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beetlesau · 1 year

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CHAPTER 6, WARMTH! finally lol sorry I was seriously blocked, still am but figures better to get something out than nothing. ----------------- -------------------- ----------------- ------------------

"Do you eat food?" "Ung?"

"Have you eaten, people?"

"Mmn..."

"Okay... I don't know what that means...but uh, let's save that one for later, okay?"

You sighed, leaning back on your elbows you gazed out of your newly renovated hole in the wall left by your new companion. The Sun coming through was warm and comforting on your skin. The cracked mug at your side held your now cold coffee.

"Do you feel the warmth?" you wondered. "Not just like, heat, since you clearly don't, after all the time spent in that crate, but warmth like, do you look at some pretty flowers and feel anything? Or, when you look at a sunrise, does it make you happy or sad?" you tilted your head to the side, so curious to know things he had no way of communicating yet. But it's been a few days of him being here, so you imagine he's used to you asking long-winded questions that need more in-depth answers.

You wonder if he's just glad someone is there to talk to him. You know you are.

He's learned your name, though he won't use it to call to you. It almost seems like he completely avoids it.

The only reason you know he's learned it is because of the way he says it at night when he thinks you're sleeping. Sometimes you can hear him as he paces the halls nonstop on some never-ending patrol. Over and over, he'll speak it as best his cracked vocals allow. He's gotten good at it. Even during the day, you'd sometimes imagine you've heard him hum just the syllables of it.

You set up the apartment room across from yours. Made it as homely and welcoming as possible, considering the world was a whole mess. He has a bed that he never uses, some books he never reads, plants he doesn't water, and even canned food he'll never open.

The problem is you aren't really sure how to help him. What does he need to feel human?

When he isn't gone for hours at a time, he's pacing the room you occupy. You've tested it before, gone up to the roof, and waited. Not long after, you'd hear shuffling coming up the stairs, and there he was. Minding his own business, he wouldn't even spare you a glance, as if it was always his plan to come up here anyway, regardless of you. Then you'd decide to walk down the wall of the building, as casually as they come, and make your way out of sight past a corner street. You'd walk to the old park that was now overgrown and sit at one of its benches. He never approached you, but you were sure you could see him pacing in the distance just at the edge of your peripherals. Maybe it should have scared you. A lion that stalks and plays with its food. Maybe you made those instincts kick into overdrive. But you instead found it funny, and surprisingly cute.

You jolt from your thoughts and land in your room with him sitting across from you. He had been staring again. He was always staring.

"I've got an idea."

You get up and leave the room, not even bothering to tell him where you were off to, knowing it didn't matter. As well as the surprise was half the fun.

You begin walking down the street slowly, making sure he was indeed still going to follow you like he did every other time. There was a store down the way that had most of its clothing still in decent condition. Hopefully, your sour friend would humor you and at least change out of those dingy clothes he'd been wearing his entire Dead career.

Even going at a slower pace, you still managed to get to the shop well before him. You'd collected three clean shirts and a pair of jeans by the time he could be seen lurking outside the window. You knocked on the glass before poking your head outside. "Hey you, come in here, don't be such a stalker, huh?" you teased. You closed the door on him before seeing his grimace.

"Okay. I think it's well past time that you change out of those clothes, don't you? They make the entire building smell like smoke and ash." you chided cheerfully, as you handed him the growing stack of clothes and pointed him off to the dressing room.

After a while, you'd stop hearing the sounds of fabric rustling, but then silence followed. "Hey, you good in there? You are able to change, right? Do you need help?" no reply.

You gently pulled back the curtain, almost a bit embarrassed at what you might find. There he stood, shirtless, staring in the mirror.

You could see old scars littering his chest, and bruises outlining every rib. Staring with such sadness made your heart ache for him. He hated himself. He hated what he had become. It was clear he hadn't seen himself in a mirror in a long time.

"H-hey... Are you alright?" you whispered, almost worried you might frighten him. No reply, not even an angry huff which seemed to be his favorite response.

Stepping closer to him, you could make out the glossiness in his eyes, and a look of defeat that somehow you knew didn't suit his face in the slightest.

He turned to you and then walked out of the store. He didn't turn back the way to the apartment, he made his way further into the city, to a little area you hadn't dared to explore for fear of dangers unknown. You could feel the pull of him, his desire for you to follow.

You walked for two hours, maybe more.

He stopped in front of a small house, it was falling apart slower than all the houses around it you thought. You could see how cute it must have been in its heyday. He walked to the door and waited for you.

"Do you... live here?" you asked puzzled. Did the Dead LIVE anywhere?

But he proceeded inside and left the door open for you.

Inside was dusty. Picture frames lined the tabletops in the entryway, and further down the hall opened up to the living room and kitchen. Pots and pans were littering the countertops and the couch had signs of wear and tear from possible rodents in need of shelter.

The tall blonde made his way up the stairs and into a side room. You took your time to follow him. First picking up a picture frame caked in mud. Finally, you noticed a blood stain that peeked out from behind an overturned chair in the dining room. What looked like a regular home of the apocalypse suddenly felt more threatening than just that.

You cowered into yourself and sprinted up the stairs to find him for comfort.

Comfort.

It seemed the last thing on your mind was that the very person you were with was the cause of all that old blood spread out on the floor.

"Is that your blo-- Hey!" you were standing in a room that very clearly had belonged to a teen once. And against the wall was the adult version of that teen, laying in a bed.

"SO you DO sleep!? Is this where you go when you aren't around me? Wow." You looked around the room taking in all the old hero memorabilia. The notable amount of the long-gone hero, All-Might.

"This stuff is like, really vintage." you awed over the collection. In the corner of this room

At last, you remembered you were still toting around the picture frame, you took your sleeve and wiped away the dirt and dust.

There was a picture of a man in glasses next to a blonde woman, youthful and beautiful. The woman looked similar to the Dead that lay in front of you now. In looks but expression as well. She looked proud but a bit annoyed all at once. This must be his family.

You cleared away the other half of the image, a hero standing next to the couple.

"Oh wow, your parents met Dynamight, that's actually... wait." you took far too long to process, but finally you realized who you were looking at.

"Holy Fuck." you looked to the Dead that was looking at you blankly like it should have been the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're Dynamight! THE Dynamight!........ Well shit, that makes alot of sense now. Ugh, OF COURSE you can fly. I'm an idiot. Your quirk was so strong, well IS strong I guess..."

Dynamight turned to his nightstand and reached inside for a notebook. He handed it to you expectantly, and you took it eagerly.

You flipped through the pages and found old notes from a time long passed.

School work, homework, equations, doodles of his early years hero costume, and in the corner of every page, the name "Bakugo, Katsuki." written sloppily.

"Wow." you held the notebook to your chest and wordlessly made your way to his bed, laying under the blanket that he was on top of.

"Bakugo. Bakugo. Bakugo. Bakugo." you repeated it over again, like you'd heard him do with yours so many times in the night. It created warmth in your mouth that you swallowed and felt spread through you.

It was too dark outside for you to feel safe returning to your own shelter, so you both stayed where you were. For once, he lie still, free of pacing and mumblings.

He had shared something with you. It was small, but it was enough.

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pjstafford · 1 year

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A non-obligatory 2022 year-end wrap-up

I am old enough to remember when it was really easy to lose contact with folks when you or they moved to different states. Without social media or instant messaging, there wasn't the easy type of access to knowing what is going on with a person as there is today. Long-distance phone calls were expensive - for emergencies, chats on birthdays, the weekly call to your mother timed so as to not cost so much. There were no digital Christmas cards. We mailed old fashion, snail mail cards with chatty family newsletters to tell everyone what the family had been up to that year. One letter summarizing the year for everyone - your friends from high school, co-workers, extended family, old boyfriend's parents- everyone got one really chatty and carefully worded letter.

It wasn't that different than today's social media, in its way. We generally put on the best face. If we bought a new home, did renovations, or purchased a new car, then generally the family pic was taken in front of that big purchase - or there would be a family pic of this summer's great beach trip. We would tell about our pets. If we started a new job. If someone graduated from school. If we were planning a move. I loved receiving and writing those letters until the year I got a divorce. Then, I didn't know how to put that in a charming, fun letter. It didn't seem Christmas spirit-like to tell people who didn't already know what was, for me, the absolute most devastating news. So I sent signature cards - no time to write more - love you and miss you. I was surprised by the number of friends I hadn't seen in a few years calling to say - "What the heck is going on? What's the matter?"

It's been a long time since those once-a-year newsy letters were needed. We post our most commonplace days and even our commonplace meals - on social media. I started,a few years ago, doing a New Year's blog which is not so much "here is the news" and instead "here is where my mind is at right now". One year I wrote about my journey as a super fan. Another of my favorite books of the year. The third year of my New Year's resolution. In the last couple of years pandemic New Year's Blogs. This year, I seriously decided not to write one. No one will miss it. Not sure who reads it. No one cares, but, then, I was reminded of not wanting to tell people I was divorced. 2022 deserves a blog.

For me, this will always be the year my best friend died. I don't mean my BFF. I mean someone I met in 1975. Someone I lived with on four different occasions. Someone I had argued and fought with and laughed and been silly with and the one person in the entire world I knew would be there for me no matter what. There are a couple of paragraphs in Bob Dylan's new book The Philosophy of Modern Song describing "Come Rain or Come Shine" which perfectly describes Tyoka's and mine friendship. "Whether you're in good humor or dissatisfied it's all the same, and your affection for each other is lodged in the brain, the nervous system. Whether you have peace of mind or you're down in the mouth, this friendship is longstanding and formidable. Upbeat or downbeat, fidelity is beyond question. Your involvement unchanging with wholehearted respect, this love is conclusive and deep in your subconscious."

Last Thursday afternoon as my work week was ending and I was happy to have a four-day Holiday to enjoy, I thought to myself - "Oh, I should call Tyoka" and, then, I burst into tears. Throughout the weekend, I missed her - not because I spent every holiday with her - but because, if we were not going to spend Holidays together there would be phone calls, texts, gifs, connection, and communication.

Those, then, are my thoughts this New Years. I am grateful for the fact that I live in a day when we don't even know the meaning of a long-distance call. We can zoom, and we can text. Those days of the nice, long Christmas letter are, in fact, behind us for the good -mostly.

This brings us to 2022 as a whole. I attended a Dylan concert. I traveled to Seattle to see my friend Cathy and my favorite writer, David Duchovny, I went to see Tyoka twice this summer and, also, met my friend Charmion and her daughter IRL for the first time. It's good face-to-face and back in person. It's, also, terrifying as so many people I know have been really ill this year. I did less of the virtual entertainment activities I did in the previous two years - they were not as available. I find that sad. I feel changed forever over the last two years. Some of the changes are good. Some are not. I don't think we know yet what the last two years will bring in terms of permanent changes to the way we approach the world.

I am fine. If you knew me when I was twenty, forty, or today, I am as quirky and odd as always. Still don't seem to fit anywhere in this life. I am quick to make a joke, but sadness, fear, and uncertainty are close enough to the surface that I still make a lot of stupid personal decisions and wrong choices. I'm still most excited when I have good work to do. I still am writing. I still dance when alone throughout my day. I can still be extremely passionate about the lyrics of certain songs. My primary resolution for the next year is to learn to cook a variety of foods so that I don't waste food by throwing it in the garbage - so, yes, apples can become apple sauce or an apple/ carrot soup. It's not so much about eating healthier or cheaply as it is about feeling guilty for buying and then throwing out food. That is guilt I can get rid of. It is a thing over which I have control.

Perhaps, I would have more to say about the state of the world and be able to express wise words if I wasn't so preoccupied with my own grief and day-by-day adjusting to a changing world. That is 2022 for me and yet, there isn't a day when I don't find some joy.

Here is something I've been thinking about which I will use to end this blog. As I age, I find the bounce in resiliency to be very different. I don't bounce back from a fall, a fail or a hardship well as I once did, but, maybe, the true bounce should come from standing strong and letting things bounce off of you - not to fall, not to see things as failures but as opportunities for growth, That's a second resolution, I guess, to practice a different type of resiliency.

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youreatotalposer · 2 years

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Paper Rings

Yelena Belova X Reader

A/N: based off Taylor swifts Song paper rings. shout out to @alotofpockets for being a great friend and always giving me feedback and helping me with some of my ideas. This one is for you:)

Fluff! Songfic!

The moon is high, like your friends were the night that we first met

Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet

Now I’ve read all of the books beside your bed

Yelena and I have been dating for a year now and looking back things couldn’t be more perfect. She has the perfect blonde hair, pale skin, greenish brown eyes, and smile that could light up this whole city. Our first meeting we went out for wine, but we got into a disagreement so I gave her the cold shoulder for the rest of the evening. For the next three months it was like a cat and mouse game. We now live together in a small apartment in New York City. It isn’t huge, but its perfect for us.

Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe

I couldn’t sleep so naturally I rolled over and watched her sleep. She was so peaceful, her nightmares have magically disappeared and now she sleeps peacefully through the night. “I know you are staring at me.. go to sleep” she said in a very cute sleepy voice. I giggled “How did you know I was staring at you?” “Did you forget I am trained Russian assassin I am a light sleeper, and plus I felt you move.” When Yelena is sleepy her accent is super thick, and it melted my heart every time.

Kiss me once ‘cause you know I had a long night

Kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be alright

Three times ‘cause I waited my whole life

I woke up in the morning to her singing American Pie in the kitchen, she was in nothing but a T-shirt and her underwear dancing around making pancakes and bacon. I walked up behind her and grabbed her by her waist and pulled her close into me. She looked into my eyes and simply said, “Are you going to kiss me.. now or later?” I chuckled and kissed her not once, not twice, but three times. Three was my lucky number. She pulled away from me because she was about to burn the pancakes, I went and sat at the table. “I love you, Yelena.” “I love you too Y/N.”

I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

That’s right darling, you’re the one I want

*FLASHBACK*

I was walking out of a bookstore when I ran straight into someone spilling their coffee all over them and me. “I am so so sorry I-“I was cut off, “Hi its not a problem, no worries.” I heard the accent and started falling. “I am Yelena, and you are soaked. Come on Ill help you get cleaned up.” She said, while she grabbed my hand and started walking. “My apartment is just up here, if you want you can clean up there and then I believe I owe you like lunch or something for ruining your clothes.” She chuckled. I nodded, “Um yeah lunch sounds great, and I would love to get out of this shirt.” She smirked at me, and I blushed. “Friends?” she asked me cooly. “Yeah friends, I would like that.”

*End of flashback*

Paper rings

In picture frames, in dirty dreams

You’re the one I want

It was Yelena’s turn to pick the date, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she wanted to go skydiving or something incredibly dangerous that I was going to hate. “I know this house that is being renovated and they have this incredible pool, we are going to break in and go for a swim.” “Yelena are you insane! No way!” I said sternly. Unfortunately, she was driving, and we pulled up to this huge house. “Come on babe we wont get caught it will be fun. We both got out of the car and jumped the fence, we stripped down into our underwear and she jumped straight into the pool and I quickly followed.

I’m with you, even if it makes me blue

Honey, without all the exes, fights, and flaws

We wouldn’t be standing here so tall

Later that night we were sitting by the heater in our living room, attempting to warm up. She pulled out of her pocket a paper ring, “I cant afford a real one for now, but would you marry me y/n?” I started tearing, “I mean I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings” She smiled and kissed me.

