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eliemo · 3 years

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Silence Speaks

Summary: Virgil can't get out of bed. Days like this are nothing new, he just doesn't know how his new family will react to him being so pathetic.

TWs: Depression, depressive episode, brief death mention, self-hatred, temporary nonverbal episode

Notes: Found this fic in my drafts from a few months ago, so I cleaned it up to post since LB and Permafrost are taking a bit. Enjoy <3

Virgil knew it was going to be one of those days when the third hour passed with no change.

Everything was too much. His chest hurt, every breath was just too much work, all he wanted was to sink into the blankets and sleep the rest of his life away. He’d been staring blankly at the wall since he’d woken up, curled up on his side with tears pooling in his eyes. He couldn't get up, couldn’t get back to sleep, couldn’t even call out to ask for help.

It had been a while since he’d had a day like this, when just the thought of getting out of bed made him sick,

They’d used to be more frequent, back when Virgil was alone and shut out, hated and scorned by the people he just wanted to protect. The resentment took its toll, and sometimes he couldn’t find a reason to get out of bed.

It wasn’t supposed to happen anymore. He was supposed to be over this. He was supposed to be better.

He had everything he’d ever wanted. He had his family, Thomas listened to him, and he wasn’t just needed- he was wanted.

He was wanted. He knew he was. Sometimes it was just...hard to convince himself of that, despite the overwhelming amount of kindness he’d been given for months now, the reassurances and patient understanding that felt too good to be true.

But now here he was again, unmoving in the dark of his own room, closed off like the brooding villain he was trying so hard not to be anymore.

God, he didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be anywhere. He didn’t want to be awake, he didn’t want to go back to sleep, and he didn’t want to get up and go downstairs.

He just...didn’t want to do this anymore.

Why couldn’t he just disappear?

Virgil thought he could hear voices downstairs, but nothing was really registering through the fog settling around his head. His room was pitch dark, the curtains pulled tightly shut, leaving it impossible to tell how much time had passed.

He thought it might have been a few hours by now, and he hoped everyone would just continue on with their day and leave him here forever, trapped in his own body with a brain stuck trying to sabotage his happiness. He’d fade away on his own, and they’d forget about him, never bothering to even question his absence.

Virgil knew better than to really believe that. A year ago he could have gotten away with it, he could lock himself up in the dark for days and nobody would care. They’d probably celebrate.

Now...now they would notice he wasn’t coming down for breakfast. He had a job to do, he had people who actually cared. Virgil couldn’t just lay here, pathetic and useless. He was letting himself waste away and fail everyone who had taken a chance on him. They’d given him so much. He couldn’t undo all that progress because he was feeling a little sad.

But he couldn’t get up. He couldn’t. It would be so much easier if he could just die.

Virgil still wasn’t sure how much time had passed, laying there wide awake without the energy to move a single inch, but suddenly a knock on the door sliced through the haze around his brain.

More tears gathered in his eyes, frustration and dread making his chest unbearably heavy. He didn’t want to be ridiculed and yelled at right now. He wasn’t ready to be forced out of bed, selfish as it was to want to stay here.

A few seconds passed before the door creaked open, light spilling in from the hall, the faint smell of coffee wafting into the room.

“Virgil?”

That was Logan, even though Virgil couldn’t bring himself to turn his head to look. The logical side’s voice was comforting and familiar, but he wasn’t sure he could handle his blunt judgment right now.

He’d think Virgil was ridiculous, his refusal to leave his room illogical and stupidly selfish. He’d made everyone worry for nothing. Anxiety was just being lazy again.

“Virgil, it’s almost eleven,” Logan said, and Virgil kind of wished he could just die right here and now. Death would get him out of being lectured. “You need to wake up and eat something. You missed breakfast.”

Virgil still couldn’t move, but his breath caught in his throat at the reminder. He knew he was being stupid, and he knew he was behind schedule, but the thought of food just made him feel nauseous.

He heard footsteps, carefully tracking Logan’s movements as he came closer and listened as he carefully set down what was probably a mug of coffee on the dresser.

“Virgil?” he called, and it was getting harder and harder to see as more tears built up. “Are you awake?”

Virgil still couldn’t bring himself to answer, even as Logan moved around to the side of the bed. Virgil didn’t glance up to his face, but there was no way Logan couldn’t tell that the anxious side’s eyes were open and aware.

He tensed, waiting for anger and judgment, or even just an annoyed huff. He waited to be told that it was easy to get out of bed and Virgil was just being difficult, that he needed to stop being so pathetic or they had no reason to keep showing him so much kindness.

He needed to be useful, or they wouldn’t want him around anymore.

But Logan was suddenly kneeling down to his level, eyes kind and worried behind his glasses.

“Are you alright?” he asked, frowning when Virgil just clenched his jaw in response. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Virgil couldn’t force words to form no matter how badly he wanted to, and to his dismay a few tears slipped free, trailing down his jaw and seeping into the pillow.

Logan’s expression softened, but the concern in his eyes only grew. He reached forward, slow and careful, and somehow Virgil managed to move just enough to latch desperately onto his hand.

He didn’t have the energy to choke out any apologies, although he was almost certain Logan was about to demand one.

“That is alright,” the logical side said instead. “You do not have to talk. Do you think you can manage a nod or headshake?”

Virgil forced himself to respond with the tiniest of movements, even though just reaching up to take Logan’s hand had felt like running a marathon.

“Alright,” he said gently. “Are you feeling ill?”

Virgil wished he was just sick. That would be so much easier to explain. Being sick was fixable, and it wouldn’t look like he was just making excuses to be lazy.

But he didn’t see the point in lying, and he certainly didn’t have the energy to deal with even more anger if he was found out. He managed a small shake of his head, even as Logan reached up with his free hand to carefully feel his forehead. He had to force himself not to lean into the touch.

“Are you in pain?”

Yes. Everything hurt so bad and he wanted it to stop. His chest felt like someone was sitting on it, his head felt like something was pounding at the back of his skull, and every bone in his body felt heavy and useless.

But he couldn’t say that, because he knew it was all in his head. It wasn’t real.

He shook his head again, choking on a small sob, and something like realization dawned in the other side’s eyes.

“I see,” Logan said. “Is this...just a bad day, then?”

Logan had finally figured it out, because of course he had. Virgil being stupid and useless probably wasn’t a difficult conclusion to come to, anyway.

He nodded, tense and staring at nothing as he waited for Logan to rip his hand away and demand Virgil grow up and stop wasting everyone’s time. Or maybe he’d just roll his eyes and leave, closing the door and locking Anxiety back in the dark where he belonged.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Logan said, and to Virgil’s surprise his hold only tightened. “Are you able to get out of bed?”

More tears welled up at the question, dread rising in his chest. Because he couldn’t imagine even standing up right now, but of course he couldn’t expect to be able to get away with that. Logan was being polite about it, but they had a schedule to stick to.

“It’s alright if the answer is no,” Logan continued. “I have no intention of forcing you. I only thought it might be easier to take care of you today if you’re set up on the couch.”

Wait...what? Take care of him?

Logan seemed to sense his confusion, and the hand that wasn’t currently being held hostage moved to run gently through his hair, smiling sadly at Virgil’s barely audible whimper.

“If you’re more comfortable here you can stay. But I know being left alone with your thoughts is not always...ideal. We can keep you company in the living room if you like. If you’re overstimulated, the lights will be kept dim, and the noise to a minimum.”

Virgil hesitated, trying to figure out if Logan was joking- or if this was some kind of cruel trick to teach him a lesson. They didn’t need to do anything. He didn’t deserve it. And he wasn’t sick, he was just being a baby.

Logan was suddenly cupping Virgil’s cheek, wiping tears away with his thumb. “There is nothing to be ashamed of, Virgil. Would you like help sitting up?”

And Virgil felt ridiculous, because he had no real reason to feel so weighed down, but he gave another timid nod.

Logan didn’t even hesitate before moving to help, a steadying hand against Virgil’s back as he guided him up to lean against the headboard. He didn’t complain, didn’t lecture Virgil about how inconsiderate he was being, just silently assisted and pulled away when he was done.

Again Virgil wanted to apologize, but the words got stuck in his throat, buried deep beneath the fatigue.

“There is no need for an apology,” Logan said, and Virgil wondered when he’d become so predictable. “If you aren’t able to walk, I’m sure Roman would be more than happy to carry you to the couch. I only need your permission to inform him and Patton of what is happening.”

Virgil wasn’t sick or injured, he was competent enough to get himself out of bed and down the stairs. People were busy, and he was already being awful by forcing Logan to stay.

But just the thought of getting out of bed and walking out of his room was enough to make him want to bury himself under the covers and dissolve into sobs. He curled in on himself and eyed Logan warily, hoping that was enough of an answer.

“Alright,” Logan said, squeezing Virgil’s hand. “I’ll go get him, just wait here a moment.”

Logan squeezed Virgil’s hand, and he’d known the logical side long enough to know the smile he sent was nothing but genuine.

Virgil felt cold when Logan pulled his hand away and moved off the bed, but being unable to talk meant he couldn’t call him back as he disappeared through the door.

He let out a shaky breath and pulled his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. He squeezed teary eyes shut as he rested his chin on his knees.

It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before Virgil heard footsteps in the hallway, his bedroom door creaking open as the creative side cautiously stepped inside the doorway with a small frown.

Virgil tensed, because if anyone was going to make fun of him for this it would be Roman- well meaning but so brash and over the top at times- and he could already picture Roman’s mocking laughter, his exasperation as he tried to just drag Virgil out of bed, his—

“Hey there,” Roman called, softer than Virgil could ever remember him sounding. “Feeling under the weather today, Stormcloud?”

Virgil shrugged, hunching his shoulders and staring at his own hands. From the look in the Prince’s eyes, it was clear he understood.

“That’s ok,” he said, ducking his head to meet Virgil’s eyes as he smiled and made his way to the bed. “Bad days happen, Doom and Gloom. You just have to ask for help.”

Virgil let out a pitiful whine, the closest he could get to telling Roman that he couldn’t. Even if he could, he didn’t know how. He’d never been able to ask for help before. The Prince’s smile turned sad, and he slowly lowered himself on the bed beside Virgil.

“I know,” Roman said, and Virgil watched as he opened his arms in a quiet invitation, looking so ridiculously hopeful. “But we’re here now.”

Virgil broke. What little walls he’d still been holding up crumbling at the Prince’s simple words, and he choked on a sob, vision blurring with the tears he finally allowed to fall. He collapsed forward into Roman’s chest, shuddering when strong arms wrapped around and pulled him close.

Roman didn’t speak, and he didn't force Virgil to even try, just held him tight and rocked them both on the edge of the bed, the Prince’s chin hooked over Virgil’s head, almost cocooning him in safety.

Roman held him, strong but gentle all the same, letting Virgil cry into the Prince’s shirt as long as he needed, hushing him through violent sobs. He didn’t rush him, didn’t tease or berate him, just kept him close and safe.

“I’m here,” he said when Virgil had quieted down a bit. “Is it ok if I take you downstairs now? Logan and Pat are worried about you.”

Virgil nodded with his face still buried in Roman’s chest, breath catching in his throat when the Prince carefully maneuvered them both towards the end of the bed. He kept one arm wrapped firmly around Virgil’s back, the other hooking under his knees.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered when Virgil clutched desperately at the back of his shirt, squeezing his eyes shut as Roman stood from the bed, Virgil secure in his hold. “We’ve all got you, Virge.”

Virgil kept his eyes closed, breaths coming out as nothing more than pitiful, hiccuping sobs. He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to talk to anyone, look at anyone, or be seen by anyone. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to exist today.

But Roman’s embrace made him forget that for just a moment. The memory of Logan’s comfort and the promise of Patton’s care made it just a little more bearable.

It was all a blur, Virgil barely able to focus on the world around him, overwhelmed and so so exhausted. The curtains in the living room were drawn, keeping the room comfortably dim, and Patton and Logan moved quietly, keeping everything blissfully peaceful.

Roman set him down on the couch, letting Virgil curl up on his side and pull the nearest blanket over him, taking a moment to run his fingers through the anxious side’s hair.

Patton kneeled beside him, searching his watery eyes for silent permission before leaning in to kiss Virgil’s forehead with a soft smile.

“Hey kiddo,” he said, just as loving as Logan and Roman had been. “You want your old dad to make you some hot chocolate?”

Virgil blinked, not sure how to respond to that. It sounded nice, but...but he was already convincing them enough. They were all busy, and probably annoyed and—

“It’s not an issue, honey,” Patton assured, like he could sense Virgil’s internal panic. “We didn’t have much planned for today. You can relax.”

He had his suspicions that Logan had actually just changed their schedule in favor of keeping an eye on Virgil while he rested, but he wasn’t exactly in the place to ask questions, as panicked as the thought made him. He’d make it up to them tomorrow.

Virgil couldn’t quite look Patton in the eyes, but the parental side seemed so eager to help, and...hot chocolate didn’t sound terrible. He gave a hesitant nod, chest loosening a bit at the way Patton positively beamed.

Patton hurried into the kitchen, only to come back less than five minutes later with the biggest mug Virgil had ever seen, overflowing with marshmallows and whipped cream. Roman perched on the arm of the couch, close enough to keep running his fingers through Virgil’s hair.

“Just rest, Virgil,” Logan said, smiling when Virgil took his hot chocolate with unsteady hands. “We can put on a movie if you like. Or we can leave you alone if you’re overwhelmed.”

Virgil bit his lip, a few stray tears still running down his cheeks and dripping onto the couch. It was a bad day, not his first and definitely not his last but it wasn’t the worst he’d ever had. It was already getting a little better.

He took a steady breath, raising his head to meet Logan’s eyes, mustering what little energy he had to force his voice to work again, the words small, breathy and ragged, but clear all the same.

“Stay? Please?”

Logan smiled, Roman scooted closer, and Patton gave Virgil’s forehead another kiss. They gathered around him on the couch, similar to how they usually ended up after a bad panic attack.

Roman and Logan ended up on either side of him, while Patton let Virgil put down his mug for a second to wrap his arms around the moral side’s waist, relishing in the warmth of one of Patton’s hugs.

There had been more days like this than Virgil could count, everything weighing down on him until he just wanted to disappear. He’d never...had this before. He’d always been alone, locking himself away until he could face his own existence again.

This time his family was on all sides, Patton holding him tightly, Logan taking his hand, Roman still playing with his hair, reminding him that it would be ok soon. He had a reason to fight through it.

Virgil couldn’t bring himself to thank them, not out loud again, but he knew they understood.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #depression tw #nonverbal tw #crying tw #fanficiton #writing

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write-ur-wrongs · 4 years

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Thank you sweet anon for your request!! Again, I didn’t fully proof-read this bad boy so please forgive the errors! I hope you enjoy some angry Jealous!Geralt!

A/N Request: Geralt meeting your ex who thinks that you're still together/or tries to get you back in front of geralt?

The great hall was alive with royals and nobility alike. Laughter and chatter mingled easily with the sound of the band’s lively jig and the soft tinkering of fine cutlery.

The hosts had expected you and Geralt to make an appearance at dusk, but neither of you were particularly fond of all the fuss royalty liked to put up, so it wasn’t until long past sunset that you joined the party. Jaskier on the other hand, was overjoyed at the prospect of attending such an illustrious affair. He’d put up a fuss around noon and insisted he be allowed to take Roach so that he could arrive in time to make a strong impression with all in attendance. Of course, Geralt had refused, so he had gone off on foot, strutting and sighing dramatically.

Now, as you and Geralt did your best to navigate the already flushed crowd, you found yourself wishing you’d arrived sooner. It was easier to avoid people when they were being stifled by a sobering social awkwardness; after hours of ales and fine wine, however, people seemed to get a little too comfortable for your liking.

“I hate these ridiculous evenings,” Geralt grumbled, holding his arms close to his body uncomfortably.

“Maybe if we saved less lives,” you said, biting back a smile, “they’d be less inclined to insist we attend.”

Geralt only responded with a grunt and a roll of his eyes, which made you laugh lightly as you looped your arm through his and led him deeper into the crowd.

“C’mon love,” you said, a slight tease to your tone, “let’s find the free food and drink we were promised, yeah?”

You laughed again as he fought back a smile. “Atta boy Geralt, don’t smile too much or you’ll ruin your reputation as the big bad wolf.”

“Will you shut up,” he muttered, handing you a goblet of wine.

“I don’t think I will,” you said downing the wine in one go, “and could you hand me an ale?”

“I don’t think I will,” he teased, kissing your temple lightly before handing you his mug to share. You take a slow sip, your eyes twinkling as you held Geralt’s gaze, already feeling the liquor warming you from the inside. You hand him back his drink and kiss him lightly in thanks.

“Do you want to –”

You were both pulled away from your conversation by a loud clang from across the room. Geralt furrowed his brows and turned towards the sound quickly, untangling his arm from yours before reaching for his sword. He immediately relaxed as the familiar shouts and accusations resounded through the hall.

You collectively sighed your frustration as you saw Jaskier get chased into a corner by an angry nobleman; no doubt his latest conquest’s husband, who was not quite as pleased to hear the bard’s dulcet tones.

“It’s your turn,” Geralt said, downing his ale before reaching for a second helping.

“I don’t think so! I’m the one who saved him from that fisherman at the last village! It’s your turn,” you said, poking him in the chest before stealing his mug and holding it away from him.

“Actually,” he said, his low gravelly voice reverberating through you as he leaned across your body to grab his drink from your hand, “it was my turn at the last village, but you just couldn’t help yourself and jumped in to save the day. Rules are rules my dove; it’s your turn.”

You scoffed incredulously at his nerve, but shook your head in resignation; he was right after all, the rules you outlined were clear and the cycling of turns was strict.

“Well fuck. I’m taking this ale though,” you said, clapping him on the shoulder before stalking off towards the commotion.

Geralt chuckled lowly and leaned against a marble pillar, marveling at the way you made your way through the crowd. A wandering waiter came by and offered him another ale which he accepts with a polite smile, not taking his eyes off you.

He loved watching you de-escalate social situations. Sometimes it was comforting to know that he wasn’t the only one who just melted when you spoke to them directly – you were effortlessly charming and completely disarming. You once managed to convince a band of attacking thieves to stand down so efficiently that by the end of the night, they ended up joining you for dinner around the fire. Yes, Geralt was the professional when it came to handling monsters, but you were the people person of the group.

Watching you now was no exception. Your body language, the way your warm smiled reached your eyes with ease, how smoothly you managed put yourself between Jaskier and the furious man; it was impressive to say the least.

Unfortunately, his attention was pulled away from you suddenly.

“I can’t believe Y/N is here tonight, I thought I’d never see her again!”

At the sound of your name, Geralt whipped his head in the direction of the speaker, cat-like eyes scanning the crowd swiftly.

“Yeah, the very same Y/N I’ve told you about. An amazing lay, I swear it!”

The man in question was holding court half a dozen other knights; they kept snickering and looking off at you in turns. They were teasing him, egging him on for details.

“She’s not as sweet as she looks,” the man stated confidently, “don’t let that smile fool you gentlemen. The last time I took her was in an alley! The little whore was mad for it – couldn’t wait for it, needed it right there and then.”

Geralt was fuming.

He pushed his way through the crowd with great force and little care. He was worried about your honour. Your reputation in the courts – that was all. That was enough to explain the way rage seethed through him and the strange urge to be sick that was hitting him in waves. He was concerned for you as a partner and a friend.

He wasn’t jealous.

“Gods her skin… smelled so good, felt even better… I’m getting her back tonight gents,” he boasted, puffing out his chest.

“You don’t have a chance,” said the knight closest to the bastard bragging about shagging you, “it’s been ages since you’ve last seen each other, and if she’s as good as you say, she definitely found someone new.”

Damn right, Geralt thought furiously, swallowing the bile bubbling at the back of his throat.

“No, no, believe me the way she mewled and screamed for me? She’ll do more than remember,” he said, disgusting confidence dripping off every word, “she’ll beg to have me back.”

You’ll beg for mercy when I crush your fucking skull you pathetic –

His murderous march was abruptly interrupted by Jaskier. The bard cut in front of him and planted himself squarely before him, chattering on incomprehensibly.

Geralt’s eyes were bugging out in panic as he watched the bastard strut confidently towards you. He tried to push past Jaskier but the bard was quick to match him in posture.

“Look I know you’re upset with me for ruining your evening but she came after me,” he insisted, “I mean I can’t blame her the song his perhaps my most romantic sonnet. Speaking of my writing – Geralt can you look at me when I am sharing my musings with you, please? Thank you – as I was saying, Y/N inspired me tonight to write this song –”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growled, “move!”

“Wha – why?” Jaskier pivoted on the spot – keeping Geralt’s path blocked – as he sought the source of his friends’ fury. When he saw that you were speaking politely to some knight he scoffed loudly before turning back.

