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miryum · 2 years

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Greek Mythology AU (Newt x Reader)

This was requested and I’m very pleased and proud to present this! It’s longer than my other fics, and here’s the key of which Glader is which god/goddess:

Zeus- Ava Paige

Hera- Jason

Athena- Teresa

Ares- Gally

Poseidon -Thomas

Artemis- Sonya

Apollo- Harriet

Aphrodite- Minho

Hermes- Reader

Hesita- Newt

Demeter- Jorge

Persephone- Brenda

Hades- Alby

I know that I’m missing some, but I really tried to fight everyone in and take account of relationships both within TMR and Greek Mythology. (And yes, I know Newt and Sonya are siblings instead of Sonya and Harriet and Harriet doesn’t really fit Apollo, but bear with me here!)

It would be wise if Newt stopped staring. But, then again, he was god of the hearth, not the god of wisdom. Sometimes he wished he was more like Teresa. Maybe then he would know how to talk to Y/n.

Ava had called an emergency godly meeting. Newt had no idea what it was about, but it wasn’t his job to weigh in. While the twelve gods and goddesses sat on their thrones, Newt sat in the middle, tending the fire that was always burning.

“Why did you call this meeting?” Gally asked, “You pulled me from a war.”

“Humans are getting out of control.” Ava pursed her lips. “We need to do something about it.”

“What do you mean by out of control?” Teresa asked.

“They’re advancing too quickly. They’re making technology far faster than we ever thought. It’s getting out of hand.” Ava argued her point.

“Isn’t that good?” Sonya arched her brow. “We want them to grow and thrive, right?”

“Their egos are inflating ten-fold.” Ava said, “They’re starting to think they’re better than us.”

“Wonder who else that sounds like…” Y/n muttered, eyes not leaving her tablet screen. Minho, Gally, Alby, and Thomas laughed. Newt let out a quiet chuckle, focusing on the flames in front of him.

Ava glowered, but didn’t speak.

“I think their progress is good.” Thomas added, “As Sonya said, we want them to keep building temples for us, and if they have new technology, they can make them bigger and better.”

“That’s not what I said.” Sonya mumbled. Teresa glanced at Thomas.

“Temples. Bigger and better.” Ava said, a hand coming to her cheek. “And more technology. Hmm. I guess. But we still need to keep a close eye on them.”

The gods sat in silence for a bit. Y/n glanced up. “Are we done here?” she asked.

“I guess.” Ava waved a hand.

“Good, cause I have places to be and things to do.” Y/n flew off, her winged sandals allowing her to take to the skies. She kept muttering to herself, eyebrows furrowed and fingers dancing across her tablet. Newt watched her go.

The other gods grumbled about how Ava took them from important happenings before slowly dispersing. Alby, on the other hand, walked up to Newt. “I see the way you look at her,” he commented.

Newt tore his eyes away from Y/n’s retreating figure, glancing to Alby, then back down to his fire. “I have no idea what you mean,” he answered, flicking his hand so the crackling red and oranges of his fire grew.

Alby sighed. “She used to be such a cocky little shit. Wonder where that kid went.”

Newt frowned. “She left when Ava gave her the role as messenger of the gods. Now, she spends her days fluttering and flying this way and that, just to take simple messages or gifts to one another or demigods when we’re too lazy to do it ourselves. And not just that!” Newt ranted on, “She’s the goddess of trade, wealth, luck, fertility, sleep, language, thieves, travel and so much more! You wonder where that intelligent, cunning, mischievous girl went, I can tell you.” Newt ended his speech, breathing heavily. He noticed his fire had risen ten-fold, so he quickly waved his hand and it decreased to soft flames and embers.

Alby hummed, smirking at Newt. “And how do you know all of that?”

Newt was at a loss for words. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was stutters.

Alby started to saunter away. “All I’m saying,” he said, “is that I haven’t seen the god of home, hearth, and family that riled up in a long time.” He snapped his fingers and his carriage appeared, black bone stallions and a chariot made of onyx. “It was quite an impressive fire,” he commented. And then he snapped the reins and was whisked away down Mt. Olympus.

Alby left Newt staring at the place he once was, hands hovering over the fire and contemplating his eye- opening words.

Y/n paused and looked at her tablet. Suspended in mid-air, she wasted her precious time staring at the name that had just popped up.

Newt.

While the other gods frequently used her posting and mailing service, Newt had never called upon her.

Making a decision she would probably regret later, Y/n turned and flew back to Mt. Olympus. The other packages and messages could wait.

Y/n landed in the main room of Mt. Olympus, coming to a running stop. “Newt?”

Newt jerked up from his place at the fire, the sparks jumping with his surprise. “Hi,” he said quickly. “I- uh well, why did you come so fast? I just requested your help.”

“You never need for me to deliver something.” Y/n tilted her head, staring at him with a mix of acquisition and confusion. “You’re too… kind to make me do that.”

Newt didn’t look at her, but Y/n thought she saw him smile.

She called me kind. Newt thought giddily.

“So what do you need me to do?” Y/n asked.

“Oh,” Newt cleared his throat, “well, I was kind of hoping I could do something for you.”

“I like where this is going.” Y/n grinned, finally sitting down across from him. If Newt has blood instead of ichor, he was sure he would be blushing at their close proximity.

“Well, as you probably know from all the invitations you have to deliver, Thomas and Minho are hosting a party later this week and I was wondering if you’re going?”

Y/n sighed and sat back, resting her weight on her palms. “I don’t know. I would love to go and party like I used to, but I’m just too damn busy. It’s a pity, isn��t it?” She exhaled a sad laugh.

Newt’s mouth quirked up in a small smile. “I’m sure you could take a day off for once in a millennia. Everyone important is going to be at that party. Why deliver messages to gods when they’re all in the same place?”

Y/n matched Newt’s grin with one of her own. “What are you saying Newtie?”

Newt flushed at the nickname. “I- I don’t know. I was just wondering- maybe…”

Y/n laughed and said, “Newt, do you want to go to the party with me?”

“Um, yeah. I would love that.”

Through the dim lights, Newt watched Y/n dance with Gally before she slipped a few coins out of his pocket.

Newt chuckled before a voice appeared next to him. “Aren’t you supposed to dance with her?” Thomas and Minho were at his sides, glinting with smirks.

“We were,” Newt answered, “but she wanted to pickpocket a few people and didn’t want me to be caught in the crossfire.”

“Ah.” Minho nodded. “Sounds like your average millennia-old love story.”

“I haven’t seen her away from that tablet of hers in a long time.” Thomas said, “It’s nice to see her happy for a change.”

“And all thanks to you.” Minho bumped shoulders with Newt. Newt rolled his eyes, a smile coming to his lips nonetheless.

“Your lover girl’s calling.” Thomas directed his attention to Y/n who was motioning him to come over.

Newt weaved through the crowd of gods and minor deities to where Y/n had abandoned Gally who was a few coins lighter. “Stop being a wallflower.” She yelled over the music.

“Parties aren’t usually my scene.” Newt rubbed his arm, a bit uncomfortable. When the pair had last danced, it was much less crowded.

Y/n scrunched her nose. “Fine. But I’m going to show you my definition of a party.”

As the gods partied well into the next weeks thanks to their immortality, Y/n showed Newt all of her best party tricks and pranks. They tied Thomas’ sandals together, made Sonya’s arrows exclaim a loud boing! when she shot them, fixed Teresa’s scrolls to a gibberish language, tuned Harriet’s lyre to all the wrong pitches right before she performed, stole Minho’s hair gel, spiked Jorge’s drink, slid a fake spider down Alby’s chiron, and snuck up behind Brenda to spray- painted her hair bright pink.

They were too scared to prank Ava or Janson.

At the end of the party, Thomas had tripped over himself six times, Sonya’s arrows had scared everyone four times, Teresa had confronted them about her very important scrolls, Harriet almost cried because her instrument was off-tune, Minho practically upturned the entirety of Mt. Olympus to find his hair gel, Jorge had a heart-to-heart with one of his plants, Alby screamed so loudly mortals could hear, Brenda now sported hot pink hair, and Newt and Y/n couldn’t stop laughing.

“I never knew your pranks could be this fun!” Newt exclaimed. “I think my favourite of all time was when you glued Janson to his throne. Or when you convinced Minho that his hair gel was making him go bald. You snuck in his room and cut off a bit of hair every single day just to make it believable. Oh, or when you stole Harriet’s prized cows.”

Y/n laughed. “Yeah,” she agreed, “those were all good. I miss pranking the gods.”

“What do you mean?” Newt leaned forward. They were sitting on a stone bench together in one of Jorge’s prized gardens, far away from the now dying down dance.

“What do all of those pranks have in common?” When Newt didn’t answer, she went on, “They were all years ago. Many years ago. I haven’t done a good prank in forever. Except those pranks with you. Those were good. I never knew you were one for pranks. I thought the god of family would be against that.”

Newt smiled sheepishly. “I’m usually not one for them. I just wanted to spend time with you these past weeks. It’s been fun.”

“Yeah, it has. Really fun.”

Y/n’s eyes crinkled up with her smile. Newt looked at her with a feeling she hadn’t seen often. It looked suspiciously like love. His eyes flickered about an inch down her face and Y/n’s eyes widened. Is he about to do what she thought he was about to do? Newt started to lean in and thoughts ran through Y/n’s mind. Did she want to do this? Did she like Newt in that way? Before anything could happen, Jorge stumbled into the garden, making Newt jerk away.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Uh, it’s alright. You’re a really good… uh, god, Newt.” Y/n exhaled out, standing quickly. “I’ll see you later.” She hurriedly walked away.

Newt slumped down in his seat, head in his hands. He had fucked everything up.

Y/n ran a hand through her hair as she practically ran through the halls of Mt. Olympus. Why did she run away from him? She entered her room to find Sonya resting on her bed. “What are you doing here?” Y/n jumped, frightened. The wings on her sandals sprouted up and lifted her into the air.

“What’s up with you and Newt?” Sonya itched her nose, nonchalantly fiddling with one of her arrows.

“What do you mean? There’s nothing happening.”

“Oh really?” Sonya smirked, “Then what’s with the party pranks you two pulled? Or leaving the dance together? Or denying that you have the hots for him?”

Y/n scoffed. “I don’t have the hots for Newt. I actually just… walked away from him.”

Sonya hummed. “Do you not like him, or do you just think that the goddess of trade, travel, and thieves is too busy and not good enough for Newt? That you wouldn’t be able to give him all he deserves so you’re shunning yourself before you have the chance to disappoint him?”

Y/n gave Sonya a tired smile. “When did you get so smart?”

Sonya shrugged, “I hang out with Teresa a lot. Now,” she grinned at the girl, “go find your lover boy. And then you’ll fix my arrows.”

Y/n nodded and zoomed out of her room, flying through the corridors of Olympus. Sonya had made her realise her feelings for Newt. She never knew her underlying love for him. How important he was in her life until Sonya pushed it in front of her. It was strangely comforting to know her fears and know what she could do to fix them. She searched in vain for Newt, but couldn’t find him. She checked the garden, the throne room, the dining room, and Newt’s room. She searched for an entire day, finally bumping into Thomas. “Have you seen Newt?” The messenger asked.

“Uh, I think I saw him with Alby last?”

“He’s in the Underworld?!” Y/n asked in disbelief. “Why the hell would he be there?!”

I don’t know.” Thomas shrugged, “There’s a lot of fires there, right? He’s the god of the hearth?”

“Wow, Thomas.” Y/n deadpanned, “You're very helpful.”

“Thanks.” Thomas didn’t catch the sarcasm. She rolled her eyes but realised the bigger issue was getting Newt back to Mt. Olympus. Being in the Underworld couldn’t be good for him. It took her some time, but eventually, after a long, tiring time, Y/n was able to enter the Underworld.

“Excuse me, Miss,” a soul said, “you can’t go in there. That’s Lord Alby’s castle.”

“Do you know who I am?” Y/n flared up, her patience ground to dust. After an entire day of searching, this soul was to stand in her way? The aura around her shone brightly, but she contained her true form. “I am Y/n Cyllenian, goddess of Mt. Olympus, herald to the gods, and right-hand woman of Ava. If you do not let me pass, I do swear that I will personally oversee that Lord Alby makes your punishment long and painful.”

The soul whimpered, fell at her feet, and grovelled for forgiveness. Y/n’s snarl didn’t leave her face, but she passed the soul without inflicting her wrath.

The doors banged open as Y/n flew through and the servants cowered as she travelled the halls. She entered the throne room to find Alby sitting lazily on his dais, looking at her expectantly. “Yes?”

“Where is Newt?” Y/n drifted to the ground, her feet finding solid rock. She took a deep breath to calm herself. “I need to tell him something.”

“Your never- ending love that you failed to tell him a day ago?” Alby guessed.

“How’d you know?” Y/n rolled her eyes. “Listen, I know I messed up. But I wasn’t ready at the time. Sonya made me come to a realisation that I have feelings for Newt. I was scared at the time, and I still am, but I’m willing to try and get through those fears with him. If he’ll have me.” She added after a thought.

“Newt?” Alby swished a hand to his right, where Newt emerged from the shadows. He looked paler and colder after a day in the Underworld, but the hope in his eyes hadn’t diminished. “He came to me and asked for a place to stay,” Alby said, “I knew that it would drain some of his powers, and I warned him of it, but he said he needed a friend. Who am I to derive him of that?”

“Newt.” Y/n sank in relief. Some guilt in her body was relieved when she saw him standing there. She had assumed that he wouldn’t want to see her after the embarrassment she put him through. “I am so sorry.” Y/n’s sandals carried her to Newt and set her down before him. “I was scared and stupid and I didn’t want to put you through the stress of my life and I feel as though I don’t deserve your kindness and love. I don’t think I ever saw your true personality until the party. And then, I remembered all you do for us.” Newt smiled as she continued, “You keep us warm and happy with your fires, you force us to have game nights to reconnect as a family, you drag Minho away from his mirror, calm Gally during his rages, help Jorge and Brenda with their gardens, and are even able to show Ava the good in humans! And you’ve even helped me so much in ways I don’t even know! You’ve never added to my work load, saved food for me after I’ve worked late, made sure the gods wait for me if I’m working… wow.” A realisation dawned on the goddess, “I work a lot, don’t I? But that’s what I’m worried about. That I work too much and won’t have time to love you as-”

“You love me?” Newt whispered, cutting off her long speech. “But, in the garden-”

“I was scared, stupid, and didn’t know my feelings until Sonya made me confront them.” Y/n reassured, “But I promise, I do love you. I’m not making this up just to make you feel better.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah.”

Newt leaned in, one hand on her waist, the other on her neck. Unlike last night, Y/n leaned in as well. Their lips met and it was as they were made for each other. The goddess of travellers, trade, wealth, luck, fertility, sleep, language, athletes, and sports, the most mischievous of the gods, and herald and messenger of Mt. Olympus itself had finally found her soulmate with the god of the hearth, home, and family. The busiest and most cunning goddess with the kindest and most patient. A match that Minho himself would approve of. A love to end all else. What a pair indeed.

Alby sat on his throne, eating popcorn, and watching them kiss.

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huitzilinthebudgie3 · 2 years

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Moonbug

Khonshu x Aztec!Goddess!Reader

Summary : Pertains to my other stories . Basically the backstory to the avatar!Reader stories of Khonshu and Goddess

Note : Khonshu is a buttcheek .Also the title godly name of the reader is Huitzilin but i am adding in a nickname area in for the closer characters to call her . I hope you guys like it ! Hope to update my other fics tommorrow

Huitzilin sat silently watching the young man who paraded around their Kings temple. She was a younger goddess , hidden in her pantheon from others . Huitzilopochtli protected her from the other gods .

Tlaloc and Coyolxāuhqui were among the only gods , Huitzilopochtli had cautioned her against speaking too .

Heeding her guardians advice and devising the ways , she could attack the taller being , she wasn’t short by any means but was unable to overcome , if need be . Taking a human form , she smiled softly at the long thin feathers that were laid in offering to her on a small altar . They were laid out by children , who'd prayed for their Mothers birth to return both Madrè and Babè safely from the battle of birth . She smiled faintly before tucking the feathers into her armor .

The man stood there silently , his clothing ripped a bit and his expression puzzling to her as she read the anger that shone in his eyes before he spoke up , tilting his head down slightly "Bug , do you know where your god is ?!" She tilted her head at "God ?" She asked , stepping away to grab a fruit on an altar , inspecting it silently "Why would I do that , worm ?" She asked, glancing up at the man , meeting the eyes behind the mask "Because Bug , I am asking for the War God Huitzilopochtli!! And I'm far more superior than-" she snickered "Your the son of Ra ! " The young man flinched and only blinked "How dare -" he snarled , she rolled her eyes . As the taller man stomped her way , the limp in his gait didn't escape her attention , his large frame was small in the large extravagant temple . She noted his mask was upsecured on his face, along with the splatters of blood across his armor , the white tunic attempting to hide an old scar that stretched the span of his back . Her eyes scanned their way up , landing on another scar that stretched from side to side of his face . She scoffed , getting ready to allow her form to drip away . Huitzilopochtli sensed a disturbance in his temple and appeared .

Staring silently at the meeting of 2 very young and hormonal gods . Huitzilopochtli mentally face palmed and cursing fate before grabbing Khonshu roughly "Enough ! Y/n/n temple now !! She sighed dramatically "Huitzilli ! Not the first male I've met !" Huitzilli only stared before fixing her with a quirked brow . Sighing, she took the sign and teleported back to the temple .

……

Khonshu- she later found out , was the god of the moon per the Egyptian Pantheon. She stretched as she adjusted her dress across her shoulders . Khonshu, as of late , had confessed that he was a misfit amongst his pantheon . She burped silently as she feasted on the kill of the day , as the Egyptian god stared silently as she gnawed on a piece of turkey as the Egyptian god stared at a loss of words .

She blinked questioningly, offering him the other leg as his lips curled. They were currently sitting on a branch of a ceiba tree. “Do you always eat like it’s your last meal ?” she frowned softly at his question “What do you mean ?” He tilted his mask to the side, taking the offered meat and taking a small bite out of the food “You’re supposed to eat with time , not in a rush !” she blinked before huffing “I have things to do ! I have to protect the children and women that pray to me , I must listen and answer their prayers . I must make sure the moon stays in its place and the stars don’t eat my people. Also Tlaloc and the others have a fast , lasts 14 of your days“ she said softly pointing to the starry sky as it twinkled . She tossed a bone into the sky watching as it fell back to the earth a way away . Khonshu scoffed, “And you're the goddess of what ?” she turned to him , placing her leg up on the arm of the tree , letting one hang down “Why does it matter ? If i’m so uncivilized , you're just gonna go home and tell your apa . And you're a boy ! I don’t have time for boys !” she said matter-of-factly before standing up fully on the branch in a single movement , her armor materializing around her body , her weapons on her hip .

"You're a strange woman ! How do you see the moon as a danger ? It protects ?!" she glared softly , her fingers splayed across the grip of her macuahuitl as she glared

"How can you be that stupid ?" she said before nodding at the sky "The moon goddess nearly slayed my guardian and his mother for becoming pregnant and having no father " she said softly before adjusting her belt "The moon to me has always been an evil thing , i'd go as far as to say taboo subject . Also i am a Sun goddess !" she said softly , stretching softly and staring at the moon's face as it lit up briefly before Khonshu hummed "Am i evil to you ? I am the god of the moon in my pantheon " he said silently before she turned to him before rolling her eyes ``Your an idiot surely , but evil ?" she snickered softly before poking his mask's cheek and his ribs ``Evil is the least likely thing I'd ever consider you to be , moonbug" she said softly before turning her attention to a small thicket that a cute little human frequented .

Khonshu was about to speak up before , she held her hand out covering his mouth as she stared at the small chubby little human that walked past them , it stirred a motherly instinct deep inside her that she was sure was wired into her being . But , she cooed at the child's babbles as it chased a small xolo across the clearing before a much older version chased after it . She squealed when a wet sensation dragged across her palm , before she heard a deep rich laughter that caused her cheeks to flush a deep dark color . She glared before scoffing "See ya , moonbug !" before teleporting home .

Khonshu's p.o.v

Khonshu stared blankly at the lack of a certain goddess , he enjoyed spending time with the unbiased goddess . She treated him kindly , and hadn't asked about his state the other day . Before the heat on his cheeks bugged him , before sighing in response "See you later , sunbug ".

Thank you for reading ! Have a good night (day) !!! :)

#khonshu x reader #my masterlist #moon knight x reader #khonshu #o.c #moonknight

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mountphoenixrp · 5 months

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We have a returning citizen in Mount Phoenix:

Noel Yunuen, a 28 year old son of Acat. He is a tattoo artist at Marimo Ink.

