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lookinghalfacorpse · 1 year

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Hi! I'm sorry for bothering but i just found your account. You're the writer of "in the wild all lessons last" right? Do you still remember your fic where techno like to dance with his friends? I believe it's called "one-two-three". I was wondering if you have more ideas for it, beacause i love it so much and crave more :) it's fine if you don't. I just really want to know if techno manage to teach dream tango after they got out. Do they dance regularly? Did dream become good at it? ,ect... anyway, love your writing style❤

you made my day ty :)

yes, i did write "in the wild all lessons last," and my first dsmp fic ever was "one-two-three" !! i watched this video when i was doing research for it, and it made me decide to go with tango for dream and techno. something about the style always seemed combative to me, so i think the best fighters on the server would really vibe with it.

so, i do think dream would be good at it, but it might take him some time to get there...

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/dsmp /rp

Dream hasn’t left his bed in about 23 hours.

It’s not that Technoblade’s been counting or anything. He’s been busy doing other things-- he cleaned the animal stalls and set out fresh hay (which took around 4 hours), trained with the Axe of Peace (about 3 hours), took an embarrassingly long nap (4 hours total, with a brief intermission for dinner which took an extra hour), and read (2 hours). Combined with his approximate 9 hour night prior, that takes us to 23 hours of almost no movement from Dream whatsoever. But, again, Techno was not counting.

With the sun low in the sky, and with next to no attention from his former cellmate all day, he headed up to the guest room himself.

He saw Phil take some extra blankets up to him earlier, and while many of them were stacked on top of Dream’s legs and torso, both which were entirely too thin, others were rolled up between his arms and held tightly in a half-asleep embrace. His hair, overgrown and wild, was partially in his face. Techno struggled to peer between the tangled strands to get a look at Dream’s face, expecting to see him fully lost in sleep, but was surprised to spot a pair of green eyes looking back at him.

“Oh, hey, roomie.”

“Hey,” came the hoarse reply.

Techno sat on the edge of the mattress, slowly and carefully, aware of how his weight might jostle Dream. “I got a job for you tomorrow,” Techno said.

Dream gave him a suspicious stare. Small and limp on the bed, he didn’t look capable of completing any ‘jobs.’

“Dog brushin’,” Techno continued with a smile. “I’ve been puttin’ it off, so I’m makin’ it your problem.”

Dream adjusted the way his head sat on the pillow, burrowing himself into it more. He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. His skin was drawn taut over his skull, pale and sickly, and his eye sockets bore a heavy shadow. They might’ve been bruised. “When?”

“Whenever, really. I can wake you up after I’m done feedin’ everyone, maybe? I just gotta show you where the brushes are, and tell you which dogs need it.”

“Mm-kay.”

Victory for Technoblade. He grinned. “Cool, cool. See you tomorrow, then, nerd.”

He was about to lift himself from the mattress when Dream’s voice stopped him. “Wait.”

“Mm?”

“You wanted to dance with me. In the prison.”

“Correction: I did dance with you. That counted.” Techno folded a leg below him on the bed, getting comfortable again. “And I’m still teachin’ you to tango, like I promised. Then we’re gonna dance all the time.”

“I’m even worse than I was before. I walked to the bathroom by myself earlier and I fell.” Behind the mess of his hair, Dream’s eyes were wet. “You’re not gonna be able to keep your promise.”

Moments of total silence weren’t common in Techno’s life. Even in times of peace, quiet spaces were usually filled with whatever repetitive nonsense the Voices yelled at him. The Voices seemed just as shocked at Dream’s rare display of vulnerability as he was, though, and the silence in the room was unbearable. He heard his own breath. He heard Dream swallow, hard.

“You underestimate me, dude. Look, I can dance with you right now.”

Giving little space for disagreements, Techno shoved his forearms under the mass of blankets and lifted. For as light as Dream was before, he seemed even lighter now. A few more months of starvation will do that to a man, he supposed. The blankets Dream held in his arms were left abandoned on the mattress, unraveling as they dropped. Before he was able to let out more than a muffled ‘Mmnpf!” of surprise, Dream was fully cradled and supported several feet off the ground.

Like before, Techno started moving.

He swayed, keeping the movement relatively slow. He still remembered the pattern they created in the cell; 1-2-3-left-1-2-3-left, and he started there, tracing a circle around the guest room with his hooves. His steps were more resounding and rich here than they were in the cell. There, the obsidian made a sharp sound, but the wood of the cabin seemed more appropriate for a dance.

All the while, Dream was simply along for the ride. The corners of his mouth curved into a smile.

“Tango’s all about pacin’, right? So here’s what we’re gonna do. Five steps, and the first two are slow,” Techno stepped forward twice, starting with his left, “then fast twice,” he stretched his right leg outward, bringing them to the side with two quick steps, “and slowly drag the left foot back to meet, see? Slow-slow-fast-fast-slow.”

----------

Tango is all about pacing.

An observer wouldn’t be able to tell who was leading the steps-- they seemed to switch at random, constantly shifting their footwork and adapting to one another. Slow-slow-fast-fast-slow. One moment, Techno was clearly stepping forward, and the next, he’d be led back by Dream. The trick was in their hands, actually; when Dream wanted to lead, he’d press his palms forward into Techno’s hands. Techno, unfailingly, would let him.

And, of course, there were the moments of agility that Techno knew his partner would be fantastic with. He’d sweep ahead, blocking Dream’s feet, and looked forward to seeing what jump or flair he’d use to counter the movement.

“Your hair’s whiter than I remember,” Techno commented once as he lead them into a Grapevine spin, bringing his hooves close together to base himself as he lead Dream around.

“Don’t think about it too hard,” was Dream’s somewhat dismissive answer. His voice, no longer as small and hoarse as it used to be, projected well over the record player. Techno had a collection of different music styles and genres that he liked to pull out for different dances, and he had a variety that were good for tango. Some were slow, dramatic, and elegant, while others were more energetic and lively. This day tended towards the latter, though they still shared many slow, dark routines that harkened back to their earliest dances together. Dream would come to him with a heartbroken look in his eyes, and Techno would know what to do.

“Weird bleach job?”

“Uh, yeah, we’ll go with that, sure.”

Technoblade was no idiot. He knew his rival was up to something. The guy always seemed to have some kind of agenda he wouldn’t talk about, but whatever it was, it didn’t involve Techno right now, so he didn’t push it. The back-and-forth of a good dance could be enough for now.

After all, he did make a promise.

#sorry this took me so long i was staring at it like O_o #lmao #'do you have any more ideas' 'no but i will if you give me a week or so'#this was a nice ask so i wanted to write something for it #i almost deleted one-two-three bc i don't think it's my best work #but nice ppl like yourself made me feel better abt it #so ty !!#ctechnoblade #c!technoblade #cdream #c!dream #rivalsblr #rivals duo #rivalsduo #drabbles #asks #dreblr

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mishimaontheflipside · 2 years

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'I Like You': A Night Drive Drabble

Jean Kirstein x reader modern au

Driving home late in the night after a fun day at the beach, Jean and reader are left to explore they're budding feelings for one another as their friends sleep soundly.

Shameless fluff, sickly sweet and smut-free. My first fic posted to tumblr... enjoy! ❤

3k words

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“Why don’t you get some sleep? We have a long way to go.” Jeans eyes darted to the rear view mirror, the rhythmic pulses of streetlamps illuminating their friends in the back seat, spent from a long day of pure infantile fun. Marco reclined, neck bent at an uncomfortable ninety degree angle, weighted down by the dribbling heads of Sasha and Connie on either side. Sand peppered the upholstery and their shins, the scent of the ocean ingrained in the skin, the refreshing breeze entwined in their hair.

Jeans mouth twitched. He returned his gaze to the road. The hue of the yellow lights, she thought, stained the world once familiar in sepia of potential nostalgic suspension. Looking at Jean, the way the warmth of its glow unsettling, unrestrained, yet a blanket cocooning this moment for her, it became a memory to be frightened of. Ahead of them, the car lights guided them forward, refusing the nights to give up its secrets. This night was to be too short once again.

Usually she avoided looking at Jean. If he caught her staring she was fearful he would find out. That when he spoke, when he smiled, when he moved, he was being, that all of these things she was so deeply enraptured by.

In the passenger seat beside him, she did not question how she had found herself so fortunate to be there. She kept her distance as much as she craved his closeness - wanting yet content with his existence.

“I’m all right.” She replied at last, suppressing a sigh of deepest contentment.She was wide awake, even with the cheap beer in her belly, shared as the sun retreated on the horizon, immersing itself in the depths of the ocean, with the dozing trio behind. Either she was fighting off this weariness or she had been left buzzing at the current state of affairs.

Glancing at Jean, his eyes now focused on the road, checking mirrors, moving lanes shifting gears; the ritual that was more than second nature to a guy like him, the certainty was soothing. She could watch his motions all day; his long arms framed him in an impenetrable barrier, when he gripped the steering wheel, the leather groaning beneath his flexing fingers.

One part of her wanted to convince her that once she nodded off he could enjoy the alone time, that he was secretly craving for her absence, even though sleep, that he could think of nothing worse than being left in an exchange with her on what should have been a wonderful day. Yet she wanted to be with him, if only for a little while. She was there. As their friendsslept she was with him. There was no way he could know what that meant.

The sun had penetrated their skin and warmed them through. Now it had set the chill of the night drove the memories’ of the beach further away with its tender grip. Although now, the swaddling of evening time cradled them in the day and all its moments, just as the sun would rise, so would much of the time vanish with it, never lost, simply swallowed into the pulse of the earth, engorged with man’s joys and sorrows.

Her skin had rouged with the hints of burn, yet still she shivered. Pulling her zip up closer around her, her sun dress too thin as remnants of the days rays seeped from each pore. Shins bare, she began to feel the prickle to goose pimples.

Jean fiddled with dials on the dashboard. A gentle stream of warm air tumbled out of the system, angled at her feet, ever so gradually teasing up her legs.

“Is that better?”

She nodded, this time to mask the trembling in her core, the kind that awoke every time he spoke to her.

It was a kind of drunken feeling, being beside Jean; side by side with a boy like him, the giddiness of a strong alcohol in her system, euphoria unmatched. It all felt undeservedly pleasant. Like she was being embraced from all sides, her heart quelled by longing and want, met in some unfamiliar haziness, she felt as though she could imagine what she wanted and it would manifest in her yearning. That she could believe that it was just Jean and she. That for a moment he watched her there, which in the seconds between those moments, in the quiet recess of his mind he thought of her. That not just fate but sheer will had allowed her to be beside him there, because that was how it was supposed to be for them. Divine intervention was redundant. She felt cocooned in a love all of her own fabrication. In those conditions, she could manipulate her own memories.

Better not to know, she thought for the thousandth time. Better not to sour the pocketful of memories she had savored of him, and them. All worth remembering but easily forgotten.

“You know,” Jeans voice was low, gentle; in doing so a rumble so deep in his chest followed, felt in her own like the rumblings of a storm too distant to see, “I don’t think I’ve seen you have so much fun as you did today.”

She didn’t respond.

Nervously, he pushed on, “That’s not to say I think you aren’t fun – of course I do – I just mean that you seemed more relaxed than usual. When Connie threw you into the sea but somehow fell. And you were still standing…”

Connie had held his breath afterwards; let himself float beneath the current. He was such an idiot. In a panic, Jean had tried to flip him over only to be spat at with seawater, a surprise chewed out gum ball and a puzzled cry from Connie.

She had to break up the fight between them. Marco returned from the food stall with ice creams dribbling down his hands, his yells fruitless in results. Sasha filmed it all. And licked the melting snacks when she could.

Jean was still filling the silence, yet she found her own drowned in thought. One he could never comprehend. How could she tell him that her silence was a persecution? A vanishing act of sorts? For when he said what he’d said, it offered affirmation; I see you. What more it could offer was that he liked to see her. She had fun, yes, because he was there, because they all had been together and forgotten everything about the lives they lead outside of those precious hours. They had all proven to one another that one could keep on living each day like that, with the little woes, the bigger sorrows, and still get lost in contentment.

When Jean saw her, what did he see?

“I didn’t want it to end,” She whispered.

Jean shifted gears as they approached a junction. The roads were bare, as though her very words had led the few people aroused by the night to flee in sanctuary.

She found herself sinking into her seat as she continued, “That alone made it sweet, that I didn’t want it to. That it would end made every minute pass with some meaning. Sometimes it felt like I could capture the seconds, hold them in my hand, like sand but softer. Do you know what I mean?”

Back onto the faster roads now, Jean increased speed, smooth as a professional. He rubbed thoughtfully at the fine skin below his eyebrow for moment, “I think I do.”

Sandalwood and patchouli: that was the scent that clung to Jeans clothes, that now as the built-in heaters disturbed the air inside the car, she got to breathe in with such heady clarity.

That scent of him. On the way, that morning, she had been seated in the back, behind him in his drivers spot.

Sasha had complained about carsickness but disproved her claims as she jammed a doughnut into her mouth. Outraged Connie who was squeezed between them both and Marco from the challenging passenger’s seat, battled it out to recover the rest of the snacks. Jeans voice rose in complaints, at first at food spillages, then, through stifled, maniacal laughs, at shoes all over the upholstery and finally, with the authority of a patriarch, threatened to turn the car around when Marco almost kicked him in the face.

All the while, she had laughed, attempting the occasional micro-management here and there mostly she let it all play out. Watching Jean, he had remained so predictably thoughtful throughout.

She had seen the fine hairs that merged with the darker ones at the nape of his neck, clipped but longer. Brushed off his face, it was too long to leave but too short to tie back. It tucked behind his ears and kinked at the back, she searched for the end of the hairs upon his body but she found none as the finest of hairs mingled. Gold seemingly woven in each thread.

Sasha had eaten all of the food. There was never any to begin with. Connie complained until he had forgotten why he had begun and instead turned his attention to the radio. Plugging his music in, he and Marco took turns blaring whatever song they knew half the words to. Jean sang along to the ones he knew, snapping at Marco when he switched to something no one knew at all half-way though a jam.

The rest of the trip, she stared out of the window.

In the compact space the car smelt intoxicating with the blends of aftershave the boys had showered themselves with. Primped and preened rather foolishly for the day at the beach, they outdid both she and Sasha. The car smelt irresistible, a taster station of perfumes. Yet, one she could not place, had never been able to in all the times she had found herself drawnto it. She knew it was the scent of Jean, how could she not? An allure and a repellent, it had always caught her attention. Now she understood its gentle notes, earthy and musky, an incense of calm.

“You smell nice.” She said. The words didn’t tumble out. Although the correlation of thought and voice had been non-existent, had not seemed conceivable, the truth of the words had eradicated any sense of danger in them. Perhaps it was the booze, but the sincerity behind the words meant more. A panic did not rise. Her mind had been expelled.

“Thanks,” Jean said, after another long moment of nothing but the fans of the air-con panted and the whir of tires speeding along the smooth roads, the gentle snores of their friends. She glanced at Jean. He gave so little away, those eyes now darted between the road and the rearview mirror. His jaw was tense, gently gnawing his lower lip. There were tendonsin his thick neck, which flexed as he moved, knotted with the shoulders that had squared with the sharp intake of breath.

She looked away. Now, she began to suspect, a caution seeped insidiously into the space between them. Yet, she could not doubt her words, when doubt was all but breaking down her resolve.

“So do you.” Jeans voice was still a soothing rumble, perhaps less certain than it was. The leather of the steering wheel creaked once again and a shaky intake of breath followed. When he swallowed, his Adams apple bobbed, floundering foolishly, she thought. She liked that too. Liked that it was her words that made that happen. The stubble peppered his chin, and freckles had crept upon his cheeks, encouraged by the sun.

“I like-”she began. His high cheekbone, his deep set narrow eyes often sullen looking in moments of peace, apprehensive in moments of confusion as he was now; it distracted her for a second. “I like your hair. You should never cut it or ever let it grow. It’s just right.”

His lips, though thin, were a shade of peaches that seemed almost obscene. As his teeth grazed delicate skin there, they darkened, even in the low light.

“If you ever shave your head,” his words stumbled, a smile pawed at his resolve and she understood that he was controlling his amusement, “I would consider it a national tragedy.”

She snorted then, an ugly hiccup of a noise.

Jean shushed her, gesturing to the back seat before suppressing his own.

“I like that when you drive we don’t die.” She said.

“I like that when you don’t drive we don’t die.” He said.

“You have a voice that, if I knew otherwise, would tease a potential career on the west end.”

“What does that even mean?” His words were stifled when he pressed a hand to his mouth.

With each attempt at volume moderating, their giggles grew keener until they were improvising gags; hers was the cuff of her jumper.

“When you buy alcohol, you always remind me of an adult, in a good way. You just go and you do it.”

“That’s because none of you guys remember to bring I.D’s. Marco looks way older than me.”

He pondered then, “I like… that when you try to tell a joke, the fact that you’re laughing already makes the joke funny.”

She beamed stupidly. There had never been a time where she could get a punch line out, despite the number of times she had heard the one she wanted to tell, the joke would send her rolling before she could finish it for anyone else. “They’re not funny otherwise?”

Jean shrugged, “Don’t pursue stand-up is all I’m saying.”

“That was what I was going to tell you next!” She bemoaned, as muted as she could manage, amateur dramatics in play as she clutched her head.

His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, shaking his head.

With a deep breath, she said, “Your face always makes me feel like… the sun will come up tomorrow.”

The giggling stopped.

She sat up firmer, felt the sleep, the haze escaped her and more so to herself, she murmured,

“And the day after that, and the day after that.”

In this silence, in this world, that was shifting ever so slightly, the dozing trio in the back could not feel the shudders in the earth. The air had grown sparse; all had been suspended in this disjointed night drive. Still far from home, but too close, suddenly as much as all had stopped, time was ticking and soon there would be nothing else.

Where time before had become solid, cherishable, now it was harsh. Gripping her fingers to make the minutes grate on through the timer, she listened for the first hard granules to strike the surface below.

The future lay out before her. She had been waiting for it. That eerie sense of calm had abandoned her and now, in the hidden darkness, beyond the beams of the headlights, in those shadows the future of lost connections, of rejections, of reality on the horizon. The sun would rise tomorrow, would the boy she liked so much be there to bring it?

He wouldn’t look her way, his responsible driving all that proved that he was still there. Not even his fingers twitched and she simply had to look away then. To stare at the road paved ahead, to hope that future she was certain lingered ahead would not rear its ugly head.

“That you were happy today… that made me very happy.” Jean said.

He was beside her. The heat of his body, the sort so detached from any other; the kind of warmth that sent sparks across the skin lingered beside her, that helped her know that he was there and not in her mind. Whenever he had shifted gears, had moved an inch, she could see the space parting to let him through.

It was parting again, as his hand stretched out towards her and prized apart her fingers. They had tangled themselves so well, an attempt to never escape the perpetual loneliness she had become accustomed to. The world, and all its matter, was dividing for them.

When he laced his fingers with hers, when his breath hitched as she held on tight when she knew it was okay, when he simply clung to her too, she felt a collision of something microscopic, and a chasm was filled with the debris of this matter, light with the moon, the stars, the comets and the sun. Reeling, pulsing, living, breathing, peaceful, alive with atoms; they’d connected the dots.

“I’m happy right now.” She sighed, feeling sleepiness weighing her down. A weight was lifted and replaced by a soul-shifting calm.

“So am I.” Jean smiled.

"At freaking last," came a scoff from the back seat. She was ready to fling his hand from her but Jean clung harder.

"Yo, privacy!" Jean hissed as Marco snorted at the little outbreak.

"Not really the place for that, is it?"

Peeking over her shoulder, she saw a coy smile plastered across Marco's face, even as he attempted to loosen up his neck, the dead weights of Connie and Sasha completely undisturbed, his shirt sodden with their drool. He grimaced.

Jean shook his head, pulling her hand closer to his chest, defensively, mumbling about his friend being such a peeper. Marco just grinned at her, rolled his eyes before shifting his phone out of his pocket, a real challenge where Connie had wrapped himself around his lanky body, and swiping through it. It was amazing how he hadn't gone numb. With a squeak, Sasha hiccuped in her sleep.

She squeezed Jeans hand back. He bit back his own glee as he continued to run on about Marco's interruption.

The night would end; even as she began to doze and it came to feel like a dream, Jean was the one to gently shake her awake, caress her cheek with his thumb and smile at her in a new way. One that told her it was real after all.

They would say their goodbyes and forget the days as much as they would remember all the little things. Maybe all would be revealed in the days that followed; maybe patience made space for something gentle and kind to grow anew. For her, the sun did indeed rise the next day…

........