“Oh-ho, no,” he laughed, “you’re jealous of that oaf? Geralt, seriously?”

“I am not jealous,” he spat, only able to look at Jaskier for a moment before his glare shot back up towards you.

“She’s just being polite! Seriously you always assume the worst in people, Geralt, it’s sad.”

“I see people as they are,” he muttered, watching closely as the knight took a half-step towards you, he let out a menacing growl when you didn’t step backwards. “For what they are.”

“Okay then why can’t you see that’s just some poor sap who, I don’t know, maybe wants to thank Y/N for her help in saving this kingdom.”

“Shut up, will you? I’m trying to hear what they’re saying.”

“You don’t need a Witchers’ hearing to know what’s happening over there,” he brambled on putting on voices as he acted out the conversation, “’Hi I’m Y/N’, ‘Hi I’m an unimportant but very grateful knight, pleased to meet you blah blah blah…”

“Fuck, Jaskier, shut UP –” he stopped himself when he heard your laugh, the deep full laugh you normally reserved for him.

Jaskier heard your laugh too, and turned his head to double check he’d heard right. When he saw the familiar twinkle in your eye, he looked Geralt with wide eyes.

“They know each other?” he asked.

“They,” he started, struggling to get the words out, “t-they knew each other.”

“Wait you don’t mean,” Jaskier started, connecting the dots, “that they knew each other intimately?” He wagged his fingers suggestively as he said the last word.

When Geralt’s only reply was a low, seething hum, Jaskier whistled lowly before shaking his head.

“Well that explains,” he waved his hands vaguely at Geralt, “this reaction.”

Geralt was about to shove the bard aside when he saw you waving him over. You were smiling widely as you waved, but it didn’t reach your eyes. He cleared his throat and pushed Jaskier lightly before charging towards you with the bard in tow.

“Ah, finally!” you exclaimed, swiftly wrapping your arms around his bicep, pulling him close, “Geralt, I want you to meet an old friend of mine, Hoeck. Hoeck this is Geralt, my partner,” as you spoke, you moved to loop his arm around your waist, “and this is Jaskier, he’s responsible for the wonderful music tonight.”

“The White Wolf,” said Hoek, sizing Geralt up, “wow - what an honour.”

He hummed in acknowledgement and took the knight’s hand in a tight grip, feeling immense satisfaction watching the man wince.

“And -erm, thank you sir Jaskier, for the wonderful music,” he said, trying and failing to subtly rub at his hand.

“Thank you, good sir. I speaking of, I should get back out there.” He shot you and Geralt a look and swung his lute around his back before strumming a few notes. “If you’ll excuse me.”

You all nodded to him as he strode off, beckoning the band to join him.

An awkward silence settled over the three of you. Geralt was clearly seething as he held your waist in a tighter grasp than necessary. After a beat, you shot Hoek a tight-lipped smile and made up some excuse about needing to say hello to the king and queen before the night came to a close.

“Ah certainly,” he said, disappointment obvious, “well if you ever find yourself in need of company –”

“I won’t,” you said quickly.

“She won’t,” Geralt growled, his deep voice overlapping with yours.

At that, the knight swallowed thickly and walked back towards his group with tail between his legs and his hand held close to his chest.

Once alone, you turned in Geralt’s arms and looked up at his sour face accusingly.

“Why did it take you so long to come rescue me!” you said, tugging playfully at his hair.

“Didn’t look like you wanted to be saved,” he said lowly, eyes still alight with jealousy, “and Jaskier got in my way.”

“That’s a shit excuse and a weak lie. He was all over me! It took all I had not to rip the bastard’s arms off!” you said, a nervous laugh bubbling out of you. “Gods he has some nerve.”

“Hm,” he hissed, “you’re right about that.”

“Geralt,” you looked up at him carefully and gently caressed the crease between his brows, “this is more than jealousy. What’s going on?”

Geralt hesitated before relaxing his face into your hand and took a small sigh. “It’s nothing. And I’m not jealous.”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, “Can you look at me? Please?”

Reluctantly, he brought his eyes down to meet yours.

“Thank you,” you said, cupping his face before moving your hands to rest on his chest, “can you talk to me?”

“Don’t be patronizing,” he warned.

“Don’t be obstinate,” you countered.

Geralt rolled his eyes at you before pulling you closer to him. “Maybe I was a little jealous, and maybe,” he sighed deeply, “I was a little worried.”

“Geralt,” you started, your heart breaking at the sight of him, “you have nothing to worry about when it comes to us. I need you to know that.”

“I do,” he said quietly, “but the way he was talking about you – knowing he had been with you in that way...” Geralt stopped himself as he felt his anger come roaring back at the memory. “I wanted to kill him.”

“To be honest, I wouldn’t have been upset with you if you had,” you said, jokingly, trying to lighten the mood a little. Your time with Hoek was beyond brief; he was nice enough at first but quickly he became aggressive and possessive. You couldn’t help but cringe when you looked back on your time together and you hated that your beloved witcher was letting this get to him.

“Oh, Geralt,” you murmured when you realized he wasn’t letting up, “I’m yours. Completely and unwaveringly yours.” You kissed his forehead, then his nose, and finally his lips.

He kissed you back slowly at first, but his kiss deepened as you leaned into him. Geralt pulled away just a little and rested his forehead against yours.

“Y/N… I’m – I love you so much…” he whispered, “it’s just… the things he said about you –” he started, hating himself for needing to hear your side of the story.

“Either untrue or exaggerated, that I can promise.”

“Something about an alley…?” Geralt asked, holding his breath.

“Oh ew! That was a terrible night,” you shuddered, “he was so insistent! Wouldn’t take no for an answer – Wait, what was he saying about it? Gods, maybe I’ll kill him.” Anger and humiliation burned at the back of your throat.

Seeing your visceral reaction, Geralt was immediately overcome by feelings of guilt, for making you relive the memory, relief, that your reaction was so negative, and rage, knowing that not only did this pompous ass make forceful advances on you but he always lied about it to a crowd.

Feeling the intensity of your anger radiating off you, Geralt was about to suggest that the two of you left before you did anything you’d regret when Jaskier came running through the crowd shouting that it was time to leave.

You took off running behind the bard, holding Geralt’s hand tightly as you raced down the castle’s corridors.

“Why are we running?” you shouted, a little breathless.

“I might have added a little something to our charming friend’s drink, and he might be having a very intense negative reaction to it!” he said over his shoulder.

“Oh fuck,” you breathed through fits of laughter, “Jaskier!”

“He’ll be fine! Eventually!” he added, he turned and ran backwards so he could shoot you a wink before adding, “No one messes with our girl, right Geralt?”

Geralt rolled his eyes at his friend before he ran up behind you and scooped you up bridal-style – all without breaking his stride.

“Damn right,” he said, smiling widely at Jaskier before planting a quick kiss to your temple.

#geralt of rivia #geralt fanfic #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #the witcher #the witcher netflix #jealous!geralt #request #fanfic #fanfiction #witcher fic #witcher geralt #witcher x reader #jaskier

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keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

the sex party: ii

(r18+)

shinsou hitoshi x reader

ao3

part 1 || part 2 (you’re here!)

word count: ~9k

You and Hitoshi definitely have a thing for each other, but who would've thought that a 'sex party' would produce a confession?

warnings:

COLLEGE AU! characters are explicitly aged up to college students as early 20 year olds!

not really a sex party, mutual pining, friends to lovers, confessions, reader is canonically bi, brief momo x reader, light dom/sub, spanking, references to drug use, smoking (cigarettes, salem trademarked fic thing), drinking, and smut

---------

once again, thank you to @keiqos for editing, absolute gem :’^). now read and take this nice fluff and smut!!!

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Hitoshi hailed the gang outside just before calling an Uber, vaguely explaining what happened and that you were both headed back towards campus. Denki and Jiro assured the two of you that they’d find the fucker and get him thrown out and spit on.

“What a fucker, I’m sorry that happened, (Y/N),” Jiro frowned, eyebrows creased with anger. She cracked her knuckles.

You felt your chest tighten as you smiled back reflexively, “It’s alright. I’m just glad it's over.”

Mina grabbed your shoulders, “I’m going to ruin him for ya’, (Y/N). Ruin.”

She was deadpanned about it, waving a quick goodbye before running into the party to presumably go and kick the guy’s ass. The rest of the party peers followed, leaving with a similar sentiment and a lot of anger.

Denki remained, rubbing the back of his neck, “Are y’all headed back to the house then?”

You nodded, eyeing Shinsou, “Yeah, back to your guys’ place.”

Denki’s eyebrows raised, a wicked grin coming to his face.

Hitoshi gave a half-hearted glare.

Denki continued looking smitten as all hell. He gave Hitoshi a quick hug and crushed one into you. He flitted back in the house with a lightness in his steps that showed distinctly that he was far more drunk than he was letting on.

...

Part of you had a feeling that the night was far from over.

The Uber arrived a few minutes later, smelling of cheap air freshener and stale cologne. You climbed into the back seat as far as you could go. You expected Hitoshi to take the passenger’s side, but he slid beside you, buckling himself into the middle seat.

You didn’t say anything, but you mentally thanked him.

Considering the number of weird friend boundaries (when were you going to be honest with yourself, god, just say it) that had been breached already, you let yourself fall just the slightest bit into Hitoshi’s side as the car began to move.

Hitoshi continued tapping around on his phone one-handed, all to wrap an arm around the back of your seat, half around your shoulder. You relished his heat and let the details fade away as you stared out of the car window.

At some point, Hitoshi put his phone away, stuffing into the pocket of his jeans.

“Your jacket—” You spoke up, but Hitoshi quickly and quietly shushed you, squeezing your shoulder.

“I already had Momo grab it, no big deal,” You hadn’t realized how close he was until the heat of his breath rolled over your ear. “It’s much more important to make sure you’re feeling alright.”

Why is he so nice?

You remained silent, hyper-aware of the softness of your bare thigh pressing against Hitoshi’s own. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the warmth of his breath so close to your face in such a small space.

And you wanted more.

The neon lights of the city reappeared, growing brighter as the two of you neared Hitoshi’s home. Your mind swirled and spun with revelation after revelation.

How the fuck had you not realized how much you liked Hitoshi sooner?

I mean, it was obvious, but repression really does things to a person.

The Uber finally pulled up to Hitoshi’s home. The two of you swiftly went inside, an odd silence between the two of you.

As you stepped out of your heels, Hitoshi broke it from the living room.

“What if I told you I ordered food from that one late-night diner and it’ll be here in ten minutes?” Hitoshi glanced up from his phone with a dashing smile, the kind only you got to see.

It made you want to fucking explode.

You cracked your own, standing fully and stretching your toes, “I’d say ‘thank god, and god is Hitoshi Shinso.”

“You flatter me,” He chuckled, waltzing into the living room. You followed, aware of the eerie quiet that the house carried. It was rare that Hitoshi’s home was fully uninhabited and fully soundless.

It made your thoughts seem even louder.

“Want anything? Water? I can make us some drinks if you’re still in that mood,” Hitoshi offered, already moving towards the kitchen.

It felt like you were going to burst.

“Water is okay, I’m not really feeling like drinking anymore.” You laughed softly, rubbing the back of your neck. You were desperately trying to relieve your own internal tension, but you just fucking couldn’t.

Hitoshi returned a moment later with a glass for you and a kind gaze, regarding you were the most sacred thing in the world. The glass trembled in your grip as you refused to maintain eye contact with him.

You really couldn’t handle any more of this.

“You tired? I can set up the couch for you if you wanna lie down, unless you want me to walk you back to your dorm?” Hitoshi asked, moving towards the linen closet to grab your usual sheets and blankets. Hitoshi obviously sensed your discomfort and the bastard was too nice for his own fucking good, trying to cater to your every fucking need.

He’s way too nice.

...

You made your decision in that moment.

You swallowed, tongue feeling thick in your mouth. Fear wormed its way into your gut, but you spoke through it.

“Actually, can we talk?” You hated the way how your voice trembled.

Your knees felt weak when you saw Hitoshi’s expression fall, pretty violet orbs drooping.

Both of you were well aware of what the conversation would be about.

Hitoshi stopped across the room, turning to you. His brow was furrowed with anxiety. His voice came out sticky, pushing, “I think you’ve had a long night.”

Fuck it.

Tell him.

How much longer can you keep this up anyway?

“It’s going to feel a lot longer if I’m sleeping on the couch when I want to be in your bed.”

The silence that stunned the room echoed louder than anything you had ever heard before. You stared down at your feet, ignoring the way overemotional tears began to gather in your eyes. Your vision clouded, but your mouth kept spewing.

It had to.

“Hitoshi, I like you. A lot more than friends like each other.”

More silence.

You hold back sniffles.

You’re fucking up your whole friendship.

“And I know, our flirting has always been teasing, but I think it became real for me at some point.”

More silence.

“I don’t want to fuck up our friendship. You’re my best friend, Hitoshi, and I really, really care about you. And, I don’t want to throw away our friendship over a crush, okay? I just needed to get this off my chest. We can just forget I ever said anything if that’s easier.”

Your own arms come to wrap around yourself, thumbs making idle circles in an attempt to unconsciously soothe yourself.

You could hear Hitoshi take a few steps towards you, inhaling like he was going to speak, but quickly cutting himself off.

Ouch.

A few stray tears ran tracks down your face.

Your lip wobbled as you spoke, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, and that I teased you so much while feeling like this, I just didn’t notice—”

“(Y/N).” Hitoshi stood in front of you, low voice shocking you from your thought.

You refused to look up at him.

“H-hey, how about I just go back to my dorm? I’m sorry—” You sputtered, rubbing at your eyes as the carpet grew blurry beneath you.

You felt so fucking pathetic. Maybe it was because it took you this long to figure out your own feelings and say something about them. Maybe, it was because you were fairly certain you were capital l in Love with Hitoshi, yet you didn’t even have the guts to look at you as you confessed.

Maybe, it was all because you were so damn terrified that it was all of these possibilities making you drown in your own insecurities.

Hitoshi, diligent and mindful as ever, took note, even if you didn’t notice.

“(Y/N), look at me.” Hitoshi’s damn near commanded, but you somehow ignored him, spiraling deeper.

You couldn’t keep yourself from shaking as your voice cracked, “I’m so fucking sorry, Hitoshi. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll be better, we can—”

And then there were hands, large and soft cupping your jaw, gently forcing your gaze up.

You shook even harder, unable to avoid him any longer.

Your breath felt leached from your lungs when you finally met Hitoshi’s endlessly sweet gaze.

Hitoshi’s eyes were so fucking soft. There was this melancholic smile on his face that made alarms go off in your skull.

He’s going to reject you.

You got the wrong idea.

You sucked down another sob as you tried to lower your head, but Hitoshi’s grip only became firmer. His thumb rubbed away some of your tears as he released a soft sigh.

A moment of quiet passed between the two of you. The teasing, fleeting glances and lustful eye fucking of the earlier night were long gone. All that remained was a tense string of vulnerability that both of you were terrified of.

You were shaking so hard in his grip.

You didn’t notice, but he was shaking too, desperately trying to keep his breathing even.

You blinked up at him, just waiting for him to reject you.

(Like Hitoshi would ever do that—)

“Can I kiss you?” Oh, his voice rolled so low and deep over you, you could’ve died.

Your eyes widened, and all you could do was nod, brain sluggishly following the situation.

He shook his head, lowering his head just a bit closer to your eye level. So ardently did he refuse to look away from you.

“I need you to say it, (Y/N).” He kept himself composed but god, he was struggling.

You gulped, leaning into Hitoshi’s hands for comfort.

“Yes, please,” Your voice came out soft, breaking and needy and Hitoshi wanted every bit of it.

His face hovered in front of yours for a moment, eyes tracing your features with such reverence.

And then his lips were on yours and all of your mutually stored tension broke.

It shattered.

His lips were soft, so different from what you secretly fantasized about. You expected some sort of roughness to him, but now that you were so sinfully close, he radiated calm and sweetness that you could almost taste.

Hitoshi was so gentle with you, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you even closer.

You moved your lips against his, relishing the fact that he was there and you were there. Maybe it was fleeting, maybe he would pull away and say he just wanted to fuck and you’d have to have that conversation. But, in that moment, you just sank into Hitoshi’s touch, throwing your arms over his shoulders and tangling deft fingers into his unruly hair.

You could handle whatever future you were given. Just a morsel of Hitoshi’s soft but unbridled affections felt like more than enough.

(Little did you know how much of him you were to receive.)

Hitoshi pulled away, but hardly. He stayed so close to you, pupils blown wide as his breath fanned of your cheekbones. You so, so wanted to surge forward and drown in him, but you held yourself fast.

He surprised you by letting out his own shaking breath, all the way in his chest. Your eyes widened.

“You’re such an idiot—” Hitoshi laughed and you faltered for a moment. It must’ve shown on your face because his hands started rubbing at your sides.

He kissed you softly again. Something chaste and sweet, like a type of summer fruit that stains your lips.

He pulled away again, lips parted and scanning you.

“You have to say it.” You told him, trying to keep your voice firm, but failing.

“Say what?” He teased, peppering the side of your face with kisses.

You made a small, half-annoyed noise, pushing lightly at his choice, “You know what, Hitoshi.”

He paused, dragging you tighter to him. A hand came up to cup your neck, fingers tracing idle patterns on your pulse point.

The look he wore (so well) was one of pure tenderness that made you ache in the best possible way.

“Of course I like you.” Hitoshi kissed you again.

You were too stunned for words.

Hitoshi kept going, his own tension apparently having broken as well.

(Duh.)

“You have no fucking idea how much I adore you—” He spoke against your lips, hands digging into your sides as you pulled lightly at his hair. You both craved closeness and finally had it. “How much I’ve wanted this, you—”

You whine into his mouth, pressing into him with everything you had.

His touch felt heavenly. After so many months, years of pent up romantic and sexual tension, his hands felt like divine fire against you. Every part of you ached for more of him, as now you were finally able to express your desires.

You pulled away, just enough to lean your foreheads together. Hitoshi’s pupils were blown wide, flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked, voice still small.

Hitoshi chuckled, popping a quick kiss onto your nose, “Honestly? I didn’t want you to think I was only your friend because I wanted fuck you.”

Your insides twisted.

“Do... you only want to fuck?” You asked, any movement to pull away blocked by Hitoshi’s hold on you. Your heart hammered in your chest.

You definitely wanted more than just a fuck, but you’d take what you could get.

(You wouldn’t have to.)

“Oh, no, not at all,” Hitoshi spoke matter of factly, wearing the smuggest grin. His lips went to just below the shell of your ear, “There’s plenty more that I want from you, (Y/N).”

“Hitoshi,” You nearly moaned his name as his lips brushed against your ear. “You g-gotta be careful, saying shit like that.”

“Why's that?” Hitoshi’s lips met the fragile skin of your neck and sank into him.

“You k-know why,” Your words trembled as he left trails of kisses against your neck.

All you wanted was more.

“Tell me. I love hearing your voice,” Hitoshi crooned against your neck, pressing at the small of your back so you arched into him.

His words were so damn sweet, it made you melt inside and out as a high moan dribbled from your lips.

Hitoshi nearly growled against your neck, sucking at the skin at your collar. You fisted the back of his sweater, toes curling against the carpet—

And then a soft knock echoed from the door.

You both stopped dead, freezing.

Quickly, Hitoshi straightened out, but not before pressing a loving kiss to the skin he bruised.

“Foods here.” He smiled at you as you breathed, open-mouth and near panting.

-------------------------------

Hitoshi came back from the door with the food, setting it on the coffee table and falling onto the couch. You followed suit as Hitoshi took out a few takeout boxes, handing one to you.

“I got that breakfast combination you always get, I hope that’s okay,” Hitoshi passed you a fork as you nodded.

“How are you so calm right now?” You asked, turning to him and folding your legs under your body.

Hitoshi turned as well, raising an eyebrow and holding up one of his hands between the two of you.

It was shaking violently.

“Not calm, at all. Just composed,” Hitoshi broke into his own food, taking a bite. “Eat something, (Y/N).”

You couldn’t fight him on that. Despite the elated, anxious, (horny) twisting of your gut, the smell of comfort food soothed you after such an eventful night.

The two of you ate in relative silence, both in shared contemplation. It was comfortable, sounds of the city neighborhood and old house filling the space with enough ambient noise to feel natural.

You finally set down your empty box, eyes flickering to Hitoshi as he finished off his food, a bit of egg stuck to his fork.

“I was being serious earlier, you know,” You rubbed at the fabric of your dress, suddenly very aware of the way it rode so high. “About sleeping in your bed rather than the couch.”

“I figured you were,” Hitoshi replied, setting his own food down to face you. “I never said you couldn’t.”

“Let’s clear the air then, if that’s okay,” You asked, a bit uncertain.

