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day-drawn-blog · 7 months

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Epilogue 1 : Just leave the flames and take a chance

To be with me tonight - Take my hand and hold it tight - Down by the River.

Pairing: Astarion x Reader. This is set in Act I.

Tags: angst/fluff some smut later

Part I : The outer layer. Mostly angst and jealousy.

Part II : Where you try to find meaning or draw boundaries.

Part III : maybe tonight I'll rest in peace.

Part IV : There is more to do and I still want to live.

Part V : our futures bound, our bodies known.

Part VI: These ain't my sins. I broke my chains.

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours.

Part VIII : Your blood like wine, invites me in.

Part IX : I welcome my sentence, to give you my penance

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die

Epilogue II : Moonlight burning the Flower

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The next morning, you walked out of your tent to find Astarion pouring over his book of necromancy. Not yet in armor, his casual clothes showed a bit of his chest. You were tempted to unbutton him a bit further, but reminded yourself not to take advantage of him.

You turned, and met Shadowheart.

"Good morning" she said. "I wonder what's in store for us today" she said in her usual tone of voice. You noticed no bitterness. Reassured, you broached ... "Shadowheart, I am sorry, for not telling you... about him... " - "Oh, it's alright. It wasn't your secret to tell. If anyone it should have been him. I can't say I am not disappointed in him."

You were silent. You didn't know what to say.

"But no matter. I am willing to let bygones be bygones. Bury the hatchet, so to speak" said Shadowheart, graciously. Before you could reply - Laezel cut in. "Why would you bury a weapon? I do not understand your kind or your ways, Shadowheart,". She rolled her eyes. "It's a phrase, Laezel". They both started bantering, leaving you to quietly walk away, in relief.

Everyone started on their way.

Astarion seemed really preoccupied and walked along with Gale in the back, talking about something. The party succeeded in defeating a Drow in the underdark that had yielded a bunch of precious magical items for everyone. The Myconid colony was celebrating that night. Everyone at camp was happy. The mushrooms were ... funny.

You were feeling quite happy and light hearted that night.

The warm glow of the fire, alcohol, laughter, music. All of your favorite things mixed together. You got ready for a night of merriment and walked to the crowd, joining Karlach and Laezel. They seemed to be relishing the battle they had that day, going over all the fun details together and exchanging their favorite bits.

Your eyes searched for Astarion.

Then you saw him and wished you hadn't looked for him. On the other side of the fire, he was busy talking to ... Shadowheart! Not just talking, but smiling. Conversing, drinking. You heard him laugh. You couldn't look away, because you couldn't believe what you saw. You thought they had fallen apart.

You thought he pledged himself to you.

Why then. What was the lie? Because there most definitely was one. So he still wanted her? Or he didn't want ... you .... and then you realized. Yes he had said he was yours. He was your ally, your friend. He was loyal to you ... but never once had he said he loved you! He had said his body belonged to you, but never his heart! His loyalty was yours, but not his feelings ...

You stared at him in disbelief of your own stupidity.

You had misunderstood everything he had said, and heard what you wanted to hear, what you hoped to hear. Your heart cried out in pain. You were happy in so long, but it was all made up. By you! You lied to yourself! You wove an intricate web of lies ...for yourself. Astarion met your eyes. You didn't look away. You looked at him, in anger, in hurt. Hoping to convey the betrayal you felt...

He smiled at you, and raised his glass.

Dig the dagger in deeper, why don't you, you thought. You looked away, and considered walking away to a desolate place. And then you stopped yourself. Enough running away. You deserve to be happy too. You decided to stay. You sought out some companions. Karlach and Laezel looked fun. Lets go join them. You walked to them and asked to partake of some alcohol. They gladly obliged.

You were determined to be happy.

Soon enough, you felt good. you felt even better when Laezel kissed you. You couldn't get away in time, but it felt hilarious. You did manage to stop her from any further advances though, to her slight disappointment, but she took it well. You cheeks flushed, you found yourself laughing a lot. At things that were not even that funny. You were happy. You felt grateful. You hoped he saw you.

Then you saw Wyll.

You went up to him, and asked for a dance, in your drunken state, and he obliged. He took your hands and gave you a twirl before leading you around putting your dancing skills to the test. Had you not been drunk you could have held your own, but now, drunk himself Wyll had to hold you by the waist many times to prevent you from falling over. Karlach wanted to join in, and pulled in Gale much to his awkwardness.

May I have a dance as well?

Was that Astarion you heard? Yes. He had walked up to you both. He was, obviously talking to you, trying to break you and Wyll up, maybe. But you were having none of that. "Yes, of course" you said, before pushing him to Wyll. "Here you go" and then walked off. Being drunk had its advantages, you could act outrageous and not have to face the responsibility. You did not look back to see what they did after.

Time to find the next object of interest.

Halsin! Ah, Halsin and his big strong arms. You felt like squeezing them. And you did. Somehow Shadowheart was around. And she said something in admiration of his big strong arms as well. Was she drunk too? Oh well, no matter. You giggled with her, as you both hung over Halsin's arms and found it ridiculously entertaining. Laezel quipped something funny but you couldn't hear her well.

Your eyes met Astarion across the fire.

Dammit. You didn't intent to do that. He was sitting down, keenly watching you. Had he finished dancing with Wyll? You wondered. None of your concern you thought and returned your attention to your drunken shenanigans. You decided to pester Gale after that. So you sat down next to him, and asked him about his former lover. You barely heard what he was saying. But you pretended to pay attention. Every now and your eyes wandered to Astarion, against your will.

He was looking at you, every single time.

Across the flickering flame. As he drunk from his cup every now and then. You looked at his handsome face. Having forgotten your resolve, as you rested your head on Gale's knees. Or was it Karlach's? Was Laezel trying to get her arms around you again, or was that Wyll. Your vision was a bit blurry at this point. You felt you could drift off to sleep. You didn't care who it was that would take you back to their tent that night. The more the merrier you thought and giggled.

It was hot. You should take your shirt off, you thought.

You proceeded to do just that. "Let me help you" - you heard a voice. Yes please, you felt a hand, "Alright - enough of that" you heard another pushing the first hand away. Why? It was hot. You tried taking your shirt off again. Then you felt being picked up. Oh good, someone is carrying you to bed, just as you had hoped. The night had proceeded just as you had hoped and wished.

"I got her" you heard a voice, possibly of the one carrying you.

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#astarion romance #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #astarion angst #baldurs gate 3 #fanfic #fluff #vampire #astarion fanfic

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slashmagpie · 7 months

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Blood & Snow

Pt. I

Directory: {Pt. II} {Pt. III} {Pt. IV} {Pt. V} {Pt. VI} {Pt. VII} {AO3}

Welcome to my @hermithorrorweek fic! I spent a while trying to figure out seven different fic concepts based on the prompt, and kept coming up blank, up until I decided to combine them all and write a single fic, with each prompt being the theme for a different chapter. Blood & Snow is the result, and at the time of posting it is not quite complete, but I'm excited to share it with you nonetheless. I'm hoping to post a chapter once per day, but later chapters may be delayed depending on how long it takes me to get them written. Some of this builds off concepts I played with in some of my earlier Decked Out 2 ficlets, which you can find in my writing tag. TWs for this chapter include: non-consensual body modification*, unreality*, panic attacks

I. GAME MECHANICS

Game design is simple, really.

Well, no, it’s difficult—but the principles behind it are simple. Make it fun. Make it challenging. Make it rewarding.

Decked Out 2 is a game.

To be more precise, it’s a long-running, deck-building, dungeon-crawling game. It’s competitive. It has rewards—bragging rights, for one. Trophies, for another. If you win, you can get crowns, and buy things to make you more powerful, to make the game more fun. You get frost embers, which are used to build the deck, and—

Clank is Decked Out’s central mechanic. Trigger a shrieker, generate clank. Easy as that. Taking your artefact will also generate clank, because it angers the spirits of the dungeon. That’s another important thing about game design: atmosphere. Design. Having something that feels cohesive. So—no, max clank isn’t quite as dangerous as it should be, but very few mobs would work to replace the vex, because, well, they’re not the spirits of the dungeon, and—

Hazard is generated every thirty-seven seconds, roughly. It used to be thirty, but that lined up with card draws, and the sound cues were hard to keep track of. So. Hazard is generated every thirty-seven seconds, roughly. Hazard makes the dungeon more dangerous to traverse, by closing doors, raising pathways, and otherwise making certain routes more dangerous or downright impossible to cross. People underestimate hazard at first, but quickly find out that hazard kills. When clank maxes out, that turns into hazard too, because max clank wasn’t dangerous enough by itself, because the vexes aren’t doing their damn jobs—

There were two older systems that got replaced. Not a lot of people know that. Focus could be built up, would synergise with other cards, but it was just—it wasn’t working. It got reworked. No one would miss it. Delve was a difficulty setting, but it was dumb, just press a button to choose your difficulty, that works way better, and—

Game design is simple, really.

Decked Out is not a game.

Had it ever been a game? In its first iteration, back in season seven, had it hungered the way it does now? Had it slept, slumbering beneath the earth, soaking in blood that would slowly, slowly bring it to life? When the idea had wormed its way into Tango’s head, a sequel—had that been his own thought? Does it matter if it was?

He’d certainly thought it was. Began drafting up plans, re-evaluating what he’d done in the past and putting better spins on them. Decked Out 2 would be huge, would be the biggest project he’d ever worked on, but it wouldn’t take that long. Surely.

…Thirteen months later, Decked Out 2 opened its doors.

Thirteen months. It had started as a hole, as many things do. A hole, a build, a plan, a citadel—Tango had thrown himself into it like he would with any huge project. And at first it had been—it had been a project. A build, a game. A giant hole filled with promise. A castle built in a week. Just Hermitcraft things. The usual.

When had it started? When he’d dug, and dug, for hours and hours upon end? When he’d carved jagged-looking scars into the landscape and dragged the citadel up from them? When he’d started building level one? When he’d begun assembling the redstone? When the ravagers and wardens began to roam its halls? When did Decked Out come alive?

…Had it always been alive?

Okay, better question: when did—

A frozen shard is placed into the barrel. The door lights up, sounds play. The door opens. The hermit—Joe?—begins to take off their armour and items and set up the game. A difficulty button is pressed. A shulker is placed into its slot. The cards begin to filter through the system. A minecart ride, and a pressure plate—

Decked Out turns on.

The Dungeon watches carefully, hungrily. A shrieker triggers. A hazard door closes. The game is running, the game is alive, the game is always alive—

The Dungeon Master floats, untethered, bodiless, watching, speaking, unheard, unseen. His body stands in the dark, empty, eyes sightless and lungs unbreathing. Why would he need to breathe? Dungeons don’t need to breathe, after all. Games don’t need to breathe. And Decked Out isn’t a game, not really, but it still works on principles of game design, and none of those principles require the game to breathe.

So the Dungeon watches, and the Dungeon Master watches, and Joe runs straight into the blood-stained horns of a ravager, and—

And—

Tango tries to blink. To breathe. A hazard door slams open and closed. The wires are crossed, that’s not—he needs to go—an attempt to step forward dispenses a stack of frost embers into the dungeon. They’re not supposed to do that. That’s a bug, he needs to fix—

He needs his hands—

Stone walls aren’t fingers, but they flex all the same, groaning under the strain—

There’s an itching in his legs. Skulk creeps up the walls. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This isn’t—

It’s dark. A warden sniffs. A shrieker howls. Stone becomes sinew becomes skulk becomes shadow becomes smoke becomes a soul. The Dungeon Master wrenches open his sightless eyes, and the Dungeon sees—

(Buildings aren’t meant to have panic attacks. Neither are dungeons. Nor games. But Decked Out is not a game, never really has been, and Tango—)

Joe and Hypno stare in bafflement at the flickering availability metre outside of the dungeon. “Tango, fix your game!” Hypno cries, and—

Ha.

Here’s a better question: when did Tango become Decked Out?

#magpie feather quill #hermitcraft #fanfiction #hermithorrorweek2023 #the *s next to the trigger warnings are because those are the closest words i can think of to describe what is happening #but they're like. not totally right?#i think that if you have issues with ncbm or unreality then you should be careful engaging with this chapter #but i wouldn't say that this chapter necessarily contains ncbm or unreality #idk. it's weird.#also i will update the directory links when i post new chapters lmao

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keydekyie · 10 months

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Sorry if this was asked already, what inspired you to make TMATB?

ok so... this got a little long. No surprises there lmao.

TL;DR:

I was a messed up bitey little monster kid and I wanted to write a story about a monster and a human who start out as enemies but come to love each other and rescue each other and go on adventures and maybe just maybe change the world. ♥️

long version below:

this led me to go crack open my old sketchbooks from around early 2012 to 2013 to find my first drawings of Kanai, and the drawings of a bunch of sphinxlike monstery creatures I know precluded them, but it doesn't seem like I have those sketchbooks with me. :( I only have a couple here in Georgia, the rest are in my mom's basement in Colorado.

But really inspiration goes back further than that. Ever since I was little I've always been frustrated that the monsters in stories seemed to always be either scary and irredeemably evil, or misunderstood babus who wouldn't hurt a fly, with no in-between. It bothered me because I knew I was kind of a messed up little monster of a kid (in the throes of undiagnosed adhd, having emotional breakdowns, biting people, not having many friends, going to the principle's office a lot, etc) but I didn't want to be bad. I wanted to be good, I wanted to be gentle and nice and make friends and be understood the way the dopey-good monsters in the stories were. But I didn't relate to them. I bit people and dug in the dirt and talked to my cats.

So I'd always wanted a story where the monster was like that: nasty and scary and a little bad, the way any person could be, but ultimately just... a person. A person who craves tenderness and understanding and wants to do the right thing even if they don't really know what that means, but also maybe bites sometimes and digs in the dirt.

And I wanted a story about someone who could relate to and come to love that monster, despite that being the objectively dangerous and difficult thing to do. I wanted a love story, but I didn't want it to be easy, with a magic ending where the monster gets to be human. I wanted the stakes to be high, I wanted the climb to be steep, and I wanted the payoff to be satisfying.

So at the end of high school in 2012 (when I was mostly obsessing over another story of mine called Divergence, which is a whole other enormous can of worms) I was suddenly driven to draw out basically the whole kidnapping scene from book I in comic form:

I can't share the whole thing because it's, like... hideously bad and not canon anymore anyway, but it was the start of the whole thing. Kanai were more troll-like. It wasn't until a year later when I got into a sphinx kick that they turned into bear-sphinxes.

On top of what I said earlier, I just really loved the idea of putting the monster in a tricky ethical predicament, rather than the "hero." Why should the hero always get to be the one faced with moral dilemmas? So I made the monster have to choose: A) eat the human he's befriended and be accepted by society or B) spare the human and be rejected by society. Everything else followed from that. In book II I have Kaelin wrestle with having befriended a man-eating monster, in book III Ruyak is having to come to terms with being a man-eating monster, and in book IV they're going to have to face a world that they've both outgrown, and that doesn't have a place for them anymore.

So that'll be fun.

#tmatb #ask #grace your face #this was a deep dive whoops #bet you weren't expecting that #I guess this is what the kids these days call Lore

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melancholiaenthroned · 8 months

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amanda saw for the ask game :))

yayyyy tyyy<333

first impression: ok full disclosure i did NOT like saw the first time i saw it LOL. i thought adam was annoying and the bathroom was yucky and it was too slow paced. BUT i did like amanda she was like the redeeming quality to me. and once i watched saw ii i was completely sucked in she was everything to me. the way she claws at her face when she first wakes up like shes expecting the bear trap is such an acting moment of all time.

impression now: i love her so much shes the best apprentice her character is everything to me. i dont know what to say that hasnt been said before but i guess my most recent impression of her was in saw x and i just felt like her character, at the state in between saw and saw ii, was so well written. like her dependence on john but her reluctance to hurt people who she doesnt think fully deserve it... god... you can see the doubts starting to form like why are we doing this am i fixed is this what being fixed feels like... and shes so so scared of losing him... godddd. god. and her dykey outfit... i had some issues w saw x amanda was not one of them

favorite moment: DIFFICULT QUESTION hmmm all her moments r so good. i think the one that makes me craziest is i forget the exact line but in saw iii she tells lynn smth like "sure u can kill me but when john heres me cry out hell come running for me and rip off his heart monitor and then ull die" but later when shes bleeding out she looks up at john and reaches out for him and he just looks down at her and tells her its her destiny. COMPLETELY FUCKED. also obviously "fix me" and you know what can i just list all of saw iii as my favorite moment.

idea for a story: god. ok. like actual film wise i think we should move on from john kramer forever and honestly like over the course of the 4 movies shes in weve gotten a pretty good look at amandas character like it feels like theres limited room to fit in a new story. theres small things id like to see, more of her interacting and butting heads w the othe apprentices, but nothing like huge within canon bc i feel like it would throw off her arc. that being said idk how it would fit into a film but i would like to see her almost relapse post saw ii but discover that shes developed a fear of needles and instead of taking this as like. a fucked up thing. she tries to reframe it as like proof that traps work like she Is Fixed. but obviously this is right before saw iii and shes wavering but shes trying to tell herself that. developing ptsd over being thrown into a pit of needles. was a good thing<3

unpopular opinion: i dont rlly ship her and gabriela i see gabriela very much as a mirror of amanda but i dont rlly think its valuable or interesting to interpret that relationship as romantic SORRY

favorite relationship: ive said it before she and lynn have the craziest chemistry of any couple in all the saw movies like what was in the water on set that made them act that way... my only wish is that more fans made them insane rather then like. in lynn lives aus where theyre cute and healing together like no. they wouldnt do that. and then of relationships in canon obviously her and john have the most interesting and tragic thing going on (to be clear i dont mean relationships as in romantic here) but if i think about that too long ill start crying so instead lets just remember her and lynns crazy dyke swag.

favorite headcanon: oughh god idk... shes such a complete and basically perfect character to me i dont have a lot of big ideas about her outside of whats shown... like i said i think she has a phobia of needles after saw ii that she pushes through for the sake of traps that require it and then immediately goes and like throws up after. i think she bites her hand when shes really angry and sometimes draws blood. i think it reminds her of the beartrap and i think she pretends that gives her comfort. and i think at some point pre saw she dated the same vegan feminist punk that adam did<3

#tysm god i love her so bad i love talking about her #saw #poison.txt #ask

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globalphotoeditin · 1 year

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Let’s make things a little easier to understand.

a. Face blemishes, which might make the respective faces appear brighter.

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painterslogbook · 1 year

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DAY 11 (16th jan)

1. Wow I really have started the grisaille for the 'lethargy', and it's great that I did. I am glad that I am starting with an underpainting. The piece is too big to control otherwise. I would've liked to have the placement a little different so that more of the purple blanket could be fitted into the frame, but I had to compromise to keep the face big enough to work with. Also, the figure had to be scaled according to the size of the bed not to look comical. Grisaille will take several days, I recon. That's fine. I want to fine- tune the textiles as close as possible. Not necessarily the face, though the planes will be clarified before I go in with oil.

I decided against starting oil with the study because of organization. El Greco is still in focus but I will wait a little longer before starting the messy oil. 1 hour of oil would have been too costly (mostly time-wise), considering that I need to wash the brushes with solvent. When I do start the oil I'll increase the time up to 2 hours. I primed 3 sheets as preparation for monochrome underpaintings, and I have some in store under the bed somewhere. I am planning on 5-10 underpaintings which will be worked over with oil later when the weather warms up.

Aron2 challenges me because I keep reverting back to structure instead of leaning on something else. Maybe I should recall memories of him? Now that it became more concrete sqinting will help to determine better proportions.

It was diifcult to convince myself to start drawing at 7 pm. But against all odds I somehow succeeded! It's the same phenomenon as with training: if I let myself start to wonder wether I am in the mood or not I've lost the battle. If I can froce myself to start, however, only 5 minutes of endurance is enough to get the engine working. I should have taken progress photos ofc. I put a filter on the photo, it's actually in pencil, but I like the black pen effect.

I dream of being an obsessed, posessed artist.