FC NAME/GROUP: Yoo Taeyang from SF9 CHARACTER NAME: Noel Yunuen AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 04.20.1995 PLACE OF BIRTH: Guadalajara, Jalisco OCCUPATION: tattoo artist / rehabilitated(?) grave robber HEIGHT: 189 cm DEFINING FEATURES: black wavy hair with white streaks in, it's usually layered and kept short, though he toys with letting it grow back from time to time. he also has his fingers blacked out along with black bands circling up from his wrists to his shoulders and from his ankles to his thighs. Both his ears are pierced as well as his lower lip; he has the industrial, tragus, and orbital as well as small gauges to still be able to put earrings in. for the lip piercing, he has a labret in the shape of a black hoop hugging the entirety of his bottom lip. On the sides of his neck, right where it connects with his jaw, there are two small dahlia flowers: one peach and one red. His irises are quite particular and one would say one of his defining features, for they’re a jade green color resembling the ancient pieces of jade jewelry the Maya wore.

PERSONALITY: he’s unapologetically sarcastic though he mostly doesn’t mean any harm; coy glances and smug grins over a glass of blood wine are his signature, but he finds peace in listening to the reasoning behind a person’s tattoo - they’re sacred to him, so every detail that gets explained fills his jade eyes with tremendous joy. whether someone believes in him or not doesn’t bother him in the slightest, what matters is the passion they fill their ink with. to him, that someone thinks a piece of his artwork is worthy of being on their skin is the greatest honor and will treat any of his clients with the utmost respect, always attentive to their every need.

noel finds social gatherings incredibly amusing: he’s charming, eloquent and perhaps enjoys causing an impression on people a tad too much. he puts himself out there and he enjoys all the stares directed his way, be they in approval or in judgment, he basks in the attention that he gets just by being himself. addiction is no stranger to him, be it to substances or pain itself, he indulges in every sin known to mankind. it was a godly habit he had inherited from his godly father - acting as if he has the right to receive all the goods in the world.

HISTORY: “don’t come back too late. ya es tarde, mijo.”

he should’ve listened. soft whimpering filled the forest as small bare feet pushed their way through the dirt and leaves desperate to find their way back home. the sun had lost the battle and begun its descent down the horizon as the dark of night claimed the skies. he was lost. “nana…” the young boy whimpered out as he hid behind a tree, into wild bushes for protection for the creatures that preyed the ancient silence of time and the threats that plagued it. the forest was mischievous, playful… dangerous. it knew things, saw things - felt things and hid them and so it hid noel from the dangers of the nightly world. noel was different, you see; worship ran through his veins, painted his eyes the color of godly skin and gifted him nature as his reign. he was inkhearted, meant to bind and sacrifice for divinity in this mundane world and bring back the honor of the fallen gods and so the leaves led him to a hidden paradise - a place the pale demons couldn’t manage to corrupt.

hidden deep in the heart of the forest the tomb of many and temple of one remained dormant, waiting for when the time was right before opening the chest of forbidden memories for the heir to claim before his fate was set in those very temple stones, and then, in the gentle embrace of the morning sun he was taken by the hands that would shape his life. his grandmother was left behind, waiting by the edge of the woods for the boy she raised to return and he never did. noel didn’t know what became of her but she never left his thoughts, not once in the seven thousand, six hundred and sixty-five days did he not spare her a sigh to the wind. he felt unworthy of her forgiveness for his hands had learned to steal, to harm, to take and take without permission or redemption and consequence; though it was never his intention, the grave robbers that found him in the temple had taught him to survive in this world’s cruel claws.

with them, he found not only the shadows but also paradise on earth on their travels. he found his gifts, forbidden riches and even love; a love so vibrant it put whatever stolen masterpieces there were in museums to shame. it was a love that might’ve made even the gods jealous, so it ended and with it’s end came a new chapter in his life. one written in hellish deals and painted with blood, corrupting part of his soul with greed - he enjoyed ending and soon learned the taste of blood fueled his reach for new horizons and he had his eye set on one: Mount Phoenix.

PANTHEON: Mayan CHILD OF: Acat POWERS: paint/ink manipulation; he can manipulate paint and ink as if they’re an extension of his being. when mixed with his blood, they turn poisonous and can sting to the touch. through this he’s learned to solidify his blood with the ink in his skin into sharp blades for fighting in case he needs to. This power also allows the creation of moving paintings, they cannot be interacted with just observed. he often uses this to recreate memories he’s fond of, but can be applied to quite anything he feels like painting.

pain transferal; he can take someone’s pain and transfer it onto himself or onto someone else - doing the latter, however, weakens him greatly.

blessing/curse; his blessings come in the form of small painted flowers on the skin, their purpose is to make the blessed a bit happier, a bit luckier, a bit less lonely - his curses however are bleeding scars of wilted flowers, they’re a little hex of unluck and his brand for his targets.

STRENGTHS: pain; he has a high pain tolerance, almost to the point where if pain is too extreme his entire body goes numb. this often makes him feel euphoric and provides a boost of energy for a limited amount of time.

blood; blood sacrifices were a part of his father’s existence, they were offerings made to him and his kind to honor them, feed them, satiate their thirst and pay respects. drinking blood is part of his daily life and helps keep him healthy.

tattooing; being the son of the god of tattoos and scarification, doing either of the two activities strengthens him and his abilities.

WEAKNESSES: sunlight; just as direct sunlight can make a freshly made tattoo burn, his physical strength deteriorates whenever he stands outside during daytime. he can still walk, but his eyesight blurs and he feels constantly light headed. It’s manageable thought.

pain; a two edged sword - while also being one of his greatest strengths, being in pain for too long makes him behave erratically, almost as if in bloodlust.

blood; even if drinking blood regularly keeps him healthy, drinking too much will slowly drive him insane, potentially turning him into a cold blooded killer.

#kpop rp #krp #sf9 #yoo taeyang #sf9 taeyang #mp; welcome

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megatraven · 6 months

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Hydra x MC - Soulmate AU Drabble

An AU where the world turns to color when you meet your soulmate; this is their first meeting, in the elevator at H.E.R.A. :)

The moment the elevator doors close behind her, their eyes lock.

One second.

Two.

Three, and then-

The world explodes into color.

Or, more accurately, it melts into color. The shades of grey both have lived in throughout their lives fades away, replaced by a vibrancy never known prior.

She blinks, and takes a moment to fully take in the man before her:

His eyes are bright and clear, a color she doesn't yet know the word for, but one she's certain is going to be her very favorite. His hair's a little messy, pulled back into a short ponytail. His suit is a bit rumpled- likely from being forced into handcuffs and dragged through H.E.R.A.. Aside from that, though, she can tell he dresses nicely. Finally, she returns to stare at his face.

Whatever witty quip the man looked like he was about to say, he snaps his mouth shut and straightens up instead, almost looming over her if it weren't for the fact that he was more shocked then even her. His eyes search her, taking her in as she had just done him, before they settle on meeting her gaze. There's something that he's searching for, that much she can tell. But for whatever it was, he must not find it as his gaze hardens again, and she feels some odd mix of disappointment and longing when he looks away.

One of the guards pulls him back, breaking their moment further, and it's only then that she notices how close he'd been to her.

"Cut it out, Hydra," the other says, and she blinks.

Oh.

Hydra.

As in, the godly monster.

What twist of fate that her apparent soulmate isn't a man at all, but a monster in handcuffs.

"Are you kidding me?" she asks aloud, feigning indignance in lieu of the many other tumultuous emotions she's feeling just then. "HIM?"

Hydra gawks for all of a second before a deep scowl forms on his lips, his eyes much more cold in this color than the greys before.

"Her? Tell the gods to cut it out, because this joke isn't funny," he spits out, shaking his head in muted disgust. "One of H.E.R.A.'s dogs.... unbelievable."

Weirdly, that draws a startled laugh from her.

"Me? I'd rather an agent over a... a loanshark wannabe!"

"And I'd rather a loanshark over someone who gets on the wrong elevator!" he barks back.

Her rebuttal dies on her tongue, one quick glance at the elevator's panel telling her that Hydra's right. Her cheeks warm up and she scowls, just as his scowl melts into a terribly infuriating smirk.

"This is the right elevator!" she exclaims, crossing her arms and turning away. Even that can't save her, though- she can feel his eyes burning into her, and she just knows he's still smirking her way. Her shoulders droop, and she deflates with an embarrassed sigh. "It... it's just going in the wrong direction, that's all."

He almost laughs- almost. She can see it in the way his lips twitch, breaking his smirk for the quickest second.

They're quiet the rest of the ride down to H.E.R.A.'s holding cells, and though she can feel his eyes on her, she's resolute in looking anywhere but him. It seems to take ages to get there, even as she busies herself with admiring colors she's never been privy to before.

When the elevator dings, she jumps a little, and looks up just in time to catch Hydra's gaze again. She's not surprised to find him staring still- she could feel that he was- but his expression is notably warmer. At least, it is until an agent cuts in front of them, breaking the spell. Once the agent is out of the elevator, Hydra's eyes have turned cold once more, and his expression reveals nothing as he's herded out to his cell.

She's going to be late if she doesn't get to her floor right now... but she can't help linger, just for a moment longer. She watches the way he walks, back to her, and how despite the handcuffs, his aura flickers to life, just briefly. Five serpentine heads come into view, each one looking at her, and for some reason this makes her blush ignite all over. Then they're gone, too hard to keep up with aura marble wrapped around his wrists. He's out of sight in the next second as she pushes the button to her floor and the doors close them off from each other.

The whole way up, she thinks of him- his striking eyes, that terrible smirk... the warmth hiding behind his cool exterior. Her heart is beating a little too fast by the time the doors ding open again.

She clocks in- just in the nick of time, somehow- and makes it to Cyprin's office just in time for her meeting with them. They offer her a half-dozen of cases to pick from, but there's only one offer she listens to.

Him.

Hydra's case.

She can help him- or at least, she can learn more about him.

She asks for it, and Alex gives it to her gladly, if a bit wary of the monster in question. She doesn't mention what happened to her in the elevator to them- not yet, though part of her wonders if they can't tell- instead taking the file they offer her.

Once she's at her desk, she opens it up, and is greeted by the same man she'd seen just moments before.

Hydra.

Age unknown.

Godly monster with a terribly powerful aura- take caution.

"Alright, Hydra," she murmurs, heart still racing with anticipation as she flips through the pages. Unable to help it, she smiles. "Let's see what you're in for."

#lovestruck voltage #lovestruck #astoria: fate's kiss #labyrinths of astoria #astoria #hydra x mc #hydra #afk mc #afk hydra #my fic #wip

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thesolferino · 3 years

Text

Favor

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: angst, fluff

⤷ word count: 8.4k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a day. things only seem to go downhill from there.

It started as a favor.

On a quiet night in your apartment when you stared at your phone for way longer than your eyes could physically take and rolled around on the bed, talking to one of your best internet friends, Dream, he asked you for a favor. His voice was muffled through the mic on his phone, the one connected to his computer way cleaner, but neither of you could bother getting off FaceTime and call on Discord instead - yet you still heard him loud and clear, because you burst out laughing right after.

“What the hell did you just say?” you laughed, turning on your stomach and opening the call, now entirely focused on the timer that counted every second you spent talking to him instead of your Twitter timeline.

“It’s embarrassing, don’t make me repeat it!” And for that sole reason, you wanted him to repeat it, loud and clear.

“Is this why you were so insistent on me coming down to Florida? So I could pretend to be your girlfriend at your cousin’s wedding so your family doesn’t think you’re a loser?” you laughed, finding the situation entirely absurd as he sputtered, words mashing together, trying to defend himself.

“No! No, I wanted you to come here because we’re friends and I-I wanna meet you, this is just a… benefit, of sorts.” he replied, and you couldn’t help but laugh even harder at his poor attempt of trying to save face.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” you chuckle. “What’s in it for me?”

“Whatever you want.” he responded, much too quick. Your eyebrows raised.

“Whatever I want?” you parroted.

“Yes.” he confirmed. “I’ll buy you something, if you want; I’ll even pay you-”

“Pay me?! I’m not a whore, Dream!”

“That is not AT ALL what I was saying!” he cut in, yelling as you burst into a new fit of laughter. “It’s just… I sort of already told them I have a girlfriend and I was just hoping you’d say yes ‘cause it’s gonna be very awkward if I show up without the girlfriend in question.”

You put your head in your hands and he sort of dryly laughed at himself when he heard your palm hit your forehead. “What is wrong with you, man?”

“Listen, it’s not gonna be so bad! Just stay by my side for a bit, look pretty, we’ll get some drinks, and then dip. That’s it, I promise.” he reasoned.

“And here I thought we were gonna make out in front of everyone. What’s a fake relationship if we don’t make a show out of it?” you sarcastically snickered, and could practically see his eyeroll from miles away.

“If that’s what you want, then we’ll do it, by all means.” he replied and you laughed, shaking your head in mild disbelief.

“Alright, well, if you already told them, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” you huffed, pretending to be way more bummed out about it than you really were. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you so much, oh my God.” he replied and you chuckled at the sheer relief in his voice.

A few seconds of silence pass. “What’s the catch?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“How do you want me to publicly embarrass myself in exchange for this favor?”

“Personally, I think that forcing you to tweet that tweet about pissing yourself in bed again and also tweeting that everyone should subscribe to me isn’t “publicly embarrassing” at all.”

“Maybe I should’ve picked a different fake girlfriend.”

“Sucks to suck, pissbaby.”

The weeks leading up to your meetup felt like years, with every treacherous minute of you two talking over muffled mics and shitty webcams feeling longer than it should, your empty apartment feeling emptier and emptier by the day. Was it even possible to miss a person you hadn’t even met yet?

It turns out that it very much was, because as soon as the painfully long weeks were up and you were finally metres away from him, you jumped in his arms like a woman finally seeing her soldier husband after the war, standing on your tiptoes while he bent down the best he could to hug you back. His chest rumbled with a warm laugh when you turned your head ever so slightly towards his ear.

“Hello, boyfriend.” And just like that, the warm turned into a groan of faux annoyance while you burst into laughter and he pulled away, scanning your face with an equally annoyed look.

“I should’ve never asked you for that. You’re never letting it go, are you?” Yeah, you were kind of annoying with the amount of corny boyfriend jokes you threw his way - you had to give him that. But then again, he crafted his own fate and now he must accept the consequences.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise your majesty wasn’t appreciating the work I’m doing! I just won’t show up at that wedding, how about that?” you bit back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re such an idiot.” he laughed. “Give me those bags.”

A blissful week had passed, and he hadn’t pissed you off in real life nearly as much as you thought he would. It took a bit of getting used to to his family calling him Clay instead of his beloved internet username, and you did get a couple of suggestive looks from his mother the first few times she visited - you had a couple of “eye conversations” in which she never exactly asked if you were his girlfriend, and you never exactly denied it, but you knew both of you felt the weight of the unspoken words yet you had to keep everything secret and ambiguous. Or at least you thought you did, before he revealed to you that he told his mom the two of you were dating already. Seems like the glances were knowing and not questioning. Maybe you weren’t as good at eye conversation as previously thought.

Living with him was fine, mostly because he had godly air conditioning and a house that was probably way too big for him, and also a very cute cat that followed you everywhere and made living with a man for a full two weeks way more bearable. Finding out that he can’t cook was one of the most bizarre revelations about him that you’d had in the years of your friendship, and you demanded he watched as you made chicken wraps. You complained about how he was 21 and couldn’t cook for himself, he complained about how it’s 2021 and he can just order from Chipotle or something, dude.

A week of goofing around and trying to hide the fact the two of you temporarily lived together from the internet had passed quicker than it should’ve, and for the first time in seven days, Netflix was turned off and the two of you were dressing up for the wedding, ready to set off with his parents and younger sister. He spent ages trying to convince you to match with him, which was quite literally impossible because he wore a black suit and you brought a red dress, which resulted in the two of you roaming around a local mall at 10 am, half asleep, looking for a reasonably formal black dress, because of course Dream always got his way.

An hour of arguing and your fashion tastes clashing later, you picked an off shoulder black dress with a high slit, along with a pair of pumps, both of which you forced him to pay for, and went back home, ready to glam both of you up as much as humanly possible because you were not ready to let him show up in some horrendous pair of shoes and claim to be your boyfriend.

“Is this okay?” you questioned, turning from the mirror to face him and let him be the judge of your shimmery black and white eyelids, spending way too much time on a makeup look for a wedding of someone whose name you didn’t even know. He blinked at you as his judging gaze washed over you like a wave, scanning you up and down while you nervously cocked your head, leg tapping in faux impatient annoyance to cover up the fact that you felt like prey under his eyes.

“It’s… yeah, it is. You look good.” Dream confirmed, nodding his head at you in a movement that was way too quick and snappy and you turn back to the mirror with a huff, watching him stare right back at you.

“Too much, right? I should try something else.” You say, grabbing your makeup remover wipes, but he cuts in before you can even wipe a single smudge.

“No, no, it looks good, I promise. Really good. Don’t touch it.” Something way too sincere in his voice makes the air tense, more tense than usual, but you drop it, deciding to just take the compliment with a tight lipped smile.

“Okay. You ready?” you ask, and he nods, nervously straightening out his suit before looking back at you with an anxious grin.

“Yeah, I think so. Do I look fine?”

He did. He looked more than fine. You’d never seen him actually dress up for something and put proper care into his looks - he was practically forced into doing it by you this time as well - so seeing him in an actual black suit, all formal and expensive looking, messy dirty blond hair properly combed for the first time in ages, made you gulp and look away. You sort of never understood the argument that women and men can’t be friends because you were never attracted to one of your male friends, ever. Dream was born to be an exception to every rule, it seemed.

Realising that you abruptly looked away, you attempted to awkwardly clear your throat and smile at him.

“Yeah, you do. Let’s go.”

During the ride there, his mother seemed to finally explode and the words that have clearly wanted to pour out of her mouth for ages finally came out. You supposed it was better for the poor woman, and did your best to suppress a laugh when Dream dramatically sighed and leaned against the window when she nosily spoke up.

“So… since when have you and Clay been together? He’s told us absolutely nothing!” She spoke up from the passenger seat, shifting to look at you, excited smile plastered on her face and you politely smiled back, mentally noting that you’d have to bully the shit out of him for acting like his mom is embarrassing him in front of his 8th grade crush.

“Ah, we’ve been friends for a long while, but we only started dating a month or so ago, because it’s hard doing long distance and all that.” you said, hoping it would sound believable enough because the two of you rehearsed this a few days ago, writing out a whole backstory from how you started dating to what exact words he used when he asked you out. There were a couple of arguments here and there, such as the fact you refused to say you confessed you’ve been in love with him for years and he refused to say he admitted he’s been your “bottom bitch” for 3 years but in the end, you somehow managed to agree on a cohesive timeline of events.

“Oh, does that mean you’re going to move here?” she questioned, and that one didn’t surprise you either, Dream having prepared a full list of answers to questions that people might ask in your notes app. He was a perfectionist to the point it got on your nerves, but that had its own perks.

“No, but I’ll definitely visit more often, and if it goes well, I might as well move here.” you smiled back at her and she nodded, going back to staring through the windshield. You and Dream exchange a relieved glance that you hope his younger sister doesn’t notice.

“Let me tell you, I was waiting for you two to get together! He always talked about you, I was getting tired of him, you know that?” she giggled and you widened your eyes at Dream who, snapping out of somewhat of a daze, immediately jumped to protest, light blush adorning his pale cheeks.

“No, I didn’t! I did not, mom, don’t lie to her.” he argued while all she did was laugh.

“Oh come on, it’s not embarrassing now that you’re together!” she kept going, and his younger sister joined in, to make it even worse.

“Yeah, you do talk about her a lot, not gonna lie.” she spoke up and his cold glare directed her way told you everything you needed to know, hanging on by a thread not to burst out laughing. He refused to even look your way, turning back to the window as his cheeks started heating up. You couldn’t help but let out at least a bit of a giggle, placing your hand on his arm in fake comfort.

“It’s okay, you can admit it now.” your tone borderlined on mocking and he knew you’d make fun of him for days to come so he stayed silent while the rest of the car burst into laughter.

The wedding was truly beautifully set up, set in a hotel wedding venue, walls painted in pure innocent white with hints of gold here and there, and you nudged Dream as the two of you observed in awe, asking what sort of money the groom had to be able to afford this sort of expensive venue. Nudging him proved to be way easier now, because you linked arms - you originally made fun of him for suggesting to walk like that instead of holding hands like normal people, telling him you’d look like you were at your high school prom, but he persisted, and you didn’t end up looking as goofy as you thought.

“He’s a doctor or something, pretty sure.” he replied, quick feet trudging down the long hallways, your own struggling to keep up with him, especially in your heels. He seemed to be in a rush to sit and get it over with as soon as possible so he could avoid any nosy family members, but bad luck followed him everywhere, it seems, because as soon as you two entered the place where the bride and groom would unite, at least three different pairs of eyes locked on you, and you immediately saw a fairly elderly woman get up with open arms, staring at Dream with a grin on her face. You saw him immediately tense up, and almost laughed right then and there.