It all felt a lot better when Hitoshi grabbed one of your hands, rubbing his thumb along your knuckles. He nodded to you to keep talking.

“So, I like you. You like me.” You began.

Hitoshi nodded again, a cute smile creeping at the corners of his mouth.

“You... don’t just want to fuck?” Your words sounded unsure, but Hitoshi quickly nodded.

“I’d prefer more, but I’ll take what I can get,” Hitoshi shrugged.

You definitely felt somewhat settled and a whole lot less insecure.

If anything, you felt bold.

Very bold.

Before Hitoshi could react, you shoved Hitoshi’s shoulder into the back of the couch. Your bare legs went over either side of Hitoshi’s built thighs, squeezing as you straddled him.

You could feel the way your dress rode up, almost showing off your ass.

(Not like Hitoshi already hadn’t seen it that night—)

You stared him up and down with lowered lips, biting your lip gently.

His violet tresses were wild, roughed up from the night’s events. His cheeks were stained pink, eyes tearing over your figure.

His hands darted to your waist, rubbing his thumbs over your ribs.

“What do you want?” Hitoshi asked, finally breaking his composure with cute, breathless words.

Your trembling hands cupped his face as you leaned into him. Your ghosted your lips over his, breath mingling as you spoke, well aware of what you were doing.

“I just want you, Hitoshi. All of you. I think I have for a long time.”

That was enough for the two of you.

Hitoshi grabbed at you with a possession that made your insides turn to jelly. His lips pressing to your own, licking in your mouth with a fervor that you craved. One of his hands moved to just below your ass, squeezing the flesh with a grip that was sure to bruise. His other hand tangled into your hair, pulling you to angle your mouth just right against his own.

His actions had a fever to them, hands and lips moving in a way that pulled and pushed you perfectly. You knew from goddamn kink night, that Hitoshi was a far more dominant person, but now that you were getting a personal taste? You felt intoxicated by his demanding touch.

All you could do was grab onto the front of his sweater, kissing him with everything you had.

As Hitoshi’s hand slid up to your ass, you experimentally ground down on the growing bulge in his jeans.

He let out a broken moan, roughly grabbing your backside and moving for you to repeat the motion. You arched into the friction, keening in the back of your throat as Hitoshi nipped at your jaw.

“Fuck, Hitoshi,” You moaned, your hands trailing down his chest to tease at the hem of his sweater.

Hitoshi wasn’t one to be beat, licking a line from your collarbone to your ear, biting and kissing to his heart's content. Your hips stuttered against his own, both of you moaning in tandem. His hardened cock pressing against your practically bare sex made your head spin with potential.

You grabbed at his hips beneath his sweater, dipping just below his waistband—

Suddenly, Hitoshi pulled away from your neck, breathing hard and slow. He swallowed, grabbing your face in both of his hands and peppering slow kisses all over your face.

“You have no fucking idea—” Hitoshi kissed your roughly, squeezing at your jaw. You moaned so prettily for him as he swallowed your sounds with a groan. He pulled away, sighing deeply, “how badly I want to keep going, but—”

You finished his sentence, sighing and touching your forehead to his, “It has been a long night.”

Hitoshi made a noise of agreement, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before you pulled back, “Is that alright?”

You shook out your own breath, nodding, “Of course. I want to keep going too, but I don’t want to rush anything. Wanna make sure we’re comfy, you know?”

Hitoshi rumbled out a laugh, pulling you into a solid embrace. His nose pressed into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, nuzzling into you, “You gotta stop being so sweet, (Y/N).”

You raised your eyebrow, threading your hands through his hair, feeling how he instantly relaxed into your touch, “What did I do?”

“I mean, your existence is pretty sweet. Cute too. Sexy. Hot. I could go on,” Hitoshi nipped at your neck, daring to suck gently at the weak skin. “But, I think that would just rile me up more.”

“Good point,” You gently tugged his hair to bring his face back to yours. “Your room?”

He kissed you in reply.

The shattering of tension left a gentle warmth running through you, and you couldn’t wait to see what else was to come.

----------------------------------

The two of you swayed upstairs hand-in-hand.

It felt weirdly domestic, rubbing off your makeup with the cleansing wipes you had long stored at Hitoshi’s for late nights studying or drinking.

He stood next to you, brushing his teeth in a roomy tee and sweats. You still wore your party dress, rumpled and a bit too dirty for comfort. You found yourself glaring your body down, remembering the very sour event of the evening. Your skin crawled and itched.

Hitoshi caught it easily. He knew you so well.

“You wanna ‘showber?” Hitoshi’s words came out garbled through the foam in his mouth.

“That might be best, yeah,” You sighed in some form of defeat, nervously rubbing your arms for a moment. Hitoshi spit and rinsed as you finished removing the mascara from your eyes.

As you finished, Hitoshi urged you to sit on the toilet seat, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he darted from the room. You straightened up at the freely given affection, loving the way your heart pounded. He returned quickly, carrying a fluffy towel and a pile of folded clothes.

“Take your time. If you need anything, just shout, okay?” Hitoshi laid them on the counter and squatted down in front of you, taking your hands in his and squeezing.

You nodded.

It wasn’t the first time you had taken a shower at Hitoshi’s. You could only be thankful that he and Sero had good enough hygiene habits that it was fairly clean for a college house.

You felt damn near euphoric, getting to wash the sweat, fear, touches and smoke from your skin and hair. You took extra care to cleanse your body the best you could, washing everything properly and thoroughly.

(You know, just in case.)

(For the morning.)

You digress.

Warmed and feeling far more clean both mentally and physically, you toweled off and slipped into the clothes Hitoshi left. The shirt he gave you was way too large, nearly hanging off of one of your shoulders. He must’ve had it mixed in with laundry as it held the scent of his pine-ish cologne that had always made you melt. The sweats he loaned to you also fit poorly, but you didn’t mind too much.

You padded your way into Hitoshi’s room.

It was a familiar spot. Many nights were spent here drunkenly carousing with your pals, rolling on the worn hardwood. Many hours had been spent splayed out on the floor, both of you pouring over textbooks and academic journals, constructing brutal papers with the aid of unhealthy amounts of lukewarm black coffee.

Hitoshi’s room, for a long time, strangely, had been incredibly comfortable and safe. On a night like this one, you couldn't be more glad.

His room was dimly lit, yellowish string lights hung on the ceiling. They dimly illuminated the many gig posters, prints, and thrifted picture frames he had amassed over the years. A desk in the corner, an aged dresser, and a (blessedly) queen-sized bed with a comfy black duvet.

You blinked at Hitoshi, noting the lack of his usual clutter around the room, “Did you clean while I was in the shower?”

Hitoshi was standing in the corner, tapping away at his phone with a furrowed brow, but managed to look up and flash you a smile, “Maybe.”

You chuckled, walking up to him and comfortably wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your face in his arm. You felt him jump a bit, but quickly relax.

It was all new to both of you, but very welcome.

“Is everything alright?” You asked, watching the way Hitoshi frowned at his phone.

He ran a hand over his face, sighing, “How surprised would you be if I told you Denki and Hanta blacked out and puked on the way back?”

“Not very surprised, but still, yikes,” You looked up at Hitoshi. “Are they coming back here? I’ll babysit if you have to, too.”

He turned to give you a small, sympathetic smile, “That is very sweet of you, but it sounds like they’re going to crash Momo’s or Katsuki’s.”

You felt... suspicious.

You narrowed your eyes at him, eyes darting to your purse on his nightstand, “I haven’t checked the group chat, but did you put something in the group chat?

Hitoshi took a sharp inhale, a cute blush painting his nose and cheeks, “It may have slipped that we finally... said we liked each other.”

“May have?” You raised an eyebrow.

“There may have been a betting pool that I have just been made aware of—”

“Did... Did they all know?”

“And, they wanted to give us some privacy—”

You covered your face with your hands, leaning into him, “Jesus fucking—”

“Very considerate of them, considering,” Hitoshi sighed, pocketing his phone and wrapping his arms over your shoulders. “I’d much rather be sleeping next to you than dealing with blackout Denki.”

“True, true,” You sighed, uncovering your face to look up at Hitoshi. He was beaming at you with a look of adoration that made your chest ache. You frowned, “Are you gonna be able to sleep?”

You knew of Hitoshi’s insomnia well. Though you could manage to sleep, his inability to fall into slumber was something he wrestled with daily. You knew he was able to sleep some, but it was a great difficulty and was the root cause of his incessant caffeine consumption.

“I’m gonna try, if not, it’ll be okay, I’ll at least be very comfortable,” He rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “Besides, it’s easier to sleep next to someone.”

“Really?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. “Like, has it always been easier for you to sleep with someone?”

Hitoshi gave a little sigh, nodding.

“Dummy,” You snorted, lightly flicking his nose. “You could’ve asked me.”

“To... Sleep with me?” Hitoshi blinked down at you.

“Yeah. I would’ve said yes,” you shrugged easily. It was hardly a question. Even if you didn’t have incredibly strong feelings for Hitoshi, you would’ve tried to help. “I’ve always cared about you like that.”

Hitoshi closed his eyes and took a big inhale, the hands on your arms speeding up a little, “You have no idea what you do to me, do you, (Y/N)?”

Your gut dropped, “I don’t—”

Hitoshi didn’t give you a chance to fully answer him before leaning down abruptly and scooping you into his arms. Your arms flew to his neck for purchase as he cradled you to his chest, squeezing and walking to the bed.

“You are just so fucking sweet,” Hitoshi set you down on the bed, allowing you to adjust yourself to look up at him. You sat on your legs, kneeling while looking up at him.

He bit his lip, eyes widened and glassy looking down at you. You gulped as you heard his shaking breaths, felt his trembling hand cup your cheek.

“You’re way too good,” Hitoshi breathed, shaking his head.

The incredibly tense sexual aura of the moment dissipated as Hitoshi sat next to you on the bed, scooting to the inside of the mattress and pulling up the comforter.

Part of you was disappointed, feeling lingering pressure between your thighs, but the more sensical part of you was very tired and wanted nothing more than to finally hold Hitoshi and fall into sleep.

“Hey, get over here,” Hitoshi knocked you from your thoughts as his arms wrapped around your waist. He dragged you up, fitting you in the crook of his arm, pressing his nose into your hair. “If you’re in my bed, you’re gonna be in my bed, fully committed.”

“I’m not complaining,” You purred, more than satisfied with throwing your leg of his own, curling in his chest.

Part of you wanted to check, to confirm that all of this was okay. The night had been a lot and you were sure both of you were pretty keyed up from everything. Getting together with Hitoshi was hardly the outcome you expected of the ‘sex party,’ but you weren’t going to complain. Fuck, you could hardly do anything as Hitoshi’s cologne, heat, and firm body were already lulling your body to sleep.

“You are sleeping, aren’t ‘ya?” Hitoshi teased, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You made a small noise, the most you could muster before burying yourself at his collarbone.

Sleep quickly took you under, Hitoshi beaming you the sweetest smile and lavishing you with quiet, subtle affections as not to wake you.

--------------------------

You woke up to dawn light streaming in through a slit in a familiar set of curtains. You grumbled, half-awake, but really not wanting to move. You were too comfortable. Warmth filled your body, peace floated over your slumber-hazed mind and you couldn’t help letting out a content sigh.

The presence of heat let out a familiar chuckle.

You slowly opened your eyes again, becoming aware of the fact that you were half sprawled over Hitoshi. He was looking down at you, sweetly, eyebrow raised.

You literally gasped.

Hitoshi’s hair was tousled and far more wild with bedhead. The amethyst yolks of his eyes were lit up by the early morning light, and he just beamed down at you.

“You’re so pretty,” You let slip.

The events of the night prior became fresh in your mind. The good ones far outweighed the bad. It was even easier to ignore any and all sour feelings because fucking finally you and Hitoshi were in bed together.

Finally.

“Why, thank you. You’re pretty beautiful yourself, you know.”

You were going to nut.

His. Voice.

It was always deep, a rolling bass, but addled with sleep? It was graveled and coarse and it made you literally wet.

“Fuck.” Was all you could muster as you slowly sat up.

Hitoshi squeezed you around your ribs, a knowing look and smile stretched across his face.

The hold on your waist reminded you that Hitoshi was, in fact, holding you. His hands, soft for how large they were, massaged slow, deep circles just above your hips and through your borrowed shirt. You had to have slept tucked up into him like that all night.

You hoped there would be many more like it.

“Did you sleep okay?” You asked, your own voice rough.

Hitoshi grinned drowsily, “I did. It’s a hell of a lot easier next to you.”

You couldn’t suppress the way your lips curled into a smile. Leaning forward, you ran your hands up his chest to brace yourself, leaving a soft kiss on his lips, “I’m glad. Very glad. Wanna do it again sometime?”

“Oh, (Y/N),” Hitoshi rumbled, hands moving up to tickle lightly at your ribs. “Now that I’ve gotten a taste of how lovely it is to sleep next you, I don’t know if I’ll ever let you sleep anywhere else.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Let me? Interesting word choice.”

“Intentional word choice,” Hitoshi’s eyes darkened, tracing your form as he wet his lips, “You like a bit of control exerted on you, don’t you, (Y/N)?”

You shuddered as Hitoshi dragged you closer, up his body so your hips straddled his own.

“I mean, yeah,” you breathed, clothes beginning to feel way too hot atop your skin. “You were there for kink night, weren’t you?”

You tried to joke, but Hitoshi didn’t let you.

“I was there,” One of Hitoshi’s hands tangled into your hair, rubbing affectionately, but your gut told you he had other, more particular, plans. “And, I have a good memory.”

Without missing a beat, Hitoshi flipped the two of you.

Your back hit the mattress and knocked the wind out of you. A breathy gasp fell from your lips, unabashed as Hitoshi was suspended on top of you.

You almost spoke, but then you noticed the way Hitoshi was looking at you, and you couldn’t. Whatever breath that laid in your lungs slowly dripped out.

He was looking at you like a man starved.

His eyes glittered as he traced each curve of your body, pliant and beginning to tremble under his touchless attention.

“Y-you’re bold, you know that?” You managed to stutter out.

Hitoshi chuckled to himself, shaking his head, “Just observant. You always say that I’m a good listener.”

You shuddered as Hitoshi leaned down, nose trailing down your jaw to your pulse point. He paused above the fluttering beat of your heart before licking a strip down your neck with the flat of his tongue.

“Jesus, Hitoshi,” You scraped out, swallowing as heat rushed through your tense body.

He pulled away, only to hover just above your face, staring into your eyes with an intensity that would be stifling from anyone else other than him.

“Do you want me to keep going? We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable,” Holy fuck, did Hitoshi’s voice somehow get lower? Is that what fucking happened when he got horny?

You were going to die.

“No, no, we should keep going, yes,” You really tried not to sound desperate, but it hardly mattered. Hitoshi could more than tell, he knew you so well.

You didn’t give him a chance to tease you, hands clasping behind his head to gently pull him down to your lips.

God, you were positive you wouldn’t ever tire of Hitoshi in any way. Everything about him seemed so right, good and perfect especially near you.

Hitoshi nipped at your bottom lip, one of his hands insistently rubbing at the bones of your hip. You shuddered at the onslaught of sensations, slotting your mouth against his to bring him as close as you could manage.

One of your hands flitted down his frame, tugging at the hem of his sleep shirt. You’d seen Hitoshi shirtless plenty of times, eyed him as much as was acceptable for ‘bros’, and then moved on with a reddened face, but you would be damned if you weren’t going to ogle him a bit, now that you had the open opportunity to.

Hitoshi sat back on your hips, pulling his shirt over his head with ease and became what you could only be certain was a manifestation of your dreams.

It was clear he indeed had very much been working out, all the muscles of his abs and arms were toned and well-used, even holding a bit of the tan from when he started his training last summer.

You noted, drool puddling in your mouth, that he (and assumedly Denki) did get their nipples pierced for their ten-year friend-iversary last fall. Cute barbels hung from his nipples, surprising, but also very hot. You followed the ‘v’ of his hips to the waistband of the soft grey sweatpants he was wearing, noting with a shocked raise of the eyebrows that Hitoshi was already considerably hard and considerably large.

“You like what you see?” Hitoshi teased, leaning back over you to worry at your neck with a few well-placed licks.

You swallowed, hands pressing to his chest, running up and down the soft skin before going to pinch one of his nipples, “I really do, fuck.”

Hitoshi’s breath stutters against your neck, “Like ‘em?”

“I thought you two were kidding.”

“Oh, never—!”

Hitoshi’s words were yanked from his chest as you pinched and twisted both of his nipples, albeit lightly. You were doing it partially to get a reaction and gauge how sensitive he was. With the way he whined from the back of his throat, you inferred that he was very sensitive.

“Aren’t there more important things you could be doing with your hands?” You chided, though not an edge of malice was in your voice.

Hitoshi just seemed spurred on by this, grunting and swiping your wrists into his grip. Your hands were pressed above your head, pinned to the mattress by his body weight.

A low whine spun from the back of your throat.

“You’re really lucky that I like brats and that I love you—”

Both of you paused.

He...

Did he just—

Did he just drop the L bomb?

He dropped the L BOMB .

You stared up at Hitoshi, frowning at the absolute terror in his eyes.

“I, I mean, I didn’t mean it like that,” Hitoshi sat back up on you, nervousness in every motion of his body. “I just meant—”

“Hey,” You interrupted, sitting up with him. “I love you too, you know. I’m pretty sure I have.”

Hitoshi doesn’t say anything for a minute and neither do you. You’re both in stunned silence. Enraptured by the other, your forms painted with the precious, vibrant gold that streamed in from the curtained window. The other sounds were that of the ambient city awakening and the unsteady breath that was shared between the two of you.

It was oddly perfect, and neither of you complained.

“So,” Hitoshi broke the silence, running his hands up your arms. “I love you.”

Oh, did it feel like a drug to hear his morning voice say the new phrase in such a way.

You nodded, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his navel, “And I love you.”

“Then, it’s settled.”

There was certainly more to discuss involving the nature of your relationship, including the fact that you both had your heads so far up your asses for so long and were definitely in denial for a good portion of time, and that your love was a lot more complicated than either of you were making it out to be.

But, you both certainly shared the history for it.

All of the late nights where you both eyed the other secretly, turning away at the last moment before being noticed.

There were plenty small moments of caring, too.

There was the way how whenever you were over, you made Hitoshi a new pot of coffee, no matter if the old one was out.

There was Hitoshi’s intentional habit and insistence (that had lasted years) that he walked you back from parties, sharing cigarettes or half-carrying you. He never minded.

There was the way you had memorized each other's takeout orders months ago.

There was the small drawer in Hitoshi’s desk that was dedicated to things you left and might need. Several extra pairs of socks, makeup remover, a spare notebook, an extra laptop charger for when you inevitably forgot your own.

There was, of course, the way that you and Hitoshi were currently looking at each other. Fuck whatever fragile, easy-to-tear-away eye contact that had been occurring between the two of you for years, all that there was now between was the collection of lost time.

“Please kiss me.”

The request was obliged.

Hitoshi was quick to pin you back to the mattress, bratty behavior forgotten and stored away. There would be plenty of time to explore that mutual side of your relationship, but now only desire was Hitoshi and your shared pleasure.

Your lips slotted together, pulling a moan from your chest as Hitoshi immediately licked his into your mouth. It was a bit sloppy, rushed in the heat of the moment, but he quickly slowed down. Cupping your jaw, he deepened the kiss as you moved against him, lightly rolling your hips for any sort of friction.

You were the first to pull away, nosing to his jaw and lavishing it with bites and kisses. The rough groans and grunts that Hitoshi spilled were all the motivation you needed to go lower and lower on his neck.

Marking him as you pleased, you sucked at the skin of his neck, leaving bruises and spittle in your wake. You teasingly blew at the wet spots a few times, loving the way he shivered against you.

Hitoshi wasn’t to be outplayed, hands roving over your body. He left quick squeezes and rolled his thumbs anywhere he could reach. It was like he had to touch everything.

Your back arched and you cried into his neck as Hitoshi’s hands squeezed your breasts over your shirt, worrying a nipple with the pads of his fingers in the same way that you did to him earlier.

“Can’t take what you dish out?” Hitoshi chuckled in your ear as you squirmed underneath him.

You shook your head, biting on one of his collar bones, “I want more.”

His lips were back on your own before you could think.

You could feel how wet you were getting, unattended heat that desperately needed contact of any kind. As Hitoshi’s teeth nipped your neck, trailing lower to the wide collar of your shirt, it only got worse.

“Can I take this off?” Hitoshi asked, ever the gentleman.

You didn’t answer, but rather whipped your shirt off as quickly as possible.

And then your upper half was bared to him.

Your breasts spilled with gravity and rose and fell with your own light panting, glistening with sweaty dew.