Thanks for reading!

#snk fluff #aot fluff #jean kirschtein #jean x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #attack on titan fluff #drabble #snk drabble #aot drabbles #jean fluff #aot au #snk au #attack on titan au #modern au #fanfiction #fanfic #aot fanfiction #my writing

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chaotic-super · 11 months

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The Vampire Woman - Chapter 22

Read it on AO3 here!

Lena is having a hard time focusing on her work. Her back is to her balcony and it’s very difficult resisting the urge to turn around every few seconds to check on Kara and make sure she’s ok out there.

After spending so much time in the lab helping Kara, all of her work has sort of been thrown onto the backburner and she’s got a lot to get through so she can’t afford to be distracted by the pretty woman on her balcony.

She’s limiting herself to only turning around once every fifteen minutes and she’s not letting herself linger for more than a minute and a half, just to be sure she doesn’t spend all day watching over her. That being said, Kara doesn’t need to be watched as closely as before. She’s been out there for going on six hours at this point and has been given vitamins by Alex, who had to leave for work a couple of hours ago.

The pained look that had become a near-permanent fixture on her face has turned into one much more akin to relaxation and she’s very glad that’s the case because it means that having her out in the sun is working. She can’t believe she didn’t think of it sooner, she’s known for quite a while that she gets her vitamins through drinking blood and that blood from an unhealthy person who doesn’t get the necessary vitamins in their diet, isn’t as good as blood from someone who is healthy. Of course, Kara was craving blood before, she has flickers of vampire instincts, this time the lack of vitamin D caused her to react in a similar way to how any vampire would, by craving blood.

Lena’s eyes dart to the corner of her laptop, taking in the time. Fifteen minutes, she gets her minute and a half now.

Her chair squeaks as she spins around and she almost has a heart attack, something that would be a real talent for someone with a heart that doesn’t beat, when blue eyes meet hers. She gets over her surprise quickly and awkwardly waves at Kara through the glass.

Kara looks good, her skin has lost the sickly white tinge to it and she’s actually smiling, albeit just a tiny one, but she’s looking a lot happier and healthier already. She tries to respond to Lena’s wave by sitting up but Lena can see the way her arms shake as she tries to push up against the couch so she shakes her head, using a demanding finger to point down to tell her to keep resting.

With a pout, one that is either at being told what to do or at not having the energy she wishes she could have at the moment, Kara flops back down with a frown. Her hands are resting beside her waist and her fingers are tapping there, showing Lena why she really wants to get up and not be stuck out there. She’s bored.

Lena sighs and shakes her head before holding up a finger to signal that she’ll be back in a moment. She gets up from her chair and wanders across the room to one of her shelves where she pulls down a tattered copy of a book. She has to slide it out from beneath an old yo-yo, one she hasn’t actually used in quite a while but she’ll never throw away because of the memories attached to it. Ones that are happy but will be firmly left in the past.

She looks back down at the book. It’s quite old now, but that’s to be expected from a vampire with a hoarding problem because she refuses to get rid of any books after she’s read them. In her defence though, after centuries of reading books and just general life, if she waits long enough then she loses all memory of reading the books and then she can read them again.

With the book in hand, she pokes her head out of her office, knocking her knuckle against the door softly to grab Jess’ attention. “Hey, I think the patient has lost all of her patience. Can you take her this so she doesn’t try and make a break for it, even if I do think her attempting to climb off the balcony is a long shot?”

“Sure.” Jess pushes her chair away from her desk and holds her hand out for the book, frowning at the thin layer of dust coming off it. You should at least clean your books more often if you are still refusing to replace them with better copies.”

Lena shrugs. “Maybe later.”

“Translation: never. Got it.” Jess shakes her head, making her way past her and towards the balcony doors.

Lena sees Jess casually stroll out into the sun and a wave of jealousy hits her. She has to give it to Kara, she’s the first person to make her have genuine feelings of annoyance and hatred about her inability to be in the sun. She wants nothing more than to be out there with her right now to be certain that she’s healing well and recovering but instead, she’s stuck inside while Jess gets to go out there and be with her.

Kara smiles at being offered the book and takes it with a shaky but slowly steadying hand. Lena sees her chest shake when Jess flips the pages to make dust come flooding out and even Lena can’t help but chuckle along too because she guesses that it is kind of funny.

Jess doesn’t linger out there, heading back inside after just a short conversation with Kara. Lena meets her eyes, an unspoken question that Jess doesn’t need clarification for.

“She’s doing better. She’s a lot perkier now but very thirsty so I’m going to grab her some iced tea from the place down the street. Do you want anything?”

“Uh, yeah, a coffee if you don’t mind,” Lena says as she glances down at her watch, she’s already forgotten the time since she last looked at her laptop, her main goal then was to see if she got her fifteen minutes of work done, not check the actual time. “Maybe grab some lunch for us all too? Maybe something healthy, she needs something to get her strength up.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be back soon.”

“Ok, see you soon,” Lena says, placing herself back in her chair, already annoyed that she can’t see Kara from this angle.

Having had Jess check on Kara and knowing that she’s coherent enough to read a book is doing wonders for Lena’s nerves. She’s progressing on her work quite nicely now, falling into it enough that she forgets about her need to look at Kara in favour of going on a roll with her paperwork, reading through each page with her vampire speed so she isn’t stuck doing it all day and getting through the massive pile she’s been meaning to get around to all before Jess gets back with the drinks and lunch.

Jess taps at the door haphazardly with her elbow to let her know she’s coming in since her hands are full and Lena is quick to get up and help her by taking the tray of drinks from her. Jess uses the one clear patch on Lena’s desk to sort through the food and separate the food orders. It makes Lena glad she finished that paperwork; it means she won’t have to leave her desk to eat because she’s got the space now.

“I got Kara a chicken salad. I figured the protein would be good for her.” Jess says as she pulls Kara’s lunch out of the bag.

“I have no doubt that she will complain about that.”

“I know, that’s why I got her a doughnut too for dessert but I’m going to threaten not to give it to her unless she makes a genuine effort with her lunch.”

Lena’s lips quirk up. “I’ve always known you had a little bit of scheming in you, I just never knew how much. I approve.”

“Shut up, I got you a salad too, it’s kale and I still find it disgusting that you eat that when you don’t even have to eat.” Jess’s lips curl at the thought of it.

Lena’s smile grows. “And what did you get for yourself?”

“I got a sandwich.” Jess holds it up. “I’ll take Kara’s out to her now and you can shout me when you need me to take her doughnut out to her.”

Lena catches Jess’ arm before she can move away from the desk. “Actually, Jess, would you mind sitting out there with her? I’m probably worrying over nothing but with the way she was vomiting before, I think it would be a good idea if she wasn’t left alone in case she chokes.”

“You can just admit that you’re worried about her, boss. I’ll sit with her, please put down your work when you eat too, I hate when you try to multi-task because you always fail and end up forgetting about your lunch halfway through.”

“Whatever you say.” Lena waves her off, pulling her food and coffee towards herself and letting Jess take the rest and then head outside.

She turns just enough in her chair to see Kara’s face light up at the sight of Jess coming over with food and then somehow light up even brighter when Jess pulls up a chair and plonks herself in the shade so she doesn’t burn.

Kara, despite being in the sun for hours, isn’t burning at all, something Lena thought might happen, but she guesses that’s just one more thing for her to note down about Kara’s new physiology.

Kara pouts when she sees the salad but she starts eating it, presumably because of the threat of missing out on dessert and Lena sighs in relief that Kara is getting her personality back. It’s been a really stressful time and this might just be the end of it.

Jess fetches Kara inside just before she’s set to go home. The sun is just about setting and it won’t be long until Lena can head out herself without going sizzle sizzle in the sunshine. Once she can leave safely, she’ll be taking Kara back to her place and Alex will be dropping in when her shift is over at the hospital.

Kara is only moved from the couch outside to the couch inside but her legs shake from the exhaustion of it anyway. She’s going to have to sit outside in the sun for a few days to try and get herself back to full health.

“Hey, Lena?”

“Yeah?” Lena looks up from her work to meet Kara’s eyes.

“When do you think I’ll be able to go back to work?”

Lena immediately avoids Kara’s eyes. She’s not going to give her an answer she will appreciate and that alone sends guilt shooting through her. “Um…”

“That bad, huh?”

Lena shrugs. “I don’t really know, Kara but everything we’re doing to get you better, it’s guesswork. Logical guesswork but still guesswork, so we don’t really have a proper timeline for when you’ll be healthy enough to work.”

“I think I’m probably going to get fired. Ms Grant is fairly understanding and according to Alex, she responded as well as she could when she was told that I had to go on medical leave but I don’t think that understanding is going to last forever.”

Lena presses her lips into a line, her mind buzzing to find a way to help Kara but there’s not a lot she can do. “I don’t know how to help.”

Kara’s eyes fix on the floor. “I know and I’m already grateful for everything you’ve already done so I can’t expect you to fix everything for me. I thought about asking if I can work from home but there’s only so much research I can do for my articles without going anywhere and you saw me just walking across the office, I’m pretty useless right now.”

“I’m sorry.” Lena doesn’t know what else she can say.

“What would you say to an employee if they were in my position?”

“I would just appreciate being kept in the loop, I guess, but I wouldn’t press them to come back into work when they are still recovering, even if I don’t know the details of what they are recovering from. What does The Queen of All Media know about you?”

Kara shakes her head. “I’m not completely certain, I think Alex might have just been super vague and used her medical knowledge to overcomplicate it when explaining to her so she doesn’t ask too many questions.”

“Then go from that, make your narrative and get in touch. Tell her that you aren’t certain when you’re going to be able to get back to full duties but express that you want to get back to work as soon as you can within your limits.”

“I don’t know, Lena,” Kara says. “Ms Grant can be harsh.”

“Would she put you in harm’s way out of spite though?”

“Probably not.”

“Then don’t worry about it.”

Kara thinks it over. Calling Ms Grant is probably the only way she’s going to make sure she actually has a job to go back to. The reason she still has a job probably has a lot to do with a mixture of her prior closeness to Ms Grant and also HR not wanting to open themselves up to a lawsuit by firing her when she’s on medical leave.

“I’ll call her later. I’m sure she’ll still be in the office, she’s just as bad as you are for working late.”

“Hey, I agreed to head home as soon as the sun goes down!” Lena argues.

“And how much work were you planning on taking with you?”

Lena stays quiet.

Kara stares her down for a minute. “That’s what I thought.”

Kara has just about finished the book and Lena’s pretty impressed by that and also really happy that Kara likes her choice of novel based on the way she is so focused on the book and enthralled by the story. Now that she’s inside, Kara is just working on the last couple of chapters while Lena works. She actually finishes while Kara is on the last chapter but figures that it’s not worth disrupting her now. She’ll let her finish.

“Done.” Kara grins, snapping the book closed. “That was a good book.”

“I know, why do you think I’ve kept it long enough for it to go dusty?”

“Want to talk about it on the way out of here?”

Lena pulls a face of pure guilt, her lips turning down and her nose scrunching. “I actually don’t remember much about it.”

“Then how do you know it’s good?”

“It’s on the good shelf. I wait until I have fully forgotten the plots before I read them again.” Lena points out. “The ones on the middle shelf are the ones that are pretty meh but I can read again because, while not the best, they are still relaxing reads because they are predictable.”

“Ok.” Kara drags the word out, not fully understanding and just squirrelling away this as a little quirk of hers. “Shall we head out?”

“Yeah. Give me two minutes to pack up.”

Kara doesn’t get up until Lena has got her bag hooked over her shoulder and she’s ready to leave. She heaves herself up with a grunt that should have come from a middle-aged suburban dad getting up off a lawn chair to check the barbeque. Lena has to look away to hide her smile, the laugh not far behind.

Lena waits for Kara and stays a step behind her. If her unsteadiness coming inside is anything to go by, she’s going to have to give her a hand at some point on the trip down to the car. Speaking of, Kara’s not going to be a happy chappy.

“So, Frank is downstairs waiting for us. Think you can play nice with him?”

“Depends, is he still a jerk?” Kara tries back, her breath coming out in quick pants as she forces herself to keep walking despite the room spinning. The dizziness is something she has a feeling she’s going to be dealing with for a little bit, at least she’s not going to be vomiting everywhere, the stomach acid has already done enough damage to her vocal cords and her karaoke skills are one of her best attributes.

Lena ignores the question, instead pinching a stray eyelash out of her field of vision and acting like she never heard Kara say anything. “So, want to watch a movie or something later? After your phone call, I mean.”

“That’s a yes. I don’t like him.”

“He’s someone that always looks out for me and I am extremely grateful for him. He’s been there for me for a long time and there was a time when he was the only one that cared enough about me to ask about my day.” Lena feels the need to defend him. He’s been a constant in this part of her life for years and as much as she’s unhappy with Frank’s actions, she’s not going to let Kara talk trash about him either.

“Exactly.”

“Exactly, what?”

“He’s been there for you. He asked you about your day. He supported you. He pointed a gun at my face. I might trust you Lena, but I don’t have any reason to trust him.”

Lena sucks her cheeks into her mouth, thinking up a somewhat decent response. “Right. Can we just…not do this?”

“I suppose so,” Kara answers, leaning against the side of the elevator as they head downstairs. The ride is uncomfortable after that and Lena’s left trapped between a rock and a hard place. “let’s just get back to your apartment, I don’t want to argue.”

“Me neither.” Lena swallows audibly. “But while you’re staying with me, it’s our apartment, Kara. I want you to feel at home there.”

“Thank you.”

Kara barely says two words to Frank on the trip back to the apartment but it goes mostly unnoticed because Lena takes the reigns in talking to him, not giving her a chance to say anything anyway because they are having a conversation about his grandkids, something Kara knows nothing about anyway. She knows that Lena has led the conversation there on purpose, perhaps because she doesn’t want her to say anything insensitive to him, not that she would say anything outwardly mean to his face. The worst she said behind his back was calling him a jerk. Hardly hard-hitting.

Upon getting out of the car, she does quietly thank him, not in the mood for a lecture about manners from a vampire that, while she has redeemed herself, did try to kill her on more than one occasion. Her legs are shakier than ever though and she has to cling to the car door like a lifeline to get out of it. Lena tries to help her, Kara has to give her that, but she’s not in the mood for being coddled so she ignores the offered hand.

She makes it through the door and greets Clarice behind the desk with a wave and a tight smile, one that is returned tenfold.

“I see you’ve met Clarice. She’s a bit much but she’s lovely.” Lena remarks.

“I don’t think she’s a bit much,” Kara responds, her quip lacking the bite she meant it to have.

“You’re right, that was an unnecessary remark.” Lena gives in without a fight. She was hoping that tonight would be quiet and uneventful but it’s not shaping up to be that way because emotions are running high and neither of them are in the right state of mind to be fully civil on the things they disagree on, or the people they disagree on.

“Do you want to take a shower when we get in? I can make a start on dinner if you want to go ahead and take one.”

“Thanks but I might actually take a bath in a bit, if that’s ok?” Kara forces a kinder look on her face than the tired frown she’s been wearing. A shower actually sounds lovely but the very idea of having to stand for more than another minute is killing her.

“That’s perfectly fine. It’s up to you, the ensuite off your bedroom is yours to do as you please, if you want a bath, you take a bath. I’ll still get dinner started for you though, you look like you need to sit down.”

“I’ll be fine.” Kara insists. In reality, she would love for Lena to start dinner so she can sit but the implication that she can’t do it herself niggles at her mind, annoying her and triggering her ‘prove-them-wrong’ reflex.

Lena’s eyebrows furrow. “I know you could do it if you needed to, Kara. You just don’t have to. Let me help you…please.”

“Ok,” Kara says after a pregnant pause. “I’ll keep you company in the kitchen though.”

“Sitting down?”

“Definitely sitting down.” Kara agrees and follows Lena inside, grateful when Lena takes her right into the kitchen and pulls out one of the stools at the counter for her. “Hey, Lena?”

Lena looks up with a hum of question.

“I’m sorry I was acting insensitive over your friend. I might not like him but I wasn’t acting very nicely and I put you in a horrible position by insulting him to your face. I won’t do that anymore.”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t really understand why you don’t like him. You have a valid reason not to and I can’t force you to be buddy-buddy with him. I’ll try and limit the time you have to spend with him.”

Kara stretches out a hand across the counter to Lena. “I appreciate that and I promise to be as civil as I can with him. I just get defensive around people I’m not comfortable around and well, I’m really not comfortable with him.”

Lena takes the hand gently between her own in a manner that is far more intimate than she intended but it would be awkward if she just dropped it now. “You don’t have to be sorry for your reaction to someone that threatened you. I’m just grateful that you forgave me for what I did to you and I can’t ask for much more than that.”

“I forgave you a while back, Lena, and let’s be real, if anyone owes anyone anything, it’s me. You literally saved my life and are continuing to do so. That’s without even mentioning letting me live with you temporarily.”

Lena shrugs. “Yeah, I am a pretty amazing person.”

Kara slips her hand free and gives Lena’s hand a light tap in punishment. “So humble.”

Lena grins at her. “Alright, dinner, dinner, dinner. What do you want? I have the ingredients in for a stir fry?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Awesome.” Lena starts taking the ingredients out of the refrigerator and throws one last smile over her shoulder.

Within a couple of minutes of watching Lena, Kara bites the bullet. “I’m going to go and make that call before I chicken out.”

“Good luck.”

Kara finds her phone, goes into her bedroom and sits on the edge of the unmade bed, still messy from the last time she was here. It niggles at her brain, she hates an unmade bed but tomorrow, it’ll be left as tidy as it can be.

Her heart pounds in her chest as she presses the call button, waiting for Ms Grant to pick up. She’s got no doubt that she will answer because she’s terrible for working late and even f she’s not working, she’ll probably answer because she’s probably curious about what’s got her away from work for so long.

“Kiera. It’s about time you finally took time out of your apparently busy schedule to call me.” Cat answers the phone with one hell of an opening line and it does nothing to calm Kara down.

“Hi, Ms Grant.”

“I have been expecting your call for a while now and that’s all I get? Hi?”

“I’m sorry, Ms Grant. I’ve not been well and today is the first day that I’ve been able to properly call you. I’ve just got home from…I’ve just got home.” She has to reroute her sentence part way through. She can’t exactly just tell the truth here and start exposing herself and Lena.

There’s a brief silence on the other end of the line. “I see. So you have been sick? Is it bad?”

“It was, I’m slowly getting better, I just wanted to give you a call and tell you that I’ll be back in as soon as I can, I just can’t really move around too much at the minute so I’m not so sure I’ll be able to report on anything but if there’s anything I can do in the meantime, I can get back to work.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous, Kiera. As much as I detest anyone having time off, I am not cruel and based on the fact that this is the first time in all of the time you’ve been working at CatCo that you’ve actually taken adequate time off based on your contract, I’ll let it slide. Please focus on getting better and come back to work when you’re in good health.” Cat admonishes her, her true feelings towards Kara shining through, she’s always had a soft spot for her.

Kara sighs. “I appreciate that, Ms Grant, I really do but I’d also like to get back to work as soon as possible, you know I’m not one for just sitting around and I’m going to go stir crazy with nothing to do.”

“If you want to get back to work as soon as possible then you’ll just focus on your recovery instead of trying to rush back into things you can’t be dealing with currently, you’re very obviously not doing great at the moment and that’s fine but I will not have you setting your health back just because you’re impatient.”

“Ms Grant—”

“No, Kara. Rest.” Cat means business and Kara knows that because she’s using her real name, a rare occurrence.

“Can we compromise?”

“Doubtful.”

“Four hours a day, whatever work I can do from home, just something to take away from the torturous boredom of having nothing to do.” Kara offers.

Cat actually laughs at that. “That’s not happening. I’ll give you one hour a day of editing work you can do from home. I’ll have a company-issued laptop sent to your apartment for you to work on.”

“Thank you.” Kara smiles into the phone. She’s not arguing over the time she��s been given. An hour is better than nothing and if she pushes, Ms Grant is likely to take away the offer altogether. Then it clicks what was just said. “You can’t send it to my apartment though.”

“Why not? I thought you said you were home from the hospital?”

Kara cringes. She knew it would be assumed that she had come from the hospital but hearing the lie said out loud makes her feel guilty. She hates lying and yet here she is gearing up for yet another lie. “I am, I’m just not staying at my apartment now.”

“Why not?”