“There’s my boy! Oh, you’ve grown so much, come here!” The woman looked to be in her fifties and Dream let go of your arm to nervously laugh and fall into her hug, the two rocking from side to side as she kept going on about how it seemed that he grew taller and taller every time she saw him.

When the two pulled away, her eyes fixed on you, judgingly scanning from head to toe and you suddenly realised why Dream tensed up the way he did - old white women sure had a way to make you anxious. Thankfully, he stepped in.

“Aunt Bessie, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is aunt Bessie, my mom’s older sister.” he generously offered the explanation you were so obviously lacking and you grinned, as if that information helped you in any way, and stuck out your hand in an offer of a handshake. However, she seemed to have different plans, because as soon as she heard the words “my girlfriend” her face lit up as if she won the lottery and her lips stretched into a smile, opening her arms for you the same way she did for him.

“Oh my God, you finally got a girlfriend? Come here!” she said, shaking her head at your outstretched hand and gesturing you to return the hug which you quite hesitantly did, politely laughing as she hugged you tighter than you’d deem appropriate. Dream came from a family of huggers - that much was apparent from him, you guess, but you weren’t exactly prepared for this.

Aunt Bessie seemed to be way louder and screechier than expected, because the word “girlfriend” boomed through the room and off the snowy walls, and at least five other family members of his turned around to check who the lucky fellow that finally got a girlfriend was. Another one of his aunts seemed to notice the commotion and suddenly, another older woman with shoulder length, dyed blonde hair, along with her two younger kids, was hurling at you as well.

“I always complained to him that it was about time he got a girlfriend! He’s a fine young man, no wonder you picked him, honey.” Aunt Bessie shot you a knowing look and you closed your mouth in a tight lipped smile in a feverish attempt to keep down the laugh that threatened to escape you.

“Oh yeah, he definitely is.” you giggled, looking up at Dream again who looked like he wanted the earth below his feet to open and swallow him whole. Before you could nudge him in the ribs and tease him for hours to come, the other aunt suddenly spoke up.

“Clay! Oh my gosh, is that you?” she exclaimed, shocked grin on her face, and you briefly wondered if Dream ever even visited his family. He nervously smiled, obviously not really sure who this woman even is, but he hugged her back anyway, clearly walking the line between ‘happy to see his family’ and ‘insanely uncomfortable’.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, your dad hasn’t visited since we moved to Toronto! Look at how tall you are, you’re taller than my husband now! You used to be so tiny, whatever happened to you?” Upon hearing the word Toronto he seemed to realise who he was talking to as his eyes softened, and you wondered if he really was so expressive or you could just read him that well.

“I grew up, I guess.” He awkwardly laughed and she laughed harder than she should’ve before turning to you.

“Oh, and who is this?” She said, gaze periodically switching between him and you, a knowing smile on her face which told you she definitely knew who you were.

“Ah, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is… my dad’s cousin, Mabel.” He introduced, large hand landing on your back, and you felt like you were experiencing déjà vu at the way her face lit up at the mention of a girlfriend.

“Wow, it’s so nice to meet you, Y/N!” She said, energetically shaking your hand, before turning back to Dream. “You never told us you got a girlfriend! You’re finally planning on settling down, huh?”

Your head snapped in his direction at the speed of light when she mentioned settling down, and you could see him tense up as well as he nervously laughed.

“Yeah, we haven’t visited in a while, so nobody from the family really knew. And, uh… we haven’t really thought of that yet, we’re taking it slow and everything.” He said and you were almost in awe at how good he was at bullshitting. The woman did nothing but laugh.

“Ah, don’t lie to me, I see the way you two look at each other! It’s your wedding we’ll be attending next!” She winked, and just as Dream got ready to fake laugh once again, her family called her over and she excused herself, walking off.

The two of you hurried to your seats as well, sitting down next to his younger sister.

“Your family is insane, man, holy shit.” You laughed in disbelief, staring at him as he shook his head, clearly as distressed as you were.

“Literally nobody in this family gives a single fuck if I’m single or not except the old aunties. And I seem to have a shit ton of those.” He muttered under his breath. “The way you look at each other - I literally didn’t even look at you properly that whole time!”

You cackled at that one, hitting his arm. “She’s right, Clay. You’re one fine young man, eh?” You nudged him as he groaned in embarrassment, only turning your way to glare at you.

You didn’t get to tease him for much longer, though, because the organ started playing and the bridesmaids and groomsmen lined up, the groom standing at his designated place. The bride walked in, arms locked with her father, thin white veil covering her face as she walked down the aisle, looking angelic in her puffy wedding gown. Silky brown hair fell down her shoulders, curled towards the ends, and you could see the hint of blood red lipstick beneath the veil. She looked beautiful - the groom seemed to think so as well, because you could see him tapping the corner of his eye lightly, wiping any stray tears.

She finally made it to the end and stepped to face her soon-to-be husband as her father moved away, sitting back in his chair. The wedding officiant stepped up, and held a speech much longer than it should be, which just led you to zone out.

One day you’d be beneath that veil, wouldn’t you? One day, you’ll face your fiancé the same way she is, and you’ll let your hearts link with a string that nobody but the two of you could snap. Who would that be, though? Who could you even trust with your heart in their hands? And you’re not aware of how and why and when, but your eyes shot up at Dream, whose eyes also glinted in that way where you knew he wasn’t paying attention, and maybe he was thinking about the same thing as you. Maybe one day, you’ll be attending his wedding, forcing one of your friends to play a fake boyfriend as he wipes his tears, waiting for his bride to get to him.

It was disheartening, the thought of being a bystander while he locks lips with somebody else. You supposed you just liked being the center of attention, so you let yourself pretend you were his bride in your daydreams. Separating daydreams from rational thoughts was mandatory, because you weren’t sure how you’d explain to yourself that you can’t stand seeing Dream marry someone else.

Dream, the infamous hopeless romantic, still seemed out of it, maybe even a little emotional, despite not being that close with either of the two. He was probably thinking about his own wedding as well, thinking about his future, the face he’d see when he pulled back the veil.

Just then, his eyes darted to yours, and you realised you were caught staring, snapping your head back to the couple that started reading their vows by now. You started going red from the neck up, cheeks on fire as you could feel his gaze burning into you. He turned back after a few seconds, though, probably assuming you stared at him because you were bored, and neither of you spoke, even though you kind of wish you did. What even is there to say, though?

By the time you snapped back, the “I do”s were already being said, and her veil was getting lifted, showing her beauty to everyone present, and as they kissed the whole room bursted into cheers and applause in support of the newlyweds. The two exit, teary eyed, their parents follow close behind, and that’s when Dream’s family rushes both of you to your feet, following the two into the reception hall where the actual party would take place.

From then on, the wedding is the same as any other. The two have their first dance, they give a welcoming speech, and Dream lets you stuff your face with cake and repeatedly refills your wine glass as repayment for dragging you into this whole thing. At some point, he stretches his hand out to you and asks for a dance like a rom-com main character, and you’re not sure exactly why he did that because he’s mostly terrible at dancing, but you had fun letting him twirl you until you got dizzy anyway.

You also realised just how much he did actually need a fake girlfriend, because it seemed like every twenty minutes some sort of relative of his would walk up to the two of you and congratulate him on “finally getting a girlfriend”. You ended up bullying him for that as well, wondering just how long he’s been single for if they’re all this surprised that he’s got a girlfriend, to which he just downed the glass of water he’d been sipping for half an hour and asked you about the weather.

His family took a few pictures with the new couple - you even got to speak to the bride at some point, congratulating her and wishing the two of them well, but in the span of a few hours, the wedding was over and the newlyweds made a great exit, signifying the end of the party. The two of you were driven home by his parents, and you waved them goodbye as you stumbled to the front door, your heels insanely uncomfortable and the red wine in your stomach weighing down on you; you just wanted to get out of this dress and into a pair of pajamas and pass out on his couch in the living room.

That’s sort of exactly what you did - you half-assed taking your makeup off, wiping down your face a couple of times, deciding that was enough before changing into some worn pajamas and plopping down on the couch next to Dream who already claimed his place and sunk into the cushion while a random movie played on the TV. The two of you basked in the comfortable silence that surrounded you, the exhausted, tired type. You both appreciated the quiet and fell asleep sitting next to each other, wedding already forgotten.

That night, he went from Dream to Clay.

The departure was bittersweet. You left two days after that, your hug at the airport tight, warm, filled with a sugary sweet feeling you couldn’t quite place and sour acid that ate away at you because you didn’t want to leave in the slightest. His arms were warm, inviting, whispering for you to stay but you left anyway, waving him goodbye, setting off to home.

It seemed like all your problems came and went with him, because a week later, at 3 in the morning while you were up editing a video, you got an all caps message on your Discord from Sapnap.

“YOU’RE DATING DREAM?”

You blinked at your computer screen, white letters blinding you in the dark, brain trying to keep up with why he even thought that. Within 10 seconds, another message, this time from Dream.

“so i told george and sapnap that we’re dating”

“don’t kill me pls”

Yeah, you weren’t going to kill him, per se, but he definitely made your life a lot harder than it should be. You opened Discord, Premiere Pro and the unedited video abandoned, typing back to Clay quickly.

“WHY”

He responded immediately, as one panicked man does.

“they’ve been making fun of me for being single for ages now :(“

“we already did this fake dating thing before and it went perfectly fine”

“just play along for a month or so”

“pls”

You audibly sighed. And as if he could hear you, he started typing again.

“i’ll promote you on my channel more”

“just pls do it”

“you love me, right”

Another sigh fell from your lips before you could stop it. Of course you did, because if you didn’t, there’s no way you would be playing into this. You typed back.

“fine”

He messaged back immediately.

“THANK YOU”

“LOVE YOU <333”

With a shake of your head, you mumbled “idiot” with the ghost of a smile flashing on your face, switching back to your video, opting to ignore Sapnap for a little bit. He could wait.

Fake dating seemed pretty damn easy during the first week - you thought you were killing it by sending corny tweets and staged selfies so he could screenshot them and send them to the groupchat, giggling on call about how oblivious they are and how you’re fooling them so good, both of you opting to ignore the parts where they claimed they knew the two of you were gonna get together eventually. It was fun, lighthearted, and an excuse to flirt with someone you had nothing official with.

As much as all your problems came and went with Clay, though, they came and went with his friends as well, especially that hopeless man Clay called his best friend.

Because yeah, of course Sapnap was the one to accidentally spill to the public that the two of you were “dating”.

George was streaming at what was apparently a normal time in the UK, not so much for Florida, and Clay was sleeping while you were watching his stream while making some food for yourself. It was going fine, a bit of a chill stream, and you leaned against the fridge as your oven preheated, tired eyes following his Minecraft skin.

“Sophie, thank you for the dono! ‘Hey George, I love your videos, just wanted to ask if you were speedrunning with Dream today?’” he read out, and you could faintly hear Sapnap join the stream through your headphones.

“No I’m not, Dream’s… I don’t know what Dream’s doing right now, actually. He’s not responding to me, though. Probably talking to his girlfriend still.” he continued, exaggerating the last part mockingly, still playing into the whiny role of being upset that Clay was ditching the two of them for you. That majorly woke you up, though, as you stood straight on your feet immediately, because oh no, nobody was supposed to know.

You exited out of the Twitch app quickly, letting the stream play in the background as you tried to fish for Sapnap’s profile on Discord and text him as quick as possible, trying to warn him to not let anybody know, but before you could do it, you heard his laughter clear in the stream.

“Yeah, Y/N, his sweetie poo.” Sapnap said, causing George to laugh even louder, before moving onto the next topic, and your heartbeat picked up an insane amount, nails loud and probably damaging your phone screen as you typed as quickly as humanly possible to yell at him because this was not planned, at all.

You heard him go quiet after you shot him a couple of messages over Discord (“SAPNAP” “ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID” “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU” “NOBODY KNOWS YET” “IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU”), type something to George who then fell quiet as well for a few seconds, pure horror on his face, and then went back to streaming as if nothing happened while Sapnap profusely apologised to you on his and George’s behalf.

No apology could fix what had already been done, though, and you were left alone with the warzone that was Twitter who had already speculated the two of you were dating long before while Clay peacefully slept somewhere in his house at 4 am in Florida. You bombarded him with messages and waited until he woke up ‘cause what were you even supposed to do?!

You chose to spend your time finishing the pizza you were originally supposed to make and almost burnt your whole apartment down because you forgot the oven was on for a whole hour while yelling at Clay’s idiotic best friends. You yelled at Sapnap, who kept apologising to you, you yelled at George, who yelled back that it’s not that big of a deal because people were bound to find out anyways, and you yelled at Clay, because he was the guilty one somehow for not being awake during your breakdown.

He did eventually wake up though, to the shitshow that were his notifications with at least thirty messages from each of you, messages from his other YouTube friends who were fairly surprised, and his entire fanbase going ham on Twitter. He was surprisingly calm about it - calmer than you were, anyways, and sheepishly said over the phone that the fake dating thing may have to go on for a little longer since you couldn’t just date for a month and then break up, and you were sort of okay with that.

And of course, the business side of him awoke at that moment, and he giddily told you about the amount of views the two of you could pull if you did the same shit you do with George and Sapnap anyway, but on livestream.

You rolled your eyes.

And then agreed anyway.

And so, the charade began.

His Twitter statement was up shortly, telling the people that you’d been dating for a couple of weeks and weren’t planning to tell anybody yet until a certain someone spilled their guts live, and the fact Dream was dating someone, let alone another popular streamer, took the internet by storm. You expected hate, and you got quite a bit of that, but the people that had shipped the two of you before were certainly more than delighted and a lot of Clay’s fans were supportive.

Now, both of you had excuses to do chill streams together and just hang out and you took the opportunity and ran with it.

You’d sit and play Geoguessr or just try and speedrun Minecraft a bunch of times for hours on end, doing stupid bits and things you’d be doing offline anyways, with a little more flirting than usual, because that’s what made it interesting.

“Oh this is France, for sure.” you claimed one night, two or three weeks after the secret was officially out, chewing on the fries you bought for this specific occasion, streaming on his alt to a few thousand people.

“You think so? It could be Belgium, too.” he responded, humming in thought as he looked around.

“I know so.” you responded.

“How?”

“I just do. Gamer intuition, babe.” you said, and he wheezed at your response, repeating the words gamer intuition under his breath.

“No, seriously. It is France, I know it is, I’ve seen so many pictures of that place I know it like the back of my hand now. That’s Lyon, or something.” you continued, plopping another french fry into your mouth.

“You have? Why do you know so much about France, that’s so random.” he responded, opening the map and pointing to France, although he keeps looking around, unsure of his decision.

“I dunno, I like it there. I wish I could move there.” you replied.

“Why, though?”

“It’s pretty and heavily romanticised! Just like me!” you joked and he laughed, before letting you continue. “I dunno, it’s the city of love. Be a little romantic.”

“The… the city of love is whatever city the two of us are in.” he said, and it took a few seconds for you to process the joke before letting out a fake disappointed sigh.

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone as corny as you.”

At that, he bursts into wheezes, and you follow along, enjoying the sound of his laughter coursing through your headphones more than you used to a few weeks back. It feels nice, feels right, acting like this. You like calling him your boyfriend more than you think you should.

A few weeks go by, and it feels all too natural. It feels too natural, talking to him first thing in the morning when you’ve barely even had your coffee, calling him pet names, throwing sweet words at each other publicly like they mean nothing. It feels all too natural, and nice, and all too right, and you don’t even notice when the two of you cross the line between public and private, and you’re stuck making stupid jokes about making out when you first see each other when there’s nobody to witness them except the walls of your rooms, but you don’t like thinking about that, because you know it’ll bring nothing but confusion. The current this that the two of you have is perfect to you, perfectly lighthearted and funny and fun, and you intend on keeping it that way, refusing to think about it in any way past jokes.

That is, until you can’t anymore.

It’s late, again, and you’re staring at his contact name on your phone screen, lazily lying on the bed. It reminds you of a night from roughly 3 months ago, when your whole friendship seemed to change in the few seconds it took you to process what he’d asked of you, and it feels weird, but nice.

“My mom really likes you, you know?” Clay breaks the quiet that you’ve learned to appreciate in his presence, and you exhale through your nose, the noise just short of a chuckle.

“Yeah?” You laugh, and he does as well.

“Yeah.” He reaffirms. “She thinks you’re a great girlfriend. Apparently I seem brighter ever since we got together.”

You laugh again. “I am a great girlfriend, to be fair. She’s totally right.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know that. If you’re as good of a girlfriend as you pretend to be, though, then you’re amazing.” He says, and words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Yeah? You wanna find out?” The flirty nature is nothing strange to the two of you, but this time it feels kinda different, it feels like you’re stepping into dangerous territory that there’s no coming back from. You feel like you’ve ruined everything, for some reason.

He laughs, like normal, though. He laughs like nothing happened at all, and you’re so, so grateful for that.

“Sure, let’s do it. You’re about to unpack the full Clay boyfriend experience.” He snickers and you laugh as well.

“That means I just unlock the dick as well as the personality.�� you respond, quick as always, and the wheeze that escapes him is so loud that it makes you laugh too.

“...Unlock the dick…” he repeats through another wheeze and you nod, laughing.

“Yeah! I mean I’m literally experiencing the boyfriend experience without actually having a boyfriend, it’s fuckin’ great.” you say and he hums.

“You could have one, though.”

The implications are crazy, his words are crazy, he’s crazy and everything that he could mean and couldn’t mean by that is driving you crazy too, brain faltering and heart seeming way too big for your chest to contain it. It’s silent.

“I could, I guess.”

You choose to say, and he switches the topic naturally, like he never said anything.

Things are never the same again.

It’s not in a bad way. Sure, it is kind of a bad way for the feelings you’re trying to push down inside you, a bad way for hot nights when the unbearable heat forces you to stay up even when you don’t want to and you have no choice but to think about why you feel the way you feel as you melt into the burning sheets below you, a bad way for when he jokes about finding somebody else and you feel your stomach churning. A bad way for realising that this fake dating thing is really getting to you, but not a bad way in general.

Maybe it’s in a good way. Maybe the underlying implications whenever he makes jokes about making the relationship real are good, maybe the way he calls you in the middle of the night when he’s anxious and freaking out and defends himself by saying: “You’re my girlfriend, you’re always there for me, I just figured I could call you.” and you end up wondering if it’s possible to say jokes in such a vulnerable state or if he’s serious is good, maybe the way it’s been a few months and he won’t tell his own best friends that it was a joke the whole time is good, maybe the way you confronted him about it and he said he likes having you as his girlfriend is good.

Maybe the way the two of you are always walking the line between joking and being serious, between being friends and something more, between lies and pranks and emotional investment and fear of committing, and the way you’re always trying to push the other off, is good.

The fans love it. The fanart is incredible (serves especially well for those hot nights when you can’t fall asleep and you scroll, watching yourself fall in love with Clay in every universe, tales told by people who observe your story and find it worthy enough to retell in their own words, to take the love you pretend to have and turn it into something real), people love to gush over the compliments he sprinkles in at random times during conversation and the general flirty dynamic is loved by many, pulling in more views and attraction for you.

And you suppose that’s good too, but at some point, the good warps into bad, bad warps into terrible, and you wonder if this is all even worth the sleepless nights, wondering if he feels the same way.

Those thoughts haunt you more and more often every day. When you wake up, and text him first thing in the morning, your brain acknowledges that the camera is off - nobody’s around, people aren’t listening, so why are you still playing the role of a girlfriend and starting up a conversation with him when you haven’t even brushed your teeth properly? When you’re editing in the middle of the day and he calls to keep you company, making more stupid boyfriend jokes, your stomach flips in a weird way that makes you hate him, hate the way he can joke about these things so freely, like it doesn’t hurt him. Like it doesn’t affect him like it affects you.

But, as much as you wish you could hate him, you couldn’t bring yourself to, and that was the worst part. Because, in reality, whenever he laughed you’d smile without realising you did, whenever anything exciting happened to you he was the first one you went to, whenever you wanted to laugh or cry or sit in silence for hours or complain you always went to him, the one person who you know would listen. In reality, whenever he made a joke about giving up on the fake dating and making it real, you wished so bad that he was serious this time, that this was what it took and he’d crack and all of your suffering would end.

It eventually happens.

It’s a pretty chilly morning, birds chirp outside and the sun that slowly rises is covering the kitchen floor in a golden hue as you pour milk into your cereal with one hand and hold your phone in the other, letting Clay ramble about whatever it was this time, when he brought it up.

“So, when do you wanna come down to Florida again?” he asks casually, and you almost drop the gallon of milk in your hand.

“What?”

“I said, when are you coming down to Florida again? Last time you came was pretty fun.” he says, and an empty silence follows. There’s an unsaid “I miss you” that you don’t hear, and he’s too afraid of saying it.

“Florida wasn’t exactly on my schedule this month, man.” you say, placing your phone on the counter for a second. Clay sure knew how to surprise a person.

“Well put it down, then.” he jokes, and you hum.

“What, you got another wedding coming up?” you giggle and he groans - you never really stopped making fun of him for that wedding.

