sure you could do it. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if all these months of back and forth flirting was all just for fun? Your entire shift you felt like you were going to vomit and you’d even eavesdrop on them. You clung to every word Francisco said like it’d be his last.

At one point during the night, Francisco left for the washroom. Santiago watched him carefully and as soon as he disappeared, he called to you. You rush over thinking something was wrong but before you can get a word out Santiago spoke.

“You like Fish right?”

Your heart fell to your stomach and you struggle to get the words out. You knew exactly what he meant but, you weren’t sure you were ready to admit it aloud.

“W-what do y-you mean?”

“C'mon. Since day one you’ve had eyes for him. You like him, enamoured with him.”

“That obvious?”

“Yes but, he feels the same so we’re staying till closing and the two of you are facing your feelings for each other.”

“Wait. I don’t know tha-”

“Yes, you can and you will. Now, scatter, he’s coming.”

You mindlessly do as your told. The shock of his words hit you hard. He feels the same? How did Santiago know about your feelings? The rest of your shift passed like a blur and you weren’t even sure when security started kicking the stranglers out. When a security guard approached Santiago and Francisco you snapped out of your trance and the weight of the world returned.

“They’re with me.”

“Alright well, they’re the only two left. I can trust you to lock up?”

“Yup, thanks again”

“No problem”

You and Francisco lock eyes, you blush as if he could see all your thoughts.

“I’ll give you two a minute. Remember what I told you, Fish.”, Santiago says while patting him on the back and making his way out. He’s at the door when he yells.

“You too Y/N.”

Then he leaves. Just you and Francisco remain.

You’d never been more nervous in your life but, you still walked around the bar and sat next to him.

“So… Santiago talked to you.”, Francisco states.

“Yeah, and you?”

He lets out a light chuckle, “Yeah. He’s always-”

You cut him off, “I like you. Like a lot. You somehow weaved your way into my heart and head. I can’t think straight and always want to be closer to you. It’s crazy because no one has ever had this effect on me, ever. I’ve barely dated but, when I look at you I just want-”

You only stop your hasty confession when his lips reach yours. You immediately kiss back, wrapping your arms around his neck while he holds your face tenderly. When you pull away, neither of you let go of each other and you reach your foreheads on one another.

“Me too.”, he says out of breath.

“Really?”

He nods before pulling you in for another kiss. You don’t think you would have pulled away if it weren’t for Santiago. He must have snuck back in because he’s at the door clapping. The moment the two of you pull away in shock he opens his mouth.

“I told you two! Looks likes you both owe me.”

You roll your eyes and giggle with Francisco.

“I may not be fluent in Spanish but, the amo Francisco.”

“Mmm. I love how you say it. You should probably say it more often because te amo mucho Y/N.”

#francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #catfish morales #pedro pascal characters

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

Text

The Dark Team (part 13)

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(Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @the-departed-potato, @jesuswasnotawhiteman, @idontknow296, @beksib, @spythoschei, @geekwritersworld, @whatafuckingdumbass, @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 @toe-vind-ek-jou @joscelyn02, @t00-pi, @irwxnhugsx )

Warnings: creepy man, hungover (alcohol mentions), abduction mentions.

Chirping birds woke you up as the light hit your face. It was a slightly sunny morning, you could see. A cold one, too. Your head ached; yesterday’s wine was stronger than you’d think. You remembered very little, and the hangover weighed on your feet as you tried to stand up. Soon, that weight redistributed up to your head, dizziness almost throwing you back in bed.

With much more effort than before, you got up and walked slowly to the kitchen, glancing around. Last night, a sticky kid fell asleep on the doorframe. You chuckled and decided to not wake him up. Loki was nowhere to be found; must be sleeping in his own room, if he had one by then.

An ibuprofen and some cold water later, you checked the time. It was so early; six in the morning. You decided to get working already; maybe someone on the team was awake. If not, you could at least take things off your to-do list for the day and get time free at noon to play videogames with Peter, or help him with that Lego Stark Tower he has been trying to build for almost two weeks now. A nice walk in the park to get some fresh air until some coffee shop opened; that’s what you needed.

The streets were emptier than you’d imagine, and then you realized it was saturday. Peeping in, a coffee shop next block was already opening, and people were lining up to get in. You made sure to have brought money and a laptop with you, and as you reached your pockets you realized you had your suit on, under normal clothes. Well, at least I’m prepared for anything now. Even a sunday morning in a lovely coffee shop, you thought, laughing to yourself. If Tony saw you like this, he’d recall that word he says you inherited from him. Paranoid. But no, Stark, I’m just hungover. Good to know your first instinct once you get up off bed is to suit up. Tony'd be proud. And a little disappointed, too.

You got a table far from the window, wall behind your back making sure nobody could eye your laptop. Once you were settled in and your coffee was getting cold, you started working. You were so glad you were out of the public eye, so you could afford yourself all of these outside activities. Sounded stupid, but if you were to have dinner with Sam, or Steve, or Thor, you’d have to also deal with paparazzis all night long. Actually, in dining out with Thor, paparazzis would be the least of your problems.

“Hey”, greeted Bucky from the other line. “It’s so early, what are you doing up?”.

“Buck, it’s already ten”.

“Oh”, he said, and you heard a sliding curtain by his side. “Oh, there it is. Sunlight”.

“Why are your times all twisted?”.

“We stayed up until five”.

“Doing what?”.

“Let’s say the mini bar was not so mini”.

“Oh my God”, you laughed, and checked for your work on the laptop. “At this point, I think the only one who didn’t get drunk last night is Spidey. Ah. Listen, I’ve arranged today’s plan, and it has to go right or else you can get abducted again. And we don’t want that, okay?”.

“I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do now. Didn’t we already get the stick?”.

“That’s the point, there’s more… you know, bottles hanging around” you lowered your voice. The coffee shop was almost empty, but just in case, you kept it under your breath. “That’s why you gotta get into Hydra’s last base again. Do not go alone”.

You instructed Bucky and then he tried his best to put you on speaker to the rest of the team, but failed. None of them could actually figure out how to do it; Steve was even less familiar with cell phones, and Thor… well, not even elaborating on him. The only Asgardian who seemed familiar enough with Midgard’s technologies was sleeping soundly on the compound. You had to explain the plan thoroughly another two times individually, and then finally hung up and got to work, sending them coordinates and turning off Hydra’s hacked security cameras.

Once they were already in, you had not much more to do. At least for a few hours, they’d be completely submerged in there, and your help wasn’t needed anymore. You still planned for some outcomes and didn’t even notice the man standing in front of you.

“Excus…”.

“OH... my God”, you gasped, taking yourself off your hyper focused state. The man chuckled. His teeth, yellow, seemed like he didn’t know anything about dental hygiene. His clothes were perfectly cleaned, though, in a tidy office-type suit; but his hair was hidden by a peaked cap that barely let you see his eye expressions. Very weird looking. Hard to read. Just now unemployed? Dressed like that to get attention? You frowned and closed all tabs, opening a fake account of email and some cheap online magazine. “What do you need?”.

“Can I sit here?”.

“No”.

He smiled weirdly and manspreaded in the chair you told him not to sit in. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“What are you doing?”, he asked.

You ignore him and keep pretending to read your mails, eyeing how many people were in there too. It was getting fuller than before. If he wanted to steal your laptop he’d have to do it in front of all of these people, and cross the whole coffee shop. He wasn’t planning on stealing. You made a security copy of all the files anyways.

“You have pretty eyes”.

You ignored him again, but now understood his intentions. God, people could be so shameless sometimes. You literally told him to go away. You’ll repeat it, just in case he would actually listen this time.

“Go away”.

He chuckled and stayed in place.

“I just want to talk, sweetie”.

“Sure. I’m not interested”.

“You have a boyfriend?”.

“I have a very strong fist”.

He got closer, leaning on the table, and lowering his voice said “You’re working on the supersoldiers mission, yes?”.

You froze. Suddenly, the creepy man was a bigger threat than you’d anticipated. Your hand hovered over the gun in your pocket, holding strong eye contact with him.

“Who are you?”.

“What do you have in your pocket?”, he teased.

“Wanna find out?”, you threatened.

Looking over his shoulder, an all-too-familiar fifteen year old hid behind a pile of coffee cups from the bar counter, holding his breath to not laugh. You sighed and broke the tension.

“Funny. Very funny. I almost shoot you, you know”.

“That’s not a very good instinct”.

“Not an instinct, I truly wanted to shoot you”.

“You sure were, pancake”, he said as he transformed back into himself, still in those ugly clothes covering half his face. As he looked down to himself, he frowned and changed his clothes to an Asgardian armor. “But your mortal bullets would be no more than a caress to my skin”.

“Let’s give it a try, shall we?”, you cocked your gun, joking. He laughed, and Peter got increasingly nervous as you played with your toys in a public and safe place, surrounded by civilians. “Don’t worry, Pete, it’s fake”.

Peter sighed in relief as you clarified and put it back in your pocket, and Loki smirked, knowing perfectly well you just lied.

“Why don’t we get something to drink, too, mr. Loki?”.

“Yeah, whatever you want, kid”.

“Not a kid”.

“Apologies. Actually, can you order it? I’m afraid Midgardians don’t usually take kindly to my presence”, he asked. Peter nodded.

“I do, mr. Loki”.

"What?".

"Take it kindky".

Loki smiled and raised his eyebrows, a bit confused. Muttered an “I’m glad” and instructed him to get an americano, while you packed your laptop in the backpack.

"How's the incognito working out for you in your shiny armor?"

"Better than before. At least now I'm comfortable while getting the same bad looks I always get anyways".

"Shapeshifter can't manage to hide, how ironic", you said, giving him one of the new earbuds, with an attachable mic. "Since you have good strategy plans and you sort of know what you're doing, work with me".

"I thought we were already working together. You know, in this stupid thing called The Dark...".

"Yeah", you interrupted him, rolling your eyes once again. "From behind the scenes, I mean. This is so you can listen to whatever my earbud hears. Don't bite your tongue if you have any inputs, I'm running out of solutions".

Your phone rang again as you were getting up.

“Yes?”.

“It’s all gone to trash, y/n. We need a new plan, I can’t find Buck anywhere. What’s your backup?”, rushed Steve’s voice. It sounded like it was from a public service phone, and the static didn’t let you hear Steve’s surroundings. Loki looked at the floor, concentrating. He didn't find anything either, and was too far away to read his mind.

“Wait. What do you mean you can’t find him? You were supposed to keep an eye on him so he doesn’t get kidnapped again”, you said, opening your laptop again and looking for Bucky’s location. He didn’t have it on him.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant with ‘it’s all gone to trash’”.

“Okay, don’t freak out. Where are you?”.

“Hydra’s last base, top of the buil…”.

“Hold up, I have another incoming call”. You put him on hold and see who’s calling. It was Bucky, this time. You sigh out of relief. Peter watched you two concerned while approaching you with two coffee cups. You gestured to him to not talk, and Loki had started to type things in your computer. “Buck, where are you? What happened?”.

On the other side of the line, you didn’t get a specific answer. You heard muffled noises that you still couldn’t quite figure out what they meant, and more than one person behind the phone.

“Buck, you there?”, you asked once again. Bucky’s voice filled the silence with a heartrending scream of agony. You almost dropped your phone, and your heart beated to the speed of light. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. They have him. “Buck!”.

“Three hours”, called someone, probably one of the Hydra butchers. “You have three hours”.

“Three hours for what?!”, you tried to hold them on the line while tracing the call. It was from a specific coordinate, nobody could get there unless they teleported. Luckily, you had the perfect person for the job. Loki looked at you quizzically.

"Do we not have better people on it? Can't Stark go?".

You returned to Steve’s call, while thinking about some other alternative than taking you three there (including Peter). “They have Bucky. Location’s very far away from where we all are, so you try to get out of there and go to Asgard with Thor; they’ll try to kidnap you too, and Hydra’s resources are global. No, don’t argue, you screw up, now you do exactly as I say”.

“Do you think they’re the same that hijacked the ship on the first part of the mission?”, asked Loki once you cut the call.

“They might. We have to go get him, there's no other way. The rest of the team comes back tomorrow and they can't leave”.

