#he likes his sort of carefree off the walls nature which is something he feels he cant show. i also dont understand sasuke's intelligence | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

earthtooz · 11 months

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x : BOX OF SURPRISES :*+ﾟ

in which: sampo has something for you and you fall a little more in love with him.

warnings: 1k wc, FLUFF (slight angst), reader is a little mean :,) but it's bc sampo's annoying, gn!merchant!reader, banter, seemingly unrequited feelings, ambiguous relationship?

a/n: need this pathetic sop of a man so badly it's not even funny. anyways, enjoy! pls rb if u liked it :D

“sampo, what is the meaning of this?” setting down the heavy boxes of goods with a huff, suspicion stirs in your gut.

“did you not see my text earlier? i could have sworn you read it,” he hums, trailing off thoughtfully as he looks at you through his swept-aside strands of hair.

you look away from the carefree glint in his eyes whilst ignoring the pounding of your heart.

“i’m working, sampo- being an ethical and trustworthy merchant is a hard job, y’know?”

the man laughs, boisterous and loud. a migraine is coming, it's only natural to get one after dealing with its human embodiment.

“don’t you have other things to do?” you mutter.

“what, other than talking with my favourite fellow merchant?”

“you mean terrorising.”

sampo laughs again. this time, he shuts his eyes close and grins so wide that he flashes his annoyingly perfect teeth. it’s so painful that he’s so beautiful, if only that could excuse his horrendous personality (you adore him).

pretending to wipe a tear from his eyes, he sighs wistfully. “this is why i love talking to you, never a dull moment with you, y/n.”

you try not to let his flattery get to you. besides, he probably says this to all of his competitors just to butter them up, breaking their walls before inevitably taking them and distributing their resources to consumers at cheaper prices.

“whatever, sampo. will you leave me alone now?”

“hey, hey, hey, what’s the rush?” he asks, putting his hands on his hips. you try not to look at the exposed skin that sits above. “the business day is over. don’t you have some time to spare for little old me?”

“the business day may be over for me but never for crooks like you. besides. i need to pack up and i want to go home, so i don’t appreciate any delays.”

“you think of me as a mere ‘delay’?” sampo gestures to himself, all grandiose and dramatics. “i’m hurt, and here i was thinking that we had a connection.”

there’s a part of you that hopefully yearns for him to expand on the ‘connection’ he so speaks of, but the desire fades as quickly as it appears, replaced with dejection instead. to cross the line with sampo koski would be fatal for your business and you fear that you were already toeing the boundaries. tolerating and talking to him for goodwill was one thing, but going ahead and falling for him was another.

furthermore, you don’t like the feeling that he knows about how you feel. everywhere you turn, sampo is there, leaning against the wall, looking like temptation itself as he toys with those small blades of his. they’re kind of like boomerangs, but you’re not too sure.

there’s a lot about sampo you’re not too sure about- perhaps if you weren’t a competing merchant, you would have tried to learn them all.

“you drive me insane,” you murmur, packing up all the leftover goods into a crate.

“let me help you,” he offers, picking up some goods and sorting them without permission. you have half a mind to slap him away, but against the better judgement of your brain, you allow him to assist.

when the crate is filled, sampo walks over to grab another empty box, passing it to you. you eye him suspiciously and the blue-haired merchant is quick to make a comment on your speculatory glance.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

“why are you… helping me?”

“what? is it so wild that sampo koski can be of assistance? i have some good in my heart, ya know,” he sings, reaching over your stall to adjust the twisted strap of your outfit.

sampo winks at you when he meets your gaze again.

you hate the way your body reacts to his fleeting touch, and the way you want more. you want to feel how his hands would fit in yours, or around your waist, or holding your face, or-

“speechless, are we now?” chuckles the merchant. “i normally elicit this reaction-”

shaking your thoughts away, you cut him off with a slam of your crate, defeated by the betrayal of your own wandering mind. “sampo.”

for a moment, shock shines in his eyes, his hair bouncing as he jolts. you also can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to run your hands through it. if he won’t share his heart then perhaps his hair care routine could do, after all, it is unfair to have such luminous hair despite running around all day.

“didn’t you have something for me?” you ask, trying not to let your exasperation bleed into your tone. “that’s why you’re here, no?”

he presses a hand to his chest and acts like he's been shot. “so you read my message and chose not to reply? i’m hurt, y/n, how cou-”

“sampo. please, i’m in no mood to banter. can we get this exchange over and done with?”

for a flash of a second, you delude yourself into seeing a slight furrow in sampo’s eyebrows, expression moulding into something akin to sadness. it’s a face that will haunt your dreams, you think, especially with the way he glanced away from you, doubt evident in his body language as he nods shyly.

it's not like sampo to break eye contact, but he recovers too quickly for you to comment on it and then further shuts you up when he presents an innocently pretty box. through common sense, it looks like a box of chocolates, but because you know sampo koski, you’re a little frightful of the contents inside.

“wh-what’s the meaning of this?” you ask, eyeing the gift carefully.

sampo pushes it further towards you. “open it and find out!”

“it’s not going to blow up in my face, is it?”

“do you think so little of me?”

“yes, because you trick people like this, sampo, by presenting a seemingly innocent box of chocolates and then bam- they blow up in-”

“okay, okay, i promise this isn’t one of them ones that go ‘bam’! trust me!”

"okay... i'll trust you on this one."

with a little reluctance, you take the outstretched box, scepticism written all over your face. preparing for the worst, you untie the little bow and gently lift off the cover, melting at the contents within.

chocolates of various sizes and design litter the inside and the cuteness of it is enough to make you melt, the small smile appearing on your face only a tiny indication of the affection growing within you. not to mention, these sweets don’t look like the cheap mimics that the underworld produces. how did sampo get his hands on these, and why would he give them to you?

suddenly laced with guilt at the unnecessary attitude and rudeness you showed him earlier, you look up with a ‘thank you’ and apology on the tip of your tongue, but he’s gone. disappeared into thin air at the crumbling of your heart's walls.

disappointed, you sigh and make a mental note to thank him the next time you see him. resuming your packing up, you’re unaware of the new brightness your expression carries, and how you move around with a little more bounce to your step.

hugging the gift close to you, a certain merchant lays low nearby and watches how enthused you seem by the new gift. sampo concludes then and there that your smile is priceless and he would do anything to be the cause of it.

if only he could tell you.

#my pookie...#exams are over and the first thing i write is sampo. what is happening.#anyways.#sampo x reader #sampo koski x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai x reader #sampo fluff #sampo x reader fluff

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psychxpxthic · 1 year

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|| @ofxfiercexfemales | 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹 || ______________________________________________________________ 𝐈𝐓'𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐘... the day which Edgar had endured such heavy trauma to his head which caused him to lose all recollection of his former self. Thankfully Susan, a woman to whom he'd label as being someone who wasn't shy of wearing her heart upon her sleeve⸺ and ever so proudly at that, had taken him in while also going as far as to offering him a place to stay. Edgar couldn't imagine how things would have turned out if it wasn't her; and to say he was grateful for everything the woman had done for him from that day forward would be a vast understatement.

Things had been fairly calm for the past week, with Edgar himself beginning to feel rather comfortable to his new surroundings. The Baxter Building was a rather pleasant place, one of which never a singular time made him feel alienated or unwelcomed in the slightest. There was a few people who stayed within it's walls, though despite this, all within the headquarters could clearly see who it was that Edgar had truly taken the most liking to; that being Susan Storm herself.

There was always such a distinct, divergent reaction he'd give towards her in particular. Yes, he would offer kindness to the others, but there was always a sort of awkwardness he'd present to the other members, dare I say, hesitancy too. Now, it wasn't that they were crude to him by any means, matter of fact the complete opposite! But one could tell he wasn't fully trusting, tranquil, or secure their presence like he was to her. It was noted how he'd always seem to try and end, or shut down conversations made to him from Susan's collogues, or how he'd try to retreat and avoid conversations with them. But she? She was different.

Eyes would light up the moment she was in frame, always being greeted with such a genuine, pleased, and carefree smile. And unlike the other's, Edgar evidently would try to strike up and keep conversations going with her. One could argue this came from her being the one to of saved him; the one that made him feel the most accepted. Or as a substitute, it could be something far more simple than that, this being that possibly her aroura and personal nature was something he got on with. It was hard to tell for the time being...

There was though something that could not go without ignoring about their new arrival, that being⸺

…something greatly plagued his mind...

You see, Edgar would have moments of 'losing himself', periodically seeming to be in some sort of trance, so much so where he'd lack giving coherent responses, or, any responses at all to that matter. On top of this, he'd be recognized as having frequent headaches; not minor ones either, but ones that reached the level of migraines with occasional vertigo. This had been going on for his entire time being there, something that was not at all brought on from the head trauma done from a week ago. Especially seeing how the lump had gone down entirely, and all the other injuries dealt upon him was recovering at a significant rate.

For the time being, Edgar was absent from his assigned room. Instead, he'd been sat in one of the many break rooms that was riddled throughout the complex; one in particular that Edgar had realize not many people there frequented. Here, he'd appeared to be off in his own little world; looking ahead with eyes that held practically nothing to it's foundation, making them appear almost lifeless and empty.

#ofxfiercexfemales #;;𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐏 #;;𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐇; Long #;;𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄; Amnesia

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rocorambles · 3 years

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What Is Love?

Pairing: Gojo x reader (Main), Nanami x reader (Side)

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Rape, Sacrilegious, God Complex and Delusional Gojo, Somnophilia, Slapping, Choking, Humiliation, Coercion, Non-Con Infidelity

Summary: Gojo learns what love is and unfortunately, you're the object of his newfound affection.

A/N: Thank you as always for beta-ing @sawamooora and dedicating this to my dear @lets-go-datehoe. Thank you for sending this request, Yuli~

Love? Gojo Satoru doesn’t believe in love. Love is for hopeless, lonely souls. Love is for miserable pathetic wretches desperate to fill an emptiness in their hearts, in their lives.

When everyone in the world is already falling head over heels to serve him, to be with him, when he's given everything he's ever wanted and more on a silver platter, why would he need love?

Gojo Satoru is already at the top of the world, with or without love.

Now lust? Gojo understands lust.

Carnal pleasure is never unwelcomed and unlike his elders, his head isn’t shoved so far up his ass to deny that he adores the feeling of his cock inside a slobbering mouth, a sopping wet cunt, an exquisitely tight ass.

But more than that, his arrogance and ego thrives and swells as women throw themselves at him, the feeling of being desired only fueling the prideful monster inside of him, only fueling his borderline delusion.

Of course everyone wants him. He’s Gojo Satoru after all.

And so he lets himself be worshipped, lets woman after woman praise him, reveling in the way they chant his name like a prayer as he returns their devotion with thick sticky white blessings. He smirks at the way they kneel before him, staring up at him in reverence, their pretty mouths and throats stretched wide across his cock.

Gojo Satoru is a god, and gods do not chase after mere mortals. So when he meets and you barely give him the time of day other than a polite bow, he shrugs his shoulders.

You’re just another disbeliever. Another silly lamb he needs to convert. Nothing more. Nothing less. Definitely nothing to get worked up about.

It’s almost amusing how you’re playing hard to get, sinning by spitting such crude and crass remarks at a deity like him every time he tries to speak to you. And it’s almost infuriating how you turn your nose up at him, as if you’re qualified to have an opinion of him, let alone think of him as beneath you. But he hides the pleased smile on his face when he sees your gaze linger just a tad too long to be mere coincidence the first time he reveals his eyes to you, a look of awe slipping past your scowling countenance.

See? They all come around eventually.

And so he lays it on thicker, draping his tall figure over yours, letting his warm breath grace the back of your neck, murmuring coy words in your ear. His long fingers find themselves tangling in your hair, brushing against your hands, touching every part of you as much as he can get away with.

You’re so close. He can feel your walls slowly crumbling away, can see the unsureness in your eyes as you half heartedly nudge him away after unconsciously leaning into his touch. Just a little more…

Except something, or rather someone, stops him.

Gojo Satoru isn’t usually caught off guard, especially not by the likes of Nanami Kento. The ex-salary man is a good man, but just a man nonetheless, no matter how you dress it up. But Gojo grudgingly admits at least surprise, if not something more, when he hears you’re in Tokyo and decides to pay your apartment a visit, only to find the Grade 1 sorcerer’s tongue shoved down your throat, your naked bodies entangled in rumpled bed sheets.

He tells himself it’s just a one night stand...maybe a friends with benefits relationship at most when he happens to catch both of you holding hands in broad daylight, a carefree smile he’s never seen before stretched across Nanami’s face as he sits at a cafe table with you, watching you happily munch on some pastry his underclassman has purchased for you.

Nothing he can’t handle.

But if you were a bitch before, a snarling ferocious wildcat whenever Gojo was around, you’re even worse now. Your apathy, the nonchalance with which you politely smile and nod in acknowledgement at Gojo before promptly ignoring him for the suited man by your side, gets under his skin like nothing ever has before. For once, Gojo is at a loss.

Ahh, so this is what denial feels like. This is the rejection and emptiness that he’s seen drive others to madness. This is love.

Gojo Satoru experiences his first heartache, but he doesn’t break down into pitiful sobs, he doesn’t mope around in self-pity.

He laughs.

He’s lost the battle, but he hasn’t lost the war. And when others would have turned tail and fled, he stands his ground, icy blue eyes sparkling in glee at the prospect of a new challenge, the prospect of his sweetest victory yet.

Gojo Satoru is a dangerous man. You know that with all your heart and soul, so it only makes sense that your hackles raise anytime he’s in your proximity. Maybe you take it too far, disrespecting your senior to an extent that would bring shame to you if it were anyone other than the Special Grade sorcerer. But in hindsight you’ll wish you did more.

You’ll wish you hadn’t caught the attention of the world’s strongest sorcerer. You’ll wish you hadn’t found yourself mesmerized by his sheer power, by those damning, dazzling eyes. You’ll wish you hadn’t begun to be ensnared by his allure, a trap you’ve heard the consequences of far too often from your heartbroken and weeping fellow female sorcerers. Maybe you’ll even wish you had just let him have a taste of you, use you before tossing you out like trash, like every other woman who’s fallen in bed with him, instead of whetting his appetite only to deny him of his feast, only to have him fixate on you even more.

But like Gojo, you know love and lust are two different things. And when Nanami shows up in your life, like a knight in shining armor, you feel Gojo’s spell on you shatter, your heart fluttering and thawing the ice that had begun to creep up your body, trapping you in endless blue.

Love is blinding, and really, you should have known that normal boundaries don’t exist in Gojo’s world. But your adoration for your lover has you hesitantly, but politely, letting the cheerful sorcerer into your shared home with Nanami — even though your boyfriend is overseas for a mission, not due back for at least another week.

It would be a lie to say you’re completely relaxed and fine with the circumstance you’re in, alone with Gojo Satoru with no chance of anyone being able to help you if something were to happen. But for whatever reason, Nanami respects the man, even considers him a friend, and in turn you feel an obligation of sorts to at least be cordial. And besides, Gojo isn’t a good man, but he’s not a bad man…right?

You find it difficult to believe that Gojo didn’t know Nanami was out of town, that his pout is sincere when you tell him that Nanami won’t be back anytime soon. There are only so many Grade 1 sorcerers in Tokyo and even less that Gojo actively keeps in touch with. But what’s the alternative? Believe Gojo came to see you? Unlikely.

Gojo is a womanizer, a slut, whatever other word you want to use. But a homewrecker? Especially of a dear friend? Never. (Frankly, you think it would just be too much of a bother for the emotionally stunted man.)

And you’re glad to see that your theories are proving to be true as the night continues, wondering if maybe the white-haired man is just lonely.

He’s strangely pleasant as he keeps a respectable distance from you, no suggestive comments spewing from his mouth, even his obnoxious arrogance kept to a tolerable low. You feel your guard drop, your smiles feeling more natural, genuine laughs slipping past your lips as he tells you about his latest adventures and missions.

But as a yawn interrupts your conversation and you stare askance at how late it is before urging him home to get some rest, apologizing for keeping him so long, your heart drops as you feel an overwhelming presence caging you against your living room couch, long limbs on either side of your body.

“What do you see in Nanami that you don’t see in me?”

The question is so jarring you almost forget the panic rising in your chest, mouth moving soundlessly as you try to process the meaning of his words. But instead of an answer, all that bubbles out of you is a shaky plea for him to leave.

Gojo’s never been good at following orders or commands. Why would he be? Since when has a god ever needed to listen to mortals? And you’re no exception.

You whimper as you’re suddenly transported to the bedroom you share with Nanami, struggling to no avail as Gojo easily tears your clothing off, positioning you on all fours in front of the floor-length mirror that decorates the corner of the room. Bile rises in your throat as he takes his blindfold off, blue eyes seemingly piercing your soul even through just a reflection and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to imagine you’re anywhere but here, with anyone other than him, trying to grasp at every fond memory you have of your blonde lover. But Gojo has a point to make and you gasp, eyes snapping wide open as a large hand wraps around your neck, choking you until you’re forced to stare at your joined bodies on the mirrored surface.

“Look at how perfect we are together. Look at how perfect you are underneath me. You chose that instead of this?”

You sob when he twists your head and forces you to look at a framed photograph on your vanity, a photo Nanami and you had taken together when he had brought you overseas with him for a mission.You regret not insisting that you go with him this time around, wishing more than anything else that you were wrapped in his strong arms.

There’s something irritating about your wailing and blubbering, your little hiccups and sniveling only fueling something dark and twisted inside of Gojo. Maybe it’s the way he knows that you’d never act like this if he was Nanami. Maybe it’s the way he knows you’re lust incarnate whenever Nanami has his hands or mouth on you. Maybe it’s the way he knows that you despise him and his touch so much, that you’d rather die than let him have you.

Ungrateful bitch.

Well if you’re going to cry, Gojo might as well give you something to cry about. A crazed grin slices his handsome face as your screams reach an all-time high, a frenzy, as he shoves his cock inside your unprepped hole, his shaft twitching in interest when you desperately wail his name over and over again as if that would do anything other than have him intensify his pace. But as pretty as his name sounds from your mouth, he tires of your useless pleas for him to stop. Gojo uses one hand to shove your face into the floor, your garbled cries muffled by the carpet as he chases his end, moaning at how perfect your tight, gummy walls feel around him. He’s dreamt of this for far too long and with a grunt, he cums inside of you, draping over your body and pressing his lips against the back of your neck, affectionately marking and tasting you as he empties his balls.

Through the pain and shame, relief floods through you, hope that this is finally all over, that he’ll leave you and your battered body alone. And you play dead, letting him do as he pleases, only occasionally wincing when he leaves a particularly intense mark on your skin, momentarily cringing when he pulls out, thick liquid trickling from your abused hole.

But you should have known better, should have known this was just the beginning.

You weakly paw at the strong arms easily cradling your exhausted figure, trying to wriggle as much as your aching body allows you to, sobbing into his shoulder when you see the direction you’re headed in. You wonder how it’s possible to feel even dirtier as calloused hands lather you with soapy suds, as Gojo takes his time scanning every inch of your body, intimately caressing and mapping every line and curve. And you plead for forgiveness from Nanami when slick begins to pool between your legs, as Gojo gently kneads and experiments with your breasts, rolling your nipples, long fingers expertly circling your clit and slipping inside of you.

Your orgasm shatters you and you stand there like a rag doll, body convulsing and eyes rolling back in your head as you drench Gojo’s digits with your arousal, the sticky strands of betrayal staining his hand as he brings it to your mouth. He gently peppers your neck and shoulder with encouraging kisses as you submissively suck him clean, tugging you along as he dries you off before tucking the both of you in bed, holding you in the mockery of a lover’s embrace. It doesn’t escape your notice that he’s chosen to sleep on Nanami’s side of the bed and shame has you curling into a fetal position, has you burying your face in the bedsheets, hoping for at least a whiff of Nanami’s familiar scent, a reminder of his presence.

It works, and you let yourself fall into a restless sleep, your lips twitching every so slightly upwards despite the tears still trapped in your lashes as you think of a tall blonde man, a yellow spotted tie wrapped around your hands as you teasingly pull a spectacled face in for a kiss. You writhe and twist in your sleep, heavily panting as you imagine Nanami’s hands roaming on your figure, his lips tenderly kissing a bold line down your neck and in between the valleys of your breasts. And as you imagine his fingers carefully rubbing your clit, you sigh his name, only to be abruptly woken as a lance of pain shreds through you.

Eyelids still heavy with sleep, body still groggy from being so suddenly roused, you can’t piece together what’s happening, one of your hands instinctively cupping your smarting cheek. But you frantically claw and bat in the dark, knowing exactly who’s on top of you despite the fact that your eyes haven’t fully adjusted to the blackness, the way your body is ripped apart once more, a telltale sign of whose cock is penetrating you.

“It’s very rude to say another man’s name when I’m the one making you feel so good. Let me teach you the only name you need to know."

There’s something horribly intimate about the position you two are in, the way he’s tainting the very sheets and mattress Nanami had made love to you on countless times. You wish you could force yourself back to sleep, could gouge out your eyes as you begin to make out the man pistoning in and out of you. But it’s no use and you know even sightless, those icy blue orbs are branded in your mind.

You vow to at least not give him the satisfaction of hearing his name from your mouth, pressing and biting your lips until a copper taste assaults your tastebuds. But Gojo has always been talented at everything he does, those gifted eyes seeing far more than they should. You shake your head side to side in denial as a knot quickly begins to form in your gut, body tensing as you feel another wave coming over you, only to let out a confused whimper when everything suddenly stops.

“You get to cum when you say my name and the magic word.”

The playful lilt and childish tone have you seeing red and you sneer in twisted pleasure when a gob of your spit hits him squarely in the face, a litany of curse words and insults spewing from deep inside of you, uncaring of how you’re more like a raving madwoman than a victim.

But you’re not the first brat Gojo’s had to tame, and he just smirks condescendingly down at you before playing you like an instrument, easily bringing you to that narrow brink where even a single breath of air, or a simple flick of a finger seems like it would have you toppling over the edge, only to relentlessly snatch you right back before you can fall.

You don’t know how long he goes on for, your shattered and denied mind barely cognizant of the beginnings of daylight creeping through the window. But as the rays of light make it to your bed, you break.

“Gojo-”

You howl when he pulls out, hips wantonly thrusting in the air for more friction as he crudely slaps his tip against your clit, a frown on his lips.

“That’s not the name I want to hear.”

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. Where’s your fucking backbone? How could you even entertain the idea of screaming another man’s name in your lover’s bed?

But when he steps away, your eyes zero in on how his cock separates from the sopping wet mess between your thighs, an unbidding distressed whine clawing up your throat at the thought of being left high and dry, mind hazy with lust and arousal.

“Sa-Satoru…Satoru, please.”

There’s work to be done and he’s not entirely pleased by the note of hesitancy and reluctance he still hears despite the hours he’s taken out of his time to educate you. But a promise is a promise and fuck if he doesn’t love the way his given name sounds in your mouth. And with just a few more meticulously placed thrusts and practiced twists of his fingers, you come undone, your lewd sex-crazed appearance and dopey smile from finally getting your sweet release dragging him down with you.

But it doesn’t end there and Gojo makes good use of your empty house, of the week he has alone with you.

There’s not a single surface in your home, not a single hole on your body that isn’t used and marked thoroughly. And even he briefly wonders if he’s being too rough with you, a flicker of concern crossing his mind as he pouts at the idea of his new toy breaking so soon.

But you prove your resilience and a strange concoction of pride and irritation festers inside of him as you determinedly clamp your mouth shut, a spark of defiance lighting up those lust-clouded eyes whenever he urges you to say you love him back, despite the way you practically ride and hump his face as he kneels between your legs and eats you out in the kitchen, despite the way you slur and babble his name over and over again like it’s the only thing you know how to say.

You’re adorable and he wishes he had all the time in the world to break you fully without using his trump card, to see just how durable you really are. But time is ticking and Nanami is due back any day now.