“WE ARE GETTING MARRIED” She screamed

You’re the one I want

tag list: @alotofpockets@nats-dreamland

#florence pugh #yelena belova #black widow #mcu phase 4 #yelena belova x reader #yelena x you #kayak fics #mcu fic

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lovenona · 3 years

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ON THE SACRED BONDS OF BROTHERHOOD.

synopsis; choso may be their beloved frat brother, but he’ll always be your brother first. (for the frat au collab.)

pairing; frat boy! choso x f! reader

contains; stepcest, dubcon (reader is under the influence but having a good time), extensive descriptions of knife play and blood play, marking (choso carves his name into you), oral (f! receiving), borderline yandere/possessive choso (he loves you A Lot), choso goes from mean to Soft, consumption and romanticization of drugs and alcohol, (1) use of ‘angel’, reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns, this is essentially all foreplay and ends before the fucking because i got tired, minors do not interact or perish

word count; 6.5k

the yard outside is clean, well-kept. there’s talk that the house’s landlord is a retired gardener who receives great joy from keeping up the hydrangeas and peonies along the sidewalk. it’s certainly award-winning, that front yard, with its colorful blossoms and plush bees circling the mailbox.

they’re so lucky, students bemoan on their way to and from class. i can’t believe the frat boys get to live there. i bet they don’t even know how lucky they are.

it’s a seemingly kind house from the outside – recently renovated with navy blue paint and white trimming, a large front porch and a few inviting windows. the place that omega lambda now calls home is, simply put, a dream. it sits just a few minutes from campus and it tells the street proudly, fondly, that there is no better place to be than here.

it’s true, in some respects, that omega lambda likes to see themselves as above the sweat and grime of their fellow frat brothers. they don’t spend their weekends “fucking and drinking” and tracking dirt across the carpet like animals. their fun is calm, refined: to be invited to a night with omega lambda means a night of smoke curling into the air, of gossip over olive-colored couches, of pills under tongues, of ease and relaxation.

it’s slower than the others, they say in the back of monday morning lectures, but no less extreme, no matter what those boys try and tell you.

i think i was tripping for days, the girl from psychology 101 boasted. whatever the fuck yuuji gets is strong.

such stories amaze you: and even as you stand on the sidewalk outside the perfect blue house, petunias curling inward with the evening breeze, you cannot believe they are real. it’s hard to imagine the face of your beloved stepbrother tied to these antics. it’s hard to imagine that the boy who used to come home every winter and summer with bloodshot eyes and a beat-up skateboard also swore a loyal, unbreakable oath of brotherhood to a band of boys you’ve never met.

it’s hard to imagine that your own stepbrother, choso, the one who taught you how to ride a bike and how to apply eyeliner and how to kiss without teeth, quite literally runs what has been dubbed the chillest fraternity on campus.

but yet, here you are, new to university, fresh-faced and eager, cowering outside the door of the omega lambda residence. your favorite skirt hovers around your thighs and you tug at the collar of your shirt, fiddle with the charm of the necklace choso gave you for your birthday a few years ago.

he’d invited you here almost immediately after learning that you and your roommate had tried your hand at partying with beta pi epsilon. naoya is trash, choso’s fervent texts read the next morning. absolute dick – don’t trust him. come hang out with us instead. he’d attached the address of the blue house along with a reminder to have a snack and take some medicine for your godforsaken hangover.

the message had taken you a little by surprise. choso’s always been sweet to you – doting, even, if you wanted a better word for it – but you hadn’t been sure how he’d handle attending the same university. your other friends all complain that they’d rather die than see their families; twins separate after orientation, brothers and sisters look the other way if they pass each other in the quad. you feared choso would be the same, that the omnipotent attention he gave you at home would completely dissipate the moment you moved into your dorm.

but his text reaffirms you, if anything. and although your roommate had opted to be wined and dined by the boy from calculus this evening, you don’t mind attending alone. her absence from your side only means you will be able to see your stepbrother without a distraction.

the music buzzes through the door as you knock and wring your fingers on the doorstep. should you just walk in? should you text choso and wait for him to fetch you? the ins-and-outs of frat etiquette cloud your mind until the door swings open and you’re met, face-to-face, with a young pink-haired man dangling a blunt from one hand and his phone, opened to his spotify playlist, from the other.

“hi,” you say, words foreign in your throat. “choso invited me?”

“oh, cool,” itadori yuuji says, shrugging his shoulders like he never would have questioned it. “come on in. you can put your shoes over there.”

while omega lambda is not packed from wall to wall as your night at beta pi epsilon had been, the various couches propped against the walls and surrounding the living room coffee table are nearly packed to the brim with the frat brothers and their guests. the air, hazy with smoke and desire and drinking, shifts and swirls as it curls around purple LED lights before fogging up the windows and disappearing up the stairs. it is warm here, easy, like dropping into the depths of a pleasurable dream.

“there’s drinks in the kitchen,” yuuji is saying, voice thick with his high, “and we’ve got some other stuff on the table, although you’ll have to pay yuuta for those–”

yuuji’s narration is cut off as a familiar figure crashes into yours, sweeping you into a hug so tight you fear your bones will snap from the pressure. choso smells like the cologne you bought him for his birthday, like fresh laundry and comfort; you breathe him in, deeply, and let yourself relax into the soft cotton of his black t-shirt.

“glad you could make it,” choso mumbles into your skin. he draws back slightly, drinks you in, your little skirt and your dainty socks that he’s always been partial to. he looks from you to yuuji, still vibing to the side with his playlist, and his eyes crinkle in what must be mirth.

“it’s good to see you,” you say.

“you saw me at lunch with mom last week.” choso smiles, the black line across his nose crinkling when his eyes light up.

“you get what i mean.” you tap his shoulder, lightly, as emphasis. the anxiety dissolves; it’s you, and him, like it’s always been. it’s your stepbrother choso who watches your shadow and wraps you up to keep the rest of the world at bay.

but the tender moment is broken when someone, a tall blonde girl with the aura of a lioness, calls out to choso to ask him for assistance. he looks at you, a bit forlorn, before telling yuuji to help you get settled in and making his way to the other end of the living room.

“yes, this way!” yuuji grabs your arm and drags you across the floor like you’ve known each other forever. “i make some fucking good drinks if i do say so myself.”

which, consequently enough, is how you find yourself losing your mind within the walls of omega lambda.

it’s not that you’re a virgin to the world of cocktails and lime and pills: it’s that you’re too sweet to know when to stop. it’s hard to tell yuuji no more, thanks when his face is so bright, when he and the strange, blue-haired frat brother mahito are asking you to try this and try that and to let us know what you think.

so you let yourself sway through the house, from couch to couch, listening to this mahito boy tell you about his latest philosophy courses as he dances cold fingers across your shoulders, listening to yuuji explain the very serious business of pulling an all-nighter without coffee, watching the LED lights shift from purple to blue and back again.

(you’re not sure where choso is. perhaps, in your altered state, he’s sitting just across from you and you don’t even know it. but you don’t mind, because his brothers get along with you just as well. you don’t mind, because you’re too drunk or too high to know any better.)

“and how are you doing?” a dark-haired man slides into the empty couch space next to you. arms littered with various tattoos and dark hair pulled back into a casual half-bun, he could have been your beloved choso had he not exuded such finesse, such arrogance, which choso could never be capable of doing.

“i’m alright,” you say, but you’re more than alright. the room is so warm and your brain is so fuzzy that you might melt into the couch if someone looked away for even a minute. “i don’t think we’ve met before? i’m choso’s stepsister.”

he simpers, a humid thing, one that coils around your eyelids and sets your insides alight. “ah! i’ve heard a lot about you. it’s nice to meet you.” he holds out a manicured hand; black nail polish glimmers in the dim light. “geto. i’m one of choso’s frat brothers.”

his handshake might take your soul with it. his hands are smooth, refined. you swear he can feel your quickening pulse as you introduce yourself. he watches you like you might be the only person in the room, like you might be the sweetest thing to have ever crossed the threshold. and filled with rum and liqueur and confidence you take it, gladly, because you’re young and the thought of university still puts stars in your eyes.

“so what are you studying?” geto is saying, prying you apart, picking through your history. he’s in his final year and you’re in your first and he knows all there is to know while you still have nothing. you latch onto him because he gets it, because he’s handsome, because you’re silly and desperate and drunk. somewhere along the way your thighs touch and his hand greets your shoulder and you think that you finally made it into his lap because mahito complained that the couch was too full.

geto smells like expensive cologne. you smell vaguely of lemons and shampoo. yuuji jokes with you from across the table and you like it, the way these brothers’ eyes fall on you.

so you spiral, further and further, into a daze you cannot escape from. you barely react to geto’s firm hand snaking up your bare thigh because you are too busy trying yuuji’s latest creation and asking mahito for more of whatever he gave you. it’s fun, it’s weightless; you feel beautiful, supreme, like the kind of college girl you’re supposed to be. you’re desirable, cute. you’re the girl to be in love with, the one who sets the scene.

those rumors were right. the party is certainly slower than the other frats you’ve visited, with more emphasis on sitting and vibing than on dancing and drinking games, but no less extreme. you’re so far out of your brain that you wonder briefly if it will ever be possible to come back down. maybe you’ll be her, on monday morning, the girl who’s still tripping.

“you know,” geto is saying, his breath eerily close to your pulse, a moment away from pressing a kiss to your cheek, your neck, “you should stop by more often.”

“yeah?” you hope you sound sexier than you are. “i’d love to–”

“excuse me,” choso’s voice cuts through your lazy fantasy like the sharp fall of a guillotine. “i’d prefer if you didn’t hit on my sister, geto.”

geto’s laugh reverberates against your back, your ears. his grip on you lightens immediately, and whatever words he’d saved for you die away. “i’m not,” he says, but his voice is too easy to be honest. “just keeping her company. right, sweetheart?”

you’re finding it hard to see straight. caught in this game of cat and mouse you find you can do nothing but sit lamely in geto’s lap and watch choso’s favorite necklace reflect the purple light. it’s only after a revolution around the sun you realize you haven’t spoken, that you’ve done nothing but hover, a lot of drunk and a little high and a little nervous, between one man and the other. you mumble a yes in affirmation but it’s clear from the tension that choso doesn’t believe it.

“oh, for fuck’s sake,” choso sighs. “come on, then. you’ve had enough for one night.” familiar arms lift you off the couch and you stumble, much like a baby gazelle, into the safety of choso’s chest. the room spins with the sudden change; you cling to him like a lifeline as you abandon the party to head upstairs.

of course, bedazzled out of your mind, you do not question when choso leads you to the end of the hallway and over the threshold of his bedroom. it feels expected in a way, safe, as if the party had always been meaning to end here. as if there was no other place you should be.

“so?” choso asks, casually, shutting the door behind him with a damning click. “did you enjoy being a little whore with my brothers?”

his words take a long moment to settle in your ears. you’re caught in the swirl of euphoria in your brain, the black t-shirts scattered across the floor, the small houseplant you once bought him seated on the windowsill. it warms your heart to see it there, after all this time.

“well?” choso demands your attention. he takes your jaw in his hand and lifts your eyes to meet his gaze. his silver rings, imposing and cool on slender fingers, burn into your heated flesh like embers. his eyes swim with distaste and you know it’s your fault, somehow, but when the walls tilt and your rationality fogs over, you can’t quite pinpoint why.

“i–” your words catch in your throat. it’s clear, from the darkness in his eyes, from the way his nails dig into the soft flesh of your jawline, that anything you say to defend yourself will be futile. it’s choso’s world, you’ve always known, and even now, you’re merely living in it.

“i invite my sister to see me, because i miss her,” choso’s words nestle themselves deep into your bloodstream, settling amongst the brandy and wine, “and she chooses to spend the night bending over for my brothers. how do you think that makes me feel?”

it’s a look you know: a look that has haunted you for hours and days, a look that you know better than any other. it’s the look that guides the hand between your legs at night and the look you recreate in your mind’s eye when your vibrator just isn’t enough. you’re crumbling already, like sand beneath his touch.

“i’m sorry,” you say to him, but the words are soft and whispered things, shy beneath the weight of your own guilt and disappointment. “i didn’t mean to–”

“no,” choso admonishes. he steps closer, guiding you backwards until his bedsheets brush the backs of your knees. “of course you didn’t. you’re still too dumb to know what you’re doing.” his voice, evenly condescending, hardly matches the gentle brush of his fingers as he moves to cup your cheeks. you close your eyes against it, savoring the shivers he sends across you body with every heartbeat, every movement. “still need your big brother to keep you in check.”

you do not respond: he does not intend for you too. instead choso presses you back until you fall onto his bed, crawling over you to cage your body beneath him like a predator and its prey. your brain falters with the sudden movement, with the lateness of the hour and the depravity of your position, but you can do nothing but look at him with your helpless doe-eyes while something saccharine pools in your belly.

“look at you,” choso says. “high out of your damn mind. good thing i caught you when i did. who knows what would have happened.”

you believe him, you do, especially when choso dips his head to kiss you and demands your subservience. his tongue licks the aftermath of your cocktails from your lips and claims the expanse of your mouth, your teeth, your sanity. you let him take you, body and soul, even when you’re clamoring for air and freedom. there is no safety but choso’s lips, flavored with his cinnamon chapstick, no sacred home but the warmth of his mouth.

“there’s my girl,” choso breathes, nose brushing against yours as he pulls back for air. “going to be good for me now? going to make it up to your big brother?”

he doesn’t wait for a response; fingers dance along the silk of your blouse as he undoes each button, one by one, letting his fingers dip slyly against the newly exposed expanse of your collarbone and your chest and your stomach. you make no move to stop him, caught somewhere between choso’s aura and reality and time.

(and maybe in another life you would have stopped him. maybe in another life you would have been ashamed. but it’s choso, your sworn protector and god among men, and you would be a fool to try and stop the one who knows best. he is safety, protection. who knows what would have happened if he hadn’t taken you away when he did.)

“is this new?” choso asks, studying the curve of your bra as he rests against your hips. “who are you trying to impress?”

it’s thin lavender lace, choso’s favorite. your face warms at the observation and you turn your head away, nestling among the sheets, as if you could escape choso’s eyes: but his fingers still trace the material and you can still hear him breathing and you know he will never look away.

“i just got it,” you answer, humbled and mildly humiliated and certainly a little fucked up. the words are slow and imprecise as you stumble over your own tongue. “i wanted to…treat myself.”

choso’s exploratory hands move from your bra to the waistband of your skirt. “could’ve just asked me,” he says earnestly, intently. “i would’ve gotten it for you.”

your affirmative hum is lost when choso mindfully pulls your skirt down your legs and discards it somewhere in the shadows of the room. he says nothing of it, of the thin fabric or the way it flattered you just right. perhaps he is jealous of it. perhaps he does not want to remember the way his brothers looked at you when you wore it, the way geto’s hands caressed the places no other man should go.

“they match, i see,” choso gestures towards your underwear. terrified and knowing and aware that you’re growing damper with each passing minute, you press your thighs together. “they’re cute.”

“t-thank you,” you whisper. “i… i got them for you. your favorite color.”

he smiles, a precious and glorious thing, a smile that causes flowers to grow and birds to sing. you electrify at the sight of it, blissful only when he is.

“i’d hope so,” choso says, “because i don’t think i could take it if this was meant for someone else.”

he reaches over to the nightstand while his words claw through you. choso smells like cinnamon and safety and pleasure; your heartbeat quickens as his t-shirt brushes against you, as your world collapses into nothing but choso’s profile, his butterfly hair-clips and his glowing skin and his power.

when choso settles back over you, resting against your thighs until you think you might die of it, something silver and shiny rests in his palm. you’d recognize it even if your eyes were closed, if the room were so dark that you couldn’t see if you tried. a searing and insatiable sensation lodges itself in your veins; it is fear personified, it is anticipation of a behavior you cannot even name.

choso twirls his beloved switchblade deftly between his well-manicured fingertips. it reflects the low-light of the room. it calls out to you, the beautiful and dangerous thing, a siren’s song that promises both your misery and your fortune. choso’s face is relaxed, serene, as the envy and the fury seemingly melts away from him and leaves only a disinterested vessel behind.

he lets you study it, lets you study him, and you know he’s pleased when he can feel your thighs tense, when you try so damn hard not to let choso know just how affected you really are. he shifts, grinding gently against your pelvis as he moves, causing you to bite your lip in a desperate attempt to surpress the gentlest of moans.

“well,” choso says, disregarding the state he’s slowly working you into. he shifts down your body and runs a lackluster hand across the lacy expanse of your underwear. shivers pierce your navel, silver rings poison your skin. it’s all you can do to watch him, his heartless eyes and his casual form, as his thumb prods at the place where you underwear crosses your hip. “let’s get these off. i’d hate to have anyone else see you in them.”

you feel the blade before you see it. cold, unfriendly, it rests against the gentle skin of your hip, a killer ready to take a life. a humiliatingly choked whine is out of your mouth before you can swallow it; your gasp reverberates throughout the room, the sound of one who knows they’ve lost a fight.

“choso–” you breathe, but you don’t know quite what it is you’re asking him for.

he doesn’t answer immediately, opting instead to tease you further with the blade as he presses it against you until goosebumps rise in chorus. your fingers curl in on themselves, desperate for purchase, while fear and longing hum everywhere in your being.

“don’t worry,” choso says. “i’ll buy you more. now be good and stay still.”

you want to writhe, to lash out and squirm beneath the intensity of the moment, but you fear choso’s disappointment more than you crave such release. your big brother choso has never been afraid to hurt you: to pierce the skin where it hurts, to draw blood where he means it. if you move, the blade will move with you. you know this as you know every scar choso has left behind.

it’s agonizing, this pace. choso’s tongue peeks out from between his teeth as he works with the ease of a great master. it’s like watching paint dry, like waiting for grass to grow or continents to shift. he cuts away at the expensive lingerie you bought just last weekend like he has all the time in the world, like he does not care if the sun rises and you are still crying beneath him.

(and he does it, you know, because you’ve never been one to be patient.)

“choso,” you whine, drawing his name out, long and frustrated, as if in song. “go faster.” your legs twitch in protest and the blade comes ever closer.

“no.” choso does not even spare the kindness to look at you, his beloved little sister. “stop whining.”

the rest of your complaints lodge in your throat. you fear disobeying him, so you grip the comforter like a lifeline, exasperated tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as the blade cuts through your clothes and ghosts across the bare skin beneath. it’s embarrassing, really, the way you can feel yourself becoming more and more desperate the further choso drifts away from you, the more he refuses to indulge.

you wonder if he can sense the arousal on you, feel it, smell it, even, like you’re nothing but his own little plaything in heat.

after an eternity, the blade finally cuts through your panties with a satisfying rip. the torn fabric sits pitifully against your hips, a reminder of your own subservience, until choso peels it away from you with enough condescension to move you to tears. the cool air of the room hits your thighs, your cunt, like a ghost who’s taken up residence beside you.

blissfully unaware of your feelings, choso studies the remains of your ruined underwear, the thin fabric and the obvious stain of your arousal. locking eyes with you, he bring it to his nose for a brief and pleasurable inhale before he discards it somewhere on the other side of the room.