You swallowed as Hitoshi’s hand went to your navel, flat-palmed. Slowly, he dragged it upwards, stopped to palm your tits only for a moment. You took note of how thick his fingers were and how you wanted nothing more than for them to fuck you into oblivion.

His fingers trailed to your sternum, then to your throat, tracing up the column before roughly grabbing your jaw.

“You,” Hitoshi voice sounded thick as he pressed his knee into your sex. “Have no idea what you to do me.”

“Then fucking show me.” You spit back out at him, one of your hands teasing at the top of his waistband,

Fuck Hitoshi’s knee, apparently, because he immediately slid down the bed to hover in between your legs.

You snapped your knees closed out of surprise, all the same dripping against your panties

“You want me to show you?” Hitoshi seemed to be speaking more to himself than you. “Then I will.”

Hitoshi slipped his thumbs under the waistband of the borrowed sweats, pulling them down and off of you with ease. He situated himself back between your legs, parting you by your inner thighs with a bruising grip.

You heard his sharp intake of breath as he hovered so close to your sex.

“Already so wet for me? I’m flattered.” Hitoshi didn’t give you any chance to quip back as he licked your slit through your thin panties.

You squirmed for him, all for him.

“Please, more, ‘Toshi,” Your voice was warped with pleading, but you could hardly care. The burning look that Hitoshi flashed you was more than enough to nonverbally explain his intentions.

He set to marking up your thighs, murmuring sweet nothings to and about the flesh and how you cried out for him so well. He dotted you with lovely bruises, kissing closer and closer to your dripping cunt.

With one final, pleading look, Hitoshi all but tore off the thin panties you wore and ravished you.

He licked from your opening to your clit with a flat tongue, making your thighs stiffen and toes curl. You felt him hum against you as he shifted your legs over his shoulder. One of his arms wrapped under your thigh, pressing at the bottom of your tummy and locking you in place.

He sucked hard on your clit, just once, almost as some sexual litmus test to assess your ability to move freely.

It was very low as all you could do was arch for him, whines filling the air.

It seemed like it was more than enough for him.

Hitoshi tongue fucked you sloppy, refusing to give you any more stimulation on your clit, no matter how you tried to buck at his face. All Hitoshi’s hold would allow you to do was gently grind against his face as slick and spit soaked the bed below. It was more than enough to make your brain gummy, craving nothing more and more of his touch.

You squeezed your thighs around Hitoshi’s cheeks as he carefully pressed one of his aforementioned thick fingers into your cunt. Hot pleasure permeated every corner of you as you panted for Hitoshi, all for him.

He curled his finger just right and you screamed.

Hitoshi was quick to take the hint, pushing around another inside to repeat the motion, lips, and tongue working your clit as the pressure built beautifully.

“You close, kitten?” Hitoshi’s words were muffled by your cunt, but holy fuck, you knew exactly what he said.

You whined at the use of the word, nodding and panting out a muddled affirmative.

Hitoshi sucked lewdly at the mess between your legs, pulling your body to the apex of its hot pressure, before breaking.

Your back curled off the bed, Hitoshi’s hold released to all you to fully fuck his face as he slurped at the juices between your thighs. Your mind went fuzzy as pleasure crackled through your frame, fingers curling into the rumpled fabric below and your head bowing back into the pillows.

You slowly came down, twitching as Hitoshi continued to kiss around your sex. You could half-tell he was grinding against the bed; he was that turned on.

You sat up, swaying a bit, drunk on bliss, and already semi-fucked out.

Yet, you still wanted more.

“‘Toshi, please,” You looked at him helplessly.

He sat up on his knees, hands going to play with your tits as he raised a smug eyebrow, face wet with you, “Want my cock, kitten? Is that it?”

“Holy fuck, ‘Toshi, please,” Your voice came out as mixture between a whine and growl as Hitoshi chuckled, reaching to the side for the nightstand and condoms, you assumed.

“I thought I’d have to do more to get you begging, with that little bratty shit you pulled earlier,” He mused, stepping off the bed for only a moment to finally pull off his sweats.

If your mouth had been any more open, drool would have fallen into your lap.

Hitoshi was, once again, sculpted. The guy put in work and it showed. That was less important and less relevant as you were currently lewdly, literally, drooling over his cock. It wasn’t only cervix-shatteringly long, but it was thick and curved just right. It was flushed, fully hard against his abs and leaking beads of preek, all from the friction of the bed and giving you head.

“Can I do it?” You asked as Hitoshi unwrapped the condom.

He nodded, cheekily, handing you the package.

You crawled to the edge of the bed, stopping to sit on your knees as he stood above you. Carefully, you rolled the rubber on, clenching your thighs together as your oversensitive cunt throbbed.

You stared at its girth, biting your lip nervously and looked up at Hitoshi.

Immediately, his gaze softened and he caught your face in his hand, thumbing over your cheek, “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, just, uh,” You stumbled over your words, gaze flipping from his very pretty cock and his very pretty face. “Do you have lube? It’s been a while and I don’t want to tear.”

“I do,” Hitoshi’s worry dissolved, pulling a bottle from the same drawer and tossing it on to the bed. “And, I will try my best not to tear you. We can go as slow or as fast as you like, hm?”

You nodded, biting your lip and crawling back onto the bed.

Hitoshi cooed sweet words to you as the two of you adjusted. Perhaps it was to his own natural nervousness, or maybe yours. All the same, the loving comments about your body and how good you were for him turned you to putty underneath him.

Your legs were thrown up over his shoulders, feet prepared to lock behind his head. Hitoshi knelt between your legs, holding your thighs spread as his lubed cock ran over your folds.

“Tell me if you need me to go slower, okay?” Hitoshi reminded you, ever attentive.

You gulped as Hitoshi breached your cunt with the head of his cock and holy fuck. You stretched, and it burned, but it was nothing that you couldn’t handle. Hitoshi kept praising you, running his lips wherever they could reach as he leaned over your pillow-propped form. Inch by inch, he pushed into you, stopping when your breathing got too harsh.

And then, Hitoshi’s cock was fully sheathed into you and you felt so fucking full, you could die.

“Hey, ‘Toshi?” You spoke breathlessly, wiping sweaty strands of violet hair from his cheeks. “I love you, okay? For a lot more than your dick, but this is a huge perk and I’d feel bad not saying so.”

He was still and silent for a moment, head bent out of your view.

“You’re gonna tell me, while I’m buried this deep in this cute, little cunt of yours, such sweet shit? That you love me?” Hitoshi growled, darkened eyes lust-hazed.

You nodded.

Hitoshi swiftly pulled almost entirely out of cunt, only to slam back into you, angling your hips perfectly to hit your g-spot.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, head thrown back and you gave a breaking wail, body shaking with the sudden cracking of pleasure.

And, Hitoshi didn’t relent.

He continued his hard, deep, and long thrusts, increasing his speed as he felt you loosen for him. With each thrust, wet squelching sounds spurred the two of you on.

Hitoshi’s face buried itself in your neck, sucking harsh marks that sparked pain across your heated skin. You couldn’t get enough of it. You couldn’t get enough of him.

Hitoshi accented each thrust with a more desperate, broken sounding ‘I love you,’ quickly unraveling at the seams as his thrusts and kisses became more erratic.

He reached between the two of you, blessedly circling your clit as your own orgasm was close to cresting.

You came before Hitoshi, just by a second, the clenching of your cunt and the way you moaned his name being more than enough for him to blow his load, fucking you through both of your orgasms.

You both stilled, panting.

Hitoshi fell next to you on the bed, instantly pulling you to his chest and smothering you with kisses. You returned them, shuddering and coming down from the earth-shattering peak you had just been at.

“Fuck, Hitoshi,” You squeezed around your arms around his waist. “You fuck like a god.”

He shook his head, pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple, “You say shit like that and it’s gonna inflate my ego.”

“Guess I gotta keep saying it, then.”

You smiled up at him, moving to straddle his waist, ignoring your bodily complaints.

“I love you, you know,” Hitoshi beams from below you, looking at you with a reverence that you craved for so long, but were too afraid to voice.

You let out a shaking breath, smiling right back, “I love you, too.”

Hitoshi pulled you in for a sweet kiss you returned easily, smiling against his lips, melting into him—

His cock hardened against your thigh.

“Round two?” Considering the smiles you beamed each other, that was a definite ‘yes, please’.

But, you were rudely interrupted by the slammed of the front door. You both stiffened, Hitoshi immediately going to grab your waist and drag you onto the bed. He threw a blanket over you, but it was hardly necessary.

Denki’s voice rang over the house, “HEY! Did y’all fuck yet? If you did, please tell me. I’m against Mina in the betting pool and I’m in deep.”

All you and Hitoshi could spare was a laugh and a sweet kiss, before you shouted back, “What do you think?!”

#salem writes #shinso hitoshi x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #mha smut #mha x reader #mha reader insert #shinso x reader #shinso hitoshi x y/n #hitoshi shinso x y/n #bnha x reader #shinso hitoshi #shinsou x you #my hero academia shinsou

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mhathotfic · 4 years

Text

Here’s another repost, but this time I edited one part because I didn’t like how I wrote it the first time.

Warnings: swearing, omegaverse

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x reader x Eijirou Kirishima

“How exactly did I end up like this? (Yn) sighed playing with the hem of the new hoodie that adorned her body. It was black with a red hood and the word ‘princess’ scrawled in red cursive diagonally across the torso, the 'i’ was dotted with a skull wearing a crown.

Where Katsuki found it she’ll likely never know, she loved it though. She always loved his courting gifts. he was surprisingly thoughtful about them, typically getting her things he noticed she needed. So, what’s the problem then? If she was happy with his attempts at courtship, then why was she so distraught? Simple, there was another Alpha attempting to court her. Eijirou Kirishima, one of Katsuki’s closest friends was also interested in her.

She reached a hand up, gently stroking the pale orange ribbon holding her hair out of her face. It was kinda funny actually that their gifts to her always had an element that reminded her of the other. It was wishful thinking, she knew it was, but she couldn’t help but hope that it meant something, anything.

It would be easier that way. She wouldn’t have to choose that way. She huffed at herself, annoyed by her own selfishness. She couldn’t stand these feelings of hers, but she couldn’t stand the thought of being without either of them more. A bitter taste crawled its way into her mouth as a revaluation came to mind: if she chose an Alpha, she’d likely ruin their friendship.

Why couldn’t she have just fallen for one Alpha? And why did she have to go and fall for a pair of best friends? Really though how could she not? Eijirou was so kind and caring, always paying attention to things she liked and encouraging her to strive for the best. He always knew what to say to cheer her up and when to say it. And Katsuki? Well, while a little rough around the edges he was caring in his own way. Making sure she took care of herself and scolding her when she didn’t. He was a lot easier on her than most realized, his stern voice holding a harsh tone but never quite rising to a yell.

She sighed once again deciding to put those thoughts to the side for a moment. She had a more relevant, slightly less frustrating situation to deal with. They were late. They always met her outside the library to walk her back to the dorms. Eijirou would happily talk about his day making sure to ask about hers. While Katsuki would occasionally interject to correct a detail or two, or remind them both of homework or a test they needed to study for. They hadn’t ever forgotten before so, where were they?

She huffed starting to think that she should just head off on her own when she heard voices coming closer to her. She perked up when two familiar scents made their way to her nose despite the disgustingly overly sweet scents that fallowed them. "Seriously we really need to go, we hav-” “Oh come on! Can’t you spend a little time with us?” a voice purred out. A very flirty voice. (Yn) could feel anger starting to bubble up in her chest. Were some other Omegas trying to take her Alphas away?

She started her way over to the source of the sound, beyond pissed with she found. Her Alphas looked so uncomfortable. Some girls had practically wrapped themselves around them, it was clear that neither boy wanted to be in the situation. Katsuki looked close to blowing them up and Eijirou was trying desperately to pry himself free without harming the Omega clinging to him. “Wouldn’t you rather spend time with us than some indecisive sl-” “Fuck off!” Katsuki finally snapped “You have some fucking nerve, clinging to us like a pair of desperate fucking skanks and still have the audacity to think that you’re somehow better than our Omega?!”.

Despite her anger she couldn’t help the happy fluttering of her heart. 'Our’ his words replayed in her head 'He said our! Our Omega!’. She took a second to enjoy the feeling before returning to her original goal of getting those brats away from them. She gave a sweet smile while clearing her throat, gaining all their attention and playing innocent as she marched up to the two boys and pushing past the two other Omegas.

“What took you so long!” she whined nuzzling herself between them as close as she could “I’ve been waiting here for the past fifteen minutes at least!”. “Sorry Princess” Katsuki caught on to her game quickly, immediately calming down “We got held up”. Eijirou looked at them both confused for a moment before deciding to play along figuring that he wouldn’t be able to get out of their little game anyways “Yeah, you know we wouldn’t just leave you all by yourself unless something happened”. “Hm…” she hummed looking pointedly at the two Omegas who still stood in front of them with shock and disgust on their faces “I guess that explains why you both smell like cheap trash”.

Both Alphas had to bite their tongues trying not to laugh. They never knew she could be so petty but somehow it was endearing in way. “Excuse me?!” one of them screeched in a shrill voice “You’re excused”. “What?!” she screeched again taking a step closer only to be stopped by her friend who looked a bit fearful. “You heard me, you and your clearly smarter than you friend can leave and if I even smell you near my Alphas again-”.

“You’ll what? Send them after me?” (Yn) had to admit, that bitch had an almost admirable amount of stubborn bravery. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t have to rely on any Alpha to fight my fights for me. I got into the hero course on my own and I can definitely handle two brats who don’t know when to quit on my own” her voice was just as sickly sweet as their scents as she smiled and turned on her heels walking away with her boys and leaving the omegas behind before the had the chance too respond.

Their walk back to the dorms fell back into its normal pattern the only exception being the fact that she held their hands in her own. “So…” she mumbled wishing she could just leave well enough be, but she had to know “Are you two really ok with sharing an Omega?”. She looked at the ground as she spoke to nervous to look at either of them. They stopped walking and she swore she could hear her heart beating in her ears. “What are you talking about?” her heart stopped, she was dead, her heart had stopped and now she was dead. Eijirou sighed continuing to talk “We aren’t some five-year old’s who are fighting over the same toy, and you’re not a toy”. She breathed a sigh of relief but couldn’t quite shake all of her worries “You’re sure, right? This won’t be a problem?”. “Of course, not” Katsuki grumbled before ruffling her hair “You should know by now that I don’t share, you’re just as much mine as he is”. “Katsuki!” Eijirou yelled at him scolding him for his phrasing. (Yn) laughed watching them bicker, she couldn’t imagine herself without them.

#kirishima x reader #eijirou x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #kiribaku x reader

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strawberri-blonde · 3 years

Text

Grinchmis- George Weasley

Summary: George have never seen a single muggle Christmas movie but Y/n changes that.

Warning: Curse words and kissing.

It was really by chance that you attended the Weasleys Christmas. Mr Weasley had been fascinated with your work as a preschool teacher for the little muggles as he called them and one day when he was discussing with you about your work you had slipped on a sheet of ice causing you to fall and damage your skull causing a horrific concision. Instantly Arthur transported you both back to the burrow where Molly had given him the lecture of a lifetime before she fixed you right up. When you woke, you immediately thought that you had lost your mind because you saw a broom sweeping it’s self and a pot of hot water being poured in a cup, all on it’s on. Of course, you began to scream and ran out the door and it didn’t help that Fred, George, and Ron were flying around on their brooms sticks either. One could say you passed out but you would oppose saying that you “simply needed another nap.”

When you came to, Molly kept apologizing and apologizing while Arthur and the boys crowded around not knowing how to handle your reaction to the wizard world. At first you hand a minor panic attack then pinched yourself more than once to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Then as it all settled in, you glued to Molly’s side seeing at she was so kind and gentle. The older woman thought it was adorable and slowly explained some of the magical things and talked about normal stuff like family. That’s when you explained that when you bumped into Arthur you were on your way to your flat since school was out for the little ones for the holidays.

“So I guess we have to heal you quickly so you can get home for Christmas?” You blushed at her sweet words, then smiled while hiding your fingers in the long sleeves of the sweater that Molly had grabbed for you that had a letter ‘G’ knitted on the front.

“Actually,” you dragged out pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “My parents are in Fiji.” Molly’s eyebrows furrowed at your words. “Something about not wanting to spend another Christmas in London, so it’s just me.”

“You were going to spend Christmas alone.” You shamefully nodded your head as Molly continued. “What about friends.?”

“With their families and I didn’t want to bother them?”

“A boyfriend or girlfriend?” You instantly blushed at her words. “I don’t judge.” You picked up the tea pot and poured the hot water into the chipped teacup, watching as the teabag got soaked.

“No partner here.” Molly smirked at your nervousness and handed the milk over to you. To which you happily grasped in your hold.

“How about you stay for Christmas.”

“Ms. Weasley, I couldn’t.”

“Yes, you can.” The older woman gripped your biceps in a loving comfort. “No pressure but I would love for you to stay.”

You let a smile take over and tilted your head. “Are you sure?” Molly nodded eagerly. “Because you already have a full house.” The older woman raised her hands in protest.

“You’ll stay in my oldest sons room Bill. He’s not going to be home until Christmas Eve. Then we’ll figure out where you will stay.” Before you could protest Molly placed her finger and thumb in her mouth letting out a whistle. She grabbed her wand and placed it against her throat. “Fred. George.” The loud noise of her voice startled you so. A gasp escaped your lips as you heard loud footsteps from the stairs along with arguing.

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything?”

“Did you forget to hide it?”

“No it was you!”

“Boys!” Molly yelled at the two older men that looked to be near your age so approximately 22. Another thing that caught your eye was that they were twins; really attractive twins. “We have a guest.” The two gentlemen stopped shoving one another to get a glance in your direction.

Having their eyes on you made the nerves quite worse. You gripped the tea mug tightly in your hand and tried to advoid eye contact but the slightly taller twin caught your attention. And your cheeks began to burn bright red. “Boys this is Y/n and I need the two of you to be on your best behavior. George can you show her to Bill’s old room and Fred, I need your help in the kitchen.” The oldest twin with the green sweater let out a groan making George laugh.

“Why can’t George do it.” Molly looked at your gaze at her son and smirked before making a frown appear at Fred protest.

“Because I said so, now...” the older woman handed a pot of what looked like stuffing in Fred’s hands. “Get to work or no apple pie and George be on your best behavior.” The taller twin patted his brothers back then nodded his head.

Once his hazel eyes meet yours, you blushed again and walked over. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He smiled back and gestured up the stairs. “This way.” As George stepped on the first step he turned to you with a massive grin. “I was looking for that sweater but it looks better on you.” And that folks caused you to blush even harder making the crimson reach your ears. Noticing your flushed cheeks George started to develop a hint of red upon his pale cheeks as well.

—

Throughout the week you’ve gotten comfortable being around all of the Weasleys and even gotten to meet Rons friends Harry and Hermione. Being around them was a lot easier especially since they spent most of their time in the ‘muggle world’ as they called it.

The dining table was full as the Weasley and guests finished off the last of their desserts. You in fact had to cover your mouth as George wouldn’t stop whispering stupid jokes in your ear making it so difficulty to eat your meal. Molly and the other girls saw the little exchanges and couldn’t help but smirk at the cuteness. “Okay, well I guess it’s time for presents.” Aruthur stood up from the end of the long table gathering everyone’s attention and Molly stood as well to grab the gifts. You smiled at the family passing out gifts and cooed at the knitted scarfs Molly had made for her kids. Picking up your dirty dishes you excused yourself and brought what you could into the kitchen and started on the dishes. After a while Molly came rushing into the ‘heart of the home’ in distress. “What are you doing young lady?”

You quickly turned around and offered a smile. “I’m just washing the dishes Ms. Molly.” She rolled her eyes and grabbed your hands in hers. “Come on dear and open your present.”

“No.” You protested as she dragged you over to the table and you sat down letting her hand you the nicely wrapped gift. “I didn’t get you anything.” Molly shooker her head.

“Don’t worry about it dear. Your presence was enough.” You sighed in defeat but continued to look at her in plea.

“You might as well open it.” Ron laughed as Percy spoke.

“She’s not going to lighten up.” With that you stared down at the red wrapping and carefully opened it to reveal a green sweater with a golden initial of your first name. Tears swelled in your eyes but you refused to let them fall.

“Thank you, Molly and Arthur for this wonderful gift. This has probably been the best Christmas I’ve had in a while.” You stood up to hug the Weasley mother and in that sweet moment Fred had to speak.

“At least now she can stop wearing George’s sweaters.” You pulled away from his mom to glare at him jokily of course while a blush did make its way to both you and George’s cheeks.

“Shut up!” The tallest twin nudged his shoulder against Fred’s. “I don’t mind.”

“Oh I bet you don’t.” Charlie joked before taking a sip of his egg nog making the rest of the Weasley boys to laugh including Harry but the girls rolled their eyes at the none sense.