“No, I have to go”, said Loki. “But I’m supposed to stay with you two and make sure you’re not endangered, and I’m sure if I leave you here all alone, you’ll try to come by your own means”.

“Which means”, you added, “if you take us with you, you can make sure we don’t endanger ourselves”.

“This is a terrible idea”.

“But the only one so far”, you convinced him. “Pete, feeling like going on a dangerous mission?”.

“Hell yeah!”, he said eagerly. Loki was not very fond of his enthusiasm.

“I can do this”, you assured him. “Do you trust me?”.

“Yes”. He didn’t hesitate. “But I don’t trust them. You two will stay behind me facing the danger, alright? Nothing of wanting to play heroes”.

“Got it. Let’s suit up, fellas. Bucky’s waiting”.

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snowpeawritings · 3 years

Text

As Long-Standing As The Earth

Every day, Zhongli stares down at a little cube. The cor lapis-colored thing humming with Geo energy as the little dial that shows on one side slowly ticks.

When the dial reaches its peak, Zhongli feels like the earth is alive again.

Reader is gender neutral

CW (CONTENT WARNING): Reincarnation AU, Modern AU, Zhongli character story spoilers, blood warning

❄ Snowpea’s words: LET’S GO ZHONGLI BANNER DROPPING TOMORROW I WROTE 2K WORDS LIKE I PROMISED--

The first time he held the little cube, you were dying in his arms.

It shouldn't shake him, he thinks. He is the god of war, death became a norm when mortals and archons alike are associated with him. He is the long-standing pillar that brought his army to victory. Just like the earth that continues to stand, just like his energy that reshaped the land, he will not bow to whatever danger his immortal lifetime will experience.

It shouldn't shake him. It shouldn't shake his hands when he holds your lifeless corpse, your blood running down his skin like water weathering down stone. It shouldn't.

Yet it does. Each stream of blood crumbled his visage, eyes pleading at your dead ones to see if you will laugh at how ridiculous he looks. He would take any sort of jest from you just to see you that you were even capable of making jokes while bleeding out.

You never did.

And just like sand, he crumpled down onto the earth, hoping that he would be swallowed in when the gods took you away from him.

The second time he held the cube, it was when he used it for the first time.

He remembers it fondly; you were pledged to him beyond Teyvat's mortal realms, as a god and a mortal who were sworn to each other. You joked about it, saying you two were practically married to each other and wondered if he hated the fact that he had been tied down to a mortal.

Before, he would've laughed at the thought and said that you were silly.

He wished he could've done more than just laugh at your insecurities.

The Guili Plains were slowly coming to life as he spent his energy on making his abode. You mentioned to him before that you would've loved to sit back and eat your favorite cuisine underneath a red tree, surrounded by water as the sound of nature encompasses your dining wonderfully. He had hoped that the tree in the center was big enough for you to see.

As if realizing his fondness, a little cube-no bigger than his palm-glowed from his pocket. It hummed with elemental energy as he gasped at the dial pointing at its peak.

Terraforming would have to wait.

Ever since the Archon War, he began to loathe being an archon.

He sees old friends come and go or worse, die during the war. It wouldn't be a surprise that he was used to death.

No… that's not how he would describe it.

He was used to loneliness…?

Close.

Ah, he grew tired of being lonely. He supposes that was an agreeable feeling to describe him. The price of him wanting to end his loneliness was a price his heart couldn't bear. He was a smart god, cleverly providing strategies in order to gain the upper hand in the war.

Clearly, he wasn't smart enough to know the long-term consequences of his need.

The gods had warned him and he stood his ground as resolute as the mountains of Liyue.

The bustling village greeted his sight. Newcomers of Liyue and old villagers walked around, giving space for him to walk. Whether it was fear or admiration towards the archon, he couldn't care less. He set sight on a rather large house, its windows and doors opened for the public as wounded laid down on cots. Victims of people attempting to colonize Liyue, Treasure Hunters, or the sad case of Hilichurls, he couldn't care less.

He spots the aura of yellow energy before he could properly see the person. They were wearing a nurse's outfit, caked with blood and unknown grime from treating patients. Yet he never saw a more beautiful sight.

He approaches you and he feels the cube in his hand vibrate in tune with your aura. Making a deal with the devils be damned, he can never throw this opportunity away because he was an immortal.

"Oh, hello sir!" You greeted him and he felt the earth tremble slightly from your voice. "What can I help you with?"

He smiled at you, placing his palm in front of his chest pocket where the cube hummed. "My name is Zhongli. I heard that you are an excellent doctor?"

The third time he held the cube, he nearly threw it away along with his past.

He was no longer Morax, or Rex Lapis. He was just Zhongli, the head of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.

It was ironic, to be connected to a place of death and moving on when he tries to do the same thing. Not once did the thought of moving on never crossed his mind. Not once did the thought of giving up his life never crossed his mind because he was so tired.

His past seemed just as resolute as the earth, he thinks bitterly.

The cube that he wanted so badly to discard still kept reappearing in his sight. Whether throwing it outside the window or burning it in the fireplace or even chucking it at the Chasm. It doesn't matter, it keeps reappearing like it was gloating at him. Like it was sneering at him as it reminds him about this perpetual curse that follows him until his dying breath.

But that doesn't matter at the moment. He has a job to do as the head for doing the rite of passing. He follows the Traveler to the floral boutique, wanting to buy the best Silk Flowers for Rex Lapis's passing.

How fitting.

Before he could try to get a word out for the history of Silk Flowers, his words got trapped in his throat. He sees the same yellow aura that he associated with the color of Geo. No matter how much time has passed, he knows those vibrant colors anywhere. The cube inside his coat hummed annoyingly like it was trying for him to do something. You were blissfully unaware of his longing stare, busy trying to barter against a merchant for the cheapest price of cor lapis.

Oh, how much he wanted to march right next to you and barter with the merchant himself, say that the cor lapis he sold couldn’t hold a candle to the aura that you emitted, that he was willing to put the price of the cor lapis on his tab because you were worth it--

"Mr. Zhongli?" The Traveler's travelling companion asks. "Are you okay?"

He ignores them, chest tightening at the thought of seeing his love for the third time. "I… lost my thought. I apologize."

Stand as resolute as the earth, Zhongli scolds himself. You can't stay like this forever.

... Forever is nothing compared to an archon, though.

After having dinner with the Traveler with a smooth rite of passing, he would've loved to take Barbatos's advice and drink until he can't think.

The fourth time he held the cube, it was when he felt his powers slipping away.

The times have changed, he fears, for the Statues of the Seven slowly dwindled out until they were almost ruined. The age of metal and alchemy conquered Teyvat instead of the elemental energy and Visions that people possessed. He couldn't heal using the broken down Statues but at least he could share one last drink with Barbatos before the inevitable.

"You should see them build the first plane!" He said excitedly as he downed his umpteenth drink. "Looks like they don't need the winds from their archon anymore!"

Somehow, he wishes he could share Barbatos's anguished laughter as he drank himself into forgetfulness.

The age of innovation grew higher and higher towards its peak while Zhongli's powers grew lower and lower. Unsurprisingly, he doesn't mind it.

Anything to get rid of the blasted cube.

He gave up trying to get rid of it. Gave up on trying to find his love when the dial hits its peak. If giving away his gnosis meant that the cube would no longer work, he would. Even more so with the depletion of everyone's belief at Archons.

He hopes.

Alas, it appears Celestia would laugh at Zhongli's hopes, for when the cube glowed for another time, he nearly tore his hair out.

How many lifetimes? How many more heartbreaks? How many more funeral rites?

And yet he seemed to be the biggest fool despite being the eldest Archon, for when he sees you, an inventor innovating the new gadgets for tomorrow, he felt the earth beneath his feet tremble.

He missed this feeling.

"Hello sir!" You greeted him with enthusiasm that he wished he could relate to. "Care to see the future of mankind?"

He is the biggest fool there was. "I would love to."

And he may as well die as a fool.

The fifth time he held the cube, he was only fidgeting it around.

Funeral parlors were becoming commonplace but not a lot of customers. With globalization and the new funeral trends being used, people have mixed feelings about having such an expensive and extravagant rite of passing.

And it also doesn't help that he gets confused when some people don't even bother asking for his services. They just stare at him with a wiggly smile on their lips.

Regardless, he won't look a gift horse in the mouth. He sees the dial on its peak but he doesn't pay heed to it. He gave up. With how many people there are and newer countries emerging, he lost hope.

No, more like he doesn't care anymore.

It was probably an insult to you-no-it was a clear insult and it was scary that he doesn't care anymore. He can't be the man that existed before, assisting the Traveler and Childe. He can't be the broken down Archon that shared drinks with Barbatos. He was so goddamn tired that he deserves this sanctuary.

If he could even call it that.

And yet, he persisted. Not for Guizhong, not for you, but for himself.

He takes his time with his tea, relishing in the flavors as he used this time to calm himself. The sounds of the clock ticking, the ceramic of his cup hitting the table, and the distant sound of birds chirping were all welcomed to his ears. It appears that his daily tea rituals haven't changed at all ever since he was born.

As he sips up the last bit of his tea, a knock broke him out of his concentration. He allowed entry.

An employee under him bowed before straightening his back. "Mr. Zhongli, you have a customer."

He sets down the cup. "Bring them in."

The employee nodded at him before walking back to fetch the customer. He fixes his tie and moves his finished tea away, wanting to look best for the customer.

Hearing an extra set of footsteps, he raised his head to greet the customer but he felt the earth tremble.

Maybe Celestia had enough of his sulking as he sees you smile at him like the first of you smiled at the archon all those millenia ago.

"Hello, Mr. Zhongli," you greeted and his name never sounded so poisonously sweet in his ears, "I hope you aren't too busy with what I have to ask…"

He may as well start his own funeral rites for himself.

He takes a while before composing himself, not meeting your eyes as he gestured to the vacant seat on his left side. He can’t meet your eyes even when you sat down and smiled politely at him. It felt like his heart stopped, then jump started like an engine.

“So, um…” You said, fiddling with the tips of your fingers and Zhongli had to resist the urge to take your hands in his. “Mr. Zhongli, I was hoping that I could ask you something.”

He steeled his spine in order to not show the shiver he felt when he heard you say his name. Gods, when has it been that your past reincarnation said his name? Even in a non-romantic way? “Well, as long as it is within the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s power, I’ll do what I can.”

This time, you averted your eyes from him, your hand moving to scratch the back of your neck. “About that… it’s not really something related to the funeral parlor perse…”

He raised his brow, your nervousness almost easing him. “Oh?”

Your face flushed and Zhongli can’t help but feel his heart race just like before. “It’s ah… It’s just that I have a research thesis that I’m doing and for some reason, the people I’ve asked recommended you.”

He slightly deflated, then wondered why he felt disappointment in the first place. “A research thesis? Pertaining about...?”

You immediately perked up and you reached out from behind you. Your bag was sitting behind you, smooshed against the chair as Zhongli watched you curiously. From your backpack, you fished out a laptop, a heavy history book, a slim book, two notebooks, and a pencil case that’s practically bursting at the seams with stationery. You set them down on the table, the force clattering the plates but nothing was spilled.

You booted up your laptop, getting one of your notebooks and grabbing a pen. When the laptop finally booted up, you logged in and presented Zhongli what was on the screen.

He felt the earth tremble from his knee knocking up against the table.

‘History of Rex Lapis And Their Influence On The Modern World’

“I’m a huge fan of history, you see!” You explained quickly, grabbing the large book that shows an old copy of Rex Lapis Incognito, a book that he hasn’t seen a while. “I really appreciate everything that the old archons did for the world, even if people don’t believe in them anymore. I especially have a fondness for the adepti but they’re even more forgettable-but I don’t mean it in a bad way! I want to write this with intentions of people remembering what both archons and adepti did for Teyvat…”

He zoned out soon after you said ‘history’. He wasn’t the type to pray for a blessing when, after all, you’re a literal god. But it comes to a time where, after heartbreak after heartbreak, he grows tired and soon goes numb. He thought he hardened his heart ever since he subjected himself to this but it appears even bedrock can be reduced to dust.

He let out a small, shaky breath before raising his head. That doesn’t matter now. He was Zhongli, used to be adeptus, used to be archon, but now: a man.

He couldn’t be any happier.