“there we are,” he says, as if he hadn’t just smelled yourself in front of you. “now no one will ever know about it but me.”

“choso,” you whimper, hot. it’s a gift and a humiliation to be beneath him like this, to shake with need and yet to be denied it, to ask for something, for anything, in a voice so unabashedly loud that anyone who passes by the door might hear it.

he ignores you, again, and turns his attention to your bra as it flutters against your fervent chest. you watch with wide eyes as the blade comes closer, closer, dancing against your ribcage and sending ice into your lungs until it slices through the front of your bra, down the center of your chest, like the thin fabric was made of nothing but water.

“get rid of this,” he says; you listen. with quick and quivering fingertips you shimmy your way out of the delicate material and toss it over the side of the bed faster than the speed of sound. choso, pleased with your obedience, intently traces the curve of your breasts, thumbing your nipples until you find yourself arching into his touch.

(choso, you mumble, eyes falling shut at the feeling. still, as always, he does not listen. he draws his hands away.)

it kills you, the way choso’s eyes possess you, own you, dictate the movement in your bloodstream. it’s akin to being pulled along on marionette strings, a puppet of choso’s own design, made to dance for him and him alone.

it’s the prize he deserves, your big brother, to own you and protect you, body and soul.

it’s that very intensity which moves you to misty tears, which causes your hands to fly out to meet him against your better judgement. choso lets you pleasure yourself for a moment with the texture of his t-shirt and the outline of his shoulders before brushing your hands away like unnecessary flies.

“did you whore yourself out like this when you went to naoya’s?” choso prods. the patronization lies beneath feigned and genuine curiosity. there are no inflections, no signs of anger. this is how your big brother gets you, every time: it’s the neglect, the disinterest, that breeds your guilt. “are you really so easy for every boy that comes your way?”

you shake your head and wish you could bury yourself further into the bedsheets. no, never. try as you might the first-year college boys here just haven’t been enough, the older ones too preoccupied with better cunts to look your way.

“just because those guys are my brothers,” choso continues, shifting further and further down your body, spreading your legs until he can fit himself comfortably between them, “doesn’t mean i have to share everything with them.”

“i’m sorry, choso,” you try again, “i’m sorry. i don’t want anyone else–”

“that’s right,” choso interrupts. “you don’t need anyone else. no one is ever going to love you the way i do.”

the way your big brother does, his eyes say, but he doesn’t have to voice it. you already know. it’s true that no one knows you better than choso does. no one understands your limits and your desires the way your brother has for as long as you’ve known him. no one knows how to caress you when you cry, how to run their tongue across your lips to silence you when you’re too eager. it’s always choso. it’s always been choso; but sometimes you’re just too much of a fool to see it.

the blade, cool and demanding, presses against the soft flesh of your thigh, just below the hip. you twitch in surprise at the sensation and curl your toes to quell the ache in your cunt. it’s slick, weeping; you can feel it, the arousal, as it pools and pools and drips quietly onto the comforter.

“choso, what are you–” you ask, breathily, pitifully, but choso’s quick glare reduces you into obedient silence.

he licks the cinnamon chapstick on his lips. a stray hair falls across his eyes and kisses the dark line across his nose. he is love and danger, a cocktail of possession and surrender. “i think,” choso says, the words slow and thoughtful, “you need a reminder of who loves you the most.”

a strangled cry escapes your lips when the blade pierces your skin just enough to draw blood. the sting travels up through your spine and fogs up your senses, causes your cunt to weep in horrible anticipation. it hurts, it does, the first cut, but still you find yourself waiting for more of it, more, in terror and lust and love.

“choso–” you cry, a misty tear escaping out of the corner of your eye, but the call is met by another stroke, longer this time, drawn out, until your knuckles clutch the bedsheets so tensely they might as well turn to stone.

“stay still,” choso admonishes amidst the burn of it. “you’ll hurt yourself.”

as if you were the one in control. but you listen, obediently as always, and the alcohol from earlier combined with the need in your chest mixes together until your body is as taut as a desperate wire, until you no longer have control of yourself or your limbs. the knife cuts easily, choso’s hands as steady and precise as ever. you can feel the blood dripping onto his sheets like a series of hot tears.

it’s too much, all at once. it is a fire which destroys you, which renders every coherent thought into ash and causes you to sob nothing but drawn-out cries and pleads of choso’s name into the dark bedroom. he has you just where he wants you: pliant, dumb, obedient. if he asked you to fetch him a star, you would have asked him which one he needed.

choso’s tongue darts between his teeth as a steady hand continues its masterpiece. you sob unabashedly in reply with every stroke, with every flex of his fingers as he works his blade against your tender skin. and yet, as the pain grows, so does your need for something, for anything, for release; with every aching minute your cunt grows hotter and lonelier and emptier between your thighs.

you crave something, anything, choso, perhaps even more than you wish for air.

“there you go,” choso says, just as you release another cry so piercing there’s no way even yuuji wouldn’t have heard it. “all done.”

you sit up on your elbows to peer down at the masterpiece below your hip. smeared with blood, aching and raw from the blade, the word CHOSO spreads across your upper thigh in an uneven but heartfelt script. it makes you dizzy, this marking, this sign that no one owns you better than your sacred brother does. you wonder if it will leave a scar, if it will heal; and even more so, you wonder if choso will merely rewrite it, again and again, until every cell in your body knows that you are nothing without him.

you say nothing; a whine escapes your lips as your eyes flit from the mark to choso’s eyes, dark and possessive, as he looks back at you.

“you like it?” he asks, once again the sweet thing, the doting one.

“yes,” you whisper back, never one to lie to your perfect big brother.

but you cannot hide the insatiability. choso notices the way your thighs twitch from the intensity, the way your cunt drools and your eyebrows furrow because you cannot relieve this ache on your own. you’re helpless, entirely at his mercy. choso tilts his head with a soft and unreadable simper at the sight.

“you’re really worked up, huh?” he pretends your distress is not blatantly obvious. he twirls the bloodstained knife between his fingertips for a moment before bringing the flat edge of the blade against his lips in a somber kiss. “this little thing’s got you down bad, i see.” he flashes the switchblade at you like a diamond. you watch, entranced, as choso slides his tongue across the metal until any traces of your blood disappear into his mouth.

your belly’s on fire. the switchblade shines with choso’s spit and he smiles, your blood on his tongue, while he prods your legs apart, further, until you’re entirely open for him with nothing to hide. you whine lowly as choso’s eyes flicker between your eyes, dazed and helpless, and the slick on the bedsheets.

“choso,” you repeat. “please, help me.” your eyes are wide and your voice is small and you crumble beneath the weight of your own needing, of your own body working of its own volition, of the high that collapses all over you.

perhaps it’s the way you call for him, your big brother, in your time of need. perhaps it’s the way choso can never really deny you, even when he feigns disappointment or rage or neglect. he’s bound to you, your protector, and you can see in the way his eyes soften ever so slightly that choso will not deny you this request.

“sure thing, angel. let me clean this up for you.” choso’s voice is generous as he bows his face towards your hips with the reverence of one before the altar. he leaves no room for your answer. an eager tongue swipes across your thigh and laps at the blood which pools there. his movements are indulgent, refined, as he holds your legs open with intimidating palms and drinks you in like medicine.

“choso–” you gasp, unable to look away. his eyes flit back to meet yours in reply but he continues his ministrations, slow, teasing, as he ignores your cunt entirely and licks at the fresh wound until it’s finally, sacredly, clean. your newly beloved CHOSO glimmers with his spit when he pulls away. he smiles at you then, praying over your hips, lips stained red with your blood, with your being.

“i may be their brother,” choso gestures towards the door, to the party which must still rage below, “but i’m your brother first, and now you’ll never forget it.”

the words are followed by his tongue on your inner thigh, fervent this time, as he travels downwards, downwards from his name on your leg until his nose is a breath away from your clit. you thrust your hips towards him impatiently and he accepts it, gratefully, burying his face deep into your cunt like he’s searching for gold. choso lavishes your clit with plump lips and an eager tongue, drawing the bud into his mouth and kissing it until you cry, until your legs tremble as they ensnare him in your garden.

“choso–” you’re crying, voice transcendent throughout the frat house, his favorite song. there’s a tongue prodding against your hole and a silver ring on your clit and you lose yourself within it, within choso’s breath on your folds and the fire which erupts into chaos.

when it comes to pleasing you, choso does not require air. he refuses to resurface as his tongue explores every inch, as he laps away at you with the passionate abandon only an older brother can provide. what you need, he needs, and what you desire most, choso is always willing to provide. he holds you steady as he works so you cannot escape him. he forces you into stillness as he abuses every sacred inch of your cunt, as he works you into a frenzy with his fingers and his tongue until you can think of nothing but wanting to cum.

and then, then, at the precipice of pleasure, choso pulls away. you pause as you catch your breath, heartbeat like an earthquake, and recollect your shock. why has he stopped? where has he gone? you’re about to sit up, to feign sobriety, to demand what the matter is, when something cool and smooth presses against your clit.

choso’s cheek rests against your inner thigh as he presses the flat edge of the switchblade against your cunt. it’s cold and dangerous and sublime and you cannot help but think of the way it could ruin you, that if you shifted or choso wanted it everything could end here, now, forever. and it is this fear, coupled with the coolness of the blade suffocating your clit, with the alcohol in your bloodstream, that sends you into a place from which you may never return.

the orgasm is as violent as a hurricane. the moment you tense and begin to quake with a strangled sob choso replaces the blade with his tongue and rides you through it, coating his lips with your cum and swallowing the vibrations and heightening the sensation until you are tortured by it, by the sting of pleasure and overstimulation and want.

(“that’s it,” you think he says into your skin, but your ears ring too loudly to know. “cum for me, just like that.”)

it takes some time for the waves to recede and for your body to become still again. with a head comprised of of jelly and limbs made of water you lie still, panting, as choso nonchalantly licks your slick from the switchblade with a hum and gingerly sets it back down on his dresser. you watch as he slides the belt out of his jeans and tosses it into the dark room, as he hovers above you like an angel and its lover.

“better now?” he asks against your parted lips. you nod. he kisses you, deeply, a kiss made of iron and cum and blood, tongue swiping across your teeth before he draws the air from your lungs. your vision swims when he plants a kiss on the tip of your nose, your cheeks, your forehead, between your eyebrows. he plants his love until there is nowhere left untouched, until you are buzzing with the security only your brother choso can give you.

“yeah,” you mumble back to him, content, satisfied. even the sting of his name on your body is a pleasantry now.

“good.” choso wipes the perspiration from your brow. his jeans scratch against your pelvis, and it is only then that you finally register his cock, hard and eager, waiting patiently for its turn. it is only then that you realize choso’s lesson is not yet over, that your brother’s desperate need has only begun.

“now,” he purrs, gently, lovingly, “can you show me how much you love me?”

(as always, forever, you do. you show him your love, endlessly, even when the party ends and the house falls eerily silent. you show choso everything, all of it, loyally, just as he asks, with an only you, choso, and a no one else loves me like you.

because although choso offers his love to the brothers downstairs, he will always, forever, be your brother first, til death do you part.)

#tw incest #tw dubcon #tw knife play #tw blood play #tw marking #tw yandere #choso smut #choso.#it's dark in here #it's hot in here

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obeymematches · 3 years

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moving in with with your om! bf (GN MC) (not nsfw)

inspired by irl events🙈 see more at the end of this post dfghj

HoL = House of Lamentation

Lucifer: Stays in HoL but possibly renovates it a little bit to have more privacy. (as a compromise in case you reaaally didn't want to stay there - now you have your own bathroom + a small kitchen)

His brothers still depend on him so you continue to share family moments. (which isn't too bad, Lucifer is usually busy so sometimes you might actually want their company) Though now you get noticeably more alone time together - which makes him realize how it would've been a good idea to actually move out (he'd immediately regret that tho because he very care family).

Helps out with chores most of the time. Going OUT on dates is a must at least once a week or so otherwise both of you lose your minds. Nothing else changes, really. Mammon: More likely to move in with you in the human world but would (slightly) prefer the Devildom. (he'd only do that tho if he can secure a spot in a safer area for your sake. even if you are a powerful sorcerer.) Paying rent&bills is going to require hustle which might be a reason why you have to move back into HoL. (though...in canon if he is in love with u, u get rich even if u do nothing...so that'd be handy in this case) Definitely enjoys how he gets to keep you for himself and he is living for the small moments with you (such as morning cuddles) but also! with you everything is much more fun, even if both of you work multiple shifts; after each day you are so tired you can barely watch a movie. Both of you visit HoL on the regular.

Leviathan: The only reason he'd do it is to get more alone time with you. Would take ages to actually do it, but he'd prefer to live in the human world with you (it's safer + its better for anime and gaming). (Lucifer is against the idea which also slows down the process but he eventually gives in). You'd probably have an apartment in a city with fast internet connection (dw he's done his research) and where you can afford rent. He works from home (either esports or programming) so he is always there to greet you when you get home. Decorates the entire apartment with figurines and posters plus there is never enough space for him. Henry is there also. You'd think he cooks / bakes and you'd be wrong. 92% of the time it's take-out food time. Definitely needs help with chores at first but gets the hang of it easily. Occasionally you visit HoL.

Satan: Definitely would rather moving out and renting an apartment. I think he'd prefer the human world. I feel like he'd want to change cities often (every 3-5 yrs or so). He is a curious demon and there is always so much to learn about humans. Very domestic. Does the chores and he does them well. You can never complain. Somehow can balance work & you & chores. (probably needs explanation sometimes with equipment he isn't familiar with but we can excuse that) Every weekend is date weekend where you learn something new about each other and the culture of the country. Asmo visits every month or so & stays for ~3 days.

Asmodeus: hmm...i think he'd let you decide on the realm but he picks the exact location. He picks a very busy area with rich nightlife, but to your surprise he only participates like a couple of times a week, usually with you. Listen he adores being with you. Posts about your life together very often. Would start a new vlogging channel if you'd let him. Rent & bills are No Big Deal, though at first he is shocked at how expensive they are. Is fine with most of the chores but since he refuses to do the dishes, when it's him on dinner duty you both go on a date instead. Beelzebub: Refuses to move out if Belphie can't come, unless it's literally the house next to HoL. (/closest to. i'm not sure if they have like. a close neighbour) Rather domestic, does the chores and puts in work to get the bills. Sometimes you might not find him at home - he is either getting groceries or decided to visit Belphie. Would rather have a movie night with you than going out on a date. Depending on what kind of house it is, he might pick up gardening as a hobby. Belphegor: Similar to his twin he'd prefer staying close to him if possible, but if that can't happen he's fine with moving in with you in the human world. (yes he prefers that over the Devildom) Lucifer doesn't like this idea at all so you probably need to convince him.

Bills might be an issue as he keeps losing jobs but you can't really blame him for that, can you. Regaring chores, he only does the groceries, vacuuming, laundry, and changing sheets, everything else is up to you. Every Sunday you spend sleeping in & cuddling. Beelzebub visits you every week, usually on the weekends.

The rest of the characters are under the cut... long post

Barbatos: Hm... I think you'd probably need to move in the castle, or a small apartment very near. It is because of his job obviously, can't help it.

As he is the royal butler I imagine you wouldn't need to worry about bills / rent because. Yeah. Chores, on the other hand, fall on you very often - sometimes his job requires him to be there 24 hours a day. Even when he has more break time he'd rather not do chores at home as well because then he'd literally have no time left to spend with you. But when he can afford to do them, he definitely helps out & does them better than you (no shame in that tho he does this for a living)

Diavolo: Pretty obviously you move in the castle. No rent & no chores to worry about unless you are desperate to help Barbatos out.

He'd spend literally all his time with you if he could & Lucifer often scolds him for it. Neglecting work isn't a good idea right.

Every weekend there is something new to do, he spends lots of time thinking about how you are going to spend it. Also this would be the first time(s) you'd actually see him stress about work, since you live close enough to him now. (obviously he mentioned it many times before but that's a different experience) Solomon: Honestly you are free to choose where you'd want to live as he'd follow you anywhere.

Tbh I'm not sure about his finances but I'd like to imagine you don't have to worry about paying the bills. (as in: you have to work too if possible but that's ok)

He does his chores but he does them his way. If you do them differently he might comment but usually he just lets you be. It's entertaining to learn how many different ways there are to,,, doing dishes.

Simeon: Definitely prefers the Celestial Realm & I don't think there is much you can do to negotiate if you want to live with him. Similar to Solomon, paychecks aren't a big deal but it's something to consider; if possible you'd need to work to help out.

He has his favourite chores to do but occasionally he helps out with others as well, especially if he sees you might struggle / hate one.

a/n: for those wondering... no we didn't move in together yet because i'm still waiting for my vaccine... but once it's done we're ready<3 i'm a little bit nervous ngl but i'm so excited also dfgh

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moonrazeeclipse · 3 years

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Day at the Amusement Park.

The last time I went to an amusement park was when I was 12 years-old. My memories have been mostly shaky, but what I can remember was the happiness and joy I felt with my mother and father.