“It was…vandalized.” She tries to search for a word that will dimmish what happened to her but there’s just not a lot she can say because this is one of the things that she can’t lie about because she’s got to confirm her change of address with CatCo.

There’s an audible gasp and while Kara is a little impressed that she’s managed to actually shock her stonewall of a boss, it also scares her because it means that she might have just accidentally triggered Cat’s protective side, something she’s only seen a couple of times before and has only happened once with her when there was an attack on CatCo after there was an exposé someone didn’t like and they pointed their weapon at her, Cat launched her laptop at them with such force it gave them a concussion and allowed time for security to get on the scene and subdue the person until the police arrived. “Someone broke into your apartment?”

“I…yeah.”

“Is it linked to your health in any way? Don’t lie to me.”

Kara has a choice now. She can lie or she can lie in a way that helps her.

“It’s connected. I’m staying with a friend right now; she’s let me move into her guest room until I’m well enough to sort out what’s left of my old place and find a new one.”

Cat swallows down the lump forming in her throat. “Is this the reason you want to get back to work? You’re struggling financially after everything that happened and need to get back on your feet?”

“No, that’s not the reason, I really do just need something to occupy my mind. I don’t like just sitting here and letting my mind wander to everything.”

“I’ll find things for you to do but I’m bringing you that laptop myself first thing in the morning, give me the address and I’ll be there at nine sharp.”

Kara’s eyes widen to the size of golf balls, at least that’s what it feels like. “I’ll have to get it from my friend.”

“Is she there?”

“Yeah.”

“Then go ask her. Chop chop.”

“Right, I’ll just be a minute.”

Kara clambers to her feet, wheezing as she does so and then scolding herself because the phone is still pressed against her face and Ms Grant definitely just heard that and it can’t be doing much to help reassure her that she’s doing just fine.

She takes the phone away from her ear and heads back into the kitchen. Lena is standing over the stove and just casually tossing the ingredients. “Hey, Lena?”

“Hey, are you done with your call?”

“No, Ms Grant is still on the line, she wants to bring me a laptop tomorrow so she’ll need the address.”

Kara is expecting her to just recite the address but she swipes the phone out of Kara’s hand so fast that she doesn’t have time to react and stop her.

“Ms Grant, this is Lena Luthor speaking. Kara is currently staying with me while she recovers. What can I do for you?”

Kara keys in her advanced hearing after setting herself back on the stool she was sitting on earlier. It takes a tick or two for her to concentrate enough to hear what is being said on the other end of the line without being deafened by Lena’s voice because it’s hard to separate the two.

“Lena Luthor of L-Corp?”

“That’s the one,” Lena responds, her voice flat.

Kara takes in Lena’s posture and notices that the soft curve of her spine from where she was relaxed over the stove has now straightened considerably and she looks much taller than before, her face stony and cold. She’s putting on a mask that was established long ago.

“I see, I presume you met when Kara was supposed to be interviewing you?”

“You suppose correctly. She was interviewing me and there were a few setbacks for Kara in her personal life at the time and since we were growing closer due to us working on a potential series of articles for L-Corp, we grew closer and so when I found out about her apartment being vandalized, I offered her a place to stay so she can recover.”

Lena meets Kara’s eyes in an apology because she’s admitting that she used her own advanced hearing to listen to Kara’s call with Cat when she was in the other room. Kara just shrugs, too tired to even be annoyed at this point.

“I was not aware of the deal Kara had made with you over the articles.” Cat states, her tone clipped.

Lena clears her throat. “It wasn’t official, it was a tentative deal but we never had the chance to get into the details of it.”

“Kara is going to get back to work by editing from home and I will be bringing her the relevant equipment to do so, I require your address to do so.”

Lena rambles off the address clearly and succinctly and then after a brief pause so Cat could write it down, Lena continues speaking. “I don’t want any reporters showing up at my door.”

“I do have some decorum, Ms Luthor. The address will simply be attached to Kara’s file as per company policy and it will not be abused. I assure you. I will be there in the morning to check on Kara and hand the things over.”

“If you could leave them with the front desk, that would be preferable, Kara needs her rest.” She’s trying to stop her from showing up at the apartment so Kara doesn’t get caught up in having to lie about how she got hurt and why she’s not in the best of health right now and Kara is thankful for it but also keenly aware that the request will not be met kindly.

“That’s not happening, I am coming to see her. If I simply wanted the items delivered, I would send someone to do it for me, not come myself, I am a CEO, not a delivery girl. I don’t have the time to be doing such trivial things as that.”

“Just let her.” Kara mouths and Lena nods.

“Kara has just informed me that a visit is not off the table. A note will be left with the front desk that you are to be shown up to the apartment when you arrive.” Lena says, “I will now hand you back over to Kara, have a nice night, Ms Grant.”

Cat’s smugness can be heard in her words as she savours her win. “You too, Ms Luthor, and I will be expecting a formal exchange between L-Corp and CatCo over those articles.”

“I expect nothing less.”

Kara takes the phone back. “It’s me again, Ms Grant.”

“Kiera, I don’t expect to be kept waiting tomorrow and I have a lot of questions for you so make sure you have your wits about you when I show up.”

“Yes, Ms Grant.” The line goes silent and Kara has to take a look at her screen to see if the phone has been put down on her but the call is still ongoing. “Ms Grant?”

A sniff. “Look after yourself. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tom—”

Click.

Lena snickers from where she is now plating up the food, obviously still listening. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting her to end the call on you like that.”

“I was.” Kara chuckles. “And I guess I have to get my story straight for when she shows up tomorrow because she’s not going to hold back.”

Lena pushes a plate across the counter to her as well as a fork. “Just stick as close to the truth as you can, you have too many tells when you try to lie too much.”

Kara frowns at her as she moves to come and sit next to her with her own plate, one much smaller than the one she’s got, probably because she only eats for pleasure, not because she needs to so she’s just having a taste of it. “I don’t have tells.”

“Yes you do,” Lena all but sing songs, her voice lighter than Kara’s used to hearing and she wants to hear it again and again but then Lena’s hand is reaching towards her face and a cold fingertip is pressed between her eyes. “You have a little crinkle here when you lie and also when you’re confused, it’s cute though so don’t worry too much.”

“I should get Botox for that.”

“Don’t, I like it,” Lena says and then Kara watches as Lena reclaims her composure and pulls her finger back. “I mean, it’s not a big enough tell that she’ll notice, I don’t think. It’s probably still a good idea to stick to the truth though.”

“I think you’re right. Want to come up with a story with me anyway though?” Kara asks, shovelling the food in her mouth, starving because it’s been quite a while since lunch and she only ate half of it because that’s all she could stomach of the salad. The dessert was good though.

Lena picks up her fork and takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully before answering. “I would love to. Let’s eat first though and then we can head over to the couch, it will be much more comfortable.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Read the next chapter early on Patreon here!

#supercorp #lena luthor #supergirl #kara danvers #cw supergirl #fanfic #supercorp endgame #kara x lena #kara leaned in #kara zor el #fanfiction #supercorp fanfic #wlw #vampire au #vampire lena luthor #vampire!lena #chaoticsuper

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commander-krios · 1 year

Note

Mmm for some yearning prompts - what about "i was sort’ve hoping you needed me. is that selfish?" for Daniel and Kaidan?

Have some love confessions for these two! I was trying to figure out how to get this done and it finally came to me. Enjoy!