“Say you love me.”

He coaxes you by gently holding you in his arms, peppering your face with butterfly kisses, endearingly observing the way you seek the little comfort you can get despite the fact that he’s the giver, so deprived of anything other than frenzied arousal. But steely resolve hardens your eyes and you turn your face away.

“I love Nanami.”

You brace yourself for a cock slamming inside of you, a hand wrapped around your throat, but you aren’t ready for the endless galaxy that suddenly surrounds you, and blood-curling fear washes over you.

Unlimited Void.

You’d have to be living under a rock not to know of it, and yet, seeing it in person, you can safely say the rumors and tales don’t do it justice. Gojo laughs at how you frantically cling onto him, your arms wrapping around him, your face burying itself into his chest, voice trembling as you beg him to release you, beg him to get rid of his domain expansion, beg him not to let you go. You’ve seen the aftermaths of his technique, seen curses and sorcerers much stronger than yourself reduced to brain-dead husks from mere seconds in his domain.

“Say you love me.”

The words are on the tip of your tongue, fear making you docile. But a flash of blonde, a glimpse of a tailored suit in your mind keeps your saving grace stuck in your throat. You tell yourself it’s okay, you don’t mean it, it’s just a means to save yourself, surely Nanami will understand. And you begin to open your mouth, only to break off in a scream as you’re roughly shoved away, your hesitation speaking volumes to the white-haired sorcerer who sighs in irritation.

Not that you really notice or maybe you notice too well. You aren’t sure. You are sure. You can feel your sanity rapidly slipping as everything and nothing slams into your senses at once.

“Satoru, I love you!!”

It’s barely comprehensible, a shrieked frantic wail muddied by anxiety. But it’s enough and you sob in relief when Gojo ruffles your hair like you’re a well-behaved pet, leaning into his touch and digging your nails into his wrist, keeping his contact on you still and steady, dry heaving as you come back to your senses.

You don’t even realize that the repeated mantra is still coming out of your own mouth as you fling yourself onto the sorcerer as his artificial universe fades away, curling up in his lap, heart pounding as you chant “I love you, I love you, I love you” over and over again like it’s your holy scripture.

Gojo is on cloud nine watching you finally come to faith, finally worship him and praise him. You were lost, and now you’re found. And he has no intentions of ever letting you stray again. It’s not like there’s anywhere else for you to go, anything else for you to do other than warm his cock anyway.

He crashes his lips against yours as he easily slips inside your well-used cunt, walls molded and shaped perfectly after countless rounds. It’s sinful how good you feel, how good you sound, and he can feel his balls tighten, his own end quickly approaching as you shatter to pieces over and over again around him, quivering walls milking him, clamping down on him as if you can’t bear the thought of being empty.

But there’s nothing to worry about. What god would leave his faithful disciple unrewarded? What declaration of faith comes without a baptism? And he cums inside of you, hot spurts filling you up, branding you, marking and claiming you as his, the sticky white trails leaking out of your stuffed cunt a public declaration of who you belong to.

There’s silence as he lets you collapse on top of him, grinning at how blissfully fucked out you look, cock already twitching in interest again as he spies the mess of tears and drool dripping down your chin. But there are matters of business to attend to first and he nudges you to look at him, cooing down at vacant eyes still hazy with pleasure.

“Nanami is returning tomorrow-”

Blinding pain shocks you as a large hand tangles with your roots, pulling your head back so far you think your neck might snap.

“What are you so happy about?”

There’s a lightness to his question, the silence before the storm, and you wipe the smile off your face, hissing as he tugs harder.

“I know you like me more, but I didn’t think you would be heartless enough to be so excited about breaking up with your boyfriend. Poor Nanami.”

Even through the pain, the unspoken weight of his words registers in your head and you snarl at him with a vengeance.

“I’m not breaking up with-”

Your throat goes dry as he relinquishes his hold on you, one hand raising to eye-level, pointer and middle fingers beginning to cross, and you go still, mouth snapping shut.

“Good girl. Now you’ve experienced Unlimited Void for yourself. What do you think would happen to Nanami if I left him in there for even a second? Do you think he’d ever be the same even if he were to somehow survive, even if he were to go through months of rehabilitation?”

The inquisitive tone makes it sound like just a bunch of theoretical questions, but you know better, know the ramble for the threat that it is.

Love is about sacrifice, and you’re willing to give it all up for the man whose contact Gojo is pulling up on your phone, whose number is being called. And as the ringtones finally stop and a familiar voice greets you over the speaker, you seal your fate.

#yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #gojo smut #tw: noncon #tw: rape #tw: somnophilia #tw: yandere

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lizbotw · 3 years

Text

impatient | itadori

you can’t decide if being left alone with him is a blessing or a curse half the time.

itadori yuuji x reader

word count: 2.2k

inspired by fushiguro being all pouty when he didn’t get to help itadori and kugisaki in that one episode :(

“This is so boring.”

“Yuuji, shut up.”

Shoe soles scrapping against the gravel, you didn’t even bother looking at him, although the burning gaze you already felt prickled the hairs on the back of your neck.

“You’re bored too.” It wasn’t a question.

“We’re supposed to wait for them out here.”

There was a flash of color in your peripheral and a side glance revealed that he was tapping the heel of his red sneakers on the ground—another thirty seconds of that and you’d probably end up threatening him to a life without legs (not that it’d work—Sukuna in all his stupid glory would just regenerate them for his precious vessel; speaking of which, if Sukuna decided to start complaining right now too, you were sure you would lose your mind).

Whistling wind was the only reply to your statement and, content your ears would be spared from the monologue of complaints Yuuji had been going through for who-knows-how-long-now, you crossed your arms and tilted your head back to lean against the brick wall. The stone was dusted with a rustic red—standard, yet somehow fitting for the scene around you. The building looming in front of you was dilapidated in appearance, but you admitted the sleepy residential neighborhood it was located in had some charm to it in a weary, tired sort of way. The splash of brightly colored flowers and houses on some corners really upped the appeal you had to say.

Caught up surveying the surrounding area in admiration, you were almost able to forget about the boy perched on top of the junction where the wall dipped in its height down to a low brick fence just short enough to climb on top of. Almost.

As soon as the sigh left him from beside you, your face reacted before your mind had even fully comprehended what it meant (what it meant was that there was no chance you’d get any peace and quiet around here at this rate), your features annoyed and frowning and everything in between as had become routine at this point. “Why can’t we go in?” he whined, nudging you with his knee. His gaze was expectant and weirdly innocent as he peered up at you, as though you were explaining to a child why they had to have patience. You supposed that comparison could be accurate most times when it came to Yuuji.

“Because Gojou said so.”

“He’s not even here!” That was true. He was off on some super secret mission, although the instructions he had given the group of you were specific—or... er, not too specific that you couldn’t take some... creative liberties in their interpretation, such as stopping for ice cream on the way there as per Kugisaki’s demand request—trusting the lot of you to take care of yourselves and follow them to a T. And by that, he of course meant Fushiguro keeping everyone in line.

There was another curse to take care of, yet Gojou had decided to have you two sit this one out and simply accompany Megumi and Nobara to the site—those two were to actually head inside and deal with the threat. In hindsight, it all made sense considering you, Yuuji, and Megumi had spent more time around each other prior to Nobara’s arrival at the school, no matter how minuscule the time difference was. Hell, you and Yuuji had both spent more time fighting alongside Nobara than Megumi had (they always seemed to keep getting separated from each other in some way or another during the early missions, a laughable observation now that you thought about it). Naturally, letting those two duke it out and come to a somewhat agreeable partnership was the best course of action, and what better way to do that than force them into an abandoned building together?

But even in spite of all that clear-minded reasoning, you couldn’t lie that you weren’t more than a little peeved that you weren’t getting in on any of the action. You scoffed. Team bonding, but at what cost? At the cost of your sanity, that’s what.

You rubbed your temples, squeezing your eyes shut. You no longer wanted to see. “Yuuji, we’re supposed to keep watch,” you huffed out, exasperated. Although truth be told, the title of “guards” just seemed like some fancy namesake Gojou had given you two in order to placate you and make you feel like you were actually doing something. Needless to say, it was not working.

The low section of the wall he sat upon was one half of the area that flanked the archway of the path that led up to the building, and Yuuji, stupid and silly and cute, peeked his head just around the corner to look out of the entrance at the (empty) street and then turned back to you with a shrug. “Nothing there. Job done.” Playfully adorable as he was, you cracked a smile at that, shaking your head.

“Guess you’re right—job done,” you conceded.

He beamed and then hopped off of the ledge, pacing now. You wanted to stretch your legs too and go exploring around the area, but you were trying to be the voice of reason here, knowing that if you gave up that control you were a goner for sure. It was painfully easy to get swept up in his antics.

You barely even registered him setting off on another tangent about how he wanted to go inside too, more so focused on his hands as he switched from swinging them at his side to putting them up in a mock thinking expression for his head to rest upon as he kept walking back and forth in front of you—you were wondering if (and if so, when was the perfect moment) you could reach out and grab ahold of his hand to still the restless energy... and also partially because you just wanted to.

“They’ve been in there a long time, haven’t they?” Yuuji mused, your mind actually picking up on the question now that it was directed at you and not at some vague imaginary spot in the distance. He was right. You noted the glow of the red of the bricks making up the wall as they shone brilliantly warm under the softer evening light, the silent ticking of time among the clouds your only indication of the day passing. The sky was in between the bright shades of blue of the sunny afternoon and the orange hues that were gradually creeping in and mixing with them.

“They have,” you confirmed. You wondered if you would be here until nightfall with how long it was taking them. You crossed your arms again and drummed your fingers against them. Come on already, I have things to do.

After a staring contest with one of the many dust-covered windows of the building as though you were mentally willing the two inside to come out, your narrowed gaze swung over to Yuuji to see what he was up to and promptly widened. You hadn’t noticed that he had stopped his pacing and was looking at you now, closer than you remembering him being moments before.

“And... we’ve been alone this entire time, haven’t we?” Another step forward, casual yet making you suspicious all the same.

“...yes,” you replied, wary of the grin he had—you would’ve thought it was Sukuna if not for the crinkle of his eyes into a smile that matched the one on his lips (oh yeah, that was Yuuji alright).

His steps were so easy, carefree, as though he were sauntering up to talk to you any other time, but you knew him and you knew when he was planning something. Sure, there were times you were downright confused by just about everything he did, but then there were others where his thoughts were just plain obvious.

“And what have we been doing?” In one swift movement he had trapped you against the wall—another step and your back would hit the surface—piercing look pinning you in place. It was a sudden development but you also had the notion that you should have seen this coming from a mile away. He didn’t even need to put an arm out to prevent you from side-stepping out of the spot, his mere presence enough (although you very much wanted to wipe that sweet smile off of his face).

Your mind scrambled for words, you glancing off to the side briefly—you could not maintain eye contact with him like this. “Talking?”

His eyes lit up and you had the feeling you’d just fallen right into his trap. The hand that came up to cup your face confirmed your suspicions. “Yeah, and that’s boring, isn’t it?”

You swallowed, trying to still your breathing. “It is...”

Yuuji tilted his face forward to lean his forehead against yours, skin warm. Both of you were silent aside from the quiet hitches of breath, scrutinizing one another. When you felt his thumb press against the full part of your bottom lip in interest, you just about lost it. His voice was smooth and low when he spoke, “I was going to wait until later but...” You felt him breath in.

Later was usually when anything happened, you two not yet entirely bold or confident enough when it came to most displays of affection in public—or at least in front of the others that was. Their teasing was enough to have your face burning in shame for days, even if you had to admit it was funny at times. You barely even held hands in front of them. Then again... following Yuuji’s train of thought... you had been out here alone for so long already... maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just...—you weren’t lost to contemplation for long though as he brought you back to reality.

A mere brush of his lips against yours stopped you from replying, your eyes falling closed, heart hammering. Your hand found a weak grip on the front of his shirt as you waited expectantly for the warm flush of his mouth.

“What are you two doing?”

You jolted at the familiar voice, heart hammering for an entirely different reason now, and pulled away from Yuuji’s face, although his grip on your head didn’t let you get far, the press of his ring finger and pinky into the back of your neck dizzying. Fushiguro and Kugisaki stood a few feet away, looking a little worse for wear with minor scrapes and bruises littered on their exposed skin, but thankfully all in one piece.

Eyes darting to them, mind reeling as you realized the compromising position you had been caught in, you thought up an excuse on the spot.

“Standing guard.”

“About to kiss.”

You and Yuuji both spoke at once. You slowly looked at each other, blinking.

A second passed and then— “Why are you lying?” he asked, genuinely confused.

You slapped a hand across his chest in horror at him blatantly blowing your cover like that. “Yuuji!” You were mortified (but also... he was still so close... it was almost easy to forget that the other two were still there).

“I...” Fushiguro looked like he was about to say something but thought better of it and shook his head. “I don’t want details. Let’s just go.”

A sigh of relief left you, but then Yuuji gave a chipper, “Okay!” and when he still didn’t release his hold, you had a vague feeling in your gut that something was wrong—

He leaned forward to close the gap at last and press his lips against yours, swallowing up your breath in the process—then he pulled away like it was nothing, off to go bother Fushiguro about the details of the curse.

You stood there, dumbfounded.

A gasp. “Gross!” Kugisaki shrieked, sounding like she wanted a break from everything that had occurred in the past five hours. She was sticking her tongue out, nose scrunched up and eyes screwed shut. “I cannot see anything cute after dealing with that thing inside.” A nose of discontentment, “Bleh.” But then she seemed to have a moment of clarity, clapping both hands on the side of her face and giving you a look that might as well have been an overexaggerated wink paired with her shouting every cliche couple trope from the rooftops. “But also... romantic.” Please someone save you.

Fushiguro was looking a little pale himself, caught off guard by the display of affection, staring at you, but then catching himself and looking away. He looked embarrassed and he didn’t even have anything to do with it.

Carefully, robotically, you brought a finger up to brush against your lips, still warm where Yuuji’s had molded between them, and subsequently noticed the teasing look he was giving you in the distance. It was a little too smug for your liking.

You stalked up to him and jabbed a finger into his chest, staring him down. “Yuuji, I swear-”

Kugisaki shoved the two of you towards the exit before you could get into a fist fight over a single surprise kiss, tsking while Fushiguro followed behind in her wake (you wondered if he would recover from... that any time soon—poor boy). “Okay, move it along, lovebirds. I want to go take a shower.”

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angelasscribbles · 2 years

Text

Savage Love Chapter 7: New York Redux

Series: Savage Love

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Rating: NSFW

Warnings: LEMONS 🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋

Word count: 5298 it's long sorry/not sorry

My other stuff: Master List.

I spent the morning going over the case with Jared then at the boutique to try on the dress and make sure the alterations had been done correctly. I stashed the dress in my room, ate the lunch I had sent up then got ready to meet Liam.

I decided on short, double layered red skirt paired with a casual scoop neck white t-shirt because it was cute and stylish, but I could wear athletic trainers with them to make hiking around the grounds comfortable. It also showed off my legs. I threw my phone and room key into a small black cross body bag and headed toward the gazebo for the tour of the grounds Liam had promised me.

He was already there. He was learning casually against the outside of the gazebo, looking down at his phone. He was dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a deep maroon button down shirt, with the sleeves cuffed up. The clothes were casual enough to seem like he wasn’t trying, but the crisp lines told me these clothes were freshly pressed, which meant he had taken the time to change.

He looked up as I approached and broke out in a grin that made my breath catch a little. It really ought to be a crime to look that good.

“Riley!” He put his phone away and pushed away from the gazebo wall so he could take both my hands in his and give me a quick kiss on each cheek.

“Liam. Thank you so much for volunteering to be my tour guide again today.”

“I can assure you that there is nothing in the world I would rather be doing.” From the way he was looking at me, I was pretty sure he meant it.

“Great! We better get started; this place is what? About thirty-two acres?”

“Thirty-two point three acres if you want to be exact.” He smiled at me as he offered his arm. I took it and we started walking.

“I like to be exact!”

“I thought we’d start with the royal gardens since they take up most of the estate. You crossed the back lawn to get here and I’m sure you’ve seen the fountain out front. There’s also a wooded area, sort of a nature preserve, near the back and of course, the hedge maze.”

“Of course, the hedge maze, you say as if everyone has one. I can’t wait to see it!” I grinned up at him.

He smiled down at me, “And you will, but the gardens first.”

We strolled through the gardens and Liam told me about each part, the flowers and topiary that were there and the history behind them all. Just for extra measure, I asked about exits and entrances to the grounds, other than the main gate. Just in case.

It took a couple of hours to get through all the garden paths. We even strolled through the wooded area and Liam pointed out the caretakers shed. Something that normally wouldn’t get mentioned in a tour. But he seemed to know I wanted all the details. He was catching on to how my mind worked.

The hedge maze was last.

“And you’re telling me that you know your way around this thing?” I asked him skeptically.

“Absolutely. When we were kids, we use to play maze tag in here.”

“Maze tag?”

“Yeah, the goal was to get to the center without getting tagged.”

“I’ll bet that was fun.”

“It was.” He said, a little wistfully, “Sometimes I miss those carefree days.”

“How hard is it to find the center?” I had a pretty good memory, but I had a feeling that the lay out of the maze was going to be a challenge.

“For those of us that grew up here, not that hard.”

“So that would be you, Leo, Drake and Drake’s sister Savannah?”

“Yes, and Liv.”

“Liv?”

“Yes, Lady Olivia. Her parents died when she was quite young, and she came here to live.”

Right. I had read that in her file. She was on the suspect list because of her parents and her aunt, but it was flimsy. She had been a preschooler when her parents died and had barely seen her aunt since. If I could rule her out, I could focus on more promising suspects.

“So, tell me about Olivia.” I prompted.

“Well, she grew up here with us for the most part. She’s got a prickly exterior, like a cactus, but she’s got a good heart. She genuinely cares about the people under her care. The people of Lythikos love her.”

“And Leo?”

He gave me a sidelong glance, “Who told you?”

“I’m just observant?” I didn’t want to throw Drake under the bus.

Liam’s head tipped back as he laughed, “I appreciate you not wanting to reveal your source, but it had to be Drake.”

I just smiled without answering.

“Never reveal your sources, got it. Yes, Leo and Liv were best friends growing up, then he went away for a while and when he came back, well, they bonded on a different level.” He stopped and gave me a serious look, “Why are you so interested in Liv? You don’t think she-“

“I don’t know, Liam. I can’t rule anyone out, but I’d like to. That’s why I’m asking.”

He nodded in understanding. “I don’t think Liv would ever betray the crown. She’s practically family. And she’s a good person, despite the tough exterior that she likes to project to the world. Plus, she’s crazy about my brother.”

I filed that away. Liam’s opinion did mean something, but often those closest to the perpetrator never saw it coming so there’s that.

“So do you think he’s going to pick her?”

Liam considered the question seriously. “I…don’t know. I think he wants to.”

“So then why wouldn’t he?”

“It’s not just his choice. The council has to approve, so does our father. Many people don’t think she’s…uh, fit to rule.”

“Why not? She’s a duchess from one of Cordonia’s oldest and most respected families. Even in Monterisso, the Nevrakis name commands respect.”

He nodded as he rubbed his bottom lip, “Yes, but I assume you know about her parents?”

I confirmed that I did.

“Right, so there’s that and she can be a bit volatile and, as I said, prickly. Not the best in situations that require a gentle, diplomatic touch.”

“Ah, I see. She’s not duplicitous and two faced enough. She shows her real emotions.”

He barked out a surprised laugh, “I mean….I wouldn’t have put it like that but….yeah.”

“Good to know.” That trait should make her easy to read.

We walked the maze several times as I tried to get the layout memorized. Finally, I decided that I had it, so I stopped walking and turned to Liam and said, “Hey Liam.”

He stopped walking and turned to face me, “Yes?”

I slapped him on the chest and yelled, “Tag, you’re it!” and took off at a dead run for what I was pretty sure was the center of the maze. I almost made it too, but he had home field advantage.

The center of the maze was in sight when he caught me. He reached for me, but I can dodge and weave with the best of them. On the second try, his arms found me. I tried to leap up and out of his reach but instead I tripped, and we went tumbling to the ground together.

We landed, breathless and laughing, tangled up around each other. Liam was on top, looking down at me. I can’t say that I was sad about it.

“Are you ok?” He asked.

“I’m fine.” I laughed, “That was a damn good tackle!”

He laughed in response then his gaze grew more serious.

“What?” I asked him. We should probably have gotten up, but I was enjoying the feel of his body on top of mine.

“This feels very familiar.” He said.

My mind drifted back to our night in New York, and I repeated the same line I had used when he tackled me then, “Well you caught me, what are you going to do about it, huh?”

His pupils dilated in response to the memory. Because everything that had come after that was straight fire. He leaned down and captured my lips in his, it was tender at first but quickly built in intensity, becoming deeper, harder, more urgent. Well, I suppose there was about five months of worth of longing and frustration in there since by all accounts he had spent that time focused on trying to find me again.

His mouth moved from mine to trail hot kisses up along my jawline, down my neck to my shoulder and lower. He gently kissed the skin that was showing above the neckline of my t-shirt as one hand went up to cup my breast. I sank my hands into his hair, it was as lush and thick as I remembered. I arched my body up into his, earning a low moan from him.

He brought his head back up to stare into my eyes with his tortured ones, “Fuck, Riley, you have no idea what you do to me. You’re like fire in my veins and I don’t know how to get you out, or if I even want to.”

“I might have an inkling.” I informed him, “But we really shouldn’t be doing this out here, anyone could come around the corner and catch us, then my cover is blown.”

“Right.” He said with a fair amount of regret as he stood up then reached back to offer me his hand. I took it and pulled myself upright.

“You know it’s almost dinner time.” I told him by way of changing the subject.

“Will you be attending the formal dinner with the other suitors then?” He asked.

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

“Well, yesterday’s dinner was informal and only some of the suitors were here. I was able to fly under the radar. Today, everyone is here, and a formal dinner ensures everyone knowing who I am. I want my introduction at the ball to make a splash and to do that, I need the element of surprise.”

“But you have to eat.” He objected.

“I’ll have dinner sent up to my room.” I told him.

A grin spread across his face, “I have a better idea.”

“What?”

“Have dinner with me.” He pulled me into his arms and started dropping kisses all along my neck while I giggled and pushed him away.

“But we can’t be seen-“

“Privately. In my quarters.” He was dead serious. He had stopped trying to kiss me but held both my hands firmly in his as he watched my face, waiting for an answer.

I shook my head, “I can’t be seen going-“

“You won’t.” He assured me. “I’ll have our route cleared so no one sees you. I can do that, I’m a prince.”

He kept making me laugh, “Abusing your power huh?” I teased.

“To get some alone time with you? Hell yeah. And I’d do it again, too. So, is that a yes?” He pulled out his phone and waited for my answer. He looked so goddamned hopeful. I’m pretty sure he was holding his breath.

I mean, I really didn’t need to anything else before the ball other than eat and get ready. So why the hell not? I nodded, “Ok.”

“Yes!” He exclaimed as he sent off a quick text, “There’s a side entrance that’s never used by the public. I think we can make it back across the lawn and gardens without drawing too much notice. Once we’re inside, our route will be cleared.”

“Ok, but don’t walk too close to me just in case. And we’ll go inside a few minutes apart, just to be sure.” No one even knew who I was yet, and the grounds were pretty deserted, everyone was inside getting ready for dinner, so I wasn’t overly worried about being spotted by anyone. And if we were? I got lost and a stray prince happened to find me and offered to show me the way back to the palace. Innocent.

“Whatever you want, you’re the boss.” He gave me a mock salute.

“Damn straight!” I told him.

We made it to the entrance with no issues and true to his word, we encountered no one as he led me through the palace to his rooms.