It’s been tough for me to have fun these days. Being a 23 year-old working a typical nine-to-five shift made it difficult to have time for myself. Stressed about the quotas, the numbers, job stability, and everything else in between. Good sleep has eluded me for months.

Then I look at my girlfriend, Nicha, and my hope has never been brighter.

Ah, Nicha. Everyone else knew and recognized her as Minnie, but the closest to her called her by her real name. If I thought an average office job was a grindfest, then hers was a gauntlet. Idol life meant she had to be up as early as 3 A.M. and she’d run through several sets of makeup, practice, interviews, and appearances. During one of her off days she and her members visited my building while I just so happen to be on coffee break. One funny stare and the next thing I knew, we were hiding our relationship from the whole world.

No matter how exhausted she got, she kept that same positive, happy energy as if she had unlimited battery life. Each occasional glance as I drove to the old amusement park, she was beaming, singing along to the songs on the radio, like she were a child. This was one of her rare off days where they didn’t have any schedules, so maybe that’s the reason why she’s extra joyful too.

The park itself hadn’t changed much since I last visited all those years back. The entrance looked rusted and devoid of any life or color. There seemed to be way fewer people visiting as well. Nicha offered to take me to that newer park with those virtual reality simulators, but I turned it down with a chuckle, saying that I wasn’t making enough money to spend a day there. Regardless, we entered the place, her hand holding mine, dragging me with the brightest smile on her face.

Whatever she wanted to do, I followed along. Nicha ran ahead of me, acting like a child and not a famous, recognizable idol. Being around me must be freeing for her; she could be herself when I’m with her. None of the rides were renovated or refashioned, which gave me that nostalgic feel. Because there weren’t that many visitors, waiting only took less than ten minutes for each ride. Despite my motion sickness, I powered through the first roller coaster without a problem. The second one? I recalled hurling up minutes after getting off that one as a child. Nicha screamed her heart out on the first coaster, but was overcome by fear on the second. She leaned into my chest while I was fighting every urge not to puke mid-ride. I sought a barf bag once we got off, making her laugh.

“Ahaha! You look hilarious!” Nicha mocked.

“Why are you gloating? Don’t act like you were hiding your face on my chest.” I retorted. She blushed in embarrassment before pretending to run away. No matter how much she loved to make fun of me, I couldn’t get upset. Her wholesome smiles made her a great person to hang out with.

Walking along the park, we came across a row of booths. These booths offered challenges in exchange for prizes. Dad won me a basketball as a reward back then. Even with age, one of the game masters somehow recognized me by my eyes.

“Hey, hey! It’s been a long time! You’re all grown now!” He said, calling my attention.

“Oh, hey. How did you recognize my face?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You have your father’s eyes, that’s why! How’s he doing?” He changed the subject.

“Umm, great I guess.” I honestly didn’t know how to answer, since I haven’t spoken to him in years.

Nicha suddenly came in from behind and hugged me. The game master’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Oh! Is this your girlfriend? Why don’t you step up and show her your father’s talent?” He challenged me on the spot. I sighed as Nicha moved right next to me. Her beaming eyes and bright smile gave me more pressure to do well.

I was poor at sports, so I wondered how bad I’d mess up at ring toss. I didn’t have deft hands like my dad, and I wasn’t practicing at all. I’m better with keyboards, I murmured under my breath as he gave me the rings. First toss. The ring hit the bottle. My eyes widened. Second toss. The bottle was a little more distant than the first. I threw the ring and to my surprise, it hit too. Shock drowned out my girlfriend’s cheers and the yell of the game master. One more ring, one more toss. The bottle was placed at a greater distance compared to the earlier ones. I was doing better than I thought, so maybe my luck would run out on this turn. I flung the last ring, and time seemingly slowed down as I released it from my grip.

One, two, three, four, five. Bingo.

Nicha hugged me in celebration. I made all three tosses as the game master applauded me. Wow. Honestly, that may have been divine intervention, considering how awful I am at these games. It must have been five minutes before I moved because I stayed frozen in place, unable to let my victory sink in.

“You do have your father’s genes in you after all! Go ahead and pick a prize.” The game master said, snapping me back to reality.

I turned to Nicha, implying that she could choose the prize. She took the hint and pointed at a gigantic brown teddy bear. The game master grabbed it from the shelf and handed it over to me. I gave the stuffed animal to her, and she buried her face on its belly.

“Aaahh it’s so fluffy! You’re really good at this, Minki!” She cuddled the bear as I just chuckled and waved goodbye to the game master.

The rest of our day at the park was just riding the rest of the attractions and eating an ice cream sandwich along the way. Nicha and I had so much fun together, refusing to let go of the teddy bear. The sun had set and nightfall came, and our time was almost up. But before we left, there was one more ride we hadn’t gone in. The ferris wheel.

The passenger cabins were suited for four people, so we hopped on one, including our stuffed animal. She placed the bear next to her as the wheel began moving. From where I sat I could see the bright lights of the highway, overlooking the specks of people thousands of feet in the air. Nicha looked out the window before turning to me, taking my hand.

“I’ve had so much fun with you today,” she said, caressing my hand gently and pecking it. “Thank you.”

I gazed into her eyes, gleaming brighter than the stars in the night sky. She stared back at me, looking at me the same way. Then something sprung in me to lock lips with her. Nicha sunk into the kiss, pulling me close and our tongues swirled with each other. She was sweeter and tastier than dessert. I cupped her cheek and she placed her palm on mine, running it across her face.

She broke the kiss and slowly spread my legs. I panicked a little because of the situation we’re in. Nicha feigned ignorance and unbuttoned my pants, pulling them down alongside my boxers.

“Nicha! We’re still in public, remember?”

“Your cock says otherwise,” she replied, slapping my hardened cock with her hand. “I’ve been missing you so much. I can’t help myself.”

She seized my balls, giving them a rub. “You’re full. You’ve been missing me too.”

I groaned as she kissed me from my balls, making her way up to my tip. Her soft lips felt so good on my shaft. She looked at me with widened eyes, satisfied with the pleasure she’s giving me. I slumped into my seat and closed my eyes, allowing the euphoria of her swirling tongue to override my brain. If that wasn’t enough, she added her sensual moans into her slurps, giving me tingles up my spine.

My hands flowed through her black locks, while the rest of my body just numbed in pleasure. I didn’t realize she took me in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks. Nicha bobbed her head back and forth, coating my shaft with her saliva. We didn’t care if anyone caught us in the lewd act. Nicha had her way with me and my body happily fell under control.

Pop. She released me from her mouth after blowing me off for a while. I was really sinking into that excitable feeling too. Appropriate timing too, as she finished up just as the car was about to reach ground level. I quickly buttoned up my pants as she pretended like she didn’t suck my cock leaving the pod.

We reached my car just as the park was closing, and she gave me a few pecks on the cheek. “When we get home, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Sure, baby. I’ll let you fuck me wherever you want.” The thought of her splayed body already riled me up and I couldn’t be any more excited to drive home.

I turned the key. Rough gruffs roared from the engine. Again. Gruffs. In frustration I slapped my hands against the steering wheel. The car couldn’t start. Fuck.

“I just had it checked last week,” I grumbled. It was second hand but I didn’t have any excuse. Nicha giggled. She was still smiling as she watched me suffer and curse my car out. Oh, no matter how terrible a day gets, you’re always the jovial one.

Conveniently there was a subway station nearby whose line started and ended at the park. We both got out of the car and decided to take the train home. Nicha still refused to let go of the teddy bear.

Entering one of the cars, we sat at the back end of the left row. All the walking wore our legs out, so I slumped down in my seat. Nicha set the bear at the corner chair before sitting beside me. Drowsiness began kicking in and soon enough, I fell into a deep sleep holding my girlfriend’s hand tightly.

I felt a sensation below my chest that woke me up. My eyes opened slowly, vision blurring my sight. I looked to my left and saw only the teddy bear. She probably went to the bathroom, I thought. I tried going back to sleep, but I felt that twitching in my stomach again. I looked down and to my surprise, my pants were on the ground. Nicha was on her knees, sucking my erect cock.

“Nicha! What did I say about doing this in public?” I whispered, trying to avoid causing a disturbance with the nearby passengers.

She responded by taking more of me into her mouth, making me moan with her humming sounds. “Mmph, I can’t help myself. Your cock rubbed on me as we slept.”

It took all of my willpower not to submit to pleasure, but I was able to scout the area. There weren’t a lot of people on this late train ride home, except a man wearing a business suit calling someone on his phone seated on the opposite aisle.

I slowly hopped from one chair to the next using the rail, keeping Nicha busy on my shaft without her letting go into it. My free hands lifted the stuffed bear from its seat and placed it to where I was sitting. The prized toy was huge enough to act as camouflage from unsuspecting train-goers.

“Yeah. Let’s discuss the business trip to Japan at the cafe. I’ll move up so you can spot me as I get off,” the man said as he stood up from his seat and trudged to the front.

I sighed a breath of relief, but that was only a temporary win. I looked below to see how Nicha was doing and my eyes widened. She stripped off her overalls as her bare legs were now exposed.

“Nicha!” I almost screamed, panicking at the situation she’d got us into. She giggles at my reaction before kissing my tip with her soft lips.

“While you were busy covering us up I took my overalls off. I really can’t wait for you to fill me inside.” She said matter-of-factly.

I groaned in annoyance but I couldn’t help myself. She was opening herself and I guess my patience ran out too.

“We still have a few more stops to go before our stop,” She added, stroking me with her fingers.

My psyche crumbled under her control again. I resisted her lips, but not her hands rapidly pumping my cock. I threw my head back and allowed the pleasure to jack my brain, grazing my hands on her hair again.

I must have drowned deeply to the delight of Nicha’s handjob that I ignored the dings and voice of the operator over the speaker indicating the train’s destination. My eyes, struggling to open, somehow caught a glimpse of a few new passengers entering the car. Quickly I bent over and took her overalls as well as my large coat and veiled my crotch. She continued jerking me off under the covers, eager to get me to orgasm. The commuters gave me either weird or neutral looks as they walked by. I gave them a gaze of exhaustion, pretending as if I was ill. I just hope they didn’t notice the suspicious bulge below me.

Most of the travelers moved onto another cabin but some of them sat a few rows behind or ahead of ours. Thankfully none decided to sit in the same aisle as us. My hands, which were positioned on my lap, were grabbed by Nicha. She led it down to her clit and I felt her wetness. Even with some bush she was clearly dripping.

“Fuck me, please,” She whispered, each word laced with lust. “I’m so wet for you, babe.”

I hoisted her from the floor and she wrapped her legs around my waist as I rose for a minute before sitting down with her on me. I carefully lined my shaft against her crotch before burying my cock in her walls. She let out a lengthy, low moan as I started ramming into her tight pussy. My hands snuck through her shirt, pinching her taut nipples, making her squeal.

I could feel her juices cream my hair as I grinded back and forth, making sure she feels every inch of my length. One hand escapes her shirt to cover her mouth, preventing her from letting out wild screams. I pulled her face close to mine, her features indicating pleasure as our lips met for a shaky, passionate kiss.

As we continued making out my eyes caught a glimpse of a stewardess slowly making her way across the cabin, punching passengers’ tickets. I broke the kiss off and drove Nicha into my chest, bundling our bodies with her overalls and my coat. The attendant reached us, her formal smile shifting to a confused look at the weird image ahead of her.

“Oh I’m sorry, is she okay?” She asked matter-of-factly.

“Y-yeah. She’s just a little ill, so I’m warming her up, that’s all.” I answered, nodding repeatedly.

Nicha sold my act by freezing in my arms. I reached into my coat and pulled out two tickets. She punched them and smiled as she walked by, believing my lie.

My girlfriend looked me in the eyes, lust ridden over them. I squeal as her finger reaches my cock, still buried in her soaked cunt, stroking me off. Through the pleasant sensation I managed to keep my eyes alert, watching the passengers slowly leave one by one at the next stop. Now it was just the two of us in this cable car.

“We’re alone. Fuck me,” She said as the train started moving again.

Perhaps her eagerness drove me to thrust into her a lot faster than I thought. I rocked back and forth on the chair, drilling her with my shaft. Nicha closed her eyes and let the pleasure fill her, her mouth making a wide ‘O’ shape. At this point we ran out of care for our surroundings, made clear by our audible moaning. Her hands claw my nape and hair deeply, her slender figure bouncing up and down my lap.

The tightness of her pussy, as well as her soft, seductive moans made it hard for me to keep control. I was losing another round to her lewdness and this one would be the hardest of them all. I was all but ready to climax, only slowing down my pumps to keep the euphoria last longer.

“F-fuck, I’m going to cum,” I whispered.

“On me. Fill me, please. Fill me with your cum.”

One. Two. Three. With a heavy groan I reached my peak. I felt shots of warm semen fill her womb. I pumped through my orgasm, shooting flecks of cum in her until I was drained. My hips stopped grinding. I put my head down in exhaustion over that intense, risky session. She cupped my face then kissed me on the cheek.

“T-that was s-so g-good. I can’t wait until we get home for more.”

There’s a clear trail of white on my chair and on my pants. My cock slipped out of her slit as I set her down on the ground.

“This is the last station! Thank you for riding with us.” The operator announced over the intercom. We’re almost at our destination.

I pulled her overalls off my coat and threw it at Nicha. “Put these on, we still have to walk home.”

“I don’t wanna,” she pouted. “I want to go home with your cum dripping down on me.”

I sighed. Nicha decided to be bratty on the way home, when everything was almost perfect and after all we’ve been through. But what else can I do?

I gave her my coat as I took her overalls and placed it in my bag. We got off the train with her wearing my coat, our mixed juices still running down her legs. We enjoyed our little walk home, having forgotten the prized teddy bear that she was attached to all day long, but that didn’t matter. As soon as we reached home, we stuffed our bodies into each other throughout the night.

—————

And that’s my first work done. I didn’t do a lot of editing as I was excited to publish this one. I finally decided to jump into the world of smut writing after being inspired for a while now. Thank you for reading!

#kpop smut #smut #g idle #minnie

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xkaileo · 3 years

Note

For the one shot request:

Sasuke coming back from his first redemption journey a couple of years after the war. He meets naruto at ichiraku, then Sakura happens to walk by. Naruto insists she join and she’s so happy sasuke is back, but keeps the interaction “friendly” not “young girl talking to her crush”. Quickly after she gets a scroll from a bird and has to go. Naruto then explains that Sakura is in really high demand and basically brags about all of her accomplishments and everything she does for the village as a medic but also as a jounin. Sasuke is proud and happy for her but it’s not until later when he sees her sparring someone really good (Tsunade, Kakashi, Yamato, anyone from Anbu) that he is s t u n n e d. Like jaw to the floor. He can’t resist watching and maybe activates his sharingan by accident. It is not until like 10 minutes have gone by that he notices her ANBU tattoo for the first time.

So of course canon-divergent. I know it’s super clunky the way I laid it out (can you tell I’m no author?) lol anyways I thought it would be really nice to get a look inside Sasuke’s head the first time he’s gotten the metaphorical wind knocked out of him by Sakura haha.

Ask and you shall receive, nonny! This one was fun to write, having Sasuke sort of be stunned by her and feel just the need to do something about it; it was fun to put him in a position where he had to push a little to get something out of Sakura. Enjoy!

She's A Hot Commodity

It was amazing how much the Hidden Leaf Village could change over two years. More than Sasuke had expected, honestly; he'd thought the village was done with its constant renovations after multiple attempts for it to be destroyed. Well, they'd nearly come close one time, though he'd stepped in to assist. Meteors falling off the moon… who would have thought?

His first stop was Ichiraku, as he'd made one promise: he was going to treat Naruto to a bowl of ramen when he got back. His blonde friend was already there, waving wildly as he approached.

"Sasuke! You're back!" Naruto gave him a hug in greeting, to which Sasuke begrudgingly allowed. He wasn't one for physical affection, but one hug from his best friend wouldn't be the end of the world. Plus, he'd never hear the end of it if he didn't. Naruto would spend their entire lunch pouting and whining about it if he was turned down.

As they were seated, both boys heard a familiar voice behind them, and it was… None other than Sakura. Sasuke couldn't help but stare, just for a moment. It'd been a long time. She'd grown out her hair and seemed to be wearing it up in a ponytail. When had it got so long? Now that he thought about it… It'd been a little longer when he left, but now it had to be almost to her waist. He hadn't seen it that long since they were kids. He… liked it, if he was honest.

"Sakura." He nodded in greeting, the corner of his lips twitching into a smile. He was glad to see her. Maybe now he'd be able to take things… a little further, to put it simply. He'd left her with nothing more than a promise, and this was the start of it. He was here. He'd returned. Whether he would stay for an extended period was another question, but he did plan to offer for her to accompany him this time. He just had… a few errands to take care of before he left again.

"Sasuke! It's been so long!" Sakura came up between them and threw her arms over his and Naruto's shoulders, giggling as she was hanging out between them. "Would you look at that? My two favourite dorks are having lunch together. You know, Sasuke, if he's got you here against your will, all you have to do is ask." Well… Ramen usually would have been against his will, but this time, it wasn't. He was surprised when she leaned closer to his ear, her voice no more than a whisper.

"There's a new place that opened that serves rice balls if you need an escape." She clapped him on the back before turning to Naruto, who'd caught her attention.

