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mlmxreader · 1 year ago

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An American Werewolf In London | Johnny Cage x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Is it all in my head?

- Male reader with Johnny Cage ❞

: ̗̀➛ Johnny brings his boyfriend on holiday with him, but as perfect as things may begin, they soon turn sour.

: ̗̀➛ body horror, swearing, blood & gore

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

A holiday in London. It was just what Johnny needed, in all honesty, getting away from the spotlight for a couple of weeks to recharge after his latest film; he had no idea that playing a werewolf would be so taxing. But maybe that was just the prosthetics that they covered him in. Either way, he was tired and a holiday was needed.

Naturally, he took you along with him; his agent turned boyfriend of nearly six years. The newspapers still called you close friends, which never failed to make you laugh.

Even though Johnny wanted to see the city, you insisted on staying in a rural area outside of it; a little village called Llanfaintypridd. He could never say no to you, so he agreed. It was nice, plenty of moors around, very little people around to alert paparazzi, he could snuggle up to you at night and didn't have to ensure that the curtains were closed tightly or that the light was off.

It was so different from the hustle and bustle of Hollywood, he could see himself getting used to it, even if it was only for a couple of weeks. Of course, the locals at the pub warned you both against the moors at night; they said that something terrible lurked out there, some kind of creature that spared no man or beast.

You both figured it was just folklore, some old myth that refused to die, some old legend that was passed down from father to son. Nothing to worry about, not really.

The local pub was called the Full Moon, and although the name struck you as odd, you and Johnny still went there every day for something to eat and something to drink; the locals were… they weren't hostile, but they weren't exactly welcoming and warm, either. Mostly giving you and Johnny odd looks and stares when you first walked in.

"Don't go on the moors when you leave," the barkeep, Ameesha, would say. "Stay on the roads."

But you let Johnny talk you into it, and upon leaving the road, you found yourselves trekking across the moor; the grass was short and brown, exposing the grey rocks that were scattered around. Johnny nudged you, grinning ear to ear as he turned his gaze to the sky.

"Full moon," he hummed. "Where's that beast they all mentioned?"

You shrugged, putting your arm around his waist and leaning into him. "Probably nowhere. It's just an old myth."

Johnny scoffed, putting his arm around you as he dared to steal a quick look. "You're not scared?"

"Of a landscape where you can see for miles?" You asked with a scoff and shake of your head. "No."

A soft howl in the distance grabbed your attention, but you assumed it was just a local out with his dog and nothing else; you brought your attention back to Johnny, smiling at him as you watched the silver stars glitter in his eyes.

Your love, your darling; you loved him for such a long lonely time before he admitted he felt the same. Six years later, and you were glad that it had gone by so slowly; to still be his and to know that he was still yours meant everything.

But when he gently kissed you and hummed, breaking away from you, you immediately missed him.

"I need a whizz," he admitted. "I'll be right back, just wait here."

You breathed out a sigh of relief as you nodded, sitting down as he wandered off without you; you didn't think anything of it as he disappeared behind a large cluster of rocks. You figured he just drank too much in too short a time.

Nothing new. You turned your attention to a lonely daffodil, smiling as you traced its bright yellow petals. If you were ever going to marry him, you would want daffodils at the wedding.

Johnny was just finishing up, tugging his zipper up as he looked around for a moment, admiring the view across the moors; they were certainly beautiful, he couldn't understand why the locals were so against people walking across them at night. Odd.

He was about to turn around and head back to you, when suddenly, he was knocked to the ground; gnashing and snarling teeth met thin flesh, something like a large blade sinking into his face and his chest. Blood. So much blood.

Garbled and gargled, Johnny screamed as he thrashed around, trying to hit and kick and punch and shove whatever he could get his hands on. But it was too fast, and Johnny was losing too much blood as he became weaker and weaker, succumbing to the bites and scratches.

"Johnny!" You screamed, bounding over as quickly as you could. But it was too late. The beast, whatever it was, had disappeared, and left Johnny to die on the moors.

You screamed and yowled, howled and moaned, until the locals from the pub found you; they were kind enough, getting Johnny an ambulance and insisting that you had to go with him; the paramedics did their best to stabilise him, but he had lost so much blood.

They said they doubted he would wake up before the end of the week. You refused to leave him. The doctors had to get you a chair to sit next to his bed, but they understood; they had seen it before, how the boyfriend wouldn't leave.

The police interviewed you, but you couldn't tell them much; one minute, Johnny was going for a quick piss behind a rock, the next, he was screaming and there was something seemingly shredding him to pieces. They marked it down as an animal attack; plenty of moors had a record for it, everybody in the world knew about the Bodmin moor and the creature that lurked there.

It wasn't unheard of. Kuai Liang and Bi-Han visited you a few times, just to make sure that you were eating and drinking; Kenshi checked in as often as he could, same with Kung Lao and Raiden.

It took six weeks.

When you opened the curtains, Johnny groaned, and turned onto his side.

"It's too early, baby, five more minutes."

You smiled, sitting beside his legs and gently laying your hand on his thigh. "How you feeling, Hollywood?"

He glared at you, but then smiled sweetly. "Well, I can't complain about the view…"

"You hungry?" You asked. "Thirsty?"

Johnny shook his head, still a little bit weak.

It took another eight days before he was ready to go home, although the doctors warned against air travel for another two weeks at least, so you rented out the cottage in Llanfaintypridd and told them that you would rent it until Johnny was well enough to go back to Hollywood; they wouldn't say no to the extra cash.

But when you first brought him home, you realised that you didn't have any food in the fridge, and although it was already the evening, you knew you had to do something. With Johnny sitting on the sofa and reading a book, you smiled as you grabbed your keys.

"I'm gonna go get us some food," you told him softly. "You gonna be alright?"

Johnny nodded, grinning. "I'll be fine - don't you remember I do my own stunts?"

You rolled your eyes fondly, and scoffed as you reluctantly left him. He turned back to his book, but before he could finish the page, he suddenly dropped it; a sharp, stabbing pain in his head.

"Fuck!"

He grabbed his temples, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as he whimpered softly; but it only grew worse, making him grip his hair tightly as he stood up.

His skin was on fire.

He wasn't sure what was coming over him as he tore off his shirt, exposing his toned chest and the tattoo of his own name across it just beneath his collarbone.

"Fuck!"

He grabbed the waistband of his jogging bottoms, and hastily tore them off, leaving him naked as he dropped to his knees, cradling his head in his hands.

His bones were squirming, something licking at the underside of his skin. Something was digging through his gums.

He wanted to keel over, to give up and give into the pain and hope that it ended soon; but it didn't. No.

The flesh of the backs and palms of his hands wobbled and rippled, as if flicked from the inside, and as he stared at them, he could only whimper as he held back a sob.

Agony, white hot agony.

Johnny watched in disbelief and shock from the pain as his hands stretched. Elongated palms, his bones pulling against themselves as they tried not to snap under the tension. He could feel the bones in his fingers as they squirmed and sunk in on themselves, leaving fat and upward pointing knuckles that made him flinch when the air hit them.

Sobbing, Johnny collapsed onto his side, but when he tried to pull his knees up to his chest, he could only feel them bend and snap so that they were facing the wrong way. Johnny couldn't even make a sound, silently sobbing as he tried to take his mind from the pain; to think of you and how he had planned to propose that night on the moor.

He looked mangled.

His limbs were too long, his hips too narrow, his skull pointed near the middle of the back, his nose sunken and rounded. His mouth… oh, fuck, his mouth was on fire.

His jaw broken and shattered, itching as a new set of teeth slowly inched down and pushed out the previous ones; blood dripping from his gums thickly, sticky from saliva. He couldn't even cry anymore, the tears dry as he heaved and let bile push its way up, burning his throat before it dribbled and dripped from his mouth.

Why did it feel like he had fleas under his skin?

Why did it fucking feel like they were slowly digging and scurrying through his skin?

Fuck.

Johnny thought he was dying. Lying there limp and lifeless, his breath hot as it streamed from a mouth that was too long to be human. A cold, wet nose that wasn't his own sitting at the end of it.

He couldn't even speak, only garbled and gargled whimpers that sounded too eerily like human speech yet too animalistic all the same. For a moment, Johnny laid there with only one thought: Is it all in my head? Am I dreaming? I must be…

He wasn't sure how long he had been laid there, even a split second felt like a thousand hours, but when the door opened, he dared to raise his head weakly, his neck snapping loudly and making him whimper before he shuddered and put it back down again.

You paused, dropping the plastic Tesco bag before diving down at his side, your hand on his shoulder. "Johnny? Johnny, what the fuck happened?"

Johnny glared at you, wondering how you were so calm. Maybe it was all in his head.

You let out a shaky breath, hand trembling as you grabbed your phone and pulled up a number. Johnny heard two rings, then static. "Kenshi? Kenshi, can you hear me?"

"Yes. Is everything okay?"

"It's Johnny," you explained frantically, "get Liu Kang to get his arse down here now."

"What is it?" Even Kenshi sounded scared.

"Johnny isn't human," you replied, voice shaking and breaking. "He's not… I went to the shops and-"

"Liu Kang said he'll be ten minutes," Kenshi told you softly. "Hold tight."

"Tell him to hurry!" You pleaded. "Please, Kenshi! Johnny needs help!"

Gently, you pulled Johnny's mangled and canine head onto your lap, softly cradling him as you swallowed thickly. "It's alright, Hollywood, it's alright. Liu Kang is gonna get here and he'll… he'll know what to do! Yeah… he'll, he'll know what to do."

Johnny looked at you, wishing that there was some way he could reassure you; he might have been in utter fucking agony, wishing that he had died just so that he didn't have to deal with the sharp ache all over his body, but he hated seeing you panic over him, he really did.

Maybe once Liu Kang fixed him, he could try and propose again.

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virgo-dream · 2 years ago

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tonight's Hob headcanon: he has a truly atrocious singing voice. unfortunately for everyone around him, he also loves to sing. there's a biweekly karaoke night at the New Inn (the staff talked him down from a weekly event for the sake of their eardrums) and people in the know attend solely to listen to Hob sing Queen's "Don't Stop Me Now" SO badly that it should, frankly, be against the law.

the exception to this is in the Dreaming, where Hob's singing voice matches what he hears in his head, where the passion and the feeling that he puts into it are discernible by others and not just himself.

the result of this mismatch is that Dream has no idea what Hob's singing sounds like in the waking world until he happens to drop by the New Inn on karaoke night and he and Matthew both get their faces absolutely blown off by Hob's godawful take on "You've Got A Friend In Me."

xo @hardly-an-escape

@hardly-an-escape oooo thank you for this!!! as a singer myself, this is my biggest nightmare lol but knowing Hob, I think he probably doesn't care what others think! he'll sing his big heart out and whoever doesn't wanna listen can plug their sour ears lol but also....... you know how every thought can be made into a sad hurt/comfort fluff thought? well..........

Dream had avoided music for as long as he could remember. It is hard to escape something that is so present in the mind of dreamers, that plays in the imaginary background of every argument, every victory, every kiss and every loss. Still, he avoided music, because no voice could ever sound as sweet as the one he'd lost far too soon, the only one he wished he could hear sing again.

Still, it didn't mean he could ban people from dreaming of music, because it would be largely unethical of him, and if Dream took one thing seriously (not to say he didn't take all things seriously, but one clearly above all) it was his work. He would not keep dreamers from creating music in their slumber, but he would also not engage with those minds. They were loud enough on their own, and if he had to bring himself any closer to them than he was strictly required to... well, that would certainly overwhelm him to the point of making the entire Dreaming completely devoid of sound for a while.

There was one mind that he'd never refuse a visit to, and that was Hob Gadling's very loud, very musical sleeping brain.

The first time Dream heard Hob sing, it made him cry on the spot.

Tears just rolled down his pale cheeks, and he felt so vulnerable that when Hob noticed his presence, all Dream could do was say "this dream is over" and disappear from the Waking for a week. When they did meet again, Hob apologised profusely for upsetting him, even though he didn't know what had caused Dream so much distress, and only then did he notice that it wasn't Hob's fault, how could it be?

They sat together in silence in Hob's living room after Dream told him of Orpheus' divine talents, of his beauty and his music, of the tragedy of his death and the cowardice of his father, if Dream could even call himself Orpheus' father, and not his biggest detractor, a traitor in the face of love that now he knew he'd do the same to recover.

Hob kissed the tears away from Dream's cheeks, and promised to not sing again. Dream just shook his head, and said "Do not deny yourself the joy of music, for I once too knew it and reveled in it."

As their relationship progressed, Dream allowed Hob more agency in the Dreaming. They'd meet every night, sit together in the library, watch the magical sunsets of the Realm of Dreams and Nightmares, and Hob would sing him lullabies and love songs, kiss the tears away from Dream's cheeks much like he'd done that first time, and let the salty taste of them accompany his lips down to Dream's own.

Dream loved to hear Hob sing. He was talented beyond belief, and it felt like a curse lifted, a gift from the Creator themselves bestowed upon a very undeserving Dream of The Endless, to love one who sang as sweetly as a songbird. Dream began to enjoy music again, to actively seek it out. He'd buy Hob records in the Waking, or pluck brand new compositions from Hob's favourite (living) musicians to gift Hob in the Dreaming, only to hear Hob's rendition of his own favourite tunes. Anything could sound good in that voice. It was the voice that made the music bearable.

That was, until one Christmas party at the New Inn.

Hob (and everyone else, really) had already downed quite a few drinks. Dream was a little tipsy himself, which wasn't entirely uncommon, but was very confused by Hob's hesitance to join his friends, who were all belting out to, with questionable skill, even more questionable music. "I can sing to you later, duck." "I really shouldn't." "no one likes actual singers doing karaoke". Dream was not convinced. In fact, he had the feeling Hob was lying to him.

"do not deny yourself the joy of music, for I have now found it again through you, and do not wish to lose it again."

And so, Hob had no choice but to sing.

He walked up to the little makeshift stage they had crafted specially for the Chirstmas get together, grabbing the microphone like he was on his way to being hanged for shagging the prince of England. He found a song that he was sure he wouldn't completely butcher, and as all of his friends cheered him on, and Dream smiled one of his rare smiles saved only for Hob's eyes, he let out a sigh.

"...y..YooUuu'vE GooT A FrrieeenD IN Meee."

Dream.

"...yOU'Ve got a... f..frIEND In mEEeee..."

Dream wasn't sure what exactly he was feeling.

He only then understood Hob's hesitance, the way his face seemed to scrunch up in painful agony as he belted out the notes, afraid of disappointing Dream. Matthew was perched on his shoulder, trying his best not to let out a very human laugh out, hiding his beak against the lapel of Dream's trenchcoat. He almost wanted to laugh, but not at Hob, never at him. At the situation. At the voice Hob's brain had crafted only for Dream's ears. At how now, because of Dream, Hob felt uncomfortable with his own skills.

"t..thERE Isn'T A-AnytHINg I WOuldn't dOOoo f-fOR YooU.."

So Dream stood from his seat, to the surprise of Matthew and of all others in attendance, and joined Hob on stage. He grabbed the other microphone, showing Hob a gentle smile, before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. And so, his voice soared out of the speakers, a full, near baritone croon, but Hob knew it was meant only for him.

"Some other folks might be A little bit smarter than I am Bigger and stronger too Maybe But none of them will ever love you The way I do It's me and you, boy."

Dream kissed Hob again, to the sound of aaaws and cheering and clapping. "I'll love to hear you sing later when we're in bed." He whispered into Hob's ear, but perhaps a little too close to the microphone. Perhaps, he'd done it on purpose.

And that's the story of how Dream of The Endless got his singing voice back. A true Christmas Miracle, if you ask Hob.

#hardly-an-escape #thank u for this beautiful hc!!!#hope u enjoy this bit of writing :)#virgo dream writes #dreamling #hob x dream #hob x morpheus #dream of the endless #hob gadling #the sandman fanfic #dreamling fanfic #ask fic

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ladycatofwinterfell · 2 years ago

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Sweet as cake

Summary: Ned surprises his wife with lemon cakes

Did someone say fluff? Because this is just that and nothing else

It had seemed like a stupid thing, but he knew every worried thought was worth it when he saw the light in her eyes. That such a small thing could bring so much happiness, it was strange. Though at least she was happy so that did not matter.

“You sent for lemons?” she asked, her voice a bit higher than usual.

Ned had never seen her smile as wide as she did when she watched the lemon cakes sitting on the table.

“I did.”

“For me?”

“For you.”

Last time she had been with child she had eaten every cake she could get her hands on and lemon cakes had been her favourite. And lately Ned had noticed her appetite for sweet things increasing as she grew rounder around the middle and so had decided he might as well secure the supply. As well as make sure she could have what she liked best.