He pulled out his phone as we entered the sitting room in his private suite. “I’ll call down to the kitchen and-“

“Liam.”

He turned around to face me, “What?”

I stepped into him and reached up, taking the phone out of his hand and tossing it into a nearby chair. “Dinner can wait.”

“But aren’t you hungry?” Oh, you sweet, summer child, I thought to myself. It really was cute how clueless he could be sometimes.

I gave him a seductive smile as I gathered two handfuls of his shirt into my fists and tugged him closer, “Ravenous.”

“Oh!” His eyes widened as understanding dawned on him.

I locked eyes with him, pulled my t-shirt over my head and flung it to the side. I put a finger in my mouth, sucked on the tip then drew it out to run it tantalizingly down my chin, neck and chest to the valley between my breasts. As he watched me, mouth agape, I slid my hand over to rub across my own breast. I dropped my voice to a low and sultry rasp as I told him, “I’m going to need you to remove some of those clothes before I start without you.”

“Oh shit.” He breathed softly then blinked and sprang into action. I have literally never seen a man remove a shirt that quickly.

“Liam, wait!”

He froze, hands at his belt buckle. “What?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to admire the view for a moment.” I ran my eyes up all over him, taking in the chiseled chest, the washboard abs, the muscular arms. I mean damn. “Ok, continue.”

He lifted a leg to remove a shoe and I smirked as I told him, “Don’t fall over this time.”

He pulled off both shoes along with the socks then placed both feet firmly on the ground. “I’m not drunk this time.”

“I guess that’s a plus.” I told him as I moved closer so I could help him with the pants. I pushed his hands out of the way so I could unbutton them myself then I slid the zipper down while I held eye contact. I hooked my fingers in the waistband and pushed them down. My tongue darted out to lick my lips.

His eyes closed as a sigh escaped him, then he was kicking out his pants and boxer shorts and wrapping his arms around my waist. He pulled my body flush against his and his hands and mouth started trailing everywhere. He managed to unfasten and pull my bra off then he was sucking a nipple into his mouth to tease at it as his tongue circled and caressed it. His hands slid down my body then ghosted up my thighs and around to squeeze my ass.

I let my head fall back as my body arched into him. “Oh god, yes, keep doing all that.” I told him.

I felt things low in my body coil and tighten as I ground myself into him. He moaned loudly in response. His fingers rubbed against the thin fabric of my panties, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through me. He slipped a finger around the fabric and inside me. I dug my nails into his shoulders in response.

“Maybe you should lose the rest of your clothes too.” He whispered as he unzipped my skirt. It fell to the floor, pooling around my feet. I slid my panties down my body and stepped out of them, the skirt and my shoes as I ran my tongue along the shell of his ear, “Now what?”

“Maybe we should take this to the bedroom.” He murmured as his hands tangled in my hair.

I wrapped my arms and legs around him and brought my mouth to his. He circled his arms around me and carried me into the bedroom without breaking the kiss. We dropped onto the bed together, still coiled around each other.

“I want to taste you so bad.” he groaned into my ear.

“I’m not stopping you.” I whispered back.

“I’ve been dreaming about this for months.” His voice vibrated against my skin as his lips continued to move across my body.

I sank my hands into his hair as his body slid down mine until he was positioned between my legs. My legs fell open to give him access. His tongue, rough and warm, glided through my folds, up and down, sending surges of pleasure through my body with every stroke. His hands gripped the insides of my thighs as he buried his face between them, lapping at my center. My hips lifted off the bed, pushing against the hot wetness of his mouth. I moved my hips in synch with him as I tugged at his hair, pulling him closer.

His tongue found my throbbing, slick pebble and flicked against it harder and faster. My body quivered under his touch. I twisted and squirmed and bucked my hips up again and again as his tongue glided and danced at my core. Then his entire mouth came down to envelope me as he pulled, sucked and tugged while continuing to swirl his tongue over and around my sweet spot.

My fingers tightened in his hair, and I screamed out my pleasure as waves of ecstasy burst over me and currents of electricity coursed through my body. He continued to lick me, easing off little by little as he worked me through the orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re insanely good with your tongue!” I told him.

“Glad you think so.” He grinned at me as he climbed back up my body, “You taste amazing, even better than I imagined.”

“I need more.” I told him as I wrapped my legs around him and flipped us over, so I was on top. I lowered myself onto him, and started sliding myself up and down his cock. My clit was still throbbing, I rocked back and forth on top of him, rubbing it against his pelvis until stars swam in front of my eyes again. “Fuck!” I breathed out.

“Riley!” Liam’s hands grasped my hips and moved me up and down as he thrust up into me.

I pulled myself up then paused before lowering myself halfway back down, then slowly slid myself up and paused again. His fingers dug into my hips deeper as he strained up toward me, “Fuck, Riley, please…”

“Be still, Liam, no moving, no touching.” I ordered and he complied, but with visible effort. His hands dropped from my hips to dig at the mattress and tangle fistfuls of sheet in them. His head pushed back into the bed as tortured gasps and moans spilled out of him. I leaned forward and brought my mouth to his ear to whisper provocatively, “That’s a good boy. Just like that. Wait for it.”

I moved almost imperceptibly on top of him, slowly pushing him closer and closer to the edge without allowing him the release he so desperately needed. I moved deliberately, bringing him right to the edge then easing him back, over and over again until his entire body was trembling beneath me.

When his breath was coming in short, ragged gasps and his body was covered in sweat, I purred, “You’ve been a very good boy. You can move now. Touch me, Liam.”

His hands flew to my breasts then down to my hips as I started to ride him harder and faster, taking him all the way in on the down thrust. He pushed up into me again and again as I slammed myself down onto him, nails scraping across his chest. I pinched at a nipple, and he exploded inside me with a guttural cry. With the sensation of his dick pulsing inside me, I rocked against him and felt myself fall apart again.

I collapsed on top him then rolled off him to cuddle at his side. His arms held me there tightly as his breathing returned to normal.

“Jesus fucking christ, Riley. I didn’t think it was possible for it to be better than it was in New York, but you just proved me wrong.”

“You weren’t bad yourself.” I drew a line down his neck with my tongue then closed my lips over the spot and sucked at it. I was rewarded with a shiver. When I drew away, I told him, “You can order food now.”

I went to the bathroom to clean up while he ordered dinner. When I got back, he pulled me back into the bed and spread kisses all over me. I’m not kidding, he kissed my head, my shoulders, my back, my legs, this man kissed the inside of the bend of my knee. It tickled, but I liked it.

“Liam, we have to get dressed! Dinner will be here soon.” I scolded him gently.

He heaved a long-suffering sigh and pouted, “Do we have to get dressed?”

Goddamned if that pout wasn’t just about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. How? It was a pout!

“Oh, you are extremely tempting, but yes, we have to.” I shook my head. He was being silly but in an endearing kind of way.

“Fine.” His shoulders slumped in a purposely exaggerated display of disappointment. His face lit up when I laughed.

I shook my head and told him to get up and help me find my clothes. We retraced our steps picking up items of clothing until we were both fully dressed again. By then, dinner had arrived. We chatted and laughed as we ate, he was surprisingly easy to talk to. But all good things must come to an end eventually and I had a ball to get ready for.

“Ok.” I told him as I stood, “Time for me to go.”

He was instantly on his feet as well, “I’ll walk you back.”

“Ok.” I agreed, as I made my way across the room to the door. “But you guys should really give me a code or a key card or something so that I can get in and out of all the secret passageways.”

“I’ll talk to Leo.” He told me as he pulled me into his arms again. He brushed his lips across mine then dipped his head to nip and suck at my neck.

I shivered at the sensation, but I still pushed him away, “No, really, I have to go get ready for the ball.”

“Let’s be late.” He breathed into my ear, earning another shiver from me.

“You know I can’t do that; I have a whole entrance to make, spies to catch, a court to fool into thinking Leo and I are a thing.”

“That last thing is my least favorite part.” He told me as he nipped at an earlobe.

“Liam, stop.” I giggled as I pulled the door open and turned to give him a playful push.

He reached for me as I stepped backwards into the hallway and bumped right into someone. A pair of strong arms reached out to keep me from falling and I spun around to look up into Drake’s face. “Brooks! What are you-“ The words died on his lips as his eyes went behind me. He let go of me and took a step back.

Liam stumbled into me and brought his head down to bite at the soft flesh of my neck, before noticing that we weren’t alone. He pulled back quickly, and his head spun around to take in Drake and Leo standing in the hallway outside his room.

Leo was looking back and forth between us in confusion, “What’s going on here? Agent Brooks? I thought-“ his eyes went to Drake then back to Liam then to me again.

Liam shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “Oh, ah…remember me telling you about the woman I met in New York? Brooklyn?”

“Yeah,” Leo snorted, “You haven’t shut up about it since.”

I stifled a giggle. Damn, I guess I really did make an impression.

“Well, this is her. Riley is Brooklyn.”

“What?” Leo blinked then his face cleared, “Oh! I get it! Mystery woman who wouldn’t tell you her real name or where she lived turns out to be a spy, that…that actually tracks bro! But wait….” He looked back to Drake again then an amused grin broke out, “So…. You both….”

No one had to answer, he could read it on their faces. Drake’s jaw was tight as he tried not to betray any emotion and Liam was blushing furiously as he studiously surveyed the floor.

Leo threw his head back and laughed uproariously, “This is the greatest thing that’s ever happened!”

“Fuck you Rys.” Drake said.

“Oh, come on Walker! You have to admit-“

“Shut the fuck up, Leo.” He snapped.

Leo turned to me, “You have no idea how competitive these two are. When we were kids, they competed over everything! Including girls until, what was her name? The one whose parents had to get involved?”

“What?” I laughed, “I need to hear this story!”

“You really don’t!” Liam looked alarmed.

“No, you do not!” Drake blurted out at the same time.

“Good to see you two agreeing on something.” I turned back to Leo, “Spill!”

“The rivalry just got ridiculous. Liam hired a skywriter, a goddamn skywriter! And Drake-“ Leo had to catch his breath and get his laughter under control before continuing, “Drake released an entire heard of goats in her house!”

“What?” I turned to Drake in astonishment.

“She liked goats! She told me she thought they were cute, and she always wanted one!” He said in his defense.

Leo kept going, “Her parents were not amused! Neither was Constantine when Drake painted her name on the top of one of the old guard towers! I still don’t know how the hell he even got up there!”

Drake snorted, “At least I didn’t try to serenade her at three o’clock in the fucking morning.”

Liam’s head shot up, “Hey! I was fourteen!”

“Her father chased him off their property with a saber!” Tears were running down Leo’s face.

“Oh my god! This is gold! So, what happened?” I asked.

“Her parents threatened to file restraining orders against both of them and she ended up dating fucking Maxwell Beaumont for six months!”

“And we got grounded, for like, forever!” Liam supplied.

“I had to clean that paint off the tower and that was a lot harder than putting it up there had been.” Drake grumbled, then he looked at Liam and asked, “Remember when you ate that ghost pepper because I dared you to in front of her?”

Liam blanched a little, “It took me three days to recover from that! But you ate like a pound of margarine to impress her, so I’d say we’re even.”

I blinked, “What?”

Drake shrugged, “She said no one could eat an entire container of margarine with a spoon. So I did.”

“And you thought that would impress her, why?”

He shook his head, “I….have no idea….I was a stupid teenage boy.”

“As opposed to now,” Leo slapped him on the back, “when you’re a stupid teenage like man child.”

“The point is,” Drake turned to Liam, “After that, we agreed that we’d never let a girl come between us again.”

“We were fourteen.” Liam reminded him, “This is different.”

“Of course, it is! But I thought we agreed-“

“I agreed to nothing.”

“But we discussed-“

“Yes, and I heard everything you said. But I never agreed to anything.”

Drake pressed his lips into a tight line and nodded. “You did that on purpose.”

“Did what?” Liam asked with feigned innocence. Ohhhh, he used underhanded tactics to try and keep Drake away from me? I was impressed. All’s fair in love and war, and all that.

“Made me think that- you know what? Never mind. We’re on the same page now.” Drake crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave Liam a steady look.

Liam’s smile faltered a little at that declaration as his eyes darted from Drake to me then back again.

Leo was laughing again.

I shook my head. I didn’t have time for a pissing contest. “Ok boys, as fun as this has been, I have a ball to get ready for. Ta!”

“Wait! I was going to walk you back to your room, remember?” Liam headed my direction, but Leo pulled him back.

“Your presence has been requested, no, ordered, by our father. He and Regina would like final approval on our attire for the evening and the royal tailors are already set up in the formal sitting room at the end of the hallway.”

“Yeah, that’s why we were outside your room, Li. We were sent to retrieve you, since you were ignoring your calls.” Drake’s eyes flicked to me then he gave Liam a smug smile and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she makes it back to her room safely.”

Liam’s face fell, “But-“

“It’s fine, Liam.” I stepped forward, placed my hands on his chest and brushed my lips across his cheek, “I’ll see you at the ball in an hour. I promise to save a dance for you.”

Leo began to pull Liam down the hallway. He was still looking back at me when Drake circled an arm around my waist then used the other one to gesture down the hallway in the opposite direction, “Shall we?”

Once again, Drake and I made the trek through the secret passageways back to my room. “I think I can find my own way at this point.” I told him as we arrived at the panel that opened into my room.

“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to spend a few minutes with you.”

“Do you need an excuse?” I asked him.

“I don’t know. Do I?” He gave me that searching look again. I still didn’t know what, exactly, he was looking for.

“You do not. I already told you, I like you.”

“But you also wanted to slow things down.”

“As long as you understand that none of this is leading to a relationship and that I’ll be out of here in a few months, then we’re good. Nothing wrong with having fun while I’m here.” I told him.

His eyes ran across my face for a moment then he stepped back and folded his arms across his chest. “I’d like to apologize for last night. I thought that- I mean I was-“ He sighed as he raked a hand through his hair, “hell, it doesn’t matter. I was an idiot and I’d like to make it up to you.”

I cocked my head to the side in curiosity, “How?”

“I have an idea.” He gave me a cryptic smile, “I know you have work to do, but there’s not another official event for several days until the Derby, so if you could spare a few hours tomorrow afternoon, I have something in mind that I think you’ll like.”

I raised my eyebrows, “What?”

“Oh, you’ll have to come with me to find out.” He smirked at me, “I’ll come to your room after lunch tomorrow, if that’s ok.”

“Looking forward to it, Captain.” I told him as I slipped into my room and closed the panel.

#savage love #agent riley brooks #drake walker #liam rys #angelasscribbles #drake x mc #liam x mc #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #captain drake walker #choices #trr #the royal romance fanfic #the royal romance #choices stories you play

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superhero--imagines · 3 years

Text

Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info

Part 2 Here!/ Part 3 Here! / Playlist Here!

* Sorry guys but this mans been living in my head rent free

* So the first time you see Satoru it’s with those black specs he likes to wear and you get a glance at those GORGEOUS eyes

* He meets your eyes for a second before looking away, it’s the briefest of interactions

* But your heart is racing and you can feel the familiar heat of attraction starting to lap at your face

* ‘He looks just like a prince’ you think

* You find out pretty fast the ‘prince’ similarities stop at appearance

* “Ah it’s not my fault you’re so weak~” You hear him say with the princely smile as he teases Utahime

* It looks like he’s held something so high she can’t reach it

* “Try your best, if you drink plenty of milk I’m sure you’ll be tall enough one day~” he says before laughing with that same princely face

* “You shouldn’t pick on those that are weaker than you” Geto intervenes, somehow making the entire situation worse

* You watch as Gojo laughs

* You’re starting to think he might be the real curse you need to exorcise

* You continue watching him as Utahime tries to kick him in the crotch

* “You silly girl, did you forget there’s an infinity between us?” Cue Gojo’s “A-hahahahaha” laugh

* Yeah, he’s definitely a demon

* You keep your distance, Gojo’s beautiful and all, but you’re not dumb, you’ve heard about the Satoru clan.

* “Hey Geto-Kun, who do you think would win in a fight me or a lion?”

* Besides that guy is way too reckless, you’d rather not get all mixed up in that if you can help it

* You watch as Satoru takes his shirt off, his well defined chest glistening

* Still, you’re grateful for the show

* Little do you know the famous Gojo Satoru has taken note of you as well

* Naturally given his ability he notices everyone, but he especially takes note of you

* It’s not because you stand out, quite the opposite

* You blend into the background easily, supporting others when needed

* But not to the degree where you unable to defend yourself, or you’re sacrificing your own life for someone else

* He grins

* Looks like he found something interesting

* You’re at the vending machine eyes racking over the drink selection

* But there’s another thirst quenching sight right next to you, their hand resting on the vending machine, that princely smile aimed right at you-

* “So what do you say?” Satoru asks, and you start to wonder if that princely smile seems just a bit wolfish “Do you want to be my lover?”

* You’re kind of annoyed

* What an impetuous question, you can count on one hand how many times you’ve spoken to each other, and you only need both hands to count the words said in each of those encounters

* “No”

* You turn your attention back to your drink choices, it’s pleasant weather so you don’t want anything hot.

* Anything carbonated is out of the-

* Gojo moves closer, peering into your face with that grin

* Ugh does he have to stand so close

* “Why ‘no’? I know you think I’m attractive”

* “I also think you’re a womanizer with a god complex”

* And really why shouldn’t he be?

* He’s probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life, not to add the sheer power he contains in that body of his

* But just as he has the right to be a womanizer with a god complex, you have the right not to take part in that narrative

* He backs away, leaning back against the wall

* So he’s not going to deny it

* Well, at least he’s somewhat self aware

* Those clear blue eyes catch yours again, and you have to fight against every human instinct from showing any human reaction

* You turn back to the vending machine making your selection when a smile lilts onto his mouth

* “Friends then”

* “Just colleagues” you reply, grabbing your drink

* But as you walk by you push a canned beverage into his chest.

* It’s a can of green tea

* It’s his favorite drink

* He looks to you seeing a bottle glinting in your hand

* So you didn’t sacrifice your own thirst, but you also didn’t ignore his needs

* He feels that same wolffish grin curl onto his mouth

* “What an entertaining person”

* After that if you’re anywhere within a 50 feet radius of him he’ll go out of his way to get your attention

* “Oh wow, looking especially radiant this morning (Y/N/N)” he’ll say with a playful seductive wink

* When you don’t respond he tries annoying you instead

* “Ah you can’t reach that? Here let me-” and then he’ll proceed to hold it even further out of your reach

* He’s expecting you to jump up and down, or at least give some sort of response but you just walk away

* Well that wasn’t what he expected

* He feels that grin spread across his face again

* Very interesting

* His attraction to you is pretty shallow

* He’s interested you because you’re entertaining

* And you’re entertaining because you aren’t interested

* Which only makes him that much more interested in you

* Its a paradox

* You watch him flounder around, annoying Utahime for a giggle

* Well it doesn’t matter anyway, you know how he is, he’ll get bored soon enough and lose all interest in you

* He’s not the strongest {f*ckboy} for nothing

* You see him turn to meet your gaze, offering a boyish smile and a wink

* You make sure not to give any reaction, turning to listen to something Shoko is telling you

* You hope he can’t sense the twinge of heat you feel on your face

* You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find the attention a little flattering

* I think for the most part you’re right, Satoru is mostly playing around-

* At least at first.

* You’re just something new and fun no one knows about, and wildly entertaining since you never respond the way he thinks you will

* You’re kind, but not at the expense of yourself, and he likes that

* Besides you’ve got this quite sort of consideration for others-

* It’s not flashy, it’s so subtle most people hardly notice

* It’s in the way you bring an extra snack for Utahime when she’s running herself ragged training

* “They were having a two for one special”

* Or the way you’ll get your teacher a plushie you saw at a shop at the station because you know he needs more

* “I just thought it was cute, but I haven’t got any room for another one”

* You’re quiet, someone who hears things and she’s things, but never says anything about them

* A wallflower

* But you’re not weak

* There’s something about those two things put together in the same person that entertains him to no end. Like a paradox or a puzzle he can’t seem to solve no matter how hard he tries

* Satoru’s had at least a hundred lovers, and a great many of them had provided him with their own brand of kindness and consideration

* But he’s never felt something as warm as when he see’s a lunch box in his dorm after he hobbles back from a mission that lasted a little longer than expected

* He peers at the note attached, it’s not even signed but he knows it’s from you

* “I know you think you’re god or whatever, but even gods have to eat”

* He doesn’t know why, but he’s overcome with the urge to cry

* He gulps hard- it’s not like this a lunch you made by hand or anything, it’s just something from the convenience store

* And it’s not like this note is particularly affectionate or special either, he’s gotten entire love letters from his previous lovers

* So he’s not sure why he saves your note, placing it behind a picture frame where only he’ll know it is , or why he thinks that convenience store lunchbox is the most delicious thing he’s ever had

* Even though he knows he cares about you, and that he’s grown quite fond of you -

* I don’t think it clicks for him

* And part of that is because well, he’s Gojo Satoru

* He collects lovers like some people collect photographs or memories

* They serve their purpose, and he lets himself be entertained by pretending all the feelings are real, and then he moves on to the next one

* It’s just what he’s used to

* And this whole paradox you two have going on could go on for a few years until something finally shifts

* He went a little too far with one his half-flirting-half-tormenting pranks

* And for the first time you give him a reaction, it’s only for a second, but annoyance and anger mar you face

* And then just like that, it’s gone and you turn and walk off in the other direction

* Sh*t.

* He went too far didn’t he?

* It should be fine right? You’re not too mad at him right? You’ll get over it-

* Right?

* But for the next few days you don’t speak to him, and you don’t make eye contact

* It bothers him more than it should

* Normally he would be annoyed that his toy would have the gall to blatantly ignore him like this-

* But this is different than that.

* He’s-

* He’s feeling regret

* He shouldn’t have acted that way to you, maybe if he had just done something differently, or said something differently-

* It’s not like the way things were between you two was ideal or anything,

* But at least then you would at least speak to him

* ... and every once in while he would get to see you smile

* It’s never at him, it’s mostly when you’re with Shoko or Utahime

* Occasionally when you’re with Nanami or Geto, who you’ve been talking to more recently

* He’s pretty sure you three are talking about him, just one day away from forming a “down with Gojo Satoru” club

* Still that smile when you laugh-

* The way you look so carefree and young and so full of life is worth all the slander in the world to him

* He needs to see that smile, to know something that wholesome and kind exists somewhere in this cruel world

* Satoru’s thinking about how to go about apologizing to you

* He’s caught between buying you a Lamborghini or buying you a special grade tool when he ends up running into you

* “Ah, could you help me with something?”

* He would quite literally give you the clothes on his back right now if you asked

* You stand up on a a chair holding a glass of water

* “Apparently this is supposed to help with concentration or something” You say pressing the glass full of water to the ceiling

* “Can you hold this broom?” You ask and Satoru nods, holding the broom handle steady as you make sure it’s pushed against the glass holding it steady

* You nod approvingly down at him

* The rest happens pretty fast, you’re off the chair, carrying it away

* “The broom is actually a special grade tool, so cursed energy won’t work on it”

* You grin

* “Have fun figuring how to get out of that Baka Prince!” You say with a laugh

* And Satoru is dumbfounded

* But not because you just pranked him into a holding up a glass of water with a broom

* But because as you were rushing away, you showed him your teasing grin

* It’s the first time you smiled at him

* And as he looks up at the glass of water, a smile slowly spreads across his face

* It’s not the wolffish smile he usually has when he’s around you, or the princely smile he uses when he’s trying to get something

* It’s a genuine smile

* Ah, so that’s it

* He’s fallen in love with you

* If you’re not the one entertaining him, then he’s just not interested

* Ah geez

* He was so focused on trying to get you to fall in love with him that he really didn’t see this coming

* Well he’ll have to start being serious about pursuing you now-

* Though for you to pull off something like this on him tells him you’re his ideal match without a doubt

* A wallflower with a mischievous streak, he likes that.