“No, I don’t. Can’t a man just miss seeing his beloved girlfriend?” It’s unbelievable how quickly dread can wash over you as soon as he makes one of those jokes. You were convinced the mix of anxiety and butterflies that appears in your stomach was gonna kill you sometime soon.

“He can, he’s just being weirdly insistent.” you argue nonetheless. “But sure, I’ll consider it.”

You do more than consider it - in a few weeks, you’re back at the airport, and falling into his arms has never given you such an adrenaline rush in your whole life. Something about having him wrapped around you, close to you, the warmth of his body radiating into yours sent you spiraling, head clouded with nothing but love and the fact that you wish you could stay there forever. You wished you could press pause and cherish the moment, let yourself bask in that feeling of pure love, pure adoration that you helplessly drowned in. But you couldn’t, and you left his arms feeling oddly empty.

Hiding the fact that you were unapologetically head over heels for him proved to be a hundred times more difficult when you were right there, next to him, talking to him, when you could just kiss him any second, feel his lips on yours and nobody would stop you - the opportunity was right there, looming over you, the devil on your shoulder taunting you, telling you to do it.

You got to wake up in the same house as him, watch his hair stick out in different directions and his raspy morning voice as he complained about the smell of your coffee, watch his eyes glint whenever he talked about something he liked and observe as he carried around Patches like a little baby. You got to experience every bit of domestic without the consequences of committing, and you wondered just how far this would go. For how much longer would the two of you blatantly ignore the fact that you were a couple that slapped the title “fake” on it because you were cowards who refused to admit what this truly was.

Not for long, apparently, because you grew tired, and decided to put an end to everything on one random Thursday night - and if he hated you forever for it, then so be it.

You were sitting on his couch, watching a random movie together, drowning in one of his Dream hoodies while you chewed the popcorn he made. It was dark outside, just past midnight, and you could see the branches of a tree swaying calmly through one of the nearby windows - the silence while he scrolled through his phone lazily was comforting too, everything was lazy and serene and it would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t for the constant anxiety that gripped you by the throat whenever you were in his close proximity, the nervousness that killed you, the upset feeling of wanting to cuddle up with him but knowing you can’t because you guys are just friends, and nothing more.

The couple on the screen kiss while a violin plays in the background - how fitting. Maybe that’s what pushes you to the edge, or maybe you were just that sick and tired.

You were exhausted, beyond exhausted. Your eyes were tired, the anxiety was morphing into annoyance and anger and you were ready to give up on it all. If this ended the friendship, at least you two had a good run. Your heart couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know, you still owe me a favor in return for pretending to be your girlfriend.” you say, and you sound gone, zoned out, more than you wish you were. You hear his phone turn off with a click.

“Yeah? What do you want?” Clay asks, and you blankly stare at the TV for a few seconds before turning to face him, eyes burning.

“Kiss me.”

It’s silent. The characters on screen are arguing. You hear the wind through one of his open windows.

“What?” he asks, voice cracking, and his expression falls. You’ve fucked it. Oh well.

“I want you to kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like someone’s watching and you wanna make it believable.” you say, eyes boring into his, your words having nowhere near as much of an effect on yourself as they do on him. Your eyes sting like they’re being lit on fire, and your throat is sort of closing up, but it’s fine. “Let me have this before I go, because once I leave, I don’t wanna do this anymore, Clay. I can’t pretend like I don’t want you to introduce me as your girlfriend and fully mean it. I can’t lie to your face anymore.”

Silence. Deafening silence, once again.

“I love you.” he blurts out, and you don’t even register it at first. “I don’t want this shit to be fake either. God, I really don’t. It hasn’t been fake for a while now, at least not on my part. I’m sorry, it’s just- it was easier to keep this bit going than it was to actually admit that I’m… into you.”

And once again, the room falls into silence, much like it always does whenever the two of you share moments like these.

And then, you burst into laughter.

“So… so you mean to tell me, that both of us have liked each other this whooooole fucking time, and just refused to admit it and ‘pretended to date’ instead?” you burst into giggles, and he looks sort of hesitant to laugh, but he does anyway.

“I mean… yeah? I was waiting for you to call me out for doing all that when nobody was watching! Why did you never call me out?! Don’t blame me, I made it so damn obvious that I wanted you!” he protests, and you almost can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Excuse me? You should’ve just fucking told me instead of making a million and one jokes about how I’m your girlfriend! We’re not in middle school, Clay!” you argue.

“Yeah, but I thought you’d catch on and talk to me about it at some point! You never called me out for anything!”

“So what, I’m supposed to just read your mind now? You’re fucking unbelievable.” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest and turning away in annoyance. As soon as a warm hand lands on your shoulder, though, the annoyance melts like wax under fire, leaving nothing behind.

“I still haven’t returned that favor, you know?” he whispers in your ear, breath fanning your neck, closer than he should be. The hairs on your neck stand up as you turn back to Clay, who wore a mischievous grin and a glint in his eyes that suggested no good.

You suppose bad can be good, sometimes.

As his lips press onto yours, that theory is proven true, because he sends a flicker of fire burning down your spine, spreading into your limbs, making your fingertips electric as you pulled him in closer, hand snaking up to grip at his hair - the everlasting grin against your own proves, once again, to be no good as his hands slip under your hoodie and grip your sides, but you think you enjoy this sort of bad.

They sneak up further, and you hear him chuckle into the kiss as your insides melt at his touch. The two of you silently agree that maybe he should ask for favors more often.

#dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken fanfic #dreamwastaken angst #dream x reader #dream x you #dreamwastaken x y/n

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Hoist the Colours - 1/3

Pairing: Pirate!Bucky X SeaGoddess!Reader

Summary: Bound to your human form and cut off from the sea, your life is exchanged from pirate to pirate, until a ship of the King intercepts a sale, taking you onboard and saving you from a fate worse than death.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Fluff, Kinda slow burn

Word Count: 2.2K

A/n: I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for so long so I figured meh, what the hell. It’s mega inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End cause Calypso owns my uwu and I love the story of her and Davy Jones. Um, I hope you enjoy!

~*~

His hands gently caress your skin, gentle with you, a stark contrast to the man who rules the seas. He treats you as if you're delicate, though he knows you're not.

His touches are so, so tender.

"I love you, my (Y/n)."

Fingers skimming over your back, trailing over your spine and down your legs. His hold on your body is soft, while the hold on your heart is strong.

"I love you, James. My love for you will never die. You hold my heart in your hands." He holds the back of your head with one hand, tilting you back a bit so he can look into your eyes, crystal blue depths pouring out emotions while saying few words.

"You have my heart, and you shall continue to have it until the day I die."

“Are we ready to set sail, Captain?” The young man looks up through his lashes, squinting against the harsh sun and the spray of the sea.

“Aye, I think we’re ready. What say you, James?” The blond man looks to his first mate, who stands by the edge of the ship, staring out across the open water with a small smile on his face.

“The wind will be with us today. Our journey will be bountiful. There’s a change in the tide, a new dawn on the horizon.” Steve grabs his friend’s shoulder, looking into his eyes.

“I can feel her, Steve. We’re getting close. I know it.” The blond smiles and looks over to the boy, nodding once.

“All hands, prepare to make sail!” He shouts, running down the stairs to alert the rest of the crew.

Steve walks over to his helmsman, patting him on the shoulder.

“Where to today, Captain?” Sam asks with a grin.

“We head for Tortuga,” he says, glancing over at James. The brunet nods, eyes focused on the sea.

~*~

“All hands! Battle Stations!”

You shift to your knees on the hard wooden bed, looking out through the tiny porthole.

“What is it?” Wanda asks, her voice scratchy and hoarse.

“The Royal Navy,” you whisper, bound hands grabbing handfuls of your dress to move it out of the way, allowing you to sit more comfortably to watch as the three ships converge on the one you’re currently imprisoned upon.

“What will they make of us?” She wonders aloud, fingers spinning dainty red circles in the air. You bite your lip, knowing too well what they’ll make of you.

“Our chances of survival are higher with them than with our current captors.” She shrugs, lying back down as cannons boom overhead.

You close your eyes, exhaling deeply through your nose and conjuring what you can.

It’s effective, and the sky is soon booming with thunder. The ocean tugs and turns, waves crashing against the ship, the fighting getting drowned by the rain.

You hear the tell-tale thuds of the ship being boarded, and you know it’s only a matter of time before you’re transferred from one cage to another. But you hope that the new cage will be slightly more comfortable.

Two sets of feet clomp down the stairs and you and Wanda both sit up.

A man wearing the signature red and gold of the King walks towards you.

A young boy, easily no older than sixteen, stumbles after him.

“Boy!” He shouts, turning to him. He cowers, clearly not wanting to get hurt.

“Why are these women in chains?” He demands. The boy looks at you, his eyes widening for a moment before he swallows hard.

“C-cap’n says that they be witches. He locked ‘em down here to protect the crew. Said it bad luck to bed them.” The King’s man stares at you then at Wanda.

“Witches? How?” The boy’s fingers tremble as he points to Wanda.

“Th-that one there, she be a true witch. With red flames and a sixth sense. She can control men to do her bidding. Cap’n locked ‘er up with them special chains, keeps her powers at bay.” Wanda’s eyes glow a fiery red as she’s reminded of the mistreatment the Captain has shown the two of you.

“And this one here?” The man steps closer to your cell door, eyeing you closely.

“She be of godly descent. Power over the wind and tide, no doubt the conjurer of the storm. She be tied to the ocean and the ocean to her. She controls the monsters, the demons that lurk in the deep. Cap’n treated her better than any woman deserves, but he stopped, got lazy. And this is her punishin’ us for it. You mark my words. She created that storm.”

The man cocks his head to the side in curiosity.

“Bring them over. The boy too. The King will want to hear about this.” The boy quickly unlocks your cells, and then you’re being ushered up the stairs and above deck.

The sky, which was dark and dangerous nought five minutes ago, is clear and blue. Dead bodies lay askew on the deck, blood staining the wood.

The men of the King stop and stare as you and Wanda are ushered towards the gangplank.

A man whistles, his hand coming to your shoulder, and you wrench yourself out of his grip, levelling him with a hard glare as a boom of thunder explodes overhead, a crack of lightning touching down on the water beside the ship.

Everyone is silent, the Captain staring at you in wonder and awe.

“No one is to touch the women,” he announces loudly, making sure all his crew can hear.

“They are to be treated with the utmost respect. Do not touch them. Do not even look at them in the wrong way, understand?”

He’s met with a series of “aye captain”s.

You square your shoulders and cross the plank, Wanda right behind you.

The two of you are then promptly led to a small office.

“The Captain will be with you shortly,” the man says, closing the doors and standing outside, his back to you. You glance at your friend and nod slightly, a silent ‘I told you so’. She rolls her eyes and looks around the room.

“He means to bring us to the King. We will no doubt be exploited for our powers yet again. There is no way we win this.” You shake your head, eyes finding a paper on his desk.

Anthony Edward Stark.

The name rings a bell, but before you can put your finger on it, the door is opening and the Captain walks in.

“As I’m sure you’ve guessed, I’m the Captain. Tony is what my friends call me. I suppose you may call me that as well. So... witches. Do you have names?” You’re shocked, and it’s obvious on your face by the way that the man laughs.

“We’re not barbaric. It’s obvious to me that you were being held captive on the HYDRA ship. You may as well get comfortable here with me.” Wanda stays standing by the door, but you approach him.

“I am (Y/n). This is Wanda. What do you plan on doing with us?” He sighs heavily and sits down at his desk, pouring himself a glass of alcohol.

“I plan on continuing my route as I was supposed to. We’re to make port in Tortuga for some business, then we head back to England.” You furrow your brows.

“Why not take us back to England now?” Wanda asks, her eyes red with suspicion.

“Because anytime away from the King is time I cherish. And I think the two of you will make excellent company.” He smiles, winking at you.

The glass in his hand shatters and he curses, jumping up and away from his desk.

“Not that kind of company! Jesus! I just meant that I would like to learn more about your powers.” You look over at Wanda, whose glowing eyes are trained on Tony.

“And how do we know you won’t treat us the same way they all did?” She asks, her voice a venomous whisper.

He sighs and looks at the two of you for a moment, his eyes lingering on your necklace.

“Because. My mother was like you two. A sea witch, born with powers unparalleled. And I saw what men did to her for it. I will not let that happen to you as well.” The two of you are surprised at his words. Silence hangs heavy in the air for a moment before he clears his throat.

“I’ll see to it that the two of you have proper quarters, as well as changes of clothes. And I humbly welcome you to His Majesty, the King’s, esteemed ship: The Avenger.”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve whispers, taking off his hat in respect as they approach the wreckage in the water.

Sharks are circling, picking at any scraps of human flesh that they can find. Ship splinters and rope pollute the water, and the crew instantly know that this is the work of the King’s men.

“A quick fight,” James says, watching from the quarterdeck. Steve nods, curious about the events that transpired.

“Man overboard!” Someone shouts, and all eyes are searching for the body in question.

They see the subtle splashing, the man’s body mostly on a large piece of wood from the mast.

“Haul him up!” Steve shouts, hurrying to the spot to make sure the man’s okay.

When they finally get him over, he’s nothing but coughs and water, fingers trembling as he regains his bearings.

“What’s your name?” Steve asks, patting the young man on the shoulder.

When he finally looks up, everyone gasps. “It was the witch,” he whispers, blackened eyes darting around in fear.

“Witch?” Steve asks. This piques Bucky’s interest.

“Sh-she called the storm. Dragged the ship down down down, and now she goes on the celebrate with the King.” Bucky pushes forward, grabbing the man by the collar.

“The witch, what was her name?” The man shakes his head, eyes lolling to the side.

“Never name, only a witch. Never trust a woman... she be beautiful as a sunrise but deadly as a snake. I’d rather face a siren than that witch again. She owns the seas, is one with the winds, and she has a hatred in her heart for men.” The man stops to cough up water, his eyes rolling back as he starts convulsing.

Bucky stumbles back a step, his heart pounding in his head.

“Buck?” He shakes his head, climbing up the ladder on the mainmast to the crow’s nest. His eyes strain to see anything, any sign of where he should go.

What he sees leaves him feeling more hopeless than before.

Three of the king’s ships, on the very edge of the horizon, each going in separate directions.

He takes a deep breath in then climbs back down, furious with himself all over again.

“Buck? What the hell was that?” Steve demands, grabbing his best friend’s arm.

“It’s her, Steve.” Those three words are all it takes for Steve to understand.

“Which way did she go?” He asks softly, trying to help his friend.

“I’ve got no clue. There were three ships, all heading in different directions. There’s no way to know which ship has her, and we can’t very well follow all of them.” Steve sighs, patting his friend on the shoulder.

“We’ll find her. I swear. But until then we maintain course.” The brunet nods, eyes finding the wreckage in the water and praying to the gods that he finds you soon.

Tears wet your cheeks as you stare at the locket, fingers stroking the cool metal gently.

“If the memories pain you so, why conjure them so frequently?” You glance over at the brunette, wiping the wetness off of your face.

“Without the pain, I would forget my hatred. I would forget my purpose and I would lose hope.” Wanda nods thoughtfully, leaning back against the wall and sighing.

The quarters you were given are lovely. Soft beds, plenty of blankets, and a door with a lock. It’s all you could ask for and more from a ship belonging to the king.

“What do you suppose he’s going to do with us?” Wanda asks, fingers spinning a quill in the air above her head.

“I’m not sure quite yet. He seems to be genuine, but I fear he has ulterior motives. Surely, he’ll bring us to the king at some point. But until then... I only hope we fair better here than our last ship.” She nods, closing her eyes and lowering her hands, the quill dropping to the floor beside her as she spreads her fingers, red seeping out of her hands and down through the floorboards.

“There’s a change in the tide,” she whispers, her eyes opening and glowing red as she glances over at you. “Can you feel it?” You close your eyes, feeling the pull of the ocean deep in your gut.

“I feel it,” you whisper, “a change in the wind. A new presence is upon the waters, a dark one. I fear they are stronger than they seem.”

#pirate AU #pirate!bucky #pirate!bucky x reader #pirate!bucky barnes #pirate!Bucky Barnes x reader #Pirate!bucky x sea goddess!reader #bucky x goddess!reader #bucky x sea!goddess!reader #pirate!bucky x goddess!reader #pirate!bucky x seagoddess!reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x reader slow burn

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sugurizz · 3 years

Text

The house is yours

Pairing : Zeke yeager x reader

Rating : explicit

Word count : 2,5k words

Summary : as a broke student, finding an apartment is not easy. But the cute owner decides to help you with it, in a way that you both get to benefit.

Warnings : soft dom! Zeke x sub!fem! reader, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, nipple play, slight spit play, vaginal sex, slight breeding kink, daddy kink

(Credits to the owner. I don't own the fanart)

After months of looking through ads, websites and even newspapers. finding a decent, comfortable and cosy appartment near the university was a dream coming true. After calling the owner and fixing a date to meet toghether and check the place, your roommate wasn't able to make it to the appointment so you had to go there on my own.

Being already anxious for the meeting, you put a pair of black jeans, a grey t-shirt, a hoodie and your white sneakers before taking your backbag and going there.

After ten minutes or so, you were at the spot you agreed to meet at. You couldn't see anyone particular so you got your phone out of your pocket, ready to call the owner again in order to spot him.

It was then when you saw a tall, broad and handsome man- probably in his late twenties- picking his ringing phone from the pocket of his elegant beige trench coat.

A black turtleneck hugging his visibly muscular chest and arms left your mouth nearly open. That's definitely him - you thought to yourself - feeling your face already heating up, you swallowed hardly, prayed that you weren't really blushing, took your courage and crossed the road walking towards the little coffee shop he was standing next to.

Standing directly in front of him didn't help at all. You were so overwehlmed by him. and to be frank, you didn't really know where to look. His whole presence was doing things to you, is it His charming glance? his icy grey eyes, ornamented with a set of thick blonde lashes shinig softly in the feeble sunlight? Or is it those silky soft blonde locks, joined in a nice haircut making his enchanting appearence even more perfect and complete?

"Hello, I assume you're the new renter. Very nice to meet you. I'm zeke yeager ."

"Likewise, pleased to meet you mr yeager. I'm y/n ".

You tried your best to keep calm and professional by greeting him. But the trembling handshake you gave him was showing the complete opposite.

"Shall we go see the appartment ? This way please."

Were you too infatuated by such grace? Or is he really such a sweet, soft and courteous gentleman? You couldn't really tell.

You took a quick glance at his gorgeous profile side. And you completely wished you could take a screenshot with your eyes. His prominent cheekbones added to his manly features. And his fine silver glasses gave him that elegant intellectual aura.

The silence was broken by a deep, gentle :" so.. you're both students.. right?"

" yes. good thing the house is around 10 minutes from the university. That should save us plenty of time ."

" glad to hear that, I actually studied there for more than 6 years, that was before I finally graduated and decided to move to (city name) ."

" I see. May I ask.. why did you move? " you demanded.

" haha don't worry. It hasn't to do with the apartment. It's just that.. You can say I'm an adventurous man." He answered with a bright smile.

" right. I guess it's always tempting to move and see something new..."

You never thought a conversation with a total stranger could be this smooth, warm and relaxing. It unexpectedly didn't feel like a forced out, awkward smalltalk at all. But more like a nice and slow getting to know each other.

"We're finally here." He opened the building's door, Letting you inside and pressed the elevator button.

" I see you like the place already.." He affirmed, a soft smile graced his features, leaving you bewitched.

"Y-yes .. it's pretty welcoming." You added.

Getting out of the elevator, the cute owner took the apartement keys out, opening the door and letting you in.

After checking all the house's functionalities and facilities and discussing the period of your rent. You were ready to pay the first month of the stay until you got surprised by the deposit price. You were so shocked that you had to pay around two thousand five hundrend dollars along with the actual rent.

" I'm not sure we can actually afford that.. " I said, feeling somehow disappointed and lost.

" I know, a lot of people complain about the deposit price. I wish I could make an exeption but the price is fixed by the building's owner. He has the majority of control over that."

" and.. I guess it can't be payed in installments. can it ?"

" i'm afraid not." He retorted, quite concerned by your defeated aura.

" that's really infortunate. I was looking forward to settle here. But anyway, it was good getting to know you mr Yeager."

Hiding your frustration, you were ready to leave when his calm, reassuring voice stopped you . " maybe , we can help each other out after all..."

You turned back, looking for a further explanation when he carried on :" I can get to pay the deposit for you. And you'll have to give me a service in return.."

"okay.. and the service is ...? " you asked, being both curious and excited.

The blonde walked to the door and locked it, his silver eyes never leaving yours.

"Mr yeager..."

" Oh can we stop with the formalities now little one. If we finally agree to make a deal we should get more familiar to each other. Shouldn't we ?" He let out in a deep virile voice, causing your heart to throb numerous times.

Walking closer towards you, he stood and leaned over, whispering in your ear : " If I said I'm feeling sad and lonely today, Would you agree to entertain me ?"

