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dragonologist-in-the-making · 3 years ago

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Paper Rings

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Summary: On his first ride to Hogwarts, James befriended the girl who was obsessed with shiny things. Over their schooling together, their friendship turned into so much more.

A/N: lmao I suck at summaries. Also I’m back sorry for the random hiatus (and sorry that posting will almost definitely not be consistent after this either). I had this idea months ago, inspired by Taylor Swift’s Paper Rings, and I only just got around to writing it asdfghjkl. Still obsessed with James though rip me I just want someone to love me like this.

Warnings: Mentions of eating (briefly), otherwise just a lot of fluff.

Wordcount: 4k (wow)

...

Little James Potter waved goodbye to his parents as the train took off from the platform, nervous about his first journey to the infamous Hogwarts, but excited to discover all the great things his parents had told him for himself. First though: finding a carriage.

Trying not to show his nerves, he wandered along the corridor, peeping into the carriages to see if there was one he could join. For the most part, he found them all too full, too loud to juggle his nerves, or the students too old and intimidating. The days would come where James would rule the corridors of the castle, but the eleven year old boy on the train was just hoping to make a friend he could share this new adventure with.

As fate would have it, he found just that and so much more. In a carriage to herself sat a young girl, his age, her face turned away from him looking out the window. The only thing he could see was a petite sparkling bow, sitting neatly in her (y/h/c) hair.

Without thinking about it, he knocked gently on the compartment door, sliding it open as she turned to look at him inquisitively. Her (y/e/c) eye’s glittered as her lips pulled into a smile, creating a complete sense of comfort for James to ask. “Do you mind if I sit?” She nodded eagerly, gathering up a few books she had dumped on the opposite seat and dropping them into her lap. “I’m James.” He smiled.

“(y/n). It’s nice to meet you.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a short while, listening to the laughs of older students, friends reuniting after a summer apart, and watching the landscape whip by them out the window.

“I like your bow, by the way.” James spoke up, feeling glad he did when an excited smile broke across her face, looking as if he’d told her she’d won the lottery.

“Thank you! I love the way it sparkles.” She said, gently pulling it from her hair and twisting it in the sunlight, showing how rainbows danced in the glitter and were thrown across their compartment. Satisfied, she used it to clip back the hair that was now falling into her face, and their conversation moved on, following each and every thought they were having, becoming fast friends. James didn’t think the journey could get any better until two boys showed up at their door and asked if they could join them, setting everlasting friendships in stone.

As the train pulled up to Hogwarts, any nervousness James had been feeling was gone. Instead, the only thought he had was that he couldn’t be more glad he sat in the compartment of the girl with the sparkling bow.

…

Their first year passed in a blur, and the Marauders spent the majority of it in each other’s company, laughing their days away.

Now, summer had come and gone, and their second year at Hogwarts was in full swing. They walked into their charms class together, laughing about a joke Sirius had made at James’ expense. (y/n) sat next to the curly-haired boy at their desk, as Remus Sirius and Peter sat at the one adjacent to them.

“Hey, it’s not my fault I didn’t make the team last year! No first year has made a house team in like 80 years! I’m telling you though, I’ll make it on this year, and I’ll be the best chaser this school has ever seen.” James protested, huffing as he put his textbook in the middle of the table for him and (y/n) to share. She laughed at him softly, hand patting his shoulder as the other boys got lost in their own conversation.

“I know you will, Jamie. And I’ll be there cheering you on every step of the way.” His cheeks redenned at her words, but luckily their attention was turned away by Professor Flitwick.

“Now students, the charm I’ll be teaching you today is more of a fun one to start off the year than anything you’ll likely need in your everyday lives. As always, I don’t expect you to create chaos by using these charms” – he turned his gaze to a particular group of students at this point who were all busily looking elsewhere – “but simply to enlighten yourselves and to show you what magic can do. So, the charm we’ll be learning today is how to make things glitter.”

James heard an almost inaudible gasp next to him, and he could feel the excitement radiating off (y/n). He chuckled, expecting nothing less; he’d known her for a year now, and if it wasn’t the bow in her hair there was always something shiny on her at any given time.

Flitwick talked about the details of the charm, how it could be applied subtly, only giving a faint sheen, or how it could be made much more obvious. Finally, he gave them the charm and told everyone to repeat after him. “Now, like I said, just because this is a fun charm doesn’t mean it’s an easy one, and I don’t expect you to get it on your first attempt. Just keep repeating the charm and-oh!” He broke off suddenly, just as James’ vision went hazy. Once he’d focused, he saw he was surrounded by a cloud of individual glitter specs floating around them, almost as if they were in their own galaxy. His gaze shifted to its centre, shining most brilliantly of all as her proud and excited smile dazzled him, making him forget entirely they were still in their charms classroom.

“Well done Miss (y/n)!” Flitwick’s voice broke through their bubble, and slowly each star seemed to fade out of existence, until they were back in their regular old classroom, thirty pairs of eyes trained on them. “You certainly felt the spirit of the charm and went above and beyond. 10 points to (y/h). Now, if you could help Mr Potter whilst we all get back to it!”

Chatter burst out the classroom almost immediately, partners working together trying to enchant an object of theirs to take on the glittery effect. Sirius turned to her, rolling his eyes half-heartedly.

“Becoming a teachers pet now are we, (y/l/n)?” She rolled her eyes back, waving her wand to produce a cloud of glitter that settled in Sirius’ hair, contrasting sharply against its darkness.

“It’s sparklesSirius, what did you expect? Now c’mon, this is the one lesson I won’t let you not do the work in. Make some glittery greatness and I’ll bake you all some cookies when I next steal James’ cloak to go to the kitchens.” With those words, the three boys turned their entire focus to the task at hand, while James still seemed slightly awestruck next to her. “You alright, J?”

“That was amazing (y/n/n). I had no idea you could do that.”

“Well I guess you can’t know until you try.” She shrugged, picking up her quill and placing it in front of him. “Charm my quill.”

“Why me? You could just do it yourself.” James asked, confused why she didn’t do it herself since she was clearly more than capable. Once again, she shrugged, looking into his eyes as she uttered the words so nonchalantly that would stick with him for years to come.

“Well, Flitwick said you needed to practise. Plus, it’ll mean more to me if every time I look at my quill I know that you’re the reason it’s shining.”

Within a heartbeat, James had uttered the incantation and a subtle shimmer had settled over the feather, imperceptible until it was moved and caught the light. The smile he saw when he looked over at (y/n) made him vow to himself that as long as he was around, she would never have an ordinary quill again.