The night fall came quicker than you expected and you weren’t to excited. That just means Christmas is over and it gets closer to when you have to leave the burrow and join the real world again. Letting out a sigh you finished making your tea and started to make your way back to the living room where you would sleep that night since Bill was sleeping in his room with his wife.

As your eyes tried to adjust to the darkness you saw a large figure only a few inches away and you didn’t have time to react. You and the other person collided making the hot tea sink into your clothes burning your skin. “Shit.” Hearing that familiar voice you became nervous and instantly set the mug down and patted the Weasley twin’s chest.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Y/n.” He whispered out some foreign word and light sprung from his wand showing more of his handsome face. You were so caught up on his facial features that George must’ve thought that you couldn’t tell if you knew it was him.

“It’s George.” You shook your head and stepped back to reply.

“I know.” He furrowed his eyes then spelled to clean up the mess making you fall back into his arms. “You have a little hump on your nose while Fred’s is straight and he has smoother hair while yours is a little bit more textured.” George looked away with a blush. “You’re also a tad bit taller and have a nicer voice.” This shocked the both of you as you didn’t think that actually came from your lips while George couldn’t believe someone could tell the difference between him and his brother and that someone thought he had a nice voice. George pushed back a strand of hair and pulled you into the living room on the couch. Without thinking he lifted his sweater to to get rid of the wet clothing and you did the same. George tried to be a gentleman and looked away while you grabbed a blanket to cover yourself.

Smiling at each other you noticed the goosebumps on his arms and offered him some of the blanket. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” You rolled your eyes and scooted closer placing your legs over his lab and nuzzled your head in the nook of his neck shivering slightly at how cold his skin was. George let a smile take over as he rested his head against yours making you let out a sigh in comfort. “On the night of Christmas my family and I would watch one last Christmas movie and despite the presents and such that had to be one of my favorite things to do on Christmas.”

“I’ve never seen a muggle movie.” You popped your head up in shock while George couldn’t help but chuckle at your reaction.

“That’s crazy.” You exclaimed. “Isn’t your dad fascinated with my kind.” George didn’t stop the laughter as he rested his hands on your lower thigh and upper calf.

“Yeah but he doesn’t just steal stuff.” You laughed at him then nuzzled back into his side.

“I wish I’ve would’ve known. I would have brought a movie and my small little tv.” George circled his thumb against your skin letting his brain run a mile a minute.

“Give me the location.” You narrowed you eyes and looked up at him.

“What?”

“I think I know a spell where I can transport those things. I just need those exact locations.” After several attempts and many of them being George grabbing random objects from your room like your clock, a sock, even a bra that you’ve had on the floor. Finally the wizard teleported your tv and your favorite Christmas movie of all time, ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas.’

To be honest George wasn’t really paying much attention to the movie. All of his attention was on you. Your eyes were filled with joy; and happiness radiant off you in waves. Your arm was wrapped around his waist while his wiped around yours and his hand settle upon your thigh. The warmth you both radiant for each other was so peaceful and kept you both content. You let out a laugh from the Grinch’s dog Max having his one antler.

George’s heart raced as he thought of not seeing you again as the movie continued to play the red head worked up the courage to ask you a question. “What are you doing New Years Eve?” That question alone had you in a fury because to be honest you didn’t know.

“Um, probably be at home.” George gulped loudly letting it echoed throughout the small household.

“That’s cool.” His voice broke up in cracks as his throat tightened in fear. “W-ell,” he coughed. “Well, if you don’t want to be by yourself Fred and I are running a New Years Eve party at the shop and I would like it if you could come.” You lifted your head off his chest and shifted your weight so you could stared directly into those hazel eyes.

“I’d probably be the only muggle there wouldn’t I.” George awkward stretched the back of his head before replying.

“I mean there will be some half bloods but yeah.” He say your expression and rushed his words. “But I wouldn’t leave your side and everyone would love to meet you I mean you’re so nice and smart and you’re funny when you think you’re not and you have got to be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” You blushed at his words making George cover his mouth. “I’m sorry! If you don’t want-”

You cupped his cheeks into your hands and pressed your lips onto his. George didn’t respond at first from shock but quickly kiss you back with much need. You giggled into the kiss as he pulled you closer causing you to teasingly nibble his bottom lip. Without much thought George opened his mouth letting you slip your tongue into his mouth and you grazed it against his and pulled away making George extend his and you lick it slightly before pulling away all together and nuzzle into his chest. George tried to compress his not so little situation. “I’ll be there.” The Wealthy twin let a smile cover his features then pressed a kiss to your hairline and squeezed you more into him and finally started to watch the movie with the smile still onto his lips. It really was a good Grinchmis.

#hogwarts imagine #hogwarts #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley #george and fred weasley #fred weasley imagine

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cozycryptidcorner · 3 years

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The Mad Prince, Chapter 11 (sfw)

Chapter 10

“Are you sure?” You ask, gaping, and Clementine glares at you in response. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of how she has dedicated her entire life to identifying, hunting down, and killing driders, all while on the bloodied front lines of a war, so she is currently an expert on such a topic.

“Am I sure that the front line footage that some soldiers died to send back to base is somehow fabricated?” She asks, testily.

Your brain is buzzing like a thousand fireflies have crawled into your ears. “But that doesn’t make any sense, Clem.”

“You’re absolutely correct,” she still sounds vaguely pissed, but that’s her default tone. “Which means that there’s more than meets the eye, and we now have to figure out what.”

The keias values honesty, Elias’ words come back, unbidden, if you ask, he will answer.

“We can’t go prodding around now, though, because that will throw a lot of weird suspicion on you.” You bite at the skin around your thumb, trying to figure out how to go about this in the most delicate way possible.

After a moment of hard silence where you are almost too aware of how loud your breathing is, Clementine prods, “you and the prince or whatever he actually is weren’t acting too couple-y.”

Annoyance starts dripping into the hollow of your chest, and you feel a build of angry pressure beginning to rise. “He- he didn’t tell me he was engaged.”

For the first time since her bubbly mask fell off, she shows some semblance of human emotion by almost choking on her spit. Quickly, she gets herself under control and shakes her head as though she might have expected such, then sighs.

“I mean, and his fiance was assassinated. Elias told me she died of sudden heart failure, but like she was a drow and-”

“A drow?” She turns to you again, her eyes narrowed until they were almost slits, “as in, two legs and walking upright? Are you sure?”

“Y-yes,” the indignancy of being lied to by omission is still thrumming through your chest, “and he apparently really loved her.”

“Obviously so, because it would have been rather illegal for him to marry outside of his species.” Clem sits back up from her lounging position, plucking a flower that grew right in front of her legs.

You don’t like all this new information being rained down upon so quickly, but you suck in your breath and try to take this one in stride. There’s a dull thudding in your head, like a distant drumbeat. “So there are race-based marriage laws?”

“Of course, didn’t you know?”

No, you’re suddenly acutely aware of how unprepared you are. “The matchmakers didn’t make me aware of that.” You suppose it does explains a lot, like how stressed the prince is at you meeting the rest of his family, or how he doesn’t seem to want you to go out and explore on your own, and such.

Clementine lets out a gruff sigh, you suppose from frustration at having to hold your hand like a toddler throughout a warzone. You try to not let that bother you. It’s… not really your fault, is it? You didn’t want this to happen, if you could go back to your completely shitfaced self as you were about to enter all pertinent information to Starward Matchmakers™ glowing neon booth, you would bludgeon the back of your head with a bat.

“Okay, so someone is trying to kill you,” she holds up one finger, “and we know from that assistant guy that they are very capable of doing so,” she adds another finger, “and you aren’t even in the good graces of your princely other half, assuming that drider is who he says he is.”

You swallow thickly, feeling positively ill, pressing your fingertips into the pressure points on your temples in the hopes your brain might untangle. “Clementine?”

“Yeah.”

“The Starward Matchmakers™ did match me with the prince, right? This isn’t some kind of weird mistake? Or like… or like what they were trying to do with you?”

“Do you know anyone with the budget of a large government’s military that can handle a bribe of such proportions who might think it’s funny to pull such a dangerously cosmic prank?”

“No.” You look down at your hands as the last bit of hope that this might all be a nightmarish misunderstanding slips through your fingers.

Clementine softens, though only slightly, letting out another sigh and very awkwardly giving you a pat on the back, which is about the most she’ll ever offer in the way of sympathy. “Tough it out. Paint a pretty smile on that face of yours and maybe make out with him a little.”

“Clementine!” You raise your voice, then look self consciously back at your guards as they assess whether or not you need their aid. “That’s not how this works.”

“This is exactly how this works, kid, even if he’s an alien spider, he’s still a male.” She rolls her eyes. “And stop acting like a prude.”

“Yeah, but he is,” another wave of frustration razes through your blood and right to your fingertips. “One time I kissed him, he thought it was essentially a marriage proposal.”

Her face wrinkles into a grimace, but she seems to take in marginal good humor. “Okay, so he’s a virgin. That makes things easier, maybe just show him your ankle or something, he’d drool all over it.”

You’re going to say something snippy in response, maybe tell her that she should do the ankle-showing, but the mental image of the fucking drider prince of Lolth freezing as he stares at a bare leg and foot does have a level of absurdity to it that makes you choke your words down into a wry laugh. “I don’t know, maybe it will give him brain damage.”

“All the better to finish this war finally,” Clem stretches out her arms, “Anything else you’d like to fill me in on?”

“Heikka Nisesh, you know, the famous war criminal? He was supposed to be my first physician, but I threw a big enough fit that I ended up with a basic drow doctor.”

She immediately tenses, her entire body going into an alert that is unique to a trained soldier. “Tell me you’re joking. Now.”

“I’m not.”

There’s another expression in her eyes, now, one that you’re not at all familiar with. Panic, of which she’s obviously trying to settle so the guards don’t become suspicious and approach to get within hearing range. With a shuddering, tense breath, she shakes her head and tries to orient herself back into reality. With no small amount of room in her tone to be anything more than a command, she says, “know that they and I mustn’t ever meet, do you understand? We can’t cross paths, or this whole thing is going to dissolve.”

“Do you want to talk-”

“No.” She stands, glancing over at the guards. “I’d like a tour now.”

Shakily, you agree, getting up so fast you almost faint. There’s a brief dizziness rattling around in your skull, but you manage to get everything under control enough to show her around.

Whenever you aren’t in the gardens, you have to be very, very careful of dancing around talking normally and not revealing too much. Because ‘girl talk’ is supposed to be about boy troubles and gossip, but having a whole conversation about the crown prince monarch’s shortcomings when there are an indeterminate amount of people listening and reporting back to him doesn’t hold any appeal.

So the present conversation immediately drops as you give her your very restricted-access tour, the long hallways of the floor she is on, all the while she disguises her memorization of all exits and entrances as admiration for the architecture and ornate doors. There’s an odd kind of pinch throbbing between your eyes, and you have to stop for a moment to give yourself a moment to breathe.

“Are you alright?” For once, Clementine drops a shred of her false personality, her hand grabbing onto your arm almost tightly to hold you up if you faint.

“I just- I think I need to sit down.” The edges of your eyes blur somewhat, the top of your brain fuzzing over like someone poured a soft drink into your skull.

“Can you walk?” She asks, glaring at the guards when one of them steps forward, probably to carry you.

“Yeah,” you lie, hoping that you can just will yourself to keep from passing out, “I think your room is close enough.”

When you wobble just a bit, Clementine wraps her arm around your waist and props you up with her hip, then quickly gives up the strain of one arm and trades it in to pick you up like a baby.

You protest, of course you do, but there’s little you can do to actually wriggle out of her grip. Shockingly, it’s not the first time she’s had to carry you because of an almost skull-splitting headache, though the last time it was because she side-swiped your legs out from under you and your forehead was the thing to take the brunt of the fall. She also wasn’t so nice about it, either, dragging you to the side of the room by the arm like a ragdoll to await a medic.

Now, you suppose with the guards eying you, she can’t yank your limp body back to her room, and you’d honestly rather let her carry you than one of the drow guards. Once you get inside her apartment, she almost unkindly tosses you onto the couch, mumbling something about an ice pack or blanket.

“Did you call for someone?” She asks, and it takes your brain a muddled moment to realize that she isn’t talking to you.

Quiet mumbling, all things you can’t catch.

Almost impatiently, she yells, “are you both fucking daft? Call the assistant, what’s his face. The one with the white hair! Yes I mean the prince’s first servant, who else did you think I’m talking about?” Her words shift into a language you don’t understand as she walks over to the kitchen, but you’ve heard enough foreign swear words to know that she’s probably cussing them out of a job.

It doesn’t take too long for Elias to arrive, or maybe it took a long time, and your brain is just so fried you didn’t notice.

“Why isn’t there any ice in the foodkeep?” Clementine’s already pounced, and you’re not sure if this is her ‘worried best friend’ character or her actual self about to dress someone down for putting one of her soldiers in danger.

“For what, exactly?” Elias sounds slightly taken aback by the show of aggression, something rattling in his hands.

“For her head, stupid, she’s almost burning up!” Again, her language dissolves into something unintelligible, though her tone gets the message across. Maybe she’s showing a bit of both sides for your sake.

“I have some pills,” he almost sounds defensive, now, “it will help with the pressure, her head should-”

”Give me that,” Clem snaps, and you hear even more rattling as she looks over whatever he was about to give you. “What the hell are these?”

“Painkillers,” Elias takes her fury in stride, probably having dealt with much more significant threats in his day, “the best and highest dose for her human body. They were just imported from one of your human pharmaceutical companies, Bionova™, it’s what the matchmaker files suggested we get her.”

There’s another round of rattling, but then footsteps as Clementine sits herself on the couch, just in front of where your legs tug under a blanket she absentmindedly threw onto you earlier, and hands you the bottle.

Now you manage to sit up, despite the angry tightening in your skull, like each individual blood vessel in your brain is squeezing the gray matter down a size. Holding the pill bottle in one hand while scratching your arm nervously in the other, you ask Elias one more time. “You say these were imported?”

“Straight over the border,” Elias promises, “no one would want anything to happen to you.”

I beg to differ, you think, but pop the lid open anyway. The dull thrumming in your head has you almost desperate to do anything to get yourself rid of it, so you put one of the pills on your tongue and swallow it dry. Clementine, at least, is already rummaging through her cabinets until she finds a glass to fill with water.

“The keias has been notified of her condition, and will come as soon as he is able.”

You try not to roll your eyes, to be entirely honest, even shifting your irises sends a sharp nail through your head. “Tell him not to rush on my behalf.”

Again, Clementine sits by your side, handing a glass of water over and watches you gulp it down like a dehydrated animal. Elias, also, seems to watch you with a nervous regard in his eyes and dismisses the soldiers with nothing more than a couple of words. When the extra ears are out of the suite, he turns back over to you.

“This doesn’t leave this room,” he starts, glaring over at Clementine, “but I want you to be aware that he can’t seem to have any weaknesses for you, which is why he isn’t rushing as quickly as I’m sure you’d like.”

Letting out a breath, the pain of the headache getting to you, you ask, “why are you telling me this?”

Elias looks at you, not with anger, with disappointment, and that’s the thing that makes you feel almost ashamed with how you have been treating the prince as of late. “So you do not feel abandoned, your grace.”

Oh, right, it’s back with your grace, Elias’ own way of giving you a super polite cold shoulder. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Also, just as a precaution, the prince will want your doctor to look over your state, but I believe that it would be pertinent to have a so-called house call instead of going down to the clinic in person.”

“Probably, yeah.” The aching throbbing between your eyes has reduced your language usage down to the basics, and it takes you a hot minute to process anything anyone else says. Clementine had been missing for a moment, but she suddenly returns with a damp cloth she places over your eyes.

There’s a tense, but calm conversation, and as much as you’d like to try paying attention, you can only focus on the dull throbbing in the rear of your head. More talking. You curl up into a ball, the couch large enough so that your knees don’t hand off the back, and you try to dig your fingers into any pressure points of your skull in the hopes it might ease the tension.

Suddenly, a hand comes to rub the side of your arm. “Hey, princess,” Clementine whispers almost soothingly, “you’re going to wait for the doctor and spend the night here, okay?”

You mumble something in affirmation.

The doctor comes, you hear her voice and feel her prodding touches, but you don’t feel like you’re capable of even offering a meager greeting. There’s a pinch of something in the crook of your elbow, and the feelings cease, slowly. You don’t remember the point in which you fell asleep. Only that you wake up with Clementine conked out in the chair opposite of the furniture arrangement.

When you wake back up, it’s because your head feels like someone took an ax to your skull, it almost causes you to faint from the pain itself. All you can do is lay on the couch, arms wrapped around your head. It feels like every bone in your body is bruised or fractured, but your head takes the brunt of the pain.

Someone is talking again. You don’t have the ability to focus on them.

You’re not sure if you can fucking survive this, but gentle hands help you sit up, and there’s yet another sharp, pinching pain in your arm. After a moment, there’s a softness washing over you, like a manifestation of light and comfort flows through your veins and eases the suffering.

You’ve felt this way before.

When you open your eyes, the room is washed in a kaleidoscope of colors you hadn’t noticed until now, and you’re surrounded by a bunch of people that you know, you think you know, but your brain takes its sweet time putting names to faces. “Oh. Hello.”

The big one puts a hand on your head, running it down the side of your face. You don’t think you mind so much, but the smaller one is watching him with the eyes of a predator. “How are you feeling?”

“Very fucking high.” You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, just to make a noise.

“That’s completely normal, keias.” There’s a taller woman, her robes a pleasantly warm gray. “The drugs have overwhelmed her system, she will be more lucid in a few minutes.”

“Of course.” The big one turns to you again, and you look at his face. He’s… angular, alien, but beautiful nonetheless. You don’t think you’re afraid of him.

“What does that mean?” You ask, your lips heavy and difficult to move.

“What?” It’s the smaller one that speaks.

“That word they just said. Keias.” You think you know what it means, but you want them to explain it to make sure.

“It’s a royal title?” The big one stares at you, quizzically, as though trying to figure out a puzzle in front of him.

“A royal title?” You don’t think you’ve ever met actual royalty before, at least, you don’t think you have. There’s a lot you don’t remember about yourself. “Are you like a king?”

The smaller one snickers at this, then says, “babe, no. He’s a prince.”

“A prince?” You look at him again, your eyes wide. “You’re a prince?”

He doesn’t seem flattered, only oddly concerned. Turning to the female in robes, he says, “she didn’t possess memory loss when she was last dosed.”

“I gave her a different, faster-acting painkiller.” The woman taps on the screen of a datapad. “It works to block out different parts of the brain, but she is lucid enough to get on a starship, memories, or not.”

“So it’s not actually dulling the pain, it’s just telling the brain not to process it?” The smaller woman asks arms crossed over her chest.

“Exactly, which is why it’s fast-acting and doesn’t lose effectiveness over time. The memories can be a side effect, but they should return when the drug filters out of her system.”

“You say ‘starship,’” the prince!!! observes, his many eyes narrowing slightly.

“I did indeed, your grace.” The female is not intimidated. “I think it would be best if my patient spent some time in lower gravity conditions, which can be best produced in a starship while in space.”

The prince stares at her for just a moment, as though he cannot believe she would suggest such a thing. “Nisesh says a drug can be produced to aid in here acclimation.”

The female scoffs. “Nisesh believes they might become a god with enough drugs at their disposal. I mean no disrespect towards you, your grace, but sometimes the best cure is the most obvious one.”

The prince is quiet for a long, tense moment, but the doctor doesn’t back down. It’s the smaller woman who speaks up, her voice almost laced with an underlying threat, “if that’s what’s best for her, then you need to get it done.”

His eyes snap up, and he assesses the woman with a critical eye. Then he nods sharply, once. Turning back to the doctor, he says, “how long do you suggest she stay?”

The doctor taps something onto her datapad. “I would have preferred she acclimate slowly, spending a longer time in orbit than she has, but since her body managed to stay together so well, I think you might find an improvement pain-wise within a day. So long as her body bounces back quickly, mind, because it might take longer for her to recover.”

“You will join us, then, so you may monitor her condition.” It’s not a request, but an order.

“Of course, keias,” the doctor bows at him, then steps away, tapping on the datapad.

“I’m coming, too.” The way the smaller woman speaks leaves little room for arguments. There’s something almost… admirable, you think, about the way she stands up to the bigger one, even though he looks very capable of snapping her human body in half.

“That is… acceptable,” the prince says.

Without much thought, you reach over and touch the end of his hair nearest to where you sit, the strands soft and silky as you pull them closer. “Has anyone told you that you have really nice hair?”

He stares. After a moment that consists of the woman snickering quietly, he says, “actually, yes. Yes, I have.”