“Oh Ned, you’ll make me weep.”

She grabbed his face and forced his head down, pressing a kiss to his cheek and then on to his lips. It was too quick for him to return it, he had barely realised what she was doing before she had turned back to the plate of cakes standing on the table before them.

“This really was not necessary, but thank you, my love” she said.

By the end of the sentence she had already taken a large bite out of a cake. Ned could only stand there and smile as he watched her close her eyes and hum with contentment. He wondered if there was a greater joy than the one in him as he knew he had made his wife so very happy.

Once she opened her eyes she seemed to realise he hadn’t touched the plate.

“Take one!”

“Oh no, they’re for you” he responded.

Ned had never been particularly fond of cakes and similar treats, the sweetness was not at all something that appealed to him.

Before he knew it she had one right under his nose.

“Take a bite.”

Who was he to refuse that?

It wasn’t bad at all, the slightly sour sweetness was a pleasant taste, but he wouldn’t have wanted much of it. Not that he would have been able to take another bite as Catelyn had finished the rest of it while she looked at him with glowing eyes.

“It was good” he said, nodding.

“So good!”

Somehow Catelyn managed to fit an entire cake into her mouth, giving her a striking resemblance to a squirrel.

“My beautiful lady” Ned chuckled.

He leaned down and kissed her nose before turning to pour himself a cup of wine.

“Your round and happy lady” Catelyn managed to get out after chewing for a bit.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Ned went to sit on the furs they had placed in front of the hearth. She followed, carrying the plate of cakes and placing it in front of them.

“I feel like a child” she sighed as she arranged her skirts around her. “But also I have been wanting these for weeks.”

“And yet you didn’t ask for it.”

“The cost and work required didn’t seem justified when I considered that my only reason is that I’m with child and always hungry for everything sweet.”

Had their coffins been empty and their people starving it would have been an issue, but as it was they had means to fill their castle with everything required to make her sweets.

Ned reached out with his free hand and ran it through her hair. When she was with child it was even thicker and more lustrous, he thought more of it than was reasonable. A large part of his time was spent thinking about when he could touch it again.

“That is not an issue as of now” he told her.

“Once winter comes I will kick you out of my bed because if you get me with child and I can’t have whatever food I wish I will go mad” she informed him in turn.

“Then I’m very happy for that summer has yet to end.”

She moved closer to him and he welcomed her with open arms, let her lean against him. She was warm and soft and lovely. The flickering light from the fire in the hearth gave her a wonderful glow.

“Not more than I, dearest husband.”

She turned her face up and kissed him. He could taste the lemon cakes on her lips, feel how she smiled.

“Had I not already been with child I would have commanded you to put one in me now” she mumbled as they parted. “But that is already done so I will just eat my cakes.”

“Do so” he chuckled.

“Oh nothing will stop me” she said and took another bite of a cake.

Never had a woman shoving more cake into her mouth than could possibly fit been so endearing.

#catelyn stark #catelyn tully #ned stark #ned x cat #my fic #fluff my dear fellow nedcat shippers FLUFF

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madchild-dennis · 2 years ago

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I STILL Cry

Once reminded, or have to sleep and God brings it back up (cause I could care LESS), I am going to cry. Why? Not because of love. THE FUCK NOT. It's the fuckery that came and will come with it because

WHY GOD WON'T FUCKING LET UP.

Like I said BELOW:

I WILL NOT:

Pray

fast

inquiry

help

sacrifice

or do anything specific for him

THE FUCK NOT.

I choose to STOP speaking in tongs nor PRAY in the spirit because right after, God also redirect the source/solution is FUCKING RAHEEM. SO NO. Not even the our father prayer. I was told to pray it a few weeks ago and guess what, God took it as praying in the spirit and once again direct it back to that BITCH.

I started to write a whole post about it and stopped:

for almost 2 FUCKING YEARS I've:

suffered

been hunted

attacked by many (including him and his fucking mother as well)

called mentally ill

bullied by his gf's ppl

homeless

scorned

ridiculed

nearly raped

judged

probed, medicated and injected

SUFFERED

MUCH MUCH MORE

For some promises that include him. I REFUSE TO ACCEPT THAT GOD IS STILL SAYING HIM.

Clearly, I have NO FUCKING CHOICE IN THE MATTER. HENCE CRYING

I AM TIRED OF THIS SHIT AND HIM

No one understand, no one cares.

Even the person couldn't believe that it was me and my story God led her to be in a spiritual warfare for. I had to be digging up old messages and shit to show that the girl name is Samantha,. The name God led her to as the source of the witchcraft. As you can see below:

(I don't care if she's clout chasing. I could care less about her actually)

Someone said when I showed her profile that she's, fat, ugly or sour. I don't watch people's weight nor care about that. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I've never been near her to know if she smells.

I just know we are NOT the same in the simple fact of confidence, charisma, I know how to PROPERLY HANDLE MY SHIT, and the simple fact that I DO NOT CARE. I do NOT CARE what others think of me or how I do things.

In fact I do NOT paint myself as some woman of God. I actually a very tortured woman who feels is WRONGED BY A LYING GOD, but giving him a chance to prove 'him'self.

BUT SHE prides herself in that identity, even IF she dabbles in witch craft (obeah/tying). Which is where God has this unquenchable anger towards her and WILL DESTROY HER AND HER WHOLE FAMILY FOR IT. Especially because it's forcing someone to be with her from her CLEAR obsession, her family's choice to encourage or fuel it, the LIES and trying to hurt/harm/kill me.

You don't have to believe me. Nor the fact that this woman who say she was led by the Holy spirit to speak in tongue, free someone from the demonic ties and heard God say her name. (She doesn't want to make a video with me out of fear of loosing her job. Which is whatever people will still choose NOT to believe even with a video)

I'M SO OVER ALL THIS SHIT!!!!

ONE THING I WILL NEVER DO:

Force, convince or do anything to get someone to be with me or stay with me.

I work by this rule: If I have to force theme, to be with me, I will have to keep doing it to keep them. I don't have the time nor energy to do that, PLUS THAT"S SELF-HATE. I LOVE MYSELF TOO MUCH to do that shit. So I will choose to be with someone who wants to freely be with me, and LOVES me like or better than I love me.

WHICH IS WHY I FUCKING HATE GOD!!!!

THAT BITCH CHOSE AND CONTINUE TO Choose. I DO NOT CARE if he was witch crafted.

IF HE WANTED ME HE WOULD FIGHT TO BE WITH ME.

That weak ass afraid bitch won't do shit. The same person who did the spiritual warfare said, if he wants to be free, HE HAS TO CHOOSE IT. HE HAS TO FIGHT IT.

Thats why I won't fight or do shit for him.

The ONLY way I will is AFTER HE DOES ALL I REQUIRE.

Till then, that bitch can nyam shit with his bitch.

MY ANGER IS WITH GOD and what He's going to keep doing behind my back.

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foreverdolly · 2 years ago

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baby love | dom!austin butler x shy!reader

requested by a sweet nonnie. i made it extra filthy for you.

summary: you've gained some “relationship” weight since you and austin first started dating, and you find yourself growing more and more self conscious as time goes on. austin takes his time letting you know just how beautiful he finds you.

pairings: austin butler x reader

word count: 3,678

warnings/notes: austin is a dom and absolutely worships you, established relationship, rough sex, hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, overstimulation, it's cute though i swear. also wanted to quickly let you all know that you are beautiful no matter what size you are. so this goes out to my curvy/skinny-chubby babes. as someone that has been recovering from an ED for four years, my inbox is always open. it was extremely hard to watch my body change as i got healthy, so this one really hit home for me while writing it. much love.

masterlist | requests are currently open for business !

“I’m being serious, Austin.” You called out to him from the bathroom, tossing the bath towel onto the countertop so that you could get a better look at your figure. Whoever says that it was healthy for females to gain relationship weight when they feel happy and stable is an asshole. An absolute dick. Just six months ago you had been in the best shape of your life. You had been attending hot yoga three times a week and even started going to a personal trainer. You were positive that your taught body and trim waistline was one of the things that originally attracted Austin to you. You weren’t a celebrity. Far from it- you were just an artist who had been blessed enough to make it semi-big in California just a few years before the two of you met through mutual friends.

Sure, you were talented and absolutely hilarious, but so were a hell of a lot of other girls that would jump at the chance to date your boyfriend. Any time you brought up diets or started messaging your old gym buddies, Austin was quick to dismiss it. “You don’t need it.” or your personal favorite, “You’ve never been healthier, baby.” You grabbed at your stomach, grimacing as you realized just how much you must have gained. Twenty pounds? No. . . more like thirty or forty, if you were being honest with yourself. You had a scale somewhere in your shared apartment, but you were too scared to step on it. You dealt with body image issues all throughout high school, and you absolutely refused to go through anything similar again.

“You’re gorgeous, now come out here. I’m going to eat all the popcorn without you.” You grumbled under your breath as you shrugged on your thin white tank top and an oversized pair of his boxers, practically throwing the bathroom door open. He seemed taken aback by your sudden change in mood, noticing the way you were glaring so opening at him. “You go ahead and do that. I obviously don’t need anything else to eat today.” He gave you a once over, taking in your wet hair and sour disposition. Maybe he hadn’t thought that you were really this sad about it, because he was quick to deposit the large snack bowl onto the bedside table along with the remote control. He gave the spot beside him on the bed an eager pat, shooting you a small smile. You weren’t budging from your spot though. Seeing yourself in the mirror just a few seconds ago had shattered just about every bit of self confidence you had left. He let out a small sigh, leaning back against the headboard for a couple of seconds before leaning forward on the bed, moving his finger in a ‘come hither’ motion. You must have been an easy one to crack because you found yourself shuffling over to the bed. The second that you were close enough to him he pounced, dragging you onto the mattress with an ease that still shocked you.

“Do you want me to die of heart failure from eating so much butter by myself? Cause’ I’ll do it. I’ll eat that entire bowl and then make sure to write you out of my will.” Your lips twitched upwards into a small smile for a second, Austin watching you with a wide grin as he waited for your mood to change. It always did whenever you were on this sort of subject. He’d do whatever he could to assure you that you were beautiful, and then find some way to cheer you up- only this time it wasn’t working. Your bottom lip began to quiver, your eyes filling with tears. “Oh. . . Oh, my poor baby.” He cooed, wrapping his arms around you tightly and pulling you into his lap. You moved your legs to straddle him, sniffling softly against his neck as you tried to keep the tears to a minimum. They just kept coming though.

“I’m not pretty anymore. . . what if-” you swallowed back a loud sob, whimpering softly before you were finally able to get the rest of the words out. “W-What if you leave me?” Austin was peppering the side of your wet head with kisses. He hated seeing you upset in any way. It made his chest ache and his own anxiety act up.

How had he not seen this before? How could he not tell how serious this was to you? He had always tried to brush it off with humor and measly compliments, but never took the time to really assure you that he wasn’t ever going anywhere. An immense guilt rushed over him, so sudden and heavy that his arms began to quiver as they squeezed you even tighter. “Angel,” He mumbled against your wet hair. “You’re the light of my life. I loved you when you were counting calories, and I love you now. . . but baby, you’re beautiful like this. I know it probably won’t mean anything coming from me, but I truly don’t think you’ve ever looked this healthy before.” You pulled back, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand before you motioned to your stomach exasperatedly.

He let out a humorless smile, pulling up your shirt so that he could place one of his large, warm hands against your skin. “You’re soft, and cute, and way better to cuddle. I’m a skeleton, and I used to be able to feel our bones clattering together.” This made you laugh. Your shoulders shook with it, your adorable nose scrunching up in that delectable way that he loved so much. “When I look at you I see love. I see a potential family- I see forever. I don’t see anything undesirable in the slightest, alright? I promise you. Sometimes I’m scared that you’re going to leave me.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to wrap your brain around where he could have gotten that crazy idea.

“I drool when I sleep, we have to get all of my pants tailored because my legs are freakishly long, i’m lactose intolerant and you love cheese,” God, he knew you so well. “I smack my gum, I drive too fast and scare the shit out of you most of the time, and I jump and try to shield my eyes when you force me to watch horror movies.” Your jaw dropped and you couldn’t help but throw your arms up in the air in disbelief.

“But I love all those things. You’re adorable.” Austin gave you a look, and you instantly felt like an idiot.

“Oh. . .” You licked your lips, moving to pinch the bridge of your nose. “Oh.” Sure, you weren’t everybody's cup of tea, but neither was he. You happened to be his favorite flavor though. People instantly saw him as this glamorous celebrity and wanted to be with him, all without knowing what he was like behind doors. Austin always thought you were beautiful. Whether your hair was frizzy because of the weather, or you had a stress pimple on your forehead- he adored you. Absolutely and totally. Everybody’s weight fluctuates, and so what?

His fingers began to lazily rub your hips through the cotton boxers, flashing you a lazy smile. “Yeah- ‘oh’ is right.” His voice had lowered an octave, his eyes suddenly locked on you and dripping with an unspoken suggestion.

You were always in a state of awe whenever you were around him. He always went out of his way to shower you with romantic gestures. You loved him with a ferocity that often destroyed other adult’s lives. It frightened you sometimes. It was as though Austin had possessed you, body and soul. He had hollowed out a place for himself deep inside your chest and made a home there.

You loved it especially when his blue eyes became lidded, his pale lashes catching the light like spun gold. It was often impossible to keep your hands off of him, so you never did. You didn’t fight those urges and neither did Austin. You two were constantly brushing against one another, even if it was just a chaste kiss or a quick brush of the hand- just like he was doing right now. He was taking his time with you, rubbing his thumb against your hips, slowly making his way upwards towards your chest. He loved your tits; told you all the time. Even as the months passed by, you could still see the excitement flash in his eyes whenever you were laid bare in front of him. Almost as though he couldn’t believe that you were real. That you were letting him touch you in such a debased way. He feasted upon your flesh hungrily whenever you let him, which was thankfully quite often.

You knew what he wanted the second those lashes began to flutter down, his eyes practically pinning you down. You still found it hard to breathe when he looked at you like that. You were still seated on his lap, and ever so slowly you began putting more of your weight on him, feeling that he was already hard. Ever so slowly you lifted back up, eyes flickering down so that you could get a good look at him. He had deviously thrown on the gray pair of sweatpants that he knew that you loved so much. It was probably because you could see his cock so well through them, even beneath all of the layers. “This is all you.” He mumbled under his breath, tilting his head to the side slightly as he watched you. He was never satisfied as far as you were concerned. He wished, some days, that he could somehow be absorbed into you- to claw his way under your skin. He loved you so much that it was maddening.

“Touch it,” His voice shook as he felt your dainty fingers brush up his thighs. “It’s yours.” You were tentative with your touches at first, almost hesitant. You felt better than you did ten minutes ago, but the self confidence issues were still there. You knew that you weren’t unattractive. You had a gorgeous face and a bright smile that lit up your eyes. Men still turned their heads to look at you when you walked down the street, and just yesterday a kid that must have still been in college tried to ask you for your number. That wasn’t the point though, because deep down there was a part of you that felt as though you weren’t worthy. Austin Butler was a Greek god of a man, and had a heart of gold.

Even after the endless laughs, the long nights spent talking, and the days spent curled up in each other’s arms, you still felt like at any moment he might walk out the door. You knew it was just a little extra baby fat, but it didn’t stop you from overthinking. Austin noticed your hesitance. He saw the conflict brewing in your eyes, like heavy clouds gathering just before a storm. He freed one of his hands from their spot on your soft skin, taking your hand in his and pressing it against himself. “Only you,” He placed a wet kiss to the underside of your jaw. “Always you.” And you melted. How could you not? Because he was right. No one could make him laugh as hard as you could. No one knew him- all of him- quite like you did, and you were certain that they never would. Nobody had ever taken the time to truly understand who Austin was, inside and out.

You were a balm to soothe the ache. You fulfilled him. Completed him.

He pressed his lips against the side of your head, his hand moving from the underside of your rips to your back as you began to put more pressure against him. You continued rubbing him through his pants, your fingers feeling along each divot and ridge of his length. The blonde let you know just how much he appreciated your touch, his low moans vibrating in his chest. “This tank top is killing me.” He mumbled, pulling back so that he could look down at you. It was an old tank top that you refused to wear in public anymore. Over time it had worn down to the point of practically being threadbare. It hadn’t been your intention to get him worked up like this, but it was certainly a plus.

He could see your entire chest through the white fabric. He ran his pointer finger over one of your nipples, smiling as he watched it reactively harden into a small peak. He switched over to the other side, his blue eyes flickering up to meet your eyes. He knew that eye contact during times like this did something to you. He’d be carrying out the dirtiest, most lewd acts, all while his lips are upturned into a smug little smile; eyes bright blue and boring into yours. You let out a small gasp, and that smile of his widened into a grin. “You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” You moved your hand away from his front, instead opting to work him up by pressing your core against him. You slowly began rocking your hips back and forth, careful not to put too much pressure.