True to his word, every time she brought out a new quill, he was quick to snatch it from her and place the simple charm on it. It became an unspoken promise between the two of them, and every time James saw that sparkle from the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

. . .

True to her word, (y/n) was there for all of James’ games, cheering him on from the side of the pitch, always the first to reach him when the game was over. High or low, win or lose, she was always there to remind him that he had played amazingly, and that she was proud of him.

After one such game in their fourth year, Gryffindor narrowly losing to Slytherin, she was at his side so quickly that he would have thought she had apparated if he knew this wasn’t possible. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, feeling the slight shaking of his shoulders. “Oh, James.” She quickly ushered him off the pitch before he attracted eyes, assuring him that Sirius and Remus would collect his things from the changing room and bring them back to his dorm. Once they reached his dorm, she sent him to shower, promising that she would be there for him once he was back.

Sure enough, he came out of the shower in fresh clothes and damp hair, and she was still on his bed, patiently waiting for him. She held her hand out to him, a silent invitation, and as soon as he took it she pulled him to her side and once again enveloped him in a hug.

“I’m so proud of you, Jamie.” She whispered, squeezing him momentarily before drawing back and looking into his glassy eyes.

“Shouldn’t be.” He murmured, avoiding her gaze. “We lost.”

“And yet you scored more goals than anyone else the entire game.” She pointed out, sincerity lacing her voice. “It’s just because the snitch is worth a stupid amount of points, honestly the game has a lot of flaws.” James smiled weakly, they often had these debates about Quidditch and it always ended in some silly way.

“I did hit Malfoy in the head with a Quaffle.” He admitted, and (y/n) could see the weight falling off his shoulders.

“The highlight of all our years.” She laughed, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a little box. “I got you something.” She handed it to him, and he pushed it back to her, head shaking, doubt returned.

“No I didn’t do anything to deserve it. Keep it.”

“We already had this argument and I’m not taking no for an answer.” She shoved the box into his hands and folded her arms across her chest, waiting for him to open it.

Reluctantly, he pulled the lid off the box to reveal a snitch, the snitch he normally kept on his person at all times, now shining with a slight iridescence. James looked up at her, thankful but a little confused at the present.

“I’ve actually been saving it for when you lose a game. Which has been hard because that’s hardly ever.” She broke off to give him a playful glare along with her words, quickly broken by her soft smile. “I know you play with the snitch when you have a lot on your mind, and when you start to doubt yourself. I wanted to remind you that you’re incredible and you should believe that yourself. So, when you see the snitch and you see it sparkle, you’ll think of me, and you’ll remember how great you are.” He was speechless, and in the silent air, she did what the two of them did best, and started to nervously babble. “Well, that’s assuming you think of me when you see sparkles, and quite frankly after all this time I’d be slightly offended if you didn’t-oof” her rambling stopped when James tackled her into a hug, knocking them both back onto the bed.

“Thank you.” Was all he said, but she could hear the emotion behind each word, everything he was trying to communicate. All she did was hold him tighter.

It was then that Sirius and Remus walked into the dorm, carrying all of James’ equipment from the game, causing James and (y/n) to jump away from each other. Blushes arose on both their faces, not that the other would have noticed, each too busy looking at opposite walls of the dorm. Sirius and Remus exchanged a knowing look, but decided to let it slide, knowing there was an inevitability to it anyway.

…

Once again, (y/n) was boarding the Hogwarts express for another year of school. She knew this year would be a stressful one, with their OWL exams coming up, but she also knew that as long as she had her boys by her side, she would be absolutely fine.

Speaking of her friends, she was currently walking along the train trying to find them. She knew that Lily and Remus were prefects now so they’d be at the front of the train, but she was struggling to find anyone else. Eventually, she found James, sitting in a carriage by himself, absentmindedly watching the view. She chuckled to herself at the situation, the reverse of their meeting all those years ago.

She slid the door open, catching his attention and his ever-so-addictive smile. “Got room for an old pal?” She asked, sitting next to him when he patted the seat, his hand enveloping hers as soon as she had, a silent communication. I missed you.

“I was starting to think you’d gotten cool and forgotten about me.” He joked, nudging her playfully.

“Piss off Potter, I was always cooler than you.” She teased back, glad to see that nothing had changed despite their time apart. It never did, they were always James and (y/n), inseparable no matter how hard anyone tried. “Where is everyone?”

“Lils and Moony are doing prefect duties, and Sirius enlisted Peter’s help to try and sneak into their carriage and get the insider information.” He rolled his eyes light-heartedly, forming air quotes around Sirius’ words as (y/n) laughed, eyes closing in amusement. “What’s that on your eyes?” James suddenly asked, stopping her laughter short as she tried to figure out what he meant.

“Oh!” She remembered. “I went to see Lils in the holidays and she was showing me this glitter eyeliner that muggles wear! Why, do you not like it?” She suddenly felt self-conscious, wondering if it really was too much despite Lily’s reassurances. It was a subtle white, but still, it was glitter on her face.

“The opposite!” James was quick to answer, rushing so much to not hurt her feelings that he wasn’t thinking about what he was saying. “I think you look really beautiful (y/n/n), with or without the makeup. Besides, the glitter brings out your eyes.”

At this point, they were both blushing furiously, and James was still holding her hand, neither of them willing to let go. (y/n) couldn’t help but smile to herself, and remembered to thank Lily for the recommendation the second they were in the dorm together that evening.

…

James climbed the last step into the astronomy tower, seeing (y/n) leaning against the railing already, gazing into the night sky, a blanket and an array of snacks out on the floor behind her.

It was a ritual they’d started who knows when, a chance to wind down and escape the chaos of everyday life, to enjoy each other’s company and to feast away on whatever snacks they had managed to stow away for these evenings. Tonight’s selection looked to consist mostly of cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs, with the occasional sugar quill hidden amongst the rest. “Heavy on the sugar tonight, I see.” He broke the silence teasingly, settling himself so that he was sat at (y/n)’s feet, still able to see the clear night sky above them.

“If I don’t consume my own bodyweight in sugar I think I’ll pass out I’m that exhausted.” She commented back, sinking down next to him. Automatically, his arm wound around her shoulder, pulling her into his side and resting his chin on top of her head. There weren’t words to describe the feeling of pure content as she melted into him, completely at ease.