* He scratches his head with his free hand

* “I wonder how I’m supposed to get out of this?” He muses looking up at the glass full of water

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #satoru gojō x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru Gojo imagine #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #Gojo satoru imagine #Gojo satoru headcanons #satoru Gojo headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #superhero—imagines

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leviathanswingman · 3 years

Text

cavity and sweet tooth; DiaLuci oneshot

“Lucifer, can you come here for a moment?”

Lucifer, sitting by the fireside with his head bowed ever so slightly, bangs softly brushing against his cheeks, lifted his head from the paperwork he had been working on for hours and hours with no end in sight.

He turned his head towards the source of commotion, barely able to suppress a sigh as he took note of Diavolo sitting on the ground of the house of lamentation’s music room, cross legged and soft-spined, evidently lost in conversation with none other than Lucifer’s antisocial little brother Leviathan.

Seeing them chatting as if they were life-long friends, Lucifer couldn’t help but suppress a sigh he could feel rising from the depths of his soul. With Diavolo’s devil-may-care personality, fraternizations of this sort rarely ever worked out in his favor.

After all, the demon prince had originally paid the house of lamentation a surprise visit to discuss several work-related issues that had come up on short notice . To no-one’s surprise however, that had quickly turned into Lucifer doing the actual work while Diavolo was fooling around, attempting to lure Levi into another semi-deep conversation.

“Yes?” Lucifer asked, admittedly curious to find out what exactly those two had been going on about. Leviathan was extremely reclusive by nature, so for someone to catch his attention, the topic of conversation must have been quite captivating.

He pushed up the glasses that had been sliding down his nose inch by inch, readjusting them appropriately.

Diavolo mustered him and let out a sigh. “Come here, just for a second!” When there was barely any reaction coming, he shook his head impatiently and beckoned Lucifer over. “Do I have to implore you? I promise it won't take long. I want to try something out Leviathan here mentioned-”

“Right, right.” Through years and years spent as Diavolo’s friend and right hand man, Lucifer had learned that when confronted with another one of Diavolo’s outlandish requests, indulging him before inevitably shutting him down was the easiest way to go.

He sighed once, but put aside his paperwork regardless and got up from his chair. Of course he knew this foretold nothing good. Still, it was Diavolo who was asking. And although the man often failed to remain professional, determined to break down all of Lucifer’s carefully built up walls, Lucifer knew he could trust him. Even in moments like these when Diavolo was really hellbent on testing his patience.

He walked over to Diavolo and Leviathan, stopping inches away from them and crossed his arms. “So, what's all of this about?”

Diavolo looked up to him and threw him a displeased look. “Lucifer,” he started and before Lucifer could so much as answer, Diavolo had already closed his fingers around Lucifer's wrist, giving it one big tug.

Taken off guard by Diavolo's sudden boldness, Lucifer let himself be pulled down to the ground with nothing but a badly hidden stumble.

Levi, who had been lounging on a couch behind Diavolo let out a stifled laugh before Lucifer caught his eye and gave him a proper glare, shutting him up for good.

“Diavolo!”

The demon prince let out a low chuckle as he watched Lucifer readjust his position. As soon as he was sitting semi-comfortably in front of him, Diavolo grabbed Lucifer’s forearms and lifted them

“I hope I didn't startle you now, did I?” he said with a low rumble to his voice, his eyes focusing in on Lucifer's hands which were hidden by his lavish black gloves. “Would you take these off for a second?”

Lucifer's eyebrows knit together in confusion. He lifted his eyes to look at Diavolo, whose attention seemed to be strictly focused on Lucifer's hands.

“I suppose,” he answered, yet before he could do as much as lift a finger, Diavolo was already busying himself pushing up Lucifer’s sleeve, hooking his index finger in-between smooth fabric and even smoother skin, successfully freeing Lucifer's left hand.

“There we go!”

“Remind me as to why we're doing this again?”

Diavolo scooted a little bit closer, now facing Lucifer as he took hold of his right gloved hand. “No need to look that grim. As I said, I was just wondering about something Leviathan has brought up ever so passionately. You'll be free to finish your work in no time.”

A small scowl crept up on Lucifer's face as he turned his head towards his little brother. “Levi, if this is anything but appropriate I will make sure to turn you into-”

Before he could finish his sentence Leviathan had already taken hold of his belongings and bolted out of the room. To be quite honest, Lucifer couldn't remember the last time he had seen him run quite as fast.

Lucifer decided to put his focus back on Diavolo just as he felt one of his fingers glide along his skin before disappearing in the gap between glove and hand, successfully pulling off the second glove as well.

For a moment Diavolo ogled Lucifer’s hands, hands that were seen covered way more often than bare, before raising his hands as if to give a high five.

“Mirror my movements,” he said with a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his admittedly pretty eyes.

Lucifer stared at his raised palms for a moment or two until Diavolo started to get tired of waiting and motioned towards Lucifer with a quick circular motion of hand.

“Hold them up like this,” he said, putting both his hands back up at chest height.

“Diavolo, I really don't see the point in any of this,” Lucifer protested, but followed suit anyway. He mirrored Diavolo's motions, throwing him a quizzical look from behind their hands while doing so.

Diavolo threw him a blinding smile as he connected their hands palm to palm, gently but confidently, making sure that they were lined up perfectly at the bottom.

The tips of Lucifer's fingers, softly pressed against Diavolo's digits, were tingling curiously under the gentle feeling of skin against skin.

It wasn't that Lucifer was touch-starved, no, he was simply not used to these slow, soft, almost tentative touches; especially coming from Diavolo.

“Well, won't you look at that!”

“What specifically am I supposed to look at now? This is ridiculous. I still have work to do so-” he started, but before he could stand up again and return to his stack of papers Diavolo pushed his hands against Lucifer's perceptibly harder.

“Don't be like that, just look!!”

Lucifer pushed back out of reflex.

His eyes dropped down to their hands and, surprised by the unexpected sight, Lucifer felt something click in the back of his brain.

Graceful, slender hands stood in contrast to slightly bigger, stronger looking ones. For once, he did not push back in retaliation, but mustered their joined hands instead.

The sight made him feel almost nostalgic. Hands, once curled to uncertain fists, were now joined in mutual obedience and respect. It was a strange and perhaps vulnerable thing to take note of. He shook his head, face to face with his own mushy thoughts.

Still, instead of pulling away as his instincts were telling him to, Lucifer pushed back as Diavolo also considered their hands for a moment, letting out a rumbling laugh before dropping his fingers a bit to fully slide them between Lucifer’s.

“Even your hands are positively stunning, Lucifer. Pray tell, how do you manage any of it? Stunning from head to toe,” he practically mumbled, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, revealing the slightest hint of dimples on his cheeks.

Lucifer, unsure of what to do with his hands as he pretended to not have heard any of Diavolo’s flattering mumblings, furrowed his brows as he quickly blew a stray strand of hair out of his eyes.

“There you go buttering me up again like that. What even is the use of all of this?” Experimentally, he spread his fingers a little bit further apart and threw Diavolo a quick glance from under his lashes. Finally, he grew tired of keeping his fingers upright and dropped them unceremoniously, decidedly ignoring the fact that theoretically, if you were being really strict, he was holding hands with Diavolo right now. He forced himself not to think about it beyond measure.

“Permission to compliment?” Diavolo asked belatedly, a mixture of joy and mischief painting his features delightfully carefree.

“Absolutely not.”

They were adults, and additionally to that, two of the most respected demons all across the devildom. Them holding hands like frivolous adolescents would be ridiculous, preposterous even. If any of his brothers were to see him like this, they’d certainly laugh like the hyenas they were.

Certainly, Lucifer wasn't about to get embarrassed by him and Diavolo holding hands. Except for the fact that without any doubt, he was indeed feeling undeniably embarrassed.

He cleared his throat. “So, has inspiration finally struck hard enough for you to tell me what this is all about? If I recall correctly you mentioned this having been caused by another one of Levi's nonsensical ramblings?”

Diavolo’s eyes were still trained on their joined hands. He ran his thumb across the back of Lucifer’s hand and let his middle finger rub along Lucifer’s protruding knuckles. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, unaware of the redness that was unmistakably dusting his friend’s neck and ears.

Lucifer, ever so aware of his body’s own reactions, suppressed them with sheer dedication and efficiency before his tired mind could come up with any more funny ideas.

He cleared his throat and forced his attention back to their previous topic of conversation, away from Diavolo’s beautiful -of course solely objectively speaking- fingers rubbing soothing circles into the back of his hands.

“So what sort of nonsense was Levi trying to convince you of?” he tried again. And in spite of himself, Lucifer caught himself suppressing a sigh accompanied by a shudder as Diavolo ran his thumb over smooth skin, turning it into a huff before the traitorous sound had even so much as a sliver of a chance of slipping past closed lips

Although he was known all across the lands for his professionalism, that didn’t mean he was unresponsive to outward stimuli. And no matter how easily exasperated he was by Diavolo’s lack of work morale, Lucifer had grown somewhat fond of the future demon king. Not that he would ever be caught dead admitting to such a foolish thing out loud.

“Oh, nothing much. He just mentioned it being a ‘sacred trope’, i think that’s how he put it, therefore I couldn’t help but feel tempted to try it out myself! So what do you think, Lucifer?”

Lucifer averted his eyes and successfully crushed the overwhelming feeling of sheer mortification daring to overtake his body.

Of course, Diavolo had been swayed by Leviathan’s absurd ramblings, overtaken by a morbid sort of curiosity he often liked to display as a born-to-be isolated from most of society. There was nothing more to it than that.

Lucifer untangled his fingers from Diavolo’s, standing up abruptly.

“This is not only a waste of my time, but also yours. We should get back to work now. There’s no reason to bother with this any longer.” Without any hesitation, he turned back around to the abandoned stack of paperwork sitting lonely by the fireside. He took a third of the work off the pile, placed a pen on top of it and pushed it into Diavolo’s lap, who blinked at him sheepishly for a moment. Diavolo then threw him one last look, which was glaringly obvious a pout, and let out one big, dramatic sigh. “You are incorrigible Lucifer, has anyone ever told you that?”

Lucifer allowed himself one last look at Diavolo’s almost cartoonish sulking expression before he averted his gaze from the playful twinkle in Diavolo’s eyes down to the way the fabric of his pants was stretching under the promise of girthy thighs and delicate skin, willing himself to come back to his senses before it was too late and he had officially lost all common sense. “Get back to work, Diavolo. You know I’m a busy man and neither of us have all day.”

He threw the demon prince one last stimulated look, calmed his heart, picked up his pen and started writing.

#my writing #obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #dialuci #diavolo x lucifer #lucifer x diavolo #fanfic #oneshot #hand holding #fluff #i finally felt satisfied with this #been sitting on it for months!!#i actually posted this yesterday already but felt really insecure and deleted it again #won't do that now tho bc i checked it again and changed some minor details and now i feel good about what i came up with :)

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emeraldiis · 3 years

Text

Mirrorball // I

A/N: there will be a part two!! dont worry!!

AO3 Link

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Reader hides her insecurity under a guise of unwavering happiness, but Loki ends up finding out the truth. Meanwhile, Loki struggles with feeling worthy of love.

Warnings: suicidal ideation, insecurity, misunderstandings, angst

Loki wasn’t sure why you lived with the Avengers. Sure, you were one hell of a good cook, and you bartended at Tony’s numerous parties, but surely you could do that while having a place of your own. Normally, Loki wouldn’t have given a second thought to where somebody chose to reside--even if he couldn’t understand people’s willingness to be anywhere near Stark--but you were driving him insane.

When Loki had first arrived at the tower, it had been a cruel and unusual punishment. House arrest at the very place that he suffered a humiliating defeat, with the very heroes that had defeated him. Of course, not many people were very welcoming. He was permitted to roam about the tower as long as he stayed on good behavior, but that didn’t mean all residents were alright with it.

Stark was the easiest to deal with; his jokes and quips about Loki’s unfortunate ventures to rule, well, anything stung, but the malice behind them faded with every passing day. After all, it had been a long time since New York. Banner and Wanda were another story. They treated him politely enough, but the fear behind their eyes whenever he passed by made something rotten stir in his gut. No matter how much he attempted to redeem himself, people still saw him as evil. A villain.

It seemed as if Steve and Thor were the only ones glad to have him there. The Captain’s open arms had come as a surprise, but Loki was intuitive, and very quickly realized that Steve saw him in the same light as he did the Winter Soldier, Bucky. And in a way, Loki could see the similarities. They had both done awful things--albeit under far different circumstances--and were now working on gaining the trust of the ones kind enough to give them a second chance.

So Loki found himself seeking out Bucky’s company far more often than any of his other acquaintances. It was a strange sort of companionship, but it worked; Bucky usually opted to listen instead of speak, giving Loki the opportunity to ramble on about whatever grievances he held that week. There were usually a lot, and Bucky was the only one who didn’t offer him useless advice. He simply nodded along, fixing Loki with that thousand yard stare until he had finished.

And then, of course, there was you. All smiles and playful energy, with a raunchy sense of humor and a sharp tongue. You were much smaller than him, in terms of height and stature, but he often felt dwarfed when you were in the room. You just took up so much space with that reckless attitude and need for everyone in the room to be laughing. In an odd sort of way, you reminded him of a clown. Not because you were goofy, or funny looking, no. You just...made people smile, held their attention and made it your dying goal to be there for entertainment.

The first time Loki had seen you, he was quick to notice your easy beauty. It was rare that he found a Midgardian woman to be attractive, but he couldn’t deny that something about you just appealed to him. You weren’t a supermodel, nor were you drop-dead gorgeous in terms of Midgardian standards, but you had a very real-life grace. You didn’t look like those dolled up actresses he often saw on the television, you looked more natural, something that instantly caught Loki’s eye.

He had been reading quietly in the common room of the Stark Tower, having been forced out of his room by Thor to “at least be present, brother.” The other Avengers droned on about petty events while he attempted to tune them out. And then you stormed in, bringing a sense of excitement to the room with your very aura.

You greeted each person individually, making sure no hero was left out, until your eyes settled on him. Loki felt a heat rise in his cheeks under your intense gaze, and shifted uncomfortably. He brushed off the feeling as it simply had been a while since he had spoken to an attractive woman, not wanting to admit to himself the effect your presence had on him.

“New guy, Loki, psycho murderer,” you rattled off, still staring him down. Loki felt as if you were a cat, and he was the poor mouse that you had selected as your new plaything. “Which do you prefer?”

That caught him off guard. While he was still somewhat unfamiliar with Midgard’s social customs, he was at least sure that this was not a normal way to greet a stranger. That, and the disrespect warred with what he was used to: women on Asgard bowing to him, treating him with the dignity that a prince deserved. Despite the surprise, Loki’s aloof outer demeanor was not shaken, and he let the strangeness of it all roll off his back as he replied, “How about ‘God of Mischief?’ Or, if that is a bit too wordy, I would be open to ‘King Loki.’”

Your eyes lit up, and Loki found himself having to fight back a smile. His unconscious reaction left him feeling confused and slightly frustrated. Why was this mortal girl sending his emotions in a whirl? Loki scrambled for some sort of reasoning that didn’t have him looking pathetic, and settled on the idea that it had been a while since he had bed a woman, and you were particularly attractive. It only made sense that his body would react in ways that he had not expected.

Lost in his head, Loki barely noticed you were speaking again. “I like this one!” You said, clearly excited that he had matched your banter with ease. “New best friend acquired.”

Once again, you had left Loki reeling. Best friend? He wasn’t sure if he had ever had one of those before, and certainly not with someone he had just met. In fact, he wasn’t entirely positive that he even wanted one. Especially in the form of some over-enthusiastic mortal. Before he could protest, you plopped yourself down next to him on the couch. It wasn’t a very big piece of furniture, so when you settled into your seat, you were only a couple inches away from touching Loki.

He could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and once again, his heart fluttered. The urge to lean into you overwhelmed him, and Loki furrowed his eyebrows. God, had it really been that long since he had been with someone? The frustration at his stupid body for its stupid needs grew, and Loki made up his mind then and there. He would court you, then fuck you, and get over this silly little infatuation. With your earlier outburst at wanting to befriend him, Loki figured that it would be a breeze. With his silvertongue and charming good looks, he would have you squirming under him in no time. Easy.

But, of course, nothing was ever easy for Loki. You had managed to prove him quite wrong over the next few weeks. Your obliviousness to flirting was quite impressive, Loki found, despite even his most direct attempts. Every advance he made was thwarted by complete, and utter ignorance, coupled with the fact that you had probably not taken a single thing seriously in your entire life.

Loki would compliment you, and you’d grin wolfishly and twist it to make his words sound insulting, then cackling madly. And then was the time he “joked,” about getting you into his bed, to which you burst into a fit of giggles and said, “No way! I don’t want to be the other woman to Bucky!”

Loki had recoiled in bewilderment, and decided that enough was enough. Obviously you weren’t worth the effort, considering you never actually listened to anything he said. He’d just have to find someone who was capable of holding a conversation without turning something into a joke.

But...he couldn’t deny that he was constantly having to fight back a laugh at your remarks, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that you were annoying, not funny. And even when he had abandoned his plot to seduce you, Loki found himself gravitating towards you. Truth be told, he knew how to be direct, to really get what he wanted, but every time he worked up the courage to just lean in and kiss you...something stopped him. Deep down, he knew that if you actually rejected him, then the game would be over, and something about that just seemed devastating to Loki. So he continued with cat and mouse, letting you deflect his advances time after time, because at least you weren’t actually saying no.

He’d wander in the kitchen while you were cooking, sit down to watch your favorite shows and movies, and had even taken to sitting on the roof with you late at night when neither of you could sleep. Loki couldn’t avoid it anymore. It wasn't a simple attraction that he felt, it was adoration. You, a mortal of all creatures, had captured his interest. Maybe it was your wit. Maybe it was your unshakable happiness, the ability to keep everyone’s spirits up in any situation. Maybe it was the crushing need to protect you, to protect that pure soul from the viciousness of the universe. Whatever it was, you had actually ended up as Loki’s best friend. And somewhere along the line, he had fallen in love.

You sat in the living room alone, knees curled up to your chest on the couch. The four walls of your room had felt confining, like a prison cell that kept getting smaller. Your usual place of refuge would be the roof. But you didn’t dare venture up there like this. With your luck, Loki would find you there, and you weren’t sure if you had the strength to keep up your carefree persona.

Loki had never seen you upset before, never seen you weak. No one had, if you were honest. You fought hard to keep a smile plastered on your cheeks to keep up the appearance of a girl who never faltered with her high spirits. In a way, it wasn’t entirely fake. Joking around and being joyous was your real personality, but it was also a defense mechanism. If you never took anything seriously, nothing would ever hurt. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. The anxiety that wrecked your brain stayed constant, though, making your life a constant war with your own mind.

Your friendship with Loki was a fragile one, or at least it felt that way. You often felt as if you were walking on eggshells; every word that came out of your mouth risked driving him away. He had seemed to enjoy your wild and snarky personality when you first met him, so you didn’t dare try to be anything else. You were afraid that he would lose all interest when he discovered that you were just as fragile as all mortals were.

It was risky having your breakdown out in one of the main rooms, but the risk was better than dealing with the claustrophobia of your lonely bedroom. Besides, it wasn’t like you were going to sleep anyway. Better to just wait for daylight where you could at least feel some modicum of safety.

In your misery, you had forgotten that Loki was not an easy being to hide from. You were pretty sure that it was damn near impossible, actually. He seemed to...sense...your emotions, when you were in distress. And though you never showed it, kept that unwavering smile plastered across your face, he always appeared when you needed a friend to sit with. Tonight was no different.

Like a shadow, Loki emerged from the hallway in front of you, piercing eyes quickly landing on your curled up form in the darkness. He raised an eyebrow at you when you refused to even acknowledge him. “Dear, would you like to go up to the roof? Away from prying ears?” He offered.

You shook your head, and shrunk further into yourself when he crossed the room to sit next to you. Loki looked a little uneasy, as it was rare that you were silent. Usually, he had to fight to get a word in when you were on a tangent. Not that he minded too much. Though he liked to talk, he held a certain fondness for listening to you.

Loki tried again to engage you. “Why not? I know it’s a bit chilly tonight, but you’ve never minded that before."

It was clear that the god wasn’t going away until you gave him some kind of response, so you gritted your teeth and lied. “Sorry, bud. I just feel sick, that’s all.” You forced a laugh, but it sounded strained. “I’d rather stay close to the bathroom. I’m not sure Tony would be too excited if I puked on his roof.”

Blue eyes stared into yours, and you could literally feel Loki not believing you. Of course the God of Mischief would be able to spot a lie from a mile away. Still, he didn’t push the subject, something that you were grateful for. “Alright,” he said, leaning back into the couch. “Would you like me to sit with you?”

Fuck, you didn’t want to have to reject his company a second time, but you really needed to be alone right now. Loki seeing you have a meltdown would be the last straw, and you’d just end up throwing yourself off of the Stark Tower. No, it was better this way. “That’s okay, you get some rest. I’m not gonna keep you up for something so small.” You still hadn’t looked up, afraid that Loki would see the glimmer of tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. “Besides, you need your beauty sleep,” you tried to tease, but your voice came out flat and dull.

Loki thought for a second, then sighed. “As your king, I override your decision. I will be staying here until you’re feeling well enough to sleep.” He waited expectantly, obviously ready for you to make some bratty quip about not being one of his subjects, but it never came. You just didn’t have it in you.

Now that Loki had fully sunk down on the couch, his body was only inches from yours. You wanted so badly to lean into the heat of his side, to bury your face in the crook of his neck and let him cuddle your fears away. Instead of following your instincts, you squashed the daydream like a pesky bug. Nothing about Loki indicated that he was the cuddling type. Hell, he’d never so much as hugged you. He probably wasn’t a big fan of physical touch.

Deep breaths, you told yourself. Just keep it together until you’re on your own. That’s when you stiffened. Loki had stretched a long arm around you, and was looking at you intently to gauge your reaction.

“Is this okay? Humans are very social creatures, touch can help provide some comfort if you’re feeling ill.”

Loki’s scientific approach to the entire situation almost made you break out into laughter. Almost. Regardless, it was too hard to resist when you had such an open invitation. You scooted closer to the god and leaned against him, letting Loki hold you tight.

Before you could even try to stop yourself, you had burst into sobs. Something about being held had just broken the dam, and you were weeping uncontrollably into Loki’s shirt, sputtering out apologies all the while.

Loki shushed you and held you tighter, and you could’ve sworn that you felt an aura of possessiveness in his embrace. “It’s okay,” he murmured into your hair. “I’m here to help.”

You didn’t know how long you cried for, but when you were finally able to rein in the tears, you were horrified. Loki’s shirt was soaked with snot and tears, and your face was most definitely swollen and blotchy with red spots. And, worst of all, you had just proven to him that you were weak, and not worth his time. This was a disaster.

Loki, hearing your sniffling come to a stop, pulled away to look at you, and bit his lip nervously before beginning to speak. “There’s something I must confess to you. Seeing you now, trusting me with your vulnerability-”

You cut him off by jumping up from your seat, knocking his arms away from you. Like hell you were going to listen to the rest of his rejection. You already knew what he was going to say. That you were weak, that he no longer wanted anything to do with you. “Listen, Loki,” you snarled, unable to mask the pain in your voice. “You don’t have to say it, I get it. I’m gonna go to bed, you don’t have to hang out with me anymore,” you said, rushing to get the words out before you died from humiliation.

Loki watched in bewilderment, his words of affection dying on his lips and you turned tail and ran out of the room. Rejected? By a mortal? He had never known such embarrassment. And you hadn’t even had the good graces to let him finish. His heart began to darken with rage and shame. Of course you ran away, of course you didn’t want to be with someone like him. No one did, he should be used to this kind of treatment by now. How foolish of him to think that you would be any different.