"Sakura, join us!" He encouraged, and her expression went thoughtful for a moment before she agreed. Naruto shifted down one seat, allowing Sakura to sit between them. Sasuke didn't want to admit he was glad Naruto had shifted down; he wanted to sit next to Sakura, but he wasn't sure if she would have done that of her own accord. He couldn't blame her; it'd been a long time since they'd spoken, and there was… a lot they needed to talk about. She seemed… different. Not unfriendly, but there was something different about the way she was talking to him. No more blushing or bashful looks in his direction. He'd expected that much from her, but… was it possible something had happened?

Maybe… maybe she'd moved on. He didn't want to think that, but it seemed to be a possibility. Nevertheless, if that were Sakura's decision, that would have to be how things were. Friends were better than absolutely nothing.

Just as she was about to order, the sound of a messenger hawk could be heard, interrupting their conversation. Naruto and Sakura had been chatting animatedly, Naruto having made some dumb comment that Sakura was reaming him for while Sasuke chuckled at their antics. At least some things never change. He's still opening his mouth when he should be shutting it, and she's putting him in his place… as usual.

"Oh… I'm sorry, guys." Sakura's expression turned to a frown. "This is for me, and it's urgent. I have to get going. Sorry again. Let's pick another day to get ramen together as a team, though, okay? And… it's good to see you back, Sasuke." She gave him a smile that lit up her whole face, and it made his heart skip a beat. She was different, sure, but it was… nice. It made him feel a bit giddy.

"Yeah… Shoulda seen that one coming," Naruto admitted.

"Does that happen a lot?" Sasuke was genuinely curious. He knew Sakura was a hard worker, but she always knew how to make time for her friends. It seemed out of the ordinary for her to disappear so suddenly. If it was the hospital, wasn't Tsunade there to help out?

"Yeah, it kinda does. Sakura's kind of a big deal around the village now. It makes me a little jealous." Naruto, jealous? Sasuke wondered just how important she was, but as always, Naruto had the explanation. "She's done so much stuff! She opened a clinic for all the kids in the village that lost parents during the war, and she's been working with Ino and some professionals to get them the help they need. Just so they don't feel alone, ya know? You and I both know no one deserves to feel like that." After all, they were the very same kinds of kids that that clinic was helping. Sasuke was shocked and also touched. Had Sakura done all that in two years?

"Oh yeah! And she works super hard at the hospital. She's one of the only medical ninja in the village who's allowed to take missions alone, and that's a huge deal! She's been going to all kinds of places on missions, mostly deliveries or to provide medical help, but I swear she's always gone on a mission! She keeps asking me to water her plants like… every week." Naruto didn't mind her asking that, though. He liked taking care of them. Gardening was oddly calming.

"Wow," Sasuke remarked. It was not what he would have expected out of Sakura… not precisely, that is. He knew she was brilliant, but looking back to how they were as kids… no, when they'd first been put on a team, he never would have expected that much out of her. "Has she been doing anything else?"

"Oh yeah! She mentioned somethin' about taking on a team of genin, too. I think she'd make a great teacher, don'tcha think?" Naruto elbowed Sasuke gently, earning a grunt out of him and a nod in response. Sakura would make a stellar teacher. If she took on a trio of genin as their Jounin sensei, then they would undoubtedly be a force to be reckoned with.

He was… proud of her, honestly. To think she’d come so far from her capabilities when they were kids… she was so incredibly talented, it even made him a little jealous. He’d been a prodigy, but to see her hard work coming to fruition was exceptional. She was amazing. More impressive than he was expecting.

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

It’d been days since he’d last seen Sakura, and after only briefly meeting her, he decided the best way to pass the time until she returned was training. He liked training; it kept him in shape, allowed him to practice living life with just one arm, and helped him clear his mind when it got too tumultuous to handle. Making his way to the training grounds, he was stopped by a flicker of familiar chakra that crossed the vision of his left eye.

Sakura? She was… Training? He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. That, and he found himself deeply intrigued. Like a curious cat, he made his way to the edge of the trees, remaining at a safe distance where he could watch. It looked like she was training with Kakashi, whom he would have considered a force to be reckoned with. He was a former ANBU, after all.

Wait… no. It wasn’t just Kakashi there. Yamato was there, too, and… wait, was Sakura taking them both on at the same time? His curiosity was piqued enough that he activated his Sharingan, using it to track her movements; in high-speed fights like these, it was a necessity. He would've never been able to keep up with Sakura's motions otherwise.

He watched her, amazed beyond belief. Every movement she made was fluid, each motion flowing into the next like an unbreakable chain. There was no hesitation or consideration; she moved without thinking, her body reacting with an impeccable natural flow. He’d never seen such fluid movements before, not even back during the war. What had she done since he’d been gone? He knew she was a Jounin now, but this… no, she had to be more than that. She was well above the level of a Jounin. It was almost an insult to put her that low.

He stared for longer than he’d expected, watching as she evaded both Yamato and Kakashi’s tactics, dancing around them like they were nothing. He watched as her long, pink hair flowed with every movement, even the occasional piece sticking to the sweat that formed on her brow. Even as she turned, he could see the concentration in her gaze, focusing on every motion. There was strength and power in the way she moved. There was one thing that bothered him, though, one thing he couldn't shake.

When had Sakura become so beautiful? He remembered her being cute when they were kids, though he hadn't been in the right state of mind to say anything about it. He'd also noticed she was prettier as they got older, but he'd never been able to take the time to appreciate it. Now, staring at her, he realized how attractive she was. He was taken aback by what he was seeing. It made his cheeks flush, made his heart race, and also made his heart wrench. Maybe… maybe he'd have to say something to her: something direct, this time.

It wasn’t until Sakura stopped, calling a halt to her training with Yamato and Kakashi to take a breather, that he noticed something else. He knew that symbol. Other Jounin he knew and had met bore it too. This wasn’t friendly training between three Jounin. It was so much more than that. But it made Sasuke wonder…

When did Sakura decide to join the ANBU? That was undoubtedly one of the last things he'd expected of her. As he stared at her training, he hadn't realized her gaze had turned in his direction; once he did, he ducked behind one of the trees, heart beating rapidly. Had she seen him? Had she caught him staring so openly at her? He hoped not. The last thing he wanted was to seem weird or creepy. One thing he did know was that Sakura's temper was terrifying, and he would have preferred not to be on her bad side.

"You're not doing a very good job of hiding, Sasuke." He looked up to see her above him on one of the branches, a smile teasing her lips. He startled at the sound of her voice, grumbling under his breath and turning away as the faintest shade of pink dusted his cheeks. Damn. She really was good. She'd caught even him off-guard.

"I wasn't hiding," he lied. Oh, he knew he was hiding, all right. He simply refused to admit it. "I thought this training ground was empty. I was mistaken." He heard her feet land in front of him, which urged him to keep his face hidden from her; he didn't want her to see just how much his cheeks had coloured at her appearance. It was all he could do not to look back and stare, admiring every inch of her toned figure.

"You're also not very good at lying," she teased further, taking a step toward him. "What's got you all flustered?" Damn. She hadn't missed it.

"It's hot outside." Technically not a lie; it was a scorching summer day, and he was wearing a heavy cloak. "I'm just flushed from the heat." Definitely a lie. His cloak was designed to keep heat in and keep cooler air closer to his body, like a cat's fur coat. It kept him comfortably thermoregulated.

"Liar," she accused.

"Tch." He wasn't going to dignify that with a response. She giggled in response to his gruff comment, leaving him to straighten as if he were on his way. She… was in his way, though, which meant he had to brush past her to leave. As his eye opened, he realized she was closer than before. He could smell her from where he stood. Her skin glistened with the faintest layer of sweat from her training, hair sticking to her cheeks and forehead. It didn't bother him; he was used to much worse sights.

Nevertheless, her skin was glowing from the exercise, and the way her green eyes sparkled made her look prettier. So pretty, he could feel his heart racing. He couldn't bring himself to move. If he so much as touched her, he knew what he'd end up doing.

"Sasuke, are you… okay?" Her head tilted to the side, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Stop it, he tried to scold her mentally, knowing it wouldn't work.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about it." Liar. With one sharp breath, he took a step forward, his hand reaching to brush her out of the way gently. She stepped in front of him, stopping him and grasping at his wrist. He remembered that grasp; it was the same way he'd done it to her years ago, a firm but gentle grip. She released it after he stopped moving. Their gazes drew together instinctively; no words needed to be spoken between them. Sasuke felt a growing sense of worry after what he'd realized. Sakura was ANBU. That meant she put her life on the line every day, every mission, everything. It meant that at any moment when she wasn't on a mission, the Hokage could call her for one, and it could be the last time anyone would see her.

He couldn't wait. The moment Sakura released his wrist from her grasp, he reached up, tangling his fingers in her hair as need took precedence over logic. His lips crashed against hers fiercely, years of restrained emotions flaring in his chest as he kissed her. She seemed surprised for a split second but was quick to reciprocate; he felt her hands lock around his neck, leading him to skim a hand down her back, pulling her body tighter against his. At some point, he turned, pressing her back against the tree as they continued their motions, eventually breaking apart to breathe, staring at one another with wordless affirmations.

#sasusaku #sasusaku oneshot #sasusaku fanfic #sasusaku fanfiction #sasukexsakura #sakuraxsasuke #sakura haruno #naruto shippuden #anbu sakura #sasuke uchiha #uchiha sakura #sakuraharuno #harunosakura #sasukeuchiha #uchihasasuke #sakura uchiha #sakurauchiha #uchihasakura #xkaileo oneshots

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gubler-me-up · 4 years

Text

Heavy Lifting

Request: Okay for the Spencer prompt thingy? Reader has been at the BAU for a few years and has always been dorky and nerdy like Spencer however something comes up (idk what, maybe a group trip, some training thing, Moving house, I’m not sure) where reader rolls up their sleeves and picks up something super heavy with ease and Spencer is just in awe and bright red and Morgan’s probably pissing himself laughing in a corner whilst Spencer is looking respectfully

A/N: I hope I’m writing your description properly and I really hope you like it! Thanks again for submitting your request, I appreciate it a ton :)

Category: Fluff, cuteness

Content warning: Nothing tbh maybe a mildly inappropriate joke idk

Word count: 1.8k

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Spending the last few years with the bureau had been a wonderful experience for you. You got to work with amazing coworkers who were pretty much family, got to help solve crimes before they turned tragic and also allowed you to break out of your shell a bit. The greatest perk of all was it paid you enough to move into a better apartment.

Your new apartment was everything you could ask for. It had a gorgeous kitchen, a bigger bedroom, no leaks in the roof and definitely no weird neighbours. Well, you were just guessing, but hopeful everyone in your apartment complex was nice.

With a new apartment came piles of boxes and furniture to move. Good thing you had a strong friend like Derek Morgan to help you out and someone like Spencer Reid to be there for moral support. If you were being honest with yourself for once you were just glad Reid offered to come along. You had originally asked Morgan for his help since he knew about home renovations and the moving process. It so happened Reid was in earshot of your conversation and quickly turned around to offer his assistance.

As expected Morgan bellowed a laugh half the bureau could hear. Reid quarrelled with him, stating how beneficial it would be for him to help and went on about how lifting boxes wasn’t a tough skill. To break up their disagreement you interjected and told Reid you would love if he came. He instantly shut up and his cheeks became a noticeable red as he asked if I was sure.

You had never really interjected your voice between an argument before, not even the smallest of ones like this. Morgan definitely took note of it as well as he stared intently between you and Reid. You nodded and reassured him you wanted him there.

This was planned two weeks ago and every day you were anxiously awaiting to see if Reid would change his mind. It wasn’t his thing to do heavy lifting all day and you were worried you had gotten him into something he wasn’t comfortable with. Even though he offered, you felt as if he only did it to prove himself capable of heavy-duty labour. Was he proving himself to you?

You waited on the driver’s side of the moving truck. You checked the time on your watch since you felt as if you had been waiting for a while. 11:45 a.m. They were supposed to meet you outside your new place 15 minutes ago. Had they changed their mind?

Before you could overthink their tardiness, you saw Morgan’s SUV pull up across the street. You smiled as you opened up the door to hop out. You saw Morgan and Reid step out of the car. They were having a little dispute as usual with Reid looking annoyed and Morgan casually brushing him off.

You waved. “Hey, guys.”

Reid gave a quick wave back. “Hey, Y/N. Sorry, we’re late, but Morgan decided he needed an extra half an hour to sleep.”

You smiled and shook your head. “It’s okay, I should have known asking for help at 11 a.m. on a Saturday would lead to something like this.”

“See, Reid, that’s what you call someone who’s understanding,” Morgan said as he walked to the back of your moving truck.

Reid rolled his eyes. “Again, I’m sorry Morgan made us late, Y/N. I hope you weren’t waiting for too long.”

You shook your head. “Not for too long. I’m just kinda glad you didn’t change your mind.”

Reid widened his eyes in shock. “Why did you think I’d change my mind?”

You shrugged and put on your famous awkward smile. “I don’t know. Since you volunteered and you were running late, I just-”

“First of all, Morgan’s the reason why we’re late. If I wasn’t waiting for him to pick me up like we planned I would have been here on time if not earlier for you.”

You blushed at what he said and he soon did too as he realized what he said. Before you two could engage in a stuttering, rambling mess of speech, Morgan called you both.

“Hey, nerd one and two, a little help would be appreciated,” he said.

You and Reid glanced at each other, awkwardly smiled and then hurried over to the moving truck. Morgan shook his head as he chuckled to himself. He opened the truck and was taken aback by the amount of stuff you had to move in.

“Y/N, I wasn’t expecting you to have so much stuff,” Morgan said.

“I got rid of half my stuff before moving, so all of these things are near and dear to me,” you explained.

Reid pointed to a random box. “What’s in that box?”

“Geography textbooks. Mainly geography of the U.S. and I believe there are some rare ones covering Europe’s geography if I’m not mistaken.”

“Wow, those are keepers,” Reid said in amazement.

“Geography textbooks? Why do you even have those? For fun?” Morgan joked.

You playfully rolled your eyes. “I think you forget I had a double major in Geography and Criminology, Derek. You know, one of my many specialities I bring to the team.”

Morgan playfully put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, alright, you and pretty boy have the same unusual kink for geographic criminology, but what explains that?”

You looked at the box Morgan pointed his finger to. The label for the box was facing outward to read “Doctor Who figurines.” You nervously giggled.

“What can I say? I’m a huge fan,” you said.

“You told me about your Star Trek figurine collection, but you never told me you had a Doctor Who figurine collection. You’ve been holding out on me, Y/N,” Reid said as he looked at you in amazement.

You felt the fiery blush come back to your cheeks as his big, hazel eyes stared longingly at you. He always stared at you with such amazement, but this time around seemed as if he was almost hypnotized. His gaze made you think he was fascinated by more than just your extensive Doctor Who and Star Trek figurines.

“Dork’s who flock together, stay together. How about you two stop drooling over figurines and let’s start moving some of them,” Morgan commented as he picked up the Doctor Who figurine box.

Reid broke his gaze as you both refocused on the task at hand. Even though you didn’t want him to take his eyes off of you, they were there to help you move in. You saw Reid pick up a box labelled kitchen pots and pans. You were pretty impressed considering it was a pretty heavy box and he lifted it with ease.

You reached for the box filled with your geography textbooks. Before you could pick it up you heard Morgan and Reid trying to stop you.

“Whoa there, Y/N. Let’s trade boxes," Morgan said as he gave you his box and grabbed the box you were about to grab.

“You don’t think I can carry it?” You questioned.

You looked at Morgan, to Reid and back to Morgan. They both had a weary face on. Yes, you stood at 5’3 and weighed about 130, but they didn’t have to look at you as if you were fragile.

“Put the box down on the ground,” you demanded.

“But-”

“Now, Derek. Please,” you said in a slightly demanding tone.

Morgan had never heard you say something with such base in your voice before. He had no choice but to follow your command.

“Thank you,” you said.

You got into a squatting position in front of the box. You made sure your back was straight and your knees were bent at a 90-degree angle. You grabbed the box at its sides, took a deep breath and lifted it with no issue.

You looked towards Morgan to see if he was surprised at you lifting the box. He didn’t seem surprised at all. He was too busy holding back laughter. For a second you thought you made a weird face or you had looked stupid while lifting the box until you realized he wasn’t laughing at you, but behind you.

You turned around to see a red Reid trying not to look you directly in the eyes. You looked back at Morgan with a confused look. You wanted in on the joke as well.

“What’s so funny?” You asked.

“Nothing, nothing. I just think Reid wasn’t ready to see you drop it low like that,” Morgan said while letting out his laugh.

You looked back at Reid who seemed even redder. You gave him a shy smile as you didn’t even realize you were squatting in front of him. You just hoped your shorts didn’t ride down to expose your thong.

“Is that true?” You asked.

Reid shook his head. “No-I mean-yes-I mean, I was just very impressed by your form. It’s the proper physiological position to prevent muscle tears and slipped discs in the spine.”

You giggled. “I know. I’ve been powerlifting for a couple of months now. Who do you think loaded this truck up?”

Morgan was taken aback. “You power lift? I would have never guessed miss shy girl. Next time I’ll let you kick down the door as Reid watches you from behind.”