He was so close you could barely register his request. Close enough to notice his irises fixed on yours, staring at your soul and then travelling a little downwards, presumably staring at your lips. You were ready to explode when his big hand landed on your chin, long slender fingers carressing it and driving you so crazy you started babbling some nearly inaudible nonsense.

" i mean.. I.I could ... I don't know.. I-"

" shh, no need to get confused, I'm here with you". a calloused thumb landed on your lips, caressing them with a gentle yet insisting motion.

Your mind shut down, leaving you comptelely blank. God, you got lost in his eyes again. You kept staring like an idiot, letting his thumb make its way through your lips and next thing you knew you were feeling his finger on your sensitive tongue. You never did this before. But why did it feel so natural with him ? Why didn't you resist at all ? How did you agree to this ? Questions kept bringing on other questions inside your crushed mind. The betraying heat kept rising to your cheeks by the minute, and you couldn't control your intense breathing anymore.

You felt like a fragile leaf caught in a storm. Your consciousness stopped reacting when his face started closing up to yours.

" I believe we got ourselves a deal then? "

" i.. I mean-"

The blonde's delicious lips crushed on yours in a swift motion, his huge hands left to pull you closer pushing you against his large warm chest and making you feel so small and helpless.

It didn't take long for you to feel his soft warm tongue playing with yours. His refreshing minty breath was mixed with a faint hint of cigarette. You couldn't help but enlace your arms around his neck, trying to regain some balance. The sloppy wet kiss you shared ended with your mouths parting in a wet noise, a glistening string of saliva connecting his dark red tongue to yours, Leaving you breathless.

"You're rather shy and blushy princess... I like it." Zeke leaned close to your sensitive neck, started peppering kisses from your cheeks down your neck and all around your clavicle . His warm breath on your exposed chest made you shiver, feeling your wetness already pooling between your legs. You started rubbing your thighs toghether in a search for some relief. The sudden thought of the rent crossed your mind again.

" Zeke .."

" yes sweetheart, say my name "

" what about the rent ... what should I do now ?"

"little pumpkin is still afraid." You trembled when he leaned over to lick your earlobe before carrying " consider this house yours, princess " .

You couldn't hide your relief after hearing his words. You looked back at him, the perfect pale skin of his cheeks turned into a lovely shade of pink. His cute ears were so red you thought they were about to blow off. His glasses were threatening to fall off the cute tip of his sharp nose. And you felt so proud seeing the mess you left at his golden strands. Some of them falling sexily on his eyes.

" I need this off" he tugged at your shirt , raising your arms gently and sliding it up your shivering body. It was so embarrassing you instantly hid your face. Letting out some insatisfied whines.

"gorgeous" he lets out, eyes contemplating your breasts, still hidden behind your bra. Still closing your eyes, you felt yourself being lifted in a bridal style. Zeke's strong arms placed you on the comfy couch of the living room. He stood up and took of his coat, throwing it away. His black pullover was next, revealing his toned chest, shredded abs and prominent V line . You wished you could keep this addictive view in yout mind forever. His godly body hovered around you like a shield. You leaned back , staring at the enchanting male before you, unbuckling his belt.

You were probabely too distracted by his beauty to notice the huge tent that was forming in his pants. His hand reached beneath his boxers, freeing his massive cock from it's confinements.

" like what you see ?" He winked at you, leaving you speaking gibberish again.

" zeke...it- it's not gonna .."

He cut you out, taking off your jeans in a quick move, leaving you in your black laced panties. " already soaked aren't we? What kind of a slut gets her pussy that wet just from a damn kiss?"

He rubbed his fingers against your clothed cunt before swiping your panties to the side. your clit was swollen and flushed, desperate for attention. The handsome male leaned until he faced your pussy. He spread your legs even wider, adding to your growing embarassment.

" goshh, look at how much slick is between your pussy lips,..filthy.." he slid his fingers between them.

Never leaving your innocent eyes, he puckered his lips, opened his mouth and spat on your naked pussy. You nearly passed out when he started french kissing it. Looking at it with such hunger and lust, he slid his longue tongue in your fluttering hole, driving his index and middle fingers in the process. His thick and now wet beard felt so good stinging your plush thighs.

" zeke ahhh, wait... omg zeke it feels.. Ahhhh " your moans started getting louder and louder.

"Whine for me baby.."

His experienced fingers massaged your spongey insides, hitting spots you never knew your pussy had. You were drooling like a dumb baby, eyes rolling to the back of your head and breath hitching in your breast.

"Zeeeeke.. uh- i'm ahh i'm gonna cum, it feels so good... so good i'm cumming .."

"Yes baby, cream on my fucking tongue."

It wasn't long until you released all over his hand, his tongue was painted with cum. He shamelessly swallowed it, licking his fingers passionately as if he was tasting an elixir. He leaned to kiss you again, cum and drool still running down his messy beard. Its cute hairs tickling your cheeks and chin made you chuckle.

He took your dripping panties away, threw them somewhere across the room and slid his hands below your back, unclasping your bra.

" I need to take it off, but I really do like the cute ribbons though..." he complimented your cute bra.

" t-thank youu.." the shyness creeped inside you again. But it was replaced with surprise when he buried his head deep between your breasts like a starving baby. growling and grunting, the vibrations sent shivers down your spine. He kept lapping at them, looking at you with burning lust, taking a nipple between his teeth and flicking the other under his fingerpads.

"Are you ready, sweet pie? Wanna take my cock for me ?"

"Y-yes"

"Yes who ?"

"Yes daddy ."

"It's daddy from now on, little one"

Feeling yourself , yu bent over for him, giving him a perfect view of your bare cunt.

" hurry daddy, I can't wait anymore..."

"As you wish, princess"

Within seconds, you felt his hands settling on your hips, his firm cock sliding slowly past your hungry hole.

" it hurtss, daddy .. it hurts..."

" shh, it's ok princess, you're too tense.. relax for daddy.."

The pain suddenly turned into a pure bliss as he bottomed down, making you moan his name like a lullaby.

"I'm going to move baby.." he said, cupping your cheek in his soft palms.

His cock was ramming inside you so deliciously you felt your drool dribbling again, his strong silhouette leaning on you, hugging you with one arm and caressing your stomach with the other. Seeing his bulge through your tummy, you felt so full and loved by him.

" look baby, look how deep i'm inside you"

" please cum inside me daddy, I want it pumping in my stomach ."

your words sent him to the edge; hitched breath, loud growls and harsh slaps landing on your ass. It felt so good your tears started gushing along your face.

" hnnghhh wanna take ... fuck ahhh .. take daddy's seed inside you ? Tell me slut " he squeezed your face between his large fingers, earning a whine from you.

" mmhmmm ... ahhhh"

" use your words when you talk to me"

" I want your cum deep inside me, daddy"

His thrusts became hysteric, making you shake. both of you moaning loudly, not caring about anybody hearing.

"Ahhhnghhh shiiiit , fuck yeaaah" the golden daddy came in thick white strings inside you. Shoving it all up your womb. You give up, letting your orgasm wash over you in a shameless moan. All your juices mixed with his sticky huge load, starting to spill from your greedy cunt.

Unable to move anymore, you collapsed on the couch. Trembling and breathing heavily. Zeke doing the same, he went to catch his neglected coat and wrapped it around your naked body, along with his strong arms around you, nuzzling his head in your neck.

" I guess having an expensive rent has its perks after all". He teased, laying a soft gentle kiss on your forehead.

" yup, you get to have a daddy for free". You whispered.

Note : I would really appreciate the feedback on my work so feel free to comment down.

#zeke yeager #zeke jäger #zeke jeager #zeke jeager x reader #zeke yeager smut #zeke yeager x reader #zeke yeager imagine #zeke thirst #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #aot smut #fics #snk #zeke x reader #icymi

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universalistotalis · 3 years

Text

You fool

Gojo Satoru x Fem reader

Angst

1.7k words

Masterlist!!!

“Do you Y/n, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?” Your eyes glowed as you looked at the love your life standing in front of you. This feeling of elation was something you never thought of experiencing in the past but here you are, fueled by passion and love for the person made for you.

“I do.” Your voice echoed in the venue.

Gojo Satoru’s dazzling eyes burned on your form as he too was fueled with the same passion and love for only you. The both of you had been through so much together. And as his sight was fixated with the image of your eyes, he can’t help but have a trip down to memory lane.

La la la la

La la la la la la ~

Gojo’s voice echoed the halls playfully as you walked down the makeshift aisle lined with a red carpet in one of the hotels you both went to. The sides were designed with white and pastel colors of cloth, dotted with pink roses and yellow daisies. No one was around the marriage booth exhibit so the both of you, being the wacky couple that you were, barged in and played pretend.

Although this wasn’t pretend for Gojo. He may be smiling as if he was about to share a joke but his heart was beating like crazy while he’s looking at you, walking to him, who’s standing in front of the printed altar. He was singing the Bridal Chorus but stopped as you made your way in front of him.

“You’re so damn beautiful, babe.” He whispered as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

He was delighted as you blushed dangerously at his words. After all these years, you were still affected by his charms.

“Y-you’re not bad yourself.” You stuttered.

He laughed loudly at how cute you were being. It amazed him at how comfortable you were in his presence now. In the past, you could barely look at him in the eye, let alone talk to him... but now look at you!

Your chuckles mixed with his in the silence. After catching your breath, your eyes scanned the vicinity before pulling one of his hands. “C’mon, Satoru. We have to go.”

You expected him to agree and walk away with you to another place but he held his place, a foreign smile formed on his lips. It was not the playful smirk you were so accustomed to seeing, but it was so sincere, so full of love that you stared at it for a while. His hands removed the blindfold that covered his eyes and you silently gasped at the sparkles in them as the light illuminated the magnificent pale blue orbs. Then, he encased your hands in his before he took a deep breath and said…

“I love you. I thank all the gods everyday because out of the billions of people they built, they led me to you. I’m so glad I found you.”

“I mean you have six eyes so…” You snorted, even though you felt electrifying tingles from your head all the way to the tips of your toes.

He laughed again and hissed. “Stop ruining the moment!”

“Okay, okay. Continue, my lord.” You bowed respectfully, playfully.

He chuckled once more and hooked your chin on his fingers. “This. The way you make me laugh, the way you make me this happy, it’s enough… more than enough for me to stay and fight for you. Sometimes I wonder if it ever is legal for someone to be so perfect. You understand all parts of myself that I don't even notice. When you look at me, you don’t see that all powerful being everyone is talking about. You see me… the real me.”

A sigh escaped his lips, his eyes gloss over his thoughts. “I can never let them take you away from me. They’ve taken so much already and I am not going to just stand here and lose you.”

“Satoru—“

You suddenly felt a pang in your chest and the rapid fatigue overcome your body. After all the fun and games, you two were still in hiding. Hiding from the world, hiding from his family, both of which would never see you as a worthy match for the most powerful sorcerer of all time. He was destined for someone greater, someone better, someone of another godly descent! They didn’t care if she wasn’t born yet or was still wandering the streets of the world, clueless of his existence, but they are sure as hell that it wouldn’t and can’t be someone like you. Over their dead bodies!

Sometimes you believed them. You let their words and judgments cloud your mind but before they can take over, his voice guides you out.

His grip tightened on your fingers, eyes finding yours and holding your gaze. “I will not lose you. You’re the only right thing in my world and I intend to keep you with me for as long as I shall live. You showed me the love I never thought I deserved. You showed me immense kindness that I never thought someone could possess. You made me believe in the good. You gave me a reason to live everyday with a purpose in my head. You keep me sane. Alive. Free.”

“Oh Satoru.” You smiled through your tears at his revelation.

“I’d choose to spend all my infinities with you. No pun intended.” He joked, even when there were tears brimming in his eyes.

“I’d gladly spend them with you too.” You whispered, marveling at the warmth of his hands, wiping the tears away, erasing all the pain of the past, of the judgments and hurt…

“Stay with me.” He whispered back but you hear the tone of desperation in his voice. He was no fool. He could see you cracking at all the comments of his family and strangers alike. He would always thank you for being strong and for holding on…

You sighed as his lips found yours. Warmth coursed through your veins as you felt his soft breath brush your face. This is what home felt like. Suddenly, his tongue darted out to lick your bottom lip, asking you to give him entrance to the warm interior. And you did. It was a desperate kiss of tongue and teeth clashing, of heavy breaths and tight grips. There were no inhibitions, no doubts. You both were so in love with each other, refusing to let one another go, refusing to leave each other’s sides…

But eventually, both of you faded. There were trying times, too much of trying times actually… and you two are but victims to emotions, and it came to a point where love just wasn’t enough. So you let each other go, breathe, and fly away.

“You may now kiss the bride.” The pastor announced.

Gojo had to look away from the sight of you landing your lips on another, other than his. He thought he was going to be alright when the both of you agreed to go on separate ways. He reasoned that you both needed to grow in your respective fields, to grow as a person. He deluded himself that you could only do this when you both were away from each other. And maybe after, you can both come back to each other's arms but he knew that was too much to ask.

He was the one who kept asking you to shun out the harsh words from everybody even though he knew how much pain you had to endure. Now, he can’t help but feel guilty as he was the one who got swallowed up by those judgments until it ate him whole. It was supposed to be you and him against the world but he turned against you too.

The pain in your eyes were unbearable when he said his goodbyes. What happened to his speeches about making you stay with him? What happened to his promise of protecting you from all the barriers that separated you from one another? What happened to his love for you?

“Gojo sensei.” Megumi called while patted his back. “Are you alright?”

Gojo pushed his dark- rimmed glasses to the bridge of his nose while displaying a playful smirk. “Of course! I’m so happy for her! Look at them! Such a lovely couple!”

His blood boiled at the sight of you. He preferred to be battling cursed spirits than to be in this damned wedding. But he had to see you. He had to see if you were alright. He had to see that you were truly happy without him.

“That should have been me, Megumi.” He whispered to the man beside him.

“You’re crazy, sensei.” Megumi scoffed.

He chuckled. “No, no, I’m serious! I was supposed to propose to her that day! Can you believe it?!"

“Sensei—“

“This ring…” Gojo’s fingers reached for his pocket where he fetched a dazzling, silver, and diamond band with both your names engraved in it. “...is supposed to be resting on her finger, not that trashy one the other bastard got her.”

He sighed. “I never knew why I postponed though. Live in the moment, my ass! I'll do it next time, my ass! I'll make it the grandest, my ass! Look where she is now!"

"Hush!" Megumi's hands flew to his babbling mouth that was shouting all of his regrets.

Gojo's body deflated at the millions of ways he could have done the proposal right even when it's now useless to think of. "Maybe I took her presence for granted. Maybe I thought that she would always be there. Maybe I thought she would never leave. Maybe I thought that she would want to spend all her infinities with me.” His voice faltered at the end as he heard your voice saying the same words.

His eyes closed shut, remembering the promises you made to each other. “She meant it though when she said that. And when she said she loved me. She was so ready to be with me, so ready to fight for me. I’m the fool for letting her go.”

Megumi’s eyes filled with concern for his teacher, much like an older brother. He has never seen him at this state, all weak to the knees.

“Say, Megumi- chan.” Gojo’s lopsided smirk appeared again but everybody knows he’s not in the mood for any jokes.

“Yeah?”

“Does she look genuinely happy?” He asked, staring into the void.

Megumi’s eyes trailed from Gojo to you, who was smiling dearly at your beloved husband as you shared a dance in this reception. Your eyes were visibly twinkling under the lights and you looked like you can’t see anybody but the person in front of you.

“Yes, she does.” He replied.

“Then, let’s go.” He smiled sadly before sighing defeatedly. The ring was again tucked in his pockets, hidden, never to be seen by you, worn by you, cherished by you.

As he walked out of the doors, he took one last glance at the love of his life.

“If I could, I’d carve all the roads of infinity to lead you back to me. Maybe by then, I could have a chance with you again. I love you, I always will.”

His footsteps led him away from the venue. Away from you. But his heart stayed in your presence and his mind repeated the same thing over and over again.

Gojo Satoru, you fool.

---

Just painted Gojo Satoru and my head was like, "Why not write angst about this guy?" Lol

I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Hope you're all okay!

Reblogs are appreciated! <3

Masterlist!!! Read more here hihihi

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mayclair · 2 years

Note

percabeth + prompt 99 pls pls pls

this sort of spiraled out of control fjdjkfhkjdf oops

The sun rises as she closes her eyes for the last time.

Percy thinks it’s the most unfair thing in the world—being forced to watch her struggle to hang on to life, blood dripping from under the knife wound her hands, under both their hands, as they try to stop the bleeding. Seeing her slowly slip away in each passing second, like a thread unraveling between his fingers until there’s nothing left to hold on to.

It’s the beginning of a new day, and the end of her life.

Every ending has a new beginning, she’d quoted to him just a few hours ago, when they were getting ready for battle at the Plaza hotel. Marianne Williamson. It was a poor attempt at making him feel better about the whole dying thing—she’s never been the best with her words, and honestly, neither has he—but it got him thinking. That if he sacrificed himself, he’d be building a new future, a better life, for thousands of other demigods. He almost laughs at the irony.

He stares down at her lifeless body. Brushes a blonde curl out of her sweat ridden forehead gently, as if he’s afraid he’s going to wake her if he lingers too long. Her face is white, and she looks like one of those porcelain figures he’s seen at the pawn shops near his apartment. Her lips quirk upward slightly to form a small smile, and for a second, he thinks she looks peaceful—happy, even—for the first time in months. The thought makes him feel even worse.

Dimly, he registers footsteps pounding on the marble floor behind him as Thalia enters the throne room. She appears in front of him, stares at the body in his arms, and covers her mouth with her hands. A loud, guttural scream rips from her throat and she’s crying, tears streaming down her cheeks as she sinks to her knees, whispering nonopleasenopleasewakeupplease desperately. It’s not enough to drown out the blood pounding in his head, the small voice whispering in his ear.

It should’ve been you.

There’s a hand he recognizes as Grover’s on his shoulder, squeezing it gently, reassuringly, reminding him that they’re alive, they’re okay, that Luke is dead and Kronos is gone and neither of them will be able to harm anyone ever again.

None of that matters, he wants to scream, because she’ll never be able to see the future she so desperately wanted.

He stands up. Stumbles a little, but Grover’s grip on his shoulder is tight and steadies him. By some miracle, he’s able to stand up without his legs turning to jello, and Grover lets go of him. He holds out a hand to Thalia, who still has silent tears making their way across her face. After a moment’s contemplation, she wipes her eyes and takes it.

Percy glances back once, at the three bodies on the floor. A child of Hermes, a child of Nemesis, and a child of Athena. They look so out of place there—in the middle of the large room, godly thrones towering over them. This is how it’s always been, he realizes; demigods, sacrificing themselves over and over again, for the gods, fighting their battles for them, working towards what they think is a better future—but what is the point of fighting for a better future if history keeps repeating itself?

Grover finds him inside the cabin.

He’s sitting on the floor just like a few days ago, except he’s clean—on the outside, that is. There’s still blood on his hands, on his clothes, all over him. Blood of the hundreds, maybe thousands of people who've died so that he’d live. Her blood, never to be washed away, because it simply cannot.

Her camp necklace is clutched in his hands. He runs a thumb over the eight beads, staring, transfixed, on the drawings on them, but looks up when he hears Grover enter. Tries to control whatever maelstrom of emotions he’s feeling right now so Grover won’t be able to pick up on them through their empathy link and shoots him a tired smile.

“Hi,” Grover says carefully. Sits across him, and suddenly they’re twelve again, playing rock paper scissors on the classroom floor while waiting for break to end. “How’re you feeling?”

“M’alright,” he lies.

Grover stares at him, unconvinced. “Nobody expects you to be, y’know.”

He doesn’t get an answer.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a while. “About Annabeth, I mean.”

Percy almost flinches at the use of her name. The last time he heard it, it came from his own lips, screaming as Luke’s knife went through her armor and into flesh. No one’s said it since then—at least, not around him. He swallows, struggling to keep his expression level, fingers twisting in the hem of his shirt nervously.

“Not your fault,” his voice cracks a little, and he clears his throat, shrugging. “Besides, it could’ve been worse. We could’ve been in love.”

There’s a beat, then, “You loved her.”

It’s not a question.

“I…” Percy falters. He and Annabeth put themselves through the kind of reckless passions he thought only existed in stories—joy and jealousy, desire and despair, happiness and hatred. He honestly can’t remember how it felt like to be around her without it hurting a little, without them toeing the line between friendship and something more, pushing it back and forward until one of them broke. And when she kissed him… sometimes he wonders if he had done something different after, would everything be different? Would they still be where they are today?

“I don’t know. Maybe. Possibly,” he says softly. “Yes. No. Fuck. I mean, we’re sixteen, G. And yeah, the way I felt with her was definitely different from what I’ve ever felt before, but I just… I don’t know,” he blows out a breath. “I think I did, though. Do, not did.”