2. Waking up at 6 is the only way to ensure that I can start at 8.am. Excercise helps to give me energy.

3. Schedule moved to the afternoon!!!

(I) continue grisaille for lethargy. Check form frequently by stepping back or taking wip photo

(II) El Greco underpainting or Kassai colour study

(III) try to finish Aron2 and pick a new printed reference/ small photo of the two of us

(IV) continue and finish érckorszak(pencil) AFTER: soldier figure with pen or monochrome composition study/

#art diary #art progress

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aeonsforever · 2 years

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Razra

I feel as though Razra is probably the hardest character in the entire game to play optimally. The sheer amount of options that she has means that she can build in incredibly divergent directions, by being able to support her allies she should be communicating with her team and having some level of awareness of what everyone else's deck needs, her upgrades combo with one another in strange ways, and her deck and breach setup are intrinsically awkward. Let's start with her breaches. They are very subpar overall, and both her III and IV breach being in the right position makes it very hard to open up those breaches, but what I find most awkward is actually her II breach. It costs 4 aether to open that breach, but neither of her two opening hands naturally have 4 aether. If she can hold a crystal into turn 2, it's possible for her to open her II breach then, but I find that unless I'm buying a card on turn 1 with that 2 aether that it's not really worth it. Now to get into her five unique signature cards. Rip, Help! Rip, Help! just gets charges. It's quite "powerful", having two copies and quickly generating charges, but not doing anything else makes Razra fall behind in the early game. It's more than possible to just get a charge sink for Razra and just ignoring the rest of her upgrades. Rip, Go! Rip, Go! combines some scaling and output, however it's essentially "blank" for Razra. Getting a few focuses for allies can really catapult their midgame, and simply having the knowledge that Razra will focus their breaches a few times can allow them to more aggressively purchase spells. That charge is also very relevant, of course, but very contextual based on your ally. I find that Rip, Go! is an easy to use value engine that is the default go-to if I don't have a specific plan for Rip, Fetch! Rip, Fetch! Rip, Fetch! is pure scaling. It will destroy your cards and focus your breaches, but as previously mentioned since it is harder to open her II breach Rip, Fetch! is intrinsically hard to use. It would of course be preferable if the focuses happened on her III breach, and I find that using Rip, Fetch! to focus her II breach feels really bad. Also, focusing Razra's breaches is a bit weaker as her breaches will take a long time to open. In the general case, I find Rip, Fetch to be less raw value than Rip, Go!, but both of its effects are very synergistic with Rip, Attack!. Rip, Eat! Rip, Eat! is quite awkward I've found. It's main benefit is just generating two charges, but that destroy in hand is just hard to use to good effect. Destruction is good early on, but since this card takes eight whole charges to get online chances are this card isn't coming early enough for that destroy to be very good. The main draw to this card is the two charges, and of course that's very dependent on what your ally is doing, but if it's possible to get this card very early the destroy can be a decent part of its value. Rip, Attack! Rip, Attack! is a card that I have found to be very easy to underestimate. Instacasting two spells, letting an ally prepare a spell (which lets them cycle it back faster), and dealing an extra two damage is a smorgasbord of small effects that, if you're able to use every piece of it well, can be an absolutely absurd amount of value. Getting two instacasts is best when Razra is casting two of her own powerful spells, instantly cycling them back into the deck. It also works best if her III or IV breach is opened, letting her get more uses of that + damage breach. Hopefully, your allies bought enough spells to utilize that prepare well. The synergy between Rip, Fetch! and Rip, Attack! is very notable. Cycling cards back into the deck is best when the deck is thin. Optimistically, it would be possible to cycle back two high quality spells every single turn in a very thin deck, even though trying to get it every other turn is more realistic and still quite good. Furthermore, opening breaches as previously mentioned is really good with instacast. Being fully aware of all the build options for Razra, all the interactions between her pieces, all of her allies and the market and then making an optimal game plan is always incredibly complicated to navigate. As I said, I think she's one of the hardest mages to play optimally, and her ability being "slow" means that it's important to keep the long term in mind rather than solving problems as they show up. I still feel as though I'm a bit weak with Razra overall, but that may be because of me misplaying rather than due to her kit. She has such incredibly unique and powerful options, but she can be a bit slow. As I've spent more time playing Razra I can feel myself getting better with her, and often her weakest games are due to me pigeonholing myself into a certain idea instead of being honest and realistic with what Razra can and should be doing in the context of the game.

#Aeon's End #Aeons End #Mage #Into the Wilds #Daily Discussion

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dadbodosamu · 3 years

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only you || part iii

Stepdad Osamu x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: shower sex, oral (m receiving), snowballing, semi-public sex, mild degradation, spit, squirting, daddy kink

4.1k words

also i forgot to tag them in the last part but thanks to @waka-chan-out and @vanilleswtmacaron for beta reading this!!

part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v || part vi || extras || only you, too

In the morning, Osamu was once again sliding into your bed. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and hummed in your ear as he settled down.

“Good morning, baby,” he muttered.

“Morning,” you mumbled, shimmying closer to him. You yawned and rolled to face him.

“Beautiful,” Osamu said, kissing your forehead. You smiled tiredly.

“Handsome,” you said, kissing his nose.

“Shower with me?” He asked. You hummed in agreement. He rolled you out of the bed, pulling you into your attached bathroom.

You pushed your shorts down to your ankles as Osamu pulled your shirt off.

“Cute,” he said, pinching your nipple playfully.

“We should start the shower,” you mumbled as Osamu leaned down in front of you.

“Mhmm,” he hummed, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples.

“Samu,” you breathed as he sucked at your nipple.

“Just can’t get enough of ya,” he mumbled against your skin.

You tangled your fingers in his hair as he swapped over to your other nipple.

“Yer sweet, lil’ body, so responsive,” Osamu said as your back arched, pushing your breasts into his face.

You pulled him up by his hair to press your lips together. He stood up, lifting you by your thighs. You wrapped your legs around him as he pushed you against the shower wall.

“Samu,” you moaned. You tugged his hair as he kissed down your neck. “No-no bruises.”

“Just blame Bokuto again,” he mumbled, sucking at your skin.

“At least leave them where I can hide them,” you said. He moved lower, kissing and biting over your breasts.

Osamu pulled back as you whined.

“Shower,” he said. You sighed as you stepped out of the shower and watched as Osamu started the water. Once the water had warmed up, you stepped under the water flow.

“How can ya stand it that hot?” Osamu complained, following you under the water. He hissed as the water hit his back and quickly spun you around so the water was hitting your back. You laughed.

“Just turn it down, babe,” you giggled, turning the cold water up.

“Just turn it down, babe,” he mocked, caging you against the shower wall. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Imitation is the highest form of flattery,” you said, pecking his lips.

He moved in closer to you, deepening the kiss. He lifted you by your thighs, wrapping your legs around him as the warm water coated your body.

“Samu, don’t drop me,” you mumbled against his lips. He lined up his cock with your entrance, teasing you with just the tip.

“Not gonna drop ya, princess,” he grunted. His cock slid into you slowly, drawing a long, low moan from your lips.

“Samu,” you moaned, tightening your legs around him. He rolled his hips against yours, forcing his cock deeper.

“Feels good, baby?” Osamu asked. “Feels so good havin’ ya wrapped around my cock, princess.”

“Feels good having you in me, daddy,” you said, digging your nails into Osamu’s skin.

“Ah, no marks, princess,” Osamu said, smiling at you teasingly. You kissed him deeply.

“Just not where they can show,” you said, pulling away from him. He buried his face in your neck and smiled against your skin. He snapped his hips up making you moan loudly.

“Samu, please,” you moaned, moving your hips against his. “Wanna cum.”

He reached between you and rubbed your clit in time with his slow thrusts.

“Not stopping you,” he said. You cried out as your stomach tightened.

“Samu, please!” You cried. “Harder please!”

Osamu rubbed your clit furiously as your walls clenched around him.

“Come on, baby,” he grunted. “Cum around daddy’s cock.”

Your stomach tightened and your walls fluttered as your juices squirted out.

“Cum in me, please, daddy,” you begged as you gushed around him. “Want you to breed me.”

“Fuck,” Osamu hissed as his cock twitched in you. “Want my babies, huh? Want me to knock ya up?”

You nodded as you pressed your chest against his. “Wanna make you a daddy.” Osamu groaned as he emptied his balls into your cunt.

“Fuck, yer too much for me, princess,” Osamu breathed, dick falling limply from you. You laughed as his cum leaked from your hole.

“Old man,” you teased as Osamu gently set you on your feet.

“Only four years older than ya, princess,” Osamu said, pecking your lips.

You two showered quickly after that as the water continued to cool down. By the time you were stepping out, you were shivering from the cold water.

“Aw, come here, baby,” Osamu said, wrapping a towel around you and pulling you against his body. “Let me warm ya up.”

“Th-thanks,” you stuttered, shivering in his arms.

“Y/n!” You jumped as your mom’s voice rang out. You pushed away from Osamu, stepping into your room where your mom was poking her head in from the hallway.

“Mom! Hi!” You exclaimed, rushing over to stop her from coming all the way in. “What are you doing here, shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Had to come back and grab my phone,” she said. “Where’s Osamu? His phone’s in our bedroom but I don’t see him anywhere.”

“I think he said he had to run by the restaurant,” you said. “Must’ve forgotten his phone.”

“Oh, okay,” she said. “Well, I’m going to take the car to work, so let Osamu know when he gets back.”

“No problem,” you said.

“Bye, sweetie, love you,” she called, walking down the hallway.

“Love you, too,” you called after her. You waited until you heard the car pull away before running back to the bathroom where Osamu was standing, looking like he’d had the most silent panic attack ever.

“She’s gone,” you breathed. “That was a close one.”

Osamu let out a long breath, his whole body relaxing.

“A close one,” he laughed, coldly. “My whole life flashed before my eyes.”

“Tell me about it,” you said. “I thought she was going to come in.”

“We have to start being more careful,” Osamu said. You nodded in agreement.

“Come on, let’s just get ready, the game’s soon,” you said. You smacked Osamu’s ass as he walked past you.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Osamu said. You smirked at him as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Who says I can’t finish it?”

“If we miss the subway, I’m going to cry,” you threatened as Osamu slowly got dressed. “Do you want me to cry?”

“I dunno, are you a cute cryer?” He asked, going through his closet to find a shirt.

“I won’t be if we miss the game,” you said, laying back on Osamu’s bed.

“Black or white?” Osamu asked, holding up two Onigiri Miya shirts.

“Samu,” you whined. “They’re the same shirt!”

“Black or white?” He asked again. You huffed.

“Black,” you said. “Do you only own Onigiri Miya shirts?”

“Pretty much,” Osamu said, shrugging. He tugged on the shirt and held his hand out for you. You grabbed it and let him pull you into a sitting up position. “Are you sure you don’t want to wear something else?”

You smiled widely as you smoothed down your sundress. “How else am I going to seduce Bokkun to join us for dinner?”

“I’ll kill him if he looks at you for more than three seconds,” Osamu said, pulling you up to your feet. His arms wrapped around you and he held you tightly against his body. “Also, no cutesie nicknames for him.”

“You do know I have to make it believable that he and I hooked up, right?” You asked.

“Just tell him ya hooked up with someone yer mom won’t approve of, which ya did, and that ya lied to her about who it was, which ya did,” Osamu said. “The best lies are ones that hold a touch of truth.”

“Oh and you’d know all about this, how, Mr. Lies?” You asked, looking up at him.

“I’ve been avoiding fucking my wife for a week,” Osamu said. “I know how to lie.”

“I’ll remember that,” you said.

“I would never lie to ya, baby,” Osamu said, pecking your lips.

“Better not,” you mumbled, kissing him again. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.”

Osamu’s hand was permanently pulling your dress down as the two of you travelled to the game. At the game, Osamu offered his hoodie to drape over your bare knees after you took a seat.

“Samu, stop,” you hissed as he tugged your dress down in a vain attempt to cover your knees as you sat. “I’m going to end up flashing everyone here my boobs.”

“Well now I have a new fear,” he said, thrusting his hoodie into your arms. “Aren’t ya cold? Put my hoodie on.”

“Will you leave me alone and let me watch the game if I put the hoodie on?” You asked. He nodded, scowling at a guy that had glanced at you a little too long.

You pulled the hoodie on, content as you watched the game, if not a little warm.

After the game, which MSBY had won 3-1 over the Adlers, you let Osamu lead you down to the court where the boys were all excited to see you.

“Y/n! Did you see my last spike?!” Bokuto exclaimed, spinning you around in a tight hug.

“You were amazing! All of you!” You exclaimed once he sat you down.

“Y/n, this is our captain, Meian Shugo,” Sakusa said, introducing you to their tall, handsome captain.

“This is Y/n, my new niece!” Atsumu exclaimed, tossing his arm over your shoulders.

“L/n Y/n, I’m a big fan,” you said, bowing lowly to him. “It’s an honour to meet you.”

“You’re the setter that these guys won’t stop talking about,” Meian said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You smiled widely as the guys made their way to the locker rooms and Osamu was dragging you through hallway after hallway until he shoved you into a supply closet and pushed you down to your knees.

“Ya look so fuckin’ hot wearin’ my clothes,” Osamu said, undoing his jeans and tugging them down. “I really, really want ya suckin’ my cock, right now.”

You wasted no time, immediately taking the pierced tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the cool, metal of his piercing.

“Bokuto, the fuckin’ idiot, flashed everyone your cute lil’ lace panties,” Osamu growled, tangling his fingers in your hair. “Thought Hinata was gonna cum in his shorts.”

You moaned around him.

“Oh, ya like that? Hinata’s probably jerkin’ his cock right now, jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout yer lil white, lace panties, barely hidden under yer lil dress,” Osamu said, pushing your head down, forcing more of his cock in your mouth. You moaned again, the vibrations drawing a low moan from Osamu’s throat. “S’too bad that’s all he’s ever gonna get. Yer my lil cock whore, isn’t that right, baby?”

You hummed as he let your head up for you to take a breath. As soon as oxygen filled your lungs, Osamu was forcing you back down on his cock.

“Come on, suck my cock, princess,” he groaned. “Before I fuck yer throat.”

You hollowed your cheeks and forced yourself to take more of his cock down your throat. The corners of your lips burned with the stretch and you forced the urge to gag down as you bobbed your head on his cock.

“Fuck, good girl, takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” Osamu groaned. “Should cum on yer fuckin’ face, just to show everyone who ya belong to.”

You clenched your thighs together as you pulled back and teased his piercing with your tongue.

“Don’t swallow,” Osamu choked out as his cock twitched in your mouth. “Hold it in your mouth.”

You hummed as his cock twitched again.

“Fuck,” he moaned, throatily, as he spilled into your mouth. Your eyes watered as salty cum filled your mouth and leaked down your chin.

“Come ‘ere,” Osamu said, pulling you up to your feet. He kissed you deeply. You pushed the cum into his mouth and grinned when he pulled back. “Open.”

Your mouth fell open and you moaned as he spat his cum back onto your waiting tongue.

“Swallow,” he mumbled, watching as his cum dripped from your tongue. You swallowed and opened your mouth to show him. “Good girl.”

Osamu pulled his hoodie off of you and wiped your chin clean with it before folding it over his arm.

“Come on, let’s go before they start wondering where we are,” Osamu said, tugging you out of the closet.

“We still have to talk to Bokkun,” you said, following Osamu closely.

“Talk to Bokuto about what?”

You jumped nearly in Osamu’s arms when you heard Atsumu from behind you.

“Tsumu! How long have you been there?!” You exclaimed, turning on your heel to face him.

“Long enough,” Atsumu said. He reached out and wiped at your chin with his thumb. “Heard something about ‘cumming on yer face to show who ya belong to’. Didn’t think he’d actually do it.” Atsumu casually wiped his thumb on his jeans.

“We can explain,” Osamu said.

“Yer fucking yer stepdaughter,” Atsumu said, crossing his arms.

“I, um, yeah, I guess so,” Osamu said, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s more than that, Tsumu.”

“A whole affair,” Atsumu said.

“You can’t tell my mom!” You exclaimed. “I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” Atsumu asked, smirking.

“I’ll kill ya,” Osamu threatened.

“Chill out, it was a joke,” Atsumu said, holding his hands up. “Besides, I don’t plan on telling her. Frankly, I don’t care.”

“Ya want something,” Osamu said, narrowing his eyes at Atsumu.

“Let me have a turn,” Atsumu said. Osamu stepped in front of you, pushing you behind him.

“I wasn’t joking when I said I’d kill ya,” Osamu said. “We’ve shared in the past but Y/n is different.”

“Osamu,” you cooed.

“I really, really like her,” Osamu said, ignoring you. “Like, it could be love one day.”

You melted a little. Your face softened and you hugged your arms around Osamu’s waist.

“Fine, fine,” Atsumu said. “I won’t say anything. I’ll even be yer cover.”

“What do you want?” Osamu asked.

“Free food whenever I go to any Onigiri Miya,” Atsumu said. “And maybe just one kiss.”

“Free food for a year and a kiss on the cheek,” Osamu bargained.

“Free food for a year and a real kiss,” Atsumu said. “With tongue.”

“What are we, in high school?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Free food for two years and a peck,” Osamu said. “And I won’t even kick ya after the kiss.”

“Or hit me at all!” Atsumu said.

“Fine,” Osamu said.

“Deal,” Atsumu said, smirking. “Come ‘ere, doll.”

Osamu stepped to the side, letting you move closer to Atsumu.

“No tongue,” you warned, before leaning in. Atsumu swiped his tongue along your bottom lip as you kissed him. You stomped his foot as you jerked away.

“Worth it,” Atsumu said, smiling victoriously.

“Shut up,” you said as Osamu wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He kissed your temple.

“Hope my cum tastes good,” Osamu said, smirking wickedly. Atsumu’s face dropped as he gagged.

“Ew! Gross, I demand a redo after she brushes her teeth!” Atsumu exclaimed, following after the two of you. You and Osamu laughed loudly as he complained behind you.

“Bokuto couldn’t make it?” Your mom asked as she sat the food on the table.

“That’s why we brought Atsumu to replace him,” you said, smiling widely.

Atsumu smiled at your mom wryly. “M/n,” he said.

“Atsumu,” your mom said, barely containing her glare. “I’m so glad you could come.”

“I’m sure,” Atsumu said.

You and Osamu awkwardly loaded food onto your plates as your mom and Atsumu glared at each other.

“So, how was work?” You asked.

“Oh, it’s terrible!” Your mom exclaimed. “Just the worst!”

“Oh? What happened?” Osamu asked, slurping up his soup.

“I have to work in Tokyo for the next week!” Your mom said. You bit your lip to keep from smiling.

“Oh, no! That’s awful,” you said. “But Tokyo, that’s nice.”

“It’s just now I really won’t get to see you,” your mom said, pouting.

“Maybe I could extend my trip a little,” you said. “That way when you get back we can still have a day or two just us.”

“Oh, as long as Osamu doesn’t mind having you here,” your mom said.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Osamu said. “This is her house, too.”

“Okay, then, that’s settled! We have to have a girls day when I get back,” your mom said. “I feel like I’ve just been pawning you off on Osamu this whole week.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t mind,” Atsumu snarked. You kicked him in the shin.

“I don’t mind,” Osamu said. “It’s father daughter bonding.”

“Oh, it’s bonding all right,” Atsumu muttered. You kicked him again. He hissed in pain.

“What was that?” Your mom asked.

“Just said that bonding is nice,” Atsumu said.

“So, when do you leave?” You asked.

“Tomorrow morning, around 5,” she said. “Way before you two will be up.”

“Are you taking the train?” Osamu asked. Your mom shook her head.

“I’m taking the car, hope you don’t mind,” she said.

“It’s fine, we’ll probably just hang around here, anyway,” Osamu said.

Atsumu smirked as he sipped his tea.

“We have that pick up game later this week,” you said. “With Bokkun, Hinata, and Sakusa.”

“It’ll be great, we’re gonna crush you,” Atsumu said.

“You don’t even know the teams yet,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Me, Omi-kun, and Shoyo versus ya, Samu, and Bokuto,” he said.

“That’s not fair! You three are all professionals! You take Samu!” You exclaimed.

“Ya don’t want me on yer team? I’m hurt,” Osamu said, clutching his heart.

“Against three pros? No, I don’t want you on my team,” you said. “I want Sho-kun!”

“Rock, paper, scissors, loser gets Samu,” Atsumu said, making a fist.

Your mom laughed as Osamu gasped in offense.

“Sorry, Samu, but I want to win tomorrow,” you said, holding up a fist.

In the end, Atsumu ended up stuck with Osamu and was still complaining when he left.

“Bye, Mom,” you mumbled tiredly as your mom packed her bags in the car.

“Bye, sweetie,” she said, hugging you tightly. “Tell Osamu I said bye.”

“I will,” you said. As she pulled off, you walked back into the house. You padded down the hallway and almost turned into your room when you remembered Osamu was currently laying down all alone.

You turned into his room and carefully crawled into his arms.

“Good morning, baby,” he mumbled, pulling you closer to him.

“Morning, daddy,” you said. You smirked as his eyes opened slightly.

“Oh?” He questioned. You rolled him over to his back and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.

“Wanna feel you,” you mumbled, rolling your hips against his.

“G’head, baby,” he said, holding your hips. You ran your hands along his thick chest and stomach, stopping to play with his pierced nipples.

He hissed softly.

“Sensitive?” You asked, pinching his nipple. He nodded. You leaned down and sucked one into your mouth, flicking your tongue against the cool metal. You teased the hardening bud then switched to the other one, only completely pulling away when they were shining with spit and swollen.

“Pretty,” you muttered. You kissed up his neck, sucking and biting at his slightly prickly skin.

“D’ya jus’ call me pretty?” Osamu asked as you nibbled at his jawline.

“You are,” you said, pecking his lips. You shimmied down his body, tugging his briefs off and tossing them to the floor. You palmed his hardening cock until it was bobbing heavily against your hand.

“Wanna ride you,” you said, straddling him again. You ground your wet folds against his cock.

“I wanna fold ya in half, princess,” Osamu said, holding your hips. “Throw yer legs over my shoulders and pound yer cute, lil pussy until ya cry.”

“No reason we can’t do both,” you said, reaching down to line his cock up with your dripping core. “We have all day.”

“‘m not lettin’ ya leave this bed,” he said. You sank down on his cock with a soft moan.

“Daddy,” you whimpered as his cock nudged your abused cervix.

“Take it all, baby, I know ya can,” he said, holding your hips tightly. You let him hold up as he pounded into you, fucking past your cervix with one, quick thrust.

“Samu!” You moaned loudly, digging your nails into his shoulders. You bounced on his cock in time with his thrusts.

“Takin’ daddy’s cock so well, look at ya,” he grunted. “Such a lil princess, wanting to ride daddy’s cock and not being able to take it all without daddy’s help.”

“S’too big,” you whined as his apadravya dragged against that spongy spot inside you.

“Ya jus’ need a lil’ help, baby,” Osamu said, hands tightening on your hips. “Yer daddy’s little girl, after all.”

You moaned as he pulled you down, your chests flush against each other. He smacked your ass as you bit at his chest.