Read on AO3

~~~~~

I can do this. I have to do this.

Daniel Shepard hovered in the doorway, unable to find the strength to take that final step into the barracks, knowing that when he did, he was committed. Committed to Kaidan, a strange but comforting thought despite his nerves. His foot tapped out a rhythm against the floor, trying to calm the fear rising in his chest.

The barracks were still dark, lit only by the emergency strip that ran around the edge of the room. Most of the people who slept here were out partying or visiting family or doing whatever it was that social people did on their shore leave. He wouldn’t know. He only ever went out when his sister’s shore leave coincided with his and that was becoming increasingly rare.

His skin crawled at the memory of his last shore leave. Elysium was still recovering from the Blitz, Illyria most of all. It would take years to recover from the massive loss of life. Even now, his body wasn’t functioning at the capacity it had before the attack.

His hand brushed his abdomen, the thin shirt he wore covering the still healing wounds. The Alliance had hailed him a hero for his role in repelling the attack, but he didn’t feel like a hero. Daniel craved a quiet existence far from politics, patriotism, nepotism… but he was thrust into the spotlight whether he wanted to be in it or not.

He winced at the sharp pain the slight touch elicited, but today, it was welcome. With the pain came the realization he was alive, he was safe. That he wasn’t bleeding out in front of his best friend, that his lifetime of bad decisions hadn’t killed him-

Unable to take the suffocating quiet any longer, Daniel crossed the threshold, his steps echoing.

No sign of Kaidan. He relaxed, a sigh hovering on his lips. The relief should’ve been concerning. He came here for a reason. He had to talk to Kaidan after what’d happened on Elysium. They’d barely spoken after his near death experience, after Kaidan had patched him up. His therapist would say this was a good first step to dealing with the nightmares, the trauma, the anxiety.

The fear.

Daniel Shepard wasn’t a coward, never had been in his entire life. But with Kaidan… this was entirely new territory for him. He didn’t have feelings, not the romantic kind at least. Sex was all well and good, but combined with emotions and everything went to shit.

His parents were proof of that.

The sound of a shower being shut off alerted him to the far end of the room, light shining underneath the bathroom door.

Fuck.

He shouldn’t even be here. The doctor didn’t know he’d left the hospital wing. When she found out, he was going to be strapped down to the bed until they cleared him for duty. She was going to ring his neck. That would be a preferable death to him slowly embarrassing himself. Maybe he should jump out of the nearest airlock and get it over with already.

But his feet were frozen, thoughts flitting through his mind like a hummingbird, quick and barely coherent but one thing was burned into his brain.

The whiskey eyes that haunted him at night.

Sinking down on the closest bunk, Daniel felt the exhaustion finally set in. When he glanced at the hands in his lap, he realized they were shaking and no matter how much concentration he forced, they wouldn’t stop. He was weaker than ever and it was horrifying.

“Daniel?”

What did Kaidan see when he looked at him? The war hero? Or was it something else? Did he see the crumbling man in front of him? The overgrown beard, the unwashed hair, the sickly pallor of the bedridden? The man who couldn’t make up his fucking mind about what he wanted to do with his life and got forced into the Alliance against his will?

“You took a huge risk coming for me.”

It sounded like an accusation, it was anything but. Daniel would always be grateful for Kaidan’s quick thinking. It’d saved his life, and that of the soldiers he’d fought beside, but he wondered how many people died because Kaidan stayed to make sure he didn’t bleed to death.

Kaidan knelt before him, concern etched on his features. His hair was wet, curls tempting Daniel to reach out and card his fingers through them. Kaidan’s hand hovered in the air briefly, as if he was unsure of what to do with it. All Daniel could see, however, was his mesmerizing eyes, how worry was crinkling the corners, how his mouth turned into the beginnings of a frown.

There was something beautifully poetic about his sadness.

“I’d have been taking a huge risk not coming for you.”

Kaidan rested his hand over Daniel’s, grip solid and comforting. He let out a sharp breath, trying to find his ‘calm’ center. He didn’t know how to tell the therapist the only thing that calmed him was the man sitting here. Daniel was still coming to terms with the realization.

“What if the risk doesn’t pay off?”

Kaidan tilted his head in confusion. “You’re alive so I’d say it already has.”

“Had to save the Alliance hero. I get it.” Daniel didn’t want to let go of Kaidan, but this was too important to be distracted by the warm, soft hands of the man he…

Loved. He loved Kaidan Alenko.

“What are you trying to say, Daniel?”

“Maybe I was hoping… that you came back because it was you who needed me.That you weren’t saving me because it was your job.” Daniel pulled his hands away, using one to rub the back of his neck. God, he was bad at this. “Is that selfish of me?”

Kaidan blinked at him. Once, twice. “You think I saved you out of duty?”

He could almost feel the surprise, and the hurt, that flitted across Kaidan’s face. “I’ve never had to do this before, Kaidan. I’ve never…”

Daniel wasn’t good with words, that was one of the only things he could admit to, but with Kaidan watching him warily, he wanted to spill every dark secret, every desire, every fear his heart held. It didn’t compare to what Kaidan did for him, but it was a start. Something in his gaze must’ve betrayed him because Kaidan sighed, moving to sit on the bunk beside him.

“You’re an idiot sometimes.”

Daniel snorted, the humor in Kaidan’s tone not lost on him. “Only sometimes? Wow, what an endorsement of my finer qualities.”

Kaidan smiled, bumping his shoulder lightly. “You need to be good at something, I suppose.”

“I’m good at a lot of things. Most of those things shouldn’t be heard by innocent ears, but it doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

“That’s debatable.”

Daniel wanted to be offended, but he couldn’t. “I came here to pour my heart out to you and you’re making fun of me.”

“You haven’t actually said anything yet.”

It was a fair point, but that meant he actually had to examine his own feelings. And those feelings scared the shit out of him.

So instead of speaking, Daniel slipped his hand into Kaidan’s, the silence stretching as he found the best way to entwine their fingers. The warmth of Kaidan’s skin was a beacon, something he clung to in the chaos of the galaxy around him. Daniel could get used to seeking comfort if it was with him. Kaidan’s gaze focused on where they touched, hands brushing legs. Then he squeezed Daniel’s hand with as much affection as he could.

“How long?” He asked, emotion almost making it impossible to get the question out.

“A while, I guess. Elysium… opened my eyes to a lot of things.” Daniel took in the sight of the man next to him, eyes still staring at their hands, but a smile was curling his lips. “You’re the only thing I’m scared of losing, Kaidan.”

“For a man who says he isn’t good at expressing himself, you say some of the prettiest things.”

He was… teasing him again.

“Excuse me, Alenko, I’ll have you know-”

Daniel was sure it was mostly to shut him up, but he liked the feeling of Kaidan’s soft lips against his. Soft pecks that turned more needy, more insistent until he opened his mouth and took everything Kaidan offered.

It was new: this heady rush of adrenaline as they kissed. Daniel had the urge from the intimacy, but at the same time, he also wanted to dive in, to drown. His heart felt like it would explode while his body vowed to melt into a puddle at Kaidan’s feet.

The scent of his soap mixed with the smell of his aftershave made a heady fragrance that Daniel memorized for later. Because he would definitely be reliving this.

When Kaidan pulled back, his hooded eyes and cocky smirk almost sent Daniel to his knees. Holy shit, if this was what kissing him was like, he was certainly a damned idiot to put it off for so long. “You were saying?”

A stupid grin broke out on his face. Running his fingers through those damp curls, he leaned forward to rub his nose against Kaidan’s. “I was talking? Funny, I can’t remember now.”

“You’re saying this is how I win all the arguments, right? Because I’ll use it to my adva-”

“Shut up and kiss me, Alenko.”

Kaidan laughed, a sound that embedded itself into his heart in that singular moment. Maybe being in love wouldn’t be as awful as he thought.

With Kaidan, he might even look forward to the future.

#my writing #n7viper #mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #fanfic #daniel shepard #shepard #mshepard #kaidan alenko #shenko #mshenko #daniel x kaidan #otp: don't leave me behind #love confessions

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bobbyfiend · 1 year

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Shit my low-INT bard reads - 2

(and doesn't care who gives him a hard time about it)

Desgreangrid Frostcoat summons Dalmeloth Blighter of Flesh

By Ketthel Anorthosite Kulthinthrin

Desi marked the circle as she'd learned from her long-dead mother who had warned "Never set your foot within its space and never let the Thing behold your face."

She chanted thirteen hours in Abyssal, spoke the words of power she had wrestled from a fiend who wouldn't soon forget But she would walk this path as it was set.

A putrid smoke and sickly light appeared exactly as she'd hoped and also feared. The form inside that maelstrom had such grace she failed to pull her veil across her face.

The thing had claws and teeth and wings and fur and words less like a growl, more like a purr: "Who dares summon—" it began, then… sighed. "You know," it said, "I really do not mind."

"Thou art bound by power!" Desi rasped, "and try no tricks or I will have you lashed." "That thought, fair lady, fills me with delight," it said, "and you can call me Dally Blight."

The sorceress knew not how to respond and bought time chanting the Controller's Song. Dally said, "your voice is sweet and fulsome. I welcome the most vicious of compulsions."

Desi, who'd intended to command the Thing to purge the Unclean from her land, found these words escaping from her lips, "Perhaps—I mean thy liege demands—a kiss."

The thing before her moaned—or was it laughter? "With pleasure, precious, but what word comes after?" "What do you mean, foul fiend?" her voice was thin. It said, "I mean, kiss it? Kiss her? Kiss him?

Or, honestly, a dozen other options." Was Desi's heart on fire? Or was it stopping? She had labored more than forty years she knew Command, knew how to conquer fear

But now she felt a new sensation rising as she said to Dalmeloth, "Surprise me." Several minutes into their embrace she realized the Thing had seen her face.

Dally saw her shock and said, "My sweet, that's the least of it. Look at our feet." with dread she saw her right foot on the line and, somehow, Dally's left foot was outside.

"Dearest," Dally said, "I must come clean. I love you, though you're you and I'm a Thing. Your chanting, singing strength was in my ears for you mere hours; for me, thirteen years.

"At first I wished to torture you, devour you, but then your voice brought me to better know you. I begged Agramoleth The Hungry Dead And it agreed that I could come, instead.

Volunteering for another's summons turns out to have affected the procedure in contrast to the fate of many demons, I'm not compelled, but overjoyed to be here.

I thank the gods and devils I have found you. after thirteen years hearing your passion I want to be with you, to be around you in any way you want or can imagine.

She stared at what she'd clearly not enslaved and wondered how the fortunes could arrange a thing she never knew she'd always craved: a love for whom no passion would seem strange.

She said, "I will no longer call you Thing, my love from somewhere I can't comprehend. Kiss me again, then let's erase this ring and I will love you just as I intend."

Then the two began to do some things it's better not to write in mortal ink and afterwards they breakfasted, eventually in bed.

#DnD #Fantasy literature #Definitely not Shakespeare #Very long poems #Shameless schmaltz #Bard #Pretentious language #iambic pentameter #Wasted on a character backstory

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ask-will-and-nico · 1 year

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“His mom eventually got remarried to a really good guy and they had a baby, so my friend and his brother have a little sister too. The guy she married had enough money to put her kids through college too, so my friend ended up getting to go for a marine biology degree. They’re all in a really, really good place now. My friend just still has the habit of watching out for people, even now that we’re in our twenties,” Will explained. Nico nodded slowly. It made sense. Abuse stayed with you. It was nice to know that there was hope for the future, but he knew that realistically, the effects of what Luke did to him would be with him for the rest of his life.

"That's good. It just sucks to know that other people out there had to go through shit like that." He sighed, reaching over to hold Will's hand. Will craved more contact, but the dog was in the way, and this was good for now. "Well, at least you're not alone." Will suggested timidly. He always tried to see the silver lining, no matter how hard it was sometimes. "I'd rather be alone. Nobody else deserves to be treated like that." Will squeezed his hand. "You don't either. And you never did."

Nico smiled a little and leaned his head on Will's shoulder, his eye sliding closed. He started drifting off to sleep, but as he did, "I love you" slipped out of his mouth, making Will's heart stutter. He was so beautiful, even now, even as he looked so thin and so sickly. It was a sad, fragile kind of beauty, like a porcelain doll, broken and abandoned and locked in an attic, or an angel thrown from heaven through no fault of his own, small and terrified. But it was beauty nonetheless, and it hurt his heart that he struggled to see it. 'I'll show him', he whispered to himself. 'I swear it on the styx.'

-/-/-

It was a little awkward with Cerberus between them, but Will wouldn’t have it any other way. Nico was so incredibly important to him, and Will needed to figure out how to make Nico see that. He knew the answer wasn’t anything lavish or over the top, that wasn’t the kind of person Nico was, but something. Will wanted Nico to understand that because he was so important to Will, he should be important to himself too, and not just an afterthought. Will glanced over his shoulder at Nico and smiled at the way he was sleeping. Nico was practically laying on top of Cerberus in order to have his head on Will’s shoulder, but the dog didn’t seem to mind. Will made sure the blanket covered Nico well and wouldn’t fall. He didn’t want Nico to wake up because he was chilled at all. “I love you too,” Will whispered, turning his head enough to kiss the crown of Nico’s head, humming softly as he did so. Cerberus let out a heavy sighed, seeming resigned to his position while Nico napped. Will figured he might as well try to get some more sleep himself as well.

#asks #mini fic 8

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sukunasun · 2 years

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I read your "how the jjk men would give it to you" post you made and.... like... surprise dick w stressed nanami sounds *chefs kiss* amazing. I was wondering if you had more thoughts about it bc i havent known peace ever since i read that hc/snippet

i was wondering which piece you were referring to only to realize you meant THAT post....

despite the dark circles and a scowl keeping his face in an ever-constant state of agitation, he’s a picture worth a million dollars, in tight-fitted suits that pinch at the waist, the back of his hand dusting over broad shoulders, poised, prim, lapels ironed flat over a wide chest. built and beautiful and so prudish is he. what is it about nanami the salaryman. his life made up of decimal points going up and down, a strand of hair he finds randomly on his shoulder, and the long, long, hours that build up overtime, a culmination of disappointments and tension unlike any other. forcing him closer to that edge, losing all control.

maybe it's the way his face is lit by a computer screen, by fluorescent lights, looking sickly and tense. he leans back in his chair every 30 minutes and the heavy sighs he lets out, the deep groans, guttural and frustrated sound so pornographic you think he's doing it on purpose. your friends tell you it's the clark kent effect, everyone's into the hot nerdy types, the quiet ones who hide that wild, primal side of themselves. but he is no superman, in fact, he's the complete opposite, he hides nothing and he hones no powers. he's just a man in need of a splurge or something, the desperation written all over his face.

who says things like "make me copies, reschedule my meeting, this coffee is atrocious make sure you use the french press like i taught you" do this, do that, barking orders at you all day without so much as a thank you. well, it’s less bark and more bite really. he's so cutting it's like he could say anything to you just so he gets to sneak in some kind of backhanded comment, unsolicited and uncalled for, an inkling inside you warning you of its hidden meaning.

if he were anything like his coworkers, he could just visit the strip club, pick up a girl on a dating app, find some stranger at a club, a quick fuck, a one night stand. but nanami wouldn’t dare. it's such a shame that he doesn't know how to fuck, wouldn't be able to the way he seems so tightly wound and uptight—mr. 'i'm better than you because i make so much money and i am good at my job'.

not to mention it wouldn't work either because he needs something more, something along the lines of your pretty mouth wrapped around him, taking him all the way inside, choking on it. you'd make him last as long as possible, make him shake and tremble with his hands gripping your hair tight, fisting, tugging hard and he'd keep you there, releasing down your throat. it’s what he wishes for when he stands in a bathroom stall jerking himself off for the fourth time that day and god help him because it’s now a routine, just for the sake of release, mechanical and so quick he doesn't get to savour it. even when he does reach his peak—cum painting his fingers, hot and sticky and so incredibly disgusting when the adrenaline wears off, heartbeat slowing, lips swollen and bruised clamped down between his teeth, his body doused in all that shame—it's not enough.

later in the day he gets off the phone with a client who's been bugging him about buying, selling, about shares, investments, the money's not real and on paper they're making a fortune but nanami knows he's going home with most of it. his patience along with the desire to keep his job is wearing thin. seen with the way a vein bulges over his temples, jaw clenching, his tie comes undone then, tugs at it until it hangs loose. starts to crave a cigarette by the lounge, away from prying eyes, but it's not needed when he looks up and sees you by your desk. “he’s just this guy at the office, you know, the kind that has a stick up their ass and takes themselves too seriously,” he overhears you say on the phone—it’s offensive of course, because you say it with such contempt like he wasn't capable of bending you over a desk, over a leather couch, making you muffle your screams in a supply closet as he fucks you silly. he wants to scoff, you should have been keeping those things to yourself, let alone talking about him out in the open.

at this rate, he could just pull some strings and let you lose your job but he decides otherwise, walking over to where you are, nanami raises an eyebrow when he stands over your desk. "menial tasks requires less brain power so this falls right within your purview doesn't it, what are you, an errand girl?" he usually speaks in a monotone voice. this time however, it's like he believes himself superior. smug and snobbish.

“i graduated top of my class," you reply with indignation. who does he think he is, was this some weird power trip? he’s always been so quiet, so composed and collected. “and it’s sexist to imply that i merely run errands,” you spit back. if it weren’t for you, he’d be fucked. who organizes his schedule and replies his emails when he could just do it himself.

immediately, he says “i made the assumption based off your incompetence, not because you are a woman.” then glances at you with his nose upturned. cringing at your gaping mouth, at your shocked expression. “stop staring, you're getting drool all over company property," he plops a few stacks of papers by the edge of your desk and without thinking about the implications of it, pushes them towards you with his pelvis. a lazy thrust of his hips and you look up then, expecting to see a sly expression, just like every other man who work on top floors and smoke cigars in penthouse view board rooms but his face is hesitant, like he's holding back something, "get this sorted, and don't make a mess of it." he instructs, before walking away, striding towards the men's bathroom for...whatever reason, you didn’t know, but he's always disheveled and doused in cologne afterwards.

geto and gojo suggest he meets the daughter of one of their clients but nanami suspects it's just another one of their schemes. “she’s a babe, would be down to fuck on a first date,” gojo doesn’t care that he’s being loud and obnoxious because he has more money than anyone will ever make in their lifetime while geto slaps an envelope against nanami's chest, “here, go buy her something pretty, it might help us convince her dad to invest,” geto says from behind him. he peeks through the opening and finds crisp bills stuffed into it, bursting at the seams.

the woman in question looks more like a doll, she smells like vanilla and her full lips purse when she whispers, "i like you," straddling him and leaving soft little smooches against his neck. it sounds made up because she barely knows him. he looks down at her spread legs and wonders what they'd look like in stockings, the kind you wear, in a pencil skirt and a blouse buttoned all the way to the top. her wavy extensions don't do anything for him, where's the updo, where are the hairpins tucked behind the ear. he doesn't want to hear her praises or her exaggerated moans, she's definitely a professional, a respectable one at that because she does it well but he wants a woman who's careless with her work, who looks down on him, he wants an errand girl—

"don't speak, you’ll ruin it,” nanami groans, and in a hotel room behind closed doors, she does as she’s told. he makes her face the other way so he doesn't have to see her, hear her, he could just deal with the weird, nauseating mix of being unsatisfied later on, feeling guilty when he knows he's using someone else, she's merely an object now, he doesn't care about her or whether she likes him and it's so infuriating that he wishes to prove you wrong because he's made to press up behind you, feel his heart beating beneath the skin, racing and pounding. proof that he has one, that he's made for more than just sitting behind a desk.

so he'll compromise tonight, all until he leaves her in an empty bed the next morning, rushing off to work with geto’s money left on the bedside table.

he's even more of a pain in the ass that morning, breathing down your neck and making sure you're left with double the amount of usual things he makws you do. but also he keeps a distance, going as far as flinching away every time you so much as tap him on the shoulder. this man is on edge, like he's about to implode. "what's your deal, haven't you ever felt the touch of a woman?" you tease, just for fun, even when you know he wouldn't laugh. and he doesn't really, but instead finds himself fucking you against the wall of his office.

skirt bunched up around your middle, he rips into your stockings with his hands, ripping it and pushing your panties to the side, "i'll buy you another more so stop whining," then tells you to leave the heels on and you do. even when he holds you up in his hands, legs propped up on his shoulders, you try to keep them from slipping off. in the reflection of a mirror, you watch his muscled back flex, the walls thudding, and those heels start dangling over your toes from the sheer force, each one of his thrusts, hard and fast and deep, keeps pushing you over the edge.

the first time you come all over him, it makes you tremble and shake, the newfound revelation that he's actually so skilled is one thing but nanami kisses your neck, gently coaxing you through your release. when he moves you to a couch, he sets you atop him, legs spread wide and thighs held firmly in his hands. he adjusts himself behind you and before you could whine from just how sensitive you feel, he pushes himself back inside, stretched and full and so hot. making sure that over your shoulder, he could watch you in that same mirror, and that you'd see him too. you'd see just who exactly makes you feel this way.

and by the time he fucks you by the window, you whimper when you look out then, clear blue sky and bright sunlight, it's a beautiful day out and the street below are bustling with cars and people who are looking to make memories. some colleagues are out for lunch and others are having some fresh air, a seemly normal day, and your heart pounds, fear and excitement creeping up because anyone could see, turn their heads up to catch the view of a woman with her knees tucked to the sides of her head, squirming and bucking as her boss fucks up into her. "i'm starting to think you like this," he taunts when your moans ring out, and it's true because you were running your mouth, making a scene, you believed him to be incapable and inexperienced but now you can't think of any other man who's made you feel the way he does. nanami doesn't care one bit about the exposure, abut public indecency or whatever the fuck they'll say about him, let them see how he makes you come apart, making your mind go numb.

"you did this to me," he snarls into the crook of your neck, how often had pictured this moment and now that it's real, his cock buried inside you, the moans you let out sounding better than anything he could have imagined, and the look on your pretty face while you're succumbing to him, this snappy little thing now submitting herself. "let me know if it's too much okay?" he whispers, biting down on your neck, pounding inside you, feeling your juices run down til it drips all over the carpet floors. he'd make you call someone to get it cleaned, and he'd stress about getting it done on time so no one would suspect a thing but he'd also go back to being a pain in the ass, or maybe he'd start being a little sweet, a little kinder, gentle and tender...until he isn't.

#will i ever be able to outrun that dick post #the way i abhor it...repulsion...im removing it from the masterlist and hope no one ever reads it #jk i do love a good thirst post but still...its what i consider the opposite of a magnum opus #also ive been seeing a rise in nanami stans in my inbox...whats goin on...#i grasp the concept of stocks as a baby would astrophysics so dont @ me for inaccuracies #ask #anon #sunpiece #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fic #saturated #nanami kento #nanami smut #nanami kento hc #nanami kento hcs #nanami x reader

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sleepingdeath-light · 3 years

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reading the crossover headcanons for TOH was amazing!

i wanted to request a crossover with TOH and Steven Universe if possible! (also with Hunter x Reader) You can decide between reader being half-gem, like Steven, or fully gem! If you can't or don't want to, that's okay! Aand I really love your headcanons! You make them long and detailed! It's truly amazing.

Crossover Headcanons | SU x TOH [Hunter x Gem//Hybrid!Reader]

thank you for requesting, anon

These are written with a gender neutral reader in mind and have a general chronology from the reader’s last moments in little homeworld until they end up with Hunter, so apologies if this gets long!