You must have blacked out again because when you wake up, you are not in Clementine’s room. In fact, you’re no longer on Lolth, because the sleek, brilliance of the space is nothing like the solid, ancient architecture that you had grown accustomed to. And just beyond the edge of the large bed you’ve been placed in is a window.

There are no windows on Lolth, really, because there is nothing to gaze at when a society grows from the inside of their world, instead of the outside. As you sit up, you notice the echoes of a headache pulsing in the back of your skull, where the spine connects, and it feels like you had a rough fall. But when you place your feet onto the thickly threaded rug and stand, you find that you do it with some semblance of ease.

“You’re awake.”

You almost jump out of your skin, because the prince is hiding so efficiently in the shadows of the room that you didn’t notice him until he spoke. “Y-yes.”

A moment of awkward silence follows. You’re still wearing the same clothes as you were giving Clementine the tour- oh fuck, Clementine-

“You were asleep for a day and a half.” His voice interrupts your hazy anxiety. “I was… concerned, but the doctor said your body was repairing itself.”

“I suppose so.” You wrinkle your forehead, realizing there is dryness choking your mouth, tongue something like sandpaper against the inside of your cheek. With little ceremony, you strip out of your outer shirt, your skin singing with no longer being suffocated by cloth, your camisole much more sheer and thin. “I need some water.”

The prince rises to a stand, “allow me. Please.”

You’re not sure what he means by that, but he opens one of the cabinets of what you’re now seeing is a starship cabin, then fills a glass to the brim with the tap. His movements are jerking, unfamiliar, as though he’s having his own issues with growing used to a different form of gravity. When he hands you the cup, you’re standing right by the window, staring out at the stars.

“God,” you say, after quietly thanking him, “I forgot how much I missed this view.”

“They are beautiful,” he says, “it’s difficult to believe that they are each suns of magnificent strength from this distance. They all seem so… small. Insignificant.”

There’s a moment of quiet contemplation as you down the whole glass of water with minimal effort, then you remember what you wanted to ask him before. Looking at his reflection instead of actually making eye contact, you question, “where’s Clementine?”

“In her own cabin, or perhaps roaming around.” He pauses, mulling something over in his head. “She is- has... character, isn’t she.”

“You’ve got that right, believe me.” You let out a sigh, vaguely remembering her wordless glares, her face fuzzy in the more recent ones. Then, just for the purpose of watching his face flush dark, you say, “she thinks we should just fuck and make up.”

“Is- is that how humans solve all their problems?” He asks, though you can see the question was a fight to release. There’s a tension in his shoulders when he talks about sex now, but thankfully, he is without the odd aversion he had before like he’s… like he’s trying.

Still, the way he says it… you burst out laughing. “Oh, if sex could solve all your problems, then-” you abruptly stop yourself, realizing that this might have been a step too far outside of his comfort zone.

There’s an awkward moment of silence shared as the both of you stare out into the void, then the prince turns around and stares at you, hard, and you feel a trickle of fear thrumming up your spine. Finally, he says, “don’t. Don’t do that.”

You swallow thickly. “Don’t do what?”

“Pull away.” He stares back out to the stars, sharply, all eyes narrowing. “You show me the smallest part of yourself, and then you refuse to give me anything more. I don’t like it when you do that.”

You’re quiet for another moment, then, “well… you didn’t really approve, before.”

“Didn’t… approve?” He echoes in the fashion of a question, glancing in your direction. “What do you mean?”

“You seemed uncomfortable when the subject of sex gets brought up.”

“Ah.” He leans back slightly, his facial features relaxing slightly. “I see.”

“So I stopped.”

“There’s more than that, though.” He turns back to face you, his expression softer. “It was worse when that abomination was present. You would hide parts of yourself from me, especially when it was here.”

“The- oh.” You remember the Starward Matchmaker™ representative’s oppressive presence, and how you walked on eggshells around her. “Right. Yes. The company doesn’t want me to fuck anything up.”

“A bit hypocritical of them, then,” the prince’s gaze goes back out towards the stars, “as their formula is supposedly infallible. If all parts of us are compatible with each other, then there should be no reason for you to keep some pieces of yourself hidden.”

You stop staring at his almost translucent reflection in the window and look at his face, his profile washed in the smattering of light easing in from billions of lightyears away. More to yourself than to him, you say, “I guess that’s true.”

“So you will stop trying to keep yourself from me?” He asks, firmly, looking over at you, too.

“I-” you swallow thickly, looking at the fingerprints you left on the otherwise flawless glass in your hands, “okay. Yes.”

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#exophilia #drider/reader #drider #male drider #monster lovers #monster/reader

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koreposion · 11 months

Text

Dream takes notice of Geno, finding his lack of devotion to be interesting. Loyalty is something mortals can give anyone, so is worship but it's empty and hollow with no power to back it up. Geno may think he knows what power is but he doesn't understand it.

With a yelp Geno shoots up in his spot or...it feels like he did. His body is still firmly planted on the sheets of his bed. His single eyelight looks up to find a yellow, golden pair. He feels his body shudder but he can't scream, he can't even tell if he made noise before.

Dream is smiling down at him as he struggles, "You toss and turn in your sleep, that's probably bad." He says sweetly as if Geno isn't paralyzed and panicking.

"Cross told me something, of course I noticed how you acted beforehand. I just didn't think it was this much of an issue." Confusion hits Geno's panicked mind as Dream has...a problem with him? He always thought they got along well, what did he do wrong?

A light joke that settles down Geno, the fact that Dream knows what's in is mind is... unsettling. Then again it makes sense seeing how convincing Dream is.

"We do get along well! We do..." Reading his thoughts Dream quickly comforts Geno, stroking his skull, "It's just that I don't think you understand the type of relationship we have. Which I get, your track record with Gods isn't the best."

"Yes, however I don't do as much convincing as I used to. I've learned that just seizing control is easier and makes the process quicker." He explains to Geno as he sits the skeleton up still not giving control back to his body, "Which is why I'm doing this actually! I know if I just tried to let you argue with me so I would convince you..it wouldn't turn out well. You might have ended up wanting to leave and that's not what I want."

To Geno that seems like Dream's personal problem but he's starting to realize that God's impose a lot on others. Finding himself being moved like a doll as he's put into a sitting position. Dream eyes bore into him, it burns his eyelight too look back.

"I never really used my power on you because I know if I tried while you didn't trust me you'd be more likely to resist. When you passed out it showed me that you wouldn't be able to handle that like Blue could." He explained as he pressed a finger to Geno's forehead, "Now, you won't resist as much and I don't have to kill you. Win win, you get the comfort of my love and I get to own you spiritually."

There was a flash of fear in Geno's mind before it was quieted by an invisible force, "It won't be bad of course, you'll love it and it'll be easier for you to connect with me."

It made sense in theory, but the impossibility of it was vast. No monster could possibly have that much control over someone else. Geno felt his mind fill with with honey and certain thoughts melt away. Dream isn't a monster, he remembered far too late.

He didn't even want to scream and fight. His mind and body felt warm and comforted. It reminded him of a soft embrace as he stared into Dream's golden eyes. They reminded him of honey, sticky, sweet and golden. He found himself adoring sweets...he should share with Dream more often.

Growing tired his mind thought things that were pointless, this always happened before he fell asleep. He should thank Dream for making sleep easier for him. There is no telling how he would have turned out without Dream. He's a savior and a saint, the kindest soul that he's known.

He was always gentle and understanding to Geno. To not repay that was unfair he deserved so much more than what Geno has been giving him. Luckily he would be forgiven, after all Dream would understand him being misguided. Other Gods just seemed too limited in their power and gave him the impression that all of them were the same.

This wasn't true, Geno should really catch up with his studies of multiverse history. His blankets felt soft and comfortable as he made plans for tomorrow. Cross would be happy to help him properly understand his role in helping Dream. He always did his work in the name of Nightmare and it wouldn't be hard to learn this for Dream.

The first moments from when he woke up frozen were forgotten and he fell back asleep. Honey being pulled from his mind, leaving him satisfied and safe.

#thoughts #headcannons #hypnosis #mind control #religious themes #dark media

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beauvibaby · 4 years

Text

go swimming? - j.benn

requested [] yes [x] no

a/n: idek what this is, but I love it bc it’s Jamie, enjoy (not proofread)

You pushed open the back door, eyebrows instantly shooting up when your co-worker gasped in relief at your presence. “Y/N, thank god, there’s a line out the front door.” Mark gasped, and you hoped out of sight line from your boss, knowing you were early and he would have you clock in right away, the downfall of being slightly above the regular hourly employees, a shift leader, really but the only difference is you wore a different shirt. “Y/N, clock in!” Your boss, Tom, called from the front line, already beginning to put an apron on and get in the kitchen, “good luck!” Mark called from his prep station, shooting you a smirk when you glanced back with a glare. You shoved your things into the office, silencing your phone and shoving it into your pocket, you clocked in, in record time before turning to the expo counter and gasping at the nearly twenty minute tickets that hadn’t even begun to be prepared. “Read it off, Y/N, come on!” Your boss snapped, you pushed the annoyance aside, knowing despite him being a manager of his own store for years, he didn’t handle stress well. You began rattling off orders, food being slide over to you left and right, you continued to quickly tray it up, turning around and placing it on the counter, shouting out the name on the order into the full dining room.

This went on for over an hour, the lunch rush continuing, but finally once it slowed down enough you went out into the dining room to help the other girls clean up. Garbage was overflowing, the soda machine was out of more than a few things, napkins were empty, ketchup spilt on the counters by children. You held in a sigh as you made your way around the dining room, plastering that work smile on your face, taking empty bins and trays from people’s tables, the only thing that made today even a little better was seeing some of the regular guests in there. You chatted with them for a while, laughing at something the older gentleman said to you, his wife chastising him for keeping you up. “It’s alright, we all need a good distraction sometimes.” You shot him a wink as you walked off, silently telling him thank you. He chuckled, going back to playfully bickering with his wife, you shook your head with a smile, hoping one day that you and Jamie would be that lucky. You made your way to the back, gasping as you and Mark rounded the corner at the same time, sending his freshly cut food flying to the floor and the dirty dishes you had in your hands smushed to the front of your shirt. “Oh, I’m sorry!” Mark rushed, scrambling to help you pick up the food and plates, “it’s fine, I’ll get it, go cut more food before-“ “Mark, I need those tomatoes!” Tom shouted, rushing to the back and freezing when he saw them on the floor. “Jesus Christ.” He snapped storming back to the front, “waiting on tomatoes.” Tom muttered to the assistant manager who was looking at him expectantly.

“Go, Mark, I’ll clean this up.” You assured him, carefully squatting to scoop up the mess. You walked over to the sink, putting the dishes into the water, gasping at how frigid it was, you scrambled to drain it and replace it with the hot soapy water. “Y/N!” Lola gasped running over to you, “code brown.” She snapped, watching as your face fell, code red meant corporate was here, code yellow meant the healthy inspector was here, but code brown, that meant they were both here. “Go, go, go!” You demanded, jumping into defensive mode, “change the Sanitizer buckets.” You demanded, knowing that would be the first thing they checked. You ran over to the prep kitchen, “code brown!” You snapped, everyone went into a panic, scrambling to make sure everything was purposefully to code. “Nose goes!” Mark shouted, his finger shooting to the tip of his nose, everyone followed suit before you could even process it. “Fuck.” You muttered, going to find Tom. “Health inspector, and corporate just pulled up.” You mumbled, and he froze, muttering under his breath, he turned to give you a list of things to check. “You need to change your shirt.” He snapped, only then did you realize it was covered in smeared sauce from the dishes, “and then the normal routine!” He called into the kitchen as you ran towards the back door, you nodded, thankful for your decision to keep an extra shirt in your car for work.

Once you scrambled to change in the bathroom. You came out and were greeted by even more of a disaster, the health inspector shaking his head at Tom, along with Tom’s boss from corporate, Adam. Tom shot you a look and instantly you knew you’d be getting an earful from him once they left. The labels in the walk in freezer had timed out, and that was one of the things on your list. You shot them a smile, playing coy as you rushed towards the dining room, at least going to make sure everything up there was maintained properly.

***

“Y/N, office now.” Tom snapped, storming into the office, paperwork from the health inspector in hand, everyone shot you a look as they knew you were going to get ripped to shreds, as if it’s your fault that his employees don’t follow the rules. “I did my best, ok? Keep that in mind.” You grumbled daringly when the door shut, “I know.” He snapped, “we barely passed!” He slapped the paper down in front of you. You picked it up, and looked at the inspection, you scoffed, “these are all your problems, these are all kitchen markings, the dining room and cash registers were good!” You exclaimed, placing the paper back down. He looked at you, eyes ablaze, “don’t talk to me like that, Y/N, you’re pushing your luck.” He demanded and it pushed you over the edge, “no, I don’t think I am, I’m overworked and underpaid, you treat me more like a manager than your actual managers! So unless you want to pay me what I deserve, I think I might have to start looking for another job.” You crossed your arms, staring him down. “So are you saying you want me to put an ad out for a shift leader?” He retorted, sitting on his chair, making you feel belittled even though you were still standing. “If you don’t want to give me a raise like you should’ve done when I started wearing this special shirt, then yes, you should put an ad out.” You demanded, grabbing your purse, “would you look at that, my shift is over.” You scoffed, opening the door, “Y/N!” Tom stuck his head out of the doorway. You froze as your time card printed out, glancing over your shoulder at him as he spoke, everyone’s eyes ongoing between the two of you. “Be prepared to train your replacement.” His voice had venom dripping from it, and Lola gasped, nearly dropping the food she had in her hands, Mark shot daggers into the back of Tom’s skull. Everyone was shocked, to say the least, you’d been through so much here, you’d been here since the restaurant opened, people in corporate knew you by your first name alone, they wanted to use you in nationwide training videos. “Fine.” You hissed, pulling your composure together long enough to calmly walk to your car, but the second you shut your car door, you lost it, the weight of what has just happened hitting you. You pulled your phone out, dialing Jamie’s number before pulling out of your parking spot. “Hi, baby, heading home now?” He answered cheerfully, oblivious to how your voice was about to come out as a cry. “Jamie?” You whispered, “I think I just quit.” Your voice broke, you heard him sigh softly, “it’s alright, Y/N, don’t cry, please.” He mumbled, “drive safe, please, I’ll be here waiting for you.” He added, knowing you couldn’t speak about it while driving, he knew you, and he knew that you’d be too emotional. “Ok.” You whimpered.

***

The front door opened the second you parked your car in the driveway, Jamie had a soft, comforting smile on his face, arms opening when you climbed out of the car. “Hey.” Jamie spoke, frowning when you pouted up at him, “I hated that job, why am I so emotional?” You questioned, suddenly feeling stupid for the way you were reacting, and feeling like this only showed Jamie more of your age gap. “Because, that’s been your only job, baby, you’ve been there for years.” He brushed your stray hair back, “just because your boss was a prick, doesn’t make it any easier to leave, you made friends there, they’re family to you.” He explained, making sure you absorbed his words, you looked up at him, eyes wide, slightly teary, but mostly just nodding along with him. “Yeah.” You mumbled, “Wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, pulling you in for a quick kiss, before guiding you inside, you went on to explain everything to him, watching the way he clenched his jaw a little tighter when he listened to you tell him about the way Tom treated you. He never liked him, the first time Jamie met you, not shockingly at your job, he walked in with Tyler and a freshly drafted Miro, they all gave an odd glance as you walked back to the cash register, your boss angrily going to work on the expo counter.

“Hi, my name is Y/N, I’ll be taking your order, what can I get started for you today?” You spoke the rehearsed line, looking up you met Jamie’s eyes first, and that’s all it took, you were a grinning fool the rest of the day, your co workers teasing you all day, making fun of the blush that had stayed on your cheeks. When you went over to grab the stuff from their table, you were more than shocked to have the cute guy, who’s name you had finally learned was Jamie, had left his number on a napkin, his hand writing sloppily saying “please make sure Y/N gets this”

“I’m sorry, but you know what this means?” He questioned, voice raising a bit in excitement, you looked up from your spot on the couch, your head lazily resting in his lap while you spoke, “what?” You questioned, confusion covering your face. “You get to stay home with me while you look for a job, a job that you’ll love.” He spoke happily, fingers tracing your jaw. “That’s true.” You pondered, you would have the ability to find a job you really loved, you had money saved, you and Jamie lived together, it would be nice. “There’s that smile.” He hummed happily, you hadn’t even realized you’d begun beaming until he spoke up. “Thank you.” You whispered, sitting up to kiss him, laughing against his lips when he held you there. He finally released you, helping you sit up properly. “You are the best thing that came out of that job.” You spoke with one hundred percent certainty, moving to straddle his lap, he grinned childishly at your words, brown eyes showing his happiness. “Really?” He questioned, “Jamie, of course.” You giggled, cupping his bearded jaw, “that hell hole gave me my forever.” You told him cheesily, watching as he processed your words, his head falling back in laughter.

“Way to ruin the moment.” You scoffed teasingly, climbing off of his lap, “no, baby!” He whined, reaching for you, “it was sweet.” He added, gasping in fake shock when you stepped out of his reach again, you loved the moments like this, when you both just forgot about life and just had these fun childlike moments. “You know you can’t outrun me, right?” Jamie raised his brows, seeing the way you kept glancing at the hallway out of the living room. “Doesn’t mean I won’t try.” You teased, setting your phone on the coffee table, as well as taking your belt off from work that was suffocating you. “Five second head start, because I’ve had a bad day.” You pouted down at him, tilting your head just the right way to make your hair fall over your shoulder, you knew it always killed him when you did that, and you could tell by the look in his eyes that his mind was already wandering elsewhere. “Five seconds, that’s it.” He mumbled, arms grabbing the back of your thighs, you leaned down and gave him a quick teasing kiss, “that’s not fair.” He groaned, chasing your lips when you pulled away. “Sorry, bub, I never said I played fair, and I happen to think you like it a bit more this way.” You smirked, stepping out of his hold. He pouted at you, looking absolutely ridiculous with a pout surrounded by his bushy beard. “Love you!” You shouted, laughing as you took off down the hall, hearing him counting down, you grinned as you heard his feet rushing up behind you. “No!” You shrieked, laughing hysterically when he grabbed you from behind, easily swinging you around as he swayed over to the bed.

“Told you.” He mumbled against your neck, chastely kissing you there, dropping you onto the bed, laughing when you gasped face falling into the mattress. He flipped you over, hovering over you, admiring the way your eyes shined as you looked up at him. “What?” You whispered, blushing under his gaze, “nothing, you’re just so cute.” He complimented, “and pretty, and smart, and funny.” He added, watching the way you sheepishly looked away. “Don’t hide from me.” He chastised, tilting you back by your chin. “Stop making me blush.” You whined, wrapping your arms around his neck, “never.” He grinned, allowing you to pull him down for a kiss. Before it could get too heated you pushed him off softly, “want to go swimming?” You asked, smiling softly, it was a scorcher out today, and the thought of getting into the pool and floating around with Jamie sounded relaxing. “Mhm, but doesn’t it sound better to stay up here, in bed.” He tried to persuade you, but you didn’t budge, “please, baby.” You mumbled, knowing he would give in from the way you were looking up at him. “Fine.” He grumbled, rolling off of you, watching as you stood up, tossing your shirt off over your head, “well that’s just rude.” He sat up in record time, smiling as you winked at him over your shoulder, mischief dancing in your eyes. You giggled to yourself, as you changed in the closet, not that it mattered, Jamie peeked his head in, smirking when you looked over as you slipped the straps of your bathing suit onto your shoulders. “You’re a perv.” You teased, approaching him, seeing he’d already slipped into his swim trunks, tattoos on full display.

“Only for you.” He winked, following you down the stairs, and out towards the pool. He immediately got into the water, splashing you teasingly as you walked in slowly, hair tied in a messy bun on the top of your head. “Sometime today, baby, you’re really testing my patience.” He groaned, floating around in the water as he watched you slowly sink into the water, your body covered by the black one piece, cut outs adorning your sides. “Aw, poor boy.” You quipped, swimming over to him, arms circling around his shoulders, his resting in your hips, “yeah, you should really take pity on me, my girlfriend is being a huge tease today.” He mumbled, hiding his face in your neck, leaving some sloppy kisses, “oh is she?” You mumbled, smirking against his shoulder as you rested your head against him, soaking up this one on one time, he squeezed your sides. “Doesn’t take much to get you going.” You commented, smiling when he laughed softly, floating around in the water, your legs wrapped around his waist. “How could it when I’ve got this beautiful girl hanging off of me?” He retorted, holding under your thighs, letting you lean back in his hold, “such a sweet talker.” You giggled, smiling wholeheartedly at him, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Not really.” He tilted his head, smiling at you, splashing some water onto your shoulders as they already started turning pink under the sun. “I like it.” You shrugged, knowing sometimes he wondered if he treated you the way you wanted to be treated. “Hey, don’t get all shy on me now.” You mumbled, catching his lips, “you’re my flirty man, but you know when I’m not in the mood, and you drop it, and you let me cry on you, and you go swimming with me even though I was just teasing you. You take me to your games, you give the best hugs, and you love my family as much as your own.” You rambled, stopping when a grin etched onto his face. “Alright, alright, I get it, I love you.” He murmured, kissing you softly again, but this time you let it progress. “I love you too, now let’s get out of this pool, you’ve been patient enough.” “Thank god.”