“Can feel ya clenchin’ ’round me, go ‘head and cum for me, princess,” Osamu grunted. You cried out, your cunt walls squeezing him as you squirted around his cock.

“Good girl,” he praised before flipping you over to your back. Osamu hovered over you, kissing your lips gently before pushing your legs up against your chest.

“Daddy!” You cried as he continued to thrust into you. Your legs shook with overstimulation as he pressed two fingers against your clit.

“Want ya to make a mess for me,” he said, flicking your swollen clit. “Want ya to squirt around my cock again.”

“Harder, Samu, please!” You begged, gripping the white sheets underneath you. Osamu braced himself against the bed as he pounded into you harder.

“Gonna fill ya up all day,” he grunted. “‘Til yer swollen with my seed. Gonna be all fucked out and dumb when I’m finished with ya. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” you moaned, nodding. “Want daddy to breed me until it sticks! Wanna be full of you!”

Osamu grabbed your face roughly, forcing your mouth open. “Tongue out,” he ordered. Your tongue lolled out, drool dripping onto your chin. “Good girl.”

He spat on your tongue before kissing you messily, spit covering both of your chins and thin strands of saliva connecting you two when he pulled away.

“Gonna cum,” you gasped as he pinched your clit. He leaned up, watching you squirm as he relentlessly rutted into you.

“Squirt around my cock, baby,” he said, strumming your clit. “Come on, daddy wants ya to make a mess on him.”

You let out a high pitched moan as he pressed down on your bladder.

“No, no, daddy, gonna make a mess!” You squealed.

“Come on, princess,” he muttered, pushing down harder. “Make a mess on daddy.”

You cried loudly as cum gushed out of you, covering Osamu’s stomach and chest.

“Fuck,” Osamu groaned, balls tightening as he painted your walls white. “Good girl.”

You breathed heavily as Osamu pulled out of you and collapsed next to you.

“Daddy,” you breathed, cuddling into his side. “Didn’t know I could cum that hard.”

“Me either, baby,” he mumbled, pulling you closer to him. “Ya did so good, princess.”

“I made a mess,” you said.

“Just like daddy asked,” he said. “Ya want daddy to clean ya up?”

“Please,” you mumbled. Osamu stood up and lifted you easily, carrying you to the shower. He cleaned both of you off quickly before running a bath in the large bathtub.

“Ya want anything, princess?” Osamu asked as you leaned back in the large tub.

“Join me,” you said. Osamu climbed in behind you, wrapping his arms around you. You leaned against his chest and relaxed into him.

“This is so bittersweet,” Osamu said, rubbing his hand over your stomach soothingly.

“Why?” You asked.

“I just wish I had met ya first,” Osamu said. “Before yer mom. Now, I’ll always be the guy that got with his stepdaughter.”

“Hey, you didn’t raise me or anything,” you said. “It’s not like you’re my father figure or anything. You’re only four years older than me. If anything, my mom’s the weird one for marrying a guy her child’s age.”

“I really, really like ya.” Osamu said, nuzzling your neck. “More than I’ve ever liked anyone.”

“I really, really like you, too,” you said, smiling. You rested your hands on Osamu’s as he pressed small kisses up your neck. “I thought you were the most handsome man I’d ever seen when we first met. Nearly took my breath away.”

“I thought ya were the most beautiful woman,” Osamu said. “Couldn’t take my eyes off ya.”

You lifted his hand to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his skin.

“I’m falling in love with ya,” he mumbled against your skin. “This is the closest to love at first sight anyone has ever been.”

You kissed his hand again.

“What the fuck is this?”

#miya osamu #miya osamu smut #osamu miya smut #haikyuu smut #timeskip miya osamu #tw:incest #cai writes

677 notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years

Text

calculated, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Some people would call you far too serious. Some would call you stuck-up. And some would call you a bitch. But to freshman Jeon Jungkook, you’re the head Calculus I TA noona – and he’s determined to fuck you.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, pussy spanking, fingering, m-receiving oral, doggy, dirty talk); non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft instigator Jimin lol

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

"I think Jungkook likes you."

The lead of your mechanical pencil snapped suddenly. Stupid soft graphite. You glared at it, annoyed, and brushed the broken piece away to complete the equation.

"Who?"

"I think he's taking the afternoon class."

You double-checked the last question and handed him his homework back. "Jimin, you used the wrong equation, here and here."

Park Jimin frowned, face falling when he saw all your corrections. Being one of your parents' friends' kids, your parents and his parents naturally asked you to help him out when he entered the same university as you. You pretty much figured the likelihood of Jimin speaking to you was zero, since he was a dance major and you were a graphics design major. You shrugged and agreed.

Except you forgot you were also the head Calculus I TA and Calculus I was a required course for all students. And, turns out, Jimin wasn't that great at math. That's why you were sitting on cushions at your coffee table in your apartment with Park Jimin, watching a music program as you checked his homework.

"Oh."

Jimin began to look over your arrows and circles. You never actually gave him the answer. He usually ended up forgetting a step in the middle and thus fucked the answer. Usually he caught on easily once you pointed it out.

You stared at the television screen, listening to the latest hit. Not bad. Catchy.

"I think I should tell you because he's kind of reckless," Jimin was saying.

You placed a hand under your head and took a sip of your tea, distracted by the cute MC with the blue hair. He had a cute smile. It reminded you of a bunny.

"Who?"

"Jeon Jungkook," Jimin snapped impatiently.

You raised an eyebrow and faced Jimin. "Oi. I'm correcting your homework here. I could just correct it tomorrow and hand it back to you with red marks instead," you threatened.

He pouted at you, his full lower lip sticking out. "Sorry, noona."

You sighed. "Don't call me that. Makes me feel ancient." You turned your body so you faced him as he scowled at his homework. "Okay, okay, I'm listening now. What did you want to say?"

Jimin put his pencil down immediately and began to chat like an excited gossiping auntie. Round brown eyes getting rounder, glad for a break from his math homework. You didn't want to get him started, but he was going to nag you incessantly until you let him talk.

"I think he sits in the back?" Jimin pondered. "Dark longish hair, wears a lot of black. Looks scary when he's thinking because his eyes go really wide and he furrows his brows."

You twisted your mouth to the side and thought. You only attended the class when they had quizzes or exams because during lectures the professor didn't need your help. Mostly you remembered people by their personal scores or their handwriting, because you graded everything as the head TA. Looking at people's faces wasn't really necessary, unless you were looking for cheating.

"Can't recall. I remember his handwriting though. Not bad," you said, shrugging. "I think he's pretty highly ranked at the moment."

"I think he likes you."

You scoffed. "How did you come to that consensus?"

Jimin tapped his temple sagely. "Intuition."

"If only you used that intuition on Calculus."

He frowned at you, pouting again. You let out a puff of air, conceding.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

Jimin scratched the back of his head. "Well, er... I'm just warning you."

"... Is he a serial killer or something?"

"No, no, no!" Jimin waved his hands on the air hurriedly. "He's really nice. But he can be kind of, uh... forward."

"How old is he?" you asked, glancing at the television for a moment as you took another long sip of your tea.

"Two years younger than me."

You choked.

"What?" you squeaked between coughs. Jimin hurried over and patted your back as you struggled, becoming pink in the face. "The fuck? Tell him to find someone his own age."

"I did!" Jimin whined. "But he's stubborn."

You rolled your eyes. "You're warning me that I have to break a poor freshman's heart?"

"Kind of."

You rubbed your throat. "Hmph. Darn whippersnappers these days."

Jimin smacked your arm, laughing. "I thought you weren't ancient?"

"I am now knowing some kid is fantasizing about their fucking Calculus TA."

You had said your comment sarcastically. You fully expected Jimin to make some joke, but he froze up a little. You looked over to him. He looked somewhat guilty, like a lost puppy who got caught stealing food. You sighed and patted his back.

"Don't worry, I won't chew your friend's heart out. Finish your homework, so I don't drop you off too late. You have practice in the morning, yeah?"

"Y-yeah, thanks."

Forward, huh?

An understatement.

You were sitting in one of the math department offices, laptop open, your drawing tablet in your lap, thinking. The conversation with Jimin happened about two days ago. In that time, you hadn't attended either morning or afternoon class yet, since it was only lectures. Not that it mattered, because lecture halls were massive. If this Jungkook kid sat in the back, then you probably wouldn't be able to see him anyway. At the moment, however, you were preoccupied with your assignment, to design a logo. Logo designing was difficult, especially since a school assignment didn't exactly have a real client attached to it to ask questions.

Technically these were Calculus I office hours, but who attended office hours? Nobody.

Who attended any type of calculus office hours?

Yeah, exactly.

You spent the time doing homework with the door open. You were the only TA that actually showed up for the office hours. Every other TA said it was a waste of time. It was. You still came through; in the off chance some poor kid decided her grade mattered. You felt bad since the actual professor wasn't very patient when people needed extra help. Also, technically you were the head TA, so you did have a bit more responsibility than the others.

Your black boots were perched on the desk as you sat back in your office chair, sketching a few ideas. If a member of the math department saw you, you would probably get in trouble. Thankfully, the math department was usually deserted. Math wasn't exactly the most social subject.

You took a sip of your tea from your thermos, tapping your tablet pen on your black jean-covered thigh.

"You look even better close-up, noona."

A clear, silvery, male voice cut through the silence. The voice came from the doorframe right in front of the desk. You frowned, slowly lifting your head from your tablet. How had you not heard him? Were you really that focused on your assignment?

Chucky black sneakers. Black cargo pants, slim fit. Distressed black sweater, hands casually in his pockets. Broad shoulders. Lightly tanned skin. Sharp jawline. A tiny mole under a mischievous smile. Your eyes narrowed as you made eye contact with those sparkling dark brown orbs. Long hair slicked back, with only a few wispy strands on his forehead.

"Calculus I question?" was your response.

His smile quirked a little higher. The young man didn't have a backpack with him. Didn't even have a piece of paper stuck under his arm. Wasn't even trying to pretend that he needed help.

"I have questions."

He didn't elaborate. You lowered your legs, placing your tablet on your laptop.

"This is Calculus I office hours. For calculus questions only."

His eyes flickered to your laptop and tablet. Back to you.

"Is this what the TAs should be doing during office hours?"

Suddenly, you could feel your pulse in your ears. Point taken.

"What do you want?"

He slid into the chair across from the desk, hands still in his pockets. Watching you carefully, still smiling thoughtfully. It should have been unnerving, but there was no malice in that smile. Maybe you were imagining it though, so you kept your guard up.

"I'm Jeon Jungkook."

Yeah, I guessed, you thought wryly. "And my name is on the syllabus. What do you want?"

He tilted his head at you, studying your face.

"How do you know Jimin-ssi?"

Isn't Jimin older than you, punk? "Our parents are friends."

He nodded slowly. He looked around the windowless office, at the three papers tacked to the wall – outdated notices – to the still open door, to the desk with your laptop, tablet, and backpack. Then to you, sitting back in the black office chair, eyebrow raised, hands half-in the sleeves of your gray flannel, cropped black sweater underneath.

"I think you're beautiful, noona."

Your brain winced at the compliment and your hormones looked up from the abyss. Your brain scolded them to go back to their hidey-hole. You clicked your tongue.

"I'm too old for you."

There was an ever-so-slight tick of his head. His eyes shifted downward and then flicked back up to you, almost shyly, if it wasn't for the small smirk dancing on his lips.

"We both know such a mindset is outdated."

You felt your breath catch in your throat. The fuck? Your hormones peeked out again. Your brain was too distracted with trying to find a comeback to tell them to fuck off. You figured you better cut this off right now before it went too far.

"This whole conversation is inappropriate," you said evenly, standing up from the chair and rolling it back. You walked around the desk and stood in front of it, balancing your ass against it. You crossed your arms over your breasts. "You should leave."

He slowly, slowly gazed up at you. Why did he look so satisfied? Your heart did a little three beat skip. Stop it. Keep it together. Jungkook got to his feet, hands still in his pockets. Then he pulled them out and pushed his sleeves up.

Oh?

Tattoos ran up his right arm, the beginnings of a sleeve. Ink black against light tan, flexed muscle. He was not a skinny pretty boy. You were so busy staring at his arms that you barely registered him placing them casually on either side of you, face right next to yours. Now you were staring down at his broad chest, at his black distressed sweater.

"Excuse me?" you snapped testily, lifting your head to look into his smug eyes.

"I won't touch you," Jungkook murmured quietly. "Unless you ask me to."

This punk ass bitch.

You narrowed your eyes. "What makes you think I would?"

That small teasing smile came back.

"Well, for one, you haven't actually told me you have absolutely no interest yet."

Your hormones prodded you excitedly. Your brain told them to shut up. Your eyes moved to the open door behind his head, looking into the empty hall, trying to keep a balanced, even tone. It came out a little sharper than you intended.

"Door's wide open."

"Embarrassed to be seen with me?" Jungkook purred, breath on your cheek.

You tried not to react even though your hormones were fucking losing it. "What about you?" you shot back sharply.

You heard Jungkook chuckle. "Fuck no I'm not." Your heart jerked heading the crude word come out so daintily and casually from his lips. "I want to be seen with you. All the time. In every position."

You finally tore your eyes from the open door to give him the side-eye. "Real big words there."

Jungkook smirked. "I'm giving you a chance to tell me no. It's taking everything in me not to bend you over this desk right now and fuck your brains out."

You sucked in a breath. Accidentally. Not on purpose. There's absolutely no way Jungkook would have noticed unless he was literally right next to you. Which he was. Shit. He leaned in closer, still not actually touching you.

"You like that idea?" he breathed, the lust evident in his voice, not even trying to hide it.

"I am not some easy bitch at the club, Jungkook. This is the fucking math department," you scolded, eye-level to the base of his neck, wanting very badly to make out with it.

Now it was his turn to inhale sharply. He pulled his head back, and now you were face-to-face with those dark, dark eyes, falling, falling, your body screaming at you to do more. And still you didn’t, torn between reason and instinct.

"I'm so pissed," he growled, breath against your lips. "That the first time I hear you say my name, I wasn't watching your pretty lips form it."

Those few strands brushed against his exposed forehead, framing his furrowed brow and those intense dark brown eyes, making you breathless, telling you that you should, even though the last shreds of reason were telling you, do not, do not, do not give in to Jeon Jungkook.

"It's the middle of the damn day," you murmured.

"And you make me horny every second of every day," he groaned, so close now that his nose almost touched yours. "With your stem stare, your assertive stride, your well-spoken words, and your beautiful body that demands to be kissed, loved, fucked." He panted, shoulders shaking. "God, I want you under me so bad. You have no idea, noona."

Resolve? Hello, where are you?

You raised an eyebrow. "You think you're enough for me?"

His dark eyes gleamed.

"I know I am."

Your eyes flickered to the open door, the vacant hall, feeling Jungkook's body heat hovering so close, so close to you, and then you shifted your eyes back to him. Your brain was screaming at you and your hormones bonked your brain silent. The words at the tip of your tongue came tumbling out, nothing to hold them back anymore.

"Let's see."

And then you kissed him.

Jungkook’s reaction was immediate, his large hands leaving the desk, grabbing your waist, ramming his crotch into you. You gasped against his soft lips and he slid his tongue inside, playing with yours, moaning, kissing you hungrily. His fingers pressed into you through your clothes, strong, tight, unforgiving. Your eyes flew open, surprised at his eagerness. He retreated his tongue and nipped at your lower lip, sucking on it lightly. You shivered, feeling him lift you onto the desk, pushing your legs open with his hips, grinding against you. He kissed down your chin, lifting your head impatiently, moaning against your skin. Every gentle kiss a jolt to your system, contrasting with his rough hands kneading your waist, pulling you close against his firm body, the fucking desk cutting into your thighs, eyelids fluttering.

There was movement at the door.

You froze.

Jungkook’s lips latched onto your neck, sucking sharply. You choked back a wanton moan, seeing a familiar face. A familiar, plump smile with cute, lovely eyes. He waved a small hand at you and reached for the doorknob, locking it from the inside before winking at you and closing the door silently.

Park fucking Jimin.

That bas–

Your thought was sharply cut off by Jungkook nipping at your throat, hissing as he rolled his hips into your thigh, a distinct bulge pressing into you. He yanked down the front of your sweater, sucking on the space right between your collarbones. You whimpered and shuddered, wrapping a leg around his waist and hooking him towards you, hands finally leaving your chest and grabbing his, fingers getting caught in the holes of his sweater.

“Fuck,” he growled. “I’m so fucking hard already because you’re so fucking hot.”

You caught yourself against the desk, elbow slamming onto the wood. You winced. “I haven’t done shit,” you said, surprised to feel your lips slightly swollen.

Jungkook grinned. “You don’t have to. Just you below me is enough.”

You glared at him and he bent over the desk, grabbing the back of your head, pushing your face to his, kissing you again, stealing your breath. It was the perfect mix of force and desperation, leaving you yielding, back arching as he sucked on your tongue, bobbing his head up and down slightly to pull on it. You tried not to make noise – everything was already too noisy anyway – only crying out softly when he let you go. Now you were on your elbows with Jungkook towering over you, licking his lips, the spare strands now stuck to his exposed forehead. His eyes roamed over your body before landing back on your face. You gave him your best questioning look.

He chuckled darkly. “I want to rip all your clothes off, but something tells me you will be upset with me.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Because this is still the middle of the math department, let me remind you, Jungkook.” You huffed. “I don’t live here. Don’t get crazy.”

He grinned, leaning forward. “Say my name again, noona. God, let me watch your delicious lips speak my fucking name.”

You raised your eyebrows. Then you felt his hands on your jeans, undoing the button, making you jump. The zipper going down, down. He yanked at the seam, digging it into your already wet pussy, shoving your panties into your slit.

“A-ah, Jungkook…”

Oh fuck. That sounded kind of pathetic.

He bit his lower lip, and yanked again.

“J-Jungkook, ah…” Your eyelids fluttered, trying to keep your strict demeanor.

“Fuck,” he hissed, firmly gripping the waistband of your jeans and pulling them down your ass, half-dragging your panties down. “You like that, noona? Do you want me to be rough with you?”

You prayed to the higher power that he would just take the damn hint and not make you say it. But Jungkook was dragging your panties back up, the thin black fabric being sucked into your folds and ass as he pulled them far too high. You gasped, trying not to look down, trying not to look at his face. But he grabbed your chin, dragging you back to him, making you open your glazed eyes, making you see his excited expression.

“Look at me, noona.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Jungkook held the front of your panties and pulled, hard. You had to choke back a moan, the fabric nearly ripping, rubbing harshly against your clit. You felt the squelch of you getting wetter, hearing it clearly as he yanked at it, stimulating your clit.

“Tell me you don’t like it, noona,” Jungkook whispered hotly, letting go of your chin. “Tell me and I’ll stop.”

You spread your legs involuntarily, trying very hard not to make a fucking sound, but it was already obvious by your fists clenched against the desk, your widespread legs, and your pussy lips practically sucking your panties in, so much so that they nearly disappeared into you.

Jungkook snuck a glance down, gasping softly at your glistening pussy being tortured by your panties. He dropped to his knees and you had only one second to be confused before Jungkook’s tongue licked up your slit. You had to slap a hand over your mouth to avoid crying out, leaving your sounds limited to muffled whimpers as he lapped at your juices, groaning into you. Your entire lower body vibrated as he teased your covered clit, smushing the fabric into your deeper, rougher. Your hips strained, trying to hump his face but only digging your panties into you harder.

You removed your hand from your face, biting on your tongue to regain some semblance of thought so you fucking talk.

“T-take it off…” you gasped. You looked down, seeing his mischievous eyes above your quivering mound, licking his lips slowly, pink tongue tracing the contours of his mouth.

Jungkook raised his hand.

Smack!

This time you had to actually shove to knuckles into your mouth and mute your squeal as pain radiated through you, your pussy stinging. He slapped you again, right on your clit, hard, making your throw your head back and nearly hit the desk, hips raising to meet him. Oh, God. He pressed his finger against your aching clit, rubbing hard, standing up to bend over you, an impossibly strong presence as he pleasured you.

“Say it, noona,” he breathed. “Tell me you like getting your pussy spanked.”

He was rubbing your clit so hard that you felt your hips raise into it, eyes rolling back into your head.

“Say it or I’ll stop,” he warned menacingly, voice so low it ripped through you.

You tore your knuckles out of your mouth. “Don’t stop, please, fuck, Jungkook, I love it when you spank my clit, fuck, please, fuck.” The words came jumbling out in a rushed, half-panicked whisper, cut off by your sharp gasp as your orgasm clawed into you. You felt Jungkook slap his free hand over your mouth, shutting off your wail as your throbbed into his hand, turning into helpless whines as he spanked your clit hard and fast, accentuating your high with waves of sudden, aching pain. You pushed his hand away, pressing your head against the desk, gasping.

“Harder, please, Jungkook, harder.”

He was staring at your fucked-out face, massaging your throbbing pussy with his palm, coating his fingers with your cum. Your voice a thin moan, hips rutting into him.

“Believe me, I want to,” he snarled. “I want to so fucking bad, noona, but we’re already loud enough and you’re making a fucking mess.”

He pulled your panties down, nearly useless at this point and roughly shoved two fingers into you. You gasped, tongue lolling out and he took the chance to put two fingers of his free hand into your mouth, rubbing your wet tongue. You could feel every joint, the calluses of his fingertips as he thrust them into you, slopping, wet sounds accompanying his movements.

“Fuck, look at you, noona, sucking in my fingers, letting me fuck your mouth,” Jungkook murmured, centimeters away from your face. “I haven’t even fucked you with my cock yet and you’re already taking me so well.”