Grover's quiet for a while, and Percy can hear the thoughts racing around his brain, trying to make sense of the reality that was their life. He sighs. “Okay.” He notices the look on Percy’s face and nudges his foot. “Anything else you wanna say?”

Yes. “No.”

“You sure?”

Percy nods. “Yeah. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“I always do, Perce,” Grover says, a little sadly. He stands up to leave. Percy doesn’t meet his eyes. “Take care of yourself, okay? Don’t forget to eat. Or drink. Or sleep. I’ll be back soon.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” Grover smiles at him as he moves to walk out the door. “Go to sleep. For me.”

That actually makes him smile. “That doesn't work with you!” he calls out.

Grover laughs and shuts the door, leaving Percy by himself in complete darkness.

#percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percy x annabeth #pjo #fic #my writing #asks 💌#drewlover

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phenomenal1500 · 2 years

Text

Under The Influence | Erik Killmonger

Chapter 7: ~International Outreach Centre~

For Chapter 6: ~Stop Ignoring The Question~ click here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a few more seconds, they unfortunately had to pull away to catch their breath and both panting, they looked at each other. Both with red cheeks because of the lack of air, chest going up and down heavily and their pupils dilated as they rested their foreheads against each other. "Does this mean~...."

"It means whatever you want it to mean, princess."

~~~

"Can we take it slow though?" She played with his dreads, twisting a few around her fingers and he replied with a nod. "Thank you." She smiled.

"You're welcome, princess." He glanced at her lips with a smirk and wrapped his hands around the back of her thighs to lift her up. "Let's get you to bed now, we're leaving early in the morning."

"Leaving early? I thought I was free." She teased and held onto his shoulders not to fall backwards while he got up. She still felt a little awkward after everything, but she decided to just trust him with this since it looked like he had the right answers for everything. It was hopefully all going to be fine.

"Yeah." He licked his lips and carried her inside his room, closing the balcony door behind him. "You are and so we're going to make a trip to Oakland."

"Oakland?" She let go of him once he laid her down onto his bed and she climbed underneath his sheets. "What are we going to do there?"

"You'll see.... just go to sleep, ma." He gave her a small smile and wanted to turn around if it wasn't for the woman to grab his wrist, raising her brow, but yet not daring to ask her question. Not that she had to ask it.... he already knew what she wanted and lifted the sheets so he could join her. His strong arms wrapped around her waist again after he laid down and she closed her eyes. She still couldn't believe she was doing this. Being this close to her king. If the Elders saw this scene, she probably wouldn't be worthy of her title anymore, they would've felt betrayed that she chose him as king above T'Challa, but they weren't there and she didn't care. Her heart had already betrayed her.

The next morning, the woman woke up in a cold and empty bed. The warm body had vanished, but his cologne still lingered around her and she rubbed her eyes to look around. To her surprise it was still dark outside and checking her watch it said 04:50. He wasn't seriously going to pull her out of his godly bed around this time? Not when she was free. Looking around with her sleepy eyes, she watched him coming out of the bathroom with just a towel loosely wrapped around his waist and a smirk on his face.

"Slept well?" He twisted a few dreads while watching her through the mirror.

"Yeah." She sat up, pulling her cropped sweater down since it had moved up while she slept. "But I'm still tired."

"You can continue sleeping on the way there, get up." He held out his hand, the other holding onto his towel.

"Erik, please-.... 15 more minutes." She gave him puppy eyes and he grabbed some boxers and sweats to put them on in the meantime. She moved around and laid on her stomach, burying her face in his pillow to give him some privacy and perhaps get some more sleep. That was until she suddenly felt the soft sheets slide off of her and a strong hand wrapping around her wrist. 'Don't' was all she could mumble into the pillow before she was pulled off of the bed with a lot of force and ended up in his arms.

"Go take a shower and get ready, ma. No discussion possible." He growled in her ear and she groaned in annoyance. "It'll be worth it when we arrive there."

"Promise me."

"I promise, princess." He gave her a smile and brought her to his bathroom, sitting her down on his bathtub's edge. "I'll lay down some clothes for you when you're done."

"I can do that myself too." She suggested, but he shook his head.

"You can't go to Oakland in one of those fancy dresses you got. You need to have a simple, more comfy outfit to travel." He closed her bathroom door so she couldn't argue with him and went to her room after finding the key to the door. Ven was in the meantime taking off her clothes, letting her naked body lower in the hot bath that she prepared for herself and relaxing in it for the first time in months. Her head fell back against the wall, closing her eyes at the comfortable warmth. She never took a bath this long before because she never had the time for it, but now she did and she smiled to herself as she slowly started drifting off to sleep.

"You didn't fall asleep in there right?!" He knocked on her door after 20 minutes and her eyes flew open wide, shocked.

"I didn't!" She shouted back and rushed out, drying herself and covering herself up before opening the door in a hurry. "I'm sorry...."

"So you did?" He laughed a bit and handed her the pile of clean clothes. "Well, you have 30 more minutes before we leave."

"That's enough." In all honesty, it wasn't enough time for her, but she decided to leave her hair for what it was and just finish the rest first.

"Good, I'll be waiting outside." He gave her a friendly smile, his dimples deep and golden fangs visible, and he closed the door again, giving her the same privacy she had given him before. The woman quickly got dressed in some black cargo sweats and a dark green crop top, matched with a black oversized blouse and some white sneakers. She must say she liked the comfy outfit and it actually gave away her curves in a teasing and mysterious way which she really liked. She wasn't really someone to show off her figure completely because of how different she looked from other women, but she liked to tease a bit.

"Ready girl?"

"Yeah, give me a sec." She checked herself out in the mirror one last time and walked out the bathroom, seeing him checking her out instantly as well. Apparently, he agreed she looked hot in it too. "I do need to get my purse first before we leave."

"Nah, got it for you." He tossed her purse and she caught it just in time before it hit the floor. "Your reflexes are bad, ma."

"Don't judge my reflexes." She crossed her arms and chuckled a little when he laughed too. He was just so damn handsome when he laughed that she couldn't stop blushing or smiling too. Walking to the door to open it, Erik held out his hand and she took it. "You're not afraid people will see us?"

"The guards are downstairs so until we leave that elevator I don't care what we do." He pulled her along and together they walked through the hallway and into the elevator.

~~~

The streetlights were turned on in the pretty streets Ven and Erik passed in the Royal Talon Fighter and the sun completely disappeared behind the horizon after a few more hours. Ven was napping with her head on her king's lap and Erik was holding onto her while playing a simple game on his phone. Soon they would land on a basketball field in one of the less known streets in Oakland. A basketball field he had played on when he was just a kid.

Honestly, he was nervous to face his past once again, but wanted to show her his old home and discuss some matters there so he couldn't back away now.

Not when he had brought her all this way when he knew she didn't like being in public much.

Shaking her gently, Erik tried to wake her, but the only reaction she gave him back was a small groan.

"Come on, ma, wake up." He tried again and she furrowed her brows with her eyes still closed, shaking her head.

"15 more minutes." She groaned and covered her eyes with her arm.

"Not again." He laughed and lifted her head up from his lap before pulling her up. "That weekend off is already doing you some good, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess so." She rubbed her eyes and snuggled into his side sleepily. "My years of exhaustion are suddenly kicking in."

"I see it." He rubbed her side. "But we arrived, princess."

"Really?" She got up slowly and walked up to the window, staring outside in awe. She hadn't been in a different place in years so this was really something new for her. "It's gorgeous."

"Just like you." He whispered in her ear and she blushed when she felt his hand on her lower back.

"I um~ Thank you...." She smiled up at him and then back at the city, Erik's eyes still focused on her.

He couldn't believe he had her by his side right now, even after everything he had done. He knew she deserved better than a man like him.... she was too sweet and caring and always seemed to have good intentions, but he was already silently promising her that he would take care of her and keep her safe.

"Erik? Can we not go to a place where it's too crowded?" She watched some people playing basketball in the distance and he was pulled out of his thoughts.

"Yeah of course. I wasn't planning on that anyway. I rather need your opinion on something." He noticed them too and smiled to himself, flashbacks returning from when he was playing basketball with his dad.

"Opinion on what?"

"An idea. Go sit down again, princess." He felt the aircraft lower and held onto her waist while guiding her back to her seat. Together they then both sat down, feeling the vehicle land and it shook lightly afterwards because an opening and a set of stairs appeared so they could leave the aircraft. "Ready?" He looked at her and raised his brow.

Ven nodded and laid her hand in his before walking down the stairs with him.

The sky was dark, yet the air was still warm and Ven furrowed her brows, confused as to why they were standing in the middle of a basketball field. She hadn't noticed they had accidentally interrupted some teenage boys' game too, but Erik did and tossed them the keys to the aircraft.

"Aye yo, don't touch anything in there!" He laughed and the kids ran off.

"They will definitely touch things in there." She mumbled jokingly and her king nodded.

"As long as they don't fly off, it's cool." His eyes landed on the apartments in front of him and his smile disappeared from his face. Somewhere in there was his father's apartment.... the apartment where he had found his father with panther claws in his chest.... dead.

"So, my king, why are we here?" She teased him and her facial expression immediately changed when she noticed the sad glare in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You know what happened here?" He sighed, not taking his attention away from the buildings.

"No...." Her eyes switched to the buildings as well.

"Let me tell ya. This is where my uncle left me to die after he killed my father." He pointed at the level he used to live on and his jaw tightened. "In this fucking building.... He didn't care what would happen to the kid on the streets because he was too scared to bring back the truth to Wakanda and look at what it did. It created a broken man full of hatred."

"Not that broken...." She whispered and his head snapped her way which made her back off a bit. Something made that hateful gaze he gave T'Challa back at the ritual return to his face and she swallowed. She didn't mean to say anything wrong. "I mean, you have good intentions or else we wouldn't be here, right?"

"How do you know that we're here for good intentions?" He rubbed his hands together and folded them behind his back before softening his gaze again.

"We weren't planning on going anywhere crowded and you wanted my opinion on 'an idea'." She shrugged and he closed his eyes, giving her a nod to show her she had guessed right.

"I wanna make this the first Wakandan International Outreach Centre."

"You do?"

"Yes. I want to buy these three buildings to make it happen, but I wanted your opinion on it first because you're my adviser and all you know." He watched her closely and she nodded with a bright smile.

"It's a beautiful and reachable spot to do so." She checked her surroundings and then stared back at him. "And it's a very good idea."

"Yeah?" He sounded a bit unsure and she grabbed his hand, stroking the back of it with her thumb.

"Yeah. Your father would be proud, Erik." She kissed his jaw very quickly and then climbed over the fence to get closer to the buildings and note the phone number on one of the signs. "Now let's go buy these buildings before they get taken down."

23 notes · View notes

yamalegacy · 3 years

Note

prompt eleven with mirko 😳

i've already done 11 with midnight but idc, i love buff bunny too much not to do it! and well, considering how it aligns with the godly possessive!rumi hcs, it's way too tempting anyway! so here goes!

prompt: #11 from this list “I bet you think you’re real cute letting them put their hands all over you. We’ll see how cute you look later when I get you home.”

pairing: mirko (usagiyama rumi) x gn!reader

cw: SMUT. afab reader. rumi is a possessive bunny. brat!reader. dom/sub dynamic. hair pulling, spanking, dirty talking, slight degradation & praise kink (yes, both at the same time, don’t underestimate rumi), fingering, strapon, slight anal fingering. oh boy this really is the filthiest thing i’ve written in a loooong time.

word count: about 3,7k words WOPS I GOT CARRIED AWAY

⚠️ MDNI reminder for minors to not interact with this post ⚠️

Your phone buzzes exactly seven minutes after you started a conversation with Keigo— he insists you call him Keigo, because Hawks is too professional and Takami is too formal, his own words. Seven whole minutes (yes, you’ve been keeping an eye on the time during the whole conversation). It’s over six minutes later than you’d expected, really. It buzzes again almost immediately, and you make a point to ignore your phone for a bit as you glance at Rumi, on the other side of the bar, over the rim of your glass.

When she arcs an eyebrow at you, visibly losing her patience, you give all your attention to Keigo again and offer him a smile before pulling your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans to check the messages you’ve no doubt received from the Rabbit Hero.

fluffy butt 🐇🤍

i bet you think you’re real cute letting him put his hands all over you we’ll see how cute you look later when i get you home

It’s almost disappointing how predictable she is with these things. Almost. Rumi is way too hot when she gets jealous for it to actually be disappointing. You want to remind her that she is the one who invited you to that bar and who left you alone to get drinks, that she is the one who got distracted by a conversation with Ryukyu, but you decide to leave her on read and see what happens.

From where you stand, you can see Rumi’s internal struggle not to just abruptly cut Ryukyu in the middle of what she is saying so that she can get right between you and Keigo. It’s quite the amusing sight, from her flattened ears to her thumping foot, her attitude reeks of frustration. You can’t help but wonder what will tick her off so much that she will intervene — Keigo has only touched you shoulder and given your arm a light squeeze and Rumi is already seething, so it seems likely just about anything would set her off.

“I can hear her thump from here,” Keigo comments, a lazy smile adorning his lips. “I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to murder me yet.”

You chuckle at his words.

“I think she’s trying to see whether or not looks can kill.”

He leans closer to you (and you know it’s much too closer to Rumi’s standards because you can smell the minty alcohol on his breath), “I sure hope looks can kill. It’d be a lot less painful than her foot up my— well, wherever she fancies shoving it, I guess.”

You don’t even have time to give him a reaction that you can hear heavy footsteps approaching, so you lean away from Keigo just enough to properly look at your girlfriend as she marches over to you. It’s only now that she is right here that you notice she’s opened her leather jacket, revealing one of her favorite crop tops — black, sinfully tight and exposing just the right amount of cleavage and abs to make your mouth water.

God, her skin always looks so tempting, you want to reach out, to put a hand on her waist, under her jacket, but she grabs you by the wrist before you can even try to move a muscle. Her eyes are fixed on you, and, to your surprise, she doesn’t even acknowledge Keigo.

“We’re leaving,” she says, her tone stern.

“Rumi... it’d be rude to leave so early,” you tell her, smiling at her with all the innocence you can muster (enough to fool anyone who doesn’t know you well), “and you are the one who wanted us to come here in the first pl—”

“We’re leaving. I remembered I have something to do.”

You want to push, to tease, to see how far she’ll go, so even if her tone leaves no room for argument, you open your mouth again.

“But you—”

“Now.”

She tugs are your arm and you follow as she takes a first few steps away from Keigo, only to turn around and face him.

“I hope you choke on your fucking feathers, birdy.”

“Always nice to talk to you, Usagiyama,” he simply smirks and gives her a small wave of his hand, “and I hope something,” he glances at you, “will enjoy getting done.”

Rumi doesn't give you any time to say goodbye to him, or to any of her hero friends, and she drags you out of the bar, heading straight for her car. She doesn't even let you register how forceful she is being that you've already been shoved in the passenger seat.

The ride home is short (too short; Rumi drives way too fast for a Pro Hero who is supposed to set an example for those around her) and awfully quiet. She didn't even look at you, didn't glance your way at least once like she usually does. Rumi's ears are still flattened in annoyance when she opens the door of her house to push you inside.

She kicks off her sneakers and takes off her leather jacket to leave it on the back of chair, then heads to the couch, sitting down nonchalantly, arms crossed under her chest in a way that pushes up her tits. All you can do is stare, unable to form a coherent thought as you settle down next to her.

“You had fun flirting with Big Bird, baby?” she asks, and the question would be innocent enough if you didn't know your girlfriend better.

You move so that you're facing Rumi on the couch, your knee bumping into a strong thigh — and maybe, for a moment, you get briefly distracted by the thought of these rippling muscles on either side of your head.

“Come on, Rumi, you know there was no actual flirting. We were just having fun.”

She leans closer to you, invading your personal space, face so close to yours that all you can see in the harsh coldness in her eyes. You barely have time to blink that one of her hands is at the back of your head, her grip on your hair surprisingly gentle.

“Oh, because you think I don’t know what little game you were playing with him there?” she is nearly snarling at you, and this time, her grip on your hair tightens, deliciously painful, and she tugs. “Why do you think I waited so long to grab you, uh?”

So, she knew? The whole time you spent talking with Keigo, flirting with him and allowing him to flirt to get a reaction from her, she knew? And it still didn't stop her from getting jealous and acting possessive in the middle of a bar, surrounded by numerous other Pro Heroes.

Her grip on your hair tightens once more and she brings you closer to her body.

"I just wanted to see how far you'd take your little game," she explains, words nearly spat through her gritted teeth. "But I couldn't take it anymore. You're mine, understood?" she asks, but the way she pulls at your hair clearly tells you that she expects no reply.

"I thought we agreed that I was my own person?" you smirk, even as she yet again tugs at your hair. "We said we don't own each other even if we're dating, didn't we?"

It is true, it's something you've talked about pretty early in your relationship together, after Rumi admitted that she could get jealous easily, but hated that she got jealous. It led to conversation about acting possessive during sex and marking, and you know that's what Rumi is going on about right now, and not some sort of ownership that she'd have over you because she is your girlfriend. But you can't help it, can't help wanting to push all her buttons and see what kind of punishment it earns you.

"You're playing smartass with me now, uh?"

She tugs at your hair again, forcing your head back slightly, but you hold eye contact, refusing to let her get the submission that she wants from you just now. You've already earned yourself a punishment, might as well make the most of it, right?

"I would never."

You smile innocently and bat your eyelashes at her, even if the pain tickling your scalp is starting to blur your sight.

She lets go of your hair without saying anything, and for just a second, you think she might be too annoyed with your act and drop the issue entirely to move on and do whatever she feels like doing for the rest of the night. But she wraps her strong fingers around your wrist and pulls, her free hand pressing harshly between your shoulder blades to push you down onto her lap, face into the couch cushion and ass up, perched over her thighs.

Well, shit.

The first spank comes unexpectedly fast and hard, you have no time to brace yourself for the impact, and your jeans do little to absorb the shock and the pain spreading through your cheek.

“Shit!” you groan through gritted teeth, trying your best not to get too loud, which is most likely exactly what Rumi wants right now.

“Got something to say, baby?” Rumi asks, and you can hear the smirk in her voice.

“Nope. All good,” you mumble.

A second slap comes, matching the first one in speed and strength, leaving your ass numb from the pain. If there’s one thing you can never expect from your girlfriend, it’s for her to go easy on you.

“All good, you said?”

“Yup,” you whimper pathetically, your voice having none of the bite you wish for. Two spanks, and Rumi already has you trembling over her lap, it’s ridiculous, but you should have seen it coming, really.

She spanks you again, twice, and takes the time to brush the palm of her hand over your sore cheeks, the gesture almost soothing. She repeats the movements again, and again, before stopping to give your ass a squeeze. With each spank, you pant, forcing yourself to swallow the moans that threaten to fall past your lips.

“You’re taking your punishment really well today, baby. Trying to be good for me?” she teases, her hand now comfortably lodged between your thighs, too close to your aching core and yet not nearly close enough.

“Or maybe you’re not hitting as hard as you think you are.”

You aren't sure why you said that, aren't sure what you're doing right now, all you know is that it's dangerous because you're just provoking Rumi — it's always a recipe for disaster in the end.

She doesn't spank you though, but she snakes a hand between her lap and your stomach, pressing her fingers into your skin and pushing up until you put your weight on your knees and lift yourself up enough for her to get access to the button of your pants. Rumi hooks her fingers at the hem of your jeans and tugs, dragging them down your thighs along with your underwear.

She doesn't give you time to adapt to the cool air against your exposed bottom, doesn't let you collect your thoughts or even take a breath, before she is spanking you again. She marks no pause between each strike, just spanks and spanks and spanks. Lost in the rapid fire of her assault on your sensitive ass, you can't stop yourself from moaning — and that's when she pauses.

“Did my baby just moan?”

You stubbornly refuse to respond, clenching your jaw. You know a spank is coming, but you still aren’t ready for the pain.

“It’s okay to admit that you’re just a slut, desperate for me to touch you,” she coos, her calloused fingers gently brushing the raw skin of your ass. “Even if I’m just spanking you, you want me to touch you, don’t you? Because you’re a needy little whore for me, uh?”

Her words cause a shiver to run down your spine, straight to your core, but you press your thighs together and bit your tongue. You’re well aware what she wants you to do, what she wants you to say, but you don’t want to give it to her today. You’ve decided to play, and you won’t back down just because she’s spanking your ass raw. At your stubborn silence, she all but growls in your ear, her annoyance obvious as she slaps your burning cheek once more.

“How long do you think you can resist, baby?” she asks as her fingers trace little patterns on your back, your shirt riding up as her hand slowly moves higher. “How long til you act like the good little slut you are for me?”

You muffle your whine in the cushion, which is starting to feel uncomfortably wet from your tears and drool under your cheek. You hate it, but you can’t give in now. Rumi would be too pleased.

“Just say you’re mine, baby, say you’re my perfect good little slut,” she says, her fingers trailing down your back to settle between your thighs, an inch from where you need her most, “just say it and I promise I’ll fuck your pretty cunt so good you won’t be able to walk.”