#loki x reader #loki imagine #fanfic #mcu #marvel #angst #writing

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lin-nin · 3 years

Text

Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 9

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader

Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it?

Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer: Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

Chapter 9: Tours

< | Previous Chapter

The castle was nothing short if huge, as well as breathtaking. It, truly, made the castle in your own kingdom feel small. Then again, your kingdom was never exactly huge to begin with. Techno's felt as if it would sprawl on for ages. You had no idea how you'd get through this place on your own. Honestly, if it weren't for Techno’s hand gingerly placed upon your back, you would probably have already gotten lost.

You hardly noticed the hand most of the time, only absently aware of the warmth of it. He led you down the hall Wilbur had gone down, first, taking a turn to the right when the hallway branched off. Various paintings lined the walls, some catching your attention long enough to peer at. Whenever you did, Techno would stop and tell you what he knew of the paintings, whether they be portraits of his father following some conquest or battle, or of the sun setting over a ridge that lay somewhere in the kingdom. You couldn’t help but lament how pretty some of the places were. Each time you did, Techno would assure you you would likely get to see each place at some point.

You were eventually led to the kitchens, which were bustling with servants and chefs. That’s where Wilbur had gone to, you found out. The blonde woman beside him must have been the Nihachu he spoke of. You don’t know what you had expected, but it wasn’t exactly a chef. She was talking animatedly, a soft grin on her flour-splattered face. Wilbur had turned to glance at the door way, offering a faint smile your way. Nihachu’s gaze followed and she only dipped her head in a form of bow, hands busy with the ball of dough in front of her.

“Nihachu, she’s our head chef and an old friend of Wilbur’s. You’ll get to properly meet her tomorrow,” Techno informed from beside you. You simply nodded at that, letting him steer you away from the kitchen. The area the both of you were currently in consisted largely of servants quarters and storage rooms of the sorts. Nothing too exciting for you to see, though. That was fine, so long as it made the tour short.

At the end of the west wing was a door leading outside, into a large courtyard. This one seemed to have been turned into a bit of a training grounds. Curiosity lit up your eyes as you looked at the flattened area of grass with training dummies littering the edge. Techno laughed at the way you stared at it, patting your back a couple of times. “Wilbur, Tommy, and I train there. You’ll be able to soon.” You nodded, fingers running along the hilt of your dagger.

The courtyard opened up into a garden, which you only really glanced at. Your heart ached briefly, thoughts of George flooding your thoughts. You didn’t know when you would be able to walk through the gardens again. Not without thinking of him. The two of you had always gotten into such trouble in the gardens. They felt empty without his laughter ringing through the air, even if it wasn’t the gardens you had grown up in.

Techno led you through to the opposite side of the courtyard, away from the garden. A veranda greeted you, and you stepped up onto it. Of course Techno insisted on holding your hand to help you up, but you were becoming quite used to that. It was a little strange, but not entirely unwelcome. It was sweet.

“This is the ballroom. Where we hold our big celebrations, birthdays and the like. We’ll wind up holding the wedding here as well.” Techno pushed open one of the doors on the veranda, leading the pair of you into a large circular room. It was impressive. Not that you expected less. You wondered what the wedding would be like, briefly. It was hard to imagine it as your own. Everytime you did, your stomach flipped.

"Is there anywhere in here that isn't pretty?" You wondered, awestruck, aloud. It seemed unlikely. Techno laughed again, an occurrence that was becoming more common. Good. The way his laugh differed so vastly from his voice was nice. It made it pleasant.

"Maybe not in appearance, but I assure you that there's unsavory things here." His hand abandoned yours again, a feeling you didn't like still. At the very least he was once more guiding you along with a hand to your back. The exit from the ballroom took the pair of you back to the main room from earlier, emerging from between the stairs. Which presumably meant that all that remained on the main floor was the east wing. Which was exactly where Techno was leading you next.

"This wing is mainly official rooms- the throne room is here, as well as our dining hall. The library sits at the end of the wing," Techno explained as the pair of you walked. You nodded as he did, looking at everything you pass. Some doors he didn’t open, saying they were someone's office or another. There were a few rooms, the ones with mostly closed doors, that he did let you wander in.

When you had arrived at the dining hall, you took in every painting gracing the walls. These seemed more personal. All of them were portraits. You were attracted to one of the larger ones, scrutinizing it in your curiosity.

It depicted the royal family. The current one, at that. Even if the portrait was outdated. The King was sat in his throne, with a woman you could only assume was the Queen beside him. She was pretty, brown hair braided neatly, though you could see a few curls escaping it. That must be where they got the curls from, then. She had the same eyes Wilbur and Techno did. Warm, and kind. They were that brown that was comforting in a way you adored.

In front of the king stood who could only be Wilbur, looking very sullen. It was strange, compared to the warmth he seemed to radiate now. Tommy was in front of him, looking gangly but with a grin on his face that didn't seem to fit that of a royal family portrait. A bandage covered his cheek, a green bandana curled around his neck. He looked carefree, though that wasn't too different from the impression he gave off earlier.

Which meant the last figure, standing in front of the Queen, had to be Techno. It wasn't exactly what you would have expected, though. Instead of the long pink hair he sported now, it was cropped fairly short and blonde. He looked just as sullen as his older brother, but you had a feeling you knew why. His face was marked with a red scar, angling towards his eye. The one he mentioned getting from Wilbur.

"I'd been named crown prince about three days before this picture, this was about five years ago," Techno muttered from behind you. You turned back to him, glancing at him, then back to the painting. It was hard to connect that that was him.

"I never pictured you as a blonde." Those were the initial words out of your mouth, out of everything you had thought about. You commented on his hair.

He huffed softly in laughter at that, head shaking. "Did you think my hair was naturally pink? I have an image to uphold as crown prince." Him and his image that he was so obsessed with. You couldn't help the soft giggle that escaped you as you shook your head.

"I wasn't sure what I pictured, but it wasn't blonde. Your mother- The Queen- I haven't met her. Is there a reason?" You finally broached one question that stuck out to you in your mind. She hadn't shown to your kingdom, and you had yet to see her around.

Techno's amused face slowly faded, a frown replacing the smile he had worn. His brows furrowed for a few moments before he sighed. Should you have not asked that? "She'd been sick for a while. She died about half a year after that portrait. We still don't know what it was, it only affected her." He sounded distant as he spoke of his mother, and now you really felt guilty. Especially as he gazed at the painting with a forlorn look.

Without much else thought, you reached out and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. To force his attention back towards you. "Show me more of the castle," You murmured. Trying hard to distract him from what you were sure was an unpleasant memory. He looked down at you for a few moments, before nodding and leading you from the dining hall and the numerous portraits that filled the walls.

He took you through the rest of the east wing, telling you about certain things when he deemed necessary. After the east wing, it was time to go upstairs. This is where several bedrooms were, heading down each wing. Some were for the royal family, others for guests. Some just existed simply as spares, which you noted were the ones Tubbo would possibly be granted.

"This is the room I stay in," Techno broke you from your reverie as he knocked on the wood of the door. Something in your stomach flipped at that. Would you be expected to stay with him? You knew the two of you were getting married, but the nerves always got you. Heat rose to your cheeks at the meer thought. You heard that huff of his as he led you a little further down the hall. It made the heat spread to your ears.

"This one is your room, to stay in and decorate as you please." He leaned around you, pushing the door open carefully. The room was large, a four poster bed settled near a window. The blanket from your mother was folded neatly on it, and you were truly relieved for it. To one side was a fireplace with a couple of chairs in front of it, a door a few feet away. The other side of the room had another door. You assumed one held your clothes, while the other held bathing chambers. Good, you had everything you would need here.

"Thank you," you sighed in relief, smiling up at him. He returned the smile, motioning you into the room.

"It's courtesy. If you need me at any point, you can check my room. If I'm not there, just ask around." You nodded at his words. Good, you could deal with that. Maybe this entire arrangement wouldn’t be all too bad. Next Chapter | >

#dream #dream smp #dream team #dream x reader #dreamwastaken #kingdom au #reader insert #sleepy bois family #sleepy bois inc #technoblade #technoblade x reader #t&t

282 notes · View notes

sneezefiction · 3 years

Text

untouchable | vi

Atsumu x Reader

desc: in which an accidental run-in with pro volleyball player, Atsumu Miya, at a 7/11 leads to a strangers-to-lovers situation… but the catch is, you have no idea that he’s famous.

warnings: slight language, anxiety

wc: 6.6k

part 5 ⚬ part 6 ⚬ part 7

untouchable m.list

—

Recap:

And for the first half of this year you found yourself falling in love. Falling for this second glance of a man.

So finding out that Izumi Kenji had a partner was a punch to the gut.

Reaching for his hand that summer was a defining moment for you. The way he snatched his hand away from yours would have knocked all the air out of your lungs if you’d had any breath to spare.

—

Laughter echoes off the sides of buildings as you make your way past food stalls and restaurants. It’s warm. A gentle breeze tussles his hair, different strands catching purple and orange light from the store signs.

There are several things that are begging to hold your attention right now.

A new café to your right is stringing a “Grand Opening” banner across its shop doors. Bike bells ring off in the distance, the wheels gently thrumming against dusty cobblestone. Groups of teenagers snicker as they pass you by, their voices carefree and teasing. Two dogs tread loyally next to their owners on the other side of the street, their claws clicking as their paws hit the pavement.

But even among all of those distractions and details, all you can see is him. The mop of messy hair atop his head. His umber brown eyes. A curious smile.

Izumi Kenji had stolen your heart slowly and carefully; he did so without a balaclava or a disguise to lure you in. And as you meander the downtown area with him, your fondness for him only grows.

Meeting him at that after-work party may have been the best thing that happened to you this year. You were comfortable - in the middle of a bar, talking to a stranger and laughing with him. And who were you to turn down the one good thing life had sent your way.

Although, with how nonexistent your social life was, you would’ve let almost anyone into your social circle. You just deem yourself lucky that it was Kenji who happened to be in your vicinity.

He’d ended up asking for your number at the end of the night - you rattled off the digits faster than you could blink.

“...if you ever need anything, just send me a text.”

It was an outstretched hand of a sentence. A bone thrown to a starving dog. Finally, there was a person you could rely on.

You took his words to heart.

After that night, it was almost unfair how easily he broke down your barriers.

It was Kenji who took you sightseeing through all of Osaka in the Winter months, making sure that you’d mapped out the area so that you were more comfortable when you went exploring on your own. Your snow boots and his became well acquainted.

He’d shown you his favorite eateries and shops, rambling quietly about his favorite pastries and old, dusty memories that came from his time spent in the area.

His jacket made its way to your shoulder when you visibly shuddered from the cold as Winter shifted to Spring. And as Summer approached, you allowed yourself to let your guard down. With distant eyes, you learned about his family and his plans. You wondered if maybe there was a place for you in that future.

Any doubts about this connection you had with him had melted away.

He was your closest friend by far… and who’s to say he couldn’t be more?

You glance to your left, a small smile working its way onto your lips. Kenji’s eyes wander the street, completely lost in thought. His expression is serene under the violet glow of street lights.

And his hand… his hand is achingly close to your own.

Its a position you frequently found yourself in: walking side by side, almost touching, but never quite close enough to grasp at his hand.

You’ve never really seen yourself as someone to make first moves, but this has gone on for too long. And your fingertips are begging you to do something about this distance between you two.

You swallow hard.

Choking back your hesitation, you brush your hand against his.

He doesn’t pull away, only sending you a quick glance. Kenji’s soft smile doesn’t budge, though he does raise an eyebrow at you.

You assume that this is a good sign. He doesn’t seem uncomfortable, the moment feels natural, and this… this could actually work.

You take one more deep breath and gingerly link your fingers with his-

But before you can even blink, Kenji snaps his hand back to his side. His head whips toward you, feet stopping in their tracks.

“What… what are you doing,” he stammers, eyes widening.

You wince. That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping for. Far from it.

“I think that’s-” You glance down at your rejected hand, eyes wide, “-kind of obvious.”

He stares at you, mouth agape. You take a step back, heart dropping. Why would he pull his hand back? Did I do something wrong-

“I’m seeing someone-” He breathes, “-you knew that.”

Like a tree branch splintering after a lightning strike, you feel as though something inside of you has cracked and split.

Your body can’t decide if your blood should turn to ice from shock or if it should succumb to the heat of humiliation rising in your chest. How did you not know this?

And why hadn’t you just asked him first?

That’s what normal people did. If you hadn’t acted based on a silly impulse maybe you would have spoken to him about your relationship with him first… but it’s too late now. And the pressure continues to build up in your stomach until you feel like a balloon on the verge of popping.

“...you knew that… didn’t you?”

Something sharp stabs at your heart.

“I had no idea.” Your reply is flat. Distant.

It twists.

“I- I’m so sorry, I could’ve sworn I’d told you…” He responds softly.

In a tearing motion, it rips back out.

“No. You hadn’t.” You say curtly, eyes glazing over.

You let on to the bitterness welling up in your chest more than you wish you would have… but who could blame you?

Tucking your hands deep into your pants pockets, you try to hold your composure.

Your mouth is uncomfortably dry and your hands are suddenly very sweaty.

What does someone do in a situation like this?

You’d always assumed that this was the type of thing to happen to somebody else. Thinking that feelings were mutual and then being struck with the fact that your “almost-boyfriend” was actually already deep into a relationship. It sounds like something out of a teenage romance novel... but it’s clear that the shame clouding your mind is not secondhand.

Unintentionally or not, Kenji had led you on… and here you are, feeling like you’ve just been publicly gutted.

He doesn’t owe you anything. No, not at all.

If anything, you owe him for all of the kindness he’s extended to you.

But that doesn’t explain everything he’s done for you these past few months.

Paying for meals even though you’d practically fought him for bills at every restaurant you’d visited together. Spending hours together on weekends when you both had work to complete. Meeting his friends, taking the train together on days when your schedules collided, exploring the city and your past with him…

You’d wondered why he hadn’t asked you out yet.

It didn’t make any sense.

Maybe he was confused too?

A thought crosses your mind that maybe he may have been using you as some sort of support system. Maybe you were just let into his life to comfort him through his own relational instability. Were you just Kenji’s escape? Is he just completely unaware?

But now you’re just jumping to conclusions. It might not be anything of the sort. Trying to piece together a story that doesn’t add up in the first place won’t help you at all - at least, not right after such a blatant rejection.

You take another step back, effectively tuning out anything he has to say. The light on his face no longer reflects something inviting; instead, all you can see is the confusion marring his previously peaceful expression.

He’s trying to talk to you, he’s taking steps toward you, he’s even reaching a hand out… but you just can’t. Not with the discomfort in your chest and a thundercloud of tension rumbling above you.

You can’t remember what shitty excuse you’d made to get out of there, but not even 10 minutes after this awkward, messy, fucked up moment, you’re on a train back home.

And everything is numb.

The shuffle and shake of the passenger car is enough to distract you for now.

But the moment you get home - the very second you kick off your shoes - insecurity comes knocking at the door of your mind.

You lay face down on the couch. The room stirs in darkness, gloom sinking into the cracks of the wall and pooling at the corners of your eyes. Because how was this fair? What had you done to deserve this? Was nothing going to be easy for you?

You let yourself cry.

Questions swim through your mind. Fears too. The pain of, once again, being alone exposes itself through heavy tears and spluttering sobs.

So you attempt to bury it all deep down...

As far from the surface as it can go...

But as most things do, these questions and insecurities will resurface.

It’s only a matter of time.

—

You noticed it from the moment you woke up.

The stiffness in your arms and the churning in your stomach were telltale signs… but as the hours rolled on and the sun sunk lower in the sky, it became more obvious.

Your lungs were fine yesterday, but today they shrink and tighten with every passing minute.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you’ve switched on the TV and turned to Netflix for comfort. It isn’t much, but the modulated noise of a baking show and a warm blanket draped over your lap blocks out some of the dizzying worries in your head.

First date nerves are a thing.

The clammy palms, the jitters, the loss of appetite… you have it all.

You’re well aware that this is a universal experience, so you try to empathize with yourself. There’s no reason to be embarrassed by it. Shame would only drag you deeper into this muddy pit of nerves that you’re so desperately trying to claw your way out of.

But this technically isn’t even a date.

And you’re not about to assume that it’s anything like one.

Just to be safe, you’ve decided that this outing would blandly be categorized as a “sporadic meet up with a stranger.” Your words, not Atsumu’s.

But just because it isn’t technically a date doesn’t mean you can’t be jittery…

You grip the remote in your hand tighter. It accidentally shuts the TV off, but that’s probably for the better. You haven’t gotten ready yet and it’s getting close to 5 pm. Somehow you’d managed to snuggle the day away in your apartment. Again.

Letting out an anxious yawn, you hop up from your nestled position on the couch.

You step into the hallway and make your way to the bathroom to wash your face. As you patter the length of the hall, you finally allow your mind to roam. It immediately hones in on your anxieties like a dog chasing a delightfully peeved squirrel.

Is it pathetic? To be 20 something years old and petrified by something as simple as a dinner date?

Your brain says “no,” but a part of you is whispering out a quiet “yes” in response. Most people would be excited to see someone after being lonely for so long.

So why are you this bothered? What’s with this piercing fragility that makes your hands shake and your skin crawl?

When did you become so… scared? Like you would crumble just by being in the presence of another person?

And then it hits you. Your head plummets into your hands.

Ever since you’d met Atsumu, you haven’t had the mental stamina to think about Izumi Kenji.

Or what he’d done to you. Or how he’d metaphorically pushed you when you were already toeing at the precipice of a cliff. You’d been a step away from falling and breaking under the weight of the past few years, and he’d shattered you in a single night.

So, yes, that would explain the current twisting in your chest. It’s also probably why you’re so worried about Atsumu. Or, at least, it’s one big reason as to why, you conclude.

But, even with this epiphany, you find yourself stepping into the bathroom, wrung dry and physically unsteady. Thinking about Kenji doesn’t make you feel any better.

Your fingers grip the rim of the porcelain sink, eyes fixed on the drain in the center.

You stare at it.

One reminder of him and you were already weary.

The glossiness of the bowl reflects a splotchy, humanesque blob back at you. You swivel the faucet handle, letting warm water coast around the bowl and spiral down the drain. It erases that human-like reflection.

If only it could wash away your problems. Now that’d be something to write home about.

The cool of the tile beneath your feet and a splash of warm water on your face is a welcome distraction… but short-lived. The water drips off of your face. You blindly feel around for a fresh towel and, after laying your hands on one, you gently pat your face down.

Blinking your eyes open, you stand up straight.

As you do, you find yourself studying a much clearer reflection than the blurry face in the sink bowl. Sunken features bore into you from the bathroom mirror. You sigh and turn to open up a medicine cabinet to grab a few facial products, applying them one-by-one.

If you do happen to crash and burn tonight, you figure you might as well look damn good in the process. Skincare would help with that.

But before you can further sink into the idea that tonight might turn into another nightmarish scenario, a friendly face, someone sunny and charming, enters your mind.

The picture Atsumu’s wavy hair and that smug smile of his. While the rest of his face is a little fuzzy in your mind, you vividly remember how his mouth quirk upwards and the electric buzz you felt from the sheer warmth of his eyes.

Atsumu has been on your mind a lot these days. And, as much as it’s been a distraction, it’s also been a welcome mental detour.

Somehow, the very thought of him coaxes your own lips to relax into a smile. You sigh, tilting your head back in defeat. So this is what 3 years of loneliness can do to a person - how embarrassing.

But you can’t deny that he gives you something to look forward to - an emotion you can’t quite put your finger on. You two share a connection; there’s some common ground that hasn’t been dug up just yet. And, for whatever it’s worth, you want to keep digging until you figure it out.

As you smooth a moisturizer over your skin, you decide that you’ll wear something nice tonight. Maybe you’ll pick out an outfit you haven’t worn before and do your best to drown your shaky hands in the fabric of a long-sleeved shirt. If it goes well, maybe you’ll have found someone who actually likes you.

If it doesn’t work out, you can just drive back home and forget he ever existed. Simple as that.

But...

You’d like to think that Atsumu could be just as sweet as he seems; assuming the worst about him would get you nowhere.

You continue to repeat that to yourself before you leave. That all you can do is hope it goes well.

Nothing more, nothing less.

—

You rest your foot firmly on the brake and switch the gearshift so that your car is in park. You rub your eyes and double-check the location on your phone’s GPS. Back at your apartment, it looked like you would be arriving at a café near the park… but you’re not so sure anymore.

Did… did Atsumu really send you here?

You never entertained the idea of him being a prankster… but if this was, perhaps, a practical joke? Well, you’re not above calling him and telling him to “fuck off.” There’s nothing stopping you from driving away and blocking his number right now.

Scrolling through the map application, you notice that you’re relatively close to several restaurants, so there is that. He’d promised you dinner and there’s an abundance of food within walking distance.

But you weren’t expecting to pull up to such a secluded location. You shiver in your seat and grip the steering wheel. Does he realize just how scary it is to meet someone at a random place like this?

Whipping out your phone, you tap a quick message containing something along the lines of “why the hell did you send me to a park.” Your therapist would probably give you a high-five for being so straightforward.

You hit send and sink into your chair.

A brief glance out your car window helps to settle your frayed nerves just a hair.

It’s not quite as empty as you thought it was. The area is just… calm. Many couples stroll along the main path, hand-in-hand. Others are sat on picnic blankets, tucking their toes into the cool grass and chattering away.

And, most comfortingly of all, it’s still bright outside.

You thank the sun that it still rests above the horizon, drenching the trees tops and green grass with deep-honey hues. People and daylight mean safety. You’ve had to learn that after living alone for so long.

A text notification pings on your phone only seconds after messaging him.

You’ll give him some credit. Atsumu is a timely texter. You’ve found yourself in more real-time texting conversations with him than almost anyone else you’ve met in Osaka. And it’s been how long since you met him? A few weeks? A month?

Atsumu’s text reassures you that you’re not at the wrong place.

At least the park was intentional, you nod to yourself. You’re doing your best to trust that he wouldn’t take you somewhere that would make you uncomfortable.

Another text informs you that he’s already seated on a bench near where you parked.

Your heart skips a beat and your head jolts upward, scanning the area. A hand also shoots up to clutch at your chest, gripping the fabric of your top.

Yep. You’re still jumpy.

But this time, the shaky hands and pounding nerves are rooted in restlessness instead of fear… and maybe a little bit of excitement?

Suddenly, the park is far less frightening.

You step out of the car, wallet and keys in one hand, and smooth out your outfit with your free hand. The wind nips at you through the fabric of your clothes, but with the sunshine painting your skin, it isn’t too bad.

Maybe bringing a coat would’ve been wiser than relying on this sweater to keep you warm… but it’s too late to think about that now.

Your eyes dart around and you trod through the grass and onto a graveled pathway. It crunches satisfyingly underneath your feet, but you can’t enjoy it when you’re so intent on finding him. With a few short strides, you’re quick to spot the back of someone’s head. A familiar head of blonde waves shines golden thanks to the setting sun.

You’re almost entirely sure it’s Atsumu.

And as if he had sensed your presence, the man in question tilts a glance over his shoulder.

His face is blank until he catches your eye.

An easy grin, one brighter than the stars, bursts into existence.

For someone so conventionally attractive, he sure looks excited to see little ole you. Raising your hand, you wave and send him a shy smile back.

He’s quick to jump to his feet and as he does, you’re quickly reminded of just how tall he is. Atsumu’s head matches the height of several tree branches. It makes you think that he’s probably walked into a number of things. Door headers, branches, signs that are hung a couple of inches too low… you’re sure he’s learned to duck and dodge over the years.

You wish you could ask him about that.

You blink.

That’s right. You can ask him about that - you’ll do that later, though.

“Hey there.” He chuckles.

His voice… it’s huskier than you’d remembered.

You spoke with him over the phone just yesterday to confirm that tonight was still happening, so why was his voice giving you chills now? It’s deep and smooth and, without the static from the phone audio, it’s actually kind of sexy.