You could be quite the tease when you wanted to be. Right now you wanted to work him up into a damn near frenzy. He’d be rougher with you that way.

“Yeah?” You questioned breathlessly, and his eyes did that thing. You watched in real time as his pupils began to dilate. “Yeah.” He agreed, nodding his head as he cupped your breasts in his large hand. He gave it a squeeze, rolling your pebbled nipple between his fingers tightly, nearly to the point of pain. Your hips jerked forward as you let out a hiss. His eyes widened at the added pressure to the friction, a breathy groan escaping his lips. “You wanna know something?” His tongue darted out to lick his dry lips, gathering up the fabric of your tank top so that he could finally feel your bare skin. “You may think that you look big, but look at how tiny you are compared to me. Hmm?” His hand slid up from your sternum to your throat, your breath getting caught there. He was over six feet tall, and his hand was the size of your head. No matter how big you might have gotten, the man was a giant compared to your stature. He added pressure to his thumb, feeling your pulse as he cut off a bit of the blood flow. Your eyes flickered open, needing to see his face as he moved his free hand down to your hip, grinding your own hips against him now. You didn’t stop him. You couldn’t tease him anymore. You’d take anything he gave you.

His eyes were practically rolling back in his head at the mere look on your face. “Keep looking at me with those big eyes like that and I might cum just from this.” The friction felt good, his length sliding along your core, stimulating you- but it wasn’t enough. You needed more. “Please.” You choked out, starting to get light headed. He tightened his hold on your throat to the point that you were beginning to see stars. He continued dragging your hips back and forth against him, moving his own hips languidly. “You’re such a greedy little thing, huh?” You were, you were, you were. Your lips parted, your head starting to tilt back so that you could stare at the ceiling. You needed something to look at that wasn’t him- because sometimes his gaze got to be too much. When he looked at you like that- like you were the only thing in the world that mattered- you came undone too quickly. “Do you feel how beautiful I think you are?” You did. He was as hard as stone beneath you. The second you nodded he had you pushed down, your back against the mattress and the side of your face pressed against your white duvet. His hand slowly moved up higher on your throat until his fingers pressed against your lips, pulling the soft skin down until they could slip into the warmth of your mouth. You accepted them gladly, your tongue gently lapping against the saltiness of his skin.

Ever so slowly he removed his hand from your throat, and you took deep gulps of air, your limbs already trembling, your core wet and aching for him.

He was going to fuck you now. He couldn’t wait any longer. He slipped his shirt off in a second flat, tossing it down on the ground next to the bed somewhere. His pants came off next, and you followed suit, kicking the boxers off as fast as you could. You were a shaky, needy mess. You weren’t quite sure how he always managed to work you up like this, but he did. You started to take off your tank top as well, but he stopped you. “Leave it.” And so you did. Austin slipped into you like he was possessed, giving you absolutely no time to adjust. You cried out, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as he began fucking into you, starting at a near brutal pace. He used one hand to support himself against the bed, and the other went straight to the tank top, gathering it up his fist before pulling it upwards, keeping his hand firmly planted against your sternum. He watched your tits bounce as he fucked you, sucking in deep breaths as he listened to your whimpers and cries.

You loved being able to look at him like this. His expressions were art. He’d suck his bottom lip into his mouth, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he watched you intently. His eyes were all over you. Your face, your tits, and then down to where the two of you connected. He had an odd fascination with watching himself fuck you. He loved it. Thought it was fucking adorable.

It felt good- so good like this- but you wanted more. You wanted to feel him deeper. “B-Behind.” You could barely speak. You found it hard to form words, but he understood. He nodded, panting hard as he pulled out of you. You started to sit up, but he grabbed your hips like you weighed nothing, flipping you over into your stomach. Your ass was in the air in a second, him using his knees to nudge your legs apart so that he could fit himself between them. “You’re the one that got me this worked up,” His voice was low, almost guttural as he spoke to you. He slipped inside of you a little slower this time, speaking through clenched teeth. “So you’re going to be a good girl and take it.”

And you could feel every inch of him.

Every. Single. Inch.

He fucked you at the same relentless pace. He was hitting all of the right places from this angle, his hips slapping against your ass. You couldn’t help but scream into the blanket, the sound coming out muffled. He must not have liked that, because he gripped you by the hair, wrapping it around his wrist and yanking your head up. “I want to hear.” And so you let him hear.

You almost couldn’t take it- he was practically attacking you at this point, his hips snapping forward, his moans loud and unabashed as he watched your skin slapping against his. He gave your hair another yank, pain tearing through your scalp but it felt good. Your walls clamped down around him, causing him to let out a low cry of his own. His free hand moved from your hip to slide along your stomach, searching for your core. “Don’t. Don’t.” You tried to shake your head, knowing that any extra stimulation would be too much, but of course he did it anyway.

Austin thought you looked pretty all the time, but you were the most irresistible when you were squirming beneath him.

His fingers pressed against your clit, rubbing you in tight circles. After months of nonstop exploration, he knew exactly how to touch you. He knew just how to work you up, and so he did. You couldn’t keep yourself from cumming. Couldn’t stop it.

“God damn, baby.” He groaned from above you, his hips snapping into your fluttering core. You were crying now, and you weren’t sure if it was because your hair was being pulled or if the pleasure was just too much. It was probably both.

Austin rode your quivering form through your orgasm, working you to the point of overstimulation. You were no longer just fluttering around him but damn near spasming, and that was when he couldn’t hold his own release off anymore. He released your hair, his large hand pressing your face into the blankets as he pumped into you. “Fuck.” He spat out, panting hard as he filled you to the brim. Only after he was sure that he had fucked every last drop into you did he slowly pull out.

He was instantly pulling you against him. He pet your hair as he began to kiss every inch of your face. “You did so good, baby.” He cooed, nuzzling his nose into your now partially dry hair. He breathed you in, eyes fluttering shut as he enjoyed the after-sex bliss. “I love you so much.” You knew that he did. You could feel the love radiating off of him and into you. It was such a warm feeling. “My beautiful baby.”

The two of you spent the rest of the night curled up in bed, watching shitty Kung-Fu movies and laughing your asses off at the criminally bad special effects.

Oh- and you two split the popcorn. With extra butter and salt. Just the way the two of you liked it.

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raggaraddy · 3 years ago

Note

Can you please do a yandere hyung line reaction to MC being jealous and tries to hide it ( For jin could you please make it as his wife has come back for a short holiday or something)

A/N: My brain did not want to do the writing thing the last couple of days, but I got there. I think these stories are good? but somehow they all ended up a bit soft. I hope you like them though 🤞 because it was a great request! Thank you 💜💜💜

@blacksnow160

Summary: Hyung line reaction when you get jealous.

Trigger warning: Smut, violence, blood-drinking, murder, abuse, yandere themes.

Alpha! Namjoon

Normally you didn't consider yourself clingy. You enjoyed your personal space and your time alone. But at the same time, you've also become accustomed to Namjoon dropping everything to take care of you. This entire week though, he's been preoccupied with a territorial issue, and the last 3 nights he hasn't even come to bed.

Leaving you feeling a little discarded, to say the least.

Nevertheless, you're a mature adult, and you were able to let it go with the knowledge that Namjoon is an Alpha who has responsibilities and knowing that he would still rather be with you.

It is, however, a comfort that you have trouble holding on to whenever you see the new girl around him. It's not like you're jealous. It's just that she doesn't seem to know how to behave respectfully or appropriately around Namjoon. She always stands too close or looks at him a bit too much, and she's way too touchy. Only his elbow, arm, or shoulder. But it's like, get your fucking hands off him.

Rationally, you know Joon is your mate and you own his heart, mind, and body. Still, it doesn't stop you from tossing restlessly, laying in bed at 2 am, once again alone. The two things added together making you feeling sour. Feeling sick of being sent away while this other girl gets to stick around being way too familiar with your Boyfriend.

Coming downstairs in your pyjamas, you weave in among the wolves working your way to Namjoon. Standing at the dining table, looking over a mess of paper, he notices you right away a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

"Y/n, what are you doing up?"He asks, checking his watch.

There she is again, right next to him. Her hand casually coming off his shoulder when she sees you.

"It's late. Go back to bed, Beautiful." he coos.

You ignore his instruction. Wrapping to his side by pushing yourself between him and this girl, creating space for yourself with a not-so-subtle shoving of your elbow into her arm. Smiling up at him sweetly as he accepts your presence, hugging you tightly.

"We're going to be busy most of the night. You should go to bed." he leans down to whisper, his breath tickling your ear. He's trying not to draw the focus from the rest of the table into your personal discussion.

"I'll go up when you come with me." You whisper back.

"It's going to be a few more hours still baby." He sighs, seeming frustrated with the circumstances.

"Then I'm staying here."

"You shouldn't-"

"Don't argue with me Kim Namjoon. You're not going to win this one." While it's said in jest, you also mean it. He'll have to drag you upstairs to make you go. And if he steps foot in that bedroom, you both know you'll be able to make him stay.

"Oh really?" He challenges, fighting the smile growing on his face, not wanting to encourage your mischievous behaviour.

Grabbing the collar of his black tee, you pull him down to your height, smacking your lips against his. Kissing him passionately and longingly. Something you haven't been able to do for nearly a full week.

Letting his shirt go, his smile is fully grown. His dimples on display.

"Really." You finalize, looking up at him coquettishly.

You can see the struggle playing in his mind. He's extremely tempted to throw you over his shoulder and take you upstairs right now, his wolf fighting to shirk his responsibilities and give in to desire. His chest rumbling lowly as he winks down at you.

"Okay baby." his fingers dig into your hips, "If you're gonna play dirty, you can stay." He teases with a chuckle. Resisting the bait.

Feeling calmed and relaxed on the warmth of his hold again, a smug sense of pride fills your chest. From the corner of your eye, you can see her attention on the two of you. Your ego is not able to resist, and you shoot a cold pointed glare at her. A smirk creeping onto your face as she looks down, avoiding your eye line.

"Seeing as it's late, do you wanna make coffee for everyone?" You order her in the form of a question, speaking loudly enough for both her and Namjoon to hear your sassy, obvious tone.

She looks a little stunned. She'd just been promoted to the inner circle for this problem-solving session, and she doesn't seem pleased at being asked to perform menial tasks. Trying to go over your head, she looks at the Alpha for confirmation. But he doesn't give it to her. Instead, you can feel him nod, supporting your order. A full smile filling your face as you get his backing.

"Of course, Luna." she obeys, looking a little dejected.

"Thank you." you shoo her to action with a sing-song voice. Curling into Namjoons side, you can't help but feel authoritative. And a little bit victorious.

King! Seokjin

It had been nearly two weeks since you had seen Jin last. As frustrating as it was, you were genuinely missing him. There was a kind of energy he had when it was just the two of you. Something that filled you, and without him you were feeling like your own spirit was draining away.

It would be okay though, today Jin was coming back from visiting his wife and children. You're sure he missed you just as much as you missed him. That he was as excited to see you, as you were to see him. You were a little worried knowing that you would have to satisfy his sadism first, but you can tolerate it, thinking that at least you'll get to see his smile.

As the day is drawing to an end, you've finished all your tasks but you refuse to retire for the night, certain the King is going to call for you at any minute. Feeling a mix of excitement and relief when the staff manager comes to collect you.

Nearly skipping you rush to the dining hall, having been instructed to serve dinner to the King and his guest. Working with another maid to bring the meals from the kitchen.

Walking in, the smile you were trying to conceal disappears completely. Your stomach dropping. Jin's guest is the Princess. His wife.

You have to control your expression to hide your distress, feeling sick while serving him. His wife never comes down. She hasn't in a year and a half. Jin doesn't even really like her. It doesn't make sense why she's here.

With a curt bow, you remove the closh and place the plate down. Meeting the King's eye for a moment, you do your best to placify your appearance. Your efforts cracking when you see his lips pulling ever so slightly into a knowing smile.

He dismisses the other maid, but not you. Sending you to the waiting station by the wall. You're stuck watching over their conversation. Feeling more and more insecure as you look at the Princess's regality and beauty. Getting more frustrated as your mind runs rampant.

How long is she going to stay? It doesn't seem like they brought the Princes, so she has to go back soon. And what kind of mother leaves her children alone? It doesn't even matter that she's here, you know Jin likes you more. So what if she is really pretty, he can't hurt her like he can you. You make him happy. She's just a prop he was given to secure a treaty. He actually chose you.

Slowly, you're building yourself into a craze. Making yourself feel sad until the very end of the meal. Finally, their dinner date ends and he stands, kindly bowing to see her off. Leaving only you and him in the hall.

Relaxing back in his seat, he finishes the remainder of his drink.

"Y/n." Holding his empty glass to the side, he calls you over. You follow his gesture and top up his cup. Avoiding looking directly at him again. Pacing back to your place when he stops you.

"Come here." He grins, enjoying how uncomfortable you are. "You met my wife today." He pushes the difficult topic, again probing for your reaction.

Nodding softly, you're trying to not let your bitterness out. You know Jin doesn't like it when you pout.

"Are you jealous Princess?" He holds his hand out for you to take, leading you closer to him. Leaning back to create a space for you on his lap. Guiding you over him with your legs spread.

"No, your Majesty." You shake your head, your pause and hesitation giving away the truth.

Jin's gentle touch comes off your hand, his grip instead ripping back your hair, arching your back and nearly yanking you off of his lap. Biting back a shriek, you can't keep entirely quiet, whimpering as his fist curls tighter and closer to your scalp.

"Are you lying to me?" His mouth latches onto your shoulder, biting into your muscle vindictively. Unbridling that scream you had tried to smother.

"Yes. I'm sorry your Majesty!" you cry out, tears building in your eyes. "I'm jealous. I missed you. I want you-" all the truth is pouring out, but you hesitate worried you're being too bold, "all to myself."

His grip comes out of your hair. His hand instead raking down your chest, leaving painful red marks as each nail digs along the skin. Continuing lower, tearing the buttons on your dress. Yanking down your bra also, exposing your breasts. His other hand hikes the fabric up around your thighs, stopping on your waist, lowering your hips into him.

Pinching your nipple, he draws you closer until his lips are just off yours. Gasping through the initial pain, you can only whine and bite your lip to further keep quiet.

"Go on Princess. Prove to me why I should have missed you."

Assassin! Yoongi

Over the past couple of weeks, Yoongi would be gone for days at a time. Coming back in a strangely talkative and happy mood. You were as miserable and depressed as always, but his vigour was somehow revitalizing and comforting. It made him easier to deal with. It made him less moody. And it made your life easier. So to begin with you were very happy that he was happy.

That was until he mentioned a name in passing. A woman's name. Someone he was working with on a project.

As soon as you heard him talking positively about her, a pang of anxiety spiked through your stomach. From then on it rested in your gut, making you irritated, uncomfortable, and flustered every time you heard about or thought about her.

It was the strangest thing. You hated Yoongi, you're sure of it. But he was all you had. And hearing him talk about another woman, even though it sounded platonic, the adoration in his voice was hurting you in a way you never expected.

Slowly you had to work through this feeling on your own. You couldn't bear to let Yoongi know, not certain what he would do with the information that you were, in lack of a better word, jealous.

The more you heard about this woman, you knew you could never be as impressive as her. Every detail sounding equally terrifying and awe-inspiring. To be honest the specifics slipped your mind, as you were mostly wrapped up in self-pity when Yoongi spoke about her.

All you know is that you felt inferior, and you were craving, longing to feel that kind of importance to Yoongi, also. Resenting the fact that this other person was so easily able to bring joy and energy out of him.

Over the next couple of weeks, you spent every waking moment thinking about how to make Yoongi happy. Not just avoiding annoying him, like you usually did, but instead thinking about how to bring him genuine enjoyment.

One time you spent hours making him a meal. Making something you knew he would love. But, unfortunately, he only complained about the mess. He said he wasn't hungry and left you to throw the food away and clean up.

Another time, you had planned a full evening of activities. Movies, snacks, games that would help you get to know each other better, anything fun you could organize with your limited resources. Only, he wasn't in the mood to play, or talk. He only wanted one thing, and when he was done, he left you alone in your room, feeling used and a bit sore.

However, that gave you an idea. Maybe you could connect with him physically first. Then that might give you a way for something, anything more to develop.

This time, you set the house up with candles, music, wine, chocolate strawberries, everything you'd seen in movies. Waiting for him on the couch in something a little provocative. But, as soon as he comes in from the garage he looks more annoyed than impressed. Rolling his eyes, ordering you to your room.