Note : this is the first time I’ve written for the SU canon, so I’m not as experienced with that universe. Also my portrayal of these characters is still pretty rocky, so I may rework this in the future.

The first few months you spent in Little Homeworld had felt almost like a dream come to life; freedom to be yourself and explore a world full of organic life without the restrictions placed on you by the diamonds? It was fantastic! However, that feeling of unrestricted feeling soon started to grow stale as you realise that the growth of the small colony had already started to stagnate—and that not all humans were welcoming of intergalactic immigrants like your kind.

So to ease your mind you opted to take the warp to the next star system over—craving that same sense of excitement that you had during the gem war

Simply standing on the warp again was enough to get your blood pumping with a reignited vigour for exploration

A feeling so palpable that you failed to notice the array of spindly cracks that spanned the surface of the device, and the way that a sickly dull light pulsated beneath your feet (the sight accompanied by a warning hum far too low for you to notice)

Though you couldn’t ignore the way the warp didn’t immediately go off like usual, nor could you neglect the searing pain that spread through your veins and constricted your throat; leaving you in so much pain that you couldn’t even move or scream before your vision was engulfed in a glitching, sickeningly bright light

It must have been several hours later when you woke up, based on how high the sun was in the sky… was the sky that red before?

Your head was pounding and although your vision was blurry, yet you couldn’t ignore how different your surroundings were from the earth you were used to

The sky was a faint red and the ground beneath your feet was dusted with deep maroon grass—it was soft and warm under your fingertips but with how much organic matter there was you knew that this wasn’t a colony

Hell, you didn’t even arrive on a warp on this end, so either you had been transported to somewhere else because a malfunction (unusual, but likely) or someone had taken you from the receiving warp and dropped you off in the middle of a clearing (far less likely)

Suddenly struck with worry, you sat up and moved your clothes to get a good look at your gem, letting out a relieved sigh when you saw it undamaged (clearly you’d landed where you woke up as most organics would have tried to remove it from your body before dumping you)

Realising that you were mostly safe you slowly rose to your feet and decided to explore your new environment, hand hovering near your gem in case you needed to defend yourself from whatever creatures had made their home here—trying to make yourself appear as small, quiet and unnoticeable as possible as you went

However, your efforts seemed to be in vein as you were quickly greeted by an excitable and loud human girl who practically screamed her welcome to you

You were torn between fleeing and fighting her when she offered her hand and introduced herself as “Luz the human”, her demeanour quite closely mirroring what you’d heard about Steven when he was younger from his mothers—it was almost endearing how much she tried to hold in her joy at seeing another “human”. You almost didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth as she walked you back to her home.

You were accosted at the door by an organic tube with an owl’s face that quickly and gleefully introduced itself as Hooty—the creepy, but rather friendly, house demon

Luz made an effort to hastily brush him off and hurry you both inside where you met with the other two inhabitants of the home as well as Luz’s “awesome girlfriend”, Amity.

Eda, an older witch with grey hair that hardly suited her age, greeted you with muted suspicion, not even taking her eyes off of you as she addressed the human at your side—seemingly unsure of your motives but trusting herself to be stronger than you (if her grip on her staff was anything to go by)

King, however, was much more brazen and blatant in his distrust of you, stomping over and pointing an accusing claw up at you as he threatened you in every way he could muster (even if all that got him was a halfhearted coo from you that left the creature more frustrated and downtrodden than before)

The guest, Amity, meanwhile, looked over at you with disinterest before she caught a glimpse of your (colour) gem peeking out from your clothing—immediately pointing it out and questioning you about it, much to your chagrin

This inevitably led to a very long and semi-complicated conversation discussing the intricacies of your species and how, no, you’re technically not a human

No you weren’t trying to deceive Luz, either, you just felt too awkward to correct her

But when all was said and done (and you were all out of steam after a several hour session of intense questioning and frustration at miscommunications) they seemed much more relaxed around you—even willing to let you stay with them, at Luz’s request, so long as you pulled your weight around the house and helped to keep them safe

And, really, how hard could that be? You fought in an intergalactic war so taking out a few organics should be a piece of cake (as Steven would say)

After spending a few weeks in this strange new world you had come to realise one specific thing; it wasn’t easy. It was, in fact, the exact opposite.

If you had to bubble one more guard you were going to scream

What had they done to make this Emperor hate them so much?

It felt as though half of your time was spent bubbling, blocking or disabling people that had made their way to the Owl House—and the rest was spent painstakingly explaining your abilities and species to Amity, Lilith and Luz

Granted, that wasn’t the most stressful part of your stay

That was hands down the stresses that came with visits from Luz’s friends from Hexside: the endlessly kind and protective Willow and the ever-curious and annoyingly quick witted Gus

That being said, you did appreciate their enthusiasm to learn about and accommodate you—even if the look Willow gave you when you spoke about the empire’s treatment of organic life did leave you rather shaken

So what little free time you had was spent learning about the local culture and sharing your experiences with them

Training with Amity and Eda

Helping Willow with her plants in whatever way you can based on your gem

Creating gem clones to help Gus perfect his illusions even further

Teaching Lilith and Luz about your abilities as well as those of your fellow gems, even helping the latter learn to write using gem glyphs

It was heartwarming to see others so passionate about your home, even if their insistence on pushing you to your limits could be rather frustrating (especially early in the mornings when your patience ran thin)

However, the longer you spent there the more members of the Emperor’s Coven (amongst others) you ended up coming across. One particularly memorable instance occurred when you were escorting a fretting Amity through Bonesborough with the twins (who’s presence you had grown rather fond of as their visits became more frequent).

Ed had dragged Em back to the library a good few minutes ago, leaving you and Amity to your own decides as you weaved in and out of the foot traffic—only to stop completely when the youngest Blight suddenly froze before grabbing your hand and darting off to an adjacent alleyway

As you went to protest, she promptly clamped one hand over your mouth and gestured rather violently for you to stay quiet before nodding towards a figure just a bit away from you

From the golden mask and white cloak you knew they were a member of the Emperor’s Coven—but you’d seen them before, on the posters littered around the city, each exploring passersby to join their coven

Golden Guard

That was a definite threat

So you passed the girl a spare cloak and did what you could to mask your own appearance before carefully making your way back home, shopping be damned—one hand over your gem just in case he happened to notice you

Though thankfully he didn’t

Not that it stopped you from filing him away as someone to be wary of anyway; he was the emperor’s right hand man, after all, so there was no such thing as being “too cautious”

And for a while that’s exactly what it was, not that you saw much of him that is, but from what you’d been told about Luz and Amity’s run ins with him you were glad to have never seen him face-to-face. If you had, you were almost certain he wouldn’t come out unscathed—teenage protege or not.

So with all that in mind, the last that you were expecting to see on a relatively peaceful Saturday evening was the unmasked Golden Guard practically unconscious and leaning on Luz and Eda for support as they burst through the door

Completely ignoring Hooty as usual as they carefully laid him down on the seat beside you (after you’d hurriedly gotten up, that is)

He looked to be in an awful state, with his visible skin bloodied, bruised and scarred whilst his usually pristine uniform was tattered and caked in dirt and what seemed to be even more of his blood

Seeming to notice your distress, Eda briefly addressed you and her sister before sending you all off to gather supplies (or heal if your gem allowed it)

“The kid’s been through a lot, but he’s with us now. Trust me, I wouldn’t have carried him all this way if I had any doubts about it.”

And that was that

It took Hunter (as he introduced himself) over a week to even be able to get out of bed and walk around unassisted—and whilst he actively avoided speaking about what had happened to him, you had a feeling that Belos was somehow involved

Though things were still rather tense for a month or so after he arrived, no matter how hard Luz tried to integrate him (and no matter how polite and welcoming Willow and Gus tried to be)

And you didn’t even want to recall the shouting match that occurred when Amity saw him in the living room with Luz….

It seemed as though he was just more content to shut himself away with L’il Rascal and only interact with Luz and Eda; the former to learn from her and the latter because she wouldn’t let him get away with anything but

That wasn’t even mentioning the palpable tension between him and Lilith (she would only say that it was from their time in the coven—and Luz suspected he’d annoyed her a bit too much—but nothing else would come of it)

But the others were worried about him, so you were sent in as a neutral party to talk with him about… things. You weren’t really told what and you didn’t have the time to ask.

Initially he was incredibly closed off and would only address you briefly, barely even acknowledging your presence as he gave his full attention to the scattered papers on his desk, each depicting a different spell and each ever so slightly off

So, as gently as you could you took the quill from him and drew a simple glyph on a spare scalp of paper, carefully leading him through the motions before leaning back and activating the spell (and smiling at his much more openly interested expression)

That then sparked a deep conversation about different types of magic—specifically wild magic and glyphs—as you shared what you knew about the topic with one another, every so often breaking off into laughter or patient silence as he’d run across the room to show you his notes or books he’d found

Naturally this would lead to him asking you about where you came from and you discussing your origins with him

Homeworld

The Diamond Authority

The gem war

Colonies

Soldiers

Shattering

The Crystal Gems

Everything

He was incredibly easy to talk to as he listened with a genuine intensity to what you said, nodding along and even asking well thought out questions about your world where appropriate

Depending on how close you were, he may even ask to see your gem and ask about its purpose

If you let him touch it, he’d be so very gentle, almost treating you as though you were made of glass—maybe even sketching it down and noting down your abilities and weaknesses in his personal notebook and apologising if it was weird

This mutual interest in magic and your shared experiences of either having to conform to a specific role your whole life [full gem reader] or feeling out of place and weaker because of your shortcomings [half gem reader] would be the basis of your friendship turned relationship. The transition between the two would be so incredibly seamless and slow that you wouldn’t even notice it happening—one moment you two were best friends sparring and the next you were hiding your blushing face in his neck as he hugs you and apologises for hitting you a bit too hard with his magic.

Your relationship would be sweet and slow and genuine

Hunter is new to receiving any kind of affection, so you’d probably have to teach him a thing or two—but he’d learn quite quickly so don’t worry

He’d spend hours studying your culture and language just to write you notes or offer you affirmations in ways unique to your culture, even calling you “my (Y/n)” after a while

Likewise, the first time you called him “my Hunter” he was left red in the face for the rest of the day (he loved it, though, so don’t stop)

But the moment someone makes a teasing remark about how soft he’s gotten (usually one of the Blight siblings or his own younger sister figure, Luz), Hunter will partially revert to being cold in public (whilst still being affectionate and openly touch starved in private)

In short, your relationship with him would be built on a foundation of mutual trust, affection and understanding that sprouted from friendship and honest conversations about your passions and pasts

#reader insert #sleepingdeath hub #hcs #headcanons #steven universe #su #toh x su #the owl house #the owl house x reader #the owl house golden guard #the owl house hunter #toh #toh x reader #toh golden guard #toh hunter #hunter x reader #golden guard x reader

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inkykeiji · 3 years

Text

anonymous said: i would like to suggest, keigo having you on speed dial to call you up and use you whenever he's too pent up because his public girlfriend wont sleep with him. you feel guilty for being the other woman but you were such a big fan of his. you want to end this but keigo isn’t about to let his little bird get away

warnings: 18+, dubcon, rough sex, manipulation, minimal prep, cheating, mentions of caning, noncon photography, dacryphilia, slight degradation peppered with slight praise

words: 3.3k

Gentle vibrations coursing through your mattress and quivering softly against your skin rouse you from your half-conscious state, bleary eyes blinking slowly as you gain your bearings again. It’s late, the wall of full-length crystal windows allowing the moon’s beams to stream into your condo, weakened by the magnificent glow of the city below it, encased in halos of turquoise and jade and violet.

And then, the vibrations start again, and your heart drops.

You know who it is before you even glance at the screen of your phone. Only one person ever calls you this late.

You had been expecting it, to be honest. Crime has hit an all-time high, and it seems like every time you turn on the news, or scroll through your social media feed, there’s a fresh story about a new villain he’s just defeated, headlines in big bold letters, peppered with photos of windswept golden hair and an award-winning smile, or grainy footage of him zipping around, so fast he’s just a blur of gold and crimson, as he neutralizes the enemy, serif words chalk full of praise for the Number Two Hero. As always.

It makes you sick, makes your stomach churn with a toxic mixture of guilt and revulsion.

Yet, in spite of this, your hand moves on its own, disobeying your brain as it screams at it to let it go to voicemail, just this once, thumb pressing that little green button before bringing the heavy electronic to your ear, quiet and groggy as you answer.

“I’m in the lobby,” his smooth voice, always laced with just a hint of cheekiness, flows through the speaker like melted chocolate, dark and decadent. “Let me in?”

You know he could get in on his own if he really wanted to—he chose this building for a reason, after all. He chose you for a reason, after all.

He could’ve had anyone—could still have anyone—he wanted, with a plethora of beautiful, adoring, devoted young women hanging on his every word, but he picked you. He picked you, because no matter how dedicated and supportive all of those other girls are, none of them have ever loved him the way you did—the way you do.

The feeling lingers, much to your disgust. It lingers when he gives you that gentle, private smile—the one the cameras have never seen, the one that he saves just for you, in the middle of the night after he’s filled you with cum and sucked his name into your neck; lingers when he murmurs sweet nothings into your hair, arms curling around you in the early morning sun; lingers when he fucks you stupid, until you’re a sobbing, drooling mess, until all you can think about is his cock.

The soles of your bare feet echo as they pad against the marble floor, powerless to stop the heavy sigh that slips from between your lips as you fiddle with the little keypad close to the front door, those soft beepbeepbeeps forcing chills to skitter across your skin.

Once, this condo had been everything you had ever wanted. Once, you had considered yourself lucky to be the mistress of such a well-known, distinguished, so-called good man. Once, you had dreamt of him, every single night, of lazy smiles and easygoing drawls, of wicked golden eyes and matching tousled hair.

Once.

Now, it feels like nothing but a cold, empty cage. Fitting, you snort to yourself, shaking your head a little.

Now, all of those extravagant items he had bought for you—the expensive coffee machine, the stupidly massive 4K TV, all of the shimmering dresses and lavish coats, the silk sheets outfitting your gigantic bed, the delicate Agent Provocateur lingerie—have bile rising in the back of your throat, coating your tongue in bitterness, dread sinking thick and heavy in your stomach, turning your blood to concrete in your veins.

Now, that golden gaze makes your skin crawl, those large, impossibly soft hands—protected by those ridiculous gloves, of course—make you want to scrub your body with scalding water until it’s raw, until you’ve ridded yourself of his stare, of his touch, of his scent—sickly sweet and sticky like toffee, blazing and spicy like cinnamon.

And yet, the feeling still lingers, taking root deep at the very core of your body, feeding off your soul like a fucking parasite.

Teeth clack against yours the moment your front door swings open, your body slammed up against the wall a second later as he skillfully kicks the door shut, producing an echo of tremors through the surrounding walls much too loud for three in the morning.

Hands, silky and smooth, are gliding up your bare thighs, playing with the hem of your lacy babydoll slip, lithe fingers tangling in it and pulling as he sucks on your tongue.

“Missed you,” he mumbles between kisses, catching your bottom lip and tugging on it just to hear you whine, a delicious chuckle vibrating against your mouth a moment later, inspiring a shameful, scalding heat to begin spreading in the pit of your belly. “So much,”

“Did you?” and you hate how breathless you already are, hate the way your head tilts and neck arches as his lips travel down the sensitive skin, nipping gently with his front teeth.

“You know I did,” he singsongs, but you can hear the irritation sown into his tone. Hands grip your shoulders, pinning you against the wall, a soft noise of surprise escaping your lips. “Mm,” he hums appreciatively, pulling back a little as lidded eyes scan your form, dark like thick caramel when they meet yours again. “You know this one’s my favourite,”

It is, composed entirely of scarlet lace that dips just below your sternum, the delicate material clinging to your body like a second skin, leaving very little to the imagination.

His hands roam, taking the hem of the dainty fabric with him as he pushes it over your hips, up your abdomen and to your breasts, before letting the garment slide down your body again.

The softest, sweetest mewl of his name escapes your lips as the tip of his tongue flicks over a lace covered nipple, circling it once before taking it between his teeth and tugging slightly.

Another laugh, deep and dark, vibrates against your chest, while a hand slips between your thighs, a soft groan rumbling in his chest.

“Such a good, good girl for me, aren’t you?” Two fingers rub achingly slow circles into your clit, Keigo’s tongue darting out of his mouth to lick at a pert nipple again, drenching the lace in saliva. “Following the rules, just like I asked,”

A whimper catches in your throat and you nod, spikes of sharp fear shooting through your stomach as faded memories float languidly through your mind. You can barely remember it, brain so delirious from the pain that you hardly retained any of the experience, but the sound of the cane slicing through the air, mingled with the sound of your own wails echoing throughout the bachelor condo, the intense sting of its impact against your bare skin, the ache in your fingers from gripping the bedsheets that lingered for days later…Those you remember.

He had turned your backside into a brilliant piece of art, you remember him telling you, the morning after when gentle fingers were rubbing cream into your wounds, the obnoxious click! of his phone camera sounding a few moments later seared into your memory. Such a beautiful masterpiece, full of periwinkle and indigo, and it was all for him—because of him.

You couldn’t sit properly for a week and a half after the incident, and that you’ll never forget, either.

All because you had broken one teeny tiny rule, a rule you didn’t even know was a rule, a rule you thought he had been joking about—no panties when sleeping.

Two fingers pushing into your little hole snaps your mind back to the present, a whine falling from your lips as your hips push towards his palm, instantly craving more of him. Curved lips, formed in the shape of a sinful smirk, drag along your jaw as he murmurs to you. You like that, baby? Huh? Did you miss me as much as I missed you?

It’s only been a few days since you saw him last, but you find yourself nodding anyway, breathy little yeses exhaled through parted lips as his fingers pump in and out of you, knuckles curling with each pull out, catching on the spot that has you moaning out his name, that has you pathetically trying to fuck yourself on his fingers, that has you begging for more.

He’s always impatient anyway, barely takes any time to stretch you out—just enough so it isn’t uncomfortable for him, really, scissoring his fingers and grinding the heel of his palm against your clit until it’s throbbing, until he deems you wet enough to take him.

The drywall quivers as Keigo deftly spins you, shoving you against it, a low whine sounding in the back of your throat.

“I’m gonna fuck you in this,” he says decidedly, as if he’s just chosen what his lunch will be for tomorrow, big hands roaming over your ass, kneading and squeezing.

“Keigo, please, not here—”

“Shh,” he hushes you, and his voice is so gentle, so tender, gathering the delicate lace in his fists and pushing it up, up, up, until it bunches around your waist. “Be good for me, yeah?” sharp teeth sink into the back of your neck hard enough to break the skin, an alpha marking his territory, your responding cry muffled by the wall. “I’ve had such a long day,” he mumbles against you, licking over the bite. “Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about you all day, y’know,” his hips grind against your ass, hard cock nearly slipping between your cheeks and accentuating his point, the thin fabric of his grey sweatpants being the only barrier between you. “And that bitch couldn’t satisfy me right even if her life depended on it,”

His tone darkens at the end, and you hate the way it still manages to send a flock of butterflies fluttering through your stomach, hole clenching greedily around nothing.

“So be a good girl—” a slap echoes throughout the empty apartment as his palm collides with your skin. “—and lift your hips for me,”

And then he’s tugging, hands wrapped around your hips as blunt nails dig into your flesh and hoist up, forcing you onto your tiptoes. You obey, of course, because you always obey, aiding him by pushing your ass towards him, chest and cheek pressed up against the wall.

A shiver courses through your body as he leans away for a moment, taking his body heat with him, the shutter of his phone camera click!ing a few times in quick succession.

“Fuck,” he breathes, heat returning as he taps the head of his cock against your soaking cunt, reveling in the soft, wet little slaps. “You’re so beautiful,”

And he sounds so honest, so sincere, unexpected tears springing into your eyes and blurring your vision. Because his words shouldn’t, they absolutely shouldn’t inspire a deep warmth to bloom in your chest, but they do. It’s selfish, and pathetic, and derisive, sour shame taking root at your core a moment later, black and inky and rushing through your veins, eating up the warmth in an instant.

But Keigo shatters it all a second later with one quick, sharp thrust, burying himself deep within you, cockhead nudging against your cervix.

A yelp hitches in your throat at the sudden action, tears spilling over your lashline as your little hole burns, struggling to accommodate his girth. “Too thick, Kei, too thick,”

He doesn’t care, he tells you with a breathless chuckle, hips setting a punishing pace right from the start, refusing you even a moment to adjust. He knows you love it, he says to you, words growled into your ear with a sadistic smile, punctuated by the harsh slap of skin against skin that accompanies each of his thrusts.

Your nails scrape against the drywall, trying in vain to grip something, anything, to keep you upright as he pounds into you. A harsh gust of wind swirls around you, cool against your heated skin, and then his wings are caging you in, slamming against the drywall with such force that bits of it crack and crumble. Your hands fly out to grip them, little fingers curling around the edges as you try to keep yourself steady for him.

The sweetest moan escapes his lips, hoarse and whiny in the back of his throat as you clamp down on them, fingers slotting through the sharp feathers, hissing through your teeth as they leave superficial cuts along your sensitive skin.

It’s beginning to build, that familiar heat pooling in the pit of your stomach, coiling tighter and tighter and tighter with each snap of his hips, broken whimpers and airy little Kei!’s slipping from your parted lips as your legs begin to tremble.

A deep growl rumbles in his chest as he tells you to keep standing, damn it, the order spit through clenched teeth as his fingers grip your hips, spots of blue and purple blooming under them.

You’re trying, you want to tell him, words leaving your throat in the form of pitiful little sobs as your fingers clutch his wings, joints aching and stiff from being curled in the same position for so long.

The heat is rising, higher and higher and higher until your choking on it, scalding your tongue and blistering your throat.

“M’gonna—” you gasp out, the words garbled with spit as teary eyes roll back in your skull.

“Yeah—Y-Yeah,” he encourages breathlessly, hips gaining more speed with each piston into you, cock repeatedly dragging against that spot, the one that alights your entire body, that shoots tingling sparks up your spine and through your veins. “C’mon, baby, cum for me, cum—” a low grunt cuts him off, hips stuttering. “—Cum on my cock,”

It’s pathetic, really, how quickly your body obeys, knees nearly buckling as uncontrollable mewls of his name escape your lips, catching in your chest with his ruthless thrusts as you gush around him, cute little cunt clenching almost painfully on his thick cock.

“Good—Good girl. Now beg for it,” and he’s nearly whining, voice cracking as his movements begin to falter.

Pleads spill from your lips before you even know what you’re saying, voice absolutely wrecked as you beg for him to please, gimme your cum, please k-keigo, want it, I want it, I want it, fill me up, please, please, please!

Honestly, how can he deny you when you’re asking so nicely, so prettily for him, hips messily pounding into you three more times before he stills, the weight of his body crushing you against the wall as his cock pulses, filling you with ropes upon ropes of thick, hot cum.