“I admire your fondness for researching ancient history.” He said, cutting off your rambling. “I may not be as knowledgeable as any other book, but I will try my best. We should speak about this somewhere else, though. It would be dreadful to speak in a funeral parlor.”

Just like terraforming, he can be rebuilt.

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli imagines #snowpea writes #scenario #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH ZHONGLI BANNER DONT HURT ME KSDKFNSKF #I OFFER THIS AS TRIBUTE

241 notes · View notes

meltwonu · 4 years

Text

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 | [CHAPTER 4]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; masturbation, usage of toys, dirty talkin’, a bit of a filler chapter after last weeks hehe🍒 as always, thank you again for your continued support for cherry bomb 🥺💕 I'm actually not sure if next week’s chapter will go up on time due to my work schedule for next week but I'll be sure to keep y’all updated! if anything it’ll probably go up on saturday instead of friday... 😭😭 But anyway, have a good weekend yall! 💕💕💕 stay hydrated!!

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - ?

The weekend ends quicker than Seungcheol even notices and while he wakes up Monday morning already thinking about you and your show later in the evening; his face falters when he reads the message on your cam homepage.

‘Sorry everyone :( I think I caught a cold so I won’t be doing a show tonight… I promise I’ll make it up to you on Friday! In the meantime, I’ve uploaded some new pics in our members only room~ I hope it’ll tide you all over ‘til then! xx Cherry 🍒 ’

His first reaction is to immediately panic; reaching for his phone and texting you to get as much rest and sleep as possible. He makes a mental note to check in with you again later, finding that he’s already running late to get to work when he gets out of bed.

“Hey! Seungcheol-hyung!”

The said male turns around, placing the set of roller skates on the ground. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Jeongguk sits next to him on the wooden bench, legs stretched out as he passes Seungcheol an energy drink. “Nothin’, just wanted to say thanks for coming over on Saturday! We should try to do that again, except maybe we can go out for drinks or something? We can give it the good ‘ol college try, maybe bring home a girl, if you know what I mean~” Jeongguk wiggles his eyebrows at Seungcheol who rolls his eyes.

“Uh, I’m down for the drinking part but I think I’ll have to pass on the hookups.”

“Really? Why? Are you dating someone and you haven’t told me?”

Seungcheol thanks the gods that the roller rink is dimmed; neon lights and disco balls the only things keeping the entire place dimly lit when he blushes a deep crimson, face hot as he avoids the younger male’s gaze. “Nah, it’s just, I--I don’t think that’s really for me. I’m more of a, uh, relationship type of guy, y’know?” Also, I’m devoting my time and energy to someone already who isn’t really my girlfriend.

“Mm, makes sense!”

Jeongguk keeps Seungcheol company even on his break, the two chatting about various topics before he lets Seungcheol know his break is almost over.

“Hey, wait! Before you go…” Seungcheol is nervous for some reason, fingers gripping the suede of the rollerskate’s boot as he avoids eye contact again. “Um, this is gonna sound really weird but… Who’s ‘j__min’? I feel like I’ve seen that username before and it’s, uh, I’m just curious how you know them? Sorry if that’s weird, I just--I’ve been seeing them around pretty often.”

“Oh, that’s Jimin-hyung. He’s a friend of mine that games with me sometimes! I’ve never really met the dude in person before, but he seems nice.” Jeongguk nods, staring off into space. “He seems really busy all the time too. And he’s super active on social media, that’s probably where you’ve seen him.”

Seungcheol nods; the guy didn’t seem like any sort of immediate threat so he logs the information mentally for now. He’d just have to do some internet sleuthing himself when he got home.

“Oh, cool, okay! Thanks ‘Guk!”

Seungcheol groans after the seventh pair of skates he’s cleaned, standing up to stretch and reach for his phone in his pocket. He checks the notifications, noting that you hadn’t texted back or read his messages yet.

A frown paints his features knowing that you were sick, but he makes another mental note to finally buy you that sybian now that his most recent paycheck had come in with it’s overtime bonuses. There were only a few more days until Namjoon came back which meant his extra pays would be over, a sad sigh escaping his lips at the thought.

The day gruels on; Mondays were always the slowest days for the roller rink which meant Seungcheol spent most of the time cleaning skates and bumming snacks from the concession stand usually. He tries to not pry deeper into Jeongguk’s friends but the curiosity eats him alive so he makes an effort to stay away from the younger male for the rest of the day, this time.

Instead, he spends the day hiding in the employee break room any time he gets; only leaving when Yoongi decides to hide in there himself.

Your head feels like it’s going to spin off of your shoulders once you sit up in bed. The sun sits low in the horizon from what you can see through your bedroom window; noting that it must’ve been the late afternoon already.

You’d woken up with chills, head fuzzy when you’d sat up earlier in the morning. Knowing that you were at least somewhat sick, you quickly wrote up a little memo on your homepage letting your viewers know that there wouldn’t be a show later in the evening. Afterwards, you had quickly downed medicine before curling up under your sheets and going back to sleep. You’d vaguely been aware of your phone ringing on the nightstand next to your bed, but you prioritized sleeping instead, knowing that you had to get better before the weekend came.

You groan once you ease yourself off of your bed, dragging your feet as you make your way to the bathroom in hopes of a warm bath to make yourself feel better.

It’s almost 5PM which means it’s almost time for Seungcheol to finally go home. He checks his phone one more time before he pockets the device, putting away the last few pairs of rollerskates before he starts making his way towards the backroom.

“Hey! ‘Cheol-hyung, can you come over here!?” Jeongguk yells over the music, arms waving him down frantically before he clocks out.

Seungcheol walks over, noting an unknown male standing with him. “Yes? Did you need help?”

“This guy, sorry I forgot your name?” The male laughs, eyes forming crescents when he smiles brightly at Jeongguk. “It’s Seokmin.”

“Right, right. Seokmin is asking if we’re hiring?” Jeongguk ends with a head tilt, unsure of the answer himself.

Seungcheol bites the inside of his cheek. Technically yes, they were understaffed even with Namjoon around. But Namjoon was also technically the one in charge of overseeing hiring positions. And while they technically should’ve hired more staff, that also meant Seungcheol’s overtime bonuses would be cut anytime they actually had the appropriate amount of staff.

“Uhhhh… I--I don’t think so? I’m not the one in charge. Our manager that decides staff and hiring positions is out of town indefinitely so…” Seungcheol trails off, hoping Seokmin gets the hint.

“Ahh… Should I come back another time then?” Seungcheol nods, frowning slightly. “Sorry ‘bout that man. But hey, why don’t you leave your contact info so we can call you? So you don’t have to keep coming back.”

Seokmin nods, beaming at the older male.

“Sure, that’d be great! Thanks!”

Seungcheol only feels slightly bad when he gets home that night, praying karma doesn’t kick his ass later for lying.

On days when you cancel your show are the days Seungcheol realizes he needs more hobbies than watching your cam shows and gaming all night.

Not that it’s a bad thing, he thinks, just that he could supplement his life with more.

He places an order for a few cookbooks alongside the order for the sybian, soft chuckles spilling from his lips when he realizes what an odd array of things he’s ordered.

Seungcheol manages to fill his night with meaningless tasks; finally cleaning his PC and settling in to watch a movie while he polishes off an entire pizza. He checks his phone a few more times, noting no new messages and he wonders if you’re really okay. A lightbulb goes off in his head, power walking back to his PC as he opens a new browser.

He bites his lip, typing in ‘j__min’ in the search bar to see what comes up. By nature, the username is unfortunately a lot more common than he anticipates and he ends up rifling through a lot of dead ends before he comes upon the profile on the same camming website you used and an instagram that seemed to be updated fairly regularly.

“Let’s see…”

Your body feels hot all over. Pin pricks on your fingertips as a bead of sweat trickles down your temple.

Now, you didn’t feel sick, you just felt incredibly insatiable. Again.

You weren’t sure if it was because your body had adjusted to a certain schedule, but you can’t help the way you toss and turn in bed; thighs rubbing together in hopes of alleviating the growing wetness between them.

Checking the clock, you note it’s already 10PM, close to when you’d normally be doing your show. You sigh, pushing your sweaty hair out of your face as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. You immediately notice a few text messages from Seungcheol; frowning when you notice the text messages were from the morning.

cheollie ✨: hey, baby :( saw your note, i hope you’re okay.

cheollie ✨: make sure to drink a lot of water and take medicine!

cheollie ✨: don’t push yourself too hard either okay?

The messages end there and you pout, unsure what to even say now that it had been hours since he’d texted.

babygirl 🍒 : cheollie… i only saw ur msgs now 🥺

babygirl 🍒 : im sorryyyyy i was sleeping so long but i feel better now!!

Seungcheol closes all his browser tabs before he realizes it, a smile on his face when he sees you’ve responded.

‘That’s okay, I’m just glad you’re okay and feeling better. Promise me you drank tons of water?’

He feels giddy, palms sweaty as he grips his phone.

babygirl: mmhmm! i did… i don’t even feel sick anymore 🥺 but…

babygirl: dunno… i’m feeling needy again… i think my body is used to my usual schedule...

Seungcheol’s body thrums with newfound energy and arousal at your leading comments. He’s unsure of what to say next, fearing he was going to say too much. But his phone pings again, eyes quickly flitting over your messages.

babygirl 🍒 : if ur busy its okay but

babygirl 🍒 : do u think we could cam? just u and me?

babygirl 🍒 : only if ur free tho!!

His fingers are tingling when he sends his reply, making it short and sweet before he places his phone down and makes sure his PC is running smoothly.

‘Of course, you know I’m always here when you need me. :)’

It takes a few minutes for you and Seungcheol to set up your respective spaces and in the meantime, you grab your laptop, propping it open on the bed next to you as you lay in front of it. You had debated on using your better camera which you used for camming, but you didn’t want it to be set up like a cam show.

Instead, you wanted a more intimate and casual video call with Seungcheol, so you made sure your webcam worked fine as you placed it on the sheets.

‘Video Call Incoming…’

You can’t help the blush that coats your skin nor the lust that fills your body as soon as you accept his call; his somewhat blurry figure coming into view.

“Hey, sweetheart!” Seungcheol beams at you through the grainy camera and you already feel yourself clenching around emptiness, words caught in your throat at how handsome he was and how truly enticing his voice was. “H-hi!” Rubbing your thighs together, you peer at the camera shyly. “I--wow, the pictures really… You’re so much more handsome on v-video.” You giggle slightly, leaning in closer to your laptop to get a better view of the silvery-blue haired male.

Seungcheol’s deep laugh filters through the speakers and your toes curl against the sheets.

“You should see me in person, maybe I’ll look even better then.”

You don’t deny that one bit; your own hands already itching to touch yourself. “Oh? Is that an invitation~?”

Seungcheol’s eyes pierce the camera, licking his own lips as you watch him snake a hand down into his sweats.

“If you want it to be, sweetheart. But tell me about you, how are you feeling? Have you eaten already?”

Gulping, you watch as his hand seems to work slowly and out of view. “I--um, I feel b-better just… Dunno, guess my body’s just used to, um, y’know… A-and I haven’t really had much of an appetite...” You trail off, head still fuzzy from the cold medicines and now, Seungcheol.

In a roundabout way, it almost feels like you’re watching him do a show for you as you watch him slowly get off.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, baby. But you know you should try to eat, okay? I don’t want you to get even sicker.” You nod, fingertips already at the edge of your sleep shorts.

“I--c-can I touch myself too?” Seungcheol laughs lightly, nodding as he tilts his head back. “Of course, you don’t need to ask me for permission, baby.”

You grin at him, sitting up as you reposition the laptop. Your hand slides underneath a pillow, grabbing the small bullet vibrator you kept there. “Do you always keep a toy handy?” His voice is airy, teasing in the way he asks.

“Mmhmm~ You never know when you’ll need it~” You sing-song, shimmying your sleep shorts and panties off before you spread your legs in front of the camera.

The air gets knocked out of Seungcheol the second you spread your legs for him and him alone and he can’t help but imagine all the things he wanted to do with you. He watches as you tease yourself, fingertips only grazing across the areas he knew you wanted to be touched the most.

“I can’t wait for us to finally fuckin’ meet.” He grits out.