By this stage it's late, you're tired, and you're losing your mind trying to make him happy. You were fighting so hard for his attention, and he was barely tolerating you. You aren't thinking clearly as you snap at him.

"Why?!" You yell, stomping your foot down. "I'm working so hard and you're just being an asshole!"

The words come out and you instantly regret them. His straight expression hardening.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You rush to him, wrapping your arms around his chest trying to soothe any reaction. "Just tell me what I can do." You plead. Exasperated by so many failed attempts.

"That depends. What do you want?" He honestly questions, looking down at you.

You weren't exactly prepared to answer this question. You're not sure you really know.

"I'm your's right?" you say with big eyes, your voice coming out so softly, feeling embarrassed even though you're mimicking his words. "I get that I have to be yours. But then you have to be mine too." Your voice trembles.

Finally, it makes sense to Yoongi. Your change in demeanour, and in behaviour. Why you've been so needy. Why you've been trying to get his attention. He understands now. And that was most of what was annoying him. Not knowing why you were acting differently.

He steps out of your grasp, calling for you to follow him upstairs. You're not so nervous as you do. Surprisingly, the revelation has given Yoongi has a warm smile.

Falling back onto his bed, he taps the space beside him, inviting you to join him. You climb into the middle of the bed, resting in the place he set for you, his arm laid out under your head. He curls into you, gently wrapping his arm over your waist. Hugging you.

For the first time ever, he is showing you some kind of affection. For the first time, he's actually making a gesture of warmth and comfort. You couldn't even let yourself think that Yoongi could be capable of this. Having spent so many months isolated and alone. Even when you weren't locked up.

Hating yourself for not being stronger, you break into silent tears. Biting your thumb to stifle any sobs.

While reason is battling in your head, telling you that it's a bad idea to form any kind of emotional attachment to him, you don't want to listen to logic right now. Letting yourself cling to Yoongi and the desperately needed human connection.

Vampire! Hoseok

There was a delicate balance to your relationship with Hoseok. You couldn't exactly rely on his moods to be stable, but you could rely on his obsession with you. It was the only thing that kept you feeling secure. Feeling certain that when he bit you next he wouldn't let you bleed out. Or that when he hit you or cut you or hurt you, that he wasn't going to leave you to suffer in agony but would heal you. Because he wanted to keep you. You were his.

It was a twisted kind of reassurance. But it's what you had, so it's what you worked with.

You knew the source of his obsession. It was you as a person, sure. But you weren't kidding yourself. Mostly, his infatuation was with your blood. Hoseok wasn't specific about it, but you had overheard some of the other Vampires discussing you. Apparently, you smell delicious, and that's why he never lets you wander the house with any cuts. That's why you were locked away every 28 days. And that's why you were his only.

It didn't make sense to you, there was nothing different about you.

But somehow you'd fallen in and become the star of your very own YA horror story.

Whatever the cause though, you were aware that Hoseok's addiction to your blood was the reason that he kept you. Without that, he might simply kill you, or worse, he might throw you to one of the other bloodsuckers who look at you like a happy meal they want to fuck.

Which is probably why you were so defensive when you saw him biting another girl.

Sitting on the back terrace looking over the gated property, Hoseok and a few of his creations were sitting in the moonlight enjoying a drink. You'd come downstairs expecting to be his refill when you see him sinking his fangs into the arm of one of the human pets.

Frustration floods through your body, a new kind of anger making your hands shake. A malicious and honestly, not-all-together thought out idea springs into your head. You've never seen him drink from anyone else before, and you need to remind him that he should only want you.

Taking a serrated peeler from the bar at the side of the terrace, you hold it concealed in your palm, going up to the first Vampire leaning there.

"Are you thirsty?" you ask, speaking lowly. He, like all the others, know you're Hoseok's, and so he rightfully looks uncomfortable being near you. Stepping into his personal space, you raise your arm under his chin and run the sharp blade across the top of your forearm. His eyes immediately going black, his fangs bared. Unable to resist what you're offering.

Behind you, every single one of them turns their heads, smelling you the second blood gathers on your skin.

In a flash, Hoseok is between the two of you. Ripping his teeth into the guy's neck, tearing his throat out. Killing him in an instant.

Breathing heavily, he turns to you with blood washed down his front. His eyes murderous and cold.

Retaliating, you storm towards the human-pet and shove her with all of your might, pushing her down the stone tile steps onto the grass. Watching her tumble into a heap.

Those around you have gone dead quiet, none of them even daring to look directly at either of you.

"How dare you?" He seethes, stalking towards you. But you're not backing down. You know better than to retreat from him when he charges.

"How dare I?" you scream. "How dare you drink from that skank!" An enraged Hoseok is something all of his offspring know to fear. Steadily you can see them clearing the space around the two of you. Withdrawing from whatever this is leading to.

"You want to tell me who I can eat?!" He growls, his hand shooting around your neck, holding you but not choking you. "You're a blood bag that I keep as a toy!"

"If that's all, then I'll let all of them feed on me too."

His hand constricts, restricting your air. "I'll kill anyone that tries."

"Then," you gasp, your words coming out short. "only me." you pull your hair off your shoulder, turning your neck as far to the side as you can. Throwing his head back, he takes the invitation, sinking his fangs into your jugular, swallowing down mouthfuls of your blood.

Holding onto his shoulders, you jump up wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing yourself closer to his mouth. Hoseok's arms wrapping around your ass, keeping you up.

Pushed back by your momentum, he stumbles a few steps, dropping down onto the open sofa chair. You landing on his lap, straddling his thighs.

As more of your blood is drained, and you get lightheaded, the pain starts to slip and your body starts to float. A euphoric sensation, akin to being high consuming you.

You tangle your hands up into his hair tugging it, massaging his scalp. You've become so accustomed to him fucking you when he feeds from you, that whenever he bites you, you get turned on. Your body reacting out of instinct. Slowly grinding down, rocking your hips into him as you start to get him hard. The friction feeling good making you moan. Making you move faster with pleasure tingling through your core also.

"Hobi," you moan. Shivering, as his tongue runs up your wounds.

Your gentle whine catches his attention. A surprised expression on his face that shifts into a smile as he leans back to watch you. His focus on you making you feel slightly embarrassed, slowing your motions until they stop altogether.

Biting his tongue, your eyes meet for a moment before he kisses his blood into your mouth, the copper taste feeling soothing and familiar. Your body relaxing completely knowing you'll wake up healed.

"Mine." He whispers into your lips.

The blood loss pulls you into unconsciousness, your head dropping onto his shoulder. The euphoric feeling swallowing you up as you purr back. "Mine."

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smallestapplin · 2 years ago

Note

OK so this is longer than necessary and nothing to do with any of the fics I’ve written before, but Melli deserves love and attention and most of all, he deserves to have his hair played with. Once again, I have not proof read any of this because reading my own writing is embarrassing and seems like way too much for my tiny anxious brain. Usual disclaimer, my daydream version was drastically different to what I’ve actually written but yolo. Please enjoy some bizarre, awkward, IDK how to flirt properly shenanigans between reader and Melli; also, if someone could please let Adaman know what atrocities he committed in a past life to have to bear witness to this train wreck that’d be great (he's just jealous cause he's maiden-less lol) - ♡

Since the day you met Melli all you wanted to do was play with his hair.

For so long you considered it a pipe dream, just as likely to happen as winning the lottery or waking up one morning back in your own world, falling into Hisui being nothing but a dream. Until now that is.

On your bi-weekly trip to annoy him on his warden duty you are greeted with an angry, tired looking Melli with all of his hair tucked under the hood of his tunic. You almost wouldn’t recognise him, if it weren’t for his trademark pout.

After, surprisingly, very little convincing you now had him sat on the floor in front of you, criss-cross apple sauce, whilst you combed out his hair.

“I wasn’t sure the great Melli could fall victim to such tragedy as a bad hair day. Even gods are people too, it seems” He grumbled at your teasing but there wasn’t a lot he could do about it without you threatening to stop your ministrations; and so, for a short while, he behaved nicely as the two of you sat in peace while you fixed Melli’s hair into a cute, if a bit messy, bun.

******

Sitting at the entrance to the arena, long after you had gone, Melli was still blushing. Mood souring only briefly at the thought of him having to take his hair out when he got home. You see, Melli had a small secret. Two small secrets, really. Firstly, growing up shy as he did it was no surprise that he was more than a little touch starved, having you offer to sit and play with his hair was equal parts terrifying and exciting. Secondly, he had a rather sizable crush on you, ever since he met you, you had been a near constant figure in his day-to-day life and frankly how could he not fall a little bit in love with you for that alone, never mind that you were uniquely pretty.

Truth be told, at first you had annoyed him to no end. You were almost effortlessly beautiful to him, you had such soft eyes and were always so quick to smile around him, these alone were enough to have you occupy a near constant space in his mind. What annoyed him most though, was the fact that your hair that curled naturally. It was unfair. He spent many years perfecting the way he curled his hair, only to be mocked by the universe when it sent him you, you who didn’t even try. It was these thoughts that stopped him from realising for the longest time that his feelings weren’t actually annoyance at all, not even jealousy, much to his dismay Melli found he actually liked you, like really liked you.

For the first time in a long time, he vowed to keep his mouth shut. He refused to tell a soul. Not even Adaman who, as if he were his real brother, he usually confided everything to.

In all honesty, you were his first real crush, full heart speeding up, a little hard to breathe, crush. He understood now why people called it a crush in the first place. Having your hands in his hair today was scarier to him than Lord Electrode’s frenzy, he couldn’t stop his heart from racing, willing it to be over quickly only to find himself miserable when your hands stopped all too soon.

He had no idea how long this crush would last, but he could try and make the most of this “bad hair day” excuse.

******

For the next few weeks, almost every time you visited him, he would complain that his hair didn’t look perfect or how frustrated he was that the almighty Sinnoh had cursed him with more “bad hair days”. Suspecting that something was afoot but playing along, you had made it a regular thing to do his hair when you got there. Even going so far to suggest that he let you wash it one day when he got back to camp so that you could fix his hair so it dried curly as he slept. He had blushed a bright red at that but agreed nonetheless, feigning indifference.

So far you had him wear his hair in space buns, a fish-tail braid, half up half down, a regular braid, half down and half up in a small bun reminiscent of a Disney princess and a full French braid like that one video game character all complete with little slut strands framing his face and everything. Honestly, at this point, your crush on him had taken a back-burner for a while as you desperately wanted to see just how far you could push it. Asking to wash his hair was a bold move for you and one you thought might ruin the good thing you had going but when he accepted you got the feeling that your face was just as red as his.

*****

Adaman was more than ready to admit he was worried. More than once he had seen Melli leave camp with his hair hidden and it was concerning. It was no secret that Melli’s hair was sacred to him, in fact it was fair to say Melli‘s hair meant more to him than the almighty Sinnoh did, so it made sense for Adaman to investigate further. However, every time he had finished his regular clan leader duties and found Melli, the man was fine. His hair back on full display, although in an assortment of strange styles.

He had tried confronting Melli about this without much luck. He had tried asking both subtly and outright and every time all he’d get was a generic answer like “nothing’s wrong” or “I’m fine”. After around 2 weeks and 4 new hairstyles, it was starting to wear on him. He had more important clan related things to worry about than being on Melli-watch and so decided to get to the bottom of it once and for all.

As luck would have it, he figured out the issue the same night he made the decision to dig further. Watching out for Melli to get back from his warden duties he noticed that you were with him; the stranger from the sky, the one that he’d seen Melli pining over for months and vice versa. Watching you both speaking and making arrangements to meet back up later he kept a close eye on Melli’s tent for the rest of the evening, maybe one of you would finally get your act together and confess, he’d hate to miss that.

*****

Tonight was the night and you were nervous as hell. You had seen Melli again today and you had been a little upset that his hair looked as fabulous and normal as it usually does, without the need for your assistance. Your sadness fading to mild terror as he advised he was due to wash it later, very much intending to take you up on your offer of teaching him how to fix his hair so it dries curly. You had sat with him all day discussing the many ways you knew it was done and asking which he wanted to try first depending upon if he wanted softer curls or tighter curls. He seemed more than a little displeased when you advised he couldn’t get curls like yours but this was short lived as you gushed about how pretty he was going to look anyways.

Walking back down to camp with him was when you really started to panic, trying to pass off your uneven breathing as exhaustion from the rough terrain. It all felt a little too real as you asked if he wanted dinner bringing over when you came over later. Your plan was to get a little time away to panic about everything, away from him and in your own tent for a while, under the guise of making dinner, before having to go back and fix his hair like you weren’t about to be alone with your crush in his tent! Both blushing it was awkwardly settled, you’d each go home for a while, you to make dinner and him to do whatever duties he needed to before meeting up again later to eat dinner and style his hair.

The sun started to set at a time you felt was premature as you set back out to meet Melli. Carrying a large ribbon to be used as a makeshift headband and small pot of your cooking, a dish that was as close to your favourite recipe from home that you could get, you knocked on Melli’s door bracing yourself and half hoping he didn’t answer. Unfortunately for you, he did.

As he pulled back the door you saw that he had already washed his hair, his damp strands clinging to his face and shirt. He had changed clothes too, which was awkward for you as you hadn’t, after all that panicking it had slipped your mind completely to change out of your clan tunic and into something a little bit less formal. You expression must have betrayed your thoughts as his face flushed slightly, apologising for how he was dressed.

“I thought the hood on the tunic would get in the way and would wreck my hair trying to take it off later for bed.” He mumbled and turned away to walk over to a small table currently covered in everything he used in his hair routine.

Blushing you followed him, making no comment other than a stuttered “that’s good” noting that he also had ribbon for his hair. Maybe he had tried this before and hated it? Why was he letting you do it again?

Setting the pot of food down and letting him know it would still be warm enough if you do his hair first you asked him to sit and nervously began to comb his hair.

*****

It didn’t take Melli long to relax under your touch. Which was unsurprising to anyone really, he just hoped this was relaxing for you too, you had seemed nervous to see him so casually dressed and he winced when he realised it was the first time you had ever seen him out of his tunic. He was mildly disappointed to see you hadn’t changed, hoping to see you in the nice clothes that you were wearing when you fell, maybe he was reading too much into this? It’s not like it’s a date, right?

The ribbon you had brought with you seemed thicker than his own and so you had both settled on using that one, the deep black standing out against his light hair. Rolling his hair over the ribbon and securing it in a bow on top of his head so it wouldn’t come undone so easily Melli felt himself deflate a little, missing you touch already. In his earlier nervousness he’d chosen this method as it seemed like the fastest, having learned nothing from his previous experiences, and once again now it was over, he found himself wishing he had chosen a more complicated routine. At least there was still dinner.

As if the almighty Sinnoh was taunting Melli personally, the night seemed to pass by quickly and he soon found you getting ready to leave. Dinner was delicious and he has listened intently when you spoke about the differences between ingredients here and at home, it made his heart hurt seeing your sad smile as you reminisced about a home you would likely never go back to. Feeling guilty as he realised, he never wanted you to return there as it meant leaving him.

Overall, the night was pleasant but still he found himself not wanting it to end. Delaying you as much as he could with talks about how to take his hair out in the morning and if you needed the ribbon back. Realising eventually, that he could delay you no longer, he stood with you by the door. Seeing your pot under one arm and your hand reaching for the door handle he felt a sudden rush of panic laced courage, lightly grabbing your arm to stop you for a second. Seeing your bright smile as you turned back to him, he let his thoughts fall silent and could no longer stop his actions. Bringing his hand up to your face, he heard your sharp intake of breath as his lips met yours. A sweet kiss, that you returned readily. A brief kiss, that left the both of you giddy as you said your goodbyes.

*****

Watching you walk back to your tent flushed and giggling to yourself, Adaman couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t get to see which of you had made the first move but he was happy that he would never again have to put up with both of your oblivious pining. Sighing again, as he realised that he would still probably have to witness your ridiculous attempts at hair-based flirting.

Oh this is so cute!!! You did an amazing job!!

Look at Melli being emotionally constipated and finally making a move!💜💜

#heart anon #pokemon #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader

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burntmcnuggies · 4 years ago

Text

Jealous Bird (Smut)

Jealous! Hawks x Reader

Warnings: sexual themes, strong language, feral Hawks, rut, unprotected sex, and a jealous birb, 18+ only please! :D

If you’d like the fluff version and not the smut, you can go here! ➪ Fluff <3

“Mornin’ chicken wing. What’re we doin’ for breakfast? I paid last time so this is allll on you.” Hawks sent a playful wink towards you as he landed beside you from his previous place in the air, holding his hand up and rubbing his index and thumb together as a sign he wanted you to pay. You rolled your eyes and rose your hand, mocking him. “Don’t forget who spent hours doing YOUR paperwork because a certain birdbrain was too lazy to do it.” Hawks held up his hands in defeat and slumped over, sticking out his bottom lip, over exaggerating his facial expressions. He whined and let his wings droop. “C’mon just one more time? Pretty please with your favorite pretty bird on top?”