And he’s relentless that night, insatiable that night—fucking you over the arm of the couch, deep and hard and fast, cockhead slamming against your bruised cervix as a hand fists in your hair and yanks you up, snarling out the dirtiest words as his lips graze your ear, then praising you for being such a good little cockslut for him; fucking you in your giant jacuzzi bathtub, nimble fingers digging into your hips as he forces you to ride him, reinstating the fresh bruises from not long before; fucking you into your plush mattress, sharp hipbones signing his name into the soft flesh of your inner thighs in blotches of navy and violet as endless tears leak from your eyes, streaming into your hairline, head beginning to throb from dehydration.

The sun is just beginning to rise, peaking over the horizon and painting the city in a soft golden light. The buzzing of a phone on your nightstand rouses you from your half-asleep state for the second time, lifting your head to blink blearily at Keigo, who rolls his eyes without even glancing at the caller. It’s her—you know it is, calling to ask him where the hell he is, if he’s alright, if he’s coming home soon, if he’s safe—and acrid guilt settles on your tongue.

He lets it go to voicemail without a second thought.

“I hate her,”

“Break up with her, then,”

“And what, date you?” he snorts, and although you know he doesn’t mean for it to, it still stings. Rolling over, he turns to face you, his head propped up by his palm. “You know I wish I could,” he says softly, his free hand reaching out to cup your cheek, fingers grazing your cheekbone. “You know I would if I could, but…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but he doesn’t need to—you’ve heard it a thousand times before.

Doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

But she’s the daughter of a world-renowned, established hero—you’re a quirkless nobody. But she’s good for his image, good for his brand—you’re not.

Sometimes, though, after he’s fucked you into a boneless mess, when he’s laying in your bed with a cigarette perched so artfully between his fingers, he opens up, allows you a tiny peak inside that gorgeous head of his.

Tonight it’s something you’ve heard before, but you don’t mind listening anyway, drawing nonsensical patterns on his bare chest, little fingers following the dips and curves of strong muscle, gliding under smooth skin that almost shines gold in the pale morning light, little blonde hairs catching in the beams as he breathes slowly.

It fucking sucks, he’s telling you, honey eyes trained on your finger’s movements, following its ministrations in a trance. He never wanted this—never asked for this, he admits to you, as he has so many times before, at four in the morning when the city is at its quietest, just before it begins to wake with the dawn of the sun. He hates it, all of the obligations and responsibilities that have been thrust upon him since he was a child.

“Sometimes I feel like my spine’s gonna fucking crack under all of it,” he laughs a little, though it’s wobbly and frail, looking away from you as he stubs out his cigarette.

“It’s just exhausting,” he flops onto his back with a deep sigh, staring up at the ceiling. And you can hear it, his voice heavy with fatigue, with the duties that have been forced upon him, the ideals he’s been forced to uphold, laced with a hint of melancholy.

It makes your heart ache, despite the derision you now feel towards him. You don’t know his struggle—never could, never will—but he looks so…sad, eyes desolate as they gaze up at nothing, lips pressed together in a thin line. And that spark of love, the one you repeatedly keep trying to snuff out, blazes with the need to comfort him.

Reaching over, gentle fingers card through his sweaty golden locks, soft and shining in the dim light. His chest rises and falls with the effort of another sigh, eyes closing briefly at your touch, nuzzling ever so slightly into you.

“But at least I’ve got you, right?” he rolls onto his side, hands finding your hips as he drags you towards him, pulling you into his embrace and crushing your body against his chest. “You’ll never leave me, will you, my little bird,”

And although it isn’t phrased as a question—because he already knows the answer—you respond anyway, swallowing thickly against the acid rising past the lump lodged in your throat. “No, Keigo, never,”

#takami keigo x reader #takami keigo smut #hawks x reader #hawks smut #takami keigo #this is how we're gonna do ask oneshots now #because they're TOO LONG jfc #my own fault i know #WHEWWWW WAY LONGER THAN IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN LOL #HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEIGO I GUESS #tw manipulation #tw cheating #tw degradation

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neon-junkie · 3 years

Text

“Nice plan.”

Summary: There's an enemy tailgating you and Crosshair through the busy streets of Coruscant, and you spontaneously come up with a plan to show the stranger that your two aren't a threat.

Pairing: Crosshair x gn!Reader

Rating: SFW

Word count: 1617

Tags: First kiss, Surprise kissing, Friends to lovers, Missions.

Notes: If you like my work then please reblog it!! xx

Being in the heart of the battlefield is common for you, but not for your associate; Crosshair enjoys his comfort up on cliffs, tucked away, viewing the world through his rifle's scope. Sure, he's been shot at before, and he's got the wounds to prove it, but the world is extremely different for him, now that he's trailing behind you through the centre of it. Well, soon to be the centre of it. Everybody has split up, taking their positions and waiting for said target to arrive. The streets of Coruscant are busy, as always, making it easier to weave through undetected. You're trying to find a ledge to overlook the club that the target is in, and once you're ready, you'll com Hunter and watch as he goes inside to draw the target out. The only problem is that there's a lack of ladders around these buildings, and you can't exactly scale up one of the walls without looking... odd.

So, you and Crosshair continue peering down alleys, searching for something to give you that boost to the upper levels. You can sense how tense Crosshair is; he's not fond of people, nor crowds, and thankfully they don't pay him much attention, despite being fully kitted out - Coruscant is used to the sight of armoured men, clone or not. You overhear Crosshair grumble under his breath, his patience running dry as you turn another corner to find nothing of use, only people mindlessly wandering by. However, an unfortunate thing does cross your eye as you go to turn around the next corner, only to stop in your tracks, letting out a sharp exhale as Crosshair accidentally bumps into you. "Why have you stopped?" he questions, and you can hear the annoyance in his tone, despite his voice being distorted through his helmet. You peer behind the corner again, double-checking what thought you just saw. Yep, your target's friends have begun heading your way, presumably going to meet up with the target in the club. "We have company," you explain, and begin heading back down the alley you just came from, Crosshair following behind. Thankfully, your target nor his friends know about you and your posse, nor do they know that they're being tracked - soon to be captured. You have the advantage of being anonymous, another pair of strangers throughout the sea of people that cover every square inch of Coruscant, but you still don't want to do anything that may draw attention - such as trailing them. "Just let them walk past, they don't know who we are," Crosshair suggests, walking beside you rather than behind. "And we should keep it that way. We don't want to look suspicious-" "-Doesn't this look suspicious? Coming back the way we came?" He has a point. Another small alley catches your attention, one that you're yet to go down, and you drag Crosshair by his wrist, pulling him down the surprisingly quiet passage. It backs onto a bunch of shops, with loth-cats rummaging through bins, and strangers sat on their back porches. "Are they still following us?" you question. Crosshair peers slightly over his shoulder. "Yes," he states. "You're taking us down an alley that leads to the back of the club. Have you not been paying attention to where we've been walking?" "I was more focused on finding a ladder." Crosshair lets out a defeated sigh. "We should have scaled a wall. It's Coruscant, people do weird things here all the time." As true as his statement may be, your target and his friends would definitely suspect something if they saw two strangers scaling up a wall, especially when they have bounties on their heads. A ladder it is, hopefully. Your comlink flashes, and Hunter questions what's taking so long. After explaining that Coruscant is lacking in the ladder department, and that your target has a few broody looking friends, he suggests that you two find somewhere safe to hide instead. Hunter needs to draw the target out before his buddies arrive, so the mission goes on without you two. No bother, this isn't the first time they've had to leave one of you out, or two... The alley finally leads to the back of the club, and there's a hefty crowd of people. This is the smoking area, possibly? But the sight of another alley catches your attention, a thin one, somewhat safe and hidden behind the thickness of strangers. You two begin weaving your way through, eventually coming to a halt between the tight walls. You prop yourself against one, and Crosshair takes the other, your feet touching subconsciously. It's a tight squeeze. You let out a deep breath, thankful that you're not buried under a helmet or a heap of armour; Crosshair seems indifferent, looking out over the sea of people and watching as the targets friends begin heading inside the club. Phew, you went unnoticed, just two strangers making their way through the universe. "One of them is coming this way," Crosshair unfortunately announces, his eyes meeting yours under the thickness of his visor. "I told you we shouldn't have come back the way we came." Shit. Ugh. Hunter told you two to stay safe and hidden, and this is definitely not heading in the direction that you want it to go. You look at your surroundings, attempting to find an escape route, but all you can see is a variety of strangers, busy chatting away, mingling, unaware of the danger that surrounds them. Wait. Maybe you can make it look as if you're just another pair of strangers in this crowd, and it'll be hard for your tailgater to begin asking questions and making accusations if both your mouths are occupied. "Take off your helmet," you order, and frown as Crosshair laughs from beneath it. "This isn't a very smart plan. I'd prefer having my helmet on if this stranger is going to start-" "-Just take it off! Trust me!" You cut him off, and watch as Crosshair grumbles whilst removing his helmet, cooping it beneath his arm. "Now what?" Crosshair questions, unimpressed as ever. You peek over the crowd and pull a worried expression as the stranger continues nearing, struggling to get through the thickness of people, and even barging a few clueless people out of the way. People always seem to forget that manners are a blessing. There's a sickly feeling in your stomach, both nervous about kissing your associate, and nervous that he'll reject you. How are you meant to explain this plan? Ask him to kiss you? Attempt to explain your silly thoughts to him? There's no time, and words fail you. Crosshair raises a brow as you babble "sorry," split seconds before stepping between his feet, placing a soft hand on his armoured chest, and pressing your lips to his. Crosshair freezes. He's tense, thick, eyes widening. You're kissing him. If his lip weren't occupied then he'd laugh and comment "brilliant plan," because it really is, but instead he stupidly stands there, as if he's forgotten how to function, let alone kiss back. And unknown to you, he has butterflies churning in his stomach, along with a thick lump in his throat. But he finally kisses back, his spare gloved hand moving up to cup the back of your head as he moves his lips against yours. Just in time, too, as the stranger who was about to begin asking questions realizes that you're just another pair of lovesick fools in this sea of people. He rolls his eyes at the sight before beginning his journey back through the crowd, heading into the club to unfortunately find that the rest of his crew has gone missing. Neither of you peek open your eyes to wonder if the stranger has gone away, but nobody has attempted to catch your attention, meaning the stranger must be gone. He's gone, you two are safe, and neither of you are moving away. The grip on the back of your head tightens, and Crosshair gambles a bold move by lightly running his tongue across your lower lip, only to be welcomed into your mouth. You can feel the corners of his lips move, turning upwards, smiling as you allow him to make the kiss messier. It's needy, desperate, and something that you've both been craving for a long time. "I think he's gone," Crosshair quietly mutters against your lips, not giving you the ability to answer as he kisses you again. Sadly, the sound of your comlink beeping forces your lips to part, and you remain pressed up against Crosshair as you answer. It's Hunter, ordering you two to return to the ship. They have the target, the mission was successful in every aspect. Every. Aspect. "We should get back. You know what Hunter's like if he's kept waiting," Crosshair comments. His hand removes itself from the back of your head, and he gives your hip a comforting squeeze before fully moving away. "Yeah, come on," you sigh, and unwantingly pull your body away from his. You're about to begin heading through the crowd once more, but Crosshair lightly tugs your wrist. "Nice plan," he comments, a smug expression across his lips. The expression disappears as he puts his helmet back on, although you know he's going to be looking smug for a long time. You did kiss him, after all, but he also kissed you back. "Thanks," you reply. "You played your role well," you jab back, earning your own smug expression before turning your focus to heading through the sea of people, overhearing Crosshair laugh behind you, his hand slipping down your wrist to entwine his fingers between yours, keeping you close.

#swwriting #the bad batch #crosshair x reader #sfw #gender neutral reader #star wars #crosshair x you #gn!reader #nice plan #tbbwriting

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animatedarchives · 3 years

Text

ALMOST IS NEVER ENOUGH

— 𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐔

author’s note: hi guys!! this is my angstvember piece for the @babythotshq brokenhearts club playlist collab ^^ i hope yall like it!! <3

genre: a lot of angst

warnings: death, hospitals, mentions of a coma and an accident, illness

word count: 2.9k words

The sun hung low in the vast amber sky as Oikawa clutched the bouquet of velvet red roses in his hand.

Today’s the day. Today’s the day I tell her I love her.

The sound of his footsteps echoed throughout the pristine white corridors, the smell of rubbing alcohol and disinfectant piercing mercilessly through his lungs. He’d visited you every day since you were admitted, and even then he still never got used to the smell. He couldn’t wait for you to leave this place.

It was your last day here after all.

You were finally going to be discharged.

He stopped right outside your door, bringing his hand up to knock a familiar rhythm. The same one you both had used when you were playing house during your childhood.

“Hey, it’s me,” he said, poking his head into the room.

“I was wondering what took you so long,” you smirked as you watched him close the door behind him. “What’s with all the flowers?” you asked, nodding at the bouquet in his hands.

“What, I can’t surprise my best friend with something nice every once in a while?”

You scoffed. “You’re only nice when you need something from me.”

Oikawa gasped dramatically. “Y/N! How could you be so cruel?” he whined. You let out a small laugh at his theatrics, and he smiled at the way the sound fell so smoothly from your lips. He’d always thought you were so effortlessly beautiful. Your laughter died down and you spared a glance at the clock hanging on the wall opposite your bed.

“Can’t wait to leave?” Oikawa asked. You smiled and shook your head. He was always so attentive to everything you did.

“This place isn’t as bad as you think it is, you know. I think you’re more eager for me to leave than I am,” you teased. Oikawa pouted and you gently poked the side of his cheek. You didn’t press very hard but he absentmindedly leaned against your finger, craving your physical touch.

“What’s the first thing you want to do when we get out of here?” he asked. A strange silence fell as you contemplated your best friend’s question. He watched as you cast your eyes down to your lap where you were picking at your fingers, a habit you had when you were nervous about something. Oikawa’s brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what could possibly be wrong.

“The park,” you spoke softly. Oikawa snapped out of his thoughts as a pang of nostalgia hit him square in the chest.

“I’d want to go to the park,” you said more confidently, lifting your head to meet his gaze. His heart skipped a beat hearing you say it again, the memories from your childhood coming back to him in an unrestrained flood.

“Close your eyes, Y/N!” Oikawa said, watching as you eagerly cupped your hands over your eyes.

“No peeking!” he called behind him before running off to the nearest rose bush. He scrutinised every flower before plucking the one he thought looked the most perfect. You deserved only the best from him, after all. Oikawa quickly returned to the middle of the gazebo where you stood, a new gift in hand.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now,” he said and watched as your orbs lit up with pure delight at the sight of your favourite flower.

“My sister says I’m too young to have a girlfriend but if I told her that if I ever had one… I’d…” Oikawa trailed off but he steeled himself to say it.

“I’d only want it to be you.”

For reasons you had yet to understand, your blood began to pump faster and your stomach started to flutter. Oikawa cheeks turned pink as he slowly extended the flower to you.

“P-promise me that when we grow up, you’ll be my girlfriend and that we’ll be together forever!” he exclaimed, leaving you too stunned to react. “Promise me!” he repeated more earnestly, shaking the rose with growing desperation.

The thought of spending the rest of your life with your best friend was everything you could have dreamed of. You didn’t need to wait for your Prince Charming like the princesses in all the fairytales you’d read.

You had already found him.

“I promise!” you squealed as you grabbed the rose from him to officially seal the deal. “Let’s live happily ever after, okay?” you grinned.

Oikawa’s grip on the bouquet tightened, the crinkling of the plastic wrap sucking him back into reality. He didn’t expect you to remember, let alone want to revisit the place where the pact had been made. His heart leapt into his throat. Wait… Could it be?

“Tooru, I need to tell you something—”

“Y/N, wait,” he cut you off. He wanted to be the first one to say it. He had to be. “Let me say something first. Please.”

Oikawa sucked in a breath, trying to summon the same courage he had mustered all those years ago. He thanked fate for giving him the perfect opportunity to bring it up; it was his intention to tell you by the end of the day anyway. The golden rays of the setting sun streamed softly through the window, bathing the room in a warm orange glow. How romantic.

It was now or never.

“I remember the total despair I felt after being told that you’d been in an accident. You were in a coma for weeks and I came to visit you every day, wondering if you were ever going to wake up. I never brought up the promise we made during our childhood because I didn’t know if you still felt the same way. But after I thought I lost you, the regret I felt far outweighed any other emotion I had. I hated myself for being a coward, because even the slightest possibility of having everything I ever wanted was stripped away from me.”

Oikawa brought the bouquet up, taking in a shaky breath to calm his racing heart. “I don’t want to live with regrets anymore, and I’m not going to leave here today without telling you how I truly feel,” he said, bringing his gaze up to look you in the eyes.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you and I don’t want to take you for granted ever again. We’ve spent our entire lives together and I don’t want it to stop. You’re still the only one I want to be with and…” he trailed off, bracing himself as he finally said his thoughts out loud.

“I still want to spend forever with you.”

The following silence was agonising. Oikawa could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he waited for your answer. All his senses were on edge as he watched your every move. Until finally, a small smile crept onto your lips, causing Oikawa to visibly sigh with relief. You reached out to accept the roses, as well as his confession. Your fingers brushed against his and even that small touch was enough to send his heart into overdrive. He was so completely and utterly in love with you.

“I love you too, Tooru,” you smiled at him, and he felt about a thousand fireworks going off in his chest.

“But…”

Oikawa’s face fell and the fireworks fizzled out as quickly as they were lit.

‘But’? No no no, no ‘but’. Why ‘but’? Everything was going so well, w-why ‘but’?

“There’s something I need to tell you…” you admitted quietly. Your eyes flicked back up at the clock, the setting sun casting a shadow over the room. Oikawa followed your gaze across the room and suddenly, the clock seemed so much more menacing, slowly ticking away like a timebomb counting down to an impending doom.

“You’re right Tooru, I am leaving the hospital today. But I’m not just leaving the hospital… I’m leaving for good.” You finally turned to face him and for the first time that day, he saw you completely unmasked, the despair in your eyes strong and apparent.

“I’m dying, Tooru.”

Oikawa’s chest tightened, and it felt like the air had been forced out of his lungs. Suddenly, it was hard for him to breathe.

“D-dying? What do you mean you’re dying? How much time do you have left?!”

As if to give a cruel answer to his question, your monitor started beeping erratically, forcing your chest to rise and fall until you were practically gasping for air.

None.

“Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?!” Oikawa rushed to your bedside, grabbing your frail arms with his large hands. When did you become so thin? Although the sunlight was slowly fading, it was only now that he could see everything with such clarity. It was like he had been given a pair of brand new eyes.

Your face had sunken in, your skin was so much paler and you looked terribly ill. As if on cue, you began to cough, reaching beneath your blanket to reveal a red-stained cloth, the same sickly shade as the roses Oikawa had brought. Had you been hiding this from him? His eyes widened in horror as you coughed heavily into the fabric, pulling it away to fresh splotches of thick, red blood. Oikawa didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t even react. He just stood there, rooted to the ground as he watched the love of his life slipping away in front of his very eyes.

“T-Tooru…”

Hearing you say his name in your now hoarse voice clicked something in his brain and he shook himself out of his daze. Oikawa rushed to the doorway to call for help, screaming for someone to rescue his dying friend, but no one was there to listen.

Oikawa panicked and quickly descended into a frenzy. He desperately tried to pour you a glass of water, even though his hands were shaking. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. He frantically tried to get you to drink the water, but all you did was cough it back up. That was when reality finally settled in.

And he completely lost it.

“Please Y/N, please don’t leave me like this! You have to stay so I can finally love you! So we can finally be together and I can finally call you mine! I still have to kiss you, we still have to go on our first date. I… I still want to marry you, to grow old together with you. I still want to journey through the rest of life together with you, all the way from the beginning to the end. We’re supposed to write our love story together, remember?” he cried.

“What’s going to happen to our happily ever after?”

You smiled sadly at him, trying to suppress the coughs that threatened to rip through your throat. You raised your hand weakly and brought it up to cup the side of his face, using your thumb to tenderly stroke his cheek. Oikawa’s eyes began to well up at your sudden affection, the type that he’d always wanted with you. The type that he’d never be able to receive again. He leaned into your touch as tears began to blur his vision.

“Tooru, listen to me,” you spoke quietly. You were always so gentle, so tender and loving.

“I have loved you for as long as I can remember. I remember when you carried me when I scraped my knee at the playground, how you used your favourite alien-patterned plaster to cover it, and then bought me ice cream to cheer me up.”

“I remember when my date ditched me at prom and you found me sulking at the corner of the hall.” You let your hand fall to where he was tightly gripping the rails of your hospital bed and laid your hand gently over his. You felt him relax against your touch, turning his hand upwards and interlacing your fingers with his.

“I remember you asking me to dance, holding my hand in yours as we slow-danced the night away,” you squeezed his hand, smiling as the feeling reminded you of how his hands had felt on you that very night.

“I remember every single moment with you, Tooru. How you held me up when I was crumbling, and promised me that you’d always be there for me. And you were. Because I remember when I woke up from my coma to find you asleep on the side of my bed, tired from staying up and waiting for me to come to. I remember how you hugged me and cried because you almost lost me. I remember how you made me promise to never do that to you again.” Your resolve began to crumble together with your depleting strength as you choked out the next few words.

“I’m sorry that I have to break that promise. Because this time, you’re going to lose me for good.”

Oikawa’s lips trembled as he shook his head in denial, his breathing ragged as hot tears poured from his eyes. Without another word, he leaned down towards you and closed his eyes, gently pressing his lips against yours. It was wet and sloppy, but still as sweet as he’d always imagined it to be. You broke the kiss and held his face in both of your hands.

“I’m sorry I have to say goodbye, Tooru,” you apologised, tasting the saltiness of your tears as they slipped between your lips.

“Don’t. Please,” Oikawa whispered in anguish. “Please don’t say goodbye.”

The wetness from his eyes began to fall onto your cheeks, mixing together with your tears in a concoction of pure sorrow. Your monitor began to beep faster, an incessant reminder of your limited time left together. Frustration began to roil within him.

“We were so close, Y/N,” his lips trembled as he cried. “We were so close to being in love.”

Your eyes welled up with more emotion as the truth of his words pierced right through your heart.

“I know Tooru, I know. But I know you’re going to find someone else one day, and they’re going to give you all the happiness you deserve. All the happiness that I couldn’t give to you. And when you find them, love them with all your heart, okay? Love them like you would have loved me.”

The monitor let out another blaring noise as your pulse began to plummet and the colour drained from your already paper-white face. Oikawa heard footsteps sounding in the hallway, indicating that help — albeit futile — was finally going to arrive.

Oikawa cupped your face as he poured out every emotion into one final kiss. The love for you that he’d harboured for years, the joy and nostalgia from reminiscing your childhood, and the grief of having your romance stripped away, all in a single moment.

Oikawa parted from your lips and proceeded to kiss your forehead. Then your cheek. Then your nose. Then back to your lips again. All of the years he’d spent with you he had taken for granted. And since he’d never have the chance to do it again, he might as well do everything he can to write your romance in these last few moments.