A moan floats through the speakers of Seungcheol’s gaming PC, your saccharine voice music to his ears. “M-me too, wanna know what you’d do to me~” You giggle afterwards, pressing the vibrator to your clit as you spread your legs wider for him to see. Seungcheol’s hand around his cock tightens as he watches, an appreciative smirk on his face.

“Oh sweetheart, what wouldn’t I do to you.” You can’t help but slide your fingers through your wet folds listening to Seungcheol’s voice, whimpering when you finally slide a finger in. “Yeah? What would be the first thing? Tell me, ‘Cheollie~”

Even through the webcam quality, you can see the way Seungcheol’s eyes glaze over in complete pleasure. He licks his lips once, leaning in close so that you can hear him clearly.

“I know you probably think I’d get straight to the filthy shit, huh? Pin you to your bed and fuck you until you forget your own name or tie you up to the bedposts and make you beg for me to fuck you. But I wouldn’t. Because I wanna worship your fuckin’ body. I’d take it nice and slow with you, give you as many orgasms as you want.”

“F-fuck, Seungcheol, I–”

“You could use me for your pleasure, y’know? You deserve it. You’re such a good girl. I’d give you anything you fuckin’ want if you’d let me.”

Your choked moans have Seungcheol working his cock faster; nothing on his mind except for you and his impending orgasm. “Oh g-god, Seungcheol, I--fuck, yes, I want that~ I want you to--to make me cum as many times as I w-want!” You mewl, easily working in another finger as you pump the digits inside your pussy.

He smirks when he sees your grip on the vibrator loosening, knowing that you were already too lost in the pleasure to keep the toy on. “And I’d let you. Maybe I’d make you cum on my tongue first. Or would you want my fingers?”

“B-both! Puh--please…” You whine, legs threatening to clamp shut. You curl and scissor your fingers, thrusting them knuckle deep inside yourself as you chase the pleasure that overtakes your senses. “Please, ‘Cheol, tell me more~”

You watch through the camera as Seungcheol pushes his sweats down enough to get his cock into view; mouth watering as you watch it curve up to his lower abdomen.

“I know how much you love being doted on and being taken care of… So after I make you cum all fuckin’ night, you know I’d take care of you. Make sure you’re comfortable and cuddle with you when you’re tired.” His hips cant up into his closed palm, a soft groan on his lips. “And then when we wake up, I’ll eat you out. Nice and slow so you know it’d be worth it.”

Seungcheol smirks, smearing the precum all over his shaft. “But I also know you like it rough and you like being punished like a bad girl. You like the idea of being tied up and teased and being fucked nice and hard too. I could take it nice and slow, build up the pleasure for you. Or I can take it nice and slow and tease you, I’d make you sit on my cock ‘n make you wait for it ‘til you’re begging me. Or maybe you would want an audience? Let them see you fall apart on my cock when you’re desperate to cum.”

You press the vibrator against your clit again, Seungcheol’s name falling out of your mouth in a blubbering mess. “Oh--I--!!”

Your legs clamp shut, fingers halting their movements as you cum hard around your fingers. Seungcheol watches as your legs shake, his own hand running up and down his cock in quick motions as he chases his high too. You vaguely hear him groaning your name; the ringing in your ears overbearing as your orgasm continues to wash over you.

The sound of your quick and shallow breaths mix with Seungcheol’s over the speakers as the two of you catch your breath. You slip your fingers from inside of you, wincing when you turn off the toy and toss it to the side.

“Fuck, baby, I--”

“Y-yeah…” You quietly lick your fingers clean, knowing that Seungcheol’s watching. “I… that was the first time I… did that with s-someone…” You giggle tiredly, wiping the rest of your sticky fingers on your shirt.

“Really? Never?” Seungcheol’s surprised expression makes you giggle; his eyes round and mouth wide open as he leans closer to his webcam.

“Mmhmm! Just, y’know, it’s--it’s hard to get close to people sometimes…”

You had mentioned it off-handedly once while the two of you had been texting, that most of the dates you’d been on hated the fact that you cammed. There was always a possessive aura that was present and while Seungcheol would sometimes get a little jealous himself, he also knew it was your livelihood and how you supported yourself.

“Ah, yeah, I can understand.”

The two of you sit in a content silence, Seungcheol reaching for a few tissues to clean off the drying cum on his abdomen.

“Hey, ‘Cheol?”

“Yeah?” He peers up at the camera through his lashes, blinking rapidly as he watches you lay back down in front of your laptop.

“About what you said… earlier…” You pause, shyness overtaking once again. “I--Would you want to meet up? Like, for real? I mean--not--not like tomorrow or something but... Y’know, we can start planning?”

Any words that come after that turn into radio static in Seungcheol’s head and he can feel his pupils shaking, nervousness already bubbling up inside of him at the prospect of actually finally maybe getting to meet you.

“Seungcheol? ‘Cheollie? You okay?”

Fuck.

“Huh? Yeah, yeah! I’m cool, I’m good, sorry, that--that caught me off guard.”

He watches as you talk animatedly, mind already going a mile a minute as he thinks over everything that needed to be done before then.

“I’m really excited to meet you, ‘Cheollie!”

#cherrybomb!cheol #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #scoups imagines #seungcheol imagines #scoups scenarios #seungcheol scenarios #scoups #seungcheol

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cno-inbminor · 4 years

Text

a/n: yeah, i don’t know what this is. definite drabble dump! also unedited, so sorry. hope all of you are healthy and safe! please wear your masks when going out and sanitize frequently!

pairing: heir!iwaizumi x reader

wc: ~1.8k

“Please, you have to hear me out—”

“I don’t have to do anything for you. Fuck, I don’t even know your real name!”

Hajime knew he was signing up for trouble the moment you gave him your name and placed his drink of choice in front of him. Seven months ago, he sought refuge at a hole-in-the-wall bar, one hidden in the shadows and away from the skyscrapers he was learning to detest. Your back had been turned towards him as he politely for a glass of whiskey, neat, but even the world of accomplished, beautiful heiresses couldn’t prepare him for the sight that was you. Hajime immediately believed that you weren’t supposed to be behind the polished wooden counter and underneath some poor lighting, that the uniform you donned was simply nothing more than a costume you were itching to get out of.

And idiotic, foolish him, stumbled and stuttered when you asked for a name to be put on the tab, and before he could stop from plunging into a world of inevitable pain, he replied, “Haru.”

So gripped by the fear of knowing that this bar was the last place he was supposed to be, so initially distrusting of your ability to keep secrets under wrap (an unspoken duty of bartenders), he lied through his teeth. And every Wednesday and Friday nights for the weeks following like clockwork, he would leave behind his custom Balenciaga suit jacket, replace it with a cheaper, itchier blazer stored in the closet of his office, take the train, and walk two and a half blocks to get to the alleyway where his asylum existed. He allowed you to subject him to any of your new concoctions, and whenever you let him stay as you closed up the bar (though mainly at his insistence because he always ended up being the last customer and wanted to make sure you could get to the station safely), it further emboldened his belief that he wanted nothing more than to be there by your side.

The guilt clawed through his chest day after day – it didn’t take half a brain to know that asking you out would be a bad idea in the long run, but he convinced himself that he would come clean with you some day. He was going to get out of this arranged marriage smoothly, deal with any damages that would ensue, and then unveil everything about his background in hopes that you would undoubtedly accept him and everything would be just fine.

But of course, karma would have it that he pays for his sins. He became too comfortable with the sneaking and the hiding, the lies about his job and role in the business world naturally spilling off his tongue. His world came crashing down when he least expected it – he had been waiting for you at your apartment in a t-shirt and sweatpants, answering work emails on his cellphone and ignoring some of Tooru’s nonsensical texts. Naturally, he perked up when he heard your key turn the bolt, already standing from the couch to greet you at the door and maybe help you with your things. Hajime was unaware of your rigid silence as you accepted his kiss on your cheek, letting him take the bags of groceries from your arms and bring them to the kitchen. It’s not until he sees the tabloid magazine haphazardly stashed next to the leeks and freezes at the two faces on the cover, two extremely, unsettling familiar faces.

In that moment, he could hear nothing but the dreadful pounding of his heart. He could feel your presence leaning against the sink and boring holes into his back, pleading, beseeching for some sort of explanation.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he trips over himself, finding the courage to turn around and face you. But what breaks him more than anything is how disappointed you look – he could take anger and tears right now, but the look of on your face that shows he has ultimately failed you crushes him.

“So what is it then?” You ask calmly, but the bitterness is scathing. “Because to me, it looks like the announcement of a marriage between two people who just so happen to be heirs to a couple of the largest companies in Japan.”

Hajime would like nothing more than the earth to open and swallow him whole, just so he has some time to gather up his excuses and do anything to keep you with him. It’s disgustingly selfish, but he can’t lose you. He just can’t.

“I don’t want it,” he says and reaches out tentatively, taking a single step until he’s right in front of you and lightly grasping your waist. You look over his shoulder defiantly, avoiding his gaze every time he tries to obstruct your vision. “I don’t want her, I just want you,” he spills.

“I always felt like something was off,” you quietly digress. “There were a couple of things that didn’t seem to line up, but I didn’t question it. I didn’t want to pry – I wanted you to open up whenever you felt comfortable. But I never imagined it to be something like this.”

“Please, you have to hear me out—”

“I don’t have to do anything for you. Fuck, I don’t even know your real name!”

It’s disturbing to know that the man you’ve been to bed with, the man that’s cooked for you on multiple occasions, the man that plagues your dreams from time to time in the last five months, goes by a different name. Takahiro Haru might have been just the average, run-of-the-mill, one of many financial analysts working over at Sony, and he was yours. But Iwaizumi Hajime, heir to one of the largest business corporations in Japan and an extremely eligible bachelor, could never be that.

“I’ll tell you everything,” he gulps, eyes frantic and searching for anything in your face and posture that says you’ll stay. “No more lies, but I’m doing my best to get out of this. For you, us. And—”

“I’m not the solution to getting out of your responsibilities, Haru. I know it’s 2020, but we’ve only been seeing each other for five months – your parents would be furious if they knew I was in the picture. Plus, she’s much more accomplished and beautiful, donates a ton of money to all the right causes and charities, why – why wouldn’t you want to marry her?”

Hajime moves to cradle your cheek, silently beckoning for you to lean into his palm. His thumb softly strokes your skin and you hate how comforting it is. You hate how easy it could be to just take his hand and jump into the deep end without a second though – that’s the control he has over you, and it’s incredibly frustrating.

“I don’t love her. Heir or not, I should be with someone I love, no?”

“But—”

“I love you,” and the way he says it like it’s the first time sends your heart to the clouds. “Nothing’s going to change that,” he tries to promise, using his free hand to lift one of yours to his lips and kissing the knuckles. And you want to believe him – you want to believe him so bad but it’s impossible. There are too many extraneous factors; going through with all this would thrust you into a world that you were completely unprepared for. Your life would be unceremoniously uprooted and haphazardly buried into a new garden.

Was it all worth it to be by this man’s side?

“I need time,” you whisper, moving away from Hajime’s hold on you. “I need time and space to think about this, but I can’t have you here to influence my decision.”

“…how long will that take?”

“As long as I need,” you firmly reply. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you struggle to say the next sentence. “In the meantime…I need my spare key back.”

Even though Hajime already feels like he’s drowning in a pool of lava, the unmistakable chill of dread that runs through his veins is excruciating. Having your spare key meant unbridled access to you, only needing to give you a quick text whenever he was going to visit. But with this permission revoked, he wouldn’t be free to see you whenever he likes. He wouldn’t be able to escape into your calming embrace at the end of a long day and would have no other option but to return to his lonely, downtown penthouse. The realization is suffocating, like smoke entering his lungs and stealing away all his oxygen. He needs you so bad – this can’t be the end.

“No,” Hajime shakes his head stubbornly, making wide strides out of the kitchen and into your living room.

“Haru—”

“I’ll give you all the space for as long as you need, but don’t make me give you back the spare key—”

“Iwaizumi!” You cry out, teeth gnawing your bottom lip afterwards. He loathes the fact that the first time you call him by his real name is in the midst of the biggest storm he’s ever encountered – it’s full of raw pain and frustration, a complete antithesis to the loving tone you usually have when referring to him by his other name. It’s a whirlwind that only one can run from, and he knows it has to be him. After all, this was his monstrous creation.