If you could think, you probably would have a snappy response, but Jungkook was stuffing his fingers into your mouth and scissoring the others inside your pussy, driving you insane. You made eye contact with Jungkook, him and his blown-out pupils, his lips trembling as he rammed his fingers into your holes faster, harder, sliding you up the wooden desk. Something inside you snapped and you squeezed your eyes shut, your body shaking as you came again, trying to yell, but unable to because Jungkook shoved his fingers into your throat, making you almost choke if it wasn’t for your own expertise. An embarrassing amount of liquid poured down his hand and wrist, dripping down your thighs. You clamped your legs shut, burying his hand, hips jerking as the aftershocks rippled through you.

You heard Jungkook swallow loudly, jaw tight. He slowly pulled his fingers out of both holes, strings of bodily fluid following him as he did so. Your shaking knees were barely holding your lower body up, jeans constricting your calves and your upper body way too fucking hot.

You laid back on the wood, trying to catch your breath. Was it a fucking cliché? Probably. You felt Jungkook lift himself off the desk and you closed your eyes, chest heaving. Of course. He was just going to leave you like this, tearing your secret out of you and then leaving to boast about how he turned the head Calculus I TA into a helpless, submissive puddle of goo without even actually fucking you. Why did you even bother–

You suddenly felt the desk creak and snapped your eyes open to Jungkook climbing onto it, straddling your chest, unzipping his pants right in front of your face. His slicked hair was becoming unfurled now, more and more dark strands falling down around his ears. His brow furrowed, eyes so wide and focused you weren’t even sure he was actually looking at you.

“Uh–”

He reached in his black boxer briefs impatiently and pulled out his thick, leaking cock. Your eyes widened and his found yours, glittering with arousal. A smear of pre-cum grazed your cheek as he adjusted his position to push the red, bulbous tip against your lips.

“I want to fuck you, noona, but you have to clean me up,” Jungkook breathed, gently asking you but also trying to greedily push his dick into your mouth.

You could say something, but somehow you concluded you were going to be muffled anyway, so you opened your mouth, tongue snaking out and licking the head. Flat, wide, and all over, coating your tongue with his pre-cum, moaning at his taste. Jungkook sunk his teeth into his lower lip, hissing softly as he spread his legs even more, lowering himself slowly into your mouth. You licked around his cock before closing your lips and sucking, growing wet as he thrust his hips into your mouth, slow and steady, eyes closed. You reached up to hold onto his thighs, whimpering as you felt his muscular quads through his pants. He opened his eyes and looked down at you, sliding his cock in a little deeper, hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck, noona, so fucking sexy, taking my cock like that,” he groaned, reaching down and pushing your hair out of your eyes. His dark hair hung down, framing his face in shadow, making your pussy throb at the image. “Makes me want to fill all your holes up, makes me want to coat you with my cum and see you covered in it, messy and dirty with me.”

You couldn’t say anything so you just whined, nails digging into his covered thighs.

“You want that?” His voice dropped several octaves again. Your skin prickled hotly with every word. “You want me to jack off all over you and leave you a mess covered with my cum?”

You squeezed your thighs together, desperate for friction, now moving your head to suck harder, rubbing the tip fiercely against the back of your throat.

“F-fuck,” he gritted out. He tapped your hand hurriedly, eyelids fluttering. “S-stop, stop.” You whimpered, sadly looking up at him. He chuckled, rubbing your knuckles soothingly.

Look here you little shit, you can’t say all that dirty stuff and not expect me to be horny, your eyes were telling him.

“I know, I know,” he purred. “But I want to fuck your pussy and office hours are almost over…”

You glowered at him, but reluctantly unhinged your jaw, opening your lips. He slid out, gasping, hitting you in the chin and getting the front of your sweater wet.

“You’re a jerk,” you muttered as he climbed off you.

Jungkook chuckled. “Sorry, noona.”

You shook your hair and reached into your backpack, pulling out a condom, only to turn around and see Jungkook pulling one out of his back pocket.

“Oh.” You blinked at him. “You’re prepared.”

Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows. “I knew what I was coming for.”

A muscle in your brow twitched as he tucked his tongue in his cheek, grinning widely at you as he ripped it open and slid it on slowly, rolling it down his thick cock. His voice changed, dipping raspy and low.

“Turn around.”

Part of you wanted to fight, but then you spied the time. You rolled onto your stomach, sighing exaggeratedly as your legs tangled a bit in your jeans. You felt Jungkook’s presence behind you as he bent over your back, hand sliding over your lips and covering your mouth.

“Sigh all you want, noona,” he growled, chuckling as you shivered. “Just don’t scream when I’m fucking you.”

Your eyes widened as you felt the head press against your puffy pussy lips, pushing in forcefully, expanding your tight little hole as his cock entered you, his moan against your ear, your name dripping with lust. Both of you still mostly clothed, but his cock sliding deep, deep inside you, his teeth on your earlobe. Your walls throbbed around him, squeezing him. He gasped, jutting his hips experimentally into you. A stifled moan sneaked past his fingers, your tongue licking them lightly.

“That’s it,” he breathed. “Nice and tight for me, bent over this desk.” He nipped at your ear, whispering softly as he began to fuck you. “What if someone hears you, whimpering for my cock, begging to be fucked?”

Your hands clenched into fists, eyes fluttering shut, feeling him pound you into the wood, deep and slow and far too perfect.

“Noona, what if someone sees you?” His voice like smoke, invading all your thoughts, threatening your dreams, cursing you with the feeling of his lips on your ear and his hips pounding your ass. “Proper, harsh, strict noona turning into a slut for this cock, bent over this desk and humping my hips so you can get this dick deeper inside you?”

You squeezed your eyes shut and wiggled your ass against his cock. He thrust his hips harder into you, jerking you forcefully upwards, your thighs smacking against the desk. Light flickered in front of your closed eyelids and you opened them, seeing your phone screen glaring at you. A message from Jimin. Finish already! You struggled to say his name and Jungkook lifted his hand for a moment to hear your shaking breath.

“Jungkook,” you panted. “Time.”

He covered your mouth again. “You’re right,” he grunted, rolling his hips into you, biting back his moans as you clenched around him. The wet, slapping sounds became louder as he changed his angle, fucking you roughly into the table. It pushed your hips up and you clung onto the edge of the desk, moaning around his hand, tongue pressed flat against his palm as he fucked you with reckless abandon, beating a damn indent of the edge of the desk into your thighs. The dull ache was going to lead to a bruise, but you didn’t care, pushing your hips back to meet him. A choked wail vibrated in your throat as you came again, whole body lurching as he sunk his teeth into your clothed shoulder, groaning as he came inside you, cock twitching and throbbing against your walls. You felt the condom expand, matched with Jungkook’s hiss as he pumped into you. You pulsed your pussy around him and he detached his mouth, whispering your name against your ear.

“You’re dirty, noona,” he rasped, the words so breathless they made you shiver. “I love it.”

You shakily reached up and peeled his hand from your mouth, gasping as he straightened to hold the condom and pull out of you. Fuck. Oh fuck. You scrambled for your phone, seeing Jimin’s text.

You better rush outta there, noona.

You heard the wet, peeling sound of Jungkook pulling the used condom off gingerly. You turned around, hissing at Jungkook before he threw it in the trash.

“Are you crazy?” you muttered, snatching it from him. “Someone will see.”

Jungkook blinked at you. “What else do I do with it?”

You glared at him and tied it up, grabbing some tissues and wrapping it inside. Then you shoved it in your backpack, along with your laptop, your tablet, the spare condom, and reaching over the desk to unplug your laptop’s AC adaptor so you could shove that in your bag too.

“Fuck, your ass is so sexy,” Jungkook marveled behind you.

“Jungkook, we have to get the fuck out of here, so pack your damn dick,” you ordered, yanking your jeans up. Squelch. You sucked in your lower lip in at the cold, uncomfortable sensation of your soaked panties. You zipped your bag and checked around the desk to make sure you took everything. You grabbed your phone and shoved it in your back pocket, turning around to see Jungkook rezipping his pants. Thank God. You might have been tempted if he hadn’t listened to you. Then you remembered the two bits of condom wrapping on the floor and picked those up too, shoving them in your other pocket.

Jungkook smirked at you. “So thorough, noona.”

You scowled at him. Maybe he hadn’t been in this situation before, but you sure as hell have.

“Stay here for twenty seconds and then leave.”

Jungkook pouted at you. You felt your heart skip a beat.

“But I don’t even have your number.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ask Jimin. You two are in cahoots anyway.” You popped your head out, looking around. No one. You popped your head back in. “Also, you owe me new panties the next time I see your smug little face, you punk,” you added, tone irate.

He smirked at you; his long dark hair wispy around his playful eyes.

You gave him one last look before you tore your eyes away, rushing through every back stairway to get the hell out of there before someone could realize you just fucked a freshman during office hours, your slopping, torn-up panties reminding you with every step that you really needed Jeon Jungkook to fuck you again.

part ii

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic

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alrightberries · 3 years

Text

dante’s inferno

request: wassup homie could you maybe write a college au fic where levi and reader are rommies, then one day reader brings home an adopted cat without levi's prior knowledge? You could decide what happens next lol. Tysm 🥺

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 4k

❈ summary: college au. in which you bring a stray cat to your dorm and your neat freak roommate won’t let you keep it.

alternatively: a compilation of college shenanigans where you and levi are best friends who are bad with feelings (ft. an unamused cat named dante)

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of alcohol and smoking. implied smut.

a/n: this was supposed to be loosely based on the nine circles of hell according to inferno by dante alighieri— hence the title— but i did my research wrong so now it’s loosely based on the seven terraces of purgatory according to divine comedy. i’m keeping the title tho.

Inspired by this art by @ryuichirou on tumblr.

Permission to repost art was granted by the artist. Do not repost/edit the art without explicit permission from the artist.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

i. first terrace: pride

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why?”

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why.”

Levi’s tongue clicks in annoyance. His eyes glance next you where the offending creature lay on your bed; tail curling, paws kneading at his your favorite fleece blanket. Quite frankly he’s a little offended when the little shit has the audacity to glare at him back.

He’ll never admit it, but his ego’s a bit bruised because the cat’s glare was slightly better than his.

“I said no,” he firmly replies, looking back to you. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with an anarchist who has no respect for boundaries—“

“One time, I forgot to use a coaster that one time!”

“—and now you expect me to share a room with a dirty fur ball who does nothing but eat, shit, and sleep?”

“He’s a cat, Levi.” You murmur, scooping the cat into your arms. “And he has a name,” you give a nervous smile when you see your rommate grit his teeth. He feels a headache coming.

“You named it?”

“Dante is not an ‘it’.”

Levi makes a move to step closer but immediately stops when the ‘Dante’ hisses at him.

“Aw, he likes you.” You coo.

“Clearly,” he replies unenthusiastically. “Listen,” he sighs. “I respect your cat’s pronouns but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to stay. Or do I need to remind you of the mac and cheese incident?”

Okay, maybe he was on to something. If you got caught with a pet in the dorms you’d breach your third and final warning, and you’d be forced to dorm off-campus. The fact that you were still here after the mac and cheese incident was solely because Levi pulled some strings (aka asked Erwin, golden boy of the campus who owed him a favor, to pull some strings).

But you couldn’t just let Dante go. There was something about him that felt so familiar; something about his black fur, thin silver eyes, unamused snarl, and overall grumpy demeanor. Especially endearing was the way he’d grumble and pretend to be annoyed whenever you tried to cuddle him but would complain if you stopped.

You just couldn’t figure out who or what he reminded you of.

Maybe you would’ve figured it out too if you weren’t so distracted with watching Levi and Dante stare at each other. Your eyes dart back and forth between the grouchy cat sitting on your bed and your grouchy roommate sitting on his desk. Both were slightly crouched over with their heads tilted up in a show of dominance; they were engaged in what seemed to be a glaring contest, gunmetal irises unamused and mouths taut in a snarl as they protected their territory.

You sigh. You really, for the life of you, couldn’t figure out why Dante felt so familiar.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ii. second terrace: envy

Levi is not jealous. He’s not.

At least that’s what he tells himself as he sulks alone on his bed. His arms are crossed and his lips are in a pout, eyebrows knitted in distaste, occasionally glancing to your side of the room where you sat up on your bed. He’s sure whatever movie you chose to watch together is interesting and all, but right now all he could pay attention to was that stupid cat. Sitting on your stupid lap. Getting its fur stroked by your stupid hand. Getting all the love and affection his stupid self should be receiving.

It was him you should be cuddling, not Dante. Saturday nights were reserved for him and you, not you and a cat while he happened to be in the room. He’s been trying to make a move on you since high school and he can’t fucking believe he’s losing your attention to a cat. Sure, he’s always been too chicken to make a move and had to suffer seeing you get together with assholes— as per your type during your emo high school days— but this was a new low. He can’t wrap his head around the concept that he’s losing his longterm crush to a motherfucking cat.

When you coo at how adorable the fleabag was for what felt like the 50th time that night, Levi decides he’s had enough of the cuddle-hogging piece of shit.

Wordlessly, he crosses to your side of the room and lifts the cat from its perch, ignoring your protests as he sets it down on the floor and tells it to ‘scram, you little fuck.’ He uses a hand to dust your lap free of any microscopic cat particles Dante probably left behind before lying down his head down once he was satisfied. He grabs your hand to put it on his hair.

“Stroke.” He orders, eyes closing.

“What? No! You pushed off Dante.”

“He was in my spot.”

“You couldn’t have given up your lap pillow for one night?”

“One night?” He scoffs and turns to look at you. “You’ve been abandoning me for two weeks. That disgusting, tic-infested, rabies-carrying slob has no business sitting on your lap.”

“He’s not disgusting, you gave him a shower before you agreed to let me keep him. And I took him the vet to make sure he had all his shots. He’s clean, Levi.”

“Tch, good. Now throw him out and let him find someone else to freeload from.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” You guffaw. “You’ve been grumpier than usual. And why’re you being such an ass to Dante? He’s just a cat.”

“Don’t think he’s special in some way. I’m an ass to everyone.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re always extra mean to him?”

He doesn’t reply. His lips are downturned into a frown when he looks away with a click of his tongue, and you realize with a sigh you won’t be getting an answer from your cryptic roommate soon. Your fingers start mindlessly stroking his undercut when you get lost in your thoughts— a habit you developed through years of Levi using your lap as a pillow. He always complained the first few times you did it but you knew it calmed both him and you, and that it put both your minds at ease. Moreso Levi right now, apparently.

You’re keenly aware of how he seems to curl up into you the more you keep going. You watch as his shoulders slump down when you stroke the side of his face, and his eyebrows relax slightly. From your angle, you could even see the way his eyes close in content. Maybe even a tiny smile if you were being delusional.

Your lip twitches upward.

“Oh my god, Levi, are you jealous of a cat?”

“Shut up and play with my hair.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iii. third terrace: wrath

“You owe me a new cravat.”

You blink up at your roommate. “What?”

“You owe me a new cravat.” He repeats. He pulls from his pocket a white piece of fabric— barely recognizable— torn into shreds, releases it mid-air. It gently lands on your open palm.

“Wait, did Dante do this?” You ask, eyeing the slik in your hands.

“Unless you went feral in the middle of the fucking night and decided to cut up my clothes, yes.”

“Oh my god, Levi, I’m so sorry. I swear Dante will never—“

“You actually owe me three cravats,” he interjects. “The first two I overlooked since they weren’t that expensive but I draw the line here.” His lips are downturned into a frown, eyes poorly concealing his clear distaste. “This one’s my favorite and it was made from silk.”

You eye the fabric in your hands once more before nodding in understanding, setting down the once beautiful cravat before taking out your wallet. It was only fair that you paid him back; he was being more than generous with letting your cat stay and keeping it a secret, and now you wonder how many bad things Dante’s done that Levi’s overlooked or simply never brought up with you.

“Sure, I’m really sorry. How much do I owe you?”

Levi doesn’t say anything. Instead he pulls out his phone and types something on what you could only assume was google, most likely looking for the same brand of the cravat your cat had just torn into shreds. You weren’t entirely sure how much those could cost, but surely you could afford—

“What the fuck!” You screech, eyeing the page with very, very hefty price tags listed. Holy fucking hell where did he even get the money to buy something so expensive. Gulping, you nervously look up at your unimpressed roommate. You already knew he was taking it easy on you; his aura was the only thing intimidating, at least he wasn’t giving you the murder eyes. And even though he was a man of his word, you were thankful he hasn’t reported Dante.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that Levi looked pissed beyond belief.

“Uhm... can I pay you with a check that’ll definitely bounce?”

“You will pay me in cash.”

“Fuck, fine!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iv. fourth terrace: sloth

Levi silently works on his desk. His laptop’s open in fromt of him, numerous notes from classes and books from the library surrounding him. The gentle sounds of clicking and clacking echoe throughout the room as fingers typed at the keyboard, eyes concentrated and lips pulled taught as he focuses on his task. He’s on a roll. He’s almost done with this part of his research, nothing could snap him out of this, he just needs to—

“Levi, when do you think Dante will come back to me?”

He stops typing and grits his teeth.

This is how it’s been the entire night. Ten minutes of peace before you ask him some stupid questions that could’ve been answered with common sense.

“Fuck if I care.”

“Do you think it was something I did?”

He resumes typing. “Yes.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“No.”

“Even after all we’ve been through?”

“Still no.”

“I miss him,” you sigh. “I miss him so much.”

“Then you shouldn’t have left the door open.”

It’s been a week since Dante escaped the dorm and Levi doesn’t understand why you’re still so depressed about it. I mean, you only lost a cat that you loved and treasured and treated like family. Surely a week of moping around in your pajamas and eating nothing but chips and soda was catharsis enough.

He hears you shift in your burrito blanket, presumably to turn away from him so you can sulk into the wall next to your bed. Good. Now he can get back to working on—

“Levi do you think Dante-“

“Enough.” He grits, slamming his laptop shut.

“Where’re you going?” You ask, eyeing the way he hurriedly stuffs papers and books into his bag along with his laptop.

“Out.” He replies, grabbing his keys and his coat. “I can’t stand this shit anymore.”

Your head is burried in your blankets when he slams the door shut and all you could do was slump down because great. You lost Dante, and now you’ve royally pissed off Levi.

Great. Just fucking great.

Unlike your cat, however, your roommate comes back hours later, just before curfew. He doesn’t bother with a hello— he never does— and neither do you, opting to stay hidden underneath the sheets. Though suddenly, there’s a dip in the mattress followed by a pur next to your head.

Could it be?

“Dante?” You murmur, lifting your head from underneath your cocoon of fabric. Small black paws and silver eyes meet your gaze. “Dante!” Immediately sitting up, you pulled him to your lap, scratching his little head and cooing about how much you missed him as he purred and curled into to you.

Levi would never say it, but he missed seeing you smile at the little fleabag.

You turn to look at your roommate. “How’d you find him?”

“Asked around the campus. He wandered into another dorm building and probably thought it was ours.”

“Well yeah but... I thought you hated him?”

“I do.” He replies instantly.

“Then why’d you find him?”

“I hate him, not you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

v. fifth terrace: avarice

“I fucking hate both of you,” Levi grumbles, staring at the dorm.

Towers of boxes lined his supposed to be clean dorm room. He had a hard time prying the door open since it was blocked, and he wasn’t even sure how the boxes weren’t blocking out the light from how high they were piled. Dante’s sat on a stack of box directly next to the door, purring and flicking his tail around. Levi squints his eyes and glares at the little shit.

“You especially.”

“Mrow?”

Levi’s day had been, with no irony or sarcasm at all, amazing. He got a good grade on his research paper; the guy in front of him at the cafe accidentally ordered an extra serving of (coincidentally, Levi’s favorite) tea and gave it to him for free; and he got full marks for the presentation he’s been worrying about for weeks. His class even got dismissed early so he had an extra hour for lunch. He knew you didn’t have classes, so in honor of his great day he thought he’d do something nice and take you out for lunch. His treat, of course.

But any trace of his good mood vanished when he went back to the dorms and got greeted to a room that looked like it came from an episode of Hoarders.

This is what he gets for trying to be nice.

“Levi! Is that you?” You called out.

“What the fuck happened?”

You laugh sheepishly— at least Levi thinks you do. He couldn’t see you beyond the hundred boxes that took up your shared room. He hears some rustling and the sound of things being moved around before finally your head pops out from behind a wall of brown, smiling at him apologetically before walking towards him (and tripping a few times).

“Remember when I said I’d order some toys for Dante as a surprise?”

Levi’s eye twitches. “Don’t tell me—”

“I accidentally ordered 10,000 instead of 10. Online shopping struggles, am I right?” You nervously chuckle at his pissed off face. Levi was not in the mood.

Your smile widens as you make twinkly gestures with your hands. “So uh... surprise?”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vi. sixth terrace: gluttony

The clinic is still when you first entered.

The harsh smell of alcohol and sterile metal makes your nose grimace, and the coldness of the thermostat brings goosebumps to your arms. Behind the wall, somewhete in the waiting room, cats are hissing, dogs are barking, and you could even hear the sound of birds angrily chirping and rattling their cages.

Dante cowers in fear on the silver table, and your heart aches. His ears are down and his fur’s standing on its ends, but you couldn’t comfort him. Not right now, at least. The veterinarian still needed to do a few more checks.

You gulp, “how’s... how’s Dante looking, doc?”

“Not good,” she murmurs. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she takes a deep sigh as she eyes the information on the chart. “It’ll take months before he can walk properly again, possibly more if we don’t do anything about it soon.”

“Don’t tell me... is he—-”

“I’m sorry, my dear,” she sighs. “But your cat is heavily obese.”