She reached out and grabbed a chocolate frog, unwrapping it and handing the card to James with a sigh upon seeing it was one already in her collection. She bit into the chocolate, her gaze on the night sky as his was unable to break away from her, the way she settled so peacefully against him.

“The stars sparkle too, you know.” She broke the silence, voice quiet but still holding its signature melodic tone. James finally broke away from looking at her, joining her eyeline and looking at the constellations above them. Even though he wasn’t taking astronomy as a NEWT, spending so much time in the tower with (y/n) as she mapped the sky meant he knew precisely what he was looking at, and traced the constellations with his eyes.

“You know, six years of friendship and I don’t think I ever asked you why you like shiny things so much. I always just accepted it as a part of who you are.” A smile graced her face as she unconsciously twiddled her fingers.

“Don’t laugh.” She warned, and he solemnly shook his head. “I think there’s something so entrancing, so beautiful about them. I think it serves as a reminder that even the most seemingly dull thing,” she picked up another chocolate frog box at this point, waving her wand to create a light sparkle over it, “is wonderfully brilliant if you just remember to look at it in the right way. It’s a lesson we should all carry with us, and I try to remember it whenever I can. Everything is beautiful if you give it a chance.” The sparkles on the box faded in the moonlight, as (y/n) finally looked up at James, only to find him already staring back at her.

Body thinking quicker than brain, seeing her (y/e/c) eyes glimmering up at him, James leant down and pressed his lips to hers. She stifled a gasp, quickly moving her lips back against his as her hand wound gently around the back of his neck. He poured all of his admiration into the kiss, everything he had been feeling for her since he didn’t even know when, feeling his heart soar to be here with her in that moment.

Eventually, they broke away for air, and a breathy laugh fell from (y/n)’s lips, blush rising on her cheeks as she turned her face away. James reached for her hand, interlacing their fingers and gently rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’ve been drawn to you since the day I saw you in that train carriage. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, your soul. I didn’t even realise the outside matched until we came back from that summer you spent with Lily. But god, every day since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I like you, (y/n/n). I really like you.”

Around them, a shimmering cloud exploded simultaneous to a wide grin spreading across (y/n)’s face. It was their own galaxy, just like all that time ago in the charms lesson, but she was still in the centre, still giddy with excitement. “I like you too, Jamie.” Her smile turned a little sheepish. “And sorry, I think my emotions got a little out of control.” The star-like sparkles slowly dissipated around them until there was nothing left, and this time it was (y/n) who leaned up to James, connecting their lips one more time.

“You taste like chocolate.”

“I’m sure that must be awful for you, Potter”. Nothing had changed, and yet nothing would be the same either.

…

James was sat on the floor of his dorm, textbooks open in front of him, although this late in the day he was struggling to pay any attention to them. What he was focused on instead was his girlfriend, tucked into the alcove of the windowsill, absentmindedly writing away on a piece of parchment.

Her (y/h/c) hair was in plaits down her back, and in the candlelight the silver threads that James had helped her braid in this morning were casting light across the room that shifted with every little shake of her head or shrug of her shoulders.

“You’re staring again, Jamie.” She chastised, although the humour was clear in her voice. He pushed himself up from the floor with an exaggerated groan, making his way over to her and pulling her gently into his chest, pressing a soft kiss into her hair.

“Can’t help it love, you’re an actual angel.” He didn’t see it but he knew she’d be rolling her eyes as she buried her face in his chest to hide the blush that was forming on her cheeks.

“Stop being so cheesy.”

“As if you don’t love it.” She pressed a kiss into his chest, resting her head against him as she went back to her writing. He tried not to pry, but he couldn’t help but catch notice of his name and his interest piqued. “Who are you writing to?”

“Euphemia.” She replied nonchalantly, not pausing her actions as he took a step away, face scrunched in confusion.

“My mother?” she paused at this, looking up at him with false exasperation.

“Do you know many other Euphemias?” She deadpanned. He shrugged, admitting her fair point, moving back to her side where she immediately snuggled back into his warmth.

“How long have you been writing to my mum?” She paused for a second, contemplating.

“Since the start of term I think. She sent an owl, I responded, we haven’t really stopped talking since. Oh, I’m coming over for Christmas by the way, she invited me. Said it wouldn’t be Christmas without the whole family there” (y/n) looked up at him, flashing a mischievous grin, expecting him to whine childishly like he normally would, complaining that he was supposed to ask her. Instead, looking more solemn than she’d seen him in a long time, he crushed her against him, holding her so tightly before he leant down and connected their lips. The kiss was bruising, but it was packed with adoration, and it left (y/n) slightly breathless. He broke away, leaning his forehead against hers as she tried to catch her breath back. “What was that for?”

“I love you. So much. You’re absolutely perfect, and I swear, I can’t wait until the day I can put a ring on that finger and make it official, make you a Potter for real. I promise, it’s going to be the most sparkling, dazzling gem you’ve ever seen. It’ll shine just as brightly as you, and it’ll always remind you that you’re beautiful, in every way, and just how much I love you.” Her hand had come to rest on his cheek, smiling throughout his little speech, parchment cast aside and forgotten about at this point.

“Don’t be silly, James.” She laughed, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “I love shiny things, yes, but I don’t need one to be reminded of how amazing you are, or how much I love you. Hell, you could ask me to marry you with a paper ring and I’d still say yes in a heartbeat. I’m saying yes to you, to a life. You don’t need to win me over with some ridiculously expensive piece of jewellery.” He nodded slightly, pecking her lips before moving back to where he had been sat on the floor.

(y/n) picked her parchment back up, continuing on to the letter she had been writing to Euphemia Potter, unable to help themselves from planning the Christmas festivities despite it being early November.

Deep in concentration, she startled slightly as she noticed movement coming from the corner of her eye. She looked to the side to see her boyfriend once again, although this time he was knelt before her, holding up a piece of parchment that he had hastily fashioned into a ring, coupled with a sheepish smile.

Laughing merrily, she hopped down from the windowsill, pulling him up by his jumper and kissing him passionately as she slid the piece of paper onto her finger, looking forward to the day when they were older, when they could promise this for real, knowing that they had the rest of their lives ahead of them to love each other unconditionally.

When James first stepped on that Hogwarts train, he was hoping to find a friend he could share every moment with for the next seven years. He had found that in her, a best friend, now a lover, for seven years but for so much longer. The girl with the sparkling bow turned out to be his soulmate, and he sent a prayer of thanks to the stars every day.