Hajime does his best to the keep the trembling of his hands to a minimum as they fish out his keychain and start unwinding the most significant piece of metal on there. The closer it gets to the other end of the ring, the more he struggles to not toss it away and fight for himself. But he places the key in your awaiting palm and watches with a breaking heart as your fingers close around it, your nails digging into your own flesh.

“You need to leave,” you struggle to order.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen this way.”

“I know.”

You don’t stop him when he moves forward to give you one of the sweetest kisses you’ve ever experienced, relishing in these last moments of intimacy. Both of you itch for more, but now is not the time. You walk him to the door, heart sinking as he slides on his polished shoes. He gives you another once over and drinks in all the details he can, branding your image in his brain for the next possible agonizing weeks.

“I love you, (y/n),” he quietly declares for the nth time.

And he desperately clings onto the little hope that he has when you reply, “I love you too…Hajime.”

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi angst #hajime #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu angst #hq angst #haikyuu scenarios #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x y/n #haikyuu x you

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buck-nialled · 3 years

Note

21 with niall please ♡ based on your question thingy

NOTE: thanks for the submission! send me a number and I’ll write a blurb on it

this one goes out to all my coffee lovers! this also features lil bby tarzan and niall acting like a diva, enjoy!

TAGLIST: @fedorable-killjoys @isisferreira27 @niallberry @swiftmendeshoran @theshyspy @niallerbbynialler @camhoran00 @letmecarryu @franchesca-791 @niallers-potato @clarabsevero @nerdypartytrashpsychic @golden-hoax @upallniall @ms-emily119 @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @hoodhoran

20. Who wants to stay in bed “just a little longer?”

21. Who makes the coffee in the morning?

Beverage of Champions - N. Horan + S. Mendes Imagine

When you first accepted Niall’s and Shawn’s invitation to move in with them, you assumed most of their “ground rules” were dramatized and just to pull a few laughs from you.

“Tarzan needs to be pet at least seventeen times a day or he will start having separation anxiety.”

Not that you were complaining about this one. In fact, you think the golden puppy’s petting quota has suffered a drastic increase since you moved in.

“There need to be two cases of beer in the fridge at all times just in case one of us has an emergency.”

That one you didn’t quite understand, but both of them somehow convinced you it was necessary. And you felt shameful for the tab you racked up from the beer aisle of the grocery store alone. This final one though, you had yet to confront.

“Absolutely no waking Niall up before nine-thirty in the morning.”

Frankly, the gravity of Shawn’s tone while sharing this information with you made you too scared to ask what would happen if this rule was never followed. Therefore, each early morning you endured, you tip-toed and wore the thickest socks your drawer had to offer for fear of “waking the beast”.

And for a solid year, this routine never failed you. Maybe it was the morning prior that unleashed karma on you, as you remember how smug your smile was that you couldn’t scare away a fly with how silently you crept through the house. Whatever it was that chose to haunt you, it came with a vengeance.

It began as soon as you opened the cabinet for one of your mugs, and were taunted by the sight of your only clean dish on the top shelf. An aggravated sigh fell past your lips, and a second sigh of disappointment followed after realizing that this morning was already pushing all of your buttons.

“No biggie, Y/N. You got this.” After placing your balance onto your toes and stretching your muscles—surprisingly farther than you thought you could—you hissed a celebratory “yes” through your teeth at the feeling of the porcelain against your fingertips.

The gratification was short-lived, however, as the mug slipped from your grip and plummeted to the kitchen floor with a discordant crash. Clenching your jaw and screwing your eyes shut into a cringe, you began cursing under your breath, knowing it was only a matter of time before…

RUFF! RUFF RUFF!

The muffled barks could be heard nearly perfect from your spot by the kitchen counter. You didn’t even want to know how loud they were to Niall’s ears. If there was even the slightest chance that he continued snoozing through your sleepy blunder, all hopes for him to continue dreaming were lost now.

You could hear Shawn mumbling for Tarzan to calm down and slowly, saw the bedroom door creak open. Shawn allowed the pawed companion to venture outside of the room to investigate while you swiftly grabbed the broom from the nearby closet.

“Well, that’s one way to replace my alarm,” Shawn murmurs, tiredly as he inspects the kitchen floor. He guards the doorway to keep Tarzan from wandering too close for fear of any shards somehow becoming misplaced beneath the dog's feet.

“Sorry,” you hung your head shamefully, as you finished sweeping the leftover shrapnel into the dustpan. Shawn followed you to the garbage with his arms crossed, a sleepy smirk on his face.

“Eh, don’t be. It was bound to happen at some point.”

“What? Me knocking something over? Hate to break it to you, but that’s an everyday occurrence.” Upon chuckling at your remark, another sound of a door opening perks your ears up.

“Not what I meant.” He replies in a hushed tone, before scooting past you to grab some mugs for the two of you. Since you were the two early risers of the household, it became a tradition to have a conversation over a cup of coffee. And, after an accidental cup-swap, it also became a tradition for you to make the coffee from now on. It was not like you did anything special, other than make your usual drink order with few variations, but Shawn couldn’t get enough of it after first trying it.

“One thing. I ask you both to do one thing in the morning and what is it?” The longer you and Shawn agreed to share a roof with Niall, the more you two began noticing how much he acts like a father more often than a roommate. Thus, most of his outbursts like this result in responses from the two of you like these:

“Feed the dog?”

“Don’t change the thermostat?”

“No! Don’t wake me up. You two know this.” Niall whines.

“Man, relax it was an honest mistake. Y/N can’t help that she’s short.” You turn to Shawn, eyes narrowing in a glare.

“Not the kind of justification I was looking for.” You turn back to Niall. “I promise it won’t happen again. But since you’re up…” you take the pot of coffee, still steaming as you pour it into the mug, and hold it out to him, “coffee?”

Niall scoffs. “You just think coffee is going to make up for my lack of beauty sleep?”

“How do you think we get through the day?” You fire back, motioning to you and Shawn. The brunette gums beside you, taking a long sip from his cup with a content sigh.

“It’s pretty good, too,” Shawn adds.

“I know what coffee tastes like.” Niall rolls his eyes.

“But have you had her coffee?” Shawn quirks an eyebrow. This motivates you to shake the cup in your hand, beckoning Niall to steal it from you.

“It’s not getting any warmer,” you sing with a hint of a smile. Niall finally reaches for the mug and takes a drink. You and Shawn can only stand in silence for a few moments, observing every twitch or move the muscles in his face make. When he brings the mug down for you to admire his expression, a small applause sounded in your mind by the sight of his eyes expanding in wonder.

“Holy mother of…” he pauses to take another sip. “What kind of godly nectar is this?” He cries, nearly downing the whole cup in seconds.

“It’s just coffee, Ni.” You giggle.

“Coffee? This is no regular coffee, Y/N. This is...this is...I don’t even have words to describe it. Do you have any more?” You choke back your laughter once you reach for the pot to offer Niall a refill. After draining more coffee into the mug, he gulps down the brewed liquid just as fast as his first cup. You and your other roommate could only stand back as witnesses, slightly impressed that his throat was not coated in burns.

“I‘ve never seen him this in love since we bought him that bottle of Guinness,” Shawn whispers.

“I’m never waking up late again.” Niall announces, prior to letting out a loud “whoop” that made your and Shawn’s ears curl up.

“And I think the caffeine just kicked in.”

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hentaimommi · 3 years

Text

ᴄʟᴜʙ ᴛᴇᴀꜱᴇ. | ᴋᴇɪɢᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴀᴍɪ (prohero!fem! reader)

Warnings: smut

[A/N]: I had a dream about this last night oml. think like- 2013 night club vibes. I'm also giving you a quirk.

Quirk: Bunny

[C L U B T E A S E]

The night life of a pro-hero was a beautiful one. The exclusive club used to house the many parties held was in downtown Japan. The tallest building, on the highest floor. You personally opted to go on your day off. Normally you could catch many heroes in their hero outfits, but you liked to get dressed and actually look presentable.

At about 18:00, you began your lengthy process of getting ready. Beginning with curling your hair, then moving to cosmetics which were a pretty big deal. A nice eye look to match your dress, which was skin tight and silver. It sounds cheap; but the dress was the most expensive clothing item you owned. Pairing it with simple earrings and a pair of black-strap heels, you were set for the party that was starting at around 21:00.

Throwing on a large, white and puffy jacket, you checked yourself in the mirror. "No, black would look better." You then changed, now smoothing your dress and exciting the front door to your penthouse. The elevator ride was a long one, nervous as usual. Many male pro-hero's would be there, naturally making the energy a little tense. Stepping from the elevator, you walked out to the limo that had been pre-ordered for tonight.

Many of the paparazzi were already outside, taking shot after shot of you getting into the car. The air felt thick and you entered it. "Hello, Miss (H/N). How are you on this fine evening?" Your shofar asked, adjusting the mirror and beginning to go forward. "Oh, just fine." You responded; eyes locked outside the window. Your gut was wrenching, no matter how many parties you went to, the same feeling creeped over your shoulder each time.

Upon arrival of the very large building, the limo was parked outside of many velvet ropes. An array of guards were standing outside, blocking any exit there could have been. You thanked the driver, stepping out and into the cool night air. As you did so, the guards looked over to you, watching you walk through each velvet rope to their location. The guard at the main entrance smiled, letting you past and into the buildings lobby. Eyes were locked onto you, as they were everytime. People asking for autographs and greeting you; but all you wanted was to get to the top floor.

Once more you stepped into an elevator, pressing the very last button and prepping yourself for the long ride. Just as the doors closed, though, a large hand stuck through the middle of the two large metal blocks. You questioned it, until a certain pro-hero who had been climbing the charts walked in. "(H/N)! Glad I caught ya! I need up to the top floor." He entered the room, towering over you a little bit. "Lucky for you, Hawks, I'm going there too." You responded, eyes nervously finding your hands- which were fumbling.

The ride was silent for the most part, but like Hawks, he couldn't be completely quiet. "You look nice," He scratched the back of his neck, tilting his head a bit. Your blush was evident, also by the fact your leg began hopping. Unlike Mirko, your quirk wasn't strength based; it was reflex based, meaning you were toned down to the muscle. Hawks noticed this, a light smirk playing on his lips. Finally, the doors opened. "See you later, little birdy." He spoke, walking out into the greeting of the party. You followed.

"(H/N)!" A voice grumbled far above you. Turning around, you were welcomed into the warm presence of Fatgum and his interns: Suneater and Red Riot. Red Riot smiled, shaking your hand. Suneater only nervously turned around. You tilted your head in sympathy, then looked back up. "Hey Fatgum. What's up?" You asked, him following you to the bar as you moved smoothly through the crowd.

"Well I was wondering- I have this friend, and he needs someone to dance with. Would you be willing to help him out?" He proposed, paying for your drink over the bar. You thought for a moment, kicking back a shot and removing your coat. Many men had their gaze trapped on you. The quirk you had gave you large legs; also affecting your glutes. "Yeah, sure." Fatgum smiled watching you turn around, signaling someone over. "Yeah, can I get a martini? Make it dry, please." The bar tender nodded, then money for the exact price of the drink shot over the counter. Turning back, Hawks was standing with Fatgum. Your eyes widened a little, realizing he had meant, by his friend- the winged pro-hero.

"Don't worry. I'll pick up the tab. Wanna dance chickadee?" He asked, that same smirk as earlier meeting your gaze. You nodded, him taking your hand and softly leading you over to the dance floor. (Song: Smack That - Akon) Hawks wore his wings out nearly protectively over you as you both met the floor. You took a liking to the song decently quickly; finding yourself dancing wildly to it. You had the attention of most men in the club as your ass shook to the beat. Unknowing of this, Hawks pulled his wings over your ass and covered it from other men's gaze.

You, however, had your eyes closed. The feeling was lucid almost, barely buzzed at all. You enjoyed the flashing lights of the dance floor partnered with the bass of the song playing loudly though the speakers. The song switched (The Way I Are - Timbaland), Hawks now wrapping his hands around your waist loosely. You're almost sure this isn't what Fatgum meant by 'dancing', but his hands were so warm, touch so inviting as you both danced lewdly on each other.