Okay, you’ve got to calm down.

“Hi,” you reply sweetly, tilting your head.

Should you hug him? Just keep standing there? Hopefully, he’s better at filling awkward silence than you are. You’re not bad at handling social situations, but it seems safer to wait for his cues.

Atsumu keeps his hands in his pockets, “Long time, no see.”

It’s phrased as if you were both old friends reuniting after years of distance. It kind of feels that way too.

“I don’t actually think it’s been that long.” You raise an eyebrow, keeping a straight face.

“It’sa turn of phrase, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

That word sounds so easy on his tongue, damn it.

A few beats pass… and both of you break into grins once again.

But before you can respond, and much to your confusion, Atsumu spins on his feels to face the pathway. The pebbles under his feet shift as he takes a few steps forward.

He turns his head to catch your eye, “Well? C’mon then, let’s walk and talk,” and juts an arm out.

You stare at him for a moment, confused.

“Are ya gonna leave me hangin’? Atsumu tilts his head back, a coy smile on his lips as though whatever he’s trying to do is ridiculously obvious.

After a few moments of deep contemplation, realization dawns over your features. He’s extending his elbow out… for you? To hold onto?

Oh.

With a slight flush, you step forth and link arms with him. He grins down at you, perfectly resembling a fox you saw in a National Geographic magazine last week. This is a lot closer than you’d anticipated on getting with him; not that you’re complaining.

Although, for someone you’ve only met twice, you feel like you’ve known him for years.

The few phone calls and those text conversations have given you some insight into his life, but they don’t explain why you two click so well in person. He’s illogically familiar.

You decide not to question the closeness and instead choose to spark a conversation.

That should be easy enough; after all, he’d promised you dinner, and you were given directions to a park - you’re anything but questionless.

You lean into his side slightly and break the silence, “You smell good.”

Considering he’s crossed that line with you already, you aren’t too worried about saying it back to him.

“Thanks, I showered.” He smiles and shrugs as if to brush off your compliment, but you swear you see a fleeting blush on his cheeks.

“Thank God.” You sigh in mock relief, relaxing your shoulders.

He squints, clicking his tongue, “Okay, no need to tease. At least get to know a guy first,” but his voice is void of offense.

“So if I tease you, you won’t take me to dinner?” A curious tone rings in your voice.

“Oh, I will even if ya do. Where do ya think we’re walkin’ to?”

You snort, “Hopefully a restaurant?”

“Bull’s eye.” He winks.

Atsumu looks down at you and you can’t help but smile up at him. Your nerves had melted away like a popsicle under a blazing summer sun; all that’s left is a sweet, melty feeling that has you feeling a little too comfortable.

Maybe you shouldn’t be so trusting. Protecting yourself has been your number one goal since Kenji let you down…

But that doesn’t mean you can’t laugh or get to know Atsumu.

It just means you need to keep your expectations in check. This may seem like a date, but until he says something, you won’t jump to conclusions. In the meantime, you just need to keep talking. Enjoy it while it lasts and laugh a little.

You nudge his side, “By the way…”

“Hm?”

“What’s with bringing me to a park?”

You’ve been dying to hear this explanation since you arrived. Sure, the atmosphere is perfect; fall weather is notorious for pleasant walks and colorful leaves. However, you’d like to hear his reasoning.

“I thought we could get to know each other better before stuffin’ our faces.”

You make a face, “Well, doesn’t that sound lovely. You sure have a way with words.”

Atsumu is nothing if not blunt.

He pouts, eyes narrowing, “You gonna make fun of the way I talk now? I’ll have you know, I’ve been mocked enough to last me a life time. I ain’t all that sensitive anymore.”

You laugh and subconsciously tighten your hold on his arm.

“Alright Mr. Not Sensitive, I won’t make fun of you anymore.”

If you were paying attention to his face, you might’ve seen another flush of pink… but your eyes are squinting from the sun and Atsumu is sure to pull himself together before you can notice it.

“But I do have some important questions for you,” You begin.

Those words are sure to spark fear into anybody. This is confirmed when his arm stiffens ever so slightly and your eyes crinkle in mischief.

He swallows, “Yeah, go for it.”

“Favorite color?”

Atsumu’s eyes flick down to yours, squinting. They seem to say, “important, my ass.”

He instantly loosens, “Easy. Red.” Confidence is clear in his tone.

You nod. You don’t have to know him well to know that the answer suits him. Atsumu is fiery and he’s burned bright in your mind since you met him. If anyone should be allowed to like red, it’s him.

“Favorite food?”

“Mmm…” He furrows his brows in deliberation, “ I gotta say fatty tuna. But my brother makes some killer onigiri, though. I think that’s a close second.”

Your brows shoot up, eyes widening. He’d never mentioned anything about his family before this.

“You have a brother?” You press, leaning in to study his face while trying not to trip over your own two feet.

“Technically, a twin. But I’m the older one...” He huffs, “...and the better lookin’ one.”

Your jaw drops. “I can’t believe you hadn’t mentioned him before this!”

As an only child, you can only imagine what it’d be like to have a sibling, much less a twin.

“Well,” Atsumu rolls his eyes at you, “He’s alright…”

It looks like he’s about to change the subject, but one glance at your face is all it takes for him to realize that you want to hear more. Your eyes are sparkling. Full of vibrant curiosity… how could he stop now?

You’re actually interested in him.

“We’re really close actually,” Atsumu clears his throat, straightening up a little. “I mean, he isn’t like me at all. He’s real’ calm in comparison. A great cook. Some people say he’s handsome - but he got the looks from me, y’know?”

You roll your eyes, keeping in stride with him. “Yeah, yeah, keep going.”

“He’s good with the ladies, smart, athletic...” He rambles on. “If he’d just slow down a little, he would probably be married by now...”

You just listen, fully invested in his words.

It’s nice to hear about family - you haven’t seen your’s in a long time.

The fondness in Atsumu’s expression seeps through his abbreviated words.

He looks almost pained as he compliments his twin and amusement flickers in your eyes as you watch it all unfold. You hadn’t asked for a dating profile description of his brother, but you’re not about to shut him up.

“I bet you’d like him. Not as much as you’d like me, of course,” he smirks and your chest tightens.

The butterflies you’d thought you’d left back in highschool seem to have dusted themselves off and started fluttering again.

“But, yeah. He’s a good guy.”

Atsumu’s free hand then runs through his hair, pushing the waves back. You can see a sudden onset of nerves on his face. He’s quick to hide it though.

“And, uh, just so you know… he may or may not own the restaurant I’m taking you to tonight.”

That’s enough for you plant your feet in place. Atsumu stops as well.

He’s… taking you to his brother’s restaurant.

You gaze up at him, at a loss for words.

Is his brother going to be there? I mean, it is his place. But meeting his family? Out of the blue, like this? It’s all out of order.

You can’t help but wonder if he’s ever going to give your racing heart a chance to settle.

“Is that too much?” Atsumu is quick to cut in. His voice isn’t gentle… but even with it’s roughness, you can hear something that resembles concern.

“A- ah, no! It’s fine!” You reassure him, “I… I’m happy to go.”

His shoulders drop down again and so do yours.

There’s no point in getting worked up about it. But it’s becoming clear that Atsumu isn’t a very conventional person. Nor is he daunted by sporadic plans. Next time, you’ll ask for a point-by-point itinerary, just to be safe.

Atsumu reveals the name of the restaurant, “Onigiri Miya,” and you find yourself asking more family-related questions as you two dawdle down the pathway…

Which naturally leads to conversations about high-school.

It turns out that he and his twin were on a volleyball team together. Which makes sense. He definitely has the muscle, the height, and the spunk to be an athlete.

You know shit about the sport, but that doesn’t mean you don’t see the gleam in his eyes when he rattles off a story about one of his old games. It’s been a long time since you last listened to someone speak about something so passionately.

But there’s even more.

You hear mentions of many boys’ names.

There’s his brother, Osamu; he mentions their little spats and occasional fist fights. Although he makes sure to clarify that they’re both a lot more level headed nowadays. Next is Atsumu’s upperclassman, Kita; he’s someone Atsumu respects and fears with every inch of his being. Then there’s Suna, Omimi, Aran, and… too many others to count.

Games and nationals and several terms you can’t quite grasp swim through your head as you re-live some of Atsumu’s own memories with him.

His high-school years sound exciting, bright, and funny. Of course, those experiences would create the charming mess that is Atsumu Miya.

After padding under draping treetops, you both finally make it out of the park and onto the sidewalks.

Restaurants and small shops line the streets and pedestrians cross in groups across the narrow roads. At this point, the sun is loosing its shine, sinking beneath the trees’ branches and ever-darkening buildings. But you, with your phone in your pocket and your arm in his, feel safe.

Atsumu’s effortlessness and his blunt way of speaking really made for easy conversation.

But before you can ask him if he still plays volleyball, you find yourself standing in front of a small, bright storefront: “Onigiri Miya.” The words are plastered on a wooden board in white, chalk paint. It’s sleek and cute - if you’d stumbled upon the shop before this, you’d have walked in of your volition.

“I’m thinkin’ I just talked your ear off the whole way here.” Atsumu sighs apologetically.

You shrug, “I guess that just means I’m a good listener.”

In all honestly, you’re glad he rambled. It got rid of your restlessness and calmed your racing thoughts.

He unlinks your arm from his and your side is now exposed to the cold air. It only just hits you how physical that walk had been. Even without a coat, having him at your side had kept you warm and cozy.

How long has it been since you were comfortably side-by-side with someone? It’s been months since you’d been around Kenji… years since you last slept with someone you actually liked… but when was the last time you held a hand or wrapped your arm around someone else’s?

Atsumu’s words cut into your thoughts, “You’re easy to talk to, but I wanna hear more about you when we get inside.”

And he’s holding the door open for you, one hand clasped around the handle and the other tucked casually into his pocket. You thank him… he didn’t give you the impression of being “gentlemanly” or whatever that word meant, but you find the gesture to be sweet.

As you step inside the small restaurant, your senses are overtaken by the smell of freshly cooked rice and an explosion of delicious seasonings. There are bar stools open at the front counter and metal chairs surrounding worn-down wooden tables. The atmosphere is homely and diner-like; as though, no matter how often you actually visited, you would be treated as a regular.

Someone calls out from the back, “C’mon in, I cleared the place out for y’all.”

The voice resembles Atsumu’s style of speech; gruff and straight to the point… but a little smoother. Then you realize what that voice had actually said. There’s nobody else here.

“Alright, we’ll make ourselves at home then. I can take your-”

He scans you for a jacket… that doesn’t exist.

“You didn’t bring a coat.” He says flatly.

You glance down at your outfit, grasping the edge of your sweater and feathering a thumb over its seam.

“I forgot one.” You admit, looking back up to him, “Why? Is that a problem?”

“Nah, I was just gonna offer to take it.”

You hadn’t noticed what he’d been wearing before this, but now that you’re under the soft lighting of the restaurant, you realize he’s dressed up a little.

Atsumu removes a short, tan coat and places it onto the back of a chair. A black turtleneck sweater is revealed underneath. The fabric outlines his chest and arms in the most unfair way while the dark color pleasantly contrasts his lighter skin tone.

How hadn’t you noticed how gut-wrenchingly attractive he was before this?

With how fast things were moving and how comfortable you felt talking to him, you must’ve conveniently glossed over this fact. It’s not like you’d planned on getting to know him.

But now that you do? Well, it doesn’t hurt that he basically has the body of Chris Hemsworth. Atsumu’s definitely not some Walmart version of him though - this boy deserves his own brand of attractiveness.

You swallow hard as your eyes trail his body.

“Like whatcha see?”

You startle, shuffling backward. If you weren’t already out of your element, you sure are now. Caught red-handed (red-eyed?) staring at your not-date.

“Awh, c’mon I’m joking - take a seat,” Atsumu pulls a chair out for you, cringing when it lets out a shrill squeak on the floor. The sound rings through the air and you find yourself laughing.

In a swift motion, you jump up and onto the chair.

He slides the chair back toward the bar counter, except this time you both expect the screeching of the chair’s legs. It’s worse than nails on a chalkboard, but it’s perfect for loosening up any tightness in the airspace. This time, it’s his turn to chuckle.

He mutters out a quick, “Sorry,” but you just shake your head, amused.

Snagging his own chair, and this time lifting it off of the ground to avoid bursting another eardrum, Atsumu slides up next to you.

You lean on the counter, a hand propping up your cheek. “That was very smooth, Atsumu.”

“Thanks,” he rolls his eyes, “I try.”

“‘Tsumu? Smooth? Yeah, right,” that same voice travels from the kitchen to the front of the store.

Footsteps are soon to follow it and you’re greeted by Chris Hemsworth 2.0. Maybe you should refer to him as Liam Hemsworth? Nope, Osamu, you quickly decide, is also his own genre of attractive.

Although Osamu is dressed in a simple, black “Onigiri Miya” t-shirt and cap, he could probably be a Calvin Klein model. For someone who owns a restaurant, his muscle tone is absolute perfection - these brothers are really something.

And their resemblance of each other, though twins, is almost uncanny. You thank some unknown force that hair-dye exists, because if you saw them from a distance, you may not be able to tell them apart.

“Ah, shaddup. You’re just sayin’ that cuz you’re jealous,” the blonde snorts.

“Jealous of what? Your shit attempts at flirtin’?”

“That’s below the belt, ‘Samu. Don’t be such an ass.”

‘Tsumu? ‘Samu? That’s cute, you chuckle to yourself. Of course, these guys would have nicknames for each other. It was common sense.

You sit back as they bicker, wondering who must’ve raised these 6-foot chaotic giants. You’d love to meet them just to give them a medal and a bouquet of flowers for putting up with them. They must’ve dealt with so much bullshit.

“I could say the same to you. Ya haven’t properly introduced me yet.” He nods his head toward you, cool-grey eyes warming up when they meet yours.

Your lips quirk into a smile and before you know it, you’ve introduced yourself.

He copies your smile, though it’s much softer than your own, and begins his own little introduction; although you’re sure that, with all the information Atsumu has already listed off to you, you don’t really need one.

“I’m Miya Osamu, but that’s probably obvious by now,” he adjusts his cap, “Callin’ me Miya would be confusin’ for all of us, so just Osamu’s fine.”

He’s polite and carries himself confidently, but his voice is a little softer than Atsumu’s. Or, it is when he’s speaking to you. There’s a brotherly gentleness to his tone and it relaxes you instantly.

“Please keep in mind that I’m the better twin,” Atsumu adds, shooting daggers at his brother.

Osamu shoots them right back, but you don’t fail to notice the playful fondness behind their eyes. You can almost picture them as kids, with band-aids on their knees and mud on their clothes. They make it seem like being twins meant having a built-in best friend.

Their closeness is overwhelming.

There’s a warmth in the atmosphere, and you’re positive that it’s not just because something’s cooking in the kitchen. It feels special, just being allowed to sit and watch them banter.

And the fact that Atsumu is sharing this with you?

Well, you’re counting yourself very lucky to be here right now.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu #osamu miya #osamu #miya twins #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #untouchable series #it's been awhile since i've updated #but i hope u can enjoy it!!!

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coeurdastronaute · 3 years

Text

Nerd 14

Previously on Nerd

There weren’t many things considered as decorations in the house on the corner of Inglewood Street. The old stone house, with its black shutters and manicured lawn hid behind a stately oak and the polished Porsche in the driveway, glowed as a beacon in the neighborhood, of perfection and wealthy modesty. Inside, it was less populated than one might expect, never fully lived-in, at least not to the casual observer.

Clarke moved her way down the stairs as she balanced the bag on her shoulder, fully prepared for work and then studying with her girlfriend on a fairly boring Saturday night. For the first time in a long time, she looked at the sparse frames of pictures of her family.

Unsure of what made her pause, she furrowed, pushing her eyebrows tightly together and leaning into the image of her mother and father on a random date when they were together in college. They were carefree and at some bar trivia night. Abby hugged Jake’s bicep and nearly hid in his shoulder as he leaned forward, other arm lifted to interject an answer. He was smiling wide despite his eagerness, the flash ricocheting off part of his large glasses. His hair was floppy and fully, swept to the side and neatly arranged, while Abby was brimming with life. Clarke loved the candid picture because sometimes she looked at it, and these were two people who had entire lives and experiences and she forgot that. They probably got butterflies like she did when Lexa smiled at her. They probably spent hours excitedly waiting to see the other.

In that picture, her mother wasn’t the person she was now, though both seemed insanely far away from Clarke. This college-aged person was alive, vibrant, in-love, awake, eager, and not cheating on her husband. The body language alone showed how much she adored him.

In that picture, her father was the funny, charming man she remembered, not the angry, frustrated man who was skin and bones, who couldn’t eat, who couldn’t swallow, who had difficulties moving most days and remembering his own daughter others. He was alive as well. He was the man everyone wanted to sit beside for some reason, for som inexplicable reason he had this… he had a spark that drew those to him like a moth to a flame, except he was that flame, and he shared his light eagerly with those around him.

Clarke relaxed her face after a few moments of looking and seeing and trying to find some kind of detail in that picture that would indicate that the couple in it would know what their life would like like two decades later. There wasn’t a single indication, and that terrified her.

“Did you finish you math?” her mother’s voice called from the hallway, hearing her daughter shift and move to look at the next picture without seeing her first.

“Yes.”

The next image was a very tiny Clarke on her father’s shoulders and her mother hugging his waist as they all stood beneath a redwood tree. They had hiking gear, shorts, sunglasses, hats and sunscreen. They were all smiling. They were a family.

“Did you email me that draft of your personal essay for applications?”

Clarke gave up perusing, no longer feeling the yearn for that family unit that was far away. She rolled her eyes and stomped her way down the steps to find her mother sorting through envelopes and mail.

“No.”

“Why not?” Abby didn’t look up as she flipped.

“Because I’m a junior, and I have five months before applications are due.”

“That’s no excuse not to be prepared. Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time chasing after some gir--”

“Who am I chasing after?” Clarke scoffed, crossing her arms and peering at her mother. “Do you mean helping Lexa on her submission for film school? Do you mean tennis practice? Do you mean working part time? Do you mean having a social life?”

“Considerate that you can help someone else get into college.”

“It’s going to take her months to edit, which I can’t-- I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

That did it. Clarke knew it would. Clarke new an overt expression of her own independence would trigger her mother. She knew arguing and not appearing to care about college would give her the satisfaction of a righteous fight. She wanted it. It’d been brewing for about a week and a half, ever since Clarke said she was going prom dress shopping without her. Ever since Clark forgot to tell her about spending the night camping with Lexa and the film crew while the powered through the project. Ever since Clarke didn't’ come home for dinner last Tuesday and then raved about Mrs. Woods’ garlic chicken. Tiny things Clarke did with spite because she didn’t know what else to do, because she couldn’t do anything else.

Abby’s nostrils flared and Clarke jutted her hip, shrugging to herself as she dug for her phone, ready to go to work and escape the house and the persistent smell of medical equipment and cleaner that haunted her until she was about two blocks from the house.

“I’ll be home around midnight.”

“Like hell you will. You’ll be home right after your shift.”

“No,” Clarke paused as she turned to leave. “I’m going over Lexa’s to study. We’re watching a Cary Grant movie.”

“You’re under the misconception that you get to make your own schedule and plans without asking permission. But that is not the case, Clarke.”

“I’ve been doing fine.”

“You’ve barely been home. Your father is--”

“Right there, in that room, asleep. I know this because I spent the morning with him. We made pancakes and played a game of cribbage. We talked about school and Lexa and I showed him pictures of the past week of my life. And I helped him with his meds because he’s having a bit of a flare. I told him I’d see him in the morning for omelettes because we’ve been watching cooking shows together and he wants to try the french style. I know exactly what is going on with my father.”

She hadn’t meant to, but her voice began to raise as she spoke. Clarke felt her fist shake. She felt her muscles tighten and her jaw clench. She was okay with being considered lazy and unmotivated, but to be accused of negligence was uncalled for, especially from someone like her mother.

“Don’t you raise your voice! You are greatly mistaken as to the nature of our relationship. I am your mother, and I am sick of your attitude, and your priorities not being your father and your family or your education.”

“Lexa has nothing to do with any of that. Are you just mad I’m dating a girl? Or that I don’t care what you think anymore?”

Slightly taken aback by her daughter, by her words, by her actions, by her entire demeanor over the past few months and frankly just sick of dealing with being the bad guy.

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” Abby shook her head.

“I could say the same thing.”

The two stared at each other before Clarke shook her head and adjusted her bag. She toyed with her keys in her pockets before checking her phone again.

“I’m going to be late for work. I’ll be back tonight.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Abby insisted again. “You’re grounded indefinitely.”

“Except I’m not,” Clarke sighed and shook her head. “I’m not because I don’t care anymore. I genuinely don’t.”

“You’re going to. Give me your keys and your phone.”

“No.”

“I’m not joking, Clarke. You’re going to need to readjust your priorities and attitude.”

“I think you should take your own advice,” Clarke insisted as she reached the front door. “Or are you too busy fucking Kane to realize that there is no more family here?”

With a satisfying slam, she yanked the door shut. The anger that was stationed in her shoulders dissipated with the noise and movement. Clarke stood there in the quiet of her perfect neighborhood, the flapping of the flag lazily moving in the spring breeze was all she heard at first. Then the birds came. Then a lawnmower started in the distance.

Clarke felt lighter than she’d felt in a long time. She also felt emptier than any other time in her life. It was officially the end, and now she had to deal with that because the anger and the hurt and the betrayal was all she’d had in her for what felt like months. It hadn’t made anything better, and it certainly ruined everything, but Clarke took some solace in the fact that now she could try to fill herself up with something else.

XXXXXXXXXX

The party at Bellamy Blake’s house was in full swing by the time Lexa made her way up the winding driveway and into the belly of the beast. She wasn’t sure how she ended up there exactly, except that her girlfriend texted and said to show up. That seemed to be enough of a reason, though Lexa wasn’t particularly prepared. They’d had plans. Quiet plans. Private plans. Movie plans.

And now Lexa was going to her girlfriend’s ex’s party.

She shoved her hands in her pockets as she moved through the crowd, clearly not getting the memo that jeans were not entirely good enough attire, and in fact she seemed to be extremely overdressed. Her eyes bugged slightly as she watched a girl from her physics class walk by in a very tiny, very teeny lime green bikini. Lexa became suddenly aware of the appeal of such things, as if she hadn’t noticed them before, but then MIchelle who sat diagonally in front of her third period looked like that and she gulped.

The music thumped loudly. The beats were rattling the walls and shaking the windows while the screams and giggles of her classmates sought to shatter glass. It wasn’t like the other parties she’d been to with Clarke. It wasn’t even like thrones Anya dragged her to when she visited. This was a night of debauchery and she hadn’t had time to prepare.

And as much as she saw everyone else wearing bikinis, she hadn’t thought about Clarke wearing one. She’d seen Clarke’s boobs before. That was nice. But there was something to her girlfriend in a bikini that was… good. Very good, even.

Lexa pushed her glasses up slightly on her nose and stared.

“What are you doing here?” Gus asked, approaching quietly. She didn’t move or say anything else, just stared from across the pool, the steam billowing upward to ward the sky while everyone seemed to glow blue and green and red, the lights alternating around them, the flames of the fire pits dancing to keep everyone warm. The warm glow of the lights inside were lost on the white-blue shade to the water.

“Lexa, focus,” he snapped his fingers in front of her face. “What are you doing here? Your sister would kill me if she knew you were at a Blake party.”

“How is it different than any other party?”

“It just is.”

“Because of the pool? I’ve been to pool parties.”

It hadn’t been since seventh grade and didn’t look like an episode of a CW show, but still, she’d been to a pool party with many of the same cast of characters that were currently on display. It was before puberty, but still.

“We need to get you home.”

“Clarke invited me.”