She runs a finger along your drenched fold, and you hear her hum in delight. You hate how wet she’s making you; you can’t deny that this is all for her, that it’s the effect she has one you. Met with only silence once again, Rumi harshly pinches your clit between her thumb and index finger.

“Aaah! Rumi—” you gasp, whole body quivering.

“Say it. Say you’re my slut. Beg me to fuck you.”

“Please,” you whimper weakly.

“Uh? What did you say? Didn’t hear you, baby. Stop hiding in the couch and gimme a proper sentence.”

You nearly sob as she tightens her grip on your clit before releasing it.

“I’m your slut! All yours!” you feel your whole face burning at your own word, at the desperation in your voice. “I need you to fuck me! Please... Mirko... please fuck me.”

She chuckles, all too amused to your liking.

“See? Ain’t so hard to be good, is it?”

Before you can register what’s happening, Rumi has hoisted you in her arms and thrown you over her shoulder and is making her way to your bedroom. Your pants still down the middle of your thighs and ass bared, it’s the most embarrassing ever but you can’t even find words to express it; you can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs, sticky and embarrassing.

She tosses onto the bed as soon as she is close enough to it.

“Be good and strip for me, baby. Take everything off.”

You hurry to obey, pushing your pants further down and kicking them off your feet before you start working on taking off your shirt. Rumi’s disappeared into the bathroom, so you sit patiently to wait for her, back leaning against the headboard.

When she comes back, Rumi is dressed, and you take the time to admire her beauty. The size of her strong arms obvious through the thin material of her long-sleeved crop top, the delicious expanse of tan skin of her stomach, her tight abs, the curve of her hips— you notice it only now, the thick bulge hidden under her jeans. You look up at her face, surprise written all over your features, and the smile she gives you is playful, she even wiggles her eyebrows at you.

Rumi unbuttons and unzips her pants, freeing the thickness of her strapon from them before climbing on the bed. She sits, legs spread, and beckons you closer with the simple movement of a finger.

“Suck it,” she demands, “get my cock nice and ready to fuck your cunt.”

You crawl over to her and wrap a hand around the hard silicone as soon as it’s within reach, your lips closing around its head. You circle it with your tongue, lick it, and look up at Rumi’s face, the dildo snug in your mouth. She can’t feel it, but she always enjoys when you put on a show for her.

Long gone is your little rebellious act from earlier. All you want is for Rumi to take you here and now, to have her fuck you until you pass out.

As you take more of the silicone cock into your mouth, she puts a hand on your head, and soon enough, you can feel her tight grip in your hair. You’re almost halfway when she tugs and pulls you away from her cock.

“Ass up. Face down. Now.”

You do as she orders, resisting the temptation to look up when you feel the bed dip next to you. You hear her open the drawer of the nightstand, then the sound of the lube bottle being opened. From the loud clang that follows, you know she’s thrown the bottle back in the drawer rather than bother putting it down.

Her fingers are cold when they press against your entrance, slick with thick lube that she spreads over your folds, over your clit, before pushing two fingers inside you. You grip at the sheets, low moan leaving your lips.

“Look at you, being all good for me now,” she comments, her tone teasing. “Taking my fingers so well.” This time, her voice comes from much closer, and you feel her chest pressing against your back. She kisses your neck and shoulders as she starts moving her fingers, slow and deliberate. “You want my cock, baby?”

You whimper at a particularly harsh thrust of her fingers and tighten your grip on the sheet to try and keep yourself anchored, balanced.

“Yes, please! I want your cock in me!”

She pulls out her fingers, and your cunt clenches around the emptiness. You can’t help but moan miserably. She coos above you, amused by your desperation, of course.

She pushes the thick head of the strapon against your hole, but instead of pushing further into you, she guides it up and down your folds, several time, painfully slow, spreading the slickness of your arousal mixed with the lube. You whine and push your hips back, seeking what she is refusing you. A big mistake, and you know it even before both her hands hit your ass, still raw from the spanking she gave you.

“Don’t try that again, baby,” she warns, squeezing the flesh of your in her hands as she presses the dildo against your entrance again. “You gonna be good for me now?”

“I promise I’ll be good! So, please, please fuck me!”

She pushes into you slowly, just the head, then pulls out and repeats the movement, carefully stretching you. She eases more of the strapon inside you with each move, and while you are grateful for how careful she is being, you wish she would just fuck you into the mattress already.

Finally, you feel her hips against your ass, and she pauses for a moment as her hands rest on your waist.

“You ready, baby?”

“I am.”

The pace she sets is fast, the movements of her hips quick, precise and harsh, almost unforgiving. The material of her pants feels rough against the sensitive skin of your ass, and you suspect Rumi of having kept her pants on merely to torture you that way.

Within seconds, Rumi has you panting and moaning.

“So good for me, taking my cock so well.”

She slows her quick pace to focus on deeper, more forceful thrusts. You can’t even form a coherent sentence, or even words, to respond. And when one of her hands leaves your waist, you clench your teeth and brace yourself for an impact that doesn’t come. Instead of spanking you, she is gentle as she places her hand on your ass. She doesn’t leave you time to consider asking her what she is doing that her thumb is pushing against your hole, and she keeps it set firmly in your ass as she quickens the pace again, fucking into your cunt ruthlessly, her hips slapping your ass with each thrust.

“Fuck! Mirko! Please!”

You’re babbling, unsure if the sounds that come out of your mouth are even the ones in your mind, but you can’t bring yourself to care when all you can feel is your girlfriend fucking you like your lives depends on it. And with each thrust bringing you closer to the edge, you moan, you mewl, you pant, you aren’t sure which, the lewd, wet noises of your pussy overwhelming your senses.

“Look at you, baby,” she croons, “being such a good slut for me, making such pretty noises just for me. So pretty and perfect. And all mine.”

“I’m so close! Please! I wanna come!”

She stills her hips, “then do,” she simply says, punctuating the short sentence with a strong thrust before resuming her quick pace.

It only takes a few more thrusts of her cock and her thumb pushing a little further into your ass for your muscles to clench desperately around her strap as waves of pleasure crash through your body, your limbs quivering from the unadulterated bliss clouding your mind.

She is gentle as she pulls out, kisses your back as she eases you down onto the mattress and lies down next to you.

You turn your head to look at her, and she is grinning at you as you lay limply on the bed. She caresses your cheek, soft and loving, and shifts closer to kiss you on the nose.

“You did so good, babe,” she whispers, her smile only broadening, “I’m so proud of you.”

Feeling the exhaustion invade your body, you close your eye and focus on enjoying her gentle touch as she runs her fingers along your back and shoulders.

“Let’s get you in the shower in a few minutes, yeah? I’ll have to take care of your ass. I really got carried, sorry ‘bout that.”

You chuckle sleepily at her apology.

“Don’t be sorry, you know I liked it.”

“I do know. I mean, you fucking dripped on my pants, there’s still a spot on my thigh.”

You groan in embarrassment, and you would cover your face with your hands if your muscles weren’t still twitching from your orgasm.

“Just carry my lifeless body to the bathroom.”

“Gimme a break, I’m tired too. I fucking wrecked my hands spanking you so hard, ya know?”

“You really want to compare the state of your hands to my ass?” you mutter, frowning, eyes barely opening.

It’s her turn to chuckle.

“Yeah, okay, no. Just, lemme take a breathe and I’ll take care of my baby.”

#mirko x reader #mha x reader #mha x you #mha smut #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha smut #🐇 usagiyama rumi ( mirko )#⚠️ mdni ⚠️#🍌 drabbles & oneshots #i need to cleanse my soul and wash off my sins #at least i didn't write mommy!mirko #which is nothing short of a miracle tbh

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softomi · 3 years

Text

Catfish

prompt: mother says to be wary of people you meet on the internet, especially since you never know who’s on the other side of the screen.

pairing: atsumu x reader

the unpaid extras: osamu, suna

general taglist: @graykageyama

Osamu liked to mess with his brother and lately he’s been planning the largest prank. It originally wasn’t supposed become a huge thing, but then Suna just kept edging him on; adding more things one by one and it just spiraled. Osamu was catfishing Atsumu with your pictures.

Now, Osamu knows that it sounds bad but technically you were in on the prank. You had never met nor even knew Atsumu, heck, you didn’t even know who Osamu was. You had been part of the prank merely through text messages and the occasional meet up with Suna.

To put it simply, Suna met you through one of his teammates; coincidentally you ended up in one of his classes and the two of you built a tiny friendship. Which was why, when Suna was thinking of the perfect person to catfish Atsumu with; your face lit up in his head.

You were the perfect candidate, exactly Atsumu’s type literally to a tee. When Suna pulled up your contact, the first thing he did was offer to pay you. Every picture you sent used for the prank, he’ll send you cash through an app and as a broke college student who needed cash fast, you agreed as long as the photos weren’t used for anything weird or sexual. He made sure to send you proof of each photo in use.

This brings it all back to dear Osamu catfishing his brother. He had created an entirely new Instagram for you, complete using your name and a cute description that him and Suna had spent two hours thinking of. They decided to even spend a few days perfecting it, posting pictures a few days apart with captions, following random groups, liking posts, essentially creating a whole new personality using your photos. Osamu had even developed a fake occupation for you; a foodie blogger to which some posts were dedicated to food reviews for restaurants Osamu deemed worthy of a post.

And when Osamu says that the prank spiraled; it fucking spiraled. Originally it started with Suna and Osamu following the account, suddenly Suna’s teammates began following the account. Osamu made the mistake of tagging Onigirl Miya in one of your photos, ultimately adding a few random people to follow the account. Suddenly after two weeks of having the account, you gained over two thousand follows.

It was no worries though, because Osamu can quickly catfish Atsumu, take down the account, and call it all good.

Safe to say, Atsumu accepted the friend request rather quickly. Osamu and Suna snicker to themselves, it took Atsumu less than five minutes to accept and he was already liking all of your photos. Not even ten minutes pass and he’s sliding into the DM’s.

The two men looking at the phone and burst into laughter. They spend five minutes cackling at Atsumu’s random ‘hey’ message that followed with a smiling emoji.

Osamu was absolutely entertained, it was hilarious that his own brother had fallen for his catfish and honestly, Osamu was ready to give up the act after three days but then Atsumu said something that just really pissed him off. He doesn’t remember what it was, he just suddenly ended up two more weeks later still having the fake Instagram account and still having Atsumu believe that he was falling in love with some girl.

Somehow the account ended up with over five thousand followers, Atsumu messages the account religiously, and Osamu for some godly reason is still managing the account three months later. It’s spiraled.

“I have a girlfriend!” Atsumu doesn’t know why his friend and brother are laughing. He’s scrolling through your Instagram, the catfish Instagram.

Osamu almost chokes on his food, “So what, have you guys gone on a date? Have you even seen her in real life?” Suna snorts into his drink, he coughs when he accidentally inhales the water sharply.

Atsumu slumps in his seat, his voice small, “No, but we talk every day and she likes me!”

Suna is coughing even harder now, tears threatening to leave his eyes to the point that he excuses himself to the bathroom. Osamu has a shit eating grin on his face, “How do you know she’s actually not some old dude catfishing you?”

“She’s not!” Atsumu stutters, “She’s real!”

“Prove it.”

Osamu was about to learn a harsh lesson about the world; the world loves to bite you in the ass when you least expect it.

Atsumu leans forward, an eerie grin on his lips, “Happily.” Atsumu whips out his phone, quickly presses a number and holds the phone to his ear. He holds a finger up to his brother, even gesturing for the returning Suna to remain quiet. The phone picks up, “Hey babe, you wanna meet me here at Onigiri Miya?” Atsumu looks at the watch on his wrist, “Twenty minutes? Perfect.”

Osamu’s believing his brother is bluffing. There was no way in hell he’d be able to somehow magically bring the catfish to life, heck, Atsumu would be a god if suddenly he could. Thirty minutes pass, Osamu is exchanging looks with Suna. It’s absolutely silent between the three.

Osamu is suddenly feeling guilty, Suna is uncomfortable to the point that he’s even texting you to make sure you weren’t actually coming, and you confirmed with him that you weren’t.

“Should we tell him?” Osamu whispers when another five minutes pass.

Suna is deadpanned, “I don’t know, we’re kind of reaching a sad territory now. Let’s just break up with him and ghost him.”

Osamu groans, “But do we want to deal with a sad Atsumu, I’ll take getting my ass kicked over him crying in my apartment.”

The door chimes and their jaws smack the floor. You walked through the door, eyes roaming the place before landing on the three huddled into the corner. Is he a fucking god? Atsumu stands from his seat, he meets you halfway, pulling you into a heartfelt kiss that has you swooning.

The closer you approach with Atsumu’s arm around your shoulder, the more they truly begin to believe that Atsumu is a god.

“Guys, this is my girlfriend.” This time it’s Atsumu who has a shit-eating grin, “Ain’t she a beauty, the pictures don’t do her justice.”

It takes everything in Osamu to not scream, “But, you said you’d never even met her before.”

Atsumu gazes into your eyes, hearts practically floating above his head, “I mean I guess technically this is our first-time meeting, right?”

You nod, a puppy like expression on your face, “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet. You must be Osamu.” You point to him then your fingers drag to the other male, “Suna.”

“Oh.” Suna sits straight up, “Oh!” He catches the glint in your eyes, the conniving little minx of a look. Suna was no longer calm, “We’ve been double crossed!”

There’s screaming, fingers are being pointed at each other, Atsumu is gripping Osamu by the neck of his shirt, Suna is literally calling your phone to make sure that it’s actually you, Osamu is pulling his brother’s hair. The customers of the restaurant stare with their jaws dropped at the scene.

Everyone is squished into Osamu’s small office. Suna is sitting on the desktop, Osamu in his chair, Atsumu in the spare seat, and you lean on the arm of Atsumu’s chair. His arm dangles around your waist, pulling you to lean on him with a cheery grin.

Atsumu leans forward, taking in the expressions of the two bewildered boys, “I guess let’s start at the beginning.”

While the story technically began three months ago with Suna asking for your cooperation, the story of you and Atsumu began two months ago.

The extra cash from all the pictures you sent Suna was giving you enough to be able to go out and live a little on the weekends. Originally the bar was dead, you and your friends were tucked into the corner in a booth when a rowdy bunch of men came in. Your friends gasped having recognize them as members of a sports team and with their excitement, they must have won a game.

It didn’t affect your group that much until it came to split ways; being in your last year of university, you excused yourself, insisting that you needed to go home to finish a project. As you stood at the register, card tapping against the counter, that was when he showed up.

At this point, Atsumu had spent the past hour believing the gods were on his side. He practically walked by your table ten times just to make sure the face matched the one in his instagram’s DM. After forty minutes of the constant back and forth, your quick gazes at him walking by the table seem to do nothing. Were you unable to recognize him?

He took his shot watching you stand alone at the counter. He finishes off his drink and smoothly strides to you.

“Hey!” Atsumu leans on the counter, flashing a smile despite alcohol dripping from the side of his mouth, “Wouldn’t you consider this fate?” He gestures between the both of you.

You’re confused, shooting him a puzzled gaze, “Sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else.” You hand the card to the worker, anxiously eyeing the male who’s increasingly invading your space.

Atsumu places a hand on the small of your back, it was something Instagram you had mentioned you liked, instead it triggered a fight or flight. Your hand makes harsh contact with his cheek, he retracts his hand immediately.

“Don’t touch me!” You bark at him, “Perv.” You’re aggressively signing the receipt, storming out of the door while other men seem to ooh at Atsumu’s situation.

“Hey!” Atsumu catches your figure outside of the bar, you’re waving a hand to catch a cab, “I think we got off on the wrong foot there.”

You don’t give him a second glance, “Look, I don’t know who you think you are.”

“Atsumu.” He stands right in front of you, blocking your sights for a cab. He’s got the widest smile on his face as he holds out a hand, “Miya Atsumu. Volleyball player. Setter for the Black Jackals.”

“Okay.” You run a hand through your hair, oddly taking his hand into a shake while eyeing him, “Miya Atsumu, volleyball player, setter for the Black Jackals.”

You step to the side, arm out still trying to catch a taxi but he blocks your way once more and he looks at you with such wonder. His eyes practically having stars coming out and his smile warm and inviting. He was wondering if you were a twin, maybe he had actually gotten the wrong person.

“You are?”

The wind is causing your hair to blow in your face, he wants to so bad to brush the strands behind your ears but the way you gave him a slap earlier makes him think that’s a bad idea. Your fingers pull your hair back, “Y/n. I don’t have a fancy title like yours but, I guess I don’t know, senior to be graduating at the university.” You sidestep him once more, “I’m just trying to catch a cab home.”

Once more he blocks your way and you look at him with defeat. He was persistent. He laughs, “Sorry, last time, but do you not know me?”

You’re still as confused as ever, “Look if you’re going to pull some cheesy line about seeing me before, it’s not going to work.”

“Wait, just hold on a second.” Atsumu pulls out his phone, his fingers are shaking as he presses onto the app. He pulls up your profile, handing you his cell phone, “This is you isn’t it?!”

Your eyes scan the social media page, your mouth falling open, there’s a hidden laugh itching in your throat. These were all the picture you had taken for Suna and somehow, you’re being shown by a stranger your fake profile.

“We’ve been messaging for like a month, I can’t believe you don’t recognize me.”

I don’t recognize you because I’m not the one talking to you.

You’re perplexed, you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do, if you told him he’s being catfished you’d lose the flow of side cash you’ve developed but if you didn’t, isn’t that just wrong. And the more you look at him from under the stars, he’s rather cute; you suddenly feel bad for slapping his face earlier.

“Do you want to get some coffee?”

Your offer sends him over the moon, he’s walking alongside you to the nearest convenience; Atsumu is rather talkative, bringing up topics of everything and anything that comes to his mind. As the two of you look over drink options in the cooler, his hands pull two cans of black coffee.

“You’re favorite right?” He holds one out to you.

Your actively smiling, biting your lower lip and wondering if you needed to play along with the role but as he stares at you with such adoring eyes, it makes your heart skip a beat just taking in the fact that he would remember something trivial over text.

“Actually.” You place the drink back, opting for a sweeter caramel macchiato, “I would say that this is my favorite.”

Atsumu quirks a brow, “Are you saying you were lying to me?” He places a hand over his heart, “And here I thought we were soulmates.”

Your hand smacks against his arm, “Shut up.”

“So what are you studying for?” Atsumu sips his drink, the two of you leaning against the windows of the convenience store. There’s a slight sway in his body and you’ve unknowingly followed his movements.

“Literature. Once I graduate, an internship is probably where I’ll start but I’m hoping I can get hired into a publishing company.” He’s comfortable to be with and you aren’t sure if it’s because he thinks he knows you or because his presence is just like that; comfortable.

Atsumu finishes off his canned beverage, “And you do that, all on top of running a foodie Instagram.”

From what you gathered on a quick skim of the account; they have your occupation as a lower level food blog; it’s rather funny. You can only nod to him, “It’s just a side hobby really.”

“Well maybe I could join you on one of your little adventures.”

You try to suppress the immense grin that wants to grow on your lips, there’s an internal battle happening of whether you should tell him or not but once again, the way he looks at you, the cute doe eyed look; it puts butterflies in your stomach.

“How about tomorrow?” He lets out a small gasp, your hands pull out your cell phone and offer it to him, “Your number?”

“I’m free for lunch, just text me when and where.”

You press the number he’s inserted into his contact; in a second his cell rings and he’s showing off his screen, “Don’t message me on Instagram though, I’m detoxing from social media for a bit. Just, text my number.”

He walks you to the curb, helping you flag down a cab, and you give him one last gleeful glance before getting into the car. As you sit, you’re quick to dial Suna’s number. You know he’s probably sleeping but the light feeling in your heart overrides his sleep schedule.

“What?” He’s groaning.

“Suna listen to me carefully. The prank that you guys are doing.” You hear a small snore, “Suna!” He jolts awake and you groan, “You know what, go back to sleep.”

“Thanks.” He hangs up immediately.

Your phone dings, Atsumu’s name pops up. Can’t wait for our date. You bite on your thumb, a smile on you before you respond.

Although having just seen him forty minutes ago, you two text back and forth. First he wondered if you arrived home safe, next he sent pictures of himself insisting it’s for you to choose for his icon, then he proceeds to narrate his way home. You wonder if you’re responding like catfish you but the more he brings up random topics, the more you forget about that stupid prank.

Wait let me call you.

Your heart beats faster, your phone lighting up with his name. You press the answer button slowly, “Hello?” You giggle.

“You’re telling me that you like spikers more than setters.” His voice is nearly screaming and you lean back on your chair laughing into the phone.

The quick research you did on his team had you watching short videos, and while you had to admit it was amazing to watch, your eyes drifted more to one of his teammates than him, “What’s his name?” You lean to look at your computer screen, “Bokuto Koutarou?”