The stares weren't as heavy as before, Hawks making slit eyes at each male who would attempt to catch your gaze. "Hawks?" You asked, turning around, hips still rocking to the beat. He looked down to you, delighted to see your face. Fatgum hadn't asked you by chance for him to dance with you, he had set it up well aware you all were friends. "Yeah?" He asked, smiling (Candy Shop - 50 Cent). You smiled at the change of the song, seductive eyes batting up to the avain male.

"Would you wanna take this somewhere else?" You asked, pushing your chest comfortably up to his. He was taken aback by your question, thinking you would at least want an emotional connection before doing anything beyond hot and heavy dancing. "You bet that fat ass, bunny." He spoke into your ear, wings still protectively over you. Goosebumps fled your skin. "You can call me Keigo, by the way." He smiled. "Call me (F/N)." Silencing, you dragged his hand back and away from the dance floor.

No one questioned you all as the music faded behind you, becoming muffled in the distance. You stopped at what you knew were the happening VIP spots. "Do you own a room?" You asked, pushing yourself against the wall. Nervously Keigo nodded, pulling keys from his pocket. It was his turn to lead you this time, taking you to the farthest back room there was. These were known as 'sober rooms', made by commission for heroes to sober up in. They had a couch, fireplace, and a small bar set up for luxury- at least in Keigo's.

As you walked in, his hand on the small of your back, he could feel the heat your body had been radiating. "I've never brought anyone back here before. Do you want a drink?" He asked, already pouring himself a whiskey. You sat down on the very large, nearly conversation pit sized couch. "Yeah, do you have any coconut rum?" He lifted a brow, "Yeah, weirdo." He chuckled a bit, pouring the drink and walking over to you. His outfit was nice. Tight red shirt, black suit, extremely nice dress shoes with matching black socks.

As he sat down, you pushed off your heels and turned to him, looking innocently with large eyes. Although, he knew you were far from innocent. The music which was once flooding your ears, was now a meek hum in the background. Keigo leaned down, wrapping his arm around your shoulders- then pressing you into a kiss. He tasted like whiskey and mint, cologne flooding your nose and countering the taste of his lips.

His kisses were sloppy, untamed as they moved from your lips down to your neck and chest. You weren't drunk, but you could get that way off of his touch. His hands softly trailed over your entire figure, leading to your ass. He held a hefty grip onto it, pulling you seamlessly into his lap. Like you weighed nothing.

"Keigo, oh my fucking god.." You moaned, hands looping into his golden locks. You could feel his hard cock pressed up against your think panties. Your thighs straddled him thickly, engulfing his own. He liked it, hands not being able to leave your ass and thighs for even a moment. "Birdy, do you know how fat that ass is? What I'd do to make it all mine." He gawked, pressing his cock up to you.

"Do it." You almost whispered back, pushing yourself up and lying on your back. Keigo came between your legs, trailing sloppy and wet kisses up your inner thigh. You could nearly feel his hot breath on your cunt, so sensitive and ready to be touched by him. “Keigo, please don’t tease me.” You softly begged, watching as his slit eyes come to meet your own wide orbs. “’nt worry, Keigo’s gotcha..” He cooed, sweetly as possible. He then sat back up, adjusting his wingspan. You watched as the beautiful shade of red feathered outward, almost in a mating dance. He chuckled at you in awe, taking that moment to remove his pants. Soon your eyes would trail back down, seeing as he had removed his underwear too. “Your turn, baby.”

He took his time while taking off your panties, etching them seductively over your freshly shaven legs. Your hips pushed forward, almost begging for contact, drawing a low hum from the bird man. All he wanted was to take you in that moment. His wings fluttered happily seeing your wet cunt, knowing all it took was him teasing you to get there. “You have such a pretty pussy.” He leaned down, pulling you hips up and closer to him. Watching each move he made was interesting. He did nothing uncalculated, everything had a reason.

You shivered at the contact of his spit-soaked hand with your already wet cunt. He rubbed his fingers skillfully around, building you up. Your moans were lewd, long, and loud through the room. He didn’t seem to mind as he tore away the contact, Replacing his fingers with his cock tip. “Ready?” You nodded, still pushing your hips up. Keigo chuckled at your desperate attempts, holding you hips and pressing his cock into you. You whined, the girth stretching you out so well. Your legs automatic response was to lock around his waist. “K-Keigo-” He shushed you, palating his fingers into your tongue.

Watching as he started to thrust in and out, his face contorting in pleasure; his cock twitching inside of you. His moans were like a sweet song, spilling at each thrust. You felt his cold rings meet your leg, pulling your leg above his shoulder to hit deeper, kissing your sweet spot with each thrust. He knew what he was doing, too, making sure you could hear every single moan that spilled from his lips, which were pink and swollen. “Yeah, you like my big fat cock? Say you like it, tell me how much you like this pro-hero cock.”

“Oh Kei, it feels so good- please, don’t quit.” You begged, fingernails scraping up his previously unmarked skin. He made sure to mark you back, too. Leaving purple marks up your chest, stopping just at your neck. You could feel it, the coil that had been in the works from the moment he pushed himself inside you. Your legs began to shake, Keigo feeling himself starting to twitch inside of you. There were no words, only incoherent moans that overflowed from the both of you. Your orgasms hit at the same time, your hands gripping into his shoulder blades desperately. His hands dug into the sofa, nearly breaking the material.

“Kei, holy fuck, you’re so good!” You praised, throwing your head back in euphoria. When you both finished, the only thing to be heard was the panting breaths of the two of you. He collapsed finally overtop of you, nuzziling into your neck. You began to pet his hair, letting both of you breath out the intense feeling that had just gripped onto your body. “Fuck, baby, if I would have known you’d be that good, I would have asked you to dance myself.”

#takami keigo smut #hawks x you #hawks smut #hawks x reader #pro hero au #onenightstand #takami keigo x reader

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

Can you do 60 for indruck, NSFW? Thank you so much! Love your work!

Here it is! I set it in the same world as this sternclay fill. Credit to @bellafarallones for playing in this space on discord. Apollo is from my Super hero AU

“All I’m sayin is it seems mighty unfair to me that one fella gets a handler-assistant type deal and the rest of us don’t.” Duck crosses his arms as Ned fiddles with the pen on his desk.

“You’re not wrong, dear boy, but Apollo was in high demand from the higher ups-”

“Because he’s a shallow dipshit with a mean streak who’ll be good for ratings?”

“Precisely. He demanded in his contract that we allow his twin to continue his work as his photographer and assistant. He has over a million followers on Instagram, so those photos will be a boost to the show. Just try to get along for the camera’s?”

“His brother ain’t even on camera.” Duck mutters.

“I meant with Apollo.”

Duck shrugs, defeated, “sure thing, Ned.”

As he walks back to the main house, he mulls over the fact that the twin (Indrid, he thinks that’s the guys name) bugs him more than Apollo does. Apollo is vain, mean, and selfish, but at least that gets him things, even makes sense for the kind of show they’re on. Indrid gains nothing by helping him out here. Except protection from the bully, which Duck finds to be the worst kind of cowardice. Hopefully Vincent, this season’s bachelor, will see through the “influencer” and send him packing ASAP.

-------------------------------------

Four weeks in, and this is exactly what Duck was worried about. Not only is Indrid hovering around his brother like a nervous moth (excet when cameras are near, at which point he ducks out of frame), he’s doing fucking nothing to reign him in.

A few frontrunners are starting to emerge, and with that claws are coming out. Barclay, a chef and all around nice guy, is the target of choice. Nico and Josh both took bites out of him this morning. But Apollo sunk his teeth in like a dog on a fox, calling him, among other things, a pathetic, six-foot puppy dog who no man would ever want. The cook left noticeably teary eyed. Duck was about to block the cameras from following when Joseph beat him to it. Which is weird, because he thought Joe couldn’t stand Barclay. Apollo flounces off, but Duck corners Indrid where he’s been stoically watching his brother be a raging asshole.

“What the fuck man?”

‘Wrong twin.” Indrid says flatly, indicating his silver hair, tied back in a half-bun. His dark roots are showing and his eyebrows are black, unlike Apollo’s immaculate blonde dye job and bleached brows.

“Nope, right one. You’re his handler, cant’ you fuckin intervene when he’s doin’ shit like that? Or are you just here to let him hurt whoever he feels like?”

Indrid fixes him with a bitter smile, “If there were a way to make my brother be kind or, indeed, see others as people, don’t you think I’d have found it and used it everyday since?”

“I-”

“You people have no idea how much I’m already doing. I kept him from going after you yesterday by reminding him he looks ugly when he yells on camera. And if nothing else console yourself with the fact you all have only to deal with him for a few months. Some of us have endured twenty-eight years of it.”

With that, he turns and stalks from the room. As he leaves, Duck can’t shake the thought that his black denim jacket and worn jeans fit him better than Apollo’s designer ones ever could.

-----------------------------------

Indrid understands why there’s so much alcohol on set, but he can’t partake (too bitter) and it makes Apollo even harder to handle than usual. Which is why Indrid is out on the grounds at ten p.m, intending to hide from his brother until dawn.

At six weeks in, fan favorites are getting more established and Indrid, needing to predict Apollo’s mood in order to do his job, is keeping a close eye on them. His twin is well-liked for being snarky and hot, though he suspects the large number of contestants means there have been limited chances for his unpleasant side to be showcased. Joseph is another, because of course he is, movie-star handsome with an interesting past. Barclay is beloved for the very things that the other contestants torment him for. And Duck? Duck is quickly becoming the one people think Vincent will choose.

Indrid thinks they’re right. He’s charming in an understated way, funny, and while Apollo needles him for his “dad bod,” Indrid and Vincent have both noticed the muscles in his arms. Who gives a damn about flat abs? Indrid would much rather have something soft to rest his head on while those green eyes look lovingly down at him. His crush on Duck is useless, persistent, and must be hidden from Apollo at all costs.

His foot catches something solid and he tumbles over the obstacle to land ass-first on the lawn.

“Ow.” He glares at the object. The object turns out to be Duck Newton, who's obviously drunk as he sits up.

“Sorry man, thought no one’d come out here. Oh it’s you, it's, uh, fuck, fuck c'mon” he snaps his fingers as he searches his thoughts, “It's cute Apollo!”

“Indrid.” Surely Duck didn’t mean to use that adjective. Right?

“No, I’m Duck?”

He snickers, “No, I meant I’m Indrid.”

“Ohhh, right. You're Indrid. I'm Duck. That's the big dipper” He points at the sky. Indrid follows the line and grins, delighted.”

“It is!”

“Uhhuh. C'mere, can show you more.” Duck pats the spot beside him and lays back. Indrid scoots closer and reclines as well, making appreciative sounds each time Duck shows him a constellation.

As they’re studying the sky, the other man whispers, “Can I tell you a secret? I, I think Joe’n Barclay are into each other now."

“The way they look at each other is not exactly subtle.”

‘“Heh, yeah.” he links his hands across his belly, “I think they're in love. You ever been in love?”

“No.” He sighs, not wanting to dwell on that pile of baggage, “You?”

“Nope. And, uh, don’t, don’t tell anyone but I don't think I am with Vincent. Maybe I could be? Does that make me a bad person? He's nice, think he likes me a lot but, I, I dunno.”

“Not being in love with someone doesn’t make you a bad person. No more than loving someone does.”

Indrid is hard to surprise; years of getting out ahead of his brother and father taught him how to see things coming. But nothing could prepare him for Duck rolling to hide his face against Indrid’s chest. Not knowing what else to do, he pats his back, notices a woodsy scent tingling his nose.

“You smell good.” He winces; that was too creepy, now Duck will pull the comforting bulk of his body away.

“Thanks. I bought a bunch of cologne when I realized I was actually going to be a contestant. News clothes too. Thought it would give me an edge but...I dunno, can't compete with a guy like your brother.”

“Join the club.” Indrid reaches up to toy with a lock of Duck’s black hair, expecting Duck to bat him away. Instead, he sighs and turns his head to give Indrid better access.

“You could compete with ‘im. You're cuter. Nicer too.”

“Oh. Ah. Thank you.”

Duck’s fidgets with the mothman pin on Indrid’s jacket, “You wanna cuddle?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“No one cuddles with me. And we ain’t allowed to cuddle Vincent yet.” He looks up, lips pouting just enough to be charming.