The corners of your lips twitch down into a frown, and your palm is warm when you start to stroke Dante’s fur. He calms down a bit from your touch, less on edge but still guarded as he warily eyes the doctor’s gloved hands.

“But I don’t understand,” you reply. “I’ve been following the recommended diet you put him on, and I haven’t been feeding him anything other than the cat food and vitamins you recommended. How’s he still obese?”

“Well, we could look into other solutions, but for now I think we ought to look at whether or not Dante has an underlying health problem.”

Levi tunes out the chatter between you and the vet, bored eyes staring into nothing. He’s leaning against a wall and he’s watching the cat carrier. Your bag’s slung over his shoulders and your coat’s in his arms, and he was sure you didn’t even need him to be here for “moral support.”

He mentally scoffs. You probably just needed a chauffeur to drive you for free, and honestly, Levi would rather feel like a chauffeur than a coat rack.

His eyes make contact with Dante’s, and all the fear in the cat’s eyes is suddenly gone, replaced with a steely glare and bared teeth. A warning, one no one else notices but him.

Levi gives him a solitary nod, understanding what Dante wanted to say.

Don’t tell Y/N I’ve been sneaking to the neighbors.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vii. seventh terrace: desire

There’s something about the buzz of alcohol and nicotine that makes Levi confident—- the liquid courage in his veins and the smoke in his lungs clouding his judgement. Perhaps that’s where he finally gets the balls to cross the room, drunken eyes on your equally intoxicated ones, before he pulls you in for a kiss.

The kiss starts slow, with lips just interlocking and lightly testing the waters. But then he feels your tongue make its way inside his mouth and your fingers weave into his hair to tug him closer, and Levi loses the last threads of inhibition he has. His tongue massages yours and one of his arm wraps around your waist, the other comes down to grope and knead your ass. He feels you walk backwards and your hand pulls at his tie, dragging him with you. Suddenly he’s trapping you against a wall, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around his hips so he could grind his crotch into yours.

Levi doesn’t expect his first kiss with you to be like this; messy and full of tongue and spit, full of fingers clawing at clothes and small grunts escaping your lips. He was hoping it’d be more romantic, with warm cheeks and fingers softly intertwining, shy kisses exchanged through little smiles.

But he’s not about to complain—- he’s wanted to be with you for years, and god he loved having you like this. Loved having you all hot and desperate, trapped between his firm chest and the wall. His cock is hard in his pants, and he just about growls when he feels you start to undo his belt, the fly of his pants coming down as you got on your knees and stared up at him with innocent eyes as you pull out his aching boner. There’s a cheeky grin your face when you pump at his length, and your tongue peaks out of your mouth before—

“Levi, are you okay?”

His eyes snap open, and he’s greeted to the sight of your worried face directly above his.

“Fuck!” he yells, and his forehead slams into yours when he flinches away. “Sorry, sorry” he quickly ammends when you yelp in pain.

He’s covered in sweat, he notices. Chest heaving, heart beating a little too loud for his liking, and he silently pulls the blankets over his cum stained boxers when you sit beside him.

God, he was really hoping you wouldn’t notice the fact that he came in his pants like a high schooler. And it was before dream you even got to suck him off. How much more pathetic could he be.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, m’fine, it’s just...” your eyes are distracted, staring off into space. Fingers trace his thighs, and you sigh. “You were having a nightmare,”

Levi blinks. “What?”

“You were having a nightmare,” you repeat. “Kept tossing and turning and groaning in your sleep. And you kept making these... funny faces,”

“...right,” he nods. Sure, a nightmare. A nightmare he never wanted to wake up from.

It takes about ten minutes to reassure you that yes, he was fine, don’t mind the way his cheeks are flushed, he was just... shaken up from his nightmare, is all. Then you’re back to bed, sleeping the night away, and twenty minutes later he’s on his way back to bed too; this time with a fresh pair of boxers and a content look on his face, all thanks to him finishing off his fantasies in the communal bathroom during his shower.

The door makes a quiet click when he shuts it behind him, and he freezes when he catches sight of Dante sat up on your bed, tail flicking behind him as he gives Levi a knowing look.

Levi squints his eyes, and he threateningly whispers, “you tell no one.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

epilogue

The half empty room brings a frown to your face, and all you could do was pout as you sealed up the last of the boxes.

“Why do you have to leave again?” you ask, and Levi turns around as he finishes folding the last of his clothes. He shrugs. “Cats aren’t allowed in the dorms.”

You owed him your entire college career, that much was sure. The RA’s found out about Dante, and Levi had taken the fall to spare you. He wasn’t required to move out since it was only his first strike, but he insisted on doing so so that Dante wouldn’t be alone, saying he already found an apartment nearby and he’ll never hear the end of it from you if he didn’t take Dante with him.

Bullshit. Levi had a soft spot for Dante, you knew that much. He wasn’t doing it for you, he was doing it for himself. Though normally you’d be overjoyed to know that Levi really did secretly like the cat he pretended to hate so much, this time, you were just pissed. You couldn’t believe a fucking cat was stealing away the guy you’ve been in love with since high school. Sure, you were too much of a coward to ask him out, but he was basically your boyfriend already—- the entire campus knew you inadvertently had dibs on each other.

“Yeah but... do you have to leave me alone?”

“I asked you to come with me, and you said no.” He points out. “I still don’t see why when we’ve been roommates since we were freshmen.”

“It’s different off-campus!”

“How?”

“Because it’s like... it’s like we’re moving in together, y’know?” you reply. “And it seemed wrong to move in with you when we’re not even dating.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, handing you a spare key to what you could only assume was his new apartment. You glance between him and the key in your hands, and he rolls his eyes when he realizes that you still don’t get it.

“I know we’re doing this backwards since couples don’t typically move in before the first date,” he says before gesturing to Dante. “But we already have a son, and I know you’re his favorite parent. We can share custody until you can move in with me.”

You blink. “What?” Your brain stopped working when Levi referred to you as a couple, and you’re pretty sure your heart stopped beating too. At this point, anything he said went in one ear and out the other. He flicks your forehead.

“Hey— ow! What was that for?”

“You weren’t listening.”

“And you’re being a prick!” you grumble. “It hurts, y’know.”

He scoffs. “What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?” he scoffs.

Your mouth moves faster than your brain, “I’d rather you kiss me.”

Wait. What?

Before you could go back on your words, Levi shrugs. Warm palms gently grab your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his. Your eyes widen and you momentarily freeze, brain definitely not working anymore. He hesitates when you don’t make a move, but then you’re shyly leaning forward, and that was all the confirmation Levi needs.

“If you insist,” he whispers, and suddenly your words die on your tongue when his lips interlock with yours.

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#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi imagine #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan imagine #aot imagine #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin imagine #snk imagine #writing

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giorno-plays-piano · 3 years

Text

Vicious

Part VI

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, mention of blackmail, all characters are adults.

Words: 1567.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

________

You spent the rest of your evening like a somnambulist, barely able to concentrate on your projects before you went to bed, barely finishing half of the things you planned for today. Even the change of locks didn't make you as happy as you thought it would. It felt like something between a dream and a nightmare.

Lying in the dark, you stared at the ceiling, thinking of what happened just a couple of hours ago. Why did he do it? Was it just out of habit and didn’t mean anything? Naturally, with his appearance and easy-going attitude, he probably dated many girls and didn’t think much before kissing someone he liked.

Remembering the way he talked to you in the morning, you thought he must have pretended to be shy around you. Thor certainly wasn’t sheepish.

Was it all a sham? Was Loki right about all of them, playing their roles to get close to you? You couldn’t forget the way Thor looked the moment he told you about being smart. It was like something switched inside him, and for a second you saw the real Thor who was far from being your simple, good-natured athlete.

Why did you keep thinking about that stupid kiss even after seeing the man could be dangerous?

Aroused and angry, you tossed and turned until you fell asleep.

____________

Waking up was especially tough, despite the fact you didn't really do much yesterday, meaning you were going to spend your weekend studying. Shoot, and that's when you planned to visit that new chocolate boutique in the city. Maybe you could still make it if you spent more time studying today?

But then again, going to the city alone might be a bad idea. Even if the guys who stole your things were beaten, it didn't mean it had always been the same people following you. The school was full of weirdos, in the end. What if somebody went after you? Steve would definitely say you had to bring one of your guards with you.

Damn. It was better staying in the dorm then.

"Good morning! Are you ready?" Peter's voice broke through the silence, and you flinched, hurriedly applying some lipstick because you didn't have enough time to put your makeup properly.

Well, at least you were fully dressed.

"Just give me a second!" Picking up your bag, you put your shoes on and opened the door, looking at a young guy who's face was lit up like a Christmas tree. "Hi!"

He definitely liked what he saw, and you felt your cheeks growing hot from embarrassment. From the very start of the semester Peter acted very sweet around you, and you thought you could be friends with him. He wouldn't do something as ugly as blackmailing, would he? Thor said it too. Clearly, Steve was exaggerating.

"Did you sleep well? I've heard you changed your lock, so now it'll be better."

"Ugh, I hope so. But I still sleep with my dresser blocking the door." Sighing, started walking, afraid to look in the faces of other students, hurrying off to school.

They must have been disgusted, watching you being friendly with one guy after being all lovey-dovey with the other just yesterday. Although you didn't see anyone in particular, you were sure somebody saw Thor kissing you. And now you were walking the corridors with Peter.

"By the way, what's your Insta?"

What? Your Instagram? Whatever for? Although you had no idea why he needed it, you let him add you, by the time leaving the dorm and walking towards the main building.

Suddenly, Peter got pretty close, his arm on your waist as he lifted up his phone and hummed, "Look here and smile!"

Before you realized what he was doing, the boy kissed your temple, and you heard the sound of a photo being taken by his front-facing camera. What the Hell?!

"Peter!" Pissed at him, you quickly break free and stepped back, but he was already looking at his phone, editing the photo and posting it almost immediately.

You heard your phone buzz when he marked you on the photo.

"That's a good one. You look very cute here."

"What are you doing?!"

"Making a proof we're dating, of course?"

You were taken aback by the sincerity in his voice, and Peter smiled from ear to ear like an excited teenager, showing you the picture: it wasn't that bad, and you looked as if you were slightly embarrassed by Peter's closeness. Oh, of course. He had to convince his friends he was dating you, but he didn't kiss you on the lips that could make other people too suspicious. Instead, friends of Barnes or, say, Thor, would still think it was all for show, and it was their friend who dated you for real.

Shit, Steve's plan was incredibly complicated, and you didn't like it at all.

"Oh, alright." You mumbled, lowering your eyes to the ground, and Peter laughed.

"We'll make a TikTok dance later. If you wanna make people talk, just use your social media." He winked at you and put the phone in the pocket of his pants, resuming walking, and you moved along, your face still hot.

God, what did these guys got you into? You felt like you were lost in the middle of a play, not even having a script to read what was your role in all this.

Before you parted your ways, going to a different classrooms, Peter talked about videogames, the upcoming Resident Evil - apparently, his favorite franchise - and some Dota tournament, but you didn't know much about it, and Peter offered to show you his favorite games "because you can't spend all your time studying!"

He was as careless and sweet as always, but you couldn't get Steve's words out of your mind. Damn, if only you could know for sure that Peter didn't blackmail anyone. Who could you talk to about it? Obviously, not Peter himself, but every time he spoke you had that nagging feeling you needed to talk to him. You barely kept your mouth shut before he went to a different room.

Ugh, why didn't you transfer anywhere else when you still had a chance? Obviously, now you could only drop out of school, and it definitely wasn't something you were going to do.

Luckily, the next couple of hours you were busy with your classes, trying your best to prepare for the upcoming exams. The academy held high standards, and even though you were a good student, it still took lots of efforts to keep up the good work. How Thor even managed to get enrolled, judging by the fact he hated studying and often skipped classes?

Ah yes, he mentioned something about getting a scholarship from the academy for his success in the sport.

By the lunch time you were drained, listening to Peter chatting with an absent-mindedly epxression on your face. Funny enough, Peter's grades were better than yours, even though he spent much less time studying. What, was he some genius like Loki? You felt a little envy.

"I gotta go take my tracksuit, I have PE next," the boy said, and you nodded, throwing away the leftovers of your lunch.

As you stood close while he grabbed his sportclothes, you heard two guys talking behind the lockers to your right.

"Have you seen her today? She's with Parker!"

You tensed immediately. Of course, they were talking about you.

"Yeah, so what?"

"She was with Thor yesterday!"

Watching you froze on the spot, Peter stilled too, listening carefully. Oh shit, you hoped no one cared about who you went with - why should they, in the end - but, apparently, you were drawing too much attention simply because you were a girl among hundreds of male students.

"So what?" The other guy asked impatiently, growing tired of this conversation.

"Are you stupid? She's going out with them! I bet she's looking for a guy." The first student said with excitement, and you cringed. No, you weren't going out with anyone, you wanted to stop the weirdos from following you and steeling your things. Was it too much to ask?

"Yeah, who cares?"

"We have three fucking girls in the whole school, and you don't care if one of them could be going out with you? Besides, this one's pretty. I'd fuck her!"

You felt like you were going to puke any moment. Why on Earth did you decide to transfer to an all-boys school? It was like the whole school were a men’s room filled with stupid-ass guys, and you were locked inside, forced to listen them talk junk.

"You'd fuck a sheep, weirdo. Go get yourself a girlfriend if you can’t stop thinking with your dick.”

Laughing, the guy left, and his friend followed him, shouting something stupid while you breathed out a sigh of relief. Of course, you knew there would be some talk, but you didn’t expect it to be so... gross. Were you really gonna spend the two remaining years here?

Watching you getting frustrated, Peter gently touched you by the arm and said softly, “Don’t worry. They won’t talk rubbish about you.”

“What do you mean?” Suddenly thinking of Steve’s words, you blurted out exactly what you were thinking of the whole day, “Are you going to blackmail them with something?”

“I... what?”

Part VII

__________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic @mariatietacapitu @d3monslust @maybesandohnos @ibeatuptwinks @mangobangi

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #thor x reader #loki x reader #peter parker x reader #dark steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #dark loki #dark peter parker #dark thor #yandere

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ellitx · 3 years

Text

Chapter 9: Infatuation

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

previous || next

art belongs to rome

warning: NSFW content ahead

word count: 5.9k

The rain pounded down, each drop is a small stone, piercing cold. It was still early when the clouds gave off their rain to the grass and trees when the road became alive with more splashes than your eyes could appreciate. Yet together they brought together such a soothing sound, a natural melody every bit as beautiful as soulful hum.

Soon the drizzle turned into a heavy downpour. The sky turned dark as the rain fell rapidly to the ground. Venti grabbed your hand and pulled you to follow him to find a nearby shelter to rest.

It’s been hours since it started and there are still no signs of dying down. Your lips drew out a sigh and watched in silence the pitter-pattering of the droplets on the ground. The bard sat on a nearby ledge and stared at your back, absently tracing the shape of your figure.

His mind wandered of how a certain traveler touched you. It brought great bitterness in his mouth, the taste causing him to have a foul mood for an umpteenth time on this day. How many more outcomes will continue to mess with his mood? He already had enough of it and he refrained himself from losing his temper at the vexing events.

He clenched his fists angrily. The audacity of Aether holding you while you’re asleep and the moment he’s away. His displeasure would come like an impossible build up steam, burning him on the way out, burning the one on the receiving end.

You’ve been tainted.

The idea of your purity and innocence being corrupted swarmed his mind. The thought of another man other than him holding and touching you began to aggravate him even more. If you happen to meet him, will you leave him? His nails digging into his palm caused him to bleed without his knowledge, yet his mind is placed elsewhere.

Not good…

Emerald orbs watchfully kept an eye solely on your form. His breathing was ragged and shaky, his attention meandering everywhere that can’t help still itself. Not good. Not good. Not good. Not good.

Then it was the breaking point of his patience. At that moment, his head was blinded by a fiery serving of rage, fear, and dread all mixed up together that tasted so bitter. He wanted to reach out to you yet his mind is too corrupted to make sense of his surroundings.

You looked over your shoulder and saw Venti’s form was hunched. The way his hands tightly gripped onto his hair immediately worried you if something’s wrong. His hands were shaking vigorously thus you quietly but swiftly approached him and checked up to see what’s going on.

You brushed away his fringe and let your palm rest on his forehead. Your body jolted in surprise at the intense burning heat he was emitting and you grew even more concerned if he has a fever.

In the storm he was facing, in this wind that howls inside of him, you are the gentle center. He decided to indulge himself at your soft touch and rest at your side. It’s becoming torturous that he had to endure everything. You were too close, your scent is becoming so intoxicating— too addicting, your touches were so light he wanted you to press your palm against him even more.

He wanted you so badly. He wants to let everyone know you only belong to him. That they should know where to keep their hands to themselves, but he has to control himself. He doesn’t want to scare you and that’s the last thing he ever wanted.

His pulse sped up and his breathing turned shallow. Of course, he was addicted to you— but for every reason, that is pure and right. You are his safety and his love, an anchor he holds onto, that he was able to pull himself together.

You always give him warmth, consistent love, and patience. That’s why he loves you so much, why his nature trusted you before his mind could too. Innocent, honest, pure, and full of naïveté. What more words can he use to describe you? You are literal perfection to him, you’re just too innocent for him and he can’t control himself anymore the more he thinks about you.

“[Name],”

Venti grabbed your wrist, firm but gentle, and pulled you close. Your whole face flushed when he buried his face on your neck and started biting your neck, giving subtle sucks and licks causing you to slip short moans before shutting it quickly with your hand. He settled you on his lap, straddling the sides of his legs, while his hands roamed over your skirt and lifted it up feeling your soft thighs.

You shut your eyes tightly and gripped his shoulders, not knowing what to do whilst you wonder what’s with the sudden change of his behavior. He tucked your hair behind and gently angled your head to the side to gain more access to your neck and continue nibbling it nonstop.

Your breath turned shaky and a shiver ran down your nerves when his lips brushed your cheek, a shiver that made your whole body tremble. “If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered. When you still said nothing, he moved downwards and lightly kissed your throat. “Or now.” Then he traced the line of your cheekbone, he was so close to you, your lips almost brushing together.

It took you a lot of courage to reach up to him and shyly pull him down to you, his voice was lost against your mouth. He kissed you softly, carefully, and each second that has passed made his kisses intense. The gentleness was now gone and you knotted your fist on his shirt, pulling him harder against you.

He groaned softly, low on his throat, and then his arms encircled you, gathering you against him. His tongue slipped inside your mouth, almost demanding— unlike the last time you did it together— and it’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced. You began to melt, the feeling of his tongue playing with yours caused your whole system to shut down and get lost to the pleasurable sensation he’s doing to you.

Your nails dug deeper on his skin as your veins throbbed and your heart speeding up. Venti opened his eyes and observed your burning face, almost glowing under the raining sky.

He clearly knows he wants you.

All he wanted is just you and nothing else more. The closeness of your body against him is extraordinary. He feels you— all of you— pressed against him just like how he wanted, and he can detect your fragrance. It’s the most addicting scent he could ever imagine. He wants to breathe you, lick you, eat you, drink you, everything as long as he can touch and feel your whole body.

He pulled down your sleeves and untied the ribbon until it made your dress fall off your shoulders, slightly exposing your chest for him. You quivered at the cold winds hitting your skin as his hands started to fondle your supple breasts.

You looked away from him, trying your best not to get embarrassed while he continued to play with your perked nubs and started to give small licks whilst he looked at you. Please, he can do anything with you as long as he doesn’t keep staring and giving you that lustful gaze! You can’t handle it— you really can’t—

“Ngh~!”

You quickly covered your mouth at the sound you have made. His suctions intensified when he heard your cute moan, his hand held your back and dragged you closer. Oh, how he wished to just seize that hands of yours and release all the sounds you produce from his pleasuring, though he didn’t want to risk attracting nearby entities here.

“V-Venti,” You clutched on his shoulders, eyes turning glossy that tears were beginning to form in the corner. “We shouldn’t— we shouldn’t do this here.” You bit back a moan as you stammered. Then your body sharply jerked when he flicked out his tongue and bit on your nipple, bringing you to draw a sharp cry at the sudden action.

His ministrations didn’t cease, though you can see how he raised his hand in the air and closed it into fists. A strong gust of wind flashed past your bare skin, the air chilling your whole body you almost felt frozen on the spot. Your eyes caught the sight of some kind of barrier surrounding the shelter and before you could inspect it further, Venti held your head and pulled you down to a deep kiss.

If what worries you is being caught, then there’s no need to worry about it anymore. He had already created a mist to hide this place and no one can find it as long as he holds the command to the winds. You’ve already accepted his invite and it’s unfair if you’re backing out already.

He yanked your dress until they were out of the way and put them aside, his left hand latched on your wrist to prevent you from covering yourself while the other untied the ribbon fixed on your hair. Your surprised demeanor took him the chance to use the cloth to bind your wrists together, tight but not too much that can hurt you.

He then reached for the ribbon on his cape and loosened it, leaving the cape to fall off from his shoulders as he stretched out towards you to give you one more kiss before he wrapped the cloth over your eyes. Everything went dark and your heart beat faster than ever, you can feel it ring on your ears so loudly that he might even hear how loud it was.

A small lump was sitting on your throat and you let out a shaky breath when he turned you around, your back facing his chest. You can sense how he breathes behind you, hot air down your back which is starting to sweat and slipped down on his clothes. You didn’t want him to see your face now that it is blowing up inside, red and burning hot, grimacing at how his hands slowly wandered dangerously close to your core.

His hands moved so agonizingly slow, it choked you. You swallowed hard in anticipation.

He presses your naked back against his chest fully and your mind went blank all of a sudden.