#harry potter #harry potter fic #james potter #james #potter #james potter fic #james potter fanfic #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #prongs #prongs x reader #marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #james potter x you

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fullfiresiren · 4 years ago

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beauty of the dawn

jujutsu kaisen

fushiguro toji x reader

The notion of a loving family was something foreign to Fushiguro Toji. Family, to him, was a bitter word -- full of hate and abhorrence. Abandonment and fear were a commonality in his own childhood. But in you, he finds a warmth he didn’t think he deserved – a home he craved, a love that makes him feel safe; full of gentle touches and soft kisses. But he’s scared. He's broken, and angry, and he knows the threat of his family is always lurking close, snapping at his heels, ready to devour. You bring the notion of family to his doorstep, and he spooks. He panics. He can’t let them find you, he can’t and he has to give up the only feeling of warmth he has ever known to do so.

It haunts him forever – leaving behind the only woman he ever loved, and a child he will never know.

word count: 3.8k.

notes: *inhales* ANGST— lmao but really, I live for it. Toji may be a bad person, but I suck dick, not morals, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ bro I fr don’t even know what came over me. This has been like the smallest headcannon for me and somehow it turned into this horribly sad piece, and although Toji is a dick, I also think he is an incredibly complex character that, at the end of it all, was just a desperate father trying to look out for his child. I think he deserves much more than he got, and he kinda gets shat on in this fic lmao I'm so fuCKING SORRY FOR THAT--

warnings: nsfw/18+, angst, hurt no comfort, abandonment, unplanned pregnancy, pregnant reader

“Take me,” he prays, panting secrets that fall from his lips onto your soft skin; promises of pleasure as he breeds you deep. “Take all of me.��

And you do – over, and over, and over again.

Hilting him to the deepest part of yourself, and holding him close, so close, his breath a hot ghost across your face as he leans his forehead against yours. You keep him there until he is finished, taking his seed like it was sacrament. He gives you everything he has to offer, and only when you have slipped into a light slumber does he pull away.

He never strays far, though, and he cannot stay away for long. You are like sweet honey and warm sunsets; the breathing embodiment of a life he was never before privy to – the promise of something better; a miracle. Far from the cold depravity and sharp pain of his own family, in you, he found only warm touches, and words of tender affection. Toji feels so overwhelmed by the amount of love he has for you, that sometimes it’s unbearable. He feels so happy he could die.

He is not an honest man, by any means. He kills for a vocation -- and enjoys it, too. It’s something he’s good at. It’s an easy way to make money, and it helps him pay for his half of the rent on the meagre apartment you share. It also lets him keep the fridge full, make sure you’re always warm, and that you’re never without. He doesn’t really care about himself or what he has to do – so long as you’re happy.

The weight of his body is always heavy between your thighs, his chest solid, thrusts slow and deep, stretching you, making a perfect fit for himself inside you. He likes drawing it out – each time he takes you. He enjoys seeing you beg for release, relishes the way your tears slide down your flushed cheeks, because he likes being the one to kiss them away, knowing he is the only one who ever makes you feel this good. His name sounds so perfect when it falls from your lips at your height of ecstasy, and the way you take him in has him swearing he can see heaven.

You see a side of him that no one else does, but he’s dark, he’s toxic. The amount of sadness in his soul is challenged only by the sheer force of his anger. He's sure that he wasn’t always like this, but... he can’t really remember a time when he wasn’t. Everyone and everything was his enemy. He’s never really told you much about his family, or his past. His childhood had been dark, you assumed, based on the way he flinched around children, and steered clear of any conversational topics that included them or parental figures.

Toji Fushiguro was untouchable to everyone, and only just tangible to you.

He wants to be able to give you everything. He wants to lay his head on your chest in the depths of the night when he’s feeling lost, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to come home every night, no matter what happens to him throughout the day, and be able to feel the brush of your soft lips; to taste your tongue with his – god – he wants to. But he’s afraid. He’s scared. If he gives you everything... if he shows you who he really is... what happens if you see something you don’t like? Will you pull away from him? Will you cast him out and abandon him – just like his family did? Toji isn’t feeble by any sense of the word, but he thinks that would be the one thing that would break him.

That’s why he’s only let you see glimpses... and only every now and then.

He’s just so miserable when he’s alone. He’s angry at the world, and you’re the only thing that soothes him. The only thing he has ever loved.

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror when he comes home, locked away in the too-small bathroom. You hear the keys turning in the lock; a signal of his arrival, and the door to your apartment opens, bringing with it sounds of paper bags crinkling, keys being tossed into their bowl, and huffing exhales as he struggles to kick his heavy boots off.

“Toji?”

“I’m home!” he calls, his voice a deep timbre in his chest, smooth like rich oak.

You follow it, leaving the safe space of your bathroom to find him, and when you pass the threshold into your small kitchen, he’s lifting bags of fresh groceries onto what little counter space you have. The movement carries with it droplets from an October rain that had caught him by surprise on his walk home, ones that hang from the edges of his black hair and drip down onto his damp black shirt.

“Toji,” you repeat, beaming as you bound into your small kitchen. “I have wonderful news!”

He spares you a glance between unpacking vegetables, dark eyes tracing the curve of your face, hands grasping at packets of food that need to be tossed in the fridge, and cans to be stacked in the shelves.

“Hmm?”

He offers you his face, leaning in close, pausing in his task to receive a small blessing of affection from you — a soft kiss against the scar on his lip that has his eyelashes fluttering closed, and then one more fully against yours – always greedy for any love you bestow, always chasing just one more, just once more, just another, my love, just one more...

He continues with his chore, but only when you giggle at the fluttering of kisses he peppers across your face, your jaw, suckling at your neck, your hands against his chest pushing him gently, urging him to finish his task – but not before you give him another deep kiss, all giddiness and mirth swimming in your gaze. He can’t help the deep chuckle that spills from his lips at seeing you so happy.

“Toji,” you begin, and he’s rummaging in the paper bags, brows furrowed because he could have sworn that he bought three carrots, and not two -- “I’m pregnant!”

He stills.

He can sense your beaming smile, almost feels the warmth of it on his cold skin, and it only makes him shiver.

The seconds tick by without any form of reaction, and the atmosphere grows horribly tense. Toji doesn’t look at you, but he can see from his peripheral vision that your smile slips at the same time that your shoulders round and you make yourself smaller, unconsciously closing off. You’re twisting something in your hands, suddenly nervous, and he has a nauseating feeling that settles in his gut, because he knows exactly what it is that you’re holding.