“I love you, Y/N. Always have, always will,” Oikawa sobbed.

You smiled and pressed the bouquet he’d bought into his chest, using the rest of your strength to reach up and get one last taste of his sweet lips on yours. You finally reclined back onto the bed, smiling forlornly as the nurses and doctors began to rush in.

“I love you too Tooru, and I’ll always be with you. Until we meet again, my love.”

You smiled and gently squeezed his hand, a tear slipping from your eye right before your monitor flatlined. Oikawa choked on a sob before he stood and gave way to the hospital staff. They hurriedly tended to you, trying to bring you back. But Oikawa knew you were gone. And you were gone for good.

Oikawa clutched the bouquet in his hands as he left the room. His eyes were trained on the ground as he walked out of the cursed hospital, towards the place that had meant so much to him. The place that had first sparked your love.

Pavement slowly gave way to grass and before he knew it, he was standing before the white gazebo, the same one you said you wanted to visit one last time before you left. Oikawa walked up to the centre of the platform, gently laying the bouquet on the ground where you once stood all those years ago.

“I’ll love you forever, Y/N. You’ll always be my one true love.”

Silence was the only response he got, save for the rustling of leaves on that cold, desolate night. The sun had already set, and with it it took away the warmth and any embers of your unfulfilled romance. Inhaling sharply, he turned around and walked away, leaving the roses and all the empty promises they held behind.

Oikawa came to realise that life was no fairytale, and that ‘happily ever after’s with your true love didn’t exist. You could be so close to romance, yet have it ripped out of your grasp in the next second, before you could fully reach it. He cursed fate for mocking him, for giving him a taste of love before taking it all away forever. Oikawa chuckled cynically as he finally accepted how brutal reality truly was.

No matter how close you were to being in love…

Almost was never enough.

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

‘till I get where you are - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where Bucky tries to convince you to run away with him.

Warnings: infidelity, reader is the cheater, Steve is the one being betrayed, smut

A/N: So this is the long awaited final part to graveyard. Per @navegandoaciegas suggestion, I just had to make our boy steal her away from Steve, even if it did hurt my heart a little bit. I considered writing an alternative version where she stays with Steve, but my muse wasn’t really feeling it - maybe some other time. Hope you guys like this one!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

It had been a weird couple of days ever since Steve caught Bucky and I in the kitchen. No matter how many times I prepared myself for this situation, I did not know what to do or say. But to my surprise, it seemed like the boys had it figured out perfectly.

And that resulted in Bucky immediately leaving me to deal with Steve and Steve pretending nothing had happened as he hoisted me up and took me to the bedroom, where he fucked me just like he did every time we had one of those sinful little sessions that initially began as his idea.

I felt guilty, just like I had felt right when we first started this. Only back then I knew everything was happening under Steve’s gaze and Bucky only wanted me for my body - actually, I wasn’t even certain of that. I thought Bucky was doing this as a favor to his old pal, because there was no way in hell Bucky Barnes was attracted to me. I could barely believe one super soldier wanted me in his bed, now the other wanted it too?

But as time went on, it became obvious that was very much the case, until it wasn’t necessarily only that anymore. What started as a sexual connection slowly built up into much more, and I was conflicted, because of course I was.

I thought I loved Steve, but could I love him and betray his trust like that?

I managed to fall asleep every night by his side on a technicality. This was what he had asked me for, after all. If he wanted Bucky to fuck me whenever he wanted to, so he could be caught by surprise when he found us, he should have known there would be times when he wouldn’t find us.

The fact that Bucky looked for the times where Steve wasn’t around could not be attributed to my own doing, now could it?

But I knew it was wrong. I just knew it. That burning acidic feeling of shame and regret bubbled inside my belly every time I had to look Steve in the eyes while his best friend’s cum still dripped from me.

But he never asked me about it, now did he? He never told me that I should warn him about what Bucky and I did when he wasn’t around, when he didn’t manage to catch us. I could very well push through this, ignore my barrier of morality and pretend everything was fine, if it wasn’t for the fact that I knew my boyfriend like the palm of my hand. And I knew this was affecting him more than I ever feared it would.

For starters, he hadn’t asked Bucky to come over once since his last mission. Ever since we started this little arrangement, three days wouldn’t go by without his best friend being invited at least once into our shared bed.

He was insecure, I could see that. And I think Bucky saw it too. I recognized the guilty look in his eyes whenever we met in the common room for breakfast, because it wasn’t too different from the one I sported on myself.

But still, he restrained himself, abstaining from raising any issues or questioning what should very well be on the table. I knew why he didn’t, though. It was because he already knew the answer, just like I already knew what was going to happen, even if I wasn’t prepared to admit it to myself yet.

I’d warned him about this. When he first approached me with the idea, I wanted to be as open-minded as possible, especially since I cared a great deal for Steve and wanted him to be as sexually fulfilled in our relationship as I could make him. But I needed to let him know how my body and mind worked, and even back then I was well aware - and made sure that he was too - that I wasn’t able to simply sleep with someone without catching feelings for them.

It was only a matter of time, but both Steve and I tried to ignore the ticking clock, pushing through like I was able to only think about Bucky’s weight on top of me when Steve was looking us over, like I didn’t know what his cum tasted like and how heavy his cock felt in my mouth, making my mouth water every time my eyes met his in the gym, like I hadn’t begun to fall in love with him between the silly little compliments he’d whisper against my skin.

And now it was too late to ignore all of that, but still, here we were. All three, pretending nothing was different in our dynamic, like a relationship and a friendship hadn’t deteriorated in all of our joined hands.

I began distancing myself from the both of them, and as much as I could see the hurt in their eyes as they realized what was going on, Steve’s gaze held a little bit of relief in it. Like he was hopeful that the growing space between our hearts would end up tearing that last thread of sentiment that still held the two of us together, without either of us having to pick up a scissor to do it ourselves.

But that still didn’t solve the problem of my relationship with Bucky, and how it would affect Steve even if we did end up falling apart.

Those were the thoughts consuming my mind all day, every day, until I managed to get some sleep next to Steve in bed. But most nights, until I was able to do so, I’d roam the deserted hallways of the tower in search of answers I’d never find outside of myself, until I decided to take a warm shower in the hopes that relaxation would find me.

I was taking off my clothes to get under the water when Bucky joined me in Steve’s walk-in bathroom.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

“Hi,” she murmured, eyes meeting mine on the reflex of the mirror in front of the both of us. “I was just about to wash up.” I gave a small smile, eyes running across her form, drinking in her figure and the warmth she brought me after so long without being alone with her. I was going crazy without it, the feeling of peace and belonging she brought me. So I didn’t even think before hugging her to my body, hiding my head in the crook of her neck from behind.

“Can I join?” When she didn’t immediately answer me, I knew it was time. We’d danced around the inevitable for too long. We needed to talk about the reality of our feelings, the reality where we had found ourselves in.

“I don’t think that would be best…” I sighed deeply, memorizing the intoxicating perfume of her own skin before finally raising my head to meet her eyes in the mirror again. I knew what I needed - what I wanted to say.

“Let’s run away. Just you and me. I’ll find a cabin in the woods. We can live a quiet life, just like we’ve always wanted.” She doesn’t ask me how I know it. I knew she remembers those midnight conversations as well as I did, long before we even started sharing a bed together. We’d grown close over cups of tea and whispered secrets, it shouldn’t have been any surprise I’d give her my heart without blinking twice.

When she didn’t answer, I turned her around to look directly at me, cradling her face between my hands, both flesh and metal. I was always careful not to hurt her, terrified of seeing any ounce of pain or fear in her eyes, but she never showed me anything other than love and care.

“C’mon, I know you want this,” I urged her, thumbs softly brushing her cheekbones, feeling my chest heavy with each breath by the intensity of the emotions in her eyes. “Don’t you want me? Don’t you want us?”

I waited with my heart on my sleeve for her to finally exhale a breathy little “yes” that was immediately swallowed by my lips descending on hers again. I was desperate to have her sweetness on my tongue, to reassure myself that this was real, and not a sickly realistic figment of my deteriorating imagination.

“Bucky, we can’t do this right now,” she whispered against my lips as I hoisted her up on the counter behind her, but I could only keep on pressing kisses against her skin, relishing in the new feeling of possessiveness that took over me as I tasted each inch of her.

“You sure? ‘Cause I can smell you dripping for me, and only me right now.” It was true, I could always smell when she was wet and it was more intoxicating than any alcohol could ever aspire to be. It made my head swirl and my entire body feel more alive than ever before. Ever since the first time I was allowed to touch her, it became increasingly more difficult to control my desires. Now, when I needed her, I needed her. And I needed her now.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I wanted to succumb to him, I wanted it so badly - and I knew my self-control was wearing thin because I wouldn’t usually admit it to myself just how much I craved the feeling of his body on mine. But there was a more important issue here, something we had to discuss, and I knew we should have this conversation now rather than later.

“I feel like I should put on my clothes. We really need to talk about this. You can’t just drop this idea of running away and then fuck me silly so I’ll agree.” That made him smirk against my collarbones, hands slipping under my robe to slowly pry it off my shoulders.

“You know me so well,” he purred, tongue slowly licking from my collarbones up my throat until he was right by my lips again, kissing the breath away from my lungs. I couldn’t deny it any longer. He had awakened the fires of desire inside of me, and I was beyond desperate for him now.

“Is there really anything to talk about, doll? I know you can’t even sleep next to him anymore. And I can’t sleep without you.” His fingers had found my pussy, and without any sort of preamble, two slipped right in, his thumb easily locating my clit and rubbing it. “All of my nightmares are about living without you now. Please don’t make me live in them.”

I melted at the same time that he found my sweet spot, a strangled gasp somehow escaping me, despite how hard I was trying to keep quiet. And that’s when his metal hand came into play.

He covered my mouth and leaned over me, body caging me on the counter as he whispered in my ear. “I love hearing your little sounds, sweetheart, but be a bit quieter, okay? We can’t have Steve interrupting us now, especially since we’re in the middle of such an important conversation.”

I wanted to laugh, but all that got out was a mumbled version of his name, thankfully barely understandable thanks to the hand still silencing me. “Where were we? Ah, yes. You running away with me. Say that you will, baby. I’ll take good care of you. Haven’t I always? Say yes, doll. Please.”

I don’t know how the hell he expected me to be able to form any sort of answer - hell, I had no idea how he was able to speak that convincingly while fingerfucking me to a blinding orgasm, but I guess he knew my body and its limits better than I did, because before I could consciously realize, I was screaming yes over and over again against the cold palm of his hand, body writhing desperately over the counter.

“We’re gonna be so happy, doll. I promise you,” he whispered against my temple before depositing a kiss there, while I dramatically tried to catch my breath. “But right now, I really want to taste this glistening little pussy.”

As his hand left my face, I had to bite down on my own fist to stop the loud moan that threatened to escape me at the mere sight of James Buchanan Barnes falling on his knees in front of me, animalistically licking his lips at what awaited between my spread open legs.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

She looked like a fucking meal, all ready and wet for me to taste. And now she was mine and only mine, forever and ever. “You know…” I started, tracing her outer lips with one of my metal fingers as I watched her juices continuously drip from inside of her, making my mouth water.

“Every time I see you - it doesn’t matter who’s around - I just keep thinking about how I want to have my head between your legs.” My voice was thick with desire as I let her ponder over my confession, tongue slipping past my lips to finally taste her once I felt her muscles relaxing when the anticipation had started to decrease.

“F-Fu-uu-uck, BUCKY!” And now they were tense again. I could feel the solid muscles of her thighs under the palms of my hands as they roamed across her spread legs, forcing her to stay that way for me.

“God, I love your taste, sweetheart. No one - nothing can ever compare.” It was the truth. I loved her juices. Ever since the first time I got to eat her sweet pussy, I craved to be sweeping my tongue over her lips, collecting her wetness all the damn time. It was easily my favorite meal and hobby, and I had no idea how Steve could spend a second of his day without getting on his knees for her.

“It’s just like candy. And you’re so fucking wet, always so fucking wet.” I chuckled against her cunt at the gasps and moans that she tried to contain but failed miserably, relishing every bite of pain that I felt when her fingers pulled on my locks a bit more forcefully. She thrashed and twisted on the marble counter while I managed to hold her open without any difficulty, smiling at each lick I got to give across her pussy.

“Fuck, you look so good like this.” Stopping only to thrust two of my fingers in her, I admired the way her pussy so easily swallowed them up before going back to suck on her clit just the way I knew would make her tighten around me. “Don’t close your eyes,” I ordered when she tried to do just so, recognizing all of the tell-tale signs I’d long memorized that warned me of how truly close she was to creaming around my face. “I want to see you cum for me. Cum for me, baby.”

This time, I didn’t stay to drag out her orgasm this time. I needed her, needed to be inside of her, so the second that I felt her orgasm, I dragged out my fingers and rose to my full height, hands immediately making quick work of my jeans.

“Don’t you ever wear underwear?” She questioned in a lazy voice that made it abundantly clear just how fucked out she already was, and I had to laugh as I made sure to adjust her body just how I needed it to have her.

“Not ever since we started fucking.” It was the truth. Specifically, ever since Steve commented on wanting to step it up a notch, I decided to skip wearing boxers altogether, if only for the time that it saved me where I could be enjoying her before he appeared. This time though, I was particularly grateful for it, since my cock ached in my fist, terribly stimulated without any actual sort of stimulation whatsoever.

“Fuck, you’re so hard,” she sighed, right as I rubbed the head of my member between her pussy lips and started to press in. As always, it felt amazing. It felt like being connected to her, and that was all I’ve ever wanted, ever since Steve introduced me to her.

“For you, doll. Only for you.” She gasped so prettily at my words, and a silly smile took over my face as I started thrusting inside of her, but when she did it again, hands holding onto the back of my shoulders to keep herself up, I got worried.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“What’s wrong? Am I hurting you?” The worry in his tone had me smiling against the skin of his shoulder, where I had hugged myself to, before quickly shaking my head to calm his anxious mind.

“No! No, Bucky… You’ve done nothing… wrong, ah!” The second he learned I wasn’t in pain, his thrusts resumed, and each time he bottomed out, he managed to hit that sweet spot that had me struggling to keep myself sane while holding tightly to the man that was driving me crazy. It didn’t take long for him to figure it out.

“Oh, you like this, huh?” I nodded eagerly, still holding on to him like he was my lifeboat. “Awn, you love how I fuck you, huh, sweetheart? You love that it’s me who’s pounding you inside your ex-boyfriend’s bathroom.”

The addition wasn’t missed. But in the throes of passion, as I felt my toes curl and tried to keep my moans in by biting on Bucky’s skin while he eased my orgasm with his gentle, soft coos, I couldn’t find it in myself to care.

Later, when the post-orgasm clarity cleared my mind, I still couldn’t.

“Look at me, baby,” Bucky begged, out-of-breath and almost whiny and it was enough to have me needy again. So I pushed myself away from his muscular chest, wanting to see his beautiful face when he found his bliss just as much as he seemed to need to watch mine, and the second our eyes met, his pace quickened, the bottles and knick-knacks around us on the counter threatening to fall over and wake Steve up. It was clear that he was reaching the point of no-return, desperation dripping from each and every one of his movements.

“You’re mine, doll. You’re already mine, you’ve been mine for a long time, it just took you awhile to realize it.” The truth behind his words shocked me, revealing parts of myself that I had tried to ignore up until then. But he was right. I was Bucky’s, mind, body and soul. And it was time he came to collect what was rightfully his.

Another orgasm rose up so quickly, it took me by surprise, but Bucky knew me so well by now that he covered my lips just before I screamed my release, alerting Steve of our actions. “Shhh… Keep it in… Good girl.”

My pussy milking him, it was impossible for him to resist much longer. I knew he was about to cum when he looked at me with hazy eyes, mouth slightly open before begging, “Kiss me, kiss me.”

Of course, I did. I don’t think I’d ever be able to refuse him a kiss again, not ever since the first time his lips touched mine.

For a few seconds, it was only the sounds of our thumping hearts and breathless pants, my cunt still throbbing around his release as he cradled my face in his hands. Looking up at him to see the love in his eyes, all I could see, all I could feel was warmth. Like this was right. Like I was right where I needed to be. And it was time for me to admit it, both to Bucky and me.

“Let’s do it,” I broke the silence in the bathroom. “Let’s run away together. I love you. I’m scared, but I love you.” And as hard as it was to admit, the love I felt for the man in front of me left no space in my heart to regret the man I was about to leave behind.

#my fics #bucky barnes smut #smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes reader smut #bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes reader inserts #bucky barnes fics #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction

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cherrybombwritesstuff · 4 years

Text

Infiltration

My Piece for the Citrus Dome Collab featuring Villain!Hawks :D

Rating: Explicit

Characters: Hawks/ Keigo Takami

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Kidnapping, Light Bondage, Sub/Dom Dynamics

The night was hot as hell. Strands of hair stuck to your forehead and sweat tickled your cheeks. Summer humidity was bad enough and it was near unbearable to stand while you were stuffed inside a ventilation shaft. Despite its dilapidated state, the old hospital had been locked down tighter than Tartarus. Iron bars at every window, thick, new padlocks with hefty chains strewn across every door. It had taken a while to map out the internal workings of the building and even now with every precaution you had taken, you still prayed your target was blissfully unaware that the entry to the airways could indeed be silently pried open and, were actually big enough for you to fit; as long as you remained stealthy enough. At some points the rusted metal had groaned under your weight, forcing your heart into your throat as you froze and waited. Your target wasn’t due here just yet, in fact he wasn’t due for another hour or so. Patience would reward you on this job, since Hawks was damn near impossible to sneak up on. You would wait as long as it took. Arriving later would run the risk of being seen either by him or some other lackey at his disposal. You would wait, no matter how damned uncomfortable it was or how much you craved a cleansing shower when all of this was said and done.

Minutes ticked by like hours. The only thing worse than the thick air was the encompassing darkness. Well that, or the fuzzy layer of dust that coated the surface of the shaft as well as your clothes. At least it wasn’t your hero outfit, that would have been too recognisable. Every movement through the air ducts had been measured, care taken not to disturb the dirt and knock it into your nose. It was strenuous and your muscles were already aching, but if you managed to obtain the intel you needed, all of this nonsense would be so very worth it. Slowly, gently you adjusted your legs to ease the dull ache forming in them. It would all be worth it, it had to be. A few months back your agency had been informed that Hawks had gone rogue. His double agent activities had been completely hidden from the public, as well as most of the heroes working in the area. Higher ups stuffed in expensive suits were mopping their brows as they revealed the situation. Keigo’s abilities we’re too good, he was the number two hero and they refused to believe he had been captured. The only other reason he would stop all communication was defection. It seemed far fetched to you, but not impossible.

Your breath caught in your throat as your vision suddenly flooded with dull light. Through the thin grating before you, slots of sickly yellow illuminated the cramped space, revealing just how grimy it was and you didn’t wanna think about the metres of muck you’d just crawled through. Heavy double doors swung open in the room beneath you. After all your tracking, shaking down informants and crappy civilian disguises to map out Hawk’s movements, the bastard had deviated his schedule and arrived much earlier than anticipated. That flush of crimson feathers was a dead giveaway as he sauntered over to a desk and took a seat at his leisure. Strangely, he was alone. Adrenaline was rushing through your veins as you peered through the grating from your hidden perch. Tailing this man had been near impossible. Everybody was tightlipped about the whole affair, either through fear or loyalty. Thankfully, the application of alcohol in a seedy, underground bar finally loosened the tongue of a low ranking villain , that and your favourite little black dress. All he gave you was a slurred complaint of his newest colleague and how the “young featherbrained upstart” didn’t know his place.

Hawks breathed out a languid sigh, propping his booted feet onto the desk as he stretched his arms above his head as though he’d just come home from his daily nine to five job. After following the movements of the loudmouth villain, you’d been able to tail the number two hero after a brief meeting. He hadn’t been an easy mark, but at the very least you had a feasible time table for a few evenings out of the week. He always came to this abandoned hospital as a sort of base of operations and up until now, he hadn’t been alone. Your muscles tensed as you continued to watch him, waiting for others to show up, for something tangible to happen that you could record and report back with. After moments of sweet nothing, he pushed himself away from the desk, chair legs screeching across the cracked floor as he gave himself enough room to stand. His wings spread in another stretch with an impressive span that almost hit wall to wall. They shuddered, feathers bristling before he tucked them close to his back once again and started removing his jacket.

At this point you couldn’t blame him, the heat was intolerable regardless of what tiny space you just so happened to be crammed in. That black shirt beneath clung to his skin, tight and form fitted to every curve and bump of his lean muscle. There was no avoiding it; the man was damned beautiful, though you internally kicked yourself for such a thought while you were on a mission. Bringing your focus back to your target proved difficult however when he took hold of the bottom of his shirt and started to lift. Your mouth was cotton dry, even at this angle you could see his firm abdominals as they were slowly revealed. You almost forgot to swallow, biting your lip hard enough to bruise it. Heat was rising, threatening to make you boil beneath your skin. Your stomach felt like it was twisting your guts and you had to grit your teeth to keep your body from twitching. Was this really ok? Granted you were here to spy on the hero but this seemed to take it a step too far. For a second you shut your eyes, carefully wiping your brow before forcing your attention back to Hawks who was now shirtless.

Just as you resigned yourself to your fate, a light tingle fluttered against the back of your neck. You ignored it, brushing off the feeling to remain still. Hawks spread his wings, flapping them as he stood to create a light pulse of air to rush through the grate you were looking through. Dust curled upwards and you felt your nose tickle and your eyes itch. He couldn’t have done that on purpose, he couldn’t have detected you in here just yet. Nose pinched and eyelids fluttering the tears away, you kept quiet and still, until that crawling sensation returned to the back of your neck. It was too firm to be sweat and it couldn’t have been your hair. Nausea swirled in your stomach at the thought of an insect exploring your skin. Gently you reached behind you, especially careful not to shift your weight as you reached for the offending creature. Your eyes bulged in their sockets as your fingertips brushed against a row of soft fronds. Fear swelled in your throat too thick to swallow. Instinctively you snatched and the second your fist curled around the object, you recognised the shape. Still you brought it to the light, dread clawing at your skin as you confirmed the crimson red feather between your fingers.

“Enjoying the show?”

The cocky drawl of his voice had you clenching your jaw. He knew you were here, he knew exactly where you were thanks to that blasted feather. The mission was over; now you were the target. There was no time to reason or bargain, you were dealing with a traitor who just so happened to be one of the strongest heroes in Japan. Golden eyes were now fully focused in your direction, though he couldn’t see you through the metal. His wings shuddered, opening fully before dozens of feathers released around him and pointed straight up. Time to run. Employing your quirk, you lashed yourself to the side of the vent behind you. You moved quickly, drawn to the surface like a magnet until you hit it with both feet. Feathers ripped through the airway and followed your lead, giving you no time to waste. Adjusting your position, you lashed yourself to the next side, effectively reversing back out of the shafts at a frantic speed. Finally you were able to point your feet up and bust back out onto the roof. The weaving vents helped in slowing down the feathers, but you had no doubt they were still following behind. Landing with a clumsy roll, you righted yourself and sprinted to the edge of the hospital.