His fingers slowly go further up your thighs as he rubs small circles into your skin and observes how your breathing picks up from such a simple movement.

He must’ve presumed it’s an indication of excitement, he even attempted to run his hand over your panties, applying the minimum amount of pressure possible to further watch your reaction. Your lips parted and a soft whimper came out. You refrain yourself from grinding against his hand. You didn’t want to aggravate him and the only way is to obey his words if you want his attention to be solely focused on you.

He doesn’t hesitate when he sets aside your panties, brushing his finger around your hardening clit before burying one inside, curling it the way he knows you like it best. You mewled under his touch, trying to hide your voice by biting down on your lips.

You wanted to hold back your moans but it’s almost impossible if he continues to curl his fingers inside you like this, his long digits effortlessly massaging that one spot inside you that turns all your thoughts fuzzy, clouding it with nothing but the feeling of his fingers plunging your insides.

The pleasure you felt intensified and grew even stronger the more he resumed his ministrations. He grows bolder now with his touches, the movements of his fingers quicker now than before that it’s practically a struggle to keep quiet. You bit your lip, hard, desperate not to make a sound, that you could even taste the blood sipping to your tongue.

Your lover hissed as he pumps a second finger inside of you, barely able to make it fit. You squeezed around him every time he presses deeper, your tight cunt almost begging for more even though he wonders if he’ll be able to make anything fit.

“Ahn~! Venti~ hah…”

A moan crawls free from your throat when he presses his fingers against your sweet spot. And once he watches how it makes you gasp and whimper, he gets addicted to it, moving his fingers harsh and fast.

“Shh,” he hushed you near your ears, nibbling and giving teasing licks on the tip, but his voice has no real edge to it. His gaze is soft as he studies your flushed expression, nothing but adoration filling those crystal green eyes as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you.

Your eyes are scrunched tight and your head is settled on his shoulder as he continues to fuck you with his long fingers, practiced digits sliding in and out in ease, curling into that one special spot that always has you crying out for more. You begin to jerk your hips forward to meet his fingers, unable to hold your body back.

“I-I’m close…” you mumbled shyly, closing your eyes when you feel your orgasm drawing near.

“Already?” He teases, but his tone is gentle. You can feel the smirk creeping up to his face even if you can’t see anything. You gulped down and looked away from timidity.

“Hold it a bit longer for me, will you?” You nodded your head and pressed your thighs together when his fingers went deeper inside. He continuously draws it again and again as the pressure inside you is threatening to release.

He moved his fingers in and out three more times, almost rhythmic in his gestures. You want to hold it a bit more, you really do. But his digits playing your clit and curling it around just feels so good that you wanted to release so badly. Your tied hands attempted to reach to find his wrist to catch his attention, it was successful, however, he didn’t dare to stop.

His lips brushed the side of your neck, biting it softly that made your breaths quickened.

“Venti— I’m so close, please! I-I can’t hold it anymore...!”

Your walls clamped down on his fingers with a needy call of his name, as if unable to recall anything other than him and how he’s making you feel this way.

You cried loudly as your body trembled from the increasing tension inside. His fingers were moving faster, deeper, and harder. You curl your toes and square your shoulders, the moans you’ve released can be heard out loud from the ruins if Venti hadn’t quiet you down with a haste kiss.

He let out a sharp hiss when your nails dug into his skin firmly. You don’t know where else to hold on, hands frantically searching anywhere for a hard surface to grip on.

“Please— Venti...!” The blindfold was getting damped while tears fell from the sides of your face as you begged.

“Come.”

In an instant, you feel the familiar pressure rising in you, building up even further—and then you’re cumming on him, slit spasming and clenching all at once as he brushes your folds with his thumb. You’ve released your orgasm all over his hand that smeared his skin— Venti silently adoring the stickiness of your essence and the way it gleams under the raining sky.

Your thighs tremble around his fingers long after he stops moving them, and when your voice has finally died out, he untied the knot from the blindfold, letting it fall onto your shoulder.

You shut your eyes at the blinding light, adjusting yourself to regain your focus that was all blurred and hazy. He withdrew his fingers from you and raised it to study your cum that spread all over him. He looked at you then called your name as he pulled you close.

“Open your mouth.” The sudden command made you jolt in your seat. You looked over your shoulder and raised your brow at him.

“Huh?”

“Open your mouth.” He repeated once more. Hesitantly, you meekly complied to his words, lips parting a bit that was too small for his likeness, but he didn’t complain. He deliberately dragged his fingers inside your mouth and you can taste your essence after he just fingered you.

“Suck on it.”

A command like that would only lead you to a mounting embarrassment catching your entire body aflame, but it wasn't as though you could deny him. Whatever he wanted from you. That was the deal. Still, quieting your moans from his pleasing ministrations would be a difficult task.

Closing your eyes, you brushed your tongue on his salty digits, lapping up all the slicks that came from you. Venti moaned in surprise as your teeth grazed his finger. His eyes meeting yours with a desperation that made you squirm.

He cursed under his breath and buried his face on the crook of your neck pulling you close to his chest. He bit his lower lip and peered at your flushed face that continued to drink his fingers dry. God, the feeling of your tongue giving him small licks then sucking it shyly riled him up so much, urging him to go further.

He bit down on your shoulder gratingly, causing your back to arch in surprise, and choked yourself. Hearing your muffled noise made him draw his hand out in panic. You panted heavily and your lips trembled with each outlet of air, taking in deep breaths as you do so. He can faintly see a small drool slipping down the corner of your lips.

His heart raced at the sight of it and his body went hot abruptly. He took off his hat and put it aside somewhere. He continued to gaze at your disheveled state, swallowing the lump sitting on his throat while he continued to undress.

His hands rummaged to unbutton his shirt, leaving the top open until his chest was bare for you to see, the mark that was the same as yours on his chest faintly gleaming.

His hand flew to your neck to pull you into a deep kiss. You’re quick to indulge him, moaning lightly when Venti bit on your lip and let his tongue dart inside.

You wished to look at his face, expecting only that the expression of aesthetic delight you might find there would correspond to what you knew was your own. But you’d didn’t even catch a glimpse of his face, so instantaneous and urgent was his tongue. It overpowered all the senses that sought to reach some unreachable end from you.

Before Venti could withdraw, his mind was far from its place. His arms were around you and he felt again the rush of helplessness, the sinking yielding, the surging tide of your warmth that left him limp. Your quiet and heated self was blurred and drowned into nothingness.

He bent back your head and kissed you once more. He never gets tired of your kisses and the softness of your lips brushing against his. You clung to him to keep yourself still in your cloudy and hazy mind that was drowning and enjoying the sensation of his lips.

Your kisses were so docile and gentle. So slow and soothing it sends his mind to go all over in place the more he feels your lips pressed against his that he’s begging for more.

Within minutes, his lips are moving against yours, slow and steady, and his hands crept up to hold you by the small of your waist.

You only continued your ministrations, squeezing and massaging his chest as you slowly grind against his thighs.

Time seemed to slow down for him when he opened his eyes, and it dawned on him you’re playing with his mouth— biting and sucking on it before you let out your tongue to alleviate any pains you have caused him.

Your eyes were now shut as well and he noticed you seem to be taking your time to enjoy this moment. Your hips moving back and forth for a more subtle pressure against him and your face— words aren’t even enough to describe how beautiful you are to him— looked so peaceful, so flushed from the orgasm, from the kisses and yet it’s so serene for him.

He can’t help but think that you really are beautiful.

He extended out his hand and untied the cloth wrapped to your wrists, his hands guiding your arms to envelop them around his shoulders. One-touch and the intoxication is instant. Whatever you want to do is what he’ll do and there isn’t a thing he can do to stop you— not that he’d want to.

Just your scent sent him to a heady trance, one that doesn’t end until your bodies are still once more, just warm and snuggled in as close as two souls can be. Venti kissed the center of your chest, tracing out the outlines of the teal mark on your skin with featherlight kisses.

A small laugh escaped from you at the ticklish feeling, your hands tangling to his hair and removing the hair tie on his braids. You kissed the top of his head and caressed his hair lovingly whilst he enjoys himself burying his face between your breasts.

He really is captivated by just your own presence.

Your eyes shut as your heart throbbed as loud as the rain on the tin roof above you. Venti took in your perked nubs in his mouth, finding himself hungry as he was for you. Unreserved fire and desire ran through his nerves, his tongue hastily licking then lapping, tasting your sensitive nipples causing you to release a shaky moan.

The need to touch, be touched, to take and give, nearly overwhelmed you. He placed you on his thighs, holding your hips and helping your body to grind against him, creating more of that delicious friction between the two of you.

Hunger surged inside him. A demand.

More.

"Mhm~!"

You hid your face against his shoulder and bit on it to hold back the moan threatening to leave your lips. Venti hissed, both in bliss and pain, and thrust his hips to meet yours. You were panting heavily against him, the hot breath on his skin excited him further and he can’t get enough of it.

The touch of his hands was so warm on your drenched skin that sent another burst of heat straight to your core and it ached you how you wanted him inside you so badly. He can already sense how damp his short was that came from your leaking cunt.

“Venti…” you whined at the agonizing pain from your core that you could only feel his length against the cloth that separated you from him. “Please… I… I really need you…”

Hearing your words instantly made his mind blank out of nowhere. Did he hear you right? You need him? Is he dreaming? Is this reality?

“Venti, please…!”

He snapped out from his thoughts and looked at your pleading face. If you keep begging like that— face flushed, lips quivering, brows knitted together, eyes glistening with tears— he wouldn’t hold back his lust for you.

He quickly recomposes himself and reaches up to caress your cheek, flashing a gentle smile in your direction. You leaned on his tender touch— a sign that you’re giving him consent and accepting his love for you. The edge of his lips twitched upwards into a small smile, a genuine one at that. “I’ll handle the rest. Close your eyes and relax for me.”

You slowly bobbed your head and proceeded to bury your face on his neck. Venti started to remove your soaked panties, dragging them along your thighs until they were out from your feet and throwing them aside. Your hold tightened, legs trembling from the sheer coldness of the rainy weather. He softly hushed you as he rubbed his hand against your hips to calm you.

You’re getting desperate. Your toes curled in impatience, whining his name once more to remind him you needed him inside you now. “Impatient, are we?” He teasingly cooed to which you hide in embarrassment that he caught you.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get to it soon.” He assured before pecking your hair.

He rested his palm on your hip, helping you lift yourself up as he quickly removed his garments and carefully guided you to his erect length. There’s a choked gasp from his lips when he feels your pussy slowly enveloping his cock, a shudder running up his spine when your hands fly from his cheeks to his shoulders to support yourself.

He instinctively gripped your hips, helping you lower down at your own pace until he was now fully inside of you. You whimper under your breath, feeling yourself start to stretch around him, how it’s becoming more painful than you’ve expected as each second passed by.

He noticed how your chest quickly heaved up and down, panting heavily and moaning audibly with your head tilted sideward. He laced his hand with yours, your fingers tightening until he was all the way inside your tight cunt.

“Hng… S-so good but it hurts!”

You take a shaky breath as soon as he’s fully sheathed inside of you. His heart drops, beginning to panic that you were clearly in pain.

The uneven pace of your breathing is the most obvious thing he noticed, the way your nails are practically digging into his shoulders and the way you’re biting your lip to hide any pained whimpers made it even clearer that he should have prepared you for this better. Did he not stretch you enough when he fingered you?

You take a moment to collect yourself. Venti waits patiently, forcing his hips to remain still every time he feels the urge to jerk upwards, and his efforts are rewarded when you slide your hips upward only to pull them down, eliciting a breathy moan from your lover.

You repeat the same motion once. Then you do it again. And again. And again. And you keep rising and falling on his shaft at these uneven intervals until one angle has you gasping out an unexpected moan.

Venti locked his eyes with you, his hands guiding your hips to move up and down on his length.

You repeated the ministration, head rolling backward when you came down and another breathy gasp spilled from your lips.

And then the slow, tentative fucking completely stops and you’re riding him without hesitation, fingers digging into his back as you moan freely.

It tempted him to jerk his hips upwards to meet yours, to listen to that moan that slipped from your bruised lips. And when he gave in to his desires, his thrust had you gasping and crying out a moan, so breathy and shaky that he engraved it inside his head of how cute and lewd you sounded for him. Then he solely dedicated himself to bounce you in his lap at this angle— one that kept you crying his name endlessly.

All his fingers were mindlessly traveling all over your body to keep you gasping and moaning and clenching and enjoying everything he offers you.

“P-p-please—” you gasped out.

Harder, you want to tell Venti, because he’s being painfully gentle with how slow his thrusts become when your body is already willing to take so much more.

Faster. Deeper. The words bounced around in your mind mockingly as you try to whine your way into getting him to understand them.

Your body sharply twitched when he sunk his cock into you deeply at an alarming pace that your voice was broken when you wailed. Venti doesn’t know what you’re asking for, so he delivers everything he can offer to you. From his mouth latching to your nipples— biting, licking, and sucking on it when your breasts kept bouncing on his face so tauntingly. To his hand going down to rub your clit and to his hips as he gave another harsh thrust against you. All your please and wishes for him are already being granted and he won’t let a single one miss.

There’s no pain as he pushes inside you, only the overwhelming pleasure is filling you up. It’s like your body was specially created for him with how snugly his cock rests inside you, and you almost whined when he pulled you out to begin thrusting because of how much you love the feeling of him inside you.

The loud wail of pleasure you gasped within return tells him that whatever he did, he did it perfectly. You love every single thing he’s doing to you. All of his sensual touches and ministration are making your mind go all hazy, so lost that you could only think of him and his cock inside you.

He can feel something building in your body, your core beginning to tighten around him, and you roll your head back as he continues to bounce you in his lap. Your back is arched so tightly that he worries that you’ll hurt yourself in this position if he fucks you any longer.

Your breasts bounced each thrust he did sending your mind to go on cloud nine, seeing stars with how he keeps hitting that one spot as you wail loudly from the intensive pleasure. Venti watches your figure cautiously, trying his hardest not to shatter the moment, but he finds it impossible when all he can think about is how dangerously your head hangs, how he fears that it's going to roll off if he continues this vicious pace.

“[Name]…” His chest heaved when he said your name. “I love you,” his grip on your waist tightened, pace quickening with each thrust. “I want to fill you up— Moan my name, please. [Name], [Name], [Name]— I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much.“

He can feel himself growing addicted to this feeling, of your wetness around his cock and of your body being so willing to accept him to his fullest. He continued admiring how your eyes are clouded and filled with lust. How your whole face is so erotic for him, your lips drawing out his name, begging to go faster and deeper into you.

“Venti, Venti, Venti— Ah~!! Faster, deeper, please, I beg of you!! Oh god— I-I-“

Nails gripping and scratching both on his shoulders and back, you desperately feel the need to steady yourself, a desire you indulged by wrapping your legs tightly around his waist. A particularly harsh thrust has you gasping out loud, one that sends your mind reeling, cloudy, and blurry. You heard a low groan from him when you harshly bit on his shoulder to muffle down your noises and it turned you on so much you began to feel the pressure inside you increasing.

He feels the beginning of your orgasm before you warn him of it, your body going stiff right as your nails begin to dig into his back. You clamped your thighs around his waist to pull him closer and deeper to you, he continues fucking you, and this is what has you gasping when he pushes you to your climax with a single perfectly-aimed thrust.

“Venti, Venti, Venti—” His name falls from your lips like a chant, every repetition of his name louder with each utter left from your lips. “Right there— don’t stop— hng! Yes, yes, hah~ Venti—”

You moaned his name as you cum around his cock, and it’s to this sensation that he finds himself being pushed over the edge, he tightened his hands where they hold yours so delicately as he pressed forward and buried his head in your neck, the world around him fading as he loses himself in the sensation of you.

For a moment, everything went still.

Your legs tensed around his waist, desperately holding onto your lover as if holding onto the moment. As if trying to savor the sensation of his cock spilling his hot seed into you like you can make it last longer by clinging onto him tighter— and neither of you moved.

There’s only the sound of Venti’s heavy breathing and your muffled panting, both of your minds clouded by pleasure. Your body went limp and he catches you easily as he lets you lean against him to regain your energy.

Once you found the stamina to move, you hummed on his neck and lightly nibbled on it that caused him to softly chuckle. He let you do whatever you pleased while his fingers ran through your long hair that sticks on your sweating body. His head toppled backward, finding his eyelids growing heavier, which allowed you to gain more access to play with his throat using your mouth.

You felt his esophagus vibrated and that’s when you know he was satisfied with your short and quick treatment.

“Venti~” You cooed, smiling as you kissed his nose. Then you went to peck his eyelids, to his cheek, forehead, and lastly to his mouth. He hummed in satisfaction with the sensation of your lips and breasts gently pressed against his. Your fingers then traced the diamond design marked on his chest, silently awing of how it lightly glowed whenever you touched it.

He was still inside you and you seem unaware of it. Maybe the slightest movement can make your whole body sharply twitch or even your walls tighten around his cock in surprise. As much as he’d love to do that and tease you, he kept himself still and just relished in how warm and tight you are taking his whole length even after the recent orgasm he’s done to you.

Venti groaned when you began to pull out of him, his tired arms failed to keep you in place on his lap. Your whole face reddened at the realization that he was desperate to be inside of you, you quickly averted your gaze away from him and reached for your dress to cloth yourself.

However, your hand stopped midway when he called your name. You looked over your shoulder and tilted your head. “Wear my shirt,” He told you under his draped arm that covered his eyes. “Your dress is too thin and it’s still raining.” He reasoned before you could ask.

A small oh elicited from you. Your heart fluttered at the thought he was concerned for your wellbeing. You took the shirt from the ground and slipped your arms in the sleeves, your skin slightly warmed when the soft cotton covered your upper body. Your cheeks flared a bit when you took in the familiar scent lingering on this shirt. It reminded you of him though you faintly smelled something mildly bitter that you don’t recognize.

Your nose scrunched up at the unpleasant scent despite how you can mostly detect the sweet fragrance of fresh cecilias in it. Venti motioned you to come to him, his eyes begging and arms spread out already welcoming you to be next to him. You sighed at his clingy antics yet smiled a bit in amusement at how cute he was.

You grabbed his cape first before settling on his lap once again, ready to indulge him a bit with your affections. “Cover yourself first.” You reminded and draped the green coat to his front. “Hmm,” He snuggled on your hand and placed his head on your chest.

He drifted into consciousness, then back out. The world began to blur, and random images seemed to float aimlessly around in the pool of his thoughts. A brush of a finger caressing his head momentarily brought him back to the outside world, but after a second he was once again lost.

The whole world felt so slow to him, and he tried to keep his eyes open, he really did, but it was too hard, and he was comfortable laying against you. Soon that was all that he was aware of: your soft skin embracing his cold body, the warmth of your arms wrapped around him. His eyes began to drift closed. He was blissfully unaware of what was going around him.

Everything about him feels heavy from his arms to his feet. Hands absently holding your waist, closing his eyes one more time to enjoy the brief darkness as he muttered faintly against your chest,

“Don’t leave me.”

@genshin-idiot

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere venti x reader #venti x reader #genshin impact venti x reader #genshin impact reader insert #venti #yandere venti #yandere #elliwrites #Illusory Sense

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Text

holly's august extravaganza day 26: slowly becoming lovers

for sonia (@pragmaticoptimist34)! i have to confess something - i got so caught up in writing this that i actually forgot to include either of the other two prompts you sent me 🙈 i hope you like it anyway!

second confession - it was supposed to be longer and then it kind of got away from me so i had to draw a line somewhere oops

thanks to @ravens-words, @cosmiicmalex, @halsteadmarchs and liz (sorry, i don't know your tumblr!) for enabling me and to @noxsoulmate for beta'ing!

ao3 | 2.9k | falling in love, fluff, tiny, tiny hint of hurt/comfort, soft tarlos, set between s1 and s2

Things don’t get fixed overnight. They agree to give them a shot, but that doesn’t change the fact that TK is still reeling from his break-up and overdose, nor that Carlos is still hesitant and afraid of pushing too hard at once.

But, slowly, they get to know each other. And, slowly, they start to fall in love.

i. food preferences

“You have to be joking.”

“It tastes like soap, Carlos!”

Carlos groans and drops his head into his hands, shaking his head at this latest revelation from his boyfriend. His boyfriend, who has just made his life—or at least his cooking—a hell of a lot more complicated. “My mamá would have a fit if she could hear you now.”

He almost regrets the words as TK’s eyes alight with interest; he’s been dancing around the topic of his parents for a while now, but it’s not like he can deny what he said. His mom would be having a fit, or possibly attempting to kill TK with a wooden spoon, if she found out that Carlos’s boyfriend was not only a gringo, but one who hates coriander.

“I swear, you won’t even taste it when it’s mixed into the food,” he tries, because coriander is a staple of his cooking, and he can’t even fathom not using it.

But TK just levels him with a firm look. “Yes, I will, Carlos. I’ll always taste it.”

Carlos rolls his eyes at his boyfriend’s theatrics, but sighs, relenting. “Fine. I suppose I can—” He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, as TK throws his arms around him and plants a noisy kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks, babe,” he says, grinning cheekily.

“Yeah, yeah,” Carlos grumbles, but he can’t help but smile.

There’s very little, he’s finding, that he wouldn’t do for TK.

ii. nicknames

It slips out by accident one day.

“TK,” Carlos groans, followed by a gasp as TK moves just right, sending sparks of pleasure down his spine. “TK, Ty—”

TK instantly freezes on top of him and Carlos’s eyes open, concern rising in him as he takes in the pensive look on his boyfriend’s face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I…” TK shakes his head and forces a smile. “It’s nothing. I’m good, I promise.” He ducks down to kiss Carlos again, but the mood is all wrong, and Carlos gently pushes him back, raising an eyebrow. TK holds out a moment longer, then sighs and rolls away, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s stupid.”