It’s proof.

“Are you... happy?” you ask, and you hate that you have to. It’s like a punch in the gut, and you’re afraid. This was not the reaction you were expecting at all.

“Are you sure?” he doesn’t know why he asks that.

He isn’t looking at you, and he isn’t moving – he’s not even blinking. You feel your hands becoming sweaty as you clutch the positive pregnancy test, mouth dry. A quickly increasing panic creeps over your skin, gripping you by the throat, and you honestly have no idea how to traverse this kind of response to your news. In the bathroom you only practiced scenarios in relation to a beaming, positive reaction.

Which room should we make into the baby’s room? Our baby can always sleep with us, though, and I know they’re definitely going to prefer you – I'm hopeless with kids... but I hope they look like you, Toji – a perfect combination of everything I love about you!

Do you want to pick names out? I hope it’s a girl... but a boy would be wonderful, too! I know the baby will adore you, no matter what! Do you have any names you like? We can name them after someone you love? If it’s a boy, I want to make his middle name yours...

Why didn’t you think he was going to show apprehension or reluctance? Why were you so idiotic to assume this is something he desired when he’s never given you any signs of wanting to start a family? He’s probably feeling entirely overwhelmed – and no wonder – you have no tact about this. Fuck, you’re stupid. You fucking idiot. Pathetic, dumb, worthless--

“Y-yes,” you reply, and your voice is a shadow of its former self. “I took three tests. I have one here--”

“How.”

You flinch a little under the curtness of his words.

“W-what—?”

“How did this happen?”

“Uhm...” your voice sounds so frail when you speak, and you can't help it. He’s making you feel like you’ve committed a horrendous sin. You’ve managed to combine the epitome of affection between the two of you into the creation of what will become a child – a perfect mix of the two of you, and yet, you’re beginning to hate yourself for doing so. You didn’t mean to... it was an accident... “We don’t... you know... use protection... and we... have sex... a lot...”

“I thought you were taking the pill.”

You feel like you want to throw up.

His entire body is unnaturally still, and he’s not looked at you once since you’ve told him. You are pretty sure that the can in his right hand is warping under the violent pressure of his grasp, and you wring your hands around the test nervously, the weight of it somehow heavy against your palms.

“I... don’t take the pill...” you remind, and then as an afterthought, you add, “I’m sorry.”

Words you never thought you would say in relation to this. You never though you would have to apologize in this kind of situation. You exhale a shaky breath, and it seems to bring him back to reality. He sets the can down on the countertop with more force than needed, and you try your best to blink back tears as you ask, “You’re... not happy... are you...?”

It’s more of a statement than a question, and it hurts to say – god, it hurts. The words sting when they leave your mouth, like a hard slap against your face, but the ache is not nearly as bad as the way his silence is wounding you. You feel like you’re about to collapse from the amount of pain you have in your heart.

“I need to go somewhere,” is the most he offers you, before he’s turning on his heels and striding past you, leaving the apartment you share.

The noise of the front door slamming shut echoes in your mind long after the sound itself has gone.

He never did come back.

— — — 5 years later — — —

In the end, you were blessed with a baby girl, all chubby with round, rosy cheeks. Dark hair and eyes like her father, but soft and gentle like her mother. She was an almost perfect child. She never cried, and she never fussed, content in just being close to her mother. She listened when you spoke, and learned fast, growing just as quick, and you would die for her. She was your blessing; Akemi – the beauty of a new dawn.

You’re sure that he would have loved her more than life itself, but you try not to spare any thoughts his way anymore.

Toji gambles his life away, blowing through anything he earns as quickly as he makes it, drowning himself night after night in heavy alcohol to dampen his senses until they are nothing more than a faint hum in the back of his brain.

With any luck, those things will kill him long before the guilt does.

He fucks faceless women, drunk beyond sense, and when he finishes, he leaves before they sleep.

“Hate me, (y/n),” he sneers, turning sharply to vomit up onto the wet asphalt, breath a shaky exhale as he stumbles into the cold night, thoughts only on you – only ever on you – unaware that he’s crying. “Hate me. I fucking deserve it.”

His face is smeared with bile and tears, and he is so fucking angry -- so desperately sad, and he cries, and cries. He wants to go home. He just wants to go home. He wants to meet her – his darling daughter – he wants to hold her, and kiss her forehead, and tuck her into bed. Fuck everything that he thought – he would have been a great father, he knows it – and you knew it, too. He’s so lost without you, and he wants to lay his head on your chest in the safety of your bedroom, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to feel the brush of your soft lips again; to taste your tongue with his, moan your name into your parted sigh, make you feel him again.

He screams, but it catches in his throat before he can, and he splits his knuckles open when he sends a furious punch against a brick wall.

He can protect you from a lot of things – but not the power of his family. Not that. He’s just one man, and they’re so many. He has a heavenly restriction, and they are all blessed with both innate and inherited techniques, passed down through eons. He knows what they’ll do if they ever found out about you – about the child, and Toji swears on everything he has, that he won’t let them touch you – or her. Even if he won’t be able to. Even if he’ll never be able to hold his daughter, to thank her for being born, to cradle her against his chest and feel her wrap her small fingers against his – he won’t let the Zen’in have her. He won’t.

But that doesn’t mean that he deprives himself from watching over her – or you. Eyes follow the two of you home from her pre-school, singing nursery rhymes to your hearts content, watching as she orders “up, up, mommy!”, squealing happily when you lift her onto your shoulders. He imagines himself in your place; lifting her to higher heights, hearing her giggle a chorus of happy songs as your hand finds his, lips on his scar as you tell him how much you love him.

But he always keeps his distance, dark baseball cap shielding his features, and leaves before you feel someone following you.

It becomes increasingly hard to keep it at that. He starts pushing the boundaries, testing how close he can get. He knows he shouldn’t -- he has no right to – but when she dropped her stuffed toy one time in the supermarket, and you were oblivious to it, he finds himself bending down to grasp the too-soft toy in his calloused hands, dropping it in your basket when your back is turned, and your brows are furrowed as you regard the price difference between her favorite flavor of juice compared to the off-brand ones.

The thrill of being so close, of doing something, anything fatherly, was like a fix – a short relief from the aching despair and loneliness constantly plaguing him, and he finds himself doing it more and more – always pushing, always testing the waters. He even smiled at her once when she caught him staring, and she sent her own toothy grin back at him. His heart soared.

His daughter’s name was Akemi, and he first heard it when it fell from your lips one warm afternoon. He wants to write her name on his heart – right beside yours.