Reid let out a sound to try and silence Morgan. Well, that’s what you guessed the sound was anyway. You laughed at the both of them as you started walking towards the apartment entrance with the two of them trailing behind. Before all of you reached the entrance, you stopped and turned around. They both abruptly stopped in their tracks by your sudden halt.

You turned around to look at Reid. “You know if you want we can both go and work on our physiological positions at the gym.”

Morgan let out a laugh as Reid stood there completely dumbfounded by your sudden proposal. You don’t think he had never seen you propose a concept so boldly, but you thought it was the right time. You looked keenly into his eyes and he sheepishly smiled.

“Uh, of course,” he responded.

“I’m glad you’re both getting your “physiological positions” in order,” Morgan joked.

You rolled your eyes at his joke. You truly didn’t mean it in that way, but if it led to that direction who were you to say no to the universe. You turned around to start walking again.

“Maybe you can get your physiological position to be better. I saw your arms shaking as you picked up those figurines,” you said with a giggle.

“I think I preferred the shy, reserved you better, Y/N,” Morgan said.

“Don’t listen to him, Y/N. A good few gym sessions will give us enough strength to defeat Derek Morgan and his bad jokes once and for all,” Reid said.

“Bring it, kids. My fists will be waiting with your names on them.”

—–

MASTERLIST

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dragon-kazansky · 3 years

Text

Made with love | Helmut Zemo

Chef Zemo AU! 👨‍🍳

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 7

You knock on the hotel door twice, firmly. Wanda opened the door swiftly. She had been waiting. You were grinning as you entered the room and all kinds of thoughts were running through her head.

"What happened?"

She follows you over to the beds and watches as you sit down, scrambling to take off your shoes and sit back against the headboard. She got comfortable on her own bed again, having been sat there watching TV while she waited for you.

"We kissed."

The squeal that she made did not sound even remotely human. There was a huge grin on her face as she leaned forward. Wanda to hear every detail.

"What happened? Tell me!"

"Well, we got to The Iron Grill. Helmut was a perfect gentleman, pulling out my seat for me. Stark made a speech that I couldn't care less about, and then out cane the food. It was a taste testing session, basically."

"Taste testing?"

"Yeah, their were samples of every main course meal on his menu. We're talking about two dozen tables each sampling the same things. Then he brought out deserts for us to pick from. Helmut and I chose one each and sampled each others deserts just to try. Honestly, the sweets were the best part. The menu was otherwise standard and not all that interesting."

"Then there can't possibly be anything to worry about," she tilts her head at you.

"Well, about that..."

Her brow furrows as she looks at you. A sudden dread filled her as she waited for your words. Something was very early wrong here.

"Tony Stark had us back at the end when it was all over. He wanted to buy Escorpión Morado from Helmut, claiming he might as well do it now before it fails. He said he would buy it anyway, renovate it to accompany The Iron Grill."

"What? The audacity of that man! What did Zemo do?"

"Well, he got angry, of course! The biggest insult that could be offered was just spoken. You can't just buy Helmut's family business and think that's OK! I stepped in before Stark could any more damage, I defended Helmut ad his restaurant. Then we left. Helmut pulled me to the side and looked at me like I was the only other person in the world. He kissed me and told me to stay

"He is so in love with you."

You chuckle softly.

"What are you going to do?"

You look Wanda on the eye, smiling.

"I'm going to stay."

She leaps off the bed and collides into you, arms wrapping around you as you both both laugh. Wanda is so happy for you. She's so proud of you.

The next morning, over breakfast, Wanda tells you about some of the places she had found for you. She has meant it when she said she would look for somewhere for you.

You were glad she did.

You spent most of the day looking at the places she had found. It was quite fun looking around the apartments with her.

Lunch time rolled around and of course you both headed to your favourite spot. The doors were open and waiting for you.

Helmut was at the bar, talking to Sam, but they both stopped when they saw someone entering.

Suddenly, no one else mattered. You both looked at each other and smiled. Wanda tries not to make a fuss, but she was ecstatic to see her best friend hopelessly in love with the chef in front of them.

Helmut walks around the bar and comes to stand in front of you.

"Hello."

You both just smile at each. His hands reach out for yours and he brings them to his lips, kissing them both.

Helmut wasn't going to hold back.

"How are you?" You ask, very much aware of the other people in the room watching.

"I'm good, I promise."

"Good."

You lift one hand to the side of his face and caress his cheek softly. He melts into your touch, holding your hand there.

Wanda coughs into her fist.

You both drop your hands and turn to her. Sam also looking rather smug from behind the bar.

"What can I get for you?" Helmut asks, making his way back to Sam's side. Wanda and yourself sit at the bar.

"Surprise us," you say, smiling.

Helmut chuckles and nods. He looks at you for a moment before disappearing into the kitchen.

Wanda and Sam share a look.

Sam fixes you both a drink.

"So, what have you two been up to then?"

"We were looking at apartments," Wanda tells him.

"Apartments? You're thinking of moving here?"

"I am, yeah," you say, smiling down at the counter.

"Zemo really got through to you, didn't he?" He grins.

You glance up at him.

"Yes, he did. I think... I think he needs me, now more than ever. His pride and joy is being threatened and we have to do something to save it."

"No wonder he's so in love with you," Sam chuckles.

The more they say it, the more embarrassing it becomes, but also, the more true it feels.

Helmut returns with two dishes in hand, he places them down in front of you and comes to stand opposite you.

"Enjoy," he whispers, voice a little raspy, and most definitely sexy. Did he do that on purpose?

You glance at him before tucking in.

"Thank you."

As always the food is delicious.

Wanda and Sam end up conversing with each other as you and Helmut get lost in your own conversation. He can see only you when you're in the room.

"Wanda and I were looking at apartments," you tell him.

Helmut's smile seems to grow.

"You're going to stay?"

"Yes."

He leans over the bar and captures your lips in a fierce kiss. You smile into it, no longer caring about Wanda sitting right beside you.

You're so very happy!

"Then don't look any further," Helmut says, pulling away, but not too far away. He wanted to remain close to you.

"Why?"

"Because you could come live with me. I don't live far. My place is big enough for the two of us."

"Are you asking me to move in with you?"

"Only if you're comfortable doing so. I don't mean to move things along so quickly, but I have a spare room you can have."

You glance at Wanda.

She nods rather quickly.

Your eyes meet with Helmut's again and you smile.

"Alright."

Just when he thinks you can't make him any happier, you do. He kisses you again. You're laughing softly as you kiss him back, reaching for his hands that were resting on either side of your face.

"I must be the luckiest man alive."

You chuckle, lowering his hands and smiling at him.

"I would say I'm the lucky one."

"You two are so cute, its sickening," Wanda grins.

Both yourself and Zemo laugh. He stands upright, the distance between you feeling large now.

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this," you say, going back to your unfinished meal.

"I'm glad you are," Zemo smiles.

"I'll make sure they move in quickly," Wanda chimes in.

"Enough about me, what are we going to do about Stark?" You look at Zemo.

"What can I do? He is sure he is going to be a success here and that I will fall. Everything my father created will just fade into nothing and I'll have to go elsewhere. I'll work for Stark when Hell freezes over," he sighs.

"Then, we have to do something big."

"Like what?" Wanda asks, looking at you.

"What if we give Escorpión Morado a make over of our own? Reinvent the menu, have a grand opening of our own. Remind people that this place is here."

Helmut looks at you at so softly.

"You would help me do that?"

"Of course! I need time to become a citizen of Sokovia, but then I'm all yours!" You smile at him.

"All mine?"

"...yes."

If it weren't for Wanda and Sam looking at him, he would kissed you again.

"Then we better get started," Wanda said, pulling out her phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking up what we have to do to make you a citizen. You'll move in with tall, dark, and handsome chef over here, work in the beat restaurant in the country, and live happily ever after!" She grins.

"This isn't a fairytale, Wanda," you laugh.

"It's much better than that," Helmut said, looking at you with big soft eyes.

"I'm really doing this."

"Yes, you are."

You smile at him.

For the rest if your stay in Sokovia, you visit the restaurant every day. Helmut shows you where his apartment is, letting you look around. It's very him. Wanda gets all the details you'll need for moving here, and before you know it, you're standing outside the airport with Zemo's arms around you.

"Next time you come back, you'll be here to stay."

"Yes. Just like you asked me to," you say, softly in his ear.

"Don't keep me waiting too long."

"I won't. I'll be back before you know it."

You pull away from one another to look at each other. He has this huge goofy grin on his face as he looks at you.

"I want to tell you something, but I don't know if it's the time to say it," he says, almost whispering.

"What is it?"

He licks his bottom lip, seemingly quite nervous. His eyes flicker between yours, trying to make up his mind on if he should say it or not.

He's going to say it.

"I love you."

You smile.

You kiss him, hands tugging at his collar to bring him to you. His hands settle on you as he kisses you back just as urgently.

"I love you too," you say, breaking away from him.

"We to go!" Wanda calls from behind you.

"I'll see you soon," you tell him.

"I'll be waiting for you!"

You regretfully let go of him and grab your bags. Helmut watches you as you wall with Wanda into the airport. He hates seeing you leave again, but knows that when you come back, you'll be coming back to him, to stay.

You blow a kiss at him before you disappear from sight.

He smiles.

Things feel like they're turning out for the better, and he feels over the moon.

@namethathasnotbeentaken @belle82devart @cathrin2405 @lieutenantn @wilder-fangirl @latenightartist-author @lucky-luck-lucky @hb8301 @charistory @thatoneartgalsstuff @thesuitkovian @malkaviangirl @zemosimp420 @realremyd @the-chaotic-cow @lostghostgirl94 @zafiro-draco @lazygurl05 @pinkcutiepiee @goddessofmischief03 @whovianayesha @myybebe @awesomesauce-abbie @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing @swooning-for-mc-avoy @nonamec0s @apparrio @scuttle-buttle @alex-the-nb @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @greeneyedblondie44

#helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo #marvel #au #chef zemo au

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gusu-emilu · 3 years

Link

Whumptober No.2

Ship: Xue Yang / Xiao Xingchen Rating: T Wordcount: 1421 Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Whump, Angst with a Bit of Fluff, Xue Yang POV Summary: One time Xiao Xingchen healed Xue Yang, and one time he healed Chengmei.

He sinks back into the feeling of Xiao Xingchen pressed against him. Even after living with him for so long, Xue Yang still finds himself startled at the comfort the daozhang’s presence brings.

Comfort from a man who would have seen him murdered.

Seen Xue Yang murdered, that is.

The fuckers had been too cowardly to kill Xue Yang in one clean blow.

Instead, they’d left him on the ground, arms and legs bound, leashed to a tree to slowly choke. The rope binding him is thin but strong, charmed to gradually cut into the skin and to suppress spiritual power, designed to slowly kill.

But the cultivators who captured him are just from some no-name sect. The charm they cast on the rope is mediocre. Potentially breakable.

Not that Xue Yang would be able to do much with his spiritual power given how much blood he’s lost. Otherwise, even his piecemeal cultivation abilities, scraped together for survival over the years, would be strong enough to break these binds—and then rip out the spines of the cultivators who dared touch him, vertebra by vertebra.

As he squirms against his restraints, he thinks about how those bastards will turn him in to the meathead leader of the Nie Clan once he’s dead, and have a little celebration praising themselves for their righteousness.

But where’s their righteousness now, while Xue Yang chokes and bleeds out on the forest floor? Where are their clan values? Xue Yang knows they aren’t stuffy inner disciples of a major sect—just some backwoods lowlifes—but they could at least kill him cleanly and quietly with the integrity that every hypocrite clan sings about.

And if they can’t kill Xue Yang with integrity, they can at least kill him right—by getting some fun out of it.

Instead, Xue Yang’s murderers are too cowardly to look him in the eye while he dies. They’ll come back for him when he’s fully choked out.

And he might be choked out soon. The coarse rope constricts tighter around his neck each time he struggles, closing in on each breath that claws its way down to his lungs.

Tighter.

Tighter, until it squeezes out all thought.

Until Xue Yang’s entire world is one strip of rope cut into his skin and one shrinking column of air.

Primal fear smothers him like a rancid stench as the leash crushes his throat.

He knows struggling will only constrict the rope more. But he can’t fight the instinct to trash against his restraints, desperate for air.

He’s going to die here.

Tighter—

The rope loosens.

Xue Yang coughs and gasps for breath, folding forward as his stomach lurches. But he forces himself to look up immediately, to prepare to fight tooth and nail against this new threat—

“Who did this to you?” asks a man in flowing white robes, gleaming sword in hand. The man’s face is in shadow, only a few smooth contours rimmed by moonlight.

But it’s enough for Xue Yang to recognize him.

“Xiao Xingchen,” he hisses, voice hoarse, barely able to speak. Blood trickles out the corner of his mouth as he smirks.

“Who did this to you?” Xiao Xingchen repeats, firmer.

Xue Yang cocks an eyebrow. “What?” He coughs blood. “Not going to untie the rest of me? Or would you rather leave me to slither from now on?”

Xiao Xingchen doesn’t answer. Instead, he squats down next to Xue Yang and sends a stream of spiritual energy into him, healing him, a rush of cool sweetness like pilfered candy.

Xue Yang recoils, then jerks, trying to knock Xiao Xingchen away. But the stubborn daozhang only dodges and grabs him by the shoulder, holding him steady while forcing spiritual energy in through the battered skin on his back.

“Let go of me,” Xue Yang growls. “I don’t want your useless qi inside me.”

“You will die of blood loss without immediate healing.”

“Isn’t that what you want?”

“No,” Xiao Xingchen answers, sounding distressed. Sounding surprised that Xue Yang asked such a question.

“No?” Xue Yang echoes, throat still sore. “Liar!”

Xue Yang stops struggling and accepts the spiritual energy, using the strength from it to devote all his focus to forcing Xiao Xingchen to acknowledge his hypocrisy.

“You think you’re any better than the bastards who did this to me? What are you planning to do with me after you so graciously heal me?”

“Turn you in for your crimes.”

“And that’s justice?”

“It’s what must be done.”

“‘It’s what must be done,’“ Xue Yang mimics. “You know good and well they’ll murder me the moment you hand me over. Why bother helping now? Is it only right for me to be murdered if you decide when?”

“It is not my decision—”

With spiritual energy the daozhang so kindly gifted him, Xue Yang diverts his new qi from healing his wounds to create a blast of energy. The binds snap off. He slams his body into Xiao Xingchen, knocking him to the ground.

Every sinew in Xue Yang’s body protests movement as light-headedness overtakes him. His injuries could've used the spiritual energy he spent on escaping.

But he still manages to jump out of reach before Xiao Xingchen reacts. After all, physical weakness had never held him back.

People like Xiao Xingchen had held him back.

“Here’s a lesson for you, daozhang!” Xue Yang calls as he slips deeper into the darkness of the forest. “Unlike you, I can show mercy and spare your life. You can never be righteous by killing me now!”

* * *

“Chengmei,” Xiao Xingchen croons fondly in his ear. “You can’t keep doing this.”

"Can't keep what? Being irresistible? You're the one deciding to touch me."

"I'm not—" Xiao Xingchen huffs and lifts his hand from Xue Yang's back, still so easy to fluster. "You know what I mean."

Xue Yang shakes his head, a crooked smile playing on his lips. Xiao Xingchen is treating an injury he'd gotten by falling and gouging a wound in his back while changing the roofing.

“The Coffin House needs renovations,” Xue Yang says. “Unless you manage to anger a spirit who gets revenge by a feng shui makeover of the nearest building, you’re going to have to rely on me to fix things around here.”

Xiao Xingchen chuckles and leans forward, wrapping himself around Xue Yang from behind, chin resting on his bare shoulder. With one hand he rubs soothing circles of spiritual energy into Xue Yang’s back.

Xue Yang soaks in the pleasant sensation. Absorbs the warmth from Xiao Xingchen’s body and the way the heat intertwines with the coolness of spiritual energy. Relaxes into the satisfaction of the daozhang healing him.

Then, like blood splattered on white stone, the long-buried memory of Xiao Xingchen’s hand pressed against his back rushes back into his mind. Drowns him in that unbearable moment of vulnerability that he’s tried so hard to forget—the feeling of being on the brink of death, his life in his enemy’s hands, healed by someone who only intends to kill him again.

The unbearable vulnerability still eats at Xue Yang, making him restless with the memory flaring up in his mind. Instinctively, he draws as much air into his lungs as he can, just to reassure himself that he still can.

He sinks back into the feeling of Xiao Xingchen pressed against him. Even after living with him for so long, Xue Yang still finds himself startled at the comfort the daozhang’s presence brings.

Comfort from a man who would have seen him murdered.

Seen Xue Yang murdered, that is.

The daozhang has already found Chengmei on the brink of death, and never once tried to harm him. Instead, he healed Chengmei and has asked for nothing in return but stories and companionship. And the occasional stint babysitting A-Qing or buying groceries.

Xue Yang tells himself that makes Xiao Xingchen more of a hypocrite than ever—that Chengmei gets everything for free but Xue Yang doesn’t—but somehow can’t fully convince himself.