Carlos tuts, reaching over to brush a hand through TK’s hair. “Bet you $20 it’s not.”

“Hope you have $20 then, Reyes,” TK says wryly. He looks over at Carlos and sighs again, biting his lip. “It’s just… You called me Ty.”

“Oh.” Carlos’s eyes widen and he props himself up on an elbow. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking; it won’t happen again—”

TK presses a finger against his lips, cutting him off abruptly. He smiles softly, then removes his finger and caresses Carlos’s cheek. “It’s okay,” he says. “More than okay, actually. I… I’ve always hated my name, but, I don’t know, I guess it sounded right? Like, when you said it? I think I’d kill anyone else who tried, but I really liked it coming from you.”

“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that because—”

Carlos is again cut off, this time by TK’s lips on his. TK moves so that he’s straddling Carlos again, hands pressed against his chest. “I’m sure,” he whispers, a grin playing at his mouth. “Now, weren’t we in the middle of something?”

iii. religion

Christmas sneaks up on him that year. Between helping the city recovering from the solar storm, work in general, the pandemic, and building his relationship with TK, Carlos has completely lost track of the months, until it’s a week before the date and he has nothing planned.

Really, it’s never been a big deal for him; he and his family used to attend mass and make an event out of it when he was a kid, but now he’s an adult, he’s often working, and he hasn’t been to church regularly since he was a teenager. But this year is different. This year, he’ll be spending it with TK, their first Christmas together, and he wants to make it special.

But he’s left it too late—nothing he orders online will arrive in time, the shops are becoming a nightmare, and he honestly has no clue where to even start. So Carlos resigns himself to another quiet Christmas, frustration and disappointment welling in him at the thought of telling his boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out one night over dinner, the thought having been gnawing at him for days.

TK raises a brow. “For?”

“Christmas,” Carlos sighs, looking down into his stew. “It’s our first one together and I had all these plans, and then I just sort of… I didn’t forget! But things have been so crazy, and—”

He’s cut off when TK lays a hand on his. When Carlos looks up at him, TK seems to be fighting back laughter, which is confusing at best and potentially mildly insulting at worst.

“Babe,” TK says, grinning, “it’s okay. You might not believe me, but I forgot too. Christmas wasn’t really a thing growing up—my mom’s Jewish, so I used to celebrate Hanukkah on the years I stayed with her, and Dad was working more often than not. I don’t care, I promise.”

Carlos blinks. “You’re Jewish?” Surely he would know if… But they’ve never discussed religion before, and Carlos had kind of assumed TK had the same ideals as him about the church. In hindsight that was stupid and presumptuous, and Carlos can’t quite believe he’d do something like that. An apology is on the tip of his tongue, but TK just shrugs, going back to his stew.

“Half,” he says. “I don’t really practice anymore but I still keep the beliefs with me, if that makes sense?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

TK smiles at him, and Carlos suddenly realises that this holiday season will be special after all, even if they don’t celebrate anything. Because he’s with TK, which is the most special thing in the world.

iv. how they sleep

Carlos has been sleeping alone for a long time. He’s had a couple of short-term boyfriends and the odd hook-up here and there, but he’s never had someone else in his bed regularly—certainly not regularly enough to get used to it.

TK was hesitant at first to stay over, but once he started to be more comfortable, it was almost a given that they’d be sleeping together whenever their shifts allowed.

And it had been an adjustment.

TK had warned him he tended to move around and be clingy in his sleep, but Carlos hadn’t quite understood what that meant, until now. He is, essentially, trapped under TK, his arms pinned to his sides and one leg thrown over his hip. TK’s head is pillowed on Carlos’s shoulder and his breath is fanning in soft puffs over his skin.

The only way he can move is if he wakes TK up, and there’s no way Carlos is going to do that. His boyfriend looks so peaceful, and Carlos is more than happy to be clung onto like a koala to a branch if it keeps that expression on his face.

In fact, he thinks he can get used to this very easily.

v. pda

In private, their days are filled with gentle touches and stolen kisses. Carlos will be cooking breakfast and TK will slip his arms around him, kissing the back of his neck. TK will be doing one chore or another and Carlos will brush a hand over his back or gently nudge him as he walks past.

But in public, it’s a whole other story.

It’s almost reflexive, the way TK reaches for Carlos’s hand as they’re walking down the street. It’s something they do all the time at home, and even with their friends, but this time, Carlos immediately tenses, seemingly automatically pulling his hand away.

“You okay?” he asks, frowning.

Carlos takes a deep breath, then obviously plasters on a smile, retaking TK’s hand—and TK can feel the tension in the gesture. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” TK gently lets go of Carlos and smiles reassuringly up at him. “It’s okay if you’re not comfortable with touching in public.”

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. This is all on me; I should have asked.”

“But—”

“But, nothing.” He carefully bumps their soldiers together. “You’re entitled to your boundaries, I’m just sorry for overstepping. Tell me next time, please?”

Carlos hesitates, but nods, a gentle press of their arms a silent acknowledgment of agreement and understanding.

vi. scars

Carlos, TK has noticed, likes to pay extra attention to his bullet scar. Whether it’s pressing a gentle kiss over it when they’re in bed, or brushing it with his fingers when wrapping an arm around him, it happens too often for TK to believe it’s anything but intentional.

He doesn’t understand it at first.

Then he discovers Carlos’s own scars.

“What’s this?” he asks, tracing over the thick raised scarring on Carlos’s side. It stretches along the curve of his waist and round his back, and TK has no idea how he hasn’t noticed it before.

Carlos cranes his neck, letting out a hum when he sees what TK’s looking at. His head flops back down on the pillow and he closes his eyes, absently stroking up and down TK’s sides.

“It was...three years ago, maybe?” he says. “I got stabbed on a call. They told me it was pretty touch-and-go for a while, but they fixed me up and I was back at work in a month.”

His eyes are still closed, body completely relaxed, but TK can’t take his eyes off the scar. He reaches up to his own scar, and he gets it.

Carlos’s eyes crack open. “TK?”

“I’m good,” TK murmurs. He breaks his gaze from Carlos’s abdomen and smiles at him. “We both are.”

And if, after that day, Carlos notices him paying more attention to that scar, he doesn’t say anything.

vii. penguin or panda

“You’re out of your mind!”

In Carlos’s defence, a zoo date had seemed like a good idea. He knows TK loves animals, and he himself grew up around them, so in theory, a trip to Austin Zoo should have been the perfect time to get to know each other better while enjoying the day.

Turns out, TK has some very strong opinions on animals, and is willing to budge for absolutely no-one.

“I can’t believe you think penguins are cuter than pandas! I mean, look at them, Carlos!” He gestures emphatically to the panda enclosure, where one is napping on a log. It’s pretty cute, Carlos has to admit, but…

He shrugs. “But remember when the penguins were all huddling together?”

TK makes a noise of outrage, and Carlos has to laugh, then some more at the wounded pout he gets for it. “Is this really a thing for you?” he asks. “Like, is this going to be the dealbreaker for us?”

TK folds his arms and levels him with a stern look. “That depends,” he says. “Meerkats or koalas?”

And, just because he knows it will rile TK up more, Carlos grins and answers, “Meerkats.”

(They don’t break-up over it, but Carlos isn’t so sure that TK will be forgiving him any time soon.)

viii. special interests

“Say you could go back to a moment in history, but only once,” TK says, out of the blue, breaking the comfortable silence of the front room. Carlos stops carding his fingers through TK’s hair and looks down at him, curious. “Where would you go?”

Carlos opens his mouth, but TK doesn’t give him a second to answer. “Is it cliché if I said I’d go to Stonewall? I mean, I’d really like to see dinosaurs in the flesh, or—oh! I was, like, obsessed with pirates as a kid; I thought they were the coolest things ever, and I pretty much idolised Anne Bonny. But I’m pretty sure I’d die immediately if I went to either of those places, so…”

He trails off, a blush rising on his cheeks. “Sorry, I’m boring you.”

“No!” Carlos rushes to say. “No, you’re not. I love history, I just… What makes you ask?”

“It’s something we got into at the station earlier. Mateo brought it up first, I think?”

Carlos hums, pursing his lips in thought. “I guess…” He sighs and shakes his head. “It’s too hard. There’s so many places I’d want to go and people I’d want to meet.”

“But if you had to pick?” TK pushes, sitting upright and looking at Carlos with interest.

“I really want to meet Eleanor of Aquitaine, but if I could only go to one place…” He hesitates and thinks it over some more, but then his eyes catch on the masks hanging along the stairway, and he’s sure. “Tenochtitlan, but before Cortés arrived. It was a whole society, and I just think it would be so cool to see it up close and to know what it was like first-hand. I mean, I’ve read a lot of books, but we don’t have much from the Mexica people, a lot is from the conquerors, and—”

Carlos stops and huffs a laugh. “Now I’m the one boring you,” he says, but TK shakes his head, eyes bright.

“Tell me more.”

ix. coffee order

TK accepts the coffee without even thinking about it, even taking a sip before he realises he never told Carlos what his order was. He curses himself but resolves to drink it anyway; TK isn’t too much of a coffee snob, and he’s certainly not going to reject anything his boyfriend brings him.

He takes a second sip, and he’s so caught up in making a mental note to tell Carlos next time that it takes a minute for the taste to register. And…

It’s his order.

He looks sharply up at Carlos, who is smiling into his own coffee—therefore dispelling any notion of this being an insanely good guess. “How did you know?” he asks, bewildered.

The tips of Carlos’s ears turn pink, but the smile doesn’t leave his face as he looks up at TK. “Our first real date,” he says. “You mentioned that this was your go-to order.”

And TK can’t do anything but stare, because their first date was weeks ago, and Carlos still remembered, and it’s just…

He thinks—no, he knows—he’s falling in love.

x. fears

“Weirdest fears, go.”

TK has to laugh at the perplexed look Carlos sends him at the question, the straw of his boba hanging out of his mouth. Now that they’ve figured a sort of rhythm out between them, they decided to try the boba place again—there have been no emergencies or disasters so far, so TK is counting it as a win.

“Come on,” he continues. “Last time we were here, you said we barely knew each other—which was true—so now we’re going to fix it.”

Carlos’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “By telling each other our weirdest fears?”

“Exactly!” TK grins. “I’ll go first if you’re too chicken. Mine is slicing my hands open or cutting some fingers off with ice skates.”

“What?” Carlos breathes, disbelief all over his face. “I’ve never been ice skating but I’m pretty sure your hands aren’t supposed to go anywhere near the blades.”

“I didn’t say it was rational.” TK sips his boba, raising an eyebrow at Carlos. “Your turn.”

Carlos swallows, suddenly very interested in the table. “I, uh. When I was a kid, my Tía Lucy had a snake get into her pipes. She only discovered it when she went to the toilet one morning and it was just...sitting there in the bowl. I was terrified for years that the same would happen to us, and it’s kind of become a reflex to check.”

“Oh my god.” TK can’t help but burst out laughing, even though he feels bad for it as Carlos covers his face with his hands. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a real thing for you, I just…”

But Carlos’s shoulders are shaking too and, bizarrely, TK really does feel closer to him now.

It’s a good feeling.

xi. long-term commitments

Carlos is surprised when TK is the one to bring it up first.

“Do you ever think about the future?” he asks one day, head in Carlos’s lap, staring up at the ceiling.

Carlos pauses the show he’s technically supposed to be watching and quirks an eyebrow at his boyfriend. “Sure,” he says. “What about the future exactly?”

TK hesitates, and his voice comes out a lot quieter when he next speaks. “Like…” He sighs, a small flush rising on his cheeks. “The future. Our future. Us. Maybe...marriage, or…”

He trails off, practically whispering by the end of it. His gaze has shifted from the ceiling to the frozen TV screen and he’s chewing on his bottom lip, body stiff with tension. “Sorry,” he mutters. “Forget about it.”

But Carlos is learning to read TK, and he knows he was looking for reassurance. “I mean, yeah,” he says. “I think about it. Do you?”

TK stares up at him, wonder in his eyes. “After New York, I thought… But yeah. Yeah, I do.”

They share a smile as they lock eyes, and Carlos knows that they’re on the same page here. That, distant though they may be, both of them can hear wedding bells in their future.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #911ls #lone star #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #holly's august extravaganza #pragmaticoptimist34

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sparring-hyena · 3 years

Text

love language.

you know what time it is, folks: i ramble about random things for a few hundred words :)

OR, Poppy’s journey to realising she’s in love, and all the ways she says “i love you,” without actually saying it until she finally does.

i. giving gifts.

this starts off as an accident.

she’s out walking around the city when she finds herself in a store packed tight with random knick-knacks. and that’s when she finds a ceramic cactus sitting between a dusty old lamp and rubber band ball.

she’s not sure why she decides to buy the cactus. or why she thinks it would look nice on AJ’s desk beside her stack of textbooks. but it’s not like she’s actually going to give it to her. that would be ridiculous.

so she takes the ceramic cactus home. tries to find a place for it in her room, but it never looks right. because when she looks at it, all she can think of is AJ and that it should be in her room instead.

and maybe she accidentally gives the ceramic cactus to AJ the next time she sees her. but it’s nothing, okay?

ii. acts of service.

this one is strange, she thinks. strange because there really isn’t any reason that they would do things for each other. that they would go out of their way to do things for each other. and yet...

“you really didn’t have to bring me soup, y’know?” AJ says.

“you’re sick. obviously i’m going to bring you soup.”

“i wouldn’t want you catching whatever i’ve got, is all.”

“i don’t get sick.”

“i’m touched that you’re using your superpower to help me then.”

Poppy rolls her eyes at the comment, but does little to suppress her smile.

“but if you do get sick, i promise that i’ll bring you soup too.”

“you’d better. now shut up and eat your soup.”

Poppy does get sick a week later. but true to her word, AJ brings soup and medicine and sleeps over every night until she’s better.

iii. quality time.

they aren’t dating. if they were dating there’d be grand romantic gestures. probably fancy dinners and quiet mornings in. what they’re doing is decidedly not that.

see, currently they’re sitting on the kitchen floor eating dry cereal straight from the box because... actually, Poppy doesn’t know why they are. she’d just come over and found AJ already on the floor with a box of cereal.

and it’s not like she came over because she wanted to. AJ had texted. had asked if she would. and obviously she did and now she’s not so sure if that actually helps prove her point of not.

but whatever, that’s not the point. the point, she guesses, is that they’re sitting on the floor eating dry cereal. and it’s not like she’s actually enjoying it anyway. she’s definitely not enjoying the way their sides are flush together. and she’s absolutely not enjoying the way AJ’s drawing random things on her leg that she’ll just have to wash off later. and—

“thank you for coming over tonight,” AJ says, eyes focused on drawing.

“of course,” Poppy says, her voice quiet like a promise, because of course she’s going to come if AJ asks her to.

she presses a kiss to AJ’s shoulder. and AJ smiles quietly to herself as she finishes her drawing.

and okay, maybe they are dating.

iv. physical touch.

so they’re dating. so what? no big deal. it’s not like it’s— no, Poppy’s not even going to think the word. why bother thinking it when it’s not what they are?

“you alright?” it’s AJ’s gentle voice that brings Poppy out of her thoughts.

“hmm?”

“you okay? you seem spacey.” and then AJ reaches across table to place her hand on top of Poppy’s.

and the touch sends some kind of spark zapping through Poppy. not like static electricity though. because she doesn’t at all want to pull away.

“yeah, just tired.”

“sorry for dragging you out then. i know it’s late.”

“it’s fine. i like spending time with you.” and that... she hadn’t mean to say that. the admission had just sort of slipped through her lips. and now she holds her breath in her throat, because AJ is bound to make a comment about that. and then they’ll both laugh and pretend it means nothing, even though it means everything. but no comment comes.

AJ just smiles and says, “me too,” and then goes back to reading the menu in front of her. but she doesn’t pull her hand away. in fact, she links their fingers together on top of the table and then gives Poppy’s hand a little squeeze. almost like she knows Poppy is looking.

the gesture fills Poppy with something warm and makes her wonder maybe it is—

then her heart thumps in her chest and her stomach leaps and flips because this is new, this is exciting. it sends little jolts out to her fingers and toes. makes her smile secretly to herself as she dips her head to look at the menu that she’s not at all focusing on because her hand is still in mine and now she’s rubbing her thumb in circles and— oh.

oh.

crap. maybe it is love.

v. words of affirmation.

it takes a while to get here. there are bumps along the way—secrets and fights and misunderstandings. but they work through it all. learn to communicate and kiss it all better.

so when they’re alone in AJ’s room one night. showered and dressed in warm and soft clothes to ward of the chill that set in weeks ago. Poppy looks up from her phone and finds AJ finishing an essay at her desk.

she breathes, “i love you,” almost like a sigh of relief.

“what was that, babe?” AJ looks away from her laptop, face scrunched up in adorable confusion.

Poppy smiles and slips out of AJ’s bed and goes to straddle her in the desk chair. the position’s a little awkward and uncomfortable, but AJ holds on tight to Poppy and makes sure she won’t fall.

AJ smiles up at Poppy with that dopey grin that’s so earnest and open and carries no expectations.

“i love you,” she says again, whispered like a promise into the small space between them.

AJ beams that megawatt smile, and Poppy can’t help but feel like they’re the only two people in the world.

“what a coincidence, because i love you too.”

then their lips meet in a gentle and brief kiss, and when they pull apart, Poppy rests her forehead against AJ’s with a smile on her face because suddenly everything makes so much more sense.

#my writing #poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #queen b #playchoices

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missmonsters2 · 4 years

Text

Between the Lines || XI

PAIRING: Steve Rogers & Fem!Reader (Platonic) / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Vampire AU. Life has changed drastically since the 1600s. Things are always on the move, and you’ve been very careful to not get on SHIELDs radar. Living on the down-low owning a café, you’re content to live out a quiet existence. That is until the Avengers enter your life.

[Set after the New York Invasion, in CAWS, and goes up to AoU. Canon divergent after.]

Warnings: This series will contain smut(**), poly-relationship, and dark themes.

Note: Hiatus is over hopefully and we’re on the last arc! Shit is gon’ happen so strap yourselves in and enjoy the ride 👏🏻👏🏻

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V || PART VI || PART VII || PART VIII || PART IX || PART X

PART XI of XX

Count: 5,532

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Hot.

Your body felt hot, and there was something deliciously thick going down your throat.

Blood.

You could taste it so very clearly.

You could feel your body healing, the bullet holes mending themselves until there was nothing left, and your body in pristine condition.

Thumping.

You could hear a pounding in your ears and then a soft, breathy moan.

You wanted to be closer.

Your hand presses against the wall as your other hand presses the warmth closer to you.

God, you could get lost in this forever as you swallow a mouthful of blood.

"Ah..."

The sound is both melodic and also a warning bell to you.

You need to stop.

You have to stop.

Your hand presses against the wall harshly as you feel it break as you curl your hand in an attempt to pull yourself away.

The tight grip of Wanda's legs around your waist starts to loosen as you pull your mouth away from her neck. She's still holding you close, and you don't move your head too far from her neck.

The thumping of her heart feels weaker, and you purse your lips, disappointed with yourself. You clean the drip of blood trailing down her throat, ignoring the way Wanda's breath still hitches before your lick at the bite wounds at her neck.

Soon enough, the bite marks begin to disappear, leaving Wanda's neck bare and unblemished, but a slight red overtone stain from her blood.

When you pull back enough to see her face, Wanda looks drowsy.

"I'm sorry," you swallow. "I went overboard."

Wanda shakes her head lightly, feeling dizzy from just the motion.

"It's fine," she says, "I didn't mind."

Wanda tries to stand up, but it's too much as her legs give way, and she falls. You catch her before her knees hit the ground.

You purse your lips before you hook your arm under the back of Wanda's legs, pulling her up to carry her.

Wanda rests her head against your shoulder as you carry her out. When the door opens, you're met with everyone waiting outside to see if you were okay.

You see Natasha standing there, looking at the two of you, and you feel like you've been punched in the stomach. But you don't get much time to dwell on it when Pietro comes up to you, worry all over his face when he looks at his sister.

He squints his eyes at you, and it doesn't faze you as you are to blame for her state.

"She's okay," you tell him quietly. "She just needs some rest and lots of fluids."

"I'll get her some juice. We should be landing soon, so I'll whip up something for her to help," David offers as he takes off.

Pietro looks like he wants to take Wanda from your arms, but you cock your brow at him.

"You'll drop her in your state if you try to carry her," you tell him, looking at his bullet wound specifically and how he was hunched over slightly.

Pietro scowls but relents as he follows you to the room next door as you set Wanda down gently. Your hand moves to gently get her to let go of your jacket, and you set the blanket over her.

As you get up to leave, Pietro stops you.

He presses his lips together, frowning initially before he lets out a sigh. "Thank you."

You merely nod, patting his shoulder gently before you leave him alone with his sister.

When you leave, you're on a one-track mission to talk to Natasha, but before you can even reach her, Maria intercepts. It seemed Fury was looking for you to get some details regarding the mission and had some questions.

You scrunch your nose as you look at Natasha.

"We can talk later," Natasha says quietly so only you can hear as she nods.

You sigh, looking at her forlornly before you follow Maria.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

There's a wave of peace when you arrive back in New York. You never thought you would feel this way about a place. A part of you thinks that maybe it's not the place, but the fact that you're here with all the people you care about.

Your family.

Talking with Fury had taken longer than you wanted, giving you no chance to speak with Natasha.

Everyone heads back to the Stark Tower. At first, you were going to follow along with them, but Natasha holds your hand, drawing you back while shaking her head.