He wants to give her something – a pretty gift, but he doesn’t know what. He was never good at buying presents, and would only ever bring you flowers, since it seemed like something that could never go wrong, and would always bring a bright smile to your face. Flowers would be strange for a child, though. He twists the dainty silver bracelet between his large fingers, thinking bitterly that this was the same way you held the pregnancy test all those years ago. He didn’t really care how much it cost him. He’s sure that the salesman added unnecessary tax and extras to the price just to give himself more commission, but Toji doesn’t care – he just wanted something pretty to give to his daughter.

When he finally sees her enter the park, small hand tugging yours happily, his mind goes empty, and he can’t stop staring. You are as beautiful as ever, and it’s no wonder his daughter is so ethereal when she has you for a mother.

She is perfect, he thinks -- too good for this life -- and even though it’s the worst thing he has ever done, he is reminded that pulling away from you was the only way to save her from his family. It looks like she escaped the curse of inheriting any of his bloodline's techniques, and what’s more so – it seems like she, too, is oblivious to curses; skipping past them as she chases leaves that skit about the dirt path of the park, her teddy in her arms. Toji dips his head down when she draws near the bench he’s sitting on, the brim of his baseball cap keeps his face hidden, and his sadness known only to himself.

“Excuse me?”

He bristles when her voice floats past his ears, so gentle and sweet.

“Hey, mister,” she pokes his knee with her slim finger, so tiny compared to the size of his body, and he jerks at the contact. “Is this yours?”

She’s holding the bracelet in her small hand, the silver glinting in the morning sun, offering it up to him with large eyes, so close to him. At this distance, he can see the true color of her eyes – exactly like his own – and the small freckles that dot her skin. The longer he stares, the more his chest constricts painfully, tightly – he’s finding it hard to breathe, and he exhales suddenly, sharply snatching it away from her.

The force of the movement causes her to stumble a little, tripping over her feet, and before she knows it, the man who was once sitting before her has entirely caught her in his large arms, scooping her up before the ground has a chance to harm her.

She blinks once... twice... swaddled in his arms, sitting against his broad chest, and Toji frantically looks for you, finding you caught up in talking to another mother, too busy to notice. He knows he would scold you for it if he was still in your life, but when his daughter laughs, he snaps his head back to look at her, forgetting what thoughts he had in his mind at the glinting sound of her happiness.

“Whoa!” she exclaims, “You’re fast! Thanks for catching me!”

He doesn’t know what to say – if he should say anything at all. His plan was to give her the bracelet, telling her that it was a late birthday gift from someone that loves her very much, and walking off before she (or you) has the chance to catch on or respond. But now that he’s inches away from her, holding her close as she peers up at him, he’s lost again. He’s lost, and he can’t breathe. He needs you to steady him, but you aren’t here, and he doesn’t know what to do, what should he do, what should he--?

“Where did you get that scar from?” she asks innocently, her large eyes suddenly trained on the mark beside his lips.

“F-from an accident,” he mumbles, “a long time ago.”

“Oh,” she hums, hands splayed against his broad chest, looking around her, swaying her legs absentmindedly. “Wow, you’re really tall! I can see everything from up here!” she exclaims happily, “My mommy’s not as tall as this, so when I sit on her shoulders, I can’t see nearly as much as I can now!”

“Oh,” he mutters, not really knowing what to say, “is that so?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “Mommy’s not as big as you are either.”

At this, he gives a genuine laugh – a sound he hasn’t heard fall from his lips in a long, long time, looking at her with quiet adoration.

“She’s not as fast as you either,” she continues, “you were super-fast!”

“She’s strong in her own ways, though,” he mutters, offering her a soft smile.

“Do you know my mommy?”

He bristles, actively avoiding her gaze. His heart is racing from this much interaction with his daughter, and he’s sure she can feel it under her small palm. It beats for her – if only she knew, and Toji contemplates, for the briefest of seconds, just telling her. The thought leaves his mind as soon as it enters. He doesn’t have that choice, and he doesn’t deserve it.

“Not really,” he mutters, dipping down slowly to set her footing on solid ground once more.

“She’s really pretty,” the little girl continues, playing with the soft fabric of his t-shirt in a small moment of fondness and familiarity, “and nice – and she makes great food!”

Toji realises only after the fact that his hand had settled on top of her head, and he’s stroking her hair softly, thumb caressing her cheek when he moves to cup her face. She doesn’t seem to mind at all, and Toji is overwhelmed with a plethora of emotions. Pride in you for doing all this by yourself and raising such a wonderful child, shame for abandoning you and his daughter, mirth, anger, warmth, sadness, love--

“Akemi!” you call, seeing her lift her head at the sound of your voice. “This way, honey!”

“Oh, I have to go now! My mommy is calling me!” she perks up, gripping her teddy a little tighter and offering the man a smile. “Bye-bye!”

“W-wait!” he calls, thrusting the gift into her small hands. “This is for you, uh... f-from me...”

She looks down at it, before her whole face lights up, and Toji is suddenly breathless – she looks so much like you when she’s surprised, happiness blossoming over her face the same way it would on yours.

Toji feels a deep-rooted emptiness inside his body when he watches his daughter retreat away from him; a living embodiment of all his failures to you, and yet, as he sees her long, black hair whip out behind her, he realizes something else — she was your promise delivered; a combination of everything good between the two of you, in itself a miracle. He might not be in her life, but he was also partly responsible for creating something so beautiful, so ethereal.

He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but if he was ever fortunate enough to be granted a second, it would be a miracle; a holy gift.