“You can’t keep injuring yourself while working,” Xiao Xingchen says, “You even aggravated your old leg injury last time you—”

“I’m fine, daozhang. I think you’re inventing these injuries so you can steal me from my work and make me take my shirt off.”

Xiao Xingchen laughs again, a soft, comforting rumble against Xue Yang’s back, and slips an arm around Xue Yang. Xue Yang leans back, melting into the daozhang’s embrace.

Xiao Xingchen may think it’s right for Xue Yang to die for his crimes. But surely he would never think it’s right to kill Chengmei.

Chengmei can receive the daozhang’s spiritual energy with no cost, no conditions, no consequences except the attention of a stupid, gullible, beautiful man.

Chengmei will only die if Xue Yang kills him himself.

* * *

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this fic, come visit me on AO3!

#mdzsnet #theuntameddaily #xuexiao #xue yang #xiao xingchen #mdzs #cql #the untamed #emilu fics #emilu creations #whumptober2021

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in-slytherin-we-trust · 4 years

Text

Another Time, Another Life (Draco Malfoy x Reader) Part 3/4

-> A ball, a revelation, and a confrontation... Will it be a happily ever after or a tragic love story that had run its course?

Click here for Part 1 and Part 2

*Y/N/N = Your nickname

“You’re positive that there is no dress code for this pretentious ball?” Y/N asked him again, her head tilted to one side, clamping the muggle phone that Harry gave her as a birthday present between one ear and her shoulder.

“Apparently so at least from the letters that they sent us, there’s no mention of any dress code. Only that we have to wear formal attire.” Harry replied, “I have no complaints though, makes it easier for us.”

Y/N groaned, “Ughh tell me about it. Even without dress code I still don’t own anything appropriate enough for a ball of this scale. Godric knows how many people the Malfoys have invited.”

She stared at her reflection on the cheval glass mirror in front of her, biting her lip in frustration, tossing yet another dress that she deemed not up to standards to the mounting pile on her bed.

“Just pick a random one, *Y/N/N. I’m sure you’d still look lovely either way.” Harry said again, she can picture him shrugging on the other side while saying this.

“Alright.. I’ll figure something out. You’ll come here by 7 right?” Her eyes drifted towards the wall clock, showing the time, 6:15 p.m.

“7 on the dot, just as how we planned. I’ll see you.” Harry said, ending the call.

“Right, see you then.”

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed as she looked at her now half empty wardrobe. Why am I even thinking this hard about what to wear? It’s just a ball, I wouldn’t even stay there long.

Earlier, Harry told her that he’ll be wearing a crimson tie. Should she just match him?

Y/N walked towards the other side of her flat where a small wardrobe stands, this is where she keeps all the clothes that she rarely wears for whatever reason. There’s bound to be a red dress in there somewhere, between all the crammed raiment.

A shimmer of glittering fabric caught her attention, her breath hitched in her throat as her eyes scanned the forgotten dress. She carefully grabbed it by the hanger, the dress twinkling even more as the light from the lamps hit it.

This is it, this is the dress.

The dress fits her like a glove, Y/N wondered how in the world she has never worn this beauty before. She grabbed her wand and utter a spell to do her hair into an elegant updo, leaving some loose curled tendrils hanging down to frame her face.

She finished just in time when she heard a ‘pop’ and the Boy Who Lived appears in her living room.

Harry’s mouth formed a brilliant smile as he took her appearance in. “See what I mean when I said you could wear absolutely anything? You look stunning, *Y/N/N.”

Y/N returned his grin, “Glad I got your stamp of approval, you’re looking rather dashing yourself. Shall we?”

Harry nodded as he offers her his hand to link with hers, then they apparated together to Malfoy Manor.

———————————————————————

Both Y/N and Harry cannot recognize this new version of Malfoy Manor in front of them. The sprawling mansion that used to has doom and gloom written all over it has been renovated inside out.

The large hallways are still sumptuously decorated but now brightly lit, rococo style lamps in gold and silver lined the walls, casting a warm glow.

A steward welcomed them when they entered the front door and acts as their guide, navigating the otherwise labyrinth like hallways towards the ballroom.

Finally they came upon a towering gilded door, the soft sound of classical music coming from behind it.

“Here you are, sir and madame. Please enjoy your evening.” The steward said with a low bow.

“Thank you for the assistance.” Y/N replied, giving him a gracious smile.

Harry reached a hand towards the door and push it open, the door swung easily despite how heavy it looks.

The grand ballroom is crawling with revelers wearing suits and dresses in all shades of colors. A live orchestra is playing on the very center of the room, buzz of chatter and laughter can be heard from every corner.

“Wow... they sure spared no expense.” Y/N said breathlessly.

“That is an understatement.” Harry replied, voicing his agreement.

Feeling like a fish out of water, Y/N grimaced, “What are we supposed to do while in here again?”

“Beats me, *Y/N/N. I guess we can just go straight for the food and drinks?” He said as he shoved both hands in his trouser’s pockets.

“Brilliant idea, I’m way too sober for this.”

So that’s where the two of them stayed for some duration of the ball, in the back of the room near the refreshment tables. Gobbling down their shares of grilled oysters, lobster toasts, caviar, and champagne. Minding their own business away from prying eyes.

They were in the middle of a rather interesting chat about some gentleman in a hilarious looking lemon colored suit, when they were interrupted.

“Mr. Potter and Miss Y/L/N.... what a delight it is to have you here, I’m honored that the both of you decided to accept our invitations.” Lucius Malfoy said coldly, Narcissa Malfoy in tow.

They donned themselves in all black suit and dress, looking regal yet very much intimidating as always. Regardless, Y/N can feel that something is off about them, the air of haughtiness that they used to carry themselves with now seems rather.... faux. In fact if she might say so herself, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy looked rather timorous and on guard.

“Thank you for the invitation, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.” Y/N answered in a noncommittal tone, masking her face into one of civility. “I really enjoyed the food, it was exquisite.”

“What she said.” Harry spoke, giving them a slight nod. Y/N had to resist the urge to smile at her friend’s behavior.

Narcissa smiled, “I’m glad you think so, I arranged it all myself. Have you had the chance to dance? We hired the orchestra all the way from Vienna.”

“No we haven’t yet, we were too busy munching the hors d'oeuvres.” Harry replied with a polite smile. After all he kinda owed his life to her.

Narcissa nodded understandingly, “Please do take yourselves for a dance or two if you’re up for it, the guests are eager to catch a glimpse of our celebrated war heroines.”

She then turned her eyes towards Y/N, “And of course it would be a waste of such beautiful dress if you stay in the shadow, Miss Y/L/N. You are a vision in red.”

Before any of them could answer again, Lucius Malfoy tugged his wife away and they continued on their rounds, playing the perfect hostess.

A rather upbeat sonata started playing, sending flocks of excited people gravitating towards the dance floor. Even Harry bobbed his head and tapped his feet along to the tune.

“Wanna go for a dance? This one seems fun.” Y/N asked, offering him an outstreched hand.

“I would love to my lady, be my guest.” Harry take hold of her hand and lead her to an empty spot on the dance floor.

Despite them not knowing what kind of dance they’re supposed to do since this tune is not exactly for ballroom dancing, they decided to just roll with it and made up the moves as they go. Swaying and taking turns in twirling each other. Laughter bubbling in her throat, feeling much more relaxed than before.

The couples around them seemed to be doing the same, no one moves in sync, but still they all managed to make quite the crowd.

“Switch it up, ladies and gentleman! Partner up with someone else.” Someone from the orchestra spoke.

Harry and Y/N look towards one another, “Would anyone even notice if we just stay together for the rest of the dance?” He asked.

“With the state that we’re all in right now? Doubt it.” Y/N said as she made no move to look for another dance partner.

Someone tapped Harry on his right shoulder, “May I cut in?” A smooth voice said, making the both of them stop and turn to see the intruder.

Draco Malfoy stood in all his glory, looking sinfully handsome in his black suit and crisp white shirt. Not a single hair out of place. A far cry from how he looked when Y/N last saw him in the trial chamber.

“Beg your pardon? What exactly are you trying to do, Malfoy?” Harry said defensively, putting a hand on her lower back as he tugged her closer to him. The motion didn’t go unnoticed, something flashed briefly in Draco’s eyes before he maintained his cool.

“I was just asking Y/L/N to dance with me, didn’t you hear that we are supposed to find a new partner?” Draco fired back aloofly.

“What is your game here? You could have just asked one of your friends like Parkinson or Greengrass over there, they too are short of partners.�� Harry continued.

“Well I found myself rather fancying for Y/L/N’s company, it’s not as if she’s your girlfriend, Potter. She is allowed to dance with whomever she likes.” Draco retorted, not backing down. In fact he is fuelling the fire.

“See that’s the thing! How could you even think that Y/N would like to dance with you of all people?” Harry said with a scoff. “Right, *Y/N/N?”

Y/N noticed that they’re starting to create a commotion and some closest to them have even stopped dancing to watch what exactly is going on.

Not wanting to have a fight on hand, she cleared her throat, “It’s okay, Harry. Just one dance, people are starting to look, leave it be.”

Harry still looked unconvinced but she gave him a reassuring nod, then he nods back. “I’ll be around if you need anything.”

Y/N refocused her attention towards Draco, “Let’s dance then if you so insist.”

Draco throw her a charming grin that would’ve knocked other girls from their feet, but not her. “Indulge me, Y/L/N. I have been waiting to dance with you for hours.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Have it your way, Malfoy. Let’s make it clear that I’m only saying yes because I don’t want to cause a scene at your parents’s party.” But still she accepted his outstretched hand and let him pulls them closer together.

———————————————————————

Draco Malfoy turned out to be an excellent dance partner, not that it surprised her, his parents probably made him took ballroom dancing classes the moment that he could walk. Purebloods and their propriety, it’s rather old fashioned really.

“This feels rather nice, doesn’t it?” Draco said, breaking the silence between them.

As much as she wants to deny that, there’s something about being this close to him as his arms wrap around her that feels just... right.

“Only because you’re being a decent human being for once, Malfoy.” Y/N replied nonchalantly.

“That has some truth in it, I do apologize for all the times when I’ve been an arse to you and your friends.”

Y/N sniggered, “Draco Malfoy can actually apologize, huh? What has the world come to. Your poor pride must be in shambles now.”

Instead of throwing back a remark, she’s surprise to see him giving her an earnest smile. “I found that when it comes to you, Y/L/N.. I tend to forget all my principles.”

“Is this your attempt at being charming?” She said teasingly.

“That depends, is it working?” He asked with a curious tilt to his head.

“Perhaps.” She answered smoothly.

“Perhaps.” He echoed back.

They were silent for a moment as the dance demanded for a twirl, carefully spinning her around and ensuring he’s not stepping down on her dress.

“The decoration is magnificent, it kind off reminds me of the Yule Ball.” Y/N said, stirring them into another conversation.

Draco almost froze in his tracks and cautiously approached the subject, “What do you remember about it?”

Y/N gave him a weird look as in, “Do you think I got too drunk back then that I didn’t remember a thing?” but decided to comply.

“I went with Oliver Wood and I wore a jade colored dress, definitely a good night for me.” She said as she smiles at the memory that resurfaces. “Your date was Pansy Parkinson right?”

“Yes... but I didn’t exactly dance the night away with her.” He said quietly.

Y/N raised an eyebrow his way, “Oh? What happened?”

She can see the look of hesitation on his face and in the way that his mouth keeps on opening and closing as if weighing the words that’s on the tip of his tongue carefully. “I was with you.. that night I ditched her to accompany you instead.”

Y/N jaw dropped open, “How hilarious, Malfoy.”

“No, Y/N. I’m being serious.” And the look on his face tells her enough that he is indeed not joking, that it compelled her to shut her mouth.

“Wood left you to talk with a quidditch scout who also attended the Yule Ball. Probably lost track of time while trying to butter that person up.”

Y/N felt her head getting heavier and a migraine starting to throb her skull. “I don’t remember any of that.... you’re lying. I was with him the whole night and we even walked back together to the common room.”

“Y/N/N...” Draco whispered out her nickname, “It was me who walked you back.”

She broke away from him, earning a few curious glances from the surrounding couples.

“I’m sorry but you must excuse me.” She said, not even bothering to look up at him as she left in a hurry.

No matter how big this ballroom is, she still feels suffocated.

———————————————————————

Y/N escaped the confines of the ballroom and wander aimlessly, not even paying attention to where she’s headed. Her whole body feels feverish. She just knows that she needs to find some fresh air to breathe in.

With some luck she founds herself in front of a glass door that leads to a small balcony. She muttered a silent prayer and let out a relieved sigh as the door swung open.

She closed her eyes, deeply breathing in and out in a controlled motion to calm her erratic heart. What was it about his words that bothered her so? For Godric’s sake this is Malfoy that we’re talking about! He loves twisting other people’s mind.

Y/N slumped against the railing, settling her burning cheek on the cold granite. She probably looks real pathetic if anyone happen to pass by.

She doesn’t know how much time has passed since then, but her body tensed at the sound of the balcony door behind her opening. A soft pitter patter of steps slowly making its way to her.

“You really should come with a warning label or an instruction manual, Y/N.” Draco Malfoy’s voice broke the silent night. Even the noises from the party doesn’t reach this part of the manor.

“That’s rich coming from you, Malfoy. Honestly why do you constantly feel the need to be soo bloody annoying.” She shot back weekly.

“Is it okay if I join you?” He asked.

“A bit late for asking don’t you think? But please don’t mind me, it’s your house after all and I’m just a guest.” She answered, gesturing with her hand for him to come and stand beside her.

“What was that back inside, Malfoy?” Y/N internally chastised herself for the tremble in her voice.

“There is something that you have to know, Y/N. Something about us.” He replied just as quietly.

“I—I don’t get it, there was never an ‘us’ so what are you talking about?” Her hands started shaking again but she forced it into a fist to steady herself. It takes an awful lot of effort for her to believe her own words because somehow, she knows that there is something more to this situation and she’s about to find out.

“I have to do something first but I need you to trust me, can you do that?” He asked.

Despite her common sense that is screaming at her to just turn around and get as far away as she can from there, her body betrayed her and she founds herself nodding.

Her eyes followed his every movement as she watches Draco slowly pulls out his wand from the inner pocket of his suit. He lift both hands up, his wand still tightly clutched in his right hand, but he’s trying to convey that he means her no harm.

“Ready?” He asked, once again asking for her permission.

“Ready.” She replied while steeling herself for whatever is about to come.

And then she felt as if her body is flung into another dimension.

White erupts all around her, scenes flashing by soo fast. Faces.... soo many faces. She almost drop to her knees, most likely from motion sickness, but then it all stopped.

And then she sees it. Her memories of Draco. Him stealing her for a dance in the Yule Ball when she thought she would spend the rest of the night sulking in some abandoned corridor after Oliver left her. Draco who insisted on being her partner in Potions and kicking Seamus out of his seat beside her, saying that it’s for her own good unless she wants to risk being exposed to frequent explosion. Draco who discreetly lended her his sweater when he saw her shivering during Care for Magical Creatures class. Draco who erased himself out of her memories and out of her life.

Y/N gasped in pain, feeling as if she just got stabbed over and over again as the hurt comes rolling in waves.

“YOU HAD NO RIGHT, DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY!!!” She screamed in agony, throwing herself his way, pinning him to the ground as she shakes him by his shoulders.

Tears blurred her vision as her body shook with violent sobs. She felt broken in soo many ways that she has to fight hard just to anchor herself at the thread of reality.

“I’m so sorry, love. I’m soo fucking sorry.” She felt him crying too beneath her.

He tug at her arms, silently asking for permission to pull her into his arms. Having no fight left in her, she allowed herself this sliver of comfort. Although in this very moment, she wants nothing more than to hurt him as bad as he had hurt her.

“Why, Draco? How could you do that to me? To us?” Y/N asked, barely above a whisper. Her voice sounds soo devastated, it pains him to no end to see her this way.

“I had no other choice, Y/N/N. I can’t let Voldemort use you against me, I can’t put you in danger just because I’d love nothing more than to have you by my side forever. Believe me, love. I did it all for you.” He croaked.

“I just don’t get it.... how could someone care for another and still take so much from them?”

“But it saved you a great deal of trouble! Like back at my trial when they asked you whether or not we were involved. Had I not taken your memories away, you wouldn’t be able to lie your way out under the veritaserum.” Draco retorted, clearly frustrated.

“Still, Draco..... Believe me if our situation were reversed, you’d be as angry as I am. Having your memories taken away from you like that is horrifying, I feel soo violated.”

Slowly she untangled himself from him and sits up, despite everything that has happened, she could still feel her heart reaching out for him. It still craves him and she doesn’t think that there would ever come a time when it won’t.

Draco followed her lead and sat himself, leaning his body against the railing. “I’m so sorry for all the pain that I’ve caused you, for all the pain that I’m still causing.”

Y/N stares at his face, the person that she once loved with all her being. “I don’t know what to say, Draco... I don’t even know if we can go back to how we were before all this.”

She watched as his face fell but there’s understanding in his eyes, “I know, starlight. I just want you to be happy.”

Y/N stood and clean the invisible dust from her dress, not that it makes it appear better, the skirt is all rumpled now.

“I... have to go. Thank you for the invitation.” She said, putting on a mask of cool indifference even though under all that, a violent storm is tearing at her very soul, but she has to be strong, for herself.