Taglist: @softstarkey @kempe @wtfkie @mtkachuk @literarycharleton

#Jamie benn #Jamie benn imagine #Jamie benn imagines #Jamie benn fic #Dallas stars #imagine #imagines #nhl writing

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heliosthegriffin · 3 years

Text

The Tarasque

On the night before the finals of the Vytal Festival, we find Jaune Arc. He leaned over the railing of the roof where he trained with Pyrrha, they hadn’t trained tonight, she needed to be in top shape for tomorrow.

Jaune didn’t though, and Jaune had come up to think dressed in his baby blue onesie. Smoking a cigarette in hand and breathing out the smoke into the clear night sky.

Taking a long drag of his cigarette, letting the warm smoke fill his longs, holding it till it lost it’s warmth and expelled it. He spoke out into the night sky, “I’m really going to miss this place again, aren’t I?” There was no one to hear him question.

In his unoccupied hand was his scroll, a message ready to be sent to a group chat. Jaune looked at the scroll his expression mixed, his finger hovering over the send button. One press would be what it takes to summon his friends, they’d deserve an explanation at the very least before he left. He still hesitated before pressing the button, then he signed. “It’s never going to be any easier, is it?” Silence was his answer.

Several minutes passed before Pyrrha showed up, her normal, fake, smile still up, something was bothering the girl. He knew what Orville the poor child to due, and it only added to the list of grievance he had with the man.

“Jaune? Why are you calling everybody?” Pyrrha asked, her face full of worry.

Her mind obviously wondering he could no longer take the guilt anymore, he’d nip that in the bud now.

“I’ll tell you when the rest get here. It’s more than what you think it is.”

The tone of his voice got her attention, but she nodded.

She had yet to notice the cigarette in his hand.

The rest came in the pair of Ren and Nora, and then the Team RWBY who came out in a dogpile on the roof. He snickered, he would indeed miss their antics.

The seven of them formed a semi-circle around him seeming to wonder what Jaune had to say. Jaune said nothing for a long second, taking one last long drag of the cigarette before exhaling.

That got Weiss’s attention, “Since when did you start such a repugnant habit, Arc?“ She asked with disgust.

Nora before Jaune could answer, “Oh, oh, oh, can you blow smoke rings Jauney, and hey wait, when you start smoking? I never smelled any on you before?”

That got a small murmur going through the group of teens, bring a smile to his face.

Yang broke the silence, “So, what’s up VB? Come to have us look at you model your onesie?” She said with a snicker.

A sad looking smile came to Jaune’s face, he let the bud drop to the roof where he ground it under his slippers.

“I’m leaving Beacon, tonight.”

Any words that were about to come out froze in the seven teens mouths, not one had been expecting him to say that.

A series of ‘Whats?!” ‘Why’ ‘Are you for real?’ and so on and so forth, it all blended together to white noise.

It hurt him see his friends look so pained and shocked, but he needed to do what he needed to do. They were weights.

He clapped his hands, infusing his hands and arms to strength them, and then further empowered the shockwave as it left the hands causing a explosion of noise.

They all jumped up in shock, but Ren’s eyes narrowed at him, clearly noticing the aura trick he did.

He smiled softly at him, then at all of them. “I just want to say, thank you, thank you all, you’ve made the last hellish nine months in this place actually pleasant.”

Blakes eyes narrowed at his choice of words.

“I have had more fun here in my time with you seven, than I have had in the last couple centuries.”

NPR and RWBY’s eyes shot open, and before their eyes Jaune disappeared.

“I suppose you’re all curious what that means, but, I don’t have time to explain it all to you, I’m on a schedule you see, and you’re better off not knowing too. You seven have too bright future together, to change the world, to be dragged down into a shadowy conflict. Focus on your life and goals, not the mysterys in the dark. It’s been a pleasure, Ruby, Weiss, Yang, Blake, Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren.”

Crocea Mors in hand, Jaune grabbed it by the sheath and handle pulling it with speed that not even the eyes of hunters in training could follow hitting Ruby in the back of the head before her aura went up.

Ruby hit the floor with a nary a sound, looking for the world like she just fainted.

Weiss and Yang stood to either side of Ruby, with Blake at the end of the semi circle next to Yang. Ren stood to Weiss’s side, Nora to Ren’s side, and Pyrrha at the other end of the circle.

Crocea Mors sheath didn’t stop moving after Ruby went down, Jaune turned the strike so the flat of the blade hit Weiss’s temple, eyes went wide and then rolled up into her skull, her aura failing to come up at speed to block the strike.

In all under a second Jaune had incapacitated Ruby and Weiss, in the next ten second the other fives fell to the ground knocked out, not a scratch on the boy, and in the next second Jaune let his expression fall, and suddenly Jaune didn’t look so young and weak anymore, his face going from soft to sharp looking, still young but closer to his mid-twenties than his late teens, but his eye’s held a weight and age to them that could not be measured. It was like looking at the difference between a puppy and a alpha beowolf.

Jaune looked tiredly at his former friends, and took out his scroll and hit another message to each of his former friends, a video personalized for each one, on how to improve their fighting style, semblance, and training, along with a personalized apology.

Then Jaune hit a app on his scroll, then any trace of Jaune Arc ever existing on paper was deleted, being replaced by John Ark who tragically died in a bullhead flight tonight.

The scroll was then broken like cheap plastic and tossed away. Jaune brought up a burner scroll, and called. “I’m ready, are the pieces in place?”

Ozpin’s voice could be heard on the other end. “Yes. Are you in position?”

“No, but I will be within five minutes, tell them to be ready sooner, if all goes as planned the infiltrators will be captured and brought to the vault in less than a half hour, if not, be ready to send them in to capture or kill them.”

“Roger, message sent, I will be waiting below.”

In a blur of speed the onesie was gone revealing briefly too things, a body that was covered in scars of all kinds, burns, pock marks, slashes, bruises, acid burns, a catalogue of wounds that if saw on a normal man would cause a doctor to question how they were alive.

The second was on Jaune’s back, a large Tattoo, one of a fearsome monster that stared off of Jaunes back.

In another Blur of speed Jaune was dressed in dark blues, and blacks, Crocea Mors at his side.

“Tonight the Tarasque hunts again.”

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Jaune stood outside of the dark hall way following the aura signature to a visiting students dorm, he could feel the Fall Maiden’s power inside. He was right on the money that it was the transfer student. She was far too old to be playing pretend... Or not old enough.

He sensed the Ace Ops patrols the outside and roof, Goodwitch down the hall, The Branwan skin-changed and waiting outside the window.

Jaune focused on the aura signatures in the room, four, all sleeping.

He took out a key and opened the door, and slipped in.

They never even noticed him stalking up to the fall maiden, and grabbing her by the throat, to her credit her eyes shot open immediately, but Jaune took the handle of Crocea Mors to her head.

Her aura blocked it, but she was clearly dazed, and could barely choke out a “H-help.” In a blur of speed and force he brought the handle to her temple again and again till her aura broke and her eyes rolled up, a dark bruise forming with a blood dripping down the side of her head.

He felt the movement behind him, and the attempt of an illusion to cloud his mind. He feigned falling for it, and let her sneak up with the blades. Just as the girl swung he backhanded her in the throat, she wasn’t expecting it and her aura wasn’t up, so she went out like light.

That’s two.

The half-legs and the woman-girl stirred. He took Crocea Mor’s to their heads, a trickle of blood all the proof he needed.

He went over to the window and opened it, letting the Branwen in.

He pointed at the half-legs and woman-girl, “Grab em’“

The Branwan knew better to argue with him.

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The elevator opened with a ding, showing Jaune and Qrow with two unconcious bodies over their shoulders.

“Is that the culprit?” Ozpin asked with a thin frown.

Jaune nodded.

“Good, put her in the machine.” “No, Orville. I got a better way to do this.” Jaune said.

Ozpin raised a eyebrow, and Qrow looked intrigued. “What’s that Jaune?”

“This,” Jaune said raising his hand, it briefly lighting up the room before dimming revealing a pearlesque white hand.

Ozpin took step back in fear and surprise. “You completed it?!”

Qrow looked nonplussed, and raised his eyebrows. “What exactly is this ‘it’?” He asked with air quote.

“The highest form of aura manipulation I’ve achieve,” He shot a look at Ozpin. “When you have centuries of time on your hands, you either get good at what you do, or make plans for the future... I know what I’ve chosen.”

Ozpin let out a huff. “Well one of us has to make sure the world doesn’t explode.”

“Whatever,” Jaune said with a smirk, and then plunged his pearly white hand into Cinder’s chest.

Cinder awoke with a blood-chilling scream, her hands going to her chest, but then her body started thrashing like she was having a seizure.

“Yeah, I imagine having your soul invaded and having a piece ripped out isn’t very fun is it, yeah, well guess what?” Jaune said to a terrified Cinder. “Turn about is fair play, Amber was a good friend of mine, and you’re gonna pay.”

- Several bloody hours later. -

Ozpin looked mildly disturbed, while Qrow vomited in the corner.

“Dust, dust that was horrifying.” “Yeah, but I got the Maiden powers.”

“Are you going to do the same to Amber?”

Jaune nodded darkly. “Yes, but I’ll be much gentler with her.” “That does inspire much confidence.” “Well, excuse me if soul surgery isn’t exactly a very well explored field!” Jaune said to Qrow, then shot a look at Ozpin. “It would be much farther along if somebody gave me those prisoners, instead of sending me to kill super-heavy class grimm.”

“I find the survival of frontier villages and cities a more pressing matter.” Jaune shrugs. “Fair.” He then walks over to Amber’s stasis pod, a glowing orange ball in Jaune’s pearly hand.

It open and Jaune rams the orb into her, Amber’s eyes jumping open in pain.

It takes several screaming hour before Jaune is done.

“Well, she might be fine now.” “Might be?” “Very poorly explored field.”

Qrow looks over to the three accomplices, who woke during the soul surgeries, now looking very terrified.

“What about them?” “What about them? Their your problem now, as far as I’m concerned the only thing that’s my problem now is Amber, you two chucklefuck deal with the brats.”

Ozpin looked at the two children and Neo, “Soooo, anybody want some coffee.”

Edit: Forgot the Author’s note that would explain somethings, I kinda lost passion towards the end.

AN: This an AU where around a thousand years ago Ozma decided to do a mass aura awakening to see if it would bare fruit. Jaune seemed like he didn’t have semblance after couple years of training. But, come 80 years later, Ozma hears rumors of a lmmortal blonde... Jaune’s semblance is eternal youth.

#Jaune Arc #Team JNPR #Team RWBY #Team CMEN #Ozpin #Qrow Branwen

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

Disappear Here - 1/4

A/N: So, I’ve decided to turn this into a little series because I have no sense of brevity, and why not? So here’s part 1, which I hope you enjoy! As always, feedback is welcome! xx

Based on this blurb

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: language

MASTERLIST

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

ALTERNATIVE ENDING

SEQUEL

»»————-　♡　————-««

One Year Ago

You felt your eyes growing heavy as you tried to follow along to the late night rerun of a telenovela that was currently playing on one of the local channels. It was the only thing that was illuminating the small living room, everything else was bathed in darkness, much like your heart at the moment. You’d been sitting there for some time, ever since you’d gotten home from the embassy, in a vain attempt to keep your mind occupied. If you tried to focus all your energy into trying to keep up with the rapid Spanish, maybe no dark thoughts would impede the light buzz that was flowing through your veins .

The empty wine bottle on the coffee table was supposed to help aid in your plan to chase away all the negative thoughts there were creeping in at the idea of Javier still being gone. He was supposed to be back today, supposed to be back in the office along with Steve, but neither of them had returned. It had been nothing but radio silence from their end.

Instead, you’d spent the day performing all sorts of menial tasks around the office, waiting for either of your partners to bursting in through the door and announcing their triumphant return.

But it never came.

Instead you were only met with silence, the only sounds that met your ears were those of people passing by in the hallway and someone occasionally popping their head in to say hello. Your face lit up every time, thinking maybe you’d get a glimpse of Peña’s smirk or Murphy’s soft smile; instead it was just another coworker whose name you didn’t know, or care to know.

By midday, you’d gotten the entire shared office space clean and organized, going so far as to even clean the dingy windows, and caught up on paperwork that you’d been avoiding for weeks.

But even after all that, you still had time to spare.

When you couldn’t take the deafening silence any longer, you stormed out of the much too quiet office and stormed into Ambassador’s Noonan’s office, not even bothering to knock, only throwing the door open as you walked to the front of her desk. She barely lifted her eyes from the papers splayed across her desk as you stood in front her, your arms crossed definitely over your chest.

“Agent L/N,” it was almost mocking, cold, and you could see she really wasn’t too keen on listening to any problem that you were about to present her with. There were days when you hated her, wishing you could jump over the desk dividing you and wringing sense into her; other days you were glad that she was around, knowing that no matter how harsh and stern she was, she had your backs...more or less.

“Murphy and Peña aren’t back yet,” you didn’t bother to waste time with formalities, deciding to lay the facts on her instead, “they were supposed to be back in the office today. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of them.”

“I’m well aware that they were supposed to be back,” she flicked her eyes up to meet yours for a moment before turning back to her papers, “and just what is the issue?”

“They’re missing!”

“No one is considered missing for at least forty-eight hours,” she explained as you openly groaned. You knew that. But they weren’t just any sort of civilians, they were DEA agents, and more importantly, your partners, your friends, “and they technically still have several hours left in the work day to return before the clock starts ticking.”

“You don’t understand -”

“No, you don’t understand, L/N,” she barked and slammed the papers down on her desk, causing you to jump back in surprise, “this is how things work sometimes. This is a dangerous field, there are risks involved and sometimes you just have to accept that. You have to be all in to do this job, and I expect that even a rookie such as yourself understands that.”

“I-...”

“I get you want to do the right thing and you’re concerned with the welfare of your partners, but you have to learn to get over these types of things,” you were rendered speechless, taking a step back at her harsh words. You knew this was a dangerous job, that going after Escobar was an almost certain deathwish, but you had still agreed to do it, and you still wanted to hold onto some sense of humanity, not just be a cold shell that went through the motions every day. Maybe that was the rookie part of you after all, “perhaps you’d do well to remember that Murphy and Peña are just your partners. Especially Peña; I am not immune to the rumors and follies that float around in this office. And if you can’t remember that, maybe you’d best start looking for another job.”

“With all due respect, Ambassador-”

“This conversation is over,” she didn’t bother to spare a final glance before gathering her papers back together, “come back and see me in a few days if they still aren’t back, and then we’ll take the next steps. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” you struggled to hold back your tears, feeling them prick at the back of your eyes as you rushed out of her office. You knew she was right, at least to a certain extent, but it didn’t make your current predicament any easier.

At this point you were sure that you couldn’t handle staying in the office any longer, so you grabbed your stuff and headed home, stopping by a corner market to pick up cheap wine to keep you company for the evening. It was better than being stuck all alone with only your thoughts after all; having flashes of Pena and Murphy somehow getting killed was starting to drive you crazy.

But despite your best efforts, nothing held your attention for long, which was precisely why you had resorted to watching programs in Spanish, trying your best to follow along with what they were saying. Spanish wasn’t your strong suit, you’d grasped the basics and then some, all the slang and curses of course (the latter part mostly thanks to Javier), and could hold a conversation well enough, but it was nothing compared to Javier’s natural fluency. Even if you looked like you might somehow actually belong in Columbia, your accent and lack of comprehension gave you away every time, as you stared at the person with your big wide doe eyes (that little comment was courtesy of Murphy). Javier enjoyed teasing you about it every time. You didn’t mind.

You sighed to yourself as you realized that you might never see him again. Your last interaction with him had hardly been a proper goodbye

“I can’t believe you told that witch to keep me away from this,” you glared at Javier as he started to gather supplies, Murphy closely following behind him. When he didn’t respond, you just shoved his chest, which quickly got his attention. He easily captured your wrists in his large hands and gave you a stern look, “you’re an asshole, Javi. Even Carrillo thinks I can handle myself just find out in the field.”

“I don’t give a shit what Carrillo thinks,” his voice was low, signaling the end of conversation as he released you from his strong grip. You looked over at Murphy, who was busy intently pretending not to be listening to your exchange. He was going to be of no help to you.

“Well I do,” you were just trying to get a rouse out of him; if he wasn’t going to let you come, you might as well annoy him, “Carrillo is a better everything than you could ever wish to be.”

“You think so, huh?” you’d gotten under skin, you could immediately tell by the way the muscles in his shoulders tensed, and the almost growl he adopted. You put your hands on your hips, eyebrow raised as you just nodded at him, “listen here, kid. This is dangerous. You think you know what to expect out there, you think you know what’s it like out there? You haven’t even seen a dead body, have you? You really think you could go out there and handle that?”

“This is my job-”

“You’re still green,” he insisted, “and this is not the time or place for you to suddenly decide to be the hero. I’m trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” you insisted, the way his voice had softened with his last words not lost on you, “I can handle myself.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he sighed heavily as he exchanged a look with Murphy, “you’re staying here and that is final. And if I hear even the slightest hint of you trying to weasel your way in from anyone else, I’ll have your ass on the first flight back to the States.”

“I’m insufferable?” you threw up your hands in exasperation at him. He was so thick skulled and stubborn sometimes, it drove you up the wall, “what about you, old man? Scared of what will happen if I get there and make you look bad?”

“I have it had it up to here-”

“Will the two of you just shut up already?” Murphy had finally had enough of the two bickering back and forth. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence by any means, no, the two of you were constantly up in arms. Sometimes it was over the who made the better shitty office coffee, his incessant chain smoking, your habit of wearing high heels, his use of informants. Everything. But the two of you were starting to get on his last nerve, which said enough considering that Murphy was a patient man.

“Steve-”

“Just stop arguing and fuck already,” he said and you immediately felt all the blood in your body flow to your face, sure you were just as flushed as you as deep red tomato. You didn’t dare look at Javier for fear of the expression on his face, “or do whatever you need to in order to stop getting at each other’s throats all the time. You’re worse than children.”

“Well, you’re both the worst,” it was the only thing retort you could come with after his little outburst. You kept your back turned to Javier as you stormed out of the storage locks without another word, “have fun or whatever. Don’t get shot, I guess.”

You cringed slightly at the memory, wishing it had gone slightly smoother than that. You seriously hoped that wasn’t the last interaction you’d have with either of them, especially Javier. You didn’t know what you would do if that was the last time you’d gotten to see him.

But you pushed the memories to the back of your mind as you felt the sweet lull of slumber finally start to win over, a loud, booming knock came at your door causing you to jump and almost fall off of the couch. You sighed heavily before collecting yourself and pausing to glance at the clock on the wall. It was nearing two in the morning - no one in their right mind should have been at your door. Your first thought was that it was someone coming after you, someone that had decided they had a vendetta against you, coming to make you pay for your sins.

Instinctively, you moved to the kitchen and grabbed your gun, holding it in front of you as you headed towards the door, alarmed by another loud knock. Putting your hand on the knob, you swallowed the lump that had worked its way into your throat. You were suddenly wide awake as the adrenaline rushed through your veins. After mentally counting to five, you yanked the door open, gun cocked and aimed at whoever had decided to come after you, ready to pull the trigger and stand your ground. Maybe you were green, but you were confident in the fact that you could hold your own if you suddenly had to.

Instead of an enemy, you found yourself face to face with none other than Javier Peña.

“Javi,” his nickname rolled off your lips in a quiet whisper as you met his warm brown eyes, your own already stinging and on the verge of spilling over with tears. You felt like you could breathe again, waves of relief crashing down on you as you realized he was alive. But at a price. He looked tired, very tired, and worn out, his hair a mess and his clothes looking in need of a wash, much like the rest of his sweaty body. But he was alive, and that was the operative fact, and the only fact you cared about in that moment.

“Were you going to shoot me, kid?” he asked, his deep velvety voice reached your ears and causing your stomach to flutter slightly. He looked between you and your still outstretched hand before grabbing the gun, removing the cartridge of bullets, and tossing it to the side where it clanged to the ground with a loud metallic clang. He studied you silently, almost in a challenging way, trying to see which one of you would break down first. He was the one that had showed up on your doorstep after all.

But it wasn’t going to be you because you weren’t able to find any words. Instead you were frozen in time, your body humming with content as you realized that all of your worry had been for nothing. He was okay, he was alive, and he was currently mere inches away from you; you could feel his body heat radiating onto yours, his natural musk invading every bit of your senses.