“Stop dragging your wings, you’re gonna get them dirty.” You scolded and pat his back, slightly feeling how tense his shoulder were. You were about to offer to give him a massage later, not wanting your friend to have to sleep tonight with stiff muscles until you noticed something. His wings were almost glowing a whole new shade now. Such a vibrant and beautiful color. It was then realizing how close you were that you could hear a faint cooing bubbling from his throat. “...? The fuck are you doing Hawks?” He looked over confused and tilted his head. You grumbled at his lack of knowing exactly what he was doing. “Do you even have complete control over your body? You don’t even realize you’re whistling and cooing like some pigeon.”

You completely missed the pissed off look that crossed his face at your comment. He plastered on a cheeky smile and put his hands behind his back, picking his wings off the ground and tucking them firmly behind his back. “Nah, sometimes my bird-side comes out, especially during spring. God I go fuckin’ crazy. Sometimes it’s early and I have to take a whole week off a work!” You looked up to a couple trees you both passed while you were walking to your usual breakfast place, KFC —Although you always debate you want to go somewhere else. It was late winter, very close to spring, about March. You never kept up with the date. “Why do you take a whole week off?”

“People with animal quirks like me would understand. Just like Mirko! Haha, I’m sure she’s the worst right now bein’ it’s early March!” He laughed and put his hands out, his hands snaking into his pockets to firmly stick there. You pouted, wanting to know exactly what Hawks was talking about. You told Hawks everything, but he didn’t give you the same treatment. “I’ll just ask Mirko later then if you refuse to tell me.” Hawks quickly wagged his finger side to side in front of your face, his other hand being placed on his hip now. You were familiar with his body language and how much he loved using his hands. “Nah ah, chicken wing. You do that and she’s gonna pounce on you. You won’t see light for days!”

“Mirko has accidentally jumped on me before, it’s not like we haven’t sparred before! I can withstand some punches and kicks!” Hawks sulked again, his hands digging back into his pockets, displaying his annoyance that you weren’t listening to him. He just looked away and shrugged his shoulders back. “Just trust me, kiddo. It’d be for the best you didn’ see Mirko, especially at a time like this. I know how she feels.” You were starting to get irritated at his lack of response to your question, only dodging it and making you sit in suspense. Finally you gave up and decided to bring it back up later. “I’m just gonna stop asking, you’re obviously not gonna answer me are you?”

“Haha! Nope! You know me too well, (Y/N).” You both arrived at KFC, immediately greeted by the manager and many of Hawks’ fans who knew he came there a lot. Many asked for his autograph or a selfie, but he refused politely. “I’ll do some after I get some chicken! I’m starved!” Super fans offered to even pay for his food, to which he declined, saying that you were kind enough to have already offered to pay for his food. A total fat lie! He begged you to pay! You sent him a glare and proceeded just to order both your meals while Hawks spoke with his fans. “Well, guess I can start now! Who’s first?” After he saw you were paying and ordering, he began to sign autographs and take selfies that would no doubt be on social media in minutes.

“Man! I sure do have a lot of supportive and loyal fans! Must suck never bein’ noticed.” Hawks passively insulted your rank as a pro hero by taking a jab at your ranking. You were somewhere in the mid thirties. Not popular at all, especially in this part of Japan where Hawks was born. “At least I have fans who aren’t thirsty for me! Getting all wet and horny at night thinking of their hero Hawks taking them from behind~” You smirked and rose your hands shrugging your shoulders, before hugging yourself. You bit your lip, closing your eyes and squirming with a dreamy smile, mocking his thirsty fan girls. “Oh Hawks! Please I’ll do anything for you! Take me! Oh please fuck my sopping pussy with your big fat cock til I can’t move anymore! Mm! Cum inside me! Let me bare your kids!

You didn’t notice the way his wings trembled and his face reddened, his avian eyes widening as he watched you speak so lewdly. He shook it off quickly before he got out of control and leaned forward towards you smirking. “At least I have fans thirstin’ for my cock~ haven’t heard of anyone wantin’ your boring ass!” He gave a closed eye smile and brought his hands up to give you a big fat thumbs down. Your eye twitched and you remained silent, not having a comment. That was until you remembered a villain hitting on you not too long ago. “Well at least I’ve had a villain fawn over me! I can still remember it clearly! ‘Oh fuck, I would turn good to get a piece of that ass!’”

This time you noticed how his brows furrowed, and his wings fluffed up, almost as if he just had a whole shiver rake through his body. “When was this?” He asked, his head now resting in his right hand, staring intently. You thought about it for a minute, before taking a wild guess. “Ehh, about like a couple months ago.” This only put him in a more sour mood. You didn’t understand why he was acting so strange. Maybe it was what you talked about? Obviously you’d never talked about anything sexual with Hawks, but on the topic of thirty fans aching for him, you wanted to make jokes since he was always mocking you and making sly insults. “Sorry... I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s not your fault. Well... it kinda is.” He admitted afterwards and smirked at you teasingly as if you would already know it was your fault. You frowned, about to open your mouth again before they called your number to get your food. You sighed and stood from your seat, walking over to the counter and retrieving the food, however, you were stopped by a man. He was young, about nineteen or twenty, quite handsome. “Excuse me miss, this may sound really straightforward and all but, you’re really pretty, and I was wondering if I could get your number?” You blushed a bit and looked away. You were a bit weary, but decided anyways. “I-I don’t know... I guess so. You seem nice. It’s-“

“Hey there, you gotta hobby of stealin’ other people’s things?” A gloved band came in contact with your shoulder, and a large shadow cast over you and the man in front of you. The man gasped in amazement at seeing the number two pro hero standing before him, it would’ve been a better experience if Hawks wasn’t threatening him with his looks and smart-ass remarks. “Huh? Oh! S-Sorry I didn’t-“ Hawks rudely interrupted the man, his gloved hand squeezing harder. His smile was obviously forced, and his feathers were starting to fluff up every second that past he stood in front of this guy. “Eh don’t worry about, you didn’ know. Now that ya do, don’t come near her again, Kay?”

And in the blink of an eye, Hawks pulled you away and out of the fast food restaurant. He aggressively pulled out the food and shoved yours against your chest, unwrapping his quickly and munching on it. “What the hell Hawks?! That was a bit much! He was being nice! It’s not like we’re dating or anything...” You trailed off, watching his wings twitch and fluff. You had noticed his strange behavior for a couple days now. His feathers would fluff up every now and again —you had no idea why— especially near men. “You should be thankin’ me chicken wing. I just saved you from a world of heartbreak.”

“That’s not your place to decide, Hawks. I don’t intervene when women ask for your phone number.” You crossed yours arms and turned your nose up at his childish behavior. He didn’t respond, finishing his breakfast and throwing away his trash in a nearby can. His hands slipping back into his pockets, displaying that he was closing himself off from you now. Of course, you began to become irritated at his lack of voice, but you decided to let it go and not pressure him further. “You’ve been acting weird lately ya know? I’m getting worried...”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.” Oh how you hated his emotionless voice, so bland and robotic, it honestly pained you. His eyes were sharp, quick to notice your saddened expression. Hawks sighed heavily and stuck his bottom lip out, wrapping his arm around your arms and pulling you close to him. “I’m one of the top five pros, you don’ gotta worry about me, chicken wing. Cheer up.” You smiled and shoved him off, only a bit happy his cocky and arrogant behavior had returned. The Hawks you knew and cherished. “You know, I hate you sometimes, but I can’t help but love you at the same time.”

“Who doesn’t love me? The sexiest bird-man around.” He smirked and gave you a flirtatious look, a small sound bubbling from his throat similar to a whistle. You returned his smirk with a teasing smile. You were almost immune to his flirty charm, key-word; almost. Hawks was definitely an attractive man. Those piercing eyes with dark markings around them, only making the color pop and glow. His messy hair swept back and disheveled. Let’s not forget about those bushy eyebrows of his, they almost look like feathers from his wings, only a beautiful ashy blonde color just like his hair. You could probably do without his egotistical attitude and vulgar tongue, but that was still all part of his charm. “Move!”

You were surprised by Hawks suddenly grabbing you and jerking you out of the way of an attack from a villain. You were right there in his chest, feeling his warmth, hearing the harsh thumping of his heart at the thought of almost losing you. Before he had a chance to say what he wanted. “Well there goes our leisurely patrol. And more paper work on our desks.” Hawks grunted in annoyance and took to the air. You finally regained your composure and got into your fighting stance. “Ready to kick some ass Hawks?! Whoever lands the final blow is treated to lunch!”

“Heh, you don’t stand a chance! Show me whatcha got!”

—

“Thanks Edgeshot... I totally owe you one.” You scratched their back of your neck with an awkward smile as you stood in front of the current number four hero. While Hawks was on the assault, eager to show off and boost his already high ego, you tried to get a sneak attack in, but the villain noticed you. They were about to attack you, before Edgeshot came and got you out of the way. Hawks didn’t take this too well. He became angry immediately and finished off the villain in a matter of seconds. “No thanks necessary, (H/N). I was just doing my job.” You hated being in debt to someone more than anything, so you quickly threw out an offer.

“Please! Let me take you out for drinks! Honestly! I’ve gotta do something! I-“ Suddenly a large shadow cast over you for the second time that day. You turned around and shrunk down noticing Hawks’ wings spread wide, fluffed to the brim and shaking in anger. His face was red and his eyes were narrowed at Edgeshot. He was angry at himself for not being able to protect you himself, and at Edgeshot for rescuing you and holding you close. That was supposed to be him. “H-Hawks? What’s wron-“ Edgeshot was the one who answered your main question earlier before Hawks could even get another word out. The answer shocked you to your core, finally understand why he was acting so weird.

“He’s showing his dominance, and in a public place no less, how careless.” You looked at the ninja hero confused before you turned your attention back to Hawks. Dominance? His wings were such a beautiful vibrant color now. A shade of red you’d never seen them before on him. A sudden flash captured your eyes, taking your attention away from his beautiful wings. The media was eating this up. Soon it would reach the Hero Public Safety Commission and the president would not like this one bit. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). But I’m impatient, I can’t wait any longer.” Your eyes widened as your attention was fully back on Hawks now. You opened your mouth about to ask what he meant, but something was preventing you from doing so.

Hawks’ lips were firmly placed upon your own, his bright red rings wrapping around the both of you to shield you from any watchful eyes wanting to take a peek at you. His lips were soft, his hands finding themselves on your waist, pulling you flush against his body. You were shocked, your eyes wide, heart hammering wildly out of your chest at the sudden action. Slowly, you began to kiss him back, falling victim to his charm and passionate ways. He was quickly heating up the kiss, but you placed your hands on his chest firmly, pushing him away just enough to separate your lips. He was chasing your lips, desperate to get another kiss. “Hawks what-“

“I’m tired of waiting. I can’t fucking hold it in any longer. I know I’m impatient, but you make it so fucking hard to hold back sometimes.” You opened your mouth about to question, but the only thing that came from your mouth was a terrified scream having Hawks launch you both into the air and fly quickly through the skies. You held onto him for dear life, screaming at him to put you down. You nearly hugged the ground when Hawks reached a luxury penthouse apartment. “What the hells the matter with y- mmm!” He forced his lips onto you quickly, roughly grabbing your body and pulling you against him. His wings still outstretched and flapping slightly.

His feathers went to open the sliding glass door, pushing you inside while still having your lips firmly connected. He was hungry, eating your mouth like it was the only thing he’d had in years. His tongue forced its way passed your lips, dominating the inside of your mouth with his fiery passion. Your hands clawed at his fluffy tan jacket, pulling him closer, your body now aching to be touched more by him. He was just so intoxicating. It was starting to get hard to breath after a while, and you tried to pull yourself away, but he moved with you, keeping your lips firmly together. He only parted away to growl out an order to you. “Breath through your nose.”

His hands were on you again, thick gloved hands trailing down your waist to grab a handful of your tasty ass. A squeak flew out of your lips, allowing him deeper access to your mouth than he already had. You couldn’t deny the dampness beginning to build down there. Your panties were now wet with your slick, making you slightly uncomfortable with the way the damp fabric rubbing against your folds. “God.” He breathed against your lips, not even giving you a second to catch your breath before he was on you again. His hands quickly got towork on getting your shirt off. “I can smell your fuckin’ arousal. Fuck it’s intoxicating. You drive me fucking crazy!”

“H-Hawks! W-Wait!” You voiced your want to stop and talk whatever he was feeling out, but just seeing that lustful passionate look in his eyes, it was a lost cause. His pupils were blown with lust, his breathing heavy and ragged, desperate to start touching you again. “It’s your fault... all your fuckin’ fault it came early. Now be a good baby bird and take responsibility.” You didn’t have time to refuse before he was on you again, his lips finding their way harshly to your neck, his teeth lightly biting. You jerked your head to the side, moaning softly at the feeling of his canines digging into your skin. Your heart was hammering harshly against your chest feeling his thick glove drift up your shirt, roughly grabbing your boobs, groaning at the squishy feeling in his hands. “I didn’ want you to see me like this... but after all the shit that’s happened today... I can’t hold back. Not anymore. That was out the door whenever you started mocking my thirty fans.”

He pulled your shirt over your head quickly, pushing you back into his couch while his hands grabbed your waist, his tongue sliding across the top of your breasts. A shiver raked through your body, low pants leaving your mouth as you watched his mouth move lower. In a flash of red, a feather came up and sliced your bra open, being the impatient man he is, he didn’t want to struggle with getting it off you just to see those perky nips of yours. You were quick to cover yourself, too embarrassed showing your best friend your body like that. It’s not like you would ever look at each other the same after this. A strong grip enclosed around your wrists, Hawks grabbing your wrists and pinning them by your sides.

“H-Hawks...” Your breathy whisper of his name drove him almost mad. He breathed onto one of your nipples, hot breath fanning over the entirety of your perky buds. You squirmed in discomfort and whimpered, your body betraying your mind, desperately wanting his mouth on you. “Hah... I knew you wanted me just as much as I fucking wanted you. How long, how long have you wanted me? Tell me. Tell me how much you crave me right now, ‘cause I can’t get enough!” He drew out the flat of his tongue, running it over your nipple, all while his golden eyes stared right at you expressions. Your legs clinched together tightly feeling a tingling sensation spread from his lick. “Hawks no, mmm~ you cant...”

“I can, and I will, you’re mine, and I’m not lettin’ you out of my apartment until I’ve marked you as mine, and you’ve got so much fucking cum inside you that you’ll already look pregnant.” Your eyes widened and you jerked away from him. Pregnant?! Was he out of his mind?! You weren’t even dating yet! Sure you’ve had feelings for him for a long time now but this was all moving too fast! “What did you expect? I’m gonna breed you so fuckin’ good. So fucking good. You won’t be able to think about anyone else but me.” Now it all clicked. What he said earlier, how he was acting now. Why hadn’t you noticed it sooner? He practically told you everything this morning, you were just too stupid to consider it.

Mating season.

That’s why his feathers had been brighter, the cooing and whistling coming from his throat. The displays of dominance to other men who you conversed with. Courting traits for a male trying to attract a female. You weren’t dumb, animals mated to do one thing, and one thing only. Reproduce. Their instinct immediately is to find a female and mate with them, reproduce and leave. However, this wasn’t always the case in some. “Fuck, you smell so damn good down here. Your pussy’s so wet for me already. And I haven’t even done anything, yet. Looks like you’ve become a thirsty fan, huh? Wanting my cum deep inside you and gettin’ wet while I manhandle you? Fuck, you’re so damn sexy.”

“Hawks m-more~” You were hesitant to ask him for more, worrying for your poor body and your sensitive heart. Only sensitive for him. You accepted your feelings for him, struggling to voice your new found notion to him. He growled lowly in response to your request, hands hastily pulling your pants off in one fell swoop. He was absolutely feral. “I wanna eat you out so fuckin’ bad. Your sweet pussy, sopping snd beggin’ to be stuffed, fuck.” He has a particularly vulgar tongue most of the time, but never like this. He always expressed how hard it was for him to hold back, but this was a completely different side of him you’d never seen. It was like he was feral. A complete animal. “Oh, I’m gonna tongue fuck the shit out of you. You’ll cum all over my tongue, just like how you’re gonna squirt all over my cock.”