Indrid let’s a purr enter his voice, “That’s a shame. I’m happy to cuddle.”

Duck rolls more of his body onto Indrid, resolutely nestling his head under his chin and tangling their legs together. His hands stay on Indrid’s chest and shoulders, though he’s now drunkenly petting Indrid’s collarbone, making him shiver. He expends four months worth of daring in a second, wrapping his arms around the curves of Duck’s torso. When Duck’s fingers brush skin instead of shirt, Indrid whimpers, then bites his lip and prays it went unnoticed.

“You don’t get cuddled much either, do you?” Duck murmurs thoughtfully.

“No.”

“Damn shame, you’re real good at it. Can cuddle me any time.”

Indrid “mmhmms” knowing the promise is like the stars; bright and comforting in the darkness, but ultimately beyond his reach.

Three day later, he drops his guard; Apollo’s been on his good behavior since Vincent’s been spending more time with him. You’d think Indrid would learn by now that all his venom has to go somewhere.

He’s huddled down in the rec room trying not to cry; it’s pathetic enough that he let such childish insults get to him, but to cry over them would confirm everything his brother said.

“Indrid? You, uh, you okay?” Duck’s reflection in the darkened T.V approaches his own.

“I'm fine.” It’s the same inflection he’s used hundreds of times, but Duck sits down on the couch all the same.

“Do you, uh, need a hug?’

“No.” He replies a hair too quickly.

“Do you want one?”

“......Badly.”

Duck opens his arms and Indrid shifts on the cushions, doing his best to curl his long limbs so they’ll fit in his embrace. The shorter man notices, concern flashing on his face.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Okay. You, uh, wanna hear the most exciting news of the day?” He waits for Indrid to nod, “there was a cougar sightin’ in the foothills near here!”

“That is both very exciting and alarming.”

“Doubt it’d go after folks, they try to steer clear of people. We don’t have ‘em back home, but you learn what to do when you’re also learnin how to deal with bears.”

“How does one deal with a bear? Other than buying them a drink.”

Duck snorts, relaxes further into the couch, “Depends on how soon you see ‘em…”

They emerge two hours later, and Indrid is so engrossed in their conversation about hiking incidents that he runs smack into a camera man. While he’s apologizing profusely, Duck guffaws, steadies him, and leads him off in search of somewhere to watch the sunset.

-----------------------------------------

“Oooh, ooh, look, sea lions!” Indrid points to the distant wharf.

“Good eye. Man, those fuckers are big. Glad none of ‘em were in the water when we did that fuckin cliff dive.”

“I for one would pay good money to see my brother chased by a sea lion.”

Duck chuckles, pops the tab on his WhiteClaw. They’re having dinner on the beach, a gourmet spread meant to encourage them to show off their pallets. Indrid took Barclay’s recommendation and ordered the whole, grilled snapper, which he assumed he’d be eating alone; Vincent’s attention has been on Duck ever since he went swimming this morning. Duck seems to be enjoying it, but come dinner time he demurred (“gotta let some of the other fellas have a chance”) and brought his basket of fried oysters over to join Indrid on the sand.

“Speakin of your brother, kinda surprised he didn't make any digs at this whole, uh, situation.” Duck gestures to the torso Indrid is currently aching to lick droplets of saltwater from. To subdue the craving, he licks salt from his fingers before replying.

“I, ah, the last time he tried to, I reminded him of all the pictures I have of him eating. He hates to be seen eating. Most of the time.” He tilts his head towards his twin, who’s chowing down next to Vincent without a care for the cameras. Indrid sets his hand on the warm sand, “I’ve been trying to, well, reign him in as you suggested. Or at least make him think twice about his choices.”

(Indrid omits the part where he’s most likely to risk it if Duck is the one with the target on his back).

Duck sets his hand down beside Indrid’s, brushes sand from the side of it with a calloused thumb, “Mighty good of you. But, uh, think I mighta read things wrong that day. You gotta handle him how you think best. Just, uh, just promise me you won’t sacrifice your own well-bein’ for my sake, or anyone else’s. We’re all grown-ass men; we can handle it.”

“I promise.” He lies.

The other man leans back on his hands, green eyes drifting across the waves. Indrid would gladly sit in silence the rest of the night, it’s so easy to be comfortable in the lull when it’s Duck filling the space beside him.

Eventually, the ranger murmurs, “It’s so fuckin breathtaking. The ocean, I mean. Maybe if you live on a coast you get used to it but man, it is somethin;.”

“More so than the forest?”

Duck smiles, “It’s like apples and oranges. Monongahela got its own charms; you’d have a blast takin pictures and drawin there, believe me. If, uh, if Apollo and I both make it to the final four, uh, maybe we could take a few hours durin’ my hometown visit and I could show you my favorite spot.

Indrid imagines the two of them beneath the trees, walking hand in hand.

“I’d like that.”

---------------------------------------------

“You know you’re just a distraction, right?”

Indrid doesn’t look at his brother, just flips the page in his book, “I doubt that. You’ve said, often, that I’m too off-putting to be interesting.”

“Not when there’s competition for someone superior; Duck knows he might not win. You’re his back-up if he doesn’t, and a way to kill time until the end. Once Vincent sends him home, which he most definitely will, he’ll keep you around until something better comes along.”

“Don’t act like you know him.” Indrid hisses, looking up just in time to see something scurrying behind the triumph on Apollo’s face: fear.

So, his brother has a new weakness. He’ll tuck that away for later; this is shaping up to be an unpleasant conversation, but not one requiring quite that degree of weapon.

“You should thank me. If I weren’t so captivating, Vincent would spend all his time with Duck. Then you’d be without any attention at all. Even Duck’s taste isn’t that abysmal.” He grins his several thousand dollar smile, “he and Vincent are probably laughing about it right now.”

Indrid stands, crosses the tiny room, “Shut up, Apollo.”

Then he slams the door. There’s a yelp, followed by “you hit my nose, you pathetic excuse for a man, ow, open this door this instant I’m not done with you!”

He flicks the lock and sits back on the bed. There’s a tin of sensory putty on his nightstand and he opens it, playing with it between his fingers. Duck brought it for him after a museum date with Vincent. The image of him not only thinking of Indrid when he saw something, but then buying it for him just to see him smile makes him want to grin and hide his face in a pillow like a teenager who just got asked to prom.

But maybe this date is going differently.

Indrid squeezes the putty, repeats the mantra he’s had since he was a child, “Apollo always lies. Apollo always lies.”

Eventually, he’s calm enough to work on some tattoo commissions, is coloring away when there’s a knock on the door. A secret knock Duck invented as a goof. Throwing open the door reveals the shorter man wearing a suit jacket and an exhausted expression. Indrid gestures to the bed, shuts and locks the door as Duck slumps on the mattress and sets his head in his hands.

“Whelp, that was a shit-show.”

“What happened?” Indrid sits cross-legged beside him.

“Vincent went in for a kiss and I, uh, I turned him down. I mean, he took it well because he’s a sweet guy but I, I feel like shit.”

“There’s no shame in not wanting to kiss just yet.”

“That ain’t the problem. I, I wanna kiss someone on this set, but it ain’t him. Indrid” he looks up, green eyes watery, “Indrid, I think I’m fallin in love with you.”

“Oh. I, are you sure-”

“The whole night, and I mean the whole fuckin night, I was thinkin about you. Thought how nice the trip to the botanical gardens would be with you there to point out color combos and get excited about butterflies. Wanted to hold your hand over dinner. Fuck, when they brought out the dessert menu all I could think was how fun it’d be to order one of each thing to surprise you so you’d do that thing you do with your hands when you’re real excited.” Duck turns, sets his hands on Indrid’s shoulders, “‘Drid, if you don’t want this, I’ll back off but-”

Indrid cuts him off with a kiss, let’s strong arms pull him down to the bed and presses as close to Duck as he can, as if any space between them might be a way for the universe to push them apart.

“Than fuck” Duck pants, cupping his face, “wait, fuck, what do we do now? I can’t string poor Vincent on.”

“We’ll get them to let you out of your contract. It can’t be that hard, right?”

--------------------------------------------

“Absolutely not” Ned shakes his head, “dropping out of the show is out of the question.”

“But that ain’t fair to any of us. Can we at least tell Vincent the truth?”

“No, it needs to look as if he naturally decided not to choose you. If not, we could be accused of manipulating results; the last time that happened, the ratings tanked for that season and the next. And my predecessor was fired.”

Duck looks at Indrid, “Guess I’ll just...pull back? That way Vincent won’t have a reason to choose me and’ll let me go soon.”

----------------------------------------------

“Droppin out is outta the question, huh?” Duck mutters to Indrid as they watch Barclay and Joseph walk off holding hands, the host eagerly asking them questions as they go.

“I suppose he didn’t drop so much as sprint.” Indrid glances at the rose in Duck’s hand, “congratulations on making the final...well, final three now.”

“Thanks? Guess Apollo’s pretty happy about it too.”

“Yes, but his ego needs no stroking.” Indrid smiles, “maybe this means you’ll get to show me the woods?”

“I hope so. Huh. What are they gonna do with the rest of us when it’s not our turn for the hometown visit?”

The answer turns out to be: drag everyone to each hometown. Because they no longer have Joe’s trip to do, Ned decided they needed more scenes of the contestants exploring where their competitors came from.

Kepler is first, and tonight is the night Duck’s been dreading. His romantic, home-town date that everyone expects to end with at least some kissing. He manages to make it through dinner, even enjoys showing Vincent the down-town he spent years roaming. But as they start down the river walk for a romantic stroll, his heart is trying to smash its way out of his ribs.

“It’s alright, you know.” Vincent stops, guiding Duck to face him, “the fact you want to be with Indrid.”

“I, uh, fuck, I, I don’t not know, uh, fuck-” he closes his eyes, “how’d you know?”

“I’m more observant than I get credit for.” Vincent brushes his cheek, “I’ve had a hunch for weeks now, but I kept you around because I liked having you here, even if I suspected it wasn’t going to end with us together. I’m very fond of you, Duck. You deserve someone who makes you happy. I promise I’ll send you home this next rose ceremony”

“Christ” Duck chuckles, “you’re a hell of a guy too, Vince. I hope whoever you pick treats you right. I, uh, can I, should we…?”

Vincent plants a chaste kiss on his cheek, then smiles, “go get him.”

----------------------------------------

“Any twos?”

“No. Go fish.”

Apollo grumbles as he takes another card. Given Duck and Vincent are on their date, neither he nor Indrid is having a good night. Before Indrid can make his ask, his twin says, “How do you get people to like you?”

“Why do you care? You’ve made it this far, so obviously Vincent likes you a great deal”

“I don’t just mean him. I, I mean, I want him to like me. To want me. But I suspect he’d like me better if other people did.”

Indrid idly taps his cards, “I suggest you stop acting like our father.”

“I’m nothing like him!” Apollo squawks.

“Oh, but you are. Everything he taught us you still hold as true; you’re just the newest version of men like him. Self-absorbed. Cruel. Shallow. I’m amazed you’ve gotten this far with Vincent, given that the age difference means you’d be caring for him in his old age.”

“I, I can care for him. I will!”

“Apollo, I wouldn’t trust you to care for a potted plant.” He sets his cards down.

“At least I’m not a-”

“Ambitionless deviant who has to ride his brother’s coattails to survive?”

“Wha--how-”

“Like I said; you’re just like him. Down to your insults.” Indrid stands, “I’m going to bed. I suggest you do the same.”

His brother remains speechless--a rare state for him--as he closes the door and heads for his room. He doubts Duck will do anything on the date (hell, the two of them have only been able to steal some kisses now and then), but the whole charade has him feeling low.

There are far more cameras in the rented house than there were a few hours ago. Which means the rest of the crew is back. Does that also mean…

“Hey, sugar. I was just lookin for you.”

--------------------------------------------------

Duck’s glad his door is open, because otherwise Indrid would have smashed it to pieces dragging them both through it. He’d only gotten out the barest explanation before the taller man was kissing his face and tugging at his clothes, purring “mine” over and over again.

“Yep, all yours.” He shuts the door as Indrid mouths at his neck, “which also means you’re all mine.” He yanks Indrid’s black sweater up and over his head, sends the matching t-shirt after it a moment later. Indrid whines, fumbling with Duck’s dress shirt, and he gets an idea.