You had missed him more than you thought, for reasons that were known to you, but you would never speak out loud. You didn’t want to hear the words ever come out of your mouth because that would mean that they were true, that your feelings for Javi were more than just those of friends and partners. That your feelings were those that made it seem like he was the reason for all the glittering stars in the night sky, that he was your morning sunshine after a dark night of rain.

But Javier didn’t need you to say anything.

It all happened fast; so fast that you didn’t even have a chance to process what was going on before he put his hands on either side of your face and crashing his lips onto yours. It was needy, fast, bruising, and everything you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for. After reality hit you like a train, you responded by throwing your arms around his neck, carding a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck as his rough hands found your waist, his fingers quickly finding their way under the hem of your shirt and brushing along the soft skin.

It was hard and fast, the two of you expressing your desires without the use of words, only pulling apart when you needed a breath of air. You looked up at him and found him staring back at you, his eyes expressing an emotion you couldn’t quite place. It was intense, frightening, and most of all hungry. He was the hunter and you were his prey.

“Y/N,” Javi’s voice was barely above a whisper as he kissed you a few more times, eventually finding your jaw and working his way down your neck. It took everything in your power not to moan out loud at his touch, at the feel of his lips on your delicate flesh, and you bit your lip as you kept your arms around his neck. But before you could let it go any further, something snapped inside you and you came to your senses and put your hands on his chest, a silent plea for him to stop. As much as you wanted him to continue, to somehow have it end up in your bedroom, with you under him as he gave you what you had been desperately wanting, you knew you shouldn’t. He was your partner, your friend, and on top of all of that, he was older and he had a reputation.

It was a reputation he had earned for a reason, and that was enough for you to stop whatever might transpire before it got any further.

“Javi,” you said as he pulled back from you, looking at you with concern written all over his face. You shook your head and took a step back from him, already saddened by the loss of his body against yours, “we...we shouldn’t do this. We can’t do this.”

You pointed between your bodies, biting your lip in a way that drove him crazy, not that he would ever admit that, and sighed. Sometimes your rationalism got the best of you, and you wished you could just throw it out the window. How you wished you could just have him then and there, to feel him all over your body.

“Why?” he asked quietly as he put a hand on your cheek before ghosting his fingers over the contours of your face, and he wondered, momentarily, why he’d waited so long to touch your soft skin. Part if you wished you had let him continue, but the rational part of your brain told you that you’d done the right thing, “I thought...we...that there was something there? Between us.”

“We can’t,” you just repeated softly, “we’re friends...partners...this can only end in two ways, and neither of them are good.”

“Give me a good reason. Just one good reason,” he insisted and you knew he had a valid point, but you also both knew what you were trying to say, “tell me you don’t want this. Tell me I’ve been wrong in thinking that there was something between us this whole time. Tell me I’m wrong. And if you don’t want this, it stops here and I’ll walk away.

You looked at him silently for a few moments, his eyes pleading with yours, rendering you unable to form a coherent thought; you wanted to tell him that he was right, but all you could see was looming heartbreak on the horizon, and you weren’t about to willingly put yourself through torture for nothing. Not with him or anyone else.

Every other relationship you had had blown up into a million pieces in front of your very eyes. You weren’t able to subject yourself to that again, no matter how much you longed for him, no matter how many nights you spent alone in bed, thinking of him, wishing he was there with you. You finally, painstakingly, met his eyes, giving him a small grimace before shrugging your shoulders, “I...I don’t want this.”

A lie. A bold lie you both could easily see through.

“Okay,” he took a step back, shaking his head at you as he tried to keep himself in check. He wanted to yell, to scream, to cry, something - anything. But instead, he moved silently towards the door, stepping through it without so much as another look at you, slamming it shut behind him. You winced slightly at the loud sound before slumping back down onto the couch. You gave the wine bottle a pathetic look, wishing you had more so you could block the events that had just transpired.

Either you had just made the wisest decision of all, or you had possibly made the biggest mistake.

It was a fine line between the two.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier pena x you #narcos #narcos fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #disappear here series #steve murphy

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poptod · 3 years

Text

The Game (Baxter x Reader)

Description: You’re either a weirdo or a psychopath. Or both.

Notes: so this is um. kind of weird. but i guess thats kind of my thing at this point WC: 1.7k

"Didn't think this was how it'd go, did'ja?"

"I would really like it if you took these handcuffs off."

"Why? Cause they're yours?"

You stepped closer to his chair, dragging your gaze over every knot you tied around his body. The rope around his ankles and chest, the metal handcuffs behind the back, the gag unceremoniously hung round his neck ever since he wrestled it off.

"Does that bother you?" You asked as you bent in front of him, a wide, toothy grin spreading across your lips. "Being tied up by your own tools?"

"Shut. The fuck. Up," he hissed out beneath his breath, staring straight forward with a glare that could kill. As usual he completely avoided your own eyes.

"Aww, tiny cop is a little testy today, isn't he?"

Shooting up from your position on the floor, you wandered into a darker corner of the room, where the fluorescent light shining over Baxter couldn't quite reach. There you kept your bookcase stocked full of a variety of your tools. Mostly books, but several of the shelves held cases for knives and bug specimens, two of the most beautiful things you imagined one could have. The white light reflected off the glass case and into the detective's eyes.

"I think you need to calm down," you said as you dug into one of the bookcase drawers, feeling around for a lighter and cigarette. "You smoke, right?"

He remained quiet, that glare still piercing the wall in front of him.

"Doesn't matter. I've seen you smoke. I watch you a lot, you know," you spoke through the cig, clicking on the lighter in your hands before a flame burst.

The steps you took towards him were small, calculated, and gentle with your tapping shoes on the cement floor. This room didn't have the best sound quality, and every little noise was magnified by the stone walls. The minimum amount of furniture had made way for the same echo.

"You're very interesting to watch. You're the only cop that's actually interesting. Did you know that?"

With how low his seat was on the ground his face was right in front of your hips, and you spared him no mercy. Instead you stepped even closer, till he was forced to lean back with uneven breath, ire lacing his stare that had nowhere else to rest but you now.

"I've met a lot of cops in a lot of different countries," you admitted thoughtlessly, taking a long drag from your cigarette. "But you're fun. And so fuckin' pretty."

You knelt once more, this time nearly sat between his legs, and blew smoke into his face. His nose scrunched up as his eyes shut, annoyance clear on his pursed lips.

"What the hell do you want from me?" He said in a low, quiet voice that you had already come to know quite well. The moment you recognized it another smile spread across your face, big and unsettlingly happy.

"A good time, hopefully," you said, raising your hand to his face. At first he flinched, twitching away from you, but your need was relentless. Your palm landed on his cheek, allowing you to stroke the small cut along his cheekbone.

When at last he raised his eye to meet yours, the first thing you noted was fear. Fear permeates every emotion––it raises itself above all else, tells on itself before any other emotion can. There were other things beneath that, of course; anger, contempt, the usual when someone is forcefully tied to a chair in the middle of a nondescript room with no windows.

"Don't worry," you chirped. "I won't hurt you. Much. I just... I have these cravings."

Before turning back to your bookcase, you took another slow drag from your cig, watching the end burn till it nearly touched your lips. The smoke you blew out was half in his face and half not, though by his expression it might as well have been all of it.

You reached into your pocket, pulling out the key to one of your glass cases. It wasn't a terribly secure location for the contents, but that little bit of danger was always thrilling––never knowing if your prey will manage to reach those knives.

Your largest was closer to a sword than a dagger, and though it did its' job of intimidation, the easier tool was the small silver knife engraved with cuneiform. The most painful was the jagged-toothed blade, who tore at skin instead of slicing it. That was for another time.

With the silver knife in hand you turned back around, a knowing smirk on your face as you once more approached the detective.

"Jim Baxter. James. Jimmy-boy. How ya feeling? Good?"

No reaction from him. Perfect.

"You want to know something? Little tid-bit of information. Little fun fact about me," you said with a sigh as you knelt. "I don't like your line of work. Not just because you guys are always tryin' to bust my ass and ruin the fun, but I don't like the government in general. The perfect society is an anarchal society. It's probably too much to ask what your leaning on this is, right? I think I know anyway."

You fiddled with the knife in your hands, toying with the handle and picking at the blade.

"White-picket fence boy," you added.

"The hell does that mean?"

"You know exactly what it means. It's just––I think it's a little funny. All around you're such a law-abiding person, so nice, so plain, and you've got all this flavor on your face."

By the way his eyes widened, you could tell what came to his mind. It was what came to most people's minds when you tried to explain the essence of flavor in human personality; cannibalism.

"I'm not going to eat you," you clarified, chuckling when his breathing returned to normal. "I could, though. I have no qualms against it. Peel off the skin of your face, fillet that shit... probably taste like chips."

"Why are you doing this? What – what even are you doing?" He finally asked, succumbing to the confusion and curiosity that had plagued him ever since he woke up here.

"Intimidation. Kidnapping. Those are still illegal, right?"

"Yes."

"Right. Well, anyway, those are just some crimes that I by no means on purpose committed. It was just the only way to get what I really want," you said as the tip of your knife pressed into his clothed knee, running down the fabric and leaving a small scratch mark in his pant leg. He jerked away, but you only pressed harder, keeping him in place with a tight hand around his ankle.

"Don't be shy now," you grinned.

"You think you're hot shit –"

"I am."

"– but I'll find you, and –"

"It seems to me you already have."

"Would you shut the fuck up?!"

"Sorry. Go on."

"I'm gonna put you in jail, where creeps like you belong," he said through gritted teeth, his jaw set as he met your awaiting eyes.

"You think I'm a creep? I'm the most sane out of all my friends. Though, I do suppose we live in two different worlds," you said with a shrug.

His type lived in the light. Sunny-day type people, warm homes to come to at the end of the day, dark green grass and clean highways. Yours is more in the style of broken down street lamps––burning rubber from car wheels and the warmth of a lighter. At least that's the way you liked to put it, romanticized into the sweetest fashion so it's easier to swallow.

Honestly, most of your friends are coke dealers. There's one that sells guns to minors, but he's not a friend of yours. Just someone you know. All of them are good people, you can't deny that, but it's not a gentle environment.

Not that you're any bit unlike them. You do, after all, kidnap people and taunt them for fun.

"Alright. Question for you. Ever had sex?"

Nothing. You giggled, crossing your arms on his knees.

"Ever kissed someone? You don't seem like the person who would like any of that stuff. I'll still be surprised if you haven't, though. The idea that no one tried to jump your bones? Yeesh. I don’t think that's possible," you rambled on, making a few vague hand gestures as his glare never faded.

The surly twist in his face reached a high point, ending with him spitting onto your face with a deep irritation in his expression. It took a second or two before you quite processed what had just happened, but when you did you had no hesitation in your response; licking the flat of your tongue up from his jaw to his temple.

"You like that? Into that kinda thing?" You asked in a booming laugh as he spluttered, desperately trying to worm away from you. "That was on you, buddy. Come on. Admit it."

"I'm not going to –"

"Come on, say it! You deserved that. Right?"

You grabbed his chin in a tight grip, forcing him to look at you.

"You get everything that's coming to you. You deserve everything you'll receive within the next... hmm, let's say, three months? Depends on when I get bored of you," you hummed, glancing to the side as you thought.

"The next three months? What are you gonna do in that time?" He asked almost softly, brow furrowed in the same consternation as his eyes.

"Have a little bit of fun, for once. I hope you prove to be more entertaining than the last girl," you said with a grunt, pushing yourself to your feet. "In the meantime... you can't be missing for too long, baby."

"Wh –"

With the butt of your dagger in hand, you whirled back around, hitting him right in his temple. The hit of the massive gem on his skull knocked him out, muscles untensing as he fell limp in his restraints.

You smiled and breathed a sigh of happy relief, as though you had finished swimming in the brisk water of a lake.

"Ah... he seems nice."

Thirty minutes and he's waking up, waves of pain throbbing from his cranium. He hissed as he tried to sit up, realizing with much comfort that he was back in the linen sheets of his bed, the comforter all tangled and mussed beneath him. By the look of the clock, it was the morning of his first shift of the week.

And the first thing he has to tell his boss is that there's another psycho on the loose.

#detective baxter x reader #detective baxter #the little things #rami malek #rami malek character

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ironxkid · 3 years

Note

why don't you like endgame or civil war

((hoo buddy, idk what brought this up but salt under the cut!! Like... a lot of salt - specifically regarding Endgame lmao

I’m gonna start off with CACW because it’s a short response lol

I don’t like it simply because I was done with the infighting between the Avengers. The found family crumbs we were given in Endgame was something I really wanted to see, and them just... ripping them apart frustrated me lol

honestly, the movie was... fine? Idk, I found it to be a lil slow for my taste (it felt like it just dragged on when I watched it in theaters), and I just don’t care for it in general ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Also, ngl, I’m really bummed that Captain America: Serpent Society was a joke announcement because that sounds dope as hell and I really wanted to see that before I realized it’d been a joke dfgjhdsfhj

but, yeah, literally just because CACW is specifically an infighting movie annoys me to no end so I just won’t watch it again dgsfjhsfdhj

now, Endgame?

fuck Endgame

I. have a lot of issues with it, all of which are major grievances throughout the fandom. I’m pissed they killed Natasha and didn’t even bother giving her a fucking funeral because, I quote from Joe Russo, “Well, Tony does not have another movie. Tony is done. And Natasha has another film. And Marvel Universe obviously does not have to move forward linearly anymore. But that character still has more screen time coming.” (see here) and that annoys the hell out of me. She’s getting another movie - great! So you killed one of the few characters doing her fucking best to keep everything together at the compound, the one who was taking charge, give her a big role, and then murk her and... give her nothing but a brief mention at the end. Like... what the fuck? Natasha deserved so much better than what she was given. Tony’s funeral could’ve (and, frankly, should’ve) been a funeral for him, Natasha, and Vision because god forbid we see anyone mourn Vision other than Wanda

(actually this post covers how Endgame fucked over the MCU women perfectly, though Wanda’s not mentioned :c )

plus... Tony’s not done lol - he’s still a massive figure in the films/shows despite RDJ not acting in them, so his character has left shockwaves that aren’t dying any time soon. Natasha... basically disappeared, and I believe she would’ve been dropped completely if it wasn’t for the fact she does have a film coming out soon. Which, frankly, seems awesome and all, but it’s a film that goes back to post-CACW pre-IW and... frankly doesn’t give me any reason to understand why that means she didn’t get a funeral. She’s not coming back in future movies/shows that are in present MCU timeline - her movie is set in the past. She could’ve gotten a decent sendoff

now, Clint’s arc as Ronin rubs me the wrong way. I know it’s a huge thing in the comics, and it’s not him taking a different mantle that I have an issue with. It’s the fact he, a white man, went around murdering people and got off scot-free. Yes, he was targeting genuinely bad people, but... to show that, they specifically singled out Mexican cartels and the yakuza (Japanese mafia, essentially) - so, in other words, the bad guys were people of color! I feel like I don’t need to explain how fucked up that is. And, to clarify, I love Clint! Clint is honestly one of my favorite characters, and the whole thing was just handled... poorly in the film

Tony’s arc genuinely hurts. This is a man who has suffered for years and has tried to make things right, and finally got a chance to settle down. He finally retired from the Avengers, finally settled down, and had a fucking life he could enjoy despite his ghosts, and yet... His arc ends with a message of “tortured soul finally gets rest by dying”. Because, y’know, it’s great seeing yet another long-suffering character only reaching peace through death, because god forbid they let characters heal! He could’ve still caused the second Snap, and he could’ve survived. He could’ve finally been able to step away for good and focus on his family, focus on recovering, and be truly happy. What’s so wrong with letting him stay alive so he can rest and be with his family? What’s so wrong with letting a long-suffering character finally find peace after one last bang?

plus it pisses me off that they’re now using him as a reasoning as to why bad things are still happening. Why is this person the bad guy? Because Tony Stark somehow may or may not have done something that hurt them! Even though most of that really stems from Howard or Obadiah. Tony just ends up getting the blame in their place. He’s just an easy target to use, much like the tesseract seems to be the go-to answer for why things go wrong. But this is a different train of thought

Steve’s ending pisses me off just as much as the next person lmao. You take a character who has acknowledged he no longer belongs in the past (which, funnily enough, was written by the Russos), aaaaaaand have him go back to the past while ignoring two important people in his life that were still right there. He got Bucky and Sam back, and he leaves them. His arc is ruined within a matter of minutes, and it paints a hella bad picture of him in the process. He goes back in time to stay with Peggy (which ultimately destroys her own arc, and the fact she’s a person outside of her relationship (or lack thereof) with him because, y’know, why have her be able to move on and be her own person?), and we’re supposed to believe he’s fine with everything he knows from the future? Fine with knowing Bucky’s trapped with HYDRA and is suffering as the Winter Soldier? Fine with knowing HYDRA has infested SHIELD from day one? Fine with knowing Howard and Maria are going to die? Fine with royally fucking up the timelines? We’re supposed to believe he sat back and did nothing with all of that? They could’ve had him still hand the shield over to Sam - they could’ve let Steve stay an Avenger without the mantle

also the fact the Russos said he didn’t recognize Red Skull when he returned to Vormir to return the soul stone? Like... what the fuck?? Not to mention he literally returns the stone to Vormir, which “soul for a soul”, and they didn’t bring Nat back that way??

and now onto Thor. Thor... holy fuck is this hitting something personal for me. Thor was ridden with guilt - he was furious with himself, hated himself, and blamed himself for failing to stop the Snap. He fell into a massive depression, and... was promptly danced around as laughing stock. Like, “oh! look at Thor! he’s fat and drunk because he’s depressed haha!” - like fuck off. It’s not funny in any form. His suffering was made into a joke and it pisses me off because I suffer from depression. A lot of people suffer from depression. It’s not funny. It’s fucking terrifying at times. I wasted a shit ton of money on a stupid online sim game because it was a distraction - it gave me... god, I wouldn’t even say temporary happiness, but it gave me something to temporarily help, and I still hate myself for doing it. It was a poor decision on my part, and I wish I could change it. And, during that time, I was scared because I couldn’t see myself pulling out of it. I thought I was gonna feel that way forever. I called out of work multiple times because there were days I couldn’t stop crying (something I still feel horrible for doing), I couldn’t get myself to contact any of my friends for months, and it was all because the medication I was on at the time... stopped working. Thankfully, my depression doesn’t work in a way that makes me a danger to myself, so that wasn’t an issue, but it still fucking sucked. And to see a character that I could relate to on such a personal level treated as laughing stock fucking hurt. I’m not sharing this for sympathy - I’m sharing this because it Thor’s arc hit home and it’s literally the main reason why I will not watch Endgame again

this is more of a nitpick than anything else, but... I didn’t really care for Carol in it tbh? Which is unfortunately because Captain Marvel is one of my absolute favorite movies! And I’m well aware she was introduced in Endgame while CM was being drafted, but that in itself is annoying?? Because Carol was originally going to be introduced in AoU, but was cut because it wasn’t going to introduce her character properly. And yet they decide to introduce her character in a clusterfuck of a movie before her movie is in the final stages, and proceed to release her movie first and then give a complete different characterization in her following appearance

honestly I just wanna cover this now to clarify some things regarding Carter and her backstory: the only reason I keep Endgame as is is because it felt easier for me to do so for the purpose of bending canon for specific threads. I wanted to stay as true to the given plots as possible to help with fudging of both the movies and her background, and also because I didn’t want anyone to feel like I was trying to force my own headcanons onto them, y’know?

I’m just gonna plug this here because fuck it lol, but I did start a fix-it fic regarding Endgame that you can read here! I... probably won’t finish it tbh, and I haven’t gone over it in a hot minute so it might be riddled with errors ahah - plus I’m not sure about how I wrote the characters! I get nervous when writing canon characters because I feel like I’ll miss their characterization completely, which is actually why I,,, rarely rp canon characters dgfjhgsfdhj

also the image in the doc was created by @/archervale!!

#ooc #((I think I covered what I wanted and I hope it makes sense dgjhdfh #I'm pretty tired but I'm doing laundry so I figured I'd answer this while I wait #but yeah I don't care for CACW and I honest to god hate Endgame #the potential is there and it just never reached it))#((I'm not even gonna touch the Russos directing style #'hey guys we're gonna film a wedding sIKE IT'S A FUNERAL'#like?? MAJORLY different event fellas #also I'm literally going off what I remember from Endgame so I'm sure there's QUITE a bit I'm missing #but I'm not watching it to make a bigger salt post lol #I don't hate watch things because I would much rather watch something I'd enjoy #tbh I don't understand hate watching at all but that's a different conversation gsdfjhdfhj))#death mention tw #depression tw

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