“It doesn’t matter. This isn’t your scene.”

“I can be in any scene. I’ve watched every John Hughes movie.”

“This is more of an episode of Euphoria than an 80s teen flick,” Gus sighed and took another swig from his cup. “And I fully believe you would fit in fine with Molly Ringwald.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Lexa nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

She took her eyes off of her girlfriend long enough to assure her friend that she was perfectly fine now. She was dating the head cheerleader. She’d been to parties and seen--

“Gus-- is that cocaine?”

“Okay, yeah, we have to get you out of here,” he shook his head and tossed his empty cup into a flowerbed.

“Is it really?” she asked, craning her neck as he pushed her forward. “I’ve never see that in real life before. People actually do that thing with the credit cards and dollar bills? Astounding. Where does one get cocaine?”

“You don’t need to know that.”

“I’m not going to do it. I’m just curious.”

They only made it a few steps before the ran into a sopping body. A tall, muscular, tan, perfectly chiseled and dripping body. It was the body of an actual god. It was the body of the perfect specimen, with biceps and the long swimmer cuts that pointed firmly toward his… his-ness.

“Gus, long time, man. How you been?” Bellamy Blake grinned before slipping his cup in his teeth as he hugged the other football player.

“Not too bad. Heard you’re heading to Oregon in the fall?”

“Yeah, partial scholarship. We’ll see what happens,” he shrugged. “Staying close?”

“Yeah, St. Johns, about three hours away.”

“Full ride?”

“Yeah. I got offered half to OSU, but would rather not have to pay anything.”

“No, that’s smart.”

The whole time they spoke, Lexa watched Clarke’s ex intently. She frowned to herself and wondered how her girlfriend broke up with him. He was effortlessly cool. He was huge. He looked like he knew how to go down on a girl, and Lexa was still apprehensive. She wished she could fast forward in life until she was really good at sex.

She watched him grin and sip from his red cup, meeting her eyes curiously as Gus explained something about his college recruitment process.

“I don’t think we’ve ever met before. I’m Bellamy.”

He held out his hand. And though she didn’t want to do it, she sighed and shook his hand.

“Sorry, I should have introduced you. This is Lexa.”

“Lexa… Lexa…” He mulled.

“Anya Woods’ sister.”

“Wow, you’re Anya’s little sister?”

“Yeah.”

“How is she? I forgot she had a little sister. I remember her little brother died-- oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“We were just heading out,” Gus interrupted.

“I was actually just going to go talk to Clarke.”

“Why would you--”

Before anything else could be said, before anything else could transpire between the two of them, before Gus had to interrupt again, Clarke appeared, launching herself into her girlfriend’s arms, wrapping her own around her neck, her body still slightly damp from the pool she must have just climbed out of during the awkward introduction.

“You’re here. I’m so happy,” Clarke hummed against Lexa’s warm neck. She buried herself there, suffocating herself happily, slightly tipsy.

“I told you I’d stop by.”

Clarke kissed her girlfriend’s neck. She leaned most of her body against her there and giggled, oblivious to the eyes, too drunk to care about anything else happening.

“I am have the worst day. Maybe the worst week. Maybe the worst year ever. No, wait. Definitely the worst year, and today I finally told my mom everything and then left. So Yeah. It’s been terrible. I got drunk.”

“Not the healthiest coping mechanism.”

“Not a bit,” Clarke grinned, agreeing eagerly and with a wide grin. She leaned forward and kissed her girlfriend despite her words.

“You can be healthy tomorrow,” Lexa offered. “You okay?”

“As okay as can be.”

There was some throat clearing that happened behind them, and Lexa felt a burning in her ears and chest at the display, unaccustomed to it all.

“So this is your new girlfriend?” Bellamy asked, looking at the pair.

“Lex, I suppose you’ve met my ex,” Clarke gestured.

“Kind of.”

“Is this party a little much?”

“If I remember correctly, this was exactly the kind of thing you liked. We went to many a party in our tenure,” Bellamy shrugged, lazily leaning against a counter. “Things changed since I left, I guess.”

“I enjoyed not thinking,” Clarke offered. “You were great for that.”

Gus and Lexa looked between the two and then at each other. She was almost certain she didn’t know what was happening, but that certainly, something was, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

“You moved on quick, huh?”

“Hey, step back,” Gus interrupted as Bellamy took a single step. “This is Anya’s sister.”

“Woods?” he furrowed. “You’re dating Anya Woods’ kid sister?”

“Yup,” Clarke nodded.

“I heard she was--”

“Standing right here,” Gus finished.

Lexa felt Clarke’s hand move into her own and she smiled despite the fact that she was picking up a drunk girl at her college guy ex’s party. There was a lot in that sentence she wasn’t happy about, now that she thought about it.

“You ready to get out of here?” Lexa asked innocently, ignoring the rest.

“I think we still have a few more shots lined up, Clarke,” Bellamy smiled and Lexa understood the need to punch.

Noticeably torn, she looked at her girlfriend and back at her ex before realizing that she was actually drunk, and that wasn’t good. Lexa smiled softly and rubbed her girlfriend’s back. She kind of imagined how it must have felt to implode and take her mother down with her. Lexa remembered the feeling of telling her father she was gay and sad. Clarke’s implosion didn’t seem as successful as her own, and Lexa was more than happy to try to help in whatever way she could.

“Can I stay at your place tonight?”

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded quickly. “I’ll text my mom to let her know.”

“You’re seriously leaving?” The college football player and terrible ex scoffed. “The night is still young. It’s barely after eleven.”

“Thanks for getting me drunk, but I should probably go do something better.”

“Thanks for showing me around,” Lexa offered nodding her head slightly toward the host before he could argue. “Have a good night. I’ll see you on Monday, Gus.”

“Get home safe,” the linebacker warned.

Slightly dumbfounded, Bellamy Blake stood there, hands on his hips as he watched his ex weave through the crowd of people and disappear. As much s everything stayed the same, he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling of change, and how averse he was to it.

XXXXXXXXXX

“Here, you can, uh,” Lexa quickly moved through her bedroom, leaving her girlfriend standing by the bed. “I have some old sweats if you want.”

Already, Clarke began taking off her pants, and Lexa quickly looked in the drawers of her dresser. She felt the tips of her ears burn slightly as she looked over her shoulder, her girlfriend slumping into the bed, pants lost to the floor.

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone to that party. I knew it,” Clarke sighed, rubbing her face with both hands to ride herself of the spinning. “But I didn’t care. I just wanted to… you know…”

“You had it out with your mom. You just anted to go far away. I get it.”

“Don’t be nice to me. I knew better than to go, especially to anything involving Bellamy Blake.”

“Why?”

“He doesn’t care about any of it. Just has drinks. I should have called you or like done something else.”

“You’re allowed to want to take a night off from a giant secret after a huge fight. And you don’t need my permission,” Lexa reminded her girlfriend, offering an old shirt.

“It was stupid.”

“Do you feel better?”

Gingerly, Lexa tugged at Clarke’s shirt, pulling it over her head until she flopped back down on the bed, her hair fanning out against the pillow. Agitated at herself, at her clothe, at the unfathomable uncontrollability to the entirety of her life, Clarke growled to herself as she tugged off her bra, tossing it to the side and gracelessly pulling on the shirt Lexa offered.

“I don’t feel better at all.”

It was certainly a pout, and Lexa did her best to ignore it. Instead, she slicked off the light beside the bed, and slid between the sheets next to Clarke. Lexa laid there until Clarke turned to face her, until she placed her hand on her neck and cheek.

“I’m sorry you had to pick me up.”

“It’s okay,” Lexa whispered.

“It’s not. I’m not like this… I don’t mean to be… I mean--”

“It’s okay.”

Clarke leaned forward, shifting beneath the blankets until their knees were touching. She moved to only push the hair from Lexa’s forehead and she paused before kissing her lips. She tasted the warmth of the tequila there and she didn’t care. Lexa signed.

“Please don’t give up on me anytime soon,” Clarke murmured. Stunned from the kiss, Lexa blinked in the dark and shifted closer.

“I wouldn’t ever.”

“I know you wouldn’t. I just had to say it out loud.”

“Okay.”

Lexa was certain she was going to get another kiss, but instead, Clarke dug her forehead under her girlfriend’s chin and pressed their bodies together, hugging her tightly and disappearing, being overwhelmed, anchoring herself to a steady force. Lexa rubbed Clarke’s back for a few moments until she fell asleep, and then she allowed herself the option of sleep.

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jwxei · 3 years

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˗ˏˋ achilles' heel - chapter two ˎˊ˗

// eyes red, vast and volcanic //

You wish you could say the same thing when you struck up conversation with him. To say he was anything but a brute was naive of you, and the nagging voice in your mind was lecturing you for thinking that way. To be honest, you weren't really sure what to do when he lashed out at you so suddenly. All you were trying to do was get to your seat, nothing else. But the hot headed autocrat had other plans.

Apparently you were in his way. And after he had stated that fact he went off on a mini speech about how great he was and how everyone else wasn't.

"Out of my way extras," he would harshly declare, "If you're going to act so useless, at least be stones I can step off to reach my victory."

To you, he just sounded like an egotistical boy who takes pleasure in pushing others around. But surprisingly no one seemed to question his actions. As absurd as he was, it really seemed to affect most people. You could see the glinting fear in their eyes when he crouched to meet their gaze. When he gave that jagged smirk, satisfied with the dominance created. But what ticked you off most was the way he looked down on others. How he held his head slightly higher than everyone else's and loved to poke holes into every mistake made. There was a clear difference between confidence and arrogance, and he was an excellent example of what not to become.

The odd thing was that people still tried to befriend him, despite his threatening attitude. You could see an eccentric haired red-head approach him everyday, constantly wearing the same carefree expression. Without fail, he would flash him a welcoming smile and make his way over. It irritated you, to say the least. You couldn't see why anyone would ever want to befriend someone who was plain crude. But then again, you weren't someone who would go out of their way to desperately make friends. You enrolled to U.A for one purpose only; it wasn't going to change anytime soon.

But still, you couldn't help but observe as the energetic boy beamed at the proud dictator, polar opposites at their best. You could swear you saw rays coming from his smile. And the bright radiance he gave made you feel safe, comforted and soothed. For a while, you would find yourself to bask in his joyful tendencies, the whole atmosphere lightening up when he walked into the room. It puzzled you as to why someone so pure and great as him would want to stoop down to someone which no respect for anyone else but himself.

Bakugo didn't seem to appreciate the hospitality shown to him, though. Whenever the lively boy (who you now came to know as Eijiro Kirishima) would try to spark a conversation, all he would do is yank his head the opposite direction. The only responses given were silent glares that bore through you, or rough grunts if he was in a good mood. Another admirable trait of Kirishima was that he never faltered. Even when Bakugo gave him the harshest of glares, which would strike fear into most, the red-head did not feel threatened.

He was praiseworthy, you could give him that. Although, it didn't mean that he could escape the insults Bakugo carelessly threw around. Kirishima had coined the name 'Shitty Hair' from him because of his bright red tufts that were styled into spikes that shot above. However he didn't seem to take the nickname too heavily. And he snapped back with an offhand comment about how their hairstyles were similar. It impressed you. How he could put up with Bakugo's stand-off attitude. But then again, you lacked something Kirishima seemed to have an abundance of; patience.

You remember the first time that it happened. The ticking torment that Bakugo first released upon you. All you were trying to do was get to your seat. You didn't want any unnecessary attention, and he was more than you had bargained for at U.A. As you weaved your way through the maze of pristine desks, a rough grip caught you off balance and nearly yanked you to the ground. You whipped your head in fury to see who it was, only to meet a pair of blazing red eyes. They glowered at your form, you gladly returning the favour. A gruff voice, one that sounded like coarse asphalt, spit at you.

"The hell is a weakling like you doing here?" An athletically built boy had both his feet crossed onto his desk. His forest green pants sagged and hung loosely around his waist, revealing a peek of his-. No. You scolded yourself and tugged your mind out of the gutter. The frustration that brimmed inside you was more overpowering. How dare this obnoxious man speak to you like you were some sort of lesser specimen? A sever urge to wreck this man's ego and put him in his place highly tempted you. But unlike him, you weren't looking for a fight.

You tugged away from his grip and gave him a bitter glance. His lips curled into a cruel smirk in response before running his hands through ash blond locks. You knew you hated him the minute he flashed you that smile. Indulging in the fantasy of humbling him helped satisfy your need to square him right in his cocky, perfect face. Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself and bluffed an unbothered attitude.

"That is none of your business." You replied through gritted teeth. "Now I suggest you go bother someone else before I report you for harassment." You tilted your head innocently, and cracked a forced grin at him. Bakugo's sneer disappeared from view and he scoffed coldly. He faced away before going back to his own business. Taking it as a success, you made your way back to your desk, plopping down to take you study materials out.

A bubbly brunette to your right whispered to a frog-like classmate. Their hushed conversation consisted of panicked murmurs and what sounded to be a frog-like noise. You fiddled with the stationary placed upon your desk, twirling the mechanical pencil between your fingers seamlessly. You could pick up on their little discussion if it proved necessary, but didn't bother to. The last thing you needed was another headache. After a few more minutes, the brown-haired girl seen speaking before tapped your shoulder.

"You're L/N Y/N right?" You looked up, taken aback by the sudden interaction. She looked at you with wide eyes the shades of dark honey. She was so close to your face that you could see the black lines that traced in and out of her iris. Her frame was small, but not frail, and she had her arms crossed behind her. The frog girl had now returned to her previous business. She appeared uninterested in the topic but occasionally glanced back ever now and then. You answered the girl before you.

"Uh, yeah. That's me!" A smile shone from your features, this time it came naturally. She exhaled out a little before rubbing her hands together. The odd thing was that her fingers never touched.

"Wow! Well I gotta give it to you for holding your ground against that hot head over there!" She pointed her thumb in Bakugo's direction. You noticed how her fingertips had a slightly darker shade that appeared in a circular pattern. The boy subject to the attention caught her pointing, and gave her a teething snarl. You sheepishly laughed and thanked her. She also giggled with a playful tone before leaning in to whisper in your ear. "To be honest I thought that you were gonna get blown to pieces! We all thought a villain was in the making. Anyways, I'm Ochako Uraraka. Nice to meet you."

You laughed along with her, but this time it was more forced. It's not like she was wrong; there were aspects of Bakugo that could be seen as villainous. But something about him being a villain didn't sit right with you. It did not make sense to even yourself, as to why you would think that. Perhaps you thought he had potential to be better. Yeah, you mocked your own thought. Like that would happen anytime soon.

You only proved yourself right as the days went by. The relentless blonde showed great interest in afflicting annoyance and pain into you. For weeks on end, he would belittle you with insults and comparisons. Sometimes he would even take your things and hide them in the smallest and inconvenient places. One time, he had taken your whole backpack and swung it to the top of a tree to hang there overnight. Explaining to Aizawa Sensei why you didn't have your school supplies with you the next day was a complete nightmare, him staring you down with bloodshot eyes the whole time.

Granted, there were some days where he completely ignored you. When you would make eye contact in the hallways, he would always shove his gaze somewhere else and stuff his hands in his pockets. You were thankful for these times, if you were being honest, but they only came once in a blue moon. It was insufferable; trying to predict how he would treat you was maddening and drove you up the wall. Your patience was thinning fast, and every mishap that involved him only boiled your fiery blood even more.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

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utterlyhopeful-fics · 3 years

Text

Love on the Line - Part 6

A/N: It’s finally here!!!

MASTERLIST P1 P2 P3 P4 P5

Henry Cavill x Reader

If I keep tagging you and you’re not interested or want to be tagged; please let know!

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: heartache, language, angst, a pinch of lovey dovey fluff, cliffhanger

*****************************

“Ohhh myy god…it’s official. This is the best burger of my life, hands down.”

What could easily be perceived as orgasmic music delightfully made its way to his ears. Seb chuckled studying the beautiful girl across from him admiring her combination of burger grease, ketchup, and mustard staining her chin. Y/N was too lost in the delicious meal to notice Seb gleefully watching her. In an instant his hand wiped away the condiment catching Y/N by surprise. She smiled bashfully blushing.

“Told you I knew a place.”

She sighed genuinely happy in them moment; “I could die a happy girl tomorrow because of this sweet, juicy perfection of a burger. All thanks to you.”

“What can I say? I have good taste.”

“And how did you run across this wonderous joint? Kinda feels off the beaten path.”

“Well, when you fly as much as me you learn to ask around. I never trust the internet when it comes to what I put in my body. I like to know what and where the locals scavenge for a tasty meal.”

“You continue to surprise me …I admire your style, Seb. Original, classy, and you no doubt just about charm the pants off any person who walks your way.”

“Is it working now?” He flashed his most flirtatious smile devouring another sweet potato fry.

Quick on her feet, she shot back with wit and attitude; “Should it be?”

“I gotta say Y/N, I’ve never been happier to wake someone up on a plane until I met you.”

“Damn, you’re suave, Seb. Fucking suave.”

Her eyes bulged from their sockets at her crude choice of words; “Shit, I’m sorry. Ah, fuck.”

His laugh flew through the air like wind on a crisp fall evening; her cheeks flushed.

“I’m not usually such a sailor. Guess you bring out the best in me.”

“I don’t mind a bit. In fact, I kinda like that I fluster you if I’m being honest.”

“So smooth. Are you sure you’re not from LA? I get the sense that’s a requirement in these parts?”

He shook his head in stark disagreement; “Nope, sorry to disappoint you. Just a common foreigner.”

“And a handsome one at that.”

Shocked at her boldness, Y/N stared down at the remnants of food moving her fries as a distraction from his adorable gaze.

“I haven’t felt this at ease in …well I can’t remember. It’s nice.”

“Couldn’t agree more. I never actually asked what brings you here?”

Seb nervously scratched the back of his head; “Uh, work. Like I said, I travel pretty frequently. Hollywood is a hub of sorts for me. What brings you here?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll take the hint and pry later. Well, I’m a writer and some big exec wants to discuss the rights to my book series. So, yeah.”

“Y/N, that’s amazing! Are you secretly a super hero, part of the Avengers maybe?”

“Hahah, flattery will certainly get you far. No doubts there.”

“You’re too kind, Y/N. I’m definitely far from perfect.”

“Good. Perfection is overrated. Flaws are attractively imperfect. I mean at the end of the day we’re only human.”

“Consider me intrigued. I’ve gotta stop by a bookstore and check you out now!”

“Oh, hush! If you must know, I try to keep a low profile. So, uh, how long are you here for?”

“A couple days. I’ve got a bit of free time after my meeting tomorrow and thinking of hitting some trails while I’m here. Don’t get me wrong, LA is cool and all, but kinda suffocating. I try and maintain my distance if possible.”

“Oh, you’re preaching to the choir. The hustle and bustle of London is the literal definition of overwhelming. Countryside getaways were my one true savior. Sometimes London feels like an overpacked sardine can just waiting to explode.”

“So why did you stay?”

Y/N bit her lip trying to keep quiet. She hadn’t once though of Henry since meeting Seb. The lump in her throat appeared by just the mere mention of her subconscious. A part of her wasn’t ready to reveal the ache left beneath her exterior.

“Friends and family. What else ties a person to one place?”

“Love? A relationship?”

His coyness was flattering. She gave into his curiosity.

“Are you asking if I’m single?” Her feigned expression was enough to send him into a fit of harmonious laughter.

“Maybe, maybe not. Depends on your answer, I guess. Part of me believes you’re too good to be true which usually means taken.”

“HA, no. Relationships and I are not on speaking terms at the moment.”

“Ah, sounds like heartbreak hotel is just around the corner….”

“I recently got out of a long-term relationship. So, to answer your question; Yes, I’m single and so not ready to mingle.”

“Are you assuming I’m hitting on you?” His shocked appearance made her question their entire encounter and if she’d been reading the signs wrong all along.

“Well, good thing I’m only here for the coffee and platonic company, hm?”

Seb raised his mug in salute as her stress magically melted away; “Break-ups suck. But allow for a real opportunity to see who you really are. Pain can be a bitter reminder of sadness and strength.”

“Wow, philosophizing so soon into our newly found friendship? A man after my own heart!”

Y/N playfully placed her hand over her heart, smiling for particular reason.

“How about if you’re interested and only 100% positive you aren’t sick of my company; we do dinner or even drinks? Whichever the lady chooses.”

Seb motioned in jest. Y/N tried to remember the last time she’d felt so carefree unable to pin down an exact memory. For far to long Y/N trapped herself in a fog allowing Henry to rule over her even when he wasn’t physically there. It had to stop, she had to quit placing him on a pedestal if she had any luck of moving on from their failed love affair. One torturous long minute passed as Seb’s nerved ramped up.

“Shit, I’m that weird dude, now. Forget I asked and let’s chalk it up to an amazing afternoon as strangers who leave this diner and head back to our own separate lives without consequence?”

Again, Y/N was speechless contemplating what she truly wanted to do next.

“First things first, stop blubbering, you seriously are ungodly handsome. And on second note, our chance meeting was unexpected but kinda sorta awesome. I’d love to see you again. I can’t recall the last time I’ve felt so free…and don’t even get me started on the belly aches due to your comedic skills.”

“Damn, a woman that speaks her mind. Are you sure you’re not in politics?”

“Nope, never, no thank you. Sooo, it’s a date?”

Seb furrowed his eyebrow in pleasant surprise; “You said it, not me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes; “Yeah, yeah. What do the kids say nowadays…. YOLO?”

“Yes, and please never say that again.”

A napkin holder was placed strategically resting against the window sill. Seb signaled to their middle-aged waitress; “Pardon me, do you have a pen handy?”

“Course, darling. Anything for ya.” She winked dropping the pen on the edge of the checkered table leaving them to privacy. He scribbled his number on the grainy piece of paper and slid it her way.

“I’ll leave the ball in your court and pass the privilege of reaching out to confirm details.”

“Wow, and they say chivalry is dead? Obviously not in Romania.”

“What fine establishment do they have you shacking up in?”

“Chateau Marmont. Long story short, my publisher fully embraces and understands my introverted nature and love of historical hotels. Call me an oddball.”

“Oddball.”

They snickered like school children slowly understanding their time was coming to a close. A power, a force of sorts gravitated Y/N towards him. He felt the same way.

“I happen to think women who especially history buffs are so incredibly magnificent. I haven’t met many as beautiful as you.

Their flirtation skyrocketed like flicks of fire firing between them.

“Knowledge is like your super power…. also, intelligent women are a complete turn on.”

She swatted his arm smiling like a kid in a candy shop.

“Come on, let’s get outta here. I’ll drop you off.”

He offered his hand helping Y/N to her feet. She lingered a second too long. With Seb a couple steps behind her, she missed the clinch of his fists and Seb’s reddened cheeks.

---The Next Day---

No luxury was forgotten as Y/N observed her decadent hotel room, but no matter how comfortable the memory foam or high thread count sheets, Y/N tossed restlessly the whole night. Her anxieties attacking her mind at every possible angle. Worry engulfed her clutching on her own insecurities. Her fear?

That she’d walk into David Fincher’s office and leave very humiliated and very far from home. Henry’s ghost loitered just out of reach. A ghost can be many a thing; a memory, a daydream, a secret, but most times, a wish. Old or new. But that was the past, memories she must let go of.

Y/N stared at the ceiling wishing her bed to open up and swallow her whole finally dozing off to her temporary dreamland. But sunlight painted the walls like a colorful painting. She stretched and moaned at the sensations of her waking bones.

Making her way to the bathroom, Y/N’s phone chimed forcing her to circle back towards the obnoxious device.

Seb: Buna dimineata prietene! (Good Morning, friend)

Y/N: Romanian? So early in the morning. How dare you sir?

Blinking dots ran across the screen as Y/N waited impatiently for his witty response.

Seb: Never too early for greatness. As they say in the theater, break a leg! But not an actual leg because I might be looking forward to our date. Okay, good luck with the meeting!