“Uh uh, only good boys who show me why they deserve it get to feel me up.”

Indrid groans into his shoulder, fisting the fabric of his jacket “What constitutes good behavior in this instance?”

“One sec, don’t go nowhere.” He starts to step past him, pauses to grips his chin and pull him into another kiss, “and no peekin.”

As he digs through his bag for the strap on he brought just in case, he keeps an eye on Indrid to be sure he’s following the directions. The taller man’s fingers twitch, but his head stays still. God, Duck is going to memorize the shape of each of the tattoos decorating his skin with his mouth.

“You did real good.” He slips around Indrid once more, resting his back on the wall. Indrid notices the new bulge in his pants and thuds to his knees.

“May I?”

“You better.”

Indrid undoes the button of his fly. Then he looks at Duck over the rim of his glasses as he takes the zipper between his teeth and pulls it down. When the black silicone of the strap breaks free, Indrid cocks his head as if unsure of his options. Duck doesn’t really have a plan--he just wants to be with him, to make him feel good and show him just what weeks of pent-up desire have done to him--but he’s starting to regret that choice.

Indrid flicks hair from his face and wraps his lips around the head of the cock experimentally. He hums, sucking on it a moment, then pulls back blushing, “This is going to sound strange but, ah, I, I really like that. It’s such a lovely texture on my tongue, it’s, it’s almost soothing to suck.”

“Guess you better keep suckin it then, huh?” Duck runs the fingers of his right hand through Indrid’s hair.

“Is that really alright? It can’t feel like much on your end.”

“Don’t mean it ain’t fun to watch. But, uh” he touches the edge of Indrid’s red glasses, “it okay if I take these off?”

Indrid nods and Duck slides them free, tucks them into his breast pocket for safekeeping as Indrid draws the cock into his mouth again. He focuses on the head at first, humming and moaning as it bumps his cheek. Then Duck sees him swallow and relax the muscles of his jaw as he presses closer. Little puffs of breath tickle Duck’s skin as Indrid gets most of the cock in his mouth, cheeks hollowing and head bobbing as he sucks. Hungry noises burlbe up his throat, and the more he lets himself go the messier he becomes, spit coating his lips and eyes fluttering closed in bliss.

“Okay, I lied.”

Brown eyes shoot him a disbelieving look.

“This ain’t fun. This is one of the hottest fuckin things I’ve ever seen.”

Indrid wiggles happily on his knees, left hand dropping to rubs his own cock through his jeans.

“Needy little thing, gotta have somethin down your throat and around your dick at the same time.”

“MMMhhmmm” Indrid purrs, the picture of filthy perfection.

“If, if you swallow the whole thing, I’ll let you finger-fuck me.”

Both hands fly to his thighs with an excited moan. Indrid’s brow crinkles with determination as he slowly, carefully brings his lips to the base of the toy. Duck groans out “good boy” and shoves his pants down, Indrid helping to drag them to his ankles. Indrid keeps his left hand on Duck’s hip while the right hovers below his folds. Duck takes it, the toy making the angle a bit awkward, and guides it against him.

“Start with one.”

Indrid nods, moans reverently as he obeys. Duck curses, looks down to find Indrid watching him attentively. Duck is going to wreck him. Then he’s going to cuddle him to sleep and wonder at the fact he got this lucky.

“You’re doin’ great, sugar. Promise I’ll tell you if you need to adjustOH, ohyeah” he lets his head rest against the chipped white of the door, “that’s the spot. Fuck it, add one more, Ahfuck, yeah, those artists fingers are fuckin perfect for this.”

Another purr and then a sharp, choked noise. Duck looks down, realizing he rolled his hips without meaning to. Before he can apologize, Indrid grips his thigh and shakes his head.

“You like that?”

“Mmhhmmm” Indrid traces a heart on his belly.

“You’ll pull off you need to?”

“Mhmmmm.” Indrid curls his fingers as his stretched lips manage to grin.

“Fuck!” Duck giggles, “okay, if my darlin wants his face fucked, that’s what he’ll get.” He keeps a hand on Indrid’s shoulder as he lets loose, grunts and curses mingling with the increasingly wet moans of his cock claiming Indrid’s throat. Soon he’s out of words, too busy with the sight of himself forcing Indrid’s lips apart as he tightens around his fingers. Handjobs are a toss-up for him most days; sometimes they work, other times he can’t cum from them at all. It turns out what makes it very easy to do so is-

“‘Drid, fuck, fuck, sugar, yeah, right there, rightthererightthere ohfuckyeah.” He cums, jerking his hips hard enough to punch a new, high sound from Indrid’s throat. The other man pulls off, rests his cheek on Duck’s belly with shuddery, satisfied sighs.

“Y’know” Duck unbuttons his shirt from the bottom up so Indrid can more easily nuzzle the skin there, “I had this whole plan where I was gonna fuck you with this and then ride your face to cum.”

“I’m not opposed.” Indrid grins, bouncing a bit.

“Yeah, but I’ve only got one in me tonight. So” He tosses the shirt away, pulls off the harness as Indrid nibbles his hips, “if you wanna cum, you’re gonna have to do all the work.”

An edge enters his smile, “I can manage that.”

Duck hits the floor with a whump, Indrid trapping him on his back and climbing atop him, all the while kissing him with abandon.

“May I fuck you?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Condom?”

“Dop kit, bathroom, aw come back.”

“Patience, sweetheart” Indrid blows him a kiss, returns a few moments later doing an inelegant dance to kick his jeans and boxers away, “got one!”

“Good, now get back down here before I-AHfuck!” Indrid is on him and in him so fast it knocks his breath away.

“Before what? You’re not going anywhere, you’re mine, alllllll mine.” He drags kisses across Duck’s cheek, then bites his chapped lip as he looks down at him, “right?”

“You know it, nnng, fuck, that’s it sugar, be a good boy and cum for me. Fuck, darlin, wanted this so bad.” He locks his fingers into silver hair to keep Indrid in kissing distance as the other man whimpers, thrusts shallow and rabbity.

“Want you too, so much, I’ll be worth it, I swear, I’ll be good, I’ll, I’ll make you so happy.”

Duck rests their foreheads together, “You already do.”

There’s a high, gasping moan, almost like a chirp, and Indrid rides out his orgasm in drawn-out rolls of his hips. Then he collapses, laughing, on Duck’s chest.

“I, I’m sorry, I just never thought I’d get this. Someone wanting me. Choosing me.”

“I mean, I went on a T.V show to find love, so I know a little somethin about that fear. But I also know findin you is better than anythin I ever imagined.”

“Likewise.” Indrid nestles closer, one hand reaching out to hold Duck’s where it’s flopped on the rug.

“...You realize this means there’s a fifty-fifty chance your brother will win.”

Indrid shrugs, lifts his head to smile at Duck, “I leave that to Vincent. I already got my prize.”

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #bachelor au #meet ugly

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hellhound-wrangler · 3 years

Text

I have made the immensely foolish decision to dip my toes into the “writing fanfic” waters and I’m now regretting all my life choices. I have weird disjointed chunks of a story, some more edited than others. Also I apparently have a masochistic streak, because I’m writing fic for the game that aggravates me on almost every level, instead of one that isn’t actively maddening.

Anyhow, if you, too, have an inexplicable fondness for the garbage fire that is Fallout 3, I bring you a small offering of irradiated trash.

A week later, Charon shoved open the door of the Ninth Circle, a moaning drunk with broken hands draped over his shoulder (“Now take out the trash Charon, there’s a good boy” Azhrukhal had said before turning to the fool’s terrified friend to settle the briefly-disputed bar tab), and a slouching smoothskin leaving Carol’s Place took three long strides and caught the door, holding it open for him without comment. He spared a brief hard stare for the human, who looked back blandly. Unarmored, no visible weapons save a 10mm on their hip, torchlight glinting off their battered glasses, hair and skin and clothing all in unremarkable shades of gray and tan, just another scavver looking for oblivion in the shittiest bar in the end of the world. He wished he could warn the wastelander off before they poured more caps into Azhrukal’s safe and wound up robbed or dead or beaten or sold or whatever sick whim the old rat had in store, but standing orders strangled any warning he could offer in his throat (“Stop scaring off the customers, Charon”).

When he came back into the bar, he briefly thought that the smoothskin had had an attack of good sense and left, until he realized that the customer deep in conversation with Azhrukhal at the bar was not the injured ghoul’s partner after all. The colorless wasteland clothing was the same, but the line of the shoulders was too relaxed, the body on the barstool too long and slouched and balanced to be the stocky frantic drunk Charon had last seen sitting there, the voice too low and calm to be a strung-out fool trying to spare themself a beating.

He didn’t want to hear whatever trap Azhrukhal was weaving for another stupid tourist, and he concentrates instead on the music of the radio, the morbid calculation of how long it would take until the ceiling fell in, the low burn of a two-day thirst in his throat. Sinking into his misery, he let the sounds of the Ninth Circle wash over him.

“-keeps hackin’ and whackin’ and smackin’-”

“-unfailing, unflinching, until the day - “

“-drinks are foul-”

“-he finally met his fate/ But when they came to pay-”

“-a liability, the dog-catchers are coming-”

“-yesterday...I found one of Patchwork’s fingers-”

“-civilization is a thing for me to see -”

“ - must be kidding-”

“-bottle imp, Azhrukhal, will you be carried-”

“-how they coax him I’ll stay right here - “

“-need just a little bit of jet, I’ve got the shakes-”

“-never see him after tonight-”

“-what I do all year round-”

The sound of caps pouring onto sticky wood seizes the attention of every patron in the bar, and the refocusing of their bodies, rather than the sound itself, pulls Charon back to the present. The smoothskin drops an empty bag like garbage, a long messy pile of caps lying on the bar between them and Azhrukhal. The bartender draws in a single rattling breath and hastily shoves a filthy envelope across the bar to the human, eyes already on the treasure before him.

“Fine. Take your dog and get out.”

The human nods once, slipping their glasses from their face and tucking them into the neckline of their shirt. They stand smoothly, slouch vanishing as they rise. They open the envelope as they walk over to Charon, fishing something out. Their eyes are an eerily pale brown, catching the torchlight like an animal’s as they open their mouth to speak. Abruptly he recognizes them, the height (tall for a wastelander, though not compared to him) and the gleaming eyes - it’s the merc with the mottled armor. Ambush predator, he thinks again.

”Talk to Azhrukhal” Charon snarls, cutting them off. Whatever idiot deal they had entered with the bartender, he wanted as little to do with as possible.

“You are no longer under contract to Azhrukhal.” The smoothskin slides his folded contract from the envelope and extends it for him to see, looking absurdly as though they were offering it to Charon. One corner of their mouth curled up briefly, a snarl or a smile, there and gone again in an instant. “I promised him that tonight was the last time he’d see you.”

“You purchased my contract from Azhrukhal? So, I am no longer in his service. That is good to know. Please, excuse me.”

Dazed, wondering if he’s dreaming, Charon brushes past the smoothskin, closes the distance between him and his former employer, as Azhrukhal sweeps cap after cap into a box he pulled from beneath the bar. The bartender’s head jerks up, glowering, his mouth opening to spit some final insult but Charon’s shotgun is already in his hands. He had meant to confirm his change of employment, hear the old ghoul seal his fate by acknowledging that Charon was no longer bound to him, but suddenly the thought of hearing the bartender’s rotten voice even one time more is unendurable. Before Azhrukhal can speak, the spray of buckshot silences him forever. Charon watches the headless body fall and fires again, blowing apart the chest (head and heart, big boy, a woman’s memory whispers, if you want them to stay down). He considers shooting the corpse again, reducing it to scraps of meat and bone and buckshot until he runs out of shells, but decides that this is sufficient and slips the shotgun back into its sheath.

Over the startled screams that marked the patrons’ reaction to Azhrukhal’s death, his new employer’s voice comes clear and steady. “Do you need anything out of here before we leave?”

Charon snorts, rolls his shoulders to feel the press of the shotgun in its holster across his back, shakes his head. “No.”

#fallout 3 #I will probably delete this when I sober up #I think I spelled asshole bartender's name wrong but i do not care at this level of booziness

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