He stood up quickly, his feathers dispersing to shrug his jacket off before he pulled his tight shirt over his head. Just like that his wings came back to life, flapping slightly as a readjustment. His gloves were removed as well, now you could feel his bare hands roaming over your exposed body. He dropped to his knees, spreading your legs and putting your inner thighs around his head, but not too tight. He approached your entrance, a damp spot clearly evident on your fabric panties. His fingertips dug into your thighs, pushing his face flush against your panties. He let out a breathy moan against your wet folds protected by your panties, subconsciously humping the couch for even the slightly bit of pressure against his hard cock.

“Hah, fuuuuck. I’m so horny, everything’s so hot. Let’s get these cute little panties off. Don’t wanna rip ‘em now. Need something to hold my cum inside your pretty pussy so you bare my kids.” Hawks grabbed your panties and pulled them down your legs and onto the floor. He kneeled on his knees in front of the couch, his head between your legs, your feet propped against the coffee table, and your hands gripping the couch anywhere you could, desperately wanting to grab his messy hair. “Oh god...” He moaned at the sight of your sopping pussy, your slick slowly dripping onto the couch much to your embarrassment.

“D-Don’t stare dumba- H-Hawks!” You cried out his name in surprise once he drove his face deep into your crotch. His nose firmly pressed against your sensitive clit, his tongue diving deep into your cunt without warning. Your hands dove straight to his hair, pulling at his blonde locks trying to keep yourself composed from his pleasure. “Oh fuck! Oh Hawks! Sh-Shit! Mmm baby yes~” Your head was spinning, his teeth lightly pressing against yours folds. It didn’t help anything with all of the lewd smacking and slurping of his tongue eating you out so damn good. “Ahh! N-No Wait! Your tongue! It’s so... Ngh! Deep!”

“Keep moaning for me, just like that. Moan for me and don’t you dare fuckin’ stop.” The vibrations of his lips against your sensitive pussy cause you to flinch and squirm against his sinful touch, fingers pulling at his hair harder. An unexpected groan escaped his lips as he went back to work, tongue swirling and digging around, searching for that one spot that would make your world come undone. You continued to moan and call out his name, instinctively pushing his head deeper. His movements were quick and sloppy, savoring every lick of your delicious fluids, groaning lewdly against your pussy’s lips once he found that spot. “Oh fuck! Right there! Mm~! More! Please a-again!”

He ruthlessly began to abuse that spot, pushing his tongue harshly against it and attempting to massage it. His fingers poked and prodded at your insides, pushing his fingers past and replacing his tongue with those long slim fingers of his. Your head was now thrown back against the couch, releasing his hair and clawing at the couch for dear life, desperately clinging to anything you could grab. You moaned at the foreign feeling, forgetting what if even felt like to have sex. You had a fleeting experience in your last year of high school, but that was it. One time thing. Now here you are doing it again, with your best friend no less, or were you even friends anymore? His fingers worked on making sure you were prepared for him. You were enjoying yourself, being pleasured by the man you’ve hidden your feelings from for years. Him however...

His cheeks were dusted pink, sweat trickling down his forehead with some of his curly blonde locks sticking to his face. His breathing was ragged, heavy and stuttered with a thick sense of desire behind it. His wings were quivering, the color so vibrant it could rival a neon sign. Now you didn’t know much about their nature, but you could tell just by looking at his wings that he was very excited and desperate. “Gotta get you nice and prepared for me right, chicken wing? Gotta get you ready to take my fat cock.” His lewd words made your world just so much hotter. You could feel your arousal leaking down your pussy to your puckered hole and down onto Hawks’ expensive couch. “Ahh! St-Stop! I’m-Im gonna cum! Oh god I’m gonna cum!”

He jerked his fingers out quickly, grunting in the process as he lustfully stared at his fingers coated in your juices. He breathed out a moan while he kicked away all your juices, growling lowly in possessiveness. “Sorry chicken wing but... I want you to cum on my cock. I want to feel you clampin’ down on me, cumming so hard you faint. Screaming my name at the top of your lungs so that everyone knows that you’re mine! All fuckin’ mine.” Your eyes widened seeing him sit up more, pushing his pants down the rest of the way before kicking them off, leaving him in only his red boxers. His arousal was definitively clear, noticing how the head of his cock peeked out from the waistband, leaking pre-cum, tip red and aching. The sight was undeniable steamy, your legs clenching together with your thighs slowly rubbing together. “That’s right baby. Already thirstin’ for my cock, aren’t you? Fuckin’ slut. My slut. Hah... fuck I gotta be inside you.”

He pushed his boxers down, revealing his aching hard-on. Balls lulling down, full of cum, ready to be emptied out inside of your tight pussy. Without thinking, you sat up slowly coming close to his erection. You could smell his heavily masculine and musky scent from where you were, but you needed more of him. You sadly didn’t get far before he grabbed your head and pushed you back. “Nah ah, baby. Not today. I’m too fuckin’ horny and desperate to let you suck my cock today. Next time.” Next time? There was going to be a next time? Your heart hammered harshly knowing your long time friend and crush planned on doing all of this again with you. “Hang on tight, dove. It’s gonna be a long bumpy ride.”

“W-Wait!” You watched in worry as Hawks pinned you down, spreading your legs and positioning himself. You hadn’t taken him seriously, but now you regret it. “P-Protecti- Ahn~!” You couldn’t even protest once he pushed himself inside, moaning loudly at the sinful heat that engulfed his cock, heating up his entire body more than it already was. His wings flapped slowly, occasionally twitching as he impatiently waited for you to get used to his size. The cool breeze sorta calmed you down, taking your attention away from the pain nestled in your lower regions. “Fuck, can I move? Please, please let me move.”

Good god did he sound fucking hot begging.

“Yeah, y-you can- MMM! Fuck!” You threw your head back, pleasure spreading through your body. As soon as he heard the word “yeah” he immediately got to work on fucking your cunt until you were overflowing with his cum. You harshly bit your lip, holding in your embarrassing noises from his ears, however, he had no problem not hiding them from you. “Fuck, fuck, hah... don’t hide your moans from me. I wanna fuckin’ hear ‘em. Let everyone know who’s fucking you, who you belong to, and that you’re m-mine! Fuck!” He breathlessly moaned against your face, ramming himself into you repeatedly. Your hands were now on his back, clawing down his muscular back. He growled lowly into your ear, breathily cursing. “D-Damnit! Can’t... f-find it! Ahh... hah... fuck chicken wing, fuck yeah!”

His husky grunts were dangerously bordering animalistic. His pants were ragged, hips never faltering in movement, his wings flapping slightly and quivering every now and again. “Yeah baby? You like me fucking you? I’m gonna breed you so fuckin’ good. You’ll bare m-my clutch! You’re mine, ahhaahh! Fuck!” You were crying his name, clenching his back with your legs squeezing on either side of his waist. His cock was hammering against a bundle of nerves in your body you didn’t even know you had. “Hawks! Oh god! Please! Slow down-!” He pulled out quickly, leaving you a whimpered mess without that full feeling in your stomach. He flipped you over, hastily ramming himself back in you from behind, his wild thrusts getting harder. “Yeah, fuck yeah! There it is! Yeah! Gonna cum right in that womb if yours, you’re gonna be so round and pregnant with my kids! N-Nobody’ll ever come near you again! They’ll know you’re mine! My dove! My b-baby!”

His hot hands pushed your lower back, slamming you down against the couch and brutally fucking your tight pussy like no tomorrow, animalistic growls leaving his lips, teeth burying into your shoulder and neck. He was marking you as his. You were covered in his scent now, other men wouldn’t dare come near you now that you were filled with Hawks’ pheromones. “I’m gonna cum! Ahh! Hah! Hahn fuck I’m cumming Hawks! I’m cumming!” He rose his hand and smacked your ass harshly, the red tingling sensation spreading through your cheek. It felt so damn good. He grasped his hand over your stomach and pushed harshly. “You’re cumming, yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock? Gonna try and milk me are ya? Milk me, baby! Milk me so damn good and get every last drop of my fuckin’ cum in that ripe fertile womb of yours!”

“Hawks! Hah! Hah! Oh I’m cumming! Nhhh I’m c-cum...ming! Ahh!” You came harshly all over his still thrusting cock, your creamy juices spreading all over his cock and slipping down his balls full of his child baring cum. He didn’t stop yet, still bucking his hips through your orgasm even though you were still so sensitive. “Ohho! You’re such a good girl! So good! Fuck baby! Yeah, keep squeezin’ me! Keep fuckin’ squeezin’ meee! Agh!” He groaned deeply into your ear, desperately panting and grunting into your ear. You cried, physical tears running down your cheeks at the intensity of his brutal thrusts on your aching sore cunt. He slapped your ass again, squeezing it tightly afterwards with his nails creating crescents in your smooth skin. “F-Fuck I’m close! Yeah you want my cum? Tell me you want my cum deep inside you! C’mon baby, say it!”

“I want your cum Hawks! Mmm! Please! Please I want it! I wanna carry your kids! I want to be bred by you! Ah hahn! I can’t! Please!” You immediately regretted your words. His pace had become quicker, harsh pounds becoming desperate. You could feel his balls slapping against your inner thighs, a red itchy tingling bubbling up. His hands came around your neck, the other going to harshly rub your clit. You couldn’t contain the endless moans, cries, and screams of his name, his hero name to be precise. “Oh god! Oh my god! Feels so good! Mmm! Hawks, I-I’m gonna cum again!” He pants against your ear, snarling and growling about how good and round he’s gonna make you.

“Fuck I’m cumming! Hah, fuck!” He grunted loudly and released heavy shaky breathes, his raging hard on twitching inside your now gooey insides. You came harshly, your walls clamping down on him. He was fully embedded within you, balls pressed firmly against you, his scarlet wings twitching and flapping, stretching widely suddenly stiffening up. You could feel the warm spurts of his cum deep inside, forcing a low moan past your swollen lips. His wings happily drooped once he had finished, his head now hanging low, trying to catch his breath. “H-Hawks... I love you.” You finally admitted to him, watching intently to see his reaction to your words. He laughed huskily, his golden eyes raising back up to meet yours, still cloudy with lust. “You fuckin’ better. You’re my dove, now and forever, ya hear that? Now...”

“Let’s make sure you get pregnant.”

—

Pain was the first thing you were met with the morning after your undeniably passionate night with Hawks. Feathers were scattered all over the place, large blankets thrown everywhere, and some of his clothes were thrown over you. Incredibly confused, you sat up but quickly jolted back down as a searing hot pain shot through your body from your hips. “Woah there, chicken wing! Relax, you must be in a lot of pain. I don’t blame you after the harsh fucking I put you through last night.” The man who had put you in such pain walked into the room, shirtless and only in a pair of boxers. The bed dipped slowly as he sat on the bed, handing you a cool glass of water. You painfully sat up, gently taking the glass from his rough hands, thanking him quietly. “What the hell did you do while I was out?”

The pro hero looked around the room before coming to lay eyes on you again, scratching the back of his neck with a faint blush on his cheeks. “I uh, made a nest!” He answered bashfully. It was an incredibly rare sight to see him embarrassed. Uncomfortable sometimes, but never embarrassed. You looked around the mess and raised a brow. “Nest? Why the hell did you-“ You stopped once you remembered what had happened last night between the both of you and what you had realized. You blushed and threw the covers off yourself quickly, horrified at the sticky mess dripping from your insides, still. Just how many rounds had you gone with him last night? “Hah, Sorry. I just couldn’ hold myself back. My ruts are really bad, which is why I always take a week off.”

“You didn’t have to cum inside me this much Hawks...” You said and cringed at all the fluids dripping out of your abused cunt. You didn’t notice, but his wings shivered, ruffling up a bit at the sight of your leaky pussy, until they settled down again. “It’s your fault ya know? Makin’ me so damn jealous I had to claim you for myself. Claim you before someone else took you.” Your cheeks reddened slightly, and you looked to the side, your heart racing. Of course, he could feel your sensitive heart racing, and slowly leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. Your eyes widened in surprise, melting into his sweet kiss. There was no sexual intention behind the kiss, only a reassurance that you didn’t have to worry about speaking your true feelings, that he already knew you loved him. “You’re my baby bird now. You’ve upgraded chicken wing. Congrats.”

“How many levels are there with you?” You laughed, enjoying this sweet moment with your new lover. He laughed and hopped into bed beside you, pulling you close to him in your little nest. His hands ran over your flat stomach slowly, cooing and flapping his wings lightly. “A lot more, step up your game, baby. You good though? How do you feel knowin’ you have the most popular hero’s cum inside of you. Mixin’ with all your fertile eggs to make my fuckin’ kids.” He growled possessively and wrapped his wings around you protectively, kissing your head and over your face. You couldn’t help but turn red at his words, embarrassed by how blunt he is. “Do... do you really want to have kids Hawks? I mean... we just started... d-dating...”

“Who cares the order, as long as you’re mine and that little bundle of feathers inside you is all mine, order can go fuck itself.” You rolled your eyes, flicking his arm gently. His whistling and cooing got louder the more he cuddled you, his lips peppering your face with kisses. “Ya know they already have story’s about us? They got my whole ‘top bird’ thing on video.” He seemed quite happy with it. The president of the HPSC would not be happy about this once she found out. But knowing Hawks, he couldn’t have given two fucks about it. He raised your chin, smirking smugly. “I also tweeted that we’re dating and that you’re mine, and that we’re gonna have chicks, and that all those other guys better stay away or I’ll kill ‘em.”

You rolled your eyes. “You jealous bird...”

#my hero academia #takami keigo #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo smut #hawks smut #feral hawks #mha hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x you #bnha hawks

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eightfifteen · 2 years ago

Text

It’s as familiar as breathing, can trace his life back to the very start just connecting the moments just like this. Him and Mike. Usually, nothing would calm him more.

He doesn’t have to fear the inevitable urge to touch Mike, as his hand is already being held in both of Mike’s own as he absentmindedly toys with Wills fingers.

As much as the touch grounds him, connects him to Mike and makes butterflies erupt in his stomach. As much as he could have only dreamed about a moment like this a few weeks ago. There’s still something souring the moment now.

His own longing might not be getting in the way, the yearning and guilt that came with it, but his mind still finds a way to ruin the moment. His eyes can’t help but glance between Mike and the open door, and his brain can’t help but catch onto the fact that Mike hasn’t complained about it once.

It’s a beautiful moment. Will knows he’s about to ruin it.

“Mike? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course!”

“Why don’t you- I mean why don’t we -,” Will takes a breath, before finally forcing the words out against his better judgement. “Why don’t you make out with me?”

Mike looks taken aback by the question, a smile tugging at his lips but obvious confusion hold him back from letting it settle into his features. “Right now?”

“No! Yes! I mean-“ Will sighs, eyes trained on the ceiling, refusing to look at Mike. He’s sure his face is beet-red right now, can feel his skin burning in embarrassment. “When you were with El, you could barely stand to go five minutes without sneaking off to kiss her but with me- “ Will trails off, letting the comparison speak for itself. “Am I a bad kisser or something?”

“What? Will!” Mike yells back in pure incredulity. He looks like wants to laugh, but is forcing it back in favour of making sure Will catches his eyes, keeping his face as serieus as he can. “Don’t be stupid! Of course I love making out with you! But I also love talking to you, you know, as we’ve always done. And I kind of need my mouth for that.”

“Oh.” Will says lamely, trying to work through the heavy relief settling over him. He honestly hasn’t been aware just how much this had been weighing on him.

“Unless I learn ventriloquism I guess? That would be cool! Though probably also very distracting if we’re kissing…”

“I mean,” Mike rambles on as he always does. Will manages to glance back at him, surprised to see Mike looking awkward and uncertain. “If I’m talking too much and it’s annoying or whatever you can always tell me to shut up or go away or something -“

Will leans forward to cut him off, kissing Mike deeply, uncaring for the open bedroom door. When he leans back, it’s only enough to look Mike in the eyes, Will’s hand still cupping his cheek as he trails his thumb absentmindedly under the soft skin underneath Mike’s left eye. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Or you can just do that.” Mike manages to breathe out, still watching Will in awe.

“Deal.” Will quickly teases. “Whenever I think you talk too much, I’ll just shut you up. Not that it will happen often - or ever.”

Mike grins devilishly at him. “I’m pretty sure that’s a challenge.”

#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #oneshot #my writing #deal

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toasterdrake · 3 years ago

Text

Other Half of Me

Yelena Belova x gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: alchohol consumption

@crystalisedabyss requested: "Yelena belova x reader maybe about their first date ? or her meeting readers family / friends xx"

A/N: Here it is! I went with meeting friends, but I'd be happy to do family/first date if you'd like as well <3. I hope you like it, my love!

🥂🥂🥂

You'd never seen your girlfriend so nervous.