The breeze was a relief as you focused on the side of another building, the force of your quirk pulling your body towards it as though you’d been thrown. Your quirk had been difficult to master, often it would send you hurtling across a room with no control. Now you could switch it off and on at will, using it to lash yourself to an object as long as it was enough to support your weight. It allowed you to clear impossible distances in one jump, hopefully tonight it would allow you to shake off your pursuer. The city flashed by you in a blur as you picked up speed, rocketing from building to building. You twisted your body, chancing a look behind you. Hawks was following your movements quickly, beating his powerful wings to close the distance. The cocky bastard even had time to put his jacket back on before he gave chase. He would catch you if you continued like this, if not him then the horde of feathers that were also headed your way. It was obvious from his recent activity that Hawks didn’t want to be seen, so you had to bring this pursuit within the view of the public.

Midway through your leap, you cancelled out your quirk and allowed yourself to freefall. Turning your head slightly, you couldn’t resist but throw a mock salute at the winged hero. Though he was a fair distance away, you could have sworn you could see a smirk splitting his face. You dropped between vast blocks of concrete. Before you fell too low, you reached out with your quirk once again and shot your way to the side of an office building. The chase was far from over and despite the stakes, a part of you was enjoying the thrill. You zipped through the city, lashing yourself from structure to structure. Hawks likely wouldn’t follow you himself, but there was a chance his feathers would. Charging through the twists and turns of the city at full speed was rapidly draining your energy. Limbs burned with promises of aches and pain for days to come after this. It didn’t matter though, all you had to do was retreat far enough in one burst then report back to your agency. Your lungs were burning by the time you made it to a dark corner of the city, a quiet area you seldom came to. You let yourself drop, utilising a weak pull of your quirk to drop yourself down and continue on foot.

After rushing into an alley, you finally stopped to check your surroundings. No sign of feathers, no sign of Hawks. For a precaution you gave it a few moments before you allowed yourself to breathe a sigh of relief. Your body ached, covered in a sheen of sticky sweat and who knows what else from the dusty air ducts. As you stripped your kevlar, you tapped your communicator and waited for a reply.

“Hey, I uh hit a snag.” you panted, leaning against the wall for support.

“So I can see, why the sudden escape?” Command had been tracking your movements, though you had to wonder if that had compromised you somehow.

Strictly for rescue they said, you had no reason to argue against it.

“He knew I was there. More than that, he knew I was going to be there ahead of time. The second he arrived he was searching for me.” you explained, sweeping hair from your forehead.

“I see. Are you safe?”

At this point you could only make the assumption that you were. You didn’t think Hawks would risk being seen, not after he’d tried so hard to stay off the radar.

“I’m pretty sure I lost him. Populated area, he won’t want to be seen here. He’s too easily recognised.” you replied, scoping out the buildings nearby.

“He saw my quirk though, probably knows who I am…”

Silence fell from the other line before you heard an exasperated sigh.

“Then we’ll secure your home. I’ll send an escort to pick you up from this hotel, check in and get some rest while you’re waiting.”

You expected as much. Though the thought of Villain lackeys invading your personal space made you sick to your stomach.

“Thanks… I’ll head over there now.”

After the adrenaline filtered out of your system you were left with a lead weight in your gut. The hotel location fed through on your watch and you trudged in it’s direction, limbs tingling and heavy from fatigue. The mission had failed and you had been revealed to the enemy, what a night…

The hotel was pretty basic, not that it mattered. After checking in you had only one thing on your mind, a hot, soothing shower. Even stripping off your clothes was a chore, peeling them from your wet skin, they were left to fall into a heap, kevlar and all. Cooling water hit your flesh like a cleansing wash over your body. A low moan escaped you as you stood beneath the flow, gently covering the entirety of your tired form. Muscled relaxed, your tense shoulders finally dropped and you were finally at a comfortable temperature after enduring that damned humidity. Mulling over the events of the day however, had you rubbing your temples in frustration. How did he know? That wolfish grin stuck in your mind like a splinter. Followed by the image of Hawks casually stripping before your eyes. Maybe you could at least take that as a consolation prize, it was a damned pleasing sight after all. You were almost disappointed that he hadn’t carried the charade on a little longer, given himself enough time to drop those trousers as well.

Mentally you shook yourself, attempting to push the thought out of your head but the more you tried, the deeper it was planted. Your hands roamed your body as you rinsed away the last of the shower gel. The thought of those gold, piercing eyes staring straight into yours sent pleasant tingles beneath your skin. You bit your lip before releasing a breath you didn’t even know you were holding before parting your legs. The mission failed, there was no harm in cheering yourself up a little, was there? The instant your fingers slipped between your thighs you began to feel relief from the building ache. Your breath hitched as you allowed your fingertips to roam the length of your folds before gently circling your already swollen clit. There was no stifling the mewl that drifted from your open mouth. His chiseled face, that cocky smile and that sculpted body were all you could see. You yearned to touch him, flutter your fingertips against his chest, along the ridges of his abs and further still. You wanted to see him above you, caging you in with those powerful arms. Fingers slipped between your slick petals, easily sliding inside you and you sighed in pleasure. Doing this to yourself over a suspected villain no less, was different. The danger, the rush you associated with him only made your body increase in sensitivity and you just couldn’t keep yourself quiet.

“Fuck…” you breathed, leaning against the cool tiling of the shower.

You released a shaky breath, your fingers pulsing faster and faster at the thought of that beautiful man fucking you into next week.

“H-Hawks…”

Whispering his name only heightened the rush. With your free hand you reached for your breast, teasing and rolling your swollen nipple between your fingers.

“Hawks… fuck me Hawks…” you whimpered a little louder for your own benefit.

“Maybe if you ask nicely…”

The world stopped. Your body froze in place. That voice was unmistakable. That outline of a winged man waiting beyond the translucent shower curtain could only belong to one person.

“Oh...shit.” was all you could muster as you pulled your fingers out.

The bathroom became silent once you turned off the water, aside from a few nervous drips that seemed to emulate your pounding heartbeat.

“I’ll save you some face, little bird.” he told you and you could hear the insufferable grin in his voice.

“You can put this on before we have a little...chat.”

He stepped towards the shower, slipping the bathrobe provided by the hotel past the curtain while the rest of him remained respectfully hidden. What choice did you have but to take it? Gingerly you accepted the robe, slipping it over your naked form and gaining back at least a little dignity. Once the belt was tied securely, the curtain was pulled back to reveal your target, free hand settled on his hips.

“Pardon the phrase but, if you come quietly it’ll make it easier on the both of us.”

His tone was almost sickeningly pleasant and you could feel heat rushing to your cheeks. He offered his hand to you, which understandably you were very hesitant to take. His smile faded, golden eyes flashing dangerously every second that lurched by.

“I don’t have time for this.” he said bluntly.

Some of his larger feathers detached, floating to his sides to point directly at your throat. You lifted your head and backed away, knowing just how deadly these crimson blades could be.

“If you’re gonna be stubborn about it, you can take a nap.”

Before you could react, Hawks pulled a small capsule from his pocket and flicked it straight at you. Before it made impact, it split in two and it’s contents and burst into a small cloud of fine powder. You flinched and turned your head but it made no difference. The powder hit your nostrils and the effect was almost instant. Your head felt heavy as it swayed, your legs buckling as you were overwhelmed by a sickening dizziness. Darkness enveloped the corners of your vision as you fell forward, caught by a pair of strong arms before everything faded to black.

The ground was cold beneath your bare feet. Your head lolled back in your sleepy haze. A firm grip bruised your wrist until your arms were locked into place above your head. Once the hold was released, you slumped to your knees and landed clumsily on a floor of concrete. Slowly your senses sharpened. A musty, damp scent filled your nose. The sticky humidity of the night air was chased away by the chill of your wet hair. Your limbs were still weak, bones as useful as jelly as your eyelids fluttered open. The light was dim and it took a while for your eyes to adjust. Warm fingertips slid against your jaw, gently lifting your head as a bottle of water was placed against your parted lips.

“Drink up little bird, don’t want you getting sick on me now…”

His voice could have been soothing in the right setting. But Hawks wasn’t playing the part of a hero anymore.

“How considerate…” you mumbled, blurred vision slowly climbing back to normalcy.

He chuckled, dragging a steel chair to sit across backwards.

“Still got that smart mouth even now... does that make you gutsy, or stupid?”

Tugging at your wrists proved worthless. The rope was secured tight, fastened neatly around both arms yet surprisingly it wasn’t uncomfortable.

“Which one gets me outta here alive?” you replied back, a weak smile forming on your lips.

He clicked his teeth, wings folding neatly behind him as he rest his chin on his forearms.

“Oh does it have to be so final? I just wanted to ask you some questions…”

He sounded eerily calm, as though he hadn’t just kidnapped a pro hero and tied them up in a grungy warehouse. You shifted your weight, the drowsy feeling now dissolved into irritating tingles throughout your arms and legs.

“My name is (y/n), I like long walks on the beach if you wanna know my star sign is-”

A bark of laughter cut you off.

“Funny little bird, aren’t you?” he said between giggling, “But the sooner you comply, the quicker we can get outta here… so let’s get serious…”

His tone lowered, his gaze fixed with those dangerous golden orbs locked with yours. Casually he plucked out a feather, idly twirling between his fingers.

“I already know your agency, figured that much out when I saw your quirk.”

Your lips pressed together in a tight line. If Hawks was working with the Villains now, did that mean he could focus their attention on you? A shudder danced up your spine and you weren’t sure if it was due to the cold, or the way Hawks was looking you up and down, like a predator cornering it’s wounded prey.

“But I wanna know who put you on this mission, which suit gave the order to spy on me?”

It was a simple enough question, too bad you didn’t have a decent answer for him. Averting your gaze, you chewed your bottom lip as you tried to access the situation. Part of you wanted to believe Hawks hadn’t quite crossed over to the other side, that he wouldn’t harm you even if you didn’t obey him. He clicked his teeth and released the feather.

“C’mon now little bird, don’t force my hand here…” he grunted.

You watched as the scarlet blade floated closer, inching it’s way nearer to your face. In a split second more had joined of various sizes, all pointed at your prone body.

“I’m sure you know these feathers aren’t gonna tickle, so how about you tell me what I need to know…”

His face had darkened, his grip on the back of the chair tightened making it creak.

“I… I don’t know. I wasn’t there for the meeting, I was just asked to take this on by my usual team…” you meekly replied, gauging his face for some sort of reaction.

He simply stared for a moment before exhaling a breath he’d apparently been holding. Yet the feathers remained pointed at you.

“Fine. Then what were your orders?”

He sighed out that last question. In the low light you could just about see dark circles resting beneath both eyes. His hair was in it’s usual shaggy style, flopping over his brow in strands that you wanted to smooth back in spite of yourself. Yet there were more than a few fly aways, something a little more unkempt to what you were used to seeing.

“Uh, you want me to recount the entire briefing?” you bit back with a raised eyebrow.

The chair screeched as he shoved it away, stepping clear of it to close the gap between you and crouch down to your level. At this proximity you could smell his cologne, along with another scent reminiscent of baked goods. Even now, tied up with feather blades inches away from cutting your flesh, you could feel the heat at your core returning. He said nothing, instead letting his deadpan expression make the threats for him.

“L-look I… I don’t have any details. You stopped contact with the Heroes, they sent somebody to check on you.”

It was true to a point. You weren’t entirely sure what else he needed to hear, but you stopped searching for extras when that smile slowly reappeared on his handsome face.

“They sent you. A fresh faced new hero to catch me in the act. They sent you after the number two hero expecting a job well done?”

His feathers drooped, turning away from you before they fit back into his wings as he stretched them out to accommodate. His head dropped, fingers pinching his brow in frustration. His words stung. It was true you were a relatively new hero, but you had still made it into a prestigious agency. Hawks rubbed his eyes before raising his gaze back up to meet yours.

“Oh little bird don’t give me that face, you’ll break my heart.”

He reached out, tucking wayward hair back behind your ear. His fingertips barely grazed your skin, yet the effect was powerful. Gooseflesh erupted down your arms and a tingling shiver rattled your limbs.

“Honestly I was impressed. You’re scarily good at covering your tracks. The only problem is when you find a mark with a big mouth, the information goes both ways.” he grinned.

You flashed back to your nights at the bar. The suited man you had flirted relentlessly with for just a hint of a trail must have mentioned you to his colleagues. As careful as you had been in your line of questioning, it stood to reason that Hawks would have been overly cautious about who had his name in their mouth. Your head dropped a little, a defeated smile on your face.

“I guess the gamble didn’t quite pay off…” you lamented, shifting your legs and pressing your thighs together.

He was still close, close enough to feel the warmth of his skin even when he wasn’t directly touching you.

“That’s the way it goes sometimes… Though I have to say I’m disappointed I didn’t get to see the short, black number he described… what was it he said exactly? That it left nothing to the imagination?”

Oh now he looked damned pleased with himself. That wolfish grin urged you to shuffle back against the wall as much as you could, not that you could go any further. Blood rushed to your cheeks and your eyes were wide and unblinking. THis cocky bastard was flirting.

“W-well I don’t see how you can complain given you caught me in my birthday suit!”

The words came out of your mouth before your brain could catch up and stop you. He caught you alright, he caught you two fingers deep and calling out his damned name and you just reminded him of that. He held up his hand, eyes sparkling in amusement.

“Ah no, I saw your silhouette. I wouldn’t peek on a lady taking a shower, I’m not some sort of pervert…”

Something about his crooked smile sparked rebellion. You pulled at your ropes and moved closer to him.

“Oh? Then what was with that mini strip show at the hospital?”

Your voice wavered a little more than you wanted it to. Hawks’s wings twitched and he turned his head to the side.

“Did you enjoy the view, little bird?”

His voice spilled from him like liquid velvet. Your breath hitched, heart drumming obnoxiously against your chest and he was getting closer.

“Is this how I’ll get my answers from you? With honey instead of vinegar…”

He was an inch away. If your hands weren’t bound you could have touched him so easily. He rocked onto his knees, his fingers curled beneath your chin to keep you still.

“Why don’t we recreate that little fantasy you were having at the hotel…”

His voice was a whisper before his lips pressed against yours. His mouth was hot, demanding and suffocating, everything you imagined it would be. You whimpered against him, wide eyes shutting as you dropped your defenses and fell into his movements.

“What a pretty sound…” he growled, breaking the kiss with a bite on your bottom lip. “I wanna hear more…”

You gasped as he trailed a path of kisses along your jawline, locks of hair tickling your face as he closed in on your sensitive neck. Teeth grazing your skin left you breathless and wanting. Fingertips trailed up your exposed thigh, giving it a firm squeeze as his lips and tongue continued to toy with you.

“Ah-Hawks…” you breathed, voice shamelessly laden with lust.

He hummed as he sucked your flesh, biting down softly.

“D-did you betray the heroes? Are you… are you really working with the Villains?”

His mouth stilled, leaving a soft kiss behind before he pulled back to meet your gaze.

“If I say yes, will you want me to stop?” he asked simply, hand resting on your leg.

The hero side of you screamed internally. You couldn’t sleep with a goddamned traitor, you were supposed to be part of the solution. A role model, a shining light in the dark. Yet for weeks on end this man had occupied your thoughts. You had gone to extreme lengths to find him, reading up about every little detail you could to get to know him. It had become something of an obsession, the drive to succeed and impress your agency transformed into figuring out the mystery that was Keigo. And now he had you captured and the only feeling that was clear in the confusion was the heat thrumming from your core.

“..No, I don’t want you to stop…” you admitted, falling further into the pit.

His feathers bristled, audibly rustling before they settled once again. His shoulders dropped, as though tension had been released.

“Good… cause I really didn’t want to.”

He captured your mouth again, kissing you without restraint. His hands slipped beneath your thighs and suddenly you were lifted as he stood. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively. The rope binding you was slack yet you were still restrained, pushed up against the wall and trapped between it and the muscular body pressing your front. He took your arms and looped them around his neck, ensuring you were both trapped with each other.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” he growled as he bit your neck, sucking and bruising it, marking you as his.

“You’re not the only one who’s been spying little bird…”

You wanted to respond, hell you would have if your head wasn’t swimming in lust as though it was the only thing that mattered. One arm was all he needed to hold you steady, while the other slipped between you and untied the belt to your gown.

“Once I knew you were tailing me, I had to know more.”

The robe fell open, exposing you completely to him. He took his sweet time, fingertips trailing a line between your breasts.

“You’re a hardworking hero… throwing yourself at danger whenever you can…”

Your mouth fell open in a needy mewl as he took hold of your breast and ran his thumb over your nipple.

“Y-you… you were watching me?” you moaned.

He closed his lips over the swollen bud, tongue circling and flicking and teasing. Your hips rolled against him and he groaned against your skin as you pressed against his painfully hard cock that was still trapped in his clothes. He released your nipple with a gentle bite.

“A little… but it was enough.”

He drifted lower, drawing a light pattern on your tummy, looping your hip bone before finally slipping between your wide open legs. He sucked his teeth as he gently slid a finger tip over your clit and down to your swollen, silken petals.

“Fffffuck… you’re so wet for me little bird.”

He growled at your ear, slowly toying with your slick flesh. You threw your head back and moaned without restraint, shifting your hips in an attempt for more much needed friction.

“E-enough f-for what?” you managed to ask, lips trembling as you spoke.

His hand stilled and he gave you a soft kiss before he plunged two of his long fingers inside you.

“Enough for me to know I fucking wanted you…”

You practically squealed, your soaking wet hole welcoming him with ease. He pressed upwards, curling his finger against that soft, spongy flesh he knew would drive you crazy.

“Damn… this pussy feels good little bird, so fuckin’ tight…”

He added a second finger and fucked you with them, pumping in and out of you vigorously. You barely noticed when he let you go with his other arm given how hard you were clinging to him. He unzipped his fly and popped the button, his belt jingling as he let it fall with the waistband of his pants. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps as you moved with his rhythm, desperate for more, needing to be filled.

“Fuck! H-Hawks… please!”

So ready for him it hurt, a tingling ache that could only be sated by him. He shoved his mouth against yours, muffling your desperate mewls.

“You know what I’m waiting for baby… say it again for me, I need to hear it…”

He was just as breathless as you, his cheeks and ears tinged a bright pink.

“Fuck me, Hawks… please? Oh god fuck me Hawks!”

He cursed like a sailor, snarling as he grabbed your hips squeezing hard enough to leave bruises.

“Good girl…” was all he could manage before fully sheathing himself within your tight entrance.

He took a second to adjust, groaning against your neck as though he felt the same sense of relief that you did. Locked together, holding on tight as you could and your toes curled when he shifted his hips and finally started to thrust.

“Oh fuck… little bird you feel better than I imagined… fuuuuck…”

Your cries echoed throughout the warehouse. The huge space filled with the noise of your clashing flesh. He filled you so well, hitting every sensitive spot inside you and you could feel your core tighten with pleasure, building up to that explosive release you so desperately needed.

“Yeah baby, keep makin’ those sounds… I fuckin’ live for them…”

His hair was splayed in locks over his face and his forehead was shiny with sweat. He grit his teeth, face contorted with animalistic pleasure and you couldn’t help but think that he was more beautiful than ever. With your arms still clasped around his neck, you pulled him into a kiss, tongue hungrily invading his mouth as he continued to fuck you up against the wall.

“K-Keigo… oh god…”

He grunted against you, pushing himself deeper inside. Your thighs trembled as they gripped his slim waist.

“What is it little bird… you wanna cum for me?”

His teeth raked along the shell of your ear, his voice vibrating against it.

“Then start fucking begging…”

Your voice collapsed into a needy whine. His demands simultaneously frustrated and exhilarated you, enhancing every touch, every thrust of his hips and lick of his tongue. He owned you in this moment and god you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“P-please… Keigo please I need it!”

Your eyes brimmed with unshed tears as the build slowed along with his pace. He filled you to the hilt, only to slowly retract, making you jerk your hips for more friction.

“Please make me cum… Please make me cum Keigo!”

He groaned low in his chest, kissing your ear before he adjusted his position.

“Ooohh that’s it, good girl… such a fucking good girl.”

His arm slipped between you, his thumb gently pressing against that swollen pearl of nerves. He circled it, moving it in rhythm with his powerful trusts. Heat spread from your core, like flames licking at your skin. Your limbs were trembling as he pulled you to the brink, you couldn’t think and you could barely breathe as he fucked you closer and closer to that freeing release you were both craving.

“Fuck little bird… fuck I’m gonna…”

You cried out his name, morals thoroughly abandoned as you thanked him for every touch, every thrust he gave to you. Darkness teased at the corners of your vision, threatening to pull you under as waves of white, hot pleasure rocked through your body. Your grip around him tightened, as did his around you and he continued to fuck you hard through your climax. It didn’t take much for him to reach his own, mouth hanging open as he moaned your name, painting the walls of your cunt with thick, streams of cum. His forearm crashed against the wall, ensuring he didn’t crush you when he slumped forward, his forehead resting gently against yours as you both panted for air. He let loose a breathy chuckle as he carefully pulled himself out.

“That did it for you huh? You wanted to get nasty and fuck a Villain?” he breathed, unhooking your tired arms from around his neck.

Carefully he lowered your legs, allowing you to stand with his assistance.

“No… just you.”

Your answer seemed to catch him off guard. Arrogance drained from his features and was replaced by a genuine, almost shy smile. Using the wall for support, you wrapped yourself back up in the robe. But still your legs were bare and your feet were pressed against a relentlessly cold floor, sending an unwelcome shiver up your spine. Hawks’ mouth pressed into a tight line as he buckled himself back up again.

“Come here little bird…”

This time you took his hand, letting him turn you around and hold you from behind. His wings spread, wrapping around the both of you in a welcomingly soft cocoon. You hummed as you felt their warmth, snuggling a little closer in his arms.

“You know… the Heroes Association sent you as bait.” he began, his mouth moving against your scalp.

“They got no proof I’ve done anything wrong, not yet. So they sent a naive little hero after me… hoping I would be pushed into doing something desperate to cover my tracks…”

You turned your head, catching his tired eyes with yours.

“Are you doing something wrong Hawks?”

The wings around you shivered and a breeze of air ruffled your hair as he sighed above you.

“There’s… there’s something I have to do and… the Villains can help me do that.”

His hands seemed to tense up against you as he waited for your response.

“And the heroes can’t?”

His hands met your waist and he turned you to face him, keeping his wings in place.

“The heroes are the problem little bird.”

His knuckles grazed your cheekbone and for once you saw no trace of that trademark confidence in his face.

“I’m tired of those untouchable bastards pulling the strings and watching us puppets dance.”

Something about him was so sincere, so vulnerable that you couldn’t find it in yourself to call him a liar. There had been rumors and whisperings since you started getting scouted, corruption at the top of the chain. Maybe that’s what he was referring to.

“Then… does that mean you won’t accept help from a hero anymore?”

He huffed a stifled laugh, kissing you softly on your nose.

“That depends on the hero. Maybe I could be persuaded…”

#bnha hawks #bnha fanfiction #bnha #mha #villain!hawks #keigo takami

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