“Thank you for coming... Be safe, Y/N.” He replied meekly, but he managed to give her a small smile.

Y/N nodded and just like that history is repeating itself, but this time it’s her turn to walk away from him.

———————————————————————

Y/N made her way back to the ballroom, her eyes frantically scanning the room for Harry.

She saw him standing at the other side of the room and she walked briskly towards him.

Harry immediately noticed that something’s off, “Are you okay, Y/N/N? Do I need to fight anyone?”

Y/N smiled at her bestfriend, “That would be one hell of an entertainment to see but not tonight, buddy. Can we leave now?”

“Absolutely.” He said as he offered her his arm and they walked together towards the exit.

Turned out that it is actually quite late and some people have decided to call it a day too thus why Lucius and Narcissa are standing near the door to say their farewell to the returning guests.

When it is Harry and Y/N’s turn, Narcissa suddenly laid a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, “May I have a moment, dear?”

“Of course, Mrs. Malfoy.”

———————————————————————

Narcissa leads her to a parlor room not too far from there and offer her a seat at one of the plush settee.

“I would like to apologize for every wrong that I and my family have done to you, Miss Y/L/N. Our list of misdeeds are long and unforgiveable but all of us are paying for our sins. I wish you nothing but all the best that life could offer and Merlin knows how much you and your friends deserve it.” She said in a soft voice, shame painted her face.

“Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. I couldn’t speak for all of them but I know that me and Harry share the same sentiment especially towards you. I’d also like to thank you for sparing Harry’s life back then, if it weren’t for you, we would never be here.” Y/N replied, giving her a warm smile.

“You’re too kind, dear. We deserve far less than that but still I thank you for your clemency, but I’m afraid there is something else that I would like to talk to you about.”

“What about?”

“My son.” Narcissa said.

Y/N unconsciously gripped the edge of the settee as her thought floated back to the moment at the balcony.

“You know?” Y/N asked.

“You’ll find that rarely anything ever escaped a mother’s eye, Y/N.” Narcissa answered, “I know that what he did is wrong and it is yours to decide whether or not you will let him in your life again, but there is something that I’d like to give to you first.”

Narcissa walked towards a drawer and pull something out, a parchment.

“Draco wrote this sometime ago, it is for you.”

Y/N took the letter with shaky hands, “Why are you giving me this?”

“Draco might be a very difficult person, Y/N, but if there is one thing that I know for sure is the fact that my boy is completely in love with you.” Narcissa said as she smiles her way, “And I believe that he has chosen the right woman to anchored his heart to, you are a formidable force, dear. And I admire you for that.”

———————————————————————

A/N : WHEW okay I think this was rather intense, what do you think?

Taglist : @chaoticgirl04 @accioxdracox @randomsingingkoala @ivarlothbroks @sycathorn-slush @thescarletknight2014 @irritantive @vaeonshi

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ohshcscenerios · 3 years

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I was wondering, how do you think the ohshc manga would've gone if Moriharu was the canon ship as it was supposed to be? Like what would Mori's character arc be like? Would've Mori gotten a sad, dark backstory Like Tamaki? How would the confession scene look like? Would Tamaki (and Hikaru) ever be truly able to get over it (I mean he would be dramatic as always but it would've made a good arc where he gets more matur or something I assume)? I'm curious to hear your thoughts:)

I apologize for the wait Anon, this big brain question needed a big brain answer and I didn't have a big brain for a while. Now I will try to tackle it as I empty out my inbox.

If Mori x Haruhi were canon I feel many aspects to the story would change. The love-interest focus would shift to Takashi instead of Tamaki but I feel like their love story's arc would be more centered around Haruhi's arc before they finally fall in love.

Takashi had a relatively normal childhood with Mitsukuni. He didn't suffer through unfortunate circumstances and traumatic events like Tamaki. However that doesn't mean he has nothing to offer. The main arc's focus would be on Haruhi considering her childhood traumas. This would allow Takashi to be her supportive aid throughout her self-reflective journey until one day she realizes he's been by her side through it all and that she slowly but surely fell in love with him.

The way I see it, Haruhi would still learn to enjoy life to its fullest thanks to the host club. She doesn't have to marry Tamaki to learn this lesson. The host club being her close friends and dragging her along in their adventures would help her learn that life is more than working hard and achieving goals. However, while her friends are having fun and getting into mischief, Takashi is there by her side protecting her, keeping her company, giving her a sense of calm amidst the chaos, carrying her when she gets tired, actively paying attention to what she likes/wants, and accompanying her while she explores at her own pace. Takashi would offer her safety, security, and a sense of independence while with her without judging or mocking her. He would genuinely enjoy her company and she would enjoy his.

This would allow them to spend more time together, helping them both to come out of their respective shells in trusting each other with their thoughts and opinions. They both love history so they'd probably have many discussions revolving around that subject before they eventually venture into more personal and intimate territory; discussing their families, their childhoods, their likes/dislikes, their fears, their desires, and so on.

In doing this, Haruhi is having fun with the host club, learning to enjoy her life again, and gaining a wonderful friend through Takashi. He'd help her learn to rely on him as well as others, he'd keep every promise made to her, and his kind nature and strong character would bring her comfort and strength.

Haruhi doesn't need her love interest to completely renovate her way of thinking and living. While Takashi is wise and would help Haruhi make better decisions in her personal life, he wouldn't want to change her. His personality naturally compliments hers so there wouldn't be a need to change either person to build a relationship.

While Haruhi is learning to trust in others, allow their aids in her times of need, and to enjoy her life again, Takashi is also learning to grow more independent from Mitsukuni and into his own man. Granted, they're already their own persons, especially in the manga, and don't have a strong dependency like the twins, but in falling in love with Haruhi and growing closer to her would encourage Takashi to act more selfishly for his own interests.

Takashi not only puts Mitsukuni first but also his friends. This is why he canonically didn't pursue Haruhi, he didn't want to step over his friends. If he were to seriously purse Haruhi then he would also learn to prioritize his own happiness, stepping out of comfort zone in the process. I feel Mitsukuni would root for him all the way since this would be a big important step for Takashi and his personal growth, to essentially put himself first for once.

As for the other's arcs; although Tamaki's arc is pushed from the spotlight I feel his dilemmas would still be resolved, it just wouldn't be the main focus on the story. Hikaru and Kaoru's arc would act similarly the same as canon. Hikaru and Kaoru confess their love to Haruhi and are still rejected by her. Perhaps Hikaru still pushes her to confess her love to Takashi, even more since he trusts Takashi as his mentor and knows she's fallen in love with a good respectable man. Perhaps Kaoru and Mitsukuni connive sneaky plans to push the couple together since they can't help but create drama.

Perhaps there's a scene where Hikaru's anger in being rejected would force him to confront Takashi, demanding to know why his mentor has "overstepped him" and this leads to Takashi finally defending his desire to purse his own happiness with Haruhi, that he is entitled to happiness as quiet and impassive as he is. That his stoic nature doesn't default him to sacrificing an entire future with the woman he loves. And in that, Hikaru sees how his senpai has grown, making him realize that perhaps Haruhi is good for him.

As for the confession scene, I'm not entirely sure what it would look like but I'd like to imagine it'd be a spur of the moment ordeal. No planning, no rehearsing in front of a mirror. The scene I keep coming back to is Takashi comforting Haruhi during a thunderstorm. At this point in their story, Haruhi has grown to trust in Takashi and doesn't feel awkward finding comfort in him when the sky erupts with thunder. Takashi knows how to soothe her fears, gently playing her hair with his other arm wrapped around her middle while her back is pressed to his chest. She sits between his legs and his shirt unbuttoned to cover her shoulders as they rest in a dark corner of an abandoned farmhouse waiting for the storm to end. His chin naturally rests on her head, completely encompassing her to act as her shield. As the rain patters on the corroded roof above them, completely lost in her warmth and the feel of her safely tucked in his arms, he whispers his confession. At first he's unsure if she heard him above the storm raging outside and a part of him hopes she didn't, but after a few long silent minutes she surprises him by nuzzling her head into his shoulder and saying she loves him too.

#mori x haruhi headcanon #canon divergance #ask answered #big brain question #haruhi fujioka #takashi morinozuka #hikaru hitachiin #tamaki suoh

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liptonsbabe · 3 years

Text

The light is coming [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Lexington! reader

Chapter 1

Summary: The power of the Dark Lord shakes the entire magical community to its foundations, no one is safe as Lord Voldemort is so strong and the boy who lived becomes weaker; The magnanimous Order of the Phoenix is in dire need to gather all its members and even to recruit wizards beyond the borders of the community.

Albus Dumbledore knows that amidst the reign of darkness, the light will return to restore all that it took and bring with it extraordinary powers, even if it leaves an aftermath that cannot be erased. The Order of the Phoenix will need all the help it can get, including the help of the mythical (Y/N) Lexington.

Harry Potter's parents were not the only ones killed by the hands of Lord Voldemort.

Word count: 1.8K

Warnings: none

A/N:Hi! A new Bill’s fanfic for you all. This story is finished so if you like this part let me know so and i’ll update as soon as i can! Again, reader’s last name is Lexington but is just for the plot of this story

English not my mother language so please don’t kill me. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Order Of The Phoenix

Charlie and Bill Weasley had returned from their jobs abroad with the only purpose of duly serving the Order of the Phoenix commanded by Albus Dumbledore. For Bill it hadn’t been a sacrifice to return home, things in Egypt were not going at all well and he only asked for his transfer to an English office to work and at the same time help the Order. It wasn’t the same for his brother Charlie, cause he had to leave all his errands in Romania along with all his beautiful dragons.The journey to Grimmauld Place had been complicated cause, despite not missing anything from the countries they were returning from (with the exception of Charlie's dragons) they could quickly get used to the quiet, anti-Voldemort pace of life that the English magical community was vitiated by.

Both brothers were welcomed by their mother Molly Weasley, with tears in her eyes she hugged them as tightly as she could inviting them into the farthest room possible. Bill remembered Grimmauld Place very vaguely, the only time he set a foot inside the house was when Dumbledore asked him to help him clear the rooms and turn them into curse free spaces where they could quietly discuss classified Order business.

No matter how many times they cleaned that place, the old house of Black would always remain with that grayish appearance and the musty smell of worn wood. Sirius didn't seem to have any intention of renovating its fallen parts - of which there were quite a few - but seemed to enjoy watching the house fall apart. Be that as it may, Bill thought that any place was a good place to plan the crazy moves Albus Dumbledore had in his head.

The room was filled with people Bill had met before through letters his mother sent him informing him of the Order's progress, Dumbledore thought the best way to gain the upper hand against Voldemort's dark army was to recruit wizards who were willing to give their lives to protect the magical community. Surprisingly more people arrived than Bill could have imagined in addition to all those wizards and witches who had already been part of the association for years.

Taking a seat by the door, Bill and Charlie recognized the silhouette of Nymphadora Tonks. Not that it was very difficult to recognize her as her short, straight, bubblegum pink hair stood out among all the others. The metamorphmagus managed to acknowledge the newcomers sending them a warm smile before gluing her gaze on the door.

Charlie elbowed his brother's shoulder

“Dumbledore and his crazy schemes making us come here just for the Order business....”

“It was necessary," Bill cut him off, looking at him out of the corner of his eye, "Do you even know what's going on with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, don't you?” Charlie shook his head “it’s a real mess and you'd know it if you didn't spend so much time with your dragons.

“Don't bring them into this”

“They're some of them now?”

“Yeah, we got a shipment of Peruvian Vipertooths in this month and oh, brother, they're beautiful!”

“Wait” Bill frowned ”Those things doesn’t eat people?

“well yes, but that's only part of their diet, they also feed on goats and cows. We keep them in a cage near the forest because that species was supposedly exterminated after being considered dangerous to wizards and muggles alike, but I think they're beautiful”

Charlie's eyes sparkled and Bill couldn't help thinking that he was the odd one among his siblings. His admiration for dragons frightened him even though he found it adorable at times.

“You know, I'm not surprised you're still single. Knowing you as i do, you'll end up marrying one of those dragons or in the worst case, eaten by one”

Charlie didn't like his older brother's comment.

“What about you? As far as I know, you're not dating someone either”

Charlie's sudden criticism made him clear his throat and settle better in his seat. When they looked over at Tonks, they noticed that she was still staring at the door. Charlie hurried him to answer his comment.

“I met someone” His brother's blue eyes widened, amazed “I mean, we met in Egypt, she was traveling and we only went out a couple of times, nothing important.

“That's what you always say, William” Charlie looked at him mischievously ”No one seems to be good enough for you, huh? Or are you still thinking about someone since our childhood?”

Bill knew what his brother was trying to do and immediately shook his head. He had had this adolescent love for a girl who had left to France without anyone knowing the reasons why. Bill was totally hooked on her, yet the disappointment of her being thousands of miles away from him had broken his heart in a way he couldn't explain. Charlie knew about it, because he was the only one of his siblings who was old enough to understand; still, that didn't take away from the fact that he made fun of her misfortune a couple of times.

“Shut it”

Albus Dumbledore brought an end to everyone's conversations after standing up and clapping his hands a couple of times to get their attention. With a sincere smile, Dumbledore dimmed the lights in the room to reveal dozens of candles levitating all over the place. Bill fell silent and looked at the man

“I know that most of you here had to pause your activities just to attend this extraordinary meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, and for that I want to thank you," Dumbledore smiled at them, "We are fully aware of what is happening in the magical community thanks to the terrible presence of Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore ignored the shrieks of amazement from the audience “That leaves me with the advantage of not having to explain what is obvious to you, so the important thing about this assembly is to make it clear that, despite the magnificent increase in our membership over the past few days, we are still in the minority against the Dark Lord's ranks”

The murmurs grew louder and louder, causing Dumbledore to ask for everyone's calm.

“This doesn’t mean that your help is in vain, what I am trying to say is that we need more wizards and witches to join the Order”

“Where will we get more people?”Asked a witch wearing a yellowish hood on her head, "People are afraid, they're not going to join the Order just like that”

“We'll try to convince them," Dumbledore said calmly. "Of course, all of those who want to join will have to undergo proper training.

“So you're asking for more Aurors?”Minerva McGonagall asked. Professor Dumbledore smiled broadly

“Indeed”

The hubbub in the room intensified for a couple of minutes before Albus Dumbledore called for silence. Bill agreed with everyone that this was sheer madness. It was practically impossible for aurors to enter something as sensitive as the Order of the Phoenix - with the exception of Tonks and Mad-Eye Moody, Bill thought those two were insane - without them reporting every movement of Order members to the Ministry. Yes, the aurors were the best trained people for this kind of work, however, they were the hardest to convince

“Why don't we just make Harry a part of the team?”Asked Sirius from the middle of the room. Molly Weasley let out a shriek of indignation.

“What are you talking about? Harry's just a boy!”

“Molly, please, the boy knows more about this situation than any of us put together!”

“Even so, it's still dangerous for him”

“It is for everyone. I don't see what difference it makes if Harry is in on it, that way he'd have more support from the Order and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would stay away from him”

-If it is true what Sirius says," Dumbledore interjected, "It's no less true that Harry can't be a member of the Order yet. Not until he fixes the problem he has with the ministry after he used magic in front of a Muggle trying to ward off the Dementors that are getting closer and closer to non-wizards. Right now Harry should be being moved to this place to stay at least until the new school year begins.

“And in the meantime what are we going to do?” Severus Snape asked. Bill raised his eyebrows, noticing how Nymphadora Tonks raised her hand to give her opinion.

“I hope this isn't too hasty, but I've been sending some letters to Beauxbatons College in France in search of a response from the Aurors. It is well known that none of them have been willing to give us their help, but this afternoon I received a letter from one person who is willing to help us in any way she can," Tonks looked at everyone before continuing, "I know that one person doessn’t represent a great addition to our ranks, but I am absolutely certain that she is our best option”

Bill's eyes flicked from Nymphadora to Dumbledore repeatedly. He had that strange feeling that Dumbledore knew who she was referring even though she hadn't said the name yet. Dumbledore nodded a couple of times asking Tonks to continue. She cleared her throat

“She should be here soon”

“We’ll wait patiently”

Dumbledore's nod wasn't necessary cause seconds later the door flung wide open letting in the light from the main corridor. Bill glanced at the newcomer noting your expensive French clothes and your perfectly coiffed hair in a ponytail. His breath quickened as he took a close look at your face and recognized those features he remembered from when he was a teenager. A quick glance at Charlie was enough to confirm that what he saw was not an illusion.

The whole room rose to their feet, and as you entered the room raising your hands to the sky, the room was filled with a bright light that caused everyone to take cover before it blinded them permanently. Bill caught a glimpse of Tonks' pleased giggle before you reached Dumbledore giving him a handshake as a greeting while keeping the light alive with your opposite hand.

Your wand was in your jacket pocket and from your hands an endless fountain of light gushed forth, bringing peace to the members of the order.

The mythical (Y/N) Lexington didn’t needed a wand to have magic.

#bill weasley #bill weasley imagines #bill weasley x reader #domhn #domhnall gleeson imagine #domhnall gleeson x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter cast #charlie weasley #fred weasley imagines #order of the phoenix

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