She was currently pacing around your shared bedroom, wringing her hands and wearing a valley into the carpet.

You'd been dating Yelena for almost a year now. In that time you'd seen her take on -- and effortlessly defeat -- people twice her size. (Not that they're hard to find.) She'd faced every enemy with unwavering determination and fiery gusto. That was what you liked about her: her resolution to stick to her beliefs, never allowing anyone to sway the path she knew was right.

Of course, this led to many disagreements, as both of you refused to adjust your differing stances.

Eventually, worried she'd lose you to discordance, Yelena had confessed to you her trauma-saturated past. She explained how her freewill was forcefully taken, and how once liberated, the thought of another controlling her had been a plague. She admitted to being unable to stand the idea of acting without personal control.

All you'd needed was to understand. That night, all the horrors she'd gone through in the Red Room came pouring out from behind a collapsing dam, and all her strange behaviours became clear. You saw the weapons she hid around her apartment in a new, grievous light. Your heart ached for her.

Following Yelena's revelation, the bond of trust between you two had become unshakeable. With your gentle guidance, Yelena slowly learned that making compromises and admitting wrongs doesn't equal giving in. She had expected you to reject her after seeing her dripping ledger, so when you only offered stronger unconditional care, she found herself falling for you harder.

You'd actually first met when she challenged a club's bouncer to a fight after he refused to believe her ID was real. You'd strolled over, oozing charm, and coolly delivered a line sure to have the beautiful blonde swooning. However, you'd underestimated the distance of the wall; which became clear when you tried leaning on it and instead fell over.

Somehow, your blunder was endearing to the former spy, and one hospital trip for your concussion later, she gave you her number and said to get in touch once you'd recovered.

The experience certainly left you with a tale to tell your friends that night. A tale of a fiery Russian beauty whom you couldn't get out of your head.

After a few days of 'resting your brain', during which you weren't even allowed to watch television or browse your phone, you finally got the all clear and eagerly texted the girl you'd been thinking about all week.

Yelena had taken you to the beach. The day had been nothing short of magical; after a peaceful stroll alongside the steadfast waves, she'd taken your hand to lead you around an amusement park, wide-eyed at every wonder and buzzing like an excited kid. You knew then that you'd be a fool to ever let this girl go.

Until now, the two of you had kept your relationship quiet. Both of you were private people, and while you took great comfort in gushing to your friends in the early stages, it had been incredibly nice to simply be a pair and enjoy your private life together.

However, your friends had recently begun pestering you to meet your partner since everything was going so great and they were all sour single pringles. After a while, you ran out of excuses.

It wasn't that Yelena didn't want to take this step -- she was keen to meet the people who'd gained your trust so intimately -- but she couldn't help feeling apprehensive.

Admittedly, you were nervous too. What if they didn't approve of her? Would they force you to choose one or the other? What would you do then? You knew in your heart things would work out fine, but your head still had uncertainty to stress over.

Sighing, you stand from your place sitting on the bed and halt her vigilant trot by placing your hands on her waist. Yelena instinctively links her arms behind your neck, but doesn't look at you, instead studying the hem of your shirt.

You lean in closer to brush your nose against hers in an eskimo kiss, causing her gaze to flick up and meet yours. You give her a reassuring smile, rubbing your thumb over her flank soothingly. Yelena melts into your touch, inclining her head to ghost her lips over yours briefly.

"They'll love you," You say truthfully.

If they had a problem with Yelena, they would have said so while you spewed about the blonde to them months ago. Things had only gotten better between you two since then. Besides, even if they found something wrong with her they could never change your love for the girl currently liquefying in your arms.

You lean forward, making Yelena stumble and fall back onto the bed. She laughs as you prop yourself up on top of her, straddling her hips and pressing light pecks to every inch of her face. She scrunches her nose cutely as you kiss between her eyes, chest shaking beneath your hands as she tries to hold back giggles.

Finally, you connect your lips to hers again, then stand and smooth out your clothes. Breathing deeply to calm herself, she follows your example with a lingering smile, anxiety successfully eased. You take her hand and lead her out to the car.

Natasha was currently teaching her sister how to drive, after Yelena had proven that she drove dangerous machines like she played Mario Kart, so you were driving.

Everyone had agreed that your friend Quinn's bar was the best venue to meet up at. The Jackson Rose is located in upstate Manhattan, and entertains several affluent patrons looking for somewhere to disappear, so Quinn is well-off enough to offer a generous friendship discount. The bar isn't anything special or fancy, but it has been the site of many treasured group memories over the years, and you are beyond excited to share it with your girlfriend.

After a long, arduous drive through New York traffic, you finally pull up in the bar's parking lot. You chuckle upon seeing your friend Blake's motorcycle parked there as well. Yelena sends you a questioning look, so as you walk inside hand-in-hand you tell her about how you were dared to take it for a joyride, and Blake was so furious she made you work in her garage for a month to make up for the damages.

Yelena smiles softly, watching your eyes glaze over with nostalgia as you talk. It had been so long since those days. You'd all grown up, and -- some of you -- had matured. You feel boring now, looking back on your glory days as chaotic juveniles. It almost makes you long for the instability of not having your life figured out.

The inside of The Jackson Rose, or Jake as you'd nicknamed it, is dark. The lights are dim, sucked up hungrily by the dark wallpaper, mahogany flooring, and carmine furniture. It provides a sort of intimate privacy. The place resembles a 1980s diner, complete with booths and stools alongside a bar stretching the length of the building. A vintage jukebox sits in the far corner, permeating the bar with something by Mariah Carey. Though the music almost drowns out the low hum of conversation generated by various patrons.

You spot your friends gathered around their claimed booth immediately, and wave enthusiastically with your free hand, the other holding onto Yelena's tightly so she can't bolt.

Blake notices you first, greeting you via cocky salute before looking at Yelena with a smirk. She jumps down from where she was straddling the top of the leather bench, doc martens clicking on the floor, and stands at her full height of… 5'2".

Eyeing up Yelena as if she stood miles taller than the Russian, Blake blows her ebony hair out of her face and extends a hand to shake. Yelena meets her halfway, shaking stiffly, and you see Blake's face contort subtly in pain. It's smoothly replaced with approval once she's released.

The others finally notice your arrival when Blake pulls you in for a hug, slapping your back heartily. You grin at the smattering of cheers, the bar filling with ruckus as they all greet you.

"Hey, losers," You say cheerily, leading Yelena over to the booth. Uncharacteristically shy, she hangs back behind you, only tethered by her hand clasped in yours.

They all stuff themselves into the other side of the booth for a clear view of you and Yelena, leaving you two to slide onto the opposite bench. There isn't room for Julius, though -- he moved too late -- so ze drags over a barstool and perches on that.

You spare a glance at the etched 'Jake' you'd carved into the wall to drunkenly christen the bar when it first opened. You wonder when Quinn will notice it; the others have an ongoing bet about that. No one has blown up the group chat about it, so you know the stakes still stand.

You notice Yelena sits on the outside so that she wouldn't have to climb over you to escape, so you reach for her hand under the table. She intertwines your fingers, shooting you a grateful look that you rub your thumb over her knuckles in response to.

The music changes to a Green Day song.

Yelena diligently studies the drinks menu to avoid the borderline-suspicious stares of your friends. Continuing your rhythmic movements, you answer any questions they throw her way. After a while, she gathers the courage to speak for herself. You can't help but bristle at how intense they get with your girlfriend, but she handles the pressure just fine.

Eventually, Quinn comes over from serving other patrons, and asks for drink orders. Everyone calls out various alcoholic concoctions, other than yours and Julius' sodas as designated drivers.

The music stutters when Yelena asks for the 'Hell's Blaze'. That cocktail is famed for being a devil's drink; burning all the way down and destroying your insides while it goes. It was what had put The Jackson Rose on the map.

You squeeze Yelena's hand to get her to look at you. She's wearing a smug smirk. You relax a little. As long as she has an idea of what she's getting into.

Your friends jeer as Quinn brings over the shot glass, increasing in volume at your warning glare. Only to collectively gasp as Yelena doesn't waste any time to down the alcohol in one shot, throwing her head back and replacing the glass with a satisfactory chink.

The suspense is tangible; everyone including you is on the edge of their seats. You all hold your breath as Yelena processes the drink. Finally, she looks up with a grin and requests another.

Your friends go wild, crowding around her to clap her shoulder and yell praise. You smile when she engages cheerily with them. She'd earned their respect just for that, and she knows it.

"They're easy people to impress," You tease, more so directed at your friends than your girlfriend. Your grin widens impishly at their complaints.

"Hey! No one's ever withstood the Hell's Blaze!" Matteo whines, before skipping over to the jukebox.

He plugs in some upbeat dance music that gets everybody moving. You're quickly swept up in the electric energy, jumping around with Yelena and your friends like you're teenagers at a house party you've snuck out to again. Quinn weaves between attending to his customers and joining you all.

Yelena quickly gets drunk on multiple Hell's Blazes. (You suspect she's going to have a rough ride in the morning, and vow to do your best to help when it hits.) You trust your friends to look after her, but you still watch over them with a careful eye from the bar when you take a break to chat with Quinn, who's still on the clock. You're more glad than ever to be her designated driver.

You set down your soda when Yelena stumbles over and climbs onto your lap. She wraps her legs around your waist in a death grip that you don't think she's aware of exerting. She begins to play idly with the baby hairs at the back of your neck, resting her chin on your shoulder to peer Quinn as he mixes drinks.

Blake strolls over under the pretense of a refill for her beer, shooting you a teasing look that makes you roll your eyes. She's only had a few drinks, which is holding back for her because she has to drive. You hadn't missed her looking out for your girlfriend.

"I think I'd better take her home," You murmur to her, stroking Yelena's back as she nuzzles deeper into you.

Blake nods in understanding. She promises to pass on your goodbyes, then leaves you to walk Yelena out to the car after opening the door for you. You shoot her a grateful look as she does so, and she pats your back, smiling.

You lower Yelena into the passenger side, having to keep adjusting her arms as she tries reaching for you while you buckle her in. You almost melt at her pout, but hold your resolve to walk around the car to the driver's side. When you get there, Yelena is fiddling with the radio even though you haven't turned the engine on yet.

You turn the key for her, and she soon settles on something smooth jazzy with a faraway smile. You watch her wistfully for a moment, then focus on pulling out of the lot.

The traffic flows easily now, and Yelena's head lolls back onto the headrest. Incandescent light washes over her past every street light, darkness shrouding her between them. When you risk glancing over at her, you see her squinting in a valiant attempt to keep watching the road. You reach across the center console to place your hand on her thigh. This seems to work, because her half-lidded eyes flutter shut. Before long her breathing slows into soft snores.

You sigh, endlessly pleased with how the night had turned out. All your friends had loved Yelena; she'd been integrated into your group so smoothly it was almost as if she'd been there since high school. You'd had your doubts about their possible reactions, but you couldn't have wished for better.

You loved your friends, and you loved your girlfriend, and they liked each other. All was right with your world; your two halves harmonising seamlessly.

🥂🥂🥂

Taglist: @themagnificentmx @astupidworkinprogress

love,

- bi-rd ☕

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova fluff #bi-rd writes

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merakiui · 4 years ago

Note

hii could we get an angsty scenario/hcs of xiao and scaramouche/any characters you prefer! who are basically head over heels for someone but that person keeps getting with the wrong people and constantly getting their heart broken? Preferably with a good/fluffy ending but it’s up to you!

cw: angst + heartbreak note - decided to go for scenarios! (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

[Xiao]

One Call Away—

The sudden shout of his name had brought him out into the open, where he finds you sitting in a field of wildflowers, your head hung and quiet sobs racking your hunched form.

“You called?” The gruffness in his voice startles you and your head snaps up. He notices your pained expression and the tears that refuse to cease, and it gives birth to a strange feeling within his chest. “What happened? Surely I am not too late.” And then he shakes his head. “No, I’m never late.”

“Ah... I’m sorry.” You sniffle, pitifully rubbing at your eyes. “I guess your name slipped out. I didn’t mean to bother you. I just didn’t mean to call for you either.”

Xiao raises a brow and then surveys the surrounding area. “Well, it doesn’t look like you’re in any mortal peril. In that case, I’ll leave you to—”

“No!”

Your sudden shout startles the both of you, with you drawing back and Xiao’s eyes widening ever so slightly. He wonders why you’re crying when beautiful scenery surrounds you. Are you truly that pathetic? Are mortals usually this weak-hearted? Xiao can’t wrap his head around the idea of grief; he’s an immortal who has seen plenty of hazardous scenarios worth grieving over. Yet with the passage of time he has learned to let such emotions drift away on a wind current. Emotions are useless to an adeptus.

But now he’s stuck with them.

“No?”

“D-Don’t go...” Your voice wobbles and you wipe at your reddened eyes. “I don’t want to bother you, but could you stay here with me? For a little while, at least. It’s all I’ll ask...”

He feels like he should decline your desperate plea before it spreads its perplexing roots throughout his system. The words are practically on the tip of his tongue and he struggles to verbalize them. If he could, he’d shake his head and vanish from your sight. There’s something about your expression that forces him to stay, and he truly detests the way his emotions run wild at the prospect of something he can’t quite comprehend.

“Fine.”

And so Xiao listens to you. It’s something he does best; his eyes and ears are open as he gives you his full, undivided attention. Half of him observes your reactions as you explain what happened and the other half zeros in on the way your subtle hand motions. While he might not be anywhere near a cupid—and he would never be caught giving out relationship advice to mortals, which is something he couldn’t do even if he tried—he is still a being of immense power. From what he’s able to understand from your explanation, your loved one decided to part from you because they believed it just wasn’t working. And you, having been struck with an immense sadness, failed to call out to them to clear up any misunderstandings.

Eventually, after internally wrestling with his own thoughts and feelings, he asks, “Do you want me to teach them a lesson? Should you need them to feel the same amount of despair you’re feeling—”

“Oh, no! No. No. They don’t deserve to be punished for that. I understand now that our feelings weren’t the same. We really weren’t working and that’s okay. It just...hurts.”

Xiao tilts his head, an innocently childish show of confusion. “Where?”

“It’s not a physical pain, Xiao. I mean, it could be. But...this is more emotional.” Your hand reaches out, fingers wrapping around his wrist. He stares down at your hand and he almost pulls away. Before he can even consider what’s happening, you’re guiding his hand to where your heart is. “In here. It hurts now, but I’ll overcome it eventually. I’m used to it anyways...”

The straight-faced adeptus remains still as he feels the fast-paced beat of your heart. Mortals have always been weak in his eyes: feeble beings who break at the slightest inconvenience. Although you don’t seem close to shattering and that confuses him more than he’d like to admit. Perhaps you are one of the more resilient humans he’s come across in recent years. It’s strange when he feels your heartbeat, so very certain and alive with the sour feelings a heartbreak brings. He’s never understood that either. Heartbreaks and relationships. The differences between friendship and romance. Both can be seen through to the very end, if fostered healthily.

So then why are you so sad?

Truthfully, you’ve always seemed sad to Xiao. As an adeptus, he’s never been able to fully grasp the meaning behind human emotions. They’re insignificant in his eyes, mere flashes of feeling that can hurt and blind. They’re troublesome and useless—certainly not something he would ever want to experience. But those emotions can heal and bring cheer. They’re not all entirely bad, nor are they as evil as he seems to think they are.

Xiao realizes his hand has been on your chest for a while now and he’s been staring at you so much that you’ve begun to shrink away, partially embarrassed to have him analyze you with so much scrutiny.

“Is...something wrong?”

He shakes his head slowly at first before retracting his arm. And then he notices you’ve stopped crying. He’s not sure when this happened, but he’s oddly relieved to see your neutral expression. Somehow your crying face is painful and it wounds him in a way he never would have imagined.

“Thank you for listening to my rant. I know this is probably meaningless to you, since you’re an adeptus and all, but it really means a lot. So I’m glad I was able to get these things off my chest. I feel a lot lighter now.”

“You’re not sad?”

“Ah. Well...” Your gaze flickers, eyes darting to and fro while you struggle to look at him. “I’m still sad, but I’ll get over it! Don’t worry! I’m resilient!”

Xiao’s brow furrows in confusion. As he has thought plenty of times before, mortals are far too complex. Eventually he sighs and says, “It’s okay to cry. Don’t keep that inside, okay? You’ll just hurt yourself even more.” Now he’s avoiding your gaze and there’s a barely noticeable tinge of pink dusting his pale cheeks. He’s really not good at consoling humans.