“No!” He’s whining out into the air, “If I had known you were a spiker girl I would have changed positions.”

Your eyes catch the time on your laptop, “Woah. It’s three in the morning.” That meant you had spent over four hours total texting him and now you were on the phone with him, “What are you doing awake?”

He blows out a breath of air, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Well.” You draw out the word, dragging your self to your bed, “I’m going to go to sleep now.” There’s a pause on the line, “Atsumu?” He hums tiredly, “Good night.”

There’s a small snore from him before he shifts around, “Good night.”

The morning light urges you awake, for a second you peak at your phone’s time and it nears ten in the morning. You’re about to throw your phone back onto the bedside table until Atsumu’s name catches your eye. For having gone to bed at three a.m. he shot you a text at seven.

Morning beautiful.

It was sweet, simple, and it made you smile; giving you the extra push to get out of bed. You stalked your own catfish page, there hadn’t seemed to be any updates so there was still time. A quick search of the internet has you picking out a random restaurant nearby and you send off a text to Atsumu about a meeting time.

You were late, pushing through the doors of the restaurant, your eyes scan the place to see him raise a hand for you. He’s dashingly handsome despite being in casual wear, you wonder if he spent time like you did just trying to pick out an outfit or if he spent forever gelling his hair as long as you tried to get your strands into the perfect waves.

“Sorry, did you wait long?” You pull into the seat in front of him.

He’s smiling and you hope to god that when you break the news to him, he’ll still smile for you, “I just got here not too long ago too.” He looks over the menu quickly, “What do you think you’ll get?”

You inspect each dish, a light hum on you as you dance around the option, “The spaghetti sounds nice.”

Atsumu tilts his head, “It has red meat in it.” You stare blankly at him, “Aren’t you allergic to red meat?”

“Oh.” You set the menu down, “Actually.” He follows your actions, you’ve become nervous at what you’re suddenly about to do, “There’s something you should know.”

“Fuck this!” Atsumu throws the napkin on the table, you jump as he harshly stands, throwing the chair back.

“Atsumu.” You stand.

“No! Don’t. Were you just messing with me then? Did Osamu tell you I was going to be at the bar last night?” Atsumu’s fist ball, “You know what, whatever.”

“Wait.” You follow him behind, “Atsumu. I’m sorry.”

He harshly turns to you, god, even in sunlight you were beautiful to him. He wants to laugh, the month he spent talking to the fake you; yeah that was all bullshit to him but honestly when he saw you last night, when he spent over four hours actually talking to you; he actually felt that maybe this could be something deeper.

“I’m really sorry, I know I should have said something right away.” You have a soft pout on you and it makes him outwardly groan.

He runs a hand through his hair, “Okay, it’s fine. I probably deserved this prank too anyways; must have pissed him off somehow.” He waves a hand, “You can just go back to doing whatever.”

Your hand pulls on his wrist, “I owe you a meal.” You bat your eyes with a cheeky grin, “If you take pictures of me, we can send them to Suna and use the money for our food.”

“Oh.” He begins to smile, “I like that idea.”

Back into Osamu’s office, Atsumu has now pulled you onto his lap, your head resting on his shoulder with arms hanging around his shoulders. The two bachelors stare at the sickly loving sight.

A lightbulb goes off in Suna’s head, “Wait! My money!”

You snort a laugh into Atsumu’s shoulder, “Hey, I earned that fair and square. You paid for goods.”

Osamu is having a staring contest with his brother, “So you two have been actually dating for two months? Why would you still message the catfish account then, why not just kick my ass when you found out?”

Atsumu taps a finger on his chin, “Well, I was just originally going to ghost you guys but then babe here and I discovered that we could fund all of our dates with Suna’s money. We even started setting aside leftover cash from our dates to plan a trip.”

You giggle, “We’re going to Disney next weekend.”

“All the pictures.” Suna whispers.

There’s an amused hum in your throat, “Honestly I’m surprised you guys didn’t figure it out. We were dropping hints in the photos.”

Indeed, the two males looked at the pictures you sent them. If they backtracked to two months ago, there wouldn’t be any hints but the closer they get to the present; it was painfully obvious. They were just too caught up in their excitement to even notice. In one photo, part of Atsumu’s shoulder and hair was just barely in the picture; another had his reflection vividly displayed in the window of the restaurant, and somehow Osamu and Suna missed the obvious Black Jackals jacket sitting on the back of the chair next to you.

The two boys were having a mental breakdown.

You shifted on Atsumu’s lap, leaning forward to tap against the top of Osamu’s phone, “Now, if you’d please deactivate the account since this whole charade is over.”

Osamu ended up not deleting the account. He set the account to private because seeing how his brother was so deeply entranced by you, Osamu had a feeling this one was going to last and he was right; on Atsumu’s wedding day, his little best-man speech had him whipping out the catfish Instagram to display on the monitor for everyone to see.

#haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu scenarios #osamu #suna #atsumu

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mountphoenixrp · 1 year

Photo

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

Noel Yunuen, a 27 year old son of Acat. He is a tattoo artist at Marimo Ink.

PERSONALITY: he’s unapologetically sarcastic though he mostly doesn’t mean any harm; coy glances and smug grins over a glass of blood wine are his signature, but he finds peace in listening to the reasoning behind a person’s tattoo - they’re sacred to him, so every detail that gets explained fills his hazel eyes with tremendous joy. whether someone believes in him or not doesn’t bother him in the slightest, what matters is the passion they fill their ink with. to him, that someone thinks a piece of his artwork is worthy of being on their skin is the greatest honor and will treat any of his clients with the utmost respect, always attentive to their every need.

HISTORY: “don’t come back too late. ya es tarde, mijo.”

PANTHEON: Mayan CHILD OF: Acat POWERS:

paint/ink manipulation; he can manipulate paint and ink as if they’re an extension of his being. when mixed with his blood, they turn poisonous and can sting to the touch. through this he’s learned to solidify his blood with the ink in his skin into sharp blades for fighting in case he needs to. This power also allows the creation of moving paintings, they cannot be interacted with just observed. he often uses this to recreate memories he’s fond of, but can be applied to quite anything he feels like painting.

pain transferal; he can take someone’s pain and transfer it onto himself or onto someone else - doing the latter, however, weakens him greatly.

STRENGTHS:

pain; he has a high pain tolerance, almost to the point where if pain is too extreme his entire body goes numb. this often makes him feel euphoric and provides a boost of energy for a limited amount of time.

tattooing; being the son of the god of tattoos and scarification, doing either of the two activities strengthens him and his abilities.

WEAKNESSES:

sunlight; just as direct sunlight can make a freshly made tattoo burn, his physical strength deteriorates whenever he stands outside during daytime. he can still walk, but his eyesight blurs and he feels constantly light headed. It’s manageable thought.

pain; a two edged sword - while also being one of his greatest strengths, being in pain for too long makes him behave erratically, almost as if in bloodlust.

blood; even if drinking blood regularly keeps him healthy, drinking too much will slowly drive him insane, potentially turning him into a cold blooded kiler.

#kpop rp #krp #sf9 #yoo taeyang #sf9 taeyang #mp; welcome

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levicanpunchme · 3 years

Text

Levi X Y/N

Genre: Romance/Fluff/Modern AU

Warning: sexual references

Summary: You attend a business party with your boyfriend, Levi in hopes of introducing yourself but things turn hazy when a blonde idiot keeps staring at you. Levi’s burning anguish strikes.

Mine

The large dining hall was illuminated with yellow candles, creating a sophisticated atmosphere for the various honourable guests. The darkness of the hall suffocated you, making you clench onto your purse tighter. These high society parties were not your cup of tea; they made you uncomfortable. If you could, you’d never again breathe next to these oblivious, high nosed women who flaunted their lavished lifestyle which their husbands had earned after dirty business work. What was there to be so proud of-? You wondered. When they spoke to you, you heard the discreet arrogance in their tone and it made you want to scream.

You desperately avoided these events; however, this time, you wanted to formerly introduce yourself-after all your boyfriend was a well established businessman. He was required to attend such parties and ever since he told you about the women throwing themselves at him, you couldn’t help jump into an elegant dress and rush to join his side.

Your lips touching the rim of your glass paused when you caught sight of your raven haired boyfriend in a black suit, wearing a blank expression on his face as a domineering aura surrounded him. This was the first time you had asked to join him in such an event and you were kind-of-glad you did. He looked awfully attractive, his eyes forecasting a shadowy glow in the darkness of the hall. He was the centre of attention; not just because of his godly appearance but also his reputable character.

Levi Ackerman was the sole owner of X company, a name in the higher ups of the world’s largest food industry. His work ethics were widely praised all over the country and every businessman was desperate to earn an opportunity to work with him. His work ethics were a reflection of his character. He had started at the bottom of the chain and earned his way up, struggle after struggle.

You were so proud to call him yours.

“My husband wanted to donate to the local NGO and I was personally against it because we already do so much. We take part in various charitable events after all.” - for publicity, a voice completed in your head. You smiled to yourself at the hypocrisy of the rich brats.

You rolled your eyes, looking back at your boyfriend on the other table and you noticed he was already staring at you. His eyes carefully read your expression. He immediately realised your discomfort and rose from his seat, taking wide strides towards you. Your eyes widened when he grabbed your hand and tugged at you to stand up with him. The five ladies on the table quickly shut up as they softly greeted Levi, their voices growing coy and shy. They sounded so sweet as if they weren’t already married; it made you want to puke.

As Levi clasped his arm around your waist, he silently nodded at the ladies not even sparing them a glance as he walked away with you back to his table. You almost smirked back at the women but restrained yourself, knowing you couldn’t afford to trample over Levi’s reputation by falling into a childish girly scuffle.

“You have to pay me when we get home for saving your ass back there,” he softly whispered against your frame, causing goosebumps to awaken on your skin. You glanced at him and laughed at the dark glaze in his eyes.

“I didn’t need any saving,” you replied back, your challenging gaze daring him to say otherwise. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a soft smile on his lips and then whispered back. “We’ll see about that at home.”

Your stomach flipped.

Levi casually pulled you with him to his table and sat you down next to him. You stared, wide eyed. He was currently sitting around huge business tycoons, discussing future arrangements. You noticed the blonde man sitting opposite to Levi and froze up. He was the man Levi was bidding on for future collaborations as he was the second largest producer in food industry in the world.

“This is my girlfriend, Y/n L/n.” You didn’t realise when he introduced you and quickly sat up, smiling at the men as you greeted them.

“Oh, how wonderful! They say behind every successful man stands a woman,” one of the older men stated and Levi nodded firmly. “Indeed.” And you looked at Levi explicitly.

You felt a wave of emotions course through you and suddenly you wanted to kiss him. Levi was so hardworking. He had struggled for every opportunity in his career and deserved every ounce of the success he currently had. You wanted to throw away everything to make him happy.

“How beautiful,” you gazed away from your boyfriend to the origins of the voice and sat frigid. The blonde, thin-lipped man was staring at you with a strange glint in his eyes, a smirk uplifting his lips as he eyed you up and down.

“Are you currently studying?” the blonde man slurred, his British accent becoming more apparent now. You felt chills run down your spine as you noticed his eyes wander to your cleavage and it made you feel icky. You knew his intentions were dirty but it didn’t matter. You wouldn’t see him ever again after today. You never wanted anyone to stare at you like that. It made your insides crawl. It made you feel insignificant, demoralised and inferior.

You gulped and smiled indifferently. “Journalism,” you answered and looked away quickly. You noticed Levi’s hand clench tightly under the table and panic rippled in your chest. You quickly grabbed his hand, fear racking your head. Levi would singlehandedly destroy anyone who looked at you with nasty intentions and you knew that. You were a witness to it once when you were drunk after a university gathering and a man tried to take you home. Levi had stalked down the street and knocked the man’s front tooth out before safely taking you back to his place.

He was so full of anguish that he almost got the man kicked out of uni. Fortunately, you managed to stop him before things escalated.

“Levi,” you muttered, your mind going blank as you noticed the awakening demon in his eyes; his darkening predatory stare trained at the man, his mouth tightly shut and jaw clenched. You suddenly wanted to evaporate. You tried to appease him as you stroked his large hand, your soft skin gliding against his callous one. He reacted by gripping your hand tightly, holding it. He still didn’t spare you a glance and kept his drilling gaze trained at the man in front.

“Journalism? So you’re one of the smart ones.” His eyes were hazy and tone lousy due to heavy alcohol consumption. His eyes again feasted at your exposed skin and you shrunk into your chair, your heart clashing against your chest. You noticed the dead silence pinning the table as everyone felt the thick tension from Levi’s disgusted stare. Your hold on Levi’s hand grew tighter, forcing him to look at you.

“I’m fine, don’t do anything rash,” you whispered but it seemed like your plea went through him, unheard.

You realised that if the man said anything more, Levi would definitely charge at him. You had to get out of here before it was too late.

“Excuse me, I’m heading to the washroom,” you muttered and gave Levi’s hand another comforting squeeze before standing to leave. You didn’t look back as you hurried to the washrooms. You planned on spending the rest of the night in the lavatory since the party was just awfully disappointing.

You wanted to stand beside Levi but not under the current circumstances. The blonde smug idiot was the most influential in the field and you wanted to do nothing to sabotage your boyfriend’s future goals.

You locked yourself in one of the stalls and sat down annoyedly. It was supposed to be a fun night out with your boyfriend. You didn’t know a rich party full of influential businessmen was just a pathetic havoc wreaking battlefield. You mentally promised to never ask Levi to take you to another event. You annoyedly massaged your forehead in slow circles, hoping to ease the ache.

“Excuse me,” you heard a shrill voice call out as someone knocked from outside. You sat up alarmed.

“Yes?” You replied unsurely.

“I think your boyfriend is outside the washroom waiting for you.” You stood up, your eyes zeroing as you whipped the door open. A brunette haired woman stood before you. “You’re Levi Ackerman’s girlfriend, right? He asked me to check inside for you,” she told you, giggling and then stepped to the sink, resuming back to washing her hands.

You rushed for the door and abruptly pulled it open, stepping outside. As expected, Levi was stationed against the wall, his eyes already tracing yours, needy and impatient. He stepped towards you and pulled you close to him, his fingers grazing your exposed neckline and you heard him breath you in.

“We’re going home,” he whispered into your neck. You nodded hesitantly as he held your hand tightly and marched out to the hall. You almost gasped- as everyone was staring at you both, thick tension brewing in the air. It seemed like you were under spotlight. Levi’s gaze was unaffectedly cold as he stayed upright. Standing beside him was a privilege since Levi had a significant presence to mobilise the crowd to stop and stare.

But this was different. Everyone was whispering and murmuring among themselves as they stared at you horrified. You wondered what had happened for everyone to be so silent and meek around him. Your gaze fearfully swayed to the table where the blonde man had been and you were shell shocked when you noticed a heavy purple bruise under his eye. Your body grew cold as you looked at Levi shocked. He noticed your questioning gaze but only responded by pulling you closer to him.

When you both were out the premises, inside the car park, you pulled at his hold. “Levi, how could you attack a powerful businessman! Have you gone mad?” You gasped, finding it hard to comprehend. He didn’t answer you and kept his moderate pace towards the car.

“Levi, I’m talking to you!” You shrieked, your eyes growing large with anger. He finally halted in his tracks and turned towards you, his eyes burning with seething anger, his fists still clenched, a bluish bruise starting to form on his right fist.

“We need to get out of here before I do something worse,” he spat, his aggressive voice making your throat dry. You felt the frustration building in your chest and your eyes burned with tears.

“You’ve ruined a great opportunity! Do you think he’ll let this go? He won’t-!” You yelled, your head pounding as you felt desperate enough to cry out. “Levi, you’ve worked so hard for this,” you cried, your heart aching.

He was adamant on establishing himself. Never losing sight of his goals, he spent a year working on his startup. He earned investments after tirelessly sacrificing sleep and lunch, date nights and family dinners. You loved him so much, so much that you were always supportive. His absence made you so lonely yet you never complained; there were nights you wanted him to hold you, days you wanted him to listen to your grieving heart, but it was best to not bother him. You internally ached and slowly the ache started to disappear when he came back. After successfully earning a huge investment, everything changed. It was like his pot of love for you flooded and spilled everywhere, unable to be contained. He stopped working excessively. He became so clingy, so needy for your presence, it drove you insane- in a good way.

“Y/n, why’re you crying?” His stern voice caused your body to shrink, goosebumps awakening on your skin. His eyes were so thunderously dark, waves of anger rippling in his frame.

“Because!” You croaked, you sounded awfully hurt. “How could you ruin chances of growing this? After you’ve worked so hard for it!” You shouted, your face angry red with tears spilling out. You were so angry and frustrated that you wanted to physically beat someone.

Levi’s chest was heaving as he stared at you, his face pinning you down, holding you captive. “You care about my fucking business right now?” He sounded hurt as well, his raspy voice so quiet, you could tell he was boiling.

“Yes!” You cried. “You’ve wanted this so bad. After this deal, you would’ve been unbeatable Levi!” You threw your hands in despair, the frown on your face deepening. Levi’s body shook as he stepped closer and before you could register it, he had grabbed your wrist and slammed you to the car, his arms immediately protecting your anterior from pain. A loud clash was heard as he pinned you beneath him, his breathing heavy, his eyes glazed.

“I’ve worked so hard, day after day so you can stand next to me without shame. You deserve someone strong and I was so pathetic back then,” he stated, his eyes trained on yours as he truthfully uttered. Each word pained you more than you could imagine. Your heart began to break, tears rolling down your cheeks like a stream.

“How could I be with you, such a gorgeous, strong woman? I was unworthy and it made my blood boil.” His confession left you utterly speechless. “Hange said I should give you up. It’s an easy way out but the thought of that kept me up at night.” Hange was Levi’s best friend from college and now a dear friend of yours. You were completely unaware of these conversations.

“The fact that Hange even mentioned that made me sick. That night, I decided to be worthy of you. Because you’re mine. I can give up this whole world but never you,” he whispered and his mouth found your neck.

“W-why didn’t you ever tell me?” You contained your moans, crying out in pain and awe as Levi’s teeth dug in your collarbone. His tongue slickly traced the bite mark across the neckline as he tasted you to his fulfilment.

“Because you don’t need to care about it,” he rasped, his heavy pants taking over your head making you twitch and turn in his hold.

“I’ve achieved enough to protect you,” he whispered against your skin and dropped wet kisses down to your cleavage.

“I want to rip his filthy fucking eyes out for looking at you like that, y/n,” he roared, the bitterness returning; his eyes remained on yours, watching you throw your head back as he satiated his hunger. His kisses grew desperate, needy- his hand against your waist tightening as he pulled you into him.

Your body reacted on its own, curling into his hot frame. Everything felt hot: from the heavy breaths exhaled against your neck to the hand gripping your waist. Your face was probably on fire and you felt so dirty for letting him submit to his desires outside in a car-park where anyone could walk in and watch a show. But it also felt so euphoric, to have him desperately feasting on you that you couldn’t reject him.

Jealous Levi made your stomach pool.

“You’re only mine-how dare that fucking crook stare at you like that,” his words were cut off as he painfully dug his teeth into your breast, a gasp escaping from your mouth.

“Levi,” you breathed, your body aching like you had caught a fever. He heard you clear and your airy words turned him on more than ever because he started to push himself into you, kisses trailing into your chest.

You felt him. You almost screamed because he was so brutally turned on, you shook against his frame, your legs falling weak. He supported you as he held you tightly, digging his nose into your hair, inhaling your sweet scent.

You were so heated when you heard footsteps, a heel clicking against a marble floor. Even though, your ears heard the sounds loud and clear, your mind was elsewhere and refused to comprehend or react appropriately by pulling away. You knew you should-this is so embarrassing but you couldn’t get yourself to push Levi away.

You were pulled out of your trance when Levi jerked back, his gaze so pained and hazy. You swear you saw his limbs shake as his chest heaved, his body so rigid, afraid to move or he would fall to the ground. He clenched his fist determinedly and swore under his breath.

“Get in the car-no one sees you like this,” he commanded. You didn’t know what he meant but you obediently ran to the passenger seat and rushed inside, your heart clashing against your chest. In the rear view mirror, you saw yourself and immediately realised what your boyfriend meant. He didn’t want anyone to see you-your hair messy, eyes hooded with intense desperation, your face flushed and breathing heavy; you looked lustrous, so turned on and oozing of desire.

The next second, you heard Levi pull the door and get inside. His forehead was covered in a cast of sweat and his hair was now a mess as if he had run his fingers through the black strands.

“I can’t drive. I literally can’t feel my legs.”

You threw your head back, your frame wreaking with laughter. He glared at you, his eyes still brewing with desire.

“Shut up before I take you here,” he threatened and you quickly shut up. You knew him too well to know that he would actually comply. You gazed at him as he sat inhaling and exhaling, an exercise he sometimes used to recover.

After sitting for ten more painful minutes, he finally drove home and you had never seen him drive so fast. It was going to be a long, long, long night and you were going to enjoy every second of it with Levi.

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