A blessing that would accompany the beauty of dawn.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #toji x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji x you #angst #pregnant!reader #abandonment #dilf toji

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cartierbin · 4 years ago

Text

𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 — “𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚕𝚏!𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚋𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚜? <𝟹”

『 pairing — changbin x reader

genre — smut , + dilf!police officer changbin + a little somnophilia + some handcuffs

word count —- 1.456k 』

notes — i really don’t have anything to say I just wanted this section to be longer looking so I kind of added this lmao. I hope you guys enjoy this though

smut under the cut !

it was one of those nights again. one of those nights where changbin was extremely horny after his long work shift and just wanted to be inside you. the both of you haven’t been catching up on your frequent bedtime banter nowadays due to your three boys needing the both of you all the time and every second of every day. but it was the middle of the night and the boys were sleeping, and unfortunately so were you.

changbin was lying on his back staring up at the ceiling, drumming his thumbs along his bare, tattooed chest trying to figure out how he was going to wake you up and convince you to have sex with him. you woke up early for work and he knew how cranky you could get if you didn’t get enough sleep. but he needed you badly and he couldn’t quite help himself anymore. he turns his head to see the shape of you underneath the blankets, your body rising and sinking slowly from your peaceful slumber. you looked so pretty and you were barely wearing anything, just some panties and one of changbin’s old t shirts which added to his erection nonetheless.

after finally deciding that he didn’t give a damn, he sprinkles fluttering kisses along the nape of your neck. most of which you couldn’t feel. not that you could if you tried, before you would even feel your last one changbin was already going in for more, making each kiss rougher than his last. he groped your body in the process whilst breathing a little heavier, growing excited from the electricity he felt from touching you. he twindled his fingers up your shirt and toyed with both of your breasts, rubbing his aching erection against your backside. he knew you weren’t awake but he needed this. he needed it badly. it was easy to tell how much he yearned for your body by how aggressive he was being. hot tongue kisses splayed across the span of your neck and shoulders, needy groans flooded the air. he gripped the meat of your thigh and watched his bulge roll against the naked cheeks of your ass, he caught his breath in entire shock wondering how something this simple could feel so good. he desperately continues rolling his hips up against you, feeling the fabric of his sweatpants deliciously rub against his throbbing cock.

he reached to the side of him and fetched the cold handcuffs from his work duffel bag. he exhaled before he executed his idea, hesitant at first. he grabbed the both of your wrists and clung them around each, locking them together behind your back. once he heard the satisfying click he went to what he came for, your full backside at his disposal. he took a minute to admire your precious body, drawing your shirt up and circling his thumbs into the dip of your back. he reached up to unclasp your bra, just wanting to see you completely bare. he applied this energy to your torso as well, rolling your panties down your ankles and tossing them to another corner of the bedroom. you laying on your tummy was always the perfect position for him, he loved the natural arch of your back and how gorgeous your body looked in this exact stance. he places his hand at the small of your back and licks his lips, squeezing two fingers in between the cheeks of your ass and directly into your pussy. you were always overflowing with your natural moisture which changbin loved, but he also loved mixing it with the moisture he gave you as well. you were extremely tight and he couldn’t fathom how hot it was, having to wedge his fingers inside of your hole. he watched closely when he sped up the pace of his thrusting fingers and felt you throbbing around them. he relished the way they looked each time he pulled them out of you, glistening with nothing but cream.

you whimpered into your pillow at the feeling that you thought was coming from your dreams. he could burst at the innocent sounds you made, sounding as though you’ve never been touched like this before. he hastened the pace just to hear you whimper harder, enjoying the gushy sounds of your pussy resounding off the bedroom walls. he waited until you were on the verge of cumming to pull them out and substitute them with his cock instead. he sluggishly stuffs himself in between your pulsating walls and groans loudly when he does it, awaking you unintentionally. your eyes were still fluttering open when he started fucking into you, unaware that you were now awake. you choked on your own breath while he quickly picks up his pace, gyrating his hips up into your pussy while you were basically stranded between the cuffs of the cold metal. It baffled him at how much he enjoyed seeing you in handcuffs and completely helpless, with no other choice but to get fucked into the mattress. your eyes grew cartoonishly large at his rough pumps and tight squeeze of your waist.

“binnie—the kids are..in the next room fuck”. each time you bellowed a word it sounded as if you were out of breath, desperately trying to gain it all back. but you absolutely couldn’t breathe with how deep changbin’s cock was buried inside of you, reaching depths that made you wringle under his touch. his dark sighs and deep grunts gave you the answer you needed. that he didn’t give a damn if the kids could hear, he was going to fuck you until you both made the sheets a sopping mess. your face falls into the cushion of the pillows trying to shield your moans from being too rowdy and obnoxious but changbin was fucking into you with a roughness that made the headboard beat the wall. he spreads the cheeks of your ass and gathers saliva between his lips, spitting a lengthy string of it atop of your folds and allowed his cock to take care of the rest. you bit mercilessly into the fabric of the pillows crying out your hardest at the slick feeling of him occupying your insides. he threw his head back and licks his lips, ignoring the creaking sounds the bed was now making because of him. “fuck baby. haven’t had this in so long”. as soon as he said that you lunged yourself back, joining in with changbin’s thrusts because yes, you wanted this just as badly as he did. the sound of your skin clapping together was the most beautiful harmony in changbin’s ears.

it encouraged him even the more, resulting in him hastily ransacking thrusts into your needy pussy. you scrunched your eyes together tightly in sheer pleasure as he kept hitting that particular spot of yours, leaving your body stuttering and shaking in prime pre-orgasm. “fuck—please ...fuck me binnie”. you plead in dispersed breaths. changbin smirks. “I thought you were worried about the kids huh? now you want me to fuck you?”. you felt your legs weaken and he was kind of glad you couldn’t see his face practically contorting at how velvety your walls had gotten around his cock. the metal of the handcuffs started to clink together and embarrassing heaves of breath left his lips. “I don’t care anymore just make me cum”. you mewl as loud as your tired lungs would let you. he grips your waist and switches up his tempo giving you slower, impactful strokes. “you want to cum? go ahead and cum down my dick so I can have a reason to get you pregnant tonight”. your vision blurred and you were babbling nonsense when that familiar fire sheathed your body with a rippling orgasm to follow. he fucked you into overstimulation and even then you couldn’t stop cumming and shaking until he was finished, splattering his seed in the deep places of your pussy that only his dick could touch.

he tongues kisses your perspired cheeks and forehead while undoing the cuffs, freeing your sore arms and finally letting them collapse on the bed with the rest of your aching body. the sheets beneath you were a wet sweaty mess. a mess that you refused to sleep on but you were too out of touch and out of breath to say so. he reaches down to rub your belly. “looks like you’ll be eating for two soon?”.