“Oh, Xiao.” You pull him in for a hug and he stiffens, trying to squeeze out of your arms like a cat near water. But then he feels your fingers digging into his arm and he realizes that you might actually need this hug. Despite the fact that he’s not used to freely giving out hugs—or even cheering up mortals, for that matter—he is definitely out of his element. “Really, thank you. I promise to make you an Almond Tofu as thanks.”

“There’s no need for that.” Hesitantly, as if he’s worried he’ll break you, he wraps his arms around your form. “I’m just helping you because you called my name. That’s all.”

But that’s not the full truth. Hidden in those words is the real reason why he even bothered to stay despite the false alarm. And it worries Xiao when he thinks about the implications. He really does like you and this admiration has surpassed platonic love. As long as you’re okay, though, he’ll swallow his feelings in favor of making sure you’re always happy. It’s one of his duties as your friend.

Friend. A word Xiao never thought he’d ever use, but it feels nice. He likes it.

Yet The Distance Remains Harrowing.

[Scaramouche]

To Mend a Broken Heart—

You’re spilling your emotional guts in front of the Sixth of the Fatui Harbingers, tears freely running down your cheeks like two faulty water faucets. It’s a pathetic sight, really. Scaramouche witnessed this exact show just a few weeks ago when you were so certain that that fisher was the one. Now, after meeting and getting together with someone else for a short time, you’ve come out of yet another relationship, unhappy and unsatisfied.

He’s jealous. There’s no denying the envy he feels when you talk so highly of these people and then wail about them a few days later. It’s a vicious cycle of mending a fragile heart and then breaking it into pieces all over again. With no end in sight, you fall victim to your own demise in the pursuit of love. He wonders if you’ll ever learn to choose your next partner carefully rather than settling for anything with a pulse.

“This is exactly what I said would happen, was it not?” he says with a sigh. “Oh, woe is you. If you were smarter, this last relationship might have lasted longer.”

“That’s rich coming from you. I’ve never seen you in a relationship before,” you mutter, wiping angrily at your eyes. His eyelid twitches at the not-so-subtle jab. “Ugh!I hate being so unlucky! This is the worst.”

“Rather than your foul luck, I think the problem lies within you and your taste in partners.”

Sniffling, you lower your head onto the table, hoping to just melt into the crafted wood before you end up making even more of a fool out of yourself. It’s rare to be in the company of Scaramouche, considering how often he’s assigned missions that require swift travel and a covert profile. But whenever you do find yourself sitting across from him, indulging in light snacks and tea, it’s always because you’ve lost your latest lover; and your own sadness requires the nullifying effects of Scaramouche’s cynicism.

“They’re good people! I just don’t know why it never works out. We’re happy and we both like each other—it doesn’t make any sense. Am I missing something? Is it my fault? They probably got tired of me because I’m not a good person.“

“Perhaps.” He takes a moment to sip his tea and you muster a weak glare. Only Scaramouche can delight in his beverage while you’re holding back another onslaught of tears. “Your crocodile tears are hardly flattering and your apparent need for consistent affection might come off as clingy. And you have a tendency to find flaws within yourself whenever something doesn’t go your way. Adding onto that, you doubt yourself a lot and you’re always quick to take the blame for things that are out of your control. In a way you are partially—”

“I get it. I’m not a good person.”

“I never said anything of that sort. Now you’re just asking for pity.”

Oh, how close you are to punching that smirk off of his face.

“Then since you seem to know everything, my oh so helpful friend, why don’t you tell me what I’m missing?”

“With pleasure.” His cup finds the surface of the table as he ponders your demand for a moment. “You’re missing someone who meshes well with your personality.”

“That’s not true. Everyone I’ve been with so far—“ His skeptical look makes you stop short. “Okay. Maybe we forced it because we thought it was love. But that’s besides the point! There was still an attraction! I think...” You huff and bury your face in your arms, nearly almost sprawling on the table. You’re too depressed to even consider how impolite your actions look, and Scaramouche scoffs at your poor display of manners. “Where am I even going to find someone who ‘meshes well with my personality,’ hm?”

“I’m sure you’ve already found them.” He clears his throat, tracing a finger along a sanded knot in the wooden table. “You’re sitting across from him.”

Whether he intended for you to hear that whispered part, you can’t say for sure. But your head perks up and you fix him with a lopsided grin. “You’re kidding.”

“Hm?”

“Me and you, a couple?” A small giggle escapes your lips and you swipe the remaining tears out of your eyes. “Don’t joke about that. I’m trying to be sad here!”

It wasn’t a joke, he almost says and he catches himself, suddenly self-conscious.

“I don’t think we’d work out,” you continue, motioning between you and him. “We’d hardly see each other and you don’t seem like the type for romance. Besides, I’m not attracted to you in that way. You feel the same, right?”

Scaramouche stares into his cup before he meets your gaze, a tight smile gracing his expression. “Of course. Your inability to settle isn’t all that attractive.”

Your eyes roll and you finally pick up your own cup to take a large gulp of lukewarm tea. The bitter Harbinger observes your actions with narrowed eyes. There’s a distinct pain that taps at his hardened soul, splitting it apart as your words echo within his spinning head. I don’t think we’d work out. I’m not attracted to you in that way. Why is he suddenly feeling...upset? He’s not one for pitiful emotions; he’s a Harbinger, not a lovesick fool! He ought to glare at you and storm off, demanding the two of you never speak again. But he won’t say that because he doesn’t want to hurt you. Because he cares for you. Because he loves you.

You feel the same, right?

No, that’s not right. This is the love he’s been wallowing in since he first got acquainted with you. It’s strange when he remembers every event that has led up to the blossoming feelings that reside deep in the epicenter of his heart, but it’s even more strange that he can’t find the courage to voice his own opinion.

“We wouldn’t mix,” he reaffirms your statement with a cold tone. There is no warmth in his eyes. “After all, your taste in tea is as bad as your taste in partners.”

And even though he wishes you could see through his walls—just this once he’ll allow you to tear them down for the sake of a half-baked confession—you just sit there and grin, no longer teary-eyed and forlorn. How odd. His heart feels far heavier than it’s ever been before. And you’re already scanning your surroundings, hungry for a love that will never keep you sated. Perhaps you weren’t even sad in the first place.

Upon realizing this, Scaramouche wants nothing more than to disappear into the wood like a feeble worm and never come back out.

You Must Break Another.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenario #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #xiao scenario #xiao #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche scenario #scaramouche

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bump1nthen1ght · 3 years ago

Text

I’m Still Hurting (Orc x Reader) Part 2

Pairings: Fem!Reader/Male!Orc

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Angst

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2107 words

Summary: You and your boyfriend establish a new normal

A/N: At long last, the highly requested part two! I had a bit of struggle coming up with a proper followup to the first part (which was part of why I left it with an open-ended ending in the first place lol). Little less angst this time, I felt these two deserved a little sweetness after the last chapter. Hope y'all enjoy!

Part 1

The first thing that caught your eye when you walked by the music store was the Grand Piano. It was gorgeous: Polished mahogany, a nice velvet seat, and keys that looked like they had never seen the sticky fingers of a curious 8 year old.

“Wow, is that new?”

You nod, admiring the old-fashioned air of the instrument. You knew jack shit about music, but even you could tell that this piano was an antique, one probably worth a good chunk of change.

“Must be. I’ve never seen it before and this place is on my way to work.”

Waruck hmms, pressing his hands up against the glass. His eyes sparkle when he sees the “Free to Play” sign right next to the piano. It probably reminds him of his Grandpa’s, the one he played when you guys visited his family for Christmas.

That was a long time ago.

“Want to go in?”

Waruck pulls away from the glass, eyebrows raised. He rubs the back of his neck and steps a couple feet back, trying to curb his enthusiasm.

“Uh, we don’t have to-”

“I don’t mind. It's been a while-” You pause, the slight-anxiety in the air making every casual word difficult, “It’s been a while since I’ve heard you play.”

Waruck smiles, small and polite, and opens the door of the shop for you. Before, he might have done a little bow and said “Ladies First” in a British accent.

But that was before, and this is now. Now, every comment is walking on eggshells, whispered tentatively and under your breath. Testing the waters for how comfortable you two could get around each other.

Still, it was exponential growth from two months ago.

--------

After your meeting at the coffee shop, you had asked Waruck for a month; A month of privacy, for you to collect your thoughts and feelings, to be alone for a bit. He had agreed immediately, shuffling out of the cafe with a hunched back and a melancholy air, but he had kept his promise. You took the time to focus on other things, shifting your relationship to the back of your mind and enjoying the day-to-day.

But a part of you felt a little bad, like maybe you were stringing Waruck along for an inevitable breakup. Getting his hopes up for an extra tortuous punishment that left a sour taste in your mouth. So on one brave Saturday night, you sent him a meme you saw on Instagram, one that reminded you of him.

That second month saw the two of you texting more and more frequently, sending little jokes, asking how your day was, so and so. Each week rebuilt a little bit more of that familiarity, that comfortableness. It finally got to the point where Waruck asked if you were free one weekend. He just wanted to get some lunch and stroll around the neighborhood for a bit. For the first time in a while, that idea didn’t seem too bad.

--------

The air is considerably cooler inside the store, a tiny bell ringing as a rush of air-conditioned air hits both of you. Waruck makes a beeline for the piano, his footsteps short and quick. You feel a smile crawl on your face; He always acted like an excited kid when it came to music.

Waruck plops down in the center of the stool, fingers lightly brushing over the keys in awe. You walk up the piano’s side, laying your hand on the wood and admiring the lack of smudge marks on the polished wood. Waruck tests out a G note and although the sound is short, it’s extremely pleasant. Waruck’s smile grows even larger.

“When I was a young boy…”

You mutter under your breath. Waruck chuckles, quickly continuing onto a G flat.

“My father took me into the city,” Waruck hums

“To see a marching band.” The two of you sing together, laughing a little bit too loudly and gaining a sharp look from the tired sales clerk. Waruck waves a little apology, but that playful grin stays on his face.

“Wow, that brings back some repressed Hot Topic memories.”

“Seriously. I can almost feel the book my band teacher used to thwack me with. Me and my buddies would sneak into the choir room and play that all the time.” Waruck’s fingers dance over a couple more notes, aimless.

You’ve always liked watching Waruck play. His fingers were so dextrous and controlled, not to mention long and nicely articulated. He’d probably make good money from a hand-model side-gig.

“Want to take a seat?”

You shift your focus away from Waruck’s hands. He’s made space on the bench and pats the open space next to him.

“Yeah, sure.” You say, despite the fast pace your heart is now beating.

You keep a solid two inches of distance between your bodies, keeping your thighs together as to not brush your legs with his. It felt like a middle school dance, keeping a bible length away from your partner to avoid the disapproving stare of the chaperones.

Waruck nods, absentmindedly running his fingers up the scale. “Any requests?”

Immediately, all non-love songs depart from your brain. One of your favorite pieces sits on the tip of your tongue and your brain refuses to let it go. You shake your head.

“Nope. It’s all yours, music man.”

Waruck chuckles, a little louder and a lot more comfortable, as he sits deeper in his seat.

“Prepare,” Waruck cracks his knuckles, “to be amazed.”

You bite back a laugh. He’s still such a dork.

He starts to play, his hands easily finding the right keys, moving like a well-oiled machine. Your heart nearly skips a beat before it melts into a puddle of sentiment.

It’s your favorite.

The song brings back memories of your childhood, a rainy day in, and delicious food. It’s like chicken soup for the soul and you can feel any of the left over tension leave your body.

Waruck’s eyebrows furrow with concentration, but he has a large smile on his face, his large tusks peeking out from his lips. His arm stretches across the piano as the song hits its most fast-paced part. His biceps and shoulders lean more into your space, but the feeling isn’t unwelcome. It feels natural, as if his presence and yours is part of the piece itself.

Waruck’s thigh brushes against yours, but his pace doesn’t falter and neither does yours. You stay enraptured, watching how easily he slips into the music. You barely even notice how you have begun to lean closer to his side; Your mind says it’s to give his arms plenty of space to play, but it’s still far more comfortable than you are willing to admit.

How easy it feels, in the moment, to fall back into routine.

The song begins slowing to a stop, only a couple seconds left, when the sounds of the music shop return to you. A giggle from not too far rings discordant with Waruck’s piano.

Three girls stand not too far from you, watching with fascination as Waruck plays.

“Wow, he is so good!” One whispers to her friends.

There is nothing even remotely lascivious in their eyes or in their words, but a knife still twists in your gut. Your throat constricts as flashes of your bedroom, of unanswered texts, and a picture of a bar corner booth send needles down your spine and into your heart.

Is this wrong? Is this giddy feeling you have only distracting you from reality? Is it like this song, Waruck’s playing, beautiful but temporary?

“Ugh, I want what they have.”

“I know, right? How romantic.”

They’re wrong, you’re wrong, this is wrong; It’s fake, fake, fa-

Your eyes dart to and fro, trying to desperately avoid Waruck’s quickly overwhelming body heat and your audience, before it catches on the distorted shape of your reflection in the window.

The glass is old, slightly drooping, even the golden lettering of the music shop’s name looks dusty and sun-bleached.

But what is unmistakable is you and Waruck. Waruck, playing piano, and looking at you. Looking at you with the love in his eyes you thought had died, or had never been there at all. The group of girls stands in the background, small and out of focus.

And Waruck is staring at you.

“Are you okay?” Waruck asks, his warm hand on your shoulder.

You whip your neck around, almost getting whiplash.

You’re here, in the music store, with your boyfriend. He looks at you, brow slightly puzzled from your wild eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I,” You suck in a deep breath, “Sorry, I guess I got lost in my own head. That song gets me kind of nostalgic.”

Waruck pats your shoulder and you miss it’s heat when he pulls it back to his side. He smiles, but you can tell he is still slightly worried.

“No problem, I get it.”

You notice now how much closer Waruck is to you. His chest has shifted towards yours, the fabric of his shirt sleeve pressing against the skin of your bicep. Waruck’s knee absentmindedly knocks into yours, but the contact doesn’t sting or jolt you. Not even the continuing silence makes the situation awkward.

It’s nice.

“Do you want to check out the record aisle? They might actually have that piece on vinyl.”

Waruck gestures with his thumb to the piles of CD’s and records not too far from you two. You nod

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

--------

The two of you spend about an hour in the music store, pointing out hilarious cover art and admiring some vintage finds. Waruck even gets you to chuckle a couple of times, slowly bringing out his old cheesy puns.

Waruck’s missed this.

You two walk out of the music store at the tail end of one of Waruck’s jokes, you playfully punching his shoulder.

The two of you wander, in the opposite direction of your cars, for a little while. But Waruck hasn’t lost track of time; No, he’s soaking in every moment he can, every smile and lingering look you give him. Every reminder that this is real.

He spent a week agonizing over what he did. Stuck in silence as he gave you your space. His friends (His real friends, not those assholes from the bar) had offered to come by and keep him company, but he turned it down.

When Waruck got back into routine, it was slow-rolling. It was difficult to fight the instinct to check his phone for a good-morning text, or check your Instagram for any ‘post-breakup’ partying.

No, he had already broken your trust once. The least he could do was give you some time. Spend some hour not wallowing in self-pity, but actively make a change.

Waruck began to accept those invites to a chill hang out, playing some poker and sipping on beer with the gang. He played his keyboard when the thoughts got too loud and went jogging when the music wasn’t loud enough. He called his mom a couple of times, even sent his sister a couple of texts to catch up. They hadn’t spoken outside of holidays for almost three years.

Maybe he was the one that needed time.

God, why did you have to be so smart?

“Oh shit, how long have we been walking?” You mutter, checking your watch for the time. Waruck turns around you, already knowing the answer was 27 minutes, exactly. The both of you were nearing the edge of the neighborhood, cafes and shops turning into residential suburbs. “Dang, time really flies, huh?”

Waruck smiles.

“With you? It always does.”

You give him a half smile, patting his bicep. “Oh my god, you’re such a cheeseball.”

Waruck winks and shoots you some finger guns.

“You know it babe.”

You giggle, checking your watch once more, face turning just a little bit.

“I should probably head back, I’m getting dinner with some friends tonight.”

A small part of Waruck yearns for more time, but he lets it go.

Space, this was about establishing space.

“I had a lot of fun today, Waruck.” You step a little closer, Waruck’s heart skips a beat.

“Me too.” He whispers, his breath catching as your fingers brush against his.

It’s a simple gesture, one you’ve down a million times. But when your palm slips into his, your finger’s interlocking, it’s like fireworks have gone off.

“Same time, next week?”

Waruck nods, not trusting himself to speak without a voice crack.

That’s all he needed, all you wanted; The promise of the future.

“Yes, I would love that.”

#my writing #orc x reader #reader insert #female reader insert #orc/human #monster/human #monster x reader #monster/reader #angst #orc

346 notes · View notes