Y/N: Thanks for the good juju. Same to you! Call you later.

She unconsciously rubbed at the tender swell in her chest, the fluttering in her belly kicking wildly. Butterflies. It’d been ages since she’d been this excited and it surprised Y/N. Maybe she was ready for something more…Y/N shook her head ridding herself of such silly thoughts. She knew better than to rush full steam ahead.

---Later that day---

The fourteenth floor was decorated to architectural perfection. Every space had its purpose and the décor elegantly stylish. There she stood in the presence of cinematic greatness! As Y/N was about to pinch herself, she heard an echo of a name. Looking up, she searched for the unknown voice before landing on an enthusiastic figure waving her direction.

“Y/N! So nice to finally see you in person. I’m Meg.”

“Meg, so glad to put a face to a name. Thank you for having me.”

Both women walked down a hallway lined of glass walls smiling at those who looked up.

“David has talked nonstop about your series. So much so that I ended up devouring your books in three days. You’re freaking brilliant!”

“You really think so? I worked my ass off to get it through any publishing house. I was on the verge of chucking my ideas in the trash and getting an actual job that paid real money if it wasn’t for a last-ditch effort.”

“I’ve blocked off a thirty-minute window before his next meeting begins. He’s booked back-to-back today but by no means feel rushed. He hates when I push him. Don’t tell him I said that.”

Her head bobbed nonchalantly taking notice of the stunning scenery from the 17th level.

“Alright, here goes nothing.”

“Best of luck, Y/N.”

Meg knocked; “Come in!”

“David, this is Y/N.”

“Thanks, Meg. Close the door behind ya, we’ve got loads to discuss.”

David extended his hand towards Y/N’s shaking firmly. Y/N reminded herself to breath and to quickly find her manners.

She stuttered trying to remember common speech causing David to laugh aloud.

“Ms. Y/N, you okay?”

“Yyess—just a tad shell shocked. I mean, I can’t believe I’m standing in a room with the David Fincher. Unbelievable, really. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”

“I should be the one thanking you. You wrote one hell of a series that I trust can be transferred stunningly over to the silver screen where it can be fully appreciated. I’ve never seen someone mold together so many genres with such ease yet adding a layer of complexity. You, young lady, kept me guessing every twist and turn. That doesn’t happen too often if you catch my drift.”

“I-I, it’s just nice all those late-night writing sessions and waiting tables paid off. I’ll have you know I was on the verge of giving it all up and going back to school.”

“So, let’s get down to details. My team and I have come up with an offer that is totally open for negotiations.”

David slid a piece of paper into view. Y/N stared at the parchment gob smacked. Her jaw fell open at the written proposal.

“Holy shit.” Her eyes snapped up at her vulgar language; “Shit! I don’t mean to be impolite.”

“Ha, it’s a bit flabbergasting upon first glance but I promise you I want to do everything in my power to make this work for both parties.”

“Am I…am I reading this correctly?”

“Indeed, $10 million for the first two films, advancing to an additional $13, $15, $17 million for the last three. Of course, aiding us in the writer’s room to make sure we bring your story to live through your eyes. This will undoubtfully increase book sales across the board, I’d say upwards of $60 million if all goes accordingly. Also, I didn’t forget about making you an executive producer.”

“You’re kidding me, riight? Am I dreaming?”

“You’re gonna be a big deal once the tabloids get their sticky fingers on this. I mean this is going to skyrocket you to the likes of Stephenie Meyer and Suzanne Collins status. I mean, I had to outbid Peter Jackson just for a chance at directing this masterpiece. Darling, you’re all Hollywood can talk about right now.”

“Wow, I’m, uh, seriously grateful. I guess I’ve been shacking up in London far too long. I don’t really read celeb gossip so needless to say I’ve been in my own bubble.”

“A huge thank you goes out to Henry Cavill for pitching the initial idea. He helped get the recognition you deserve. Nice fellow, that one.”

Momentary shock came over her face, mouth still agape; “He—Henry had a hand in this?”

“Most certainly. He was the one who brought it to my attention. Of course, he mentioned the desire to work with me was motivation enough, but genuinely, he seemed passionate about the project.”

“I-I had no idea.” Switching gears as fast as possible Y/N trotted forth; “So realistically, when can we get the ball rolling?”

“Once the proper documents are signed and stamped, we’re good to go. If negotiations aren’t necessary, I’d say within the next month or so we can start casting calls, booking air fare, figuring out destination shoots, getting a manuscript going. It comes together faster than people think. How about this; you mull it over, call whoever you need, and get back at me in the next couple of days. Sound good?”

“Sounds more than good! I think I’ll be forever be in your debt, Mr. Fincher.”

“Please, call me David. We have a long road ahead of us that has truly stoked a fire in me, all thanks to you.”

Her nerves triumphed pushing Henry to the back of her mind. Y/N had bigger fish to fry.

“May I be frank with you, David?”

“By all means.”

“As you probably know Henry’s my ex-fiancée. Is it true you’re possibly considering him for the lead role?”

David looked around quizzically composing himself.

“I figured we’d have to address the elephant in the office. Yes, I was aware and I didn’t consider him to be malicious. He’s a genius actor and I figured it was worth a chat. But if you’re worried about anything, just say the word.”

“No, no. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize his successes. I agree, he’s an untapped actor full of surprising talent. I’ll be okay.”

“You promise?”

“Yep.”

“Great! Rest assured he isn’t even in the country. Believe he’s still galivanting about London.”

Silently pleading to change the subject, Y/N snapped out of it as quickly as she flew in to.

“This is a dream come true. I’m really looking forward to working with you and bringing my story to life.”

The squeaky hinge of the door alerted her to Meg’s foreboding presence. Taking a cue, Y/N stood up shaking David’s hand beaming like a child on Christmas Eve.

“I’ll be in touch, Y/N. Until then, enjoy your stay. Venture out. You’ll find LA isn’t all plastic and bullshit.”

“Oh, thank god. For a second I was getting nervous.”

“Haha! Meg, next appointment here?”

“Yes, he’s right around the cor--.”

“Y/N?”

She searched for the familiar voice unable to pin it down.

“Seb!? Wha...what are you doing here? I thought you had that big meeting today?”

“Uh, I do. That’s why I’m here.”

Sebastian nervously scratched his neck. Bewildered and thoroughly confused Y/N pushed on; “Wait a minute…. Are you an ...?”

“Actor, yes.”

“Whoa, whoa whoa. Wait.”

“Holy shit. You’re Shirley Lovecraft. Catchy pseudo name. So, you’re the brains behind this witty madness. What an interesting turn of events if I do say so myself, a happy one.”

“Agreed. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. Kinda embarrassing.”

“Don’t. A perfect afternoon with someone who wasn’t using me for fame or money? Did I mention you look breathtaking today?”

Her cheeks fumed with heat stirring her butterflies back to life. Seb’s hand stilled on her waist unwilling to let go as they continued gazing at the other.

“Earth to Seb?

Seb broke eye contact first glancing over at David. Y/N was too busy memorizing the glimmer of his cobalt blue eyes.

“Yes, ah! So rude of me. Hello there, so great of you to squeeze me in. I appreciate it.”

He directed his attention towards Y/N once more leaning close to the shell of her ear; “Still on for drinks later?”

“Definitely.”

His wink sparked a jolt to her core leaving her weak in the knees. Somehow, some way, Y/N mustered enough confidence to walk without tripping. She glowed the whole walk to the elevator. Y/N pressed the button too lost in thought to hear the quiet ding of arrival strolling straight into a hard chest. Enormous hands grasped her shoulders; “Oh! Apologies Ms.”

“No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t paying atten—oh shit.”

Only one particularly charming British accent that could send a chill down her spine, one very distinguishable voice indeed.

“Y/N?”

Time froze icily still.

“What the fuck? Henry??”

~~~~~~~~~~

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#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry x y/n #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfic #my writing #henry cavill fluff #love on the line #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill oneshot #fanfic

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Earth is Space Australia, “Blood of the Gods.”

Humanity humanity is a strange thing,

She plays with the elements

Holds hands with the stars

And is rocked to sleep by the fury of nature

- Preface from the “Human Enigma” By Dr. Krill

Rain thundered down from above.

Rivulets of water as large as small waterfalls cascaded over the side of the room and onto the soft-sandy dirt below. The sky above was a deep cloudy grey shot through with veins of white sunshine managed to peek through the cloud cover. Dr Krill poked his head around the side of the door and out onto the porch.

Adam was sitting there in a T-shirt and shorts just on the front step not a few inches away from the cascading water. Little droplets of water had already beaded on his exposed skin.

“What are you doing out here?” Krill wondered stepping onto the porch and raising his voice just to be heard over the cascading water.

“I like watching the rain.” he motioned krill over with a hand, “Come, sit, watch with me.”

Krill was not so sure about all this. He didn’t see the appeal of water falling, but walked over anyway and floated on the step next to the human. Water still continued to pool in great puddles by the side of the house, and the air around them was unusually humid and hot.

The human tilted his head back and took a long deep breath, “Too bad you don’t have a sense of smell doctor.”

“Why?” He looked around, “Water doesn’t usually have a smell.”

“But RAIN does.” He took another deep breath, “Probably one of the best smells in the world…. It's comforting, refreshing, makes you feel like mother nature singing you to sleep with her most beautiful lullaby.”

“Waxing poetic this morning?’

“Days like this do that to me.”

“I thought you would hate the rain.”

The human turned his head to look at Krill frowning, almost as if he was offended by such a suggestion, “What would make you think that?”

“Can’t fly on a day like this.”

The human shook his head, “I COULD it would just be inadvisable. Besides flying and the rain like this are two different things. One is a release, and the other is just…. peaceful .”

Krill turned his head back to the cascading water and the darkening sky above. He supposed it made sense, the white noise mixed with the slight darkness would be enough to put a human to sleep. He had used some of the same principles in medical work to calm agitated humans

“Some scientists think our love of the smell of rain is an evolutionary response to how important rain is for humans.”

That too made sense. Humans were more than half water.

Adam closed his eyes, “The word for the smell of water is petrichor from the greek roots Petri which means stone and ichor which means blood of the gods.”

“That is… surprisingly poetic.”

“I always thought so.”

The human sighed and lay back onto porch letting the warm water cascade over his bare feet. Krill watched quietly as the human napped peacefully on the wooden planks of the front porch simply listening to the rain.

After a while, the human opened an eye and looked over at him, “There is one other great thing about warm rain.”

Krill sighed and waited for whatever the human was about to do or say that was completely dumb.

The human smiled at him, and as he waited the smile grew bigger and bigger until the human was grinning fit to burst.

“PUDDLES!”

Arms raised knees churning, the human raced out into the rain becoming immediately drenched in the torrential downpour. Krill hurried to the edge of the porch in shock and concern and bewildered fascination as the human danced around in the thundering rain.

His clothes were already soaked, his hair was plastered to his head, and water dripped down from his chin in a cascade.

He whooped with glee as he danced through the rain kicking up water with his feet from the large puddles that had accumulated in the yard. Some of the puddles were so deep they went up over his ankles, but the deeper the puddle the better as the human splaished and frolicked in the rain.

Dr. krill sat back and watched shaking his head as he watched the human playing out in the elements, seeming so happy and carefree as water poured from the sky. Mist rose up around him from the once hot pavement giving the air a sort of hazy quality.

He spun around in a wide circle amrs threw out to either side.

He paused and looked at Krill still standing under the protection of the roof. With one hand he waved him over. His T shirt and short were dark with water and sagged against his frame, sticking to his chest and legs, “Come on, its fun.”

Krill shook his head, “I think Observation is enough to sate my curiosity.”

“Oh come on Dr. Water wont kill you, and besides, there is no better way to learn than from experience.”

“I don’t think so.”

The human shook his head and trotted up the sidewalk. Krill tried to back away, but a hand passed through the torrent of water from the roof -- now spilling over the gutters-- and dragged him into the rain.

Krill was suddenly doused with a cascade of warm water that had him sputtering before he came out the other side.

Rain roared down from above spattering against his skin and rolling off his antenna.

It was surprisingly warm as it pooled around his feet.

The human tugged him along as he danced through the puddles sending waves of contaminated water up against krill’s chest.

The human tilted his head back, arms held out to either side allowing the rain to fall onto his exposed face.

Krill watched him for the longest time before finally tilting his head back allowing the rain to roll down over his face. Then, with some trepidation he held his arms out to either side.

The sensation was surprising. He suddenly felt as if he was falling upwards into the sky. Warm water trickled down his body and his mind stilled a bit as the rhythm of the rain took over. Rivulets of water ran from his hands and arms and off his legs onto the water beneath.

Beside him, the human was doing the same.

They were close to the porch now still looking up at the deafening sky.

Krill turned to look over at the human still playing in the puddles when he suddenly stopped and grew very still. Krill saw his eyes go wide as, around them, a sudden buzzing seemed to fill the air. It even began filtering in over his radio receptors.

The hairs on the human’s arms were standing up despite the rain.

Krill didn’t have time to react as suddenly the human launched forward tackling him back onto the porch, through a runnel of water. They hit the deck hard, rolling over the damp wood and onto the dry patch just beside the wall of the house. Krill yelped in surprise and pain ready to yell at the human for his strange behavior.

But the human had his ears covered and eyes shut.

Krill had no time to react as he was suddenly blinded by a horrific bolt of light so blinding it took up his entire vision, and then a massive repeating explosion that sent shockwaves through the air around them. The ground shook and sparks flew in every direction as the massive sound rubbled away into nothing leaving him dazed, blinded and reeling.

The human sat up from where he had landed on the deck.

“Hot damn! That was close.”

Krill turned his head to glower at the human as another distant bolt of lightning cut across the sky.

“What was that!”

“That my friend was a lightning strike.”

“A LIGHTNING STRIKE! A lightning strike! You mean to say you brought me out during an electrical storm! You wanted to play in the WATER during an ELECTRICAL STORM! I cannot believe you!”

“Hold on, now in my defence I didn’t KNOW it was an electrical storm.”

“Well you were WRONG and we almost DIED.”

“You were enjoying it before earth decided to be a bitch.”

Krill turned in an exasperated and panicked circle, “Is this something that you humans do a lot! Like intentionally go out into electrical storms and dance in the PUDDLES.”

The human shrugged, “Getting struck by lightning is a very rare occurrence, and I had no idea that one was coming to visit.”

“This planet with all of your unchecked electricity running rampant!”

“Well what do you want me to do, control the weather! Harness the elements, krill?”

Krill waved his hands over his head, “I am going inside. I should never have trusted your judgement about earth weather. Electrical storms! Honestly!” He turned around and marched inside, followed by the human a few moments later dripping wet and rolling his eyes just slightly.

Off in the distance, another crackle of lightning lit up the interior of the room sending a rumble through the ground. Krill toweled off while the human went to change his close.

The room darkneened, and suddenly there was another horrific flash of light and thunderous eruption. All the lights went out and krill squealed in shock hiding behind the couch as hail began pelting the windows now darkened.

Another crack of lightning sent stark white light to illuminate the front room before plunging them into blackness.

The hail grew heavier,

Krill curled up in the corner.

A light flicked on somewhere in the distance, and he looked up to find Adam walking down the hall spinning a little lever on a flashlight which grew brighter with every rotation of the elver.

“Pretty cool huh!”

“COOL IT JUST TOOK OUT THE POWER. WE ARE GOING TO DIE.”

“Calm down and take a chill pill my four legged friend. IT does this all the time, probably just hit a transformer or something. The power will be back on soon.” He set the flashlight down on the table beside Krill and went scrounging around in a nearby drawer, “We will be safe just as long as we stay away from the pipes and outlets if we can.”

He withdrew a small box, reaching inside and striking a small wooden stick against the outside of the box. There was a sudden flare of fire the stick sparked to life. Krill leaped back as the human held the little fire stick between his fingers, reaching into the drawer and lighting a string protruding from a block of wax. He set the block on a dish and then out on the table.

The flame flickered and cast orange light around the room as he walked over to sit next to krill leaning his head back, “That was always one of my favorite sounds.’

“What?” Kril Asked still staring at the open flame the human had left unattended on the table

“Thunder”

Krill glowered at him, “you like the sound of eminent destruction.”

He shrugged, “I don't know what to tell you. Its Calming.”

Kril was about to explode on the human about how NOT comforting the sound of thunder was when he raised a hand to silence him, “Well not when its right next to my head, but from a distance it is so…. remote , beautiful, and powerful. Lightning and thunder are the greatest unchecked power of nature, the bolts of which can burn hotter than the surface of the sun. He stood, walking over to a chair not far away and retrieving a blanket which he wrapped around himself before coming to sit back down, throwing his legs up on the couch as he leaned his head back to rest against a pillow.

He almost looked sleepy as the rain intensified.

Waffles walked over and jumped up to lay with him resting her head atop his chest with a soft grumble.

Krill stared at the both of them in near horror.

How was this ok?

Outside the window just before them, distant bolts of lightning cut purple and blue branches across the sky. In a way it reminded krill of human veins and arteries. As the candle flickered on the table, Krill’s mind was brought back to the word petrichor. Rock and the blood of the gods. In a surprisingly human turn of thought he mused at how the forks of lightning were like the veins of those gods that brought the rain leaving the human body a distant echo of something much greater.

He turned his head to the side, where the human now lay sleeping, wrapped like some kind of strange burrito with his head sticking out of one end and his feet sticking out the other.

Topped with a dog.

Krill sighed and rested in the darkness continuing to watch the storm as it passed overhead.

Beside him, the human hummed gently in his sleep once or twice.

Rocked to sleep by mother nature.

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #Earth is space Ausralia #earth is a deathworld

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uwuwriting · 4 years

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Can i request an Iida and Mirio (seperately) and your other boys? They have an s/o who's all quiet and shy and just does little touches to them and smile at them then leave? i'll leave the rest to you! （=´∇｀=）

Okay I’ve never written for Mirio before so I hope I do him justice. Plus mini random fact, I dislocated my knee today which is amazing. Quarantine is so fun in my household. Enjoy 💖💖.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mirio Togata

-Okay this boy is overly energetic.

-He is a literal ray of sunshine and all of his energy cannot be contained.

-You would think that his extroverted nature would be infectious.

-Lol no.

-Since your behavior is similar to Tama’s, Mirio doesn’t really mind your closed off personality.

-He knows that whenever you brush your hand against his, you’re feeling comfortable and safe.

-He will take those moments of safety to his advantage and grasp you hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

-The first time he did this you were shocked to say the least and super embarrassed.

-When you jerked slightly at his actions he panicked and quickly retaliated, letting go of you and immediately apologizing.

- “I’m so sorry sweets. I-I thought that you wanted to hold my hand, I’m so so sorry.”

-He won’t stop for a full 10 minutes.

-He will keep apologizing and promising that he won’t do it again.

-You had to reassure him that it was fine and that he just surprised you.

-That won’t cut it though.

-Your next course of action is to grab his hand and bring it to your lips for a quick and rather hesitant kiss.

-He stops dead in his on going monologue and looks at you, who is blushing like crazy at this point.

-From then on you two have a silent agreement every time you may initiate any sort of intimacy.

-He adores your shyness and believes that it’s absolutely adorable.

-He just wants to hug you so badly every time you stutter over your words when talking to someone.

-The sound of your voice is one of the most angelic sounds he has ever heard and will do anything to hear it.

-Your laugh sends him to heaven and your smile is pure bliss.

-Because of your quite nature, whenever he hears any of the above it’s a blessing and he could literally die a happy man.

-One of your habits that he enjoys, although he considers it a tease, is when you smile at him for across the room only to shy away when he’s ready to smile back.

-Your flustered face along with how your hair hides your eyes from him just does something to his heart.

-All in all he adores every aspect of you, every weird habit and every sign of shyness.

-He adores you.

Iida Tenya

-Having a s/o who doesn’t want PDA???

-Does he need hearing aid ‘cause that sounds like a freaking lie.

-He never expected to find someone who doesn’t want PDA since most partners seek affection.

-And that’s a sin.

-He doesn’t mind the fact that you shy away from most situations although he will give you a push when you need to toughen up and deal with a situation.

-He cares about you and doesn’t want to see you get hurt so whenever interaction is necessary he will help you out.

-Small touches and gestures usually fly over his head since he doesn’t pay much attention to these type of things.

-However, your smiles are a whole different scenario.

-When he catches you smiling at him he becomes a blushing mess and he WILL begin to stutter.

-He gets distracted so easily by your smiles, no matter how small or weak they are and he loves it.

-He will try to make you smile as often as possible only to become a puddle of softness when he succeeds.

-Your laughs on the other hand do something entirely different to him.

-He is so enamored by your laugh he can literally run into a wall.

-He becomes mesmerized be your laugh and how you look like a fallen angel,

-He swears his heart stops whenever he is the reason behind your laughter.

-It makes him feel all fuzzy and warm inside.

-Adores the fact that he can momentarily break through your shyness and see you being so careless and calm.

-It becomes his personal mission to make you smile or laugh at least twice a day.

-Holding hands comes later in your relationship and after a long and tiring conversation.

-He holds your hand only after receiving the correct messages from your small touches.

-He is more careful of your movements now and always looks out for that special touch that gives him the okay to wrap his hand around yours.

-Your shyness will never push him away.

-It will only make him want you even more.

Todoroki Shouto

-This boy is just as shy.

-Okay maybe not shy...dense is the better explanation for what he is.

-Because of his shitty childhood he remains reserved and a loner for a long time.

-So his social distancing is often confused with shyness.

-When you two get together, things are kinda stiff.

-You don’t make a move because you are you.

-And he has no idea whet he is SUPPOSED to do.

-It takes you guys some time to start being more affectionate.

-Your shy touches and small smiles are reciprocated by his own small gestures of affection.

-PDA is never on the table.

-Maybe hand holding after a long time of being together but other than that you prefer to keep your hands to yourselves.

-He melts when you hook your pinky with his.

-He gets all fuzzy and wants to pepper your face with kisses.

-He manages to hold back, until you have some alone time.

-Your smiles are angelic to his eyes.

-Your laugh kills him.

-And your blush is just the final blow to his heart.

-He just wants to keep you to himself.

-Wrap you up in a blanket in his dorm and cuddle you for eternity.

-His heart can’t handle how much he adores your every move and the fact that you shy away whenever you do something sweet or affectionate just sends him to cloud 9.

-He appreciates that you never push him to do things he doesn’t like and like taking things slow.

-Loves you to the moon and back.

-Just doesn’t really know how to show it.

Shinsou Hitoshi

-I think I say this every time I write about him.

-But

-THIS LITTLE SHIT.

-He’s a huge tease and the fact that you are shy makes his job ten times more entertaining.

-He will legit fluster you for the fun of it and won’t stop his ministrations until you’re a blushing mess.

-He won’t push you to your limits though.

-Keeps things reasonable and won’t make you uncomfortable in serious situations.

-Respects your wishes and if you tell him to stop doing something in particular he will.

-Never misses your touches, no matter how small they are.

-He likes how shy you are and how your touches are just so innocent and gentle.

-He waits for your approval in order to hold your hand and he doesn’t mind the wait.

-He believes that every step you make into being more comfortable around him is worth the wait and no amount of time will push him away from you.

-His teasing won’t seize but he will hold back when he sees that it’s becoming too much for you.

-Your smiles are absolute diamonds.

-They make his day every time he sees one of them

-Hasn’t slept? Smile at him on your way to class.

-Aizawa kicked his ass?Giggle at one of his stupid remarks.

-He treasures every moment he gets to see you being carefree.

-You are his everything and he will do anything to make you happy.

#shinsou x y/n #shinsou x you #my hero academia shinsou #shinsou fluff #shinsou x reader #mha mirio #mirio x oc #mirio x reader #mirio imagine #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shouto #todoroki x reader #mha todoroki #iida tenya #my hero academia iida #iida tenya x reader #iida x reader #bnha iida #bnha

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