"Let's head back to your place," Natasha says quietly.

You gulp.

"Okay."

You feel it must be a good sign still with Natasha holding your hand as she leads you away to her car, though she's quiet the entire ride, making no move to talk. So, you also sit quietly as you watch the scenery out the window.

Natasha walks herself straight to your bathroom when she enters your home. You feel grimy yourself and head to a different washroom yourself to clean up.

You finish before Natasha, and you head over to the kitchen to make her a drink. Unsure of what Natasha wanted to say or how she would react, you didn't think it would hurt to try to bribe her with a drink. It has turned quite late into the night, so you decide to make her a tea instead of coffee.

You go to sit on the sofa, quietly putting soft music in the background in an attempt to soothe yourself as you idly feel the soft fabric underneath your fingers.

Soon enough, you hear the water turn off in the washroom, and Natasha comes out, fresh and clean, with a towel around her neck as she dries her hair.

Warmth spreads over your chest as Natasha comes to sit on the sofa, right next to you. You hand her the drink, and she quirks her brow at you with a slight curve in her lip as she takes it.

Humming after she takes a sip, she sets the drink down, towel discarded to the side as she looks at you.

You purse your lips.

"I--"

You're cut off when Natasha launches herself at you, her lips hitting yours roughly as she slides her fingers across your jaws.

Surprise takes over you as you automatically reach over to wrap your arms around Natasha's waist. She bites your lower lip, rather hard, and you wonder if this is a punishment.

When she pulls back, the two of you are a little breathless.

"Are you...upset?" You ask slowly, scrunching your brow and licking your bottom lip to soothe the pain Natasha inflicted.

Natasha leans back, settling to rest her head between your shoulder and neck as she sighs deeply and heavily.

"Yes, and no," she answers after moments of silence. Your arms are still wrapped around her as your fingers slide down her arm. You place your hand gently atop of Natasha's.

You don't say anything because it seems like Natasha is still putting her thoughts together.

"I'm not mad," Natasha decides. "I know that what you did was out of necessity. You were severely injured, and the only person who could help you was Wanda."

You could sense the lingering at the end of her sentence.

"But...I don't know. Seeing you with her, so...lost within her...it was different. I understand it, I really do, and on top of that, Wanda is a beautiful girl," Natasha sighs.

You nod, knowing Natasha could feel it.

"I'm not mad," Natasha repeats.

"Then?" You lick your bottom lip.

Natasha turns her hand around to lace her fingers with yours, pursing her lips, annoyed by how she's unable to describe how she feels.

"I don't know."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You were miffed.

With David specifically.

The offender was aware since you've ignored him for a couple days now and haven't looked once in his direction.

You stood with everyone at the Stark Towers as they talked casually. The place is currently being repaired right now after all the damage done by Ultron, but it was still standing for the most part.

Tony talked about how he wanted to build a new compound for the Avengers and was considering either selling the Stark Tower or just taking it back for his company.

You were standing at the side, between Steve and Natasha, as you tap your foot idly.

David stood across from you, staring at you while you pointedly didn't look at him, mouth pressed in a firm line.

A part of you wanted to be rational.

It's not like you were unaware of the circumstances. Drink from Wanda or risk killing everyone on the helicarrier, and also killing yourself in the process.

And by God knows, no one would've been able to stop you.

But...you were still so angry.

David knew the consequences of this, and he took it, and you could not blame him for it.

"You can't ignore me forever," David says quietly, moving his mouth so quickly, no one can hear but you.

You don't say anything.

"Ignoring me isn't going to solve anything, and you know it," David continues on. "We need to talk now, and I'll make a scene if I have to."

You pause for a moment, eyes flittering over to Wanda, who is standing next to David along with Pietro. She's got her brow raised as if she could hear the conversation between the two of you. You don't doubt the possibility that she could.

You look at David, who is staring at you challengingly. Making a scene would be awkward, but you felt childish, wanting to ignore David a little more.

So, you called his bluff.

And he proved you wrong.

David barrels into you, tackling you into the empty space as everyone gasps, tensing as they want to break up the fight but knowing they physically would be unable to do so.

"Stop being so stubborn!" David yells at you, atop of you, and you bare your teeth at him.

Being older brings advantages; David knows that as you flip him over, toppling him underneath you.

"You know exactly why I'm pissed at you!" You snarl at him.

David goes limp in your hold, sighing as he does so.

"I know," he says quietly, "and I'm sorry, but there wasn't any other choice."

Hearing David apologize to you even though you knew it wasn't really his fault made you grimace.

God, you were such an ass sometimes.

You sigh, loosening your grip on David as you stand up, pulling him up with you.

"What...the hell was that?" Tony says, staring in disbelief at you two.

"Just a disagreement," you mutter as you rotate your shoulder to relocate it back into place.

Natasha purses her lip at you as you walk back up to her.

You shrug at her, not really wanting to get into it again.

"We've got some things we have to discuss first, we'll meet up with you guys later," David announces, pulling you with him as you frown.

Everyone just blinks at the two of you exist the room, and head to the rooftop. Once up there, you feel a slight breeze and can smell how fall is approaching.

"Are you done being pissed at me?" David asks as the two of you look over the railing at the city.

You exhale heavily through your nose.

"I know it's not your fault," you tell David, "but I would have preferred it more if you took me and jumped off the helicarrier and have our bodies be obliterated when we hit the ground."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time we encounter this problem," David smiles wryly.

"You put me in a horribly awkward situation, David, nevermind the consequences of it," you sighed, pressing your temples with your hand before rubbing your face.

"How did Natasha take it?" David asked.

You shrug. "She didn't really take it any way at all. She said she doesn't know how she felt about it. She's neither upset nor okay with it, but she understands."

"That must be better than her being pissed at you," David shrugs.

"I don't know," you say, "I know how to deal with pissed, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do when even she doesn't know how she feels."

"And Wanda?" David probes.

You tense up immediately at her name, David catching it immediately.

"That bad or that good?"

You turn to glare at him.

"Sorry."

You turn back to the city skyline.

"I don't know," you tell him honestly, blinking slowly. "She looks incredibly so much like Tatyana, and yet, I know distinctly it's not her. She's both familiar and new to me. A part of me understands I'm the only link to explaining her family's past, but I feel like I need to keep my distance as well, even though I can't now."

"Why? Did you feel something for her?" David asks.

"A little too much," you wryly admit. "It was terrifying, honestly."

"But?" David probes some more.

You look at him. "But I am in love with Natasha."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You and David stay on the rooftop for a while just to enjoy the quiet while you can before you head back to have the real serious talk.

When you come down, you see that everyone had still stayed in the room, loitering as if they weren't waiting for the two of you to go back.

Natasha looks at you, and you nod, telling her that you and David were okay. David looks at Natasha and gives her his dashing smile that she returns in small.

"We need to talk," you say in a sobering tone, looking at Wanda, while you make a move to grab Natasha's hand.

Wanda stares at you, not saying anything as she tilts her head.

"About what?" Pietro cuts in, looking at you with a frown.

"Пьетро," Wanda says, accent thick as she grabs his arm to calm him down. "About what?" Wanda asks as she turns her head back to you.

You look around the room as if to tell everyone else this is a private matter.

"Oh no," Tony says, leaning against a counter. "We're all in this together now. Share with the class."

Steve was the only other person in the room, and he nodded his head firmly at you in more of a supportive way than Tony.

You let out a long sigh as you turn back to Wanda.

"It's about...what happened when I fed on you," you say slowly and rather awkwardly, feeling Natasha's hand tighten around yours.

Wanda licks her lips.

"You've probably figured out by now that I know an ancestor of your guys'," you say.

"That woman I've seen in your head..." Wanda brings up, and you grimace.

"Yeah, her," you confirm.

"Wait, what?" Pietro says, swerving back to look at his sister. "She knows someone in our family tree, and you didn't say anything?"

"I didn't know for sure," Wanda shrugs.

"How did you know her? Was that why you were looking for us?" Pietro asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"Her name was Tatyana. She was..." you clear your throat. "She was...my lover. But yes, she was partly why I was looking for the two of you. But the truth is, every time there is a new descendant, I always look for them. Although somewhere along the way, I lost track because your great-great-grandfather decided to have multiple children in secret."

"So, we actually have a big family we don't know about?" Pietro scrunches his eyebrows together.

You shake your head. "No, you two are the sole surviving people left in your family. Everyone else has rather lived short lives or died due to an accident or illness."

Pietro continues to stare at you suspiciously but moves on. "You say this Tatyana woman was our ancestor, but how did we come to be if she was your lover."

"Tatyana had a life before me," you shrug. "She never really talked about it, but she was in an arranged marriage when she was younger and had a child. Of course, her husband took on a second wife since it was common back in the day. It wasn't the life she wanted, and she had never been inclined to children. Leaving was easy for her."

"She was...a witch," Wanda says slowly as if to confirm with you.

"Yes," you nodded stiffly. "Her...powers is genetic."

"But I didn't have any powers when I was born. I was given it through the scepter," Wanda argued.

You lick your lips. "Over the years, your bloodline was diluted. The powers are genetic, but with Tatyana, but since no one in the family ever married another witch or warlock, the powers became weaker and weaker every time until there was basically nothing. In this day and age, you would be so lucky to even find a true witch or warlock by blood because they're all in hiding, though the stake burning has stopped."

"Then...the scepter..." Wanda pondered.

"You may not have had obvious powers, but you probably experienced smaller things as a child. A feeling you couldn't ignore, a dream that came true, something buzzing at your fingertips, but you just couldn't explain it. The scepter unlocked that gene within you. It jumpstarted the powers you had inside all along," you theorize.

Wanda looked at you in shock, confirming that she experienced those things in her youth.

"Why didn't I get the same gift as Wanda then if I have the gene too?" Pietro asked.

You shrug. "I'm only guessing. I've never actually seen any males in your family tree display any inkling of a gift. I'm assuming the scepter had more of play in powers for you."

Pietro hums, looking at his sister before shrugging and moving on.

"Well, a great history lesson. You slept with my ancestor, is that what you wanted to tell us?" Pietro cocked his brow with a smirk, and you roll your eyes.

"No, I wish it were just that," you sigh inaudibly, feeling your stomach drop as you looked back at Wanda.

"The day I fed from you...did you feel anything happen to your body after?"

Wanda cocked her brow at you, and you felt your cheeks warm and forced it down before it could physically show on your face.

"I mean, like, a burning...no, I mean...did you feel any pain afterward?" You stumbled over your words, not even daring to look at Natasha as you kept holding her hand. "Specifically, did any of your bones hurt?"

Wanda stares at you a moment longer before nodding slowly. "I did," she says. "I felt something here like it was on fire...I assumed it was because too much blood was taken." She points to her sternum.

You pursed your lips, feeling suspicion rise higher inside.

You turn to Tony. "Do you have an x-ray machine here?"

"I do," Tony raises one of his brows.

"Why do you need an x-ray?" Pietro asked, mildly alarmed.

You didn't answer as Tony led everyone out of the room into the medical bay area where there were multiple body x-ray scanning machines, though many of the devices but two were crushed when Ultron attacked the tower.

You had to let go of Natasha's hand as you walk up to Wanda, who is looking at your own sternum for a moment before looking back at you.

"I need to confirm if what I believe is true," you tell her softly, asking her to get onto the machine.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Wanda says with a slight raise of her brow and a tiny quirk in her lips like she knows you're hiding something underneath.

You purse your lips, not really wanting everyone to see what is in your body, but you know it's only fair if you're asking Wanda.

"Alright," you agree with a nod.

"Are you serious?" David blinks in disbelief, and Natasha turns to him with curious eyes.

You shrug.

"It was bound to come out at some point...I wanted to show Nat sometime anyways," you look over at your girlfriend with a smile, feeling slightly guilty about hiding things still.

Both you and Wanda get onto the machine while Tony operates it to get a CT scan of the bones.

The scan is over relatively quickly, doing the front and back as you both make it out of the room to join the crowd around the monitor.

The images slowly load.

"Jesus Christ," Steve exclaims under his breath.

"What the fuck," Tony squints his eyes as if he doesn't believe what he's seeing.

Though both pictures showed up, yours drew all the attention.

Marks and drawings were engraved into your bones everywhere on the front and back of your ribs like they were tattoos.

"What are these?" Natasha asked as she leans in to take a closer look at the images.

"They're searings from a priest," you tell them, turning your attention to Natasha.

"Leo?" She asks quietly.

You nod your head, blinking languidly as you look at her face.

"What's it for?" Steve asked, squinting his eyes slightly.

You stand straighter as you readjust your jacket.

"They're markings that allow me to go into the sun without being burnt alive," you say, watching as everyone just blink at you. "David has the same ones, though not done by the same priest."

"So, something does happen if you go into the sun!" Tony exclaims as if he was right all along.

"...Yes, but I don't sparkle. It's quite the opposite. It burns and rips at the flesh and smells exactly like what you think it would smell like," you tell him. Tony made a gagging face at the thought.

"Wait, what is that?" Pietro says as he looked at Wanda's image, finding a scrawling in red burned into her sternum.

Everyone draws their attention over before looking back at yours.

You had an identical one in the same place.

The searings on your rib were in black, while the one on your sternum was red in color.

"Oh, shit," David says, breaking the silence. "We activated the second part of your curse."

"Curse? What curse? What did you do to my sister?" Pietro pushes past everyone until he's standing in front of you, gripping the lapels of your jacket.

"Пьетро!" Wanda calls after him, putting her hand on his arm to pull him back, but he doesn't budge.

You swallow.

"As I said," you put your hands around Pietro's, forcing him to let go. "I was involved with Tatyana, your ancestor, and it didn't end well."

"She cursed you because of a quarrel or a breakup?" Pietro snorted as if he didn't believe you.

You quirked your brow at him. "No, she cursed me because I killed her."

"You killed her?" Tony says in incredulity. "You killed your girlfriend."

"I had to," you shift uncomfortably, the guilt rising up as Natasha moves to hold your hand. "She turned. Upset with how villages were hunting witches along with other horrible things, she was trying to create vampires using her magic to destroy the villages. She was murdering innocent people, and nothing I said reached her anymore. When I begged her to stop, she didn't. I did what I had to."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Tony blinked. "You know, I'm surprised you didn't become a villain; your origin story would've been so good."

You roll your eyes.

"What was the curse, and what does that have to do with my sister?" Pietro demanded.

"The curse was that I could never feed from a human being other than her. But because you are descendants from her, you share the same blood, which creates somewhat of a loophole." You sigh, pressing your lips together as you look at Wanda. "The reason I was actually looking for the two of you is that I always keep track of the descendants of Tatyana's. I do that so I know who I cannot ever risk of drinking their blood, even if you donated blood by chance, I wouldn't take your blood bag."

You look at Natasha, "I'm sorry, but I didn't tell you everything that night," you say softly.

Natasha bit her tongue, "You said that you didn't want to find a cure to this curse...but you've actually had already tried to find one, haven't you?

You nodded, biting your bottom lip.

"Yes...Leo and I spent years trying to find the cure at first. At one point, I encountered one of Tatyana's grandchildren. I could smell the same blood of Tatyana's in her. At that time, I was living off of animal blood," you sighed. "I don't know, something came over me, and I jumped at her. I realized that I could drink from her...but that's when I realized the second part of this curse."

You looked at Wanda apologetically. "I inflict this curse back on them."

"What?"��Pietro bellowed.

"What happened to Tatyana's granddaughter?" Steve asked with arms crossed as he processed the information.

"Another vampire tried to feed on her and she died instantly," you frowned. "When Leo and I realized the intricacies of this, I stopped looking for the cure because it was clear there wasn't one without Tatyana being the one to remove it. On top of that, it kept my bloodlust in check. I had to be more conscious about it unless I wanted to die."

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Natasha asked quietly.

"Because I'm not proud of it. Worse than killing Tatyana because I had to was awful. But then I went and tried to remove her curse," you frowned slightly. "I'm not like you, Nat. You deal with your ledger every day proudly and without hesitation."

You look away, ashamed of what you're admitting. "I couldn't. I wanted to get rid of the curse because even though it was what I deserved, it was just a daily reminder of Tatyana, and I didn't want to remember what I had done to her."

Fingers grip your chin, pulling you back, and you face Natasha.

"Hey, you are the bravest person I know," she says softly, and the words linger like she wants to say something else, but there's a crowd here. "We'll talk more later."

Natasha lifts your fingers to her lips and presses a soft kiss to them. The action brings a deep pit feeling in your stomach, and you feel something threatening to spill over, but you swallow it because now isn't the time.

"So, what do we do now?" Pietro asks, bringing everyone back to the matter at hand.

You look solemnly at Pietro. "There's nothing I can do. I have to keep feeding from her regularly. Otherwise, she'll die."

"Why?" Pietro demanded, stress clear on his face.

"This curse is a catch 22 situation. On the one hand, Wanda is the only person I can feed from. But on the other hand, now I'm the only vampire who can feed on her. If any other vampire tries to feed on her, it will react badly with my venom and kill her. If I don't regularly feed on her and inject new venom, her cells will slowly deteriorate and kill her. My venom is both a poison and a cure for her." Your expression was grim, and you looked over to Wanda, but the girl seemed to have no reaction at all to what you were saying, so you were unable to gauge how she was feeling.

"And what?" Pietro pressed. "You'll do this to her forever? Because there's no fucking cure?"

You didn't really have an answer to that because it's not like you've encountered this situation. The last descendant you drank from died due to another vampire getting to her. You were sure as hell not going to let that happen this time, but you had a feeling Wanda could handle her own if someone tried to attack her.

"No," you decided, exhaling softly. "I'm...going to try to find the cure again. If it was just me, that's one thing, but you're right; I can't let Wanda be affected forever too."

Natasha squeezed your hand, and you turned slightly to look at her, finding her giving you a small smile.

"How are you going to find a cure? I thought the only cure to this was if Tatyana reversed what she did, and she's no longer here," Steve asked.

You lick your lips as you lock eyes with David.

"It's been a while, but we're going to find Leo's descendent."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The day comes to a quiet end, and you find yourself looking out the window. The city is still bustling, and it's a reminder that New York is a city that never sleeps, and you kind of miss the atmosphere out in the countryside where Clint lived.

Natasha left with David to help him try to track down Leo's descendent. Though, you know it will be relatively easy.

Steve had pulled you aside after asking you seriously if you wanted him to stay to help you with this matter, but you shook your head.

"You need to find Bucky," you tell him. "He's out there, waiting for you unconsciously, I bet."

Steve seems like he wants to stay still, but you smile as you pat his broad shoulder.

"David found a tip on Bucky for you, so you need to go because it's not looking hot for him," you pass him a folded piece of paper.

"What if you need me?" Steve frowned.

"You'll be the first I'll call, solider," you wink.

"I better be," he smiles back, pulling you into a hug before he left.

A part of you wonders how things will play out like how you saw when you touched Tony's hand. Regardless, if you could get Tony to think the Accords was a horrible idea, then things would change.

But changing Tony's mind or trying to influence him was like trying to move a mountain.

"Hey."

You turn to see Wanda standing at the door, far from you. When you turn, she takes it as a sign to enter the room and approach you.

"Hey," you reply, feeling your body going stiff, the conversation with David fresh in your mind.

Wanda stands next to you before turning her head to look at the view outside.

"The view is very different than what I'm used to," she tells you quietly.

"Better or worse?" You ask in return.

"Both. On the one hand, this is not the view of my homeland, but I suppose this is better than watching my country collapse."

You purse your lips at that, feeling sympathy for the girl before you.

"They will rebuild," you tell her softly, "and when you return, it will be a beautiful view once more."

Wanda gives you a small smile as she turns to face you. No one says anything, and the quiet settles over the two of you as you stare at each other.

"I feel like you were meant to be in my life, and I'm meant to be in yours," Wanda tells you, blinking as if she's unsure if she should be saying so.

"You feel something for me," Wanda states, and you immediately rush to deny it.

"Don't," Wanda warns you, and you press your lips together to hold the words back. "You do, and you can't lie to me about it. I...I feel confused around you. You and Natasha. I don't know what to make of any of it."

"There's so much history tied between us...I worry that your feelings are because of my ancestor--because you mistake me for her."

"I don't," you tell her immediately, not wanting her to feel like she was some replacement. "I admit you two are similar...in more ways than you know...but I know that you're not her."

"How?" Wanda smiles sardonically.

"Easiest explanation? Scent. Vampires are extremely sensitive to scent, and you have your own distinct smell. Long explanation? There's no one that could ever replace Tatyana to me, and I don't want anyone to. You are your own person, just as Natasha is. In my heart, Natasha is something new and cannot also ever be replaced," you say, wanting Wanda to understand, but also to draw a line.

"And me?" Wanda pushes. "Where do you want me to stand in your heart?"

You clench your jaw, just about to answer when Natasha and David enter the room.

"We've found the descendent. He lives in Texas," David tells you.

You take a step back from Wanda, clearing your throat quietly as you nod.

Your girlfriend stares at you, her eyes shifting to Wanda for a microsecond before she looks back at you as if Natasha could tell she just walked into a tense moment.

"Good," you say. "We'll leave tomorrow morning. Everyone should get some rest."

You walk towards Natasha, grabbing her hand as you lead her out the room, only looking back once at Wanda, who stood there with her arms crossed over her chest as she looks at you with an expression you find yourself unable to decipher.

Nor forget.

PART XII

#natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #wandanat x reader #scarlet witch x reader #black widow x reader #natasha x wanda x you #natasha romanoff x you #avengers reader insert #avengers x reader #marvel reader insert #avengers imagine #mm: my fics #series: Between the Lines

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