#changbin smut #seo changbin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #skz imagines

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cdroloisms · 3 years ago

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originally i just wanted dream to recover, preferably in the syndicate. but after today's quackity lore? he deserves to fuck shit up for a bit. let him get his revenge. tommy got his revenge on dream, techno got his revenge on l'manberg, dream deserves to get revenge on quackity and sam! then he can recover after that lol

(context: ask was sent on march 16th and i am very. very late.)

but YEAH !! logic brain says revenge bad and cycle of violence will continue BUT emotion brain wants c!dream to go crazy go stupid !! go beat them up honey we’ll be here with juice boxes and fruit snacks when you’re done <3

i wrote this while looping casino royale by derivakat for (checks time) something like 12 hours straight so uhh,,, yeah LMAO have some of c!dream going apeshit bc honestly he deserves it (/hj)

tw: implied torture, abuse, mentioned injuries, suicide, murder, explosions, death, violence, dark portrayals of c!dream, c!quackity, and c!sam, emotional distress, prison arc, pandora’s vault

Sam is uneasy long before he enters Las Nevadas - Quackity’s terse, serious-sounding string of texts he’d woken up to had sent his heart racing before the country even came into sight, and he’s pretty sure the pit in the middle of his gut since Dream escaped a week ago won’t disappear until the prisoner is either jailed or dead at his feet. Still, the city hardly does his anxiety any favors - each step within its limits feels a bit more like walking to his own death, the silent storefronts and looming, boarded up casino seeming to watch his every move, making him pick up his pace to move a little faster and avoid their judging gazes.

Stuck in his head as he is, it’s not until he’s halfway to the meeting place that he realizes how eerily quiet the place is - Las Nevadas has yet to be a particularly busy country with the casino yet to open and their recruits usually doing their own thing in the meantime, but still there’s usually at least one of them lingering on the city grounds, between Fundy’s work on his yacht and Foolish’s construction and whatever Slime does, usually involving an immense amount of following Quackity’s every move. The city as it right now feels much more like when it had been no more than a secret of his and Quackity, months spent with just the two of them working to make Big Q’s vision a reality. There’s something uniquely unnerving about it, like stepping into a ghost town, and Sam’s unease only grows.

“Sam!” Quackity calls from the base of the casino - Sam shades his eyes from the sun as he jogs over. Even from this far, it’s clear Q is displeased - his lips are flat in a small frown, skin taut from where the corner of his mouth is pulling at his scar. His tie is slightly askew and shirt rumpled - he looks disheveled, eyebrows narrowed irritatedly as he taps at something on his communicator. Sam smiles slightly, hollow.

“Hello Quackity,” he responds simply, drawing his trident and bringing it to his side. “You said we needed to meet?”

“Yeah,” Quackity’s voice is distracted, and he mumbles a curse as he jams his finger particularly hard against the communicator screen. “What is up with everyone today? They sent me these- weird fucking messages and then we get here and nobody’s here-”

“Who?” Sam’s lips press together. “You mean like- Fundy? Or Foolish?” They seem to be the ones that Quackity got messages from most frequently, if he remembers right. He doesn’t know for sure - usually, Quackity handles the social side of managing Las Nevadas.

“Fundy, Purpled, Foolish, Slime-” Quackity makes a vague, affronted noise. “All of them! Where the hell are they?”

Sam pauses.

“Q, when did Slime learn to use a communicator?”

“That’s the green one, right?” Both of them freeze, whirling around to the voice behind them, seeing nothing but the empty, arched doorway of the still-locked casino. “Naïve. Easy to fool.” The voice pauses, barks a sharp, quiet laugh. “Made my job easy, at least.”

The voice is familiar- too familiar. Sam doesn’t think he’ll ever get that cadence out of his head, not after months after months spent in the prison, hearing it in every possible tone and form. Quackity’s shoulders are hunched up to his ears, teeth bared in a snarl.

“Dream- I fucking swear- where the hell are you?”

“Aw, not so brave when the other person can actually fight back, are we?” Dream’s voice is lilting, mocking, and Sam’s hands tighten on the trident. “Fine, I’ll show myself. I’m not like you- no need to extend this game any longer than necessary.”

Dream slinks out from the shadows, wearing all black and covered in netherite armor, seeming fiddling with a small, grey thing in one hand. HIs stance is wide, torso pulled close to the ground - instead of a mask, his outfit includes a hooded black cloak that pulls down over his face, barely offering a glimpse of his eye glaring from underneath it.

“I’m giving you three seconds to tell me why the hell you’re in my country,” Quackity growls, sword forming in his hand, blade still crusted over with old blood, “And I’ll make your death half as painful as it’ll be otherwise.”

Dream laughs, high-pitched and unstable. “Please- what are you gonna do with that thing?” Quackity stalks forward with a low, wordless yell and Sam only barely manages to snag him back by the wrist.

“Watch it, Q,” Sam mutters, looking closer. Sure enough, there’s a faint, reddish haze rising from Dream’s body, only barely visible, interspersed with some lighter blue wisps. Strength and Speed. “He’s got potions.”

“Outmatched, aren’t we?” Dream cocks his head to the side, a tight-lipped smile visible under the hood’s shadow. “What a shame. I was hoping for a good fight.”

Quackity curses at him, loudly, but mullishly stays in place instead of lashing out like earlier, and Sam hisses a small sigh of relief. He looks back over at Dream - under the sun, he looks worse than ever, armor doing little to hide the gaunt edge of his face, limbs skinny and shaking. His hands tremble, wrists kept close together, as he continues to move the thing within them from hand to hand, small and grey and smooth from what he can tell in flashes between scarred and calloused fingers. He’s still favoring his left side slightly, but his eyes are cold and clear as they follow his every movement, clearly lucid and intelligent. Unfortunately for them, Dream is the best of fighters at the worst of times, and he has no doubt that with potions on his side and themselves relatively unprepared for battle, any fight with him won’t go particularly well.

Negotiation it is, then. “Why are you here, Dream?” If they stall long enough, then the rest of the server can come to back them up, and then even Dream won’t be able to fight back for long. He and Quackity can figure out what to do with him once he’s safely back under their control - for now, they have to play things safe. He pulls out his communicator carefully with one hand, trying to avoid drawing attention to his movements. “I doubt you’re here for a housewarming visit.”

Dream waves his hand slightly. “Something like that-” he bares his teeth in a small smile. “How about a housewarming gift, instead?”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Quackity bites, aggressive in a way that speaks of how threatened he feels, and the pit in Sam’s stomach only grows. Dream’s eye seems to glow as he turns and presses his hands to the nearby wall; when he pulls them back, there’s a stone button fastened on the quartz.

“Say, Quackity,” Dream’s voice is too light to be anything but forced levity, rolling his shoulders back to try and hide the way his entire body has begun to shake even more violently than before. “How much TNT do you suppose it took for Wilbur to blow up L’manburg?”

Sam gasps, low and harsh through his teeth, a quiet, breathless no falling from his lips. Quackity’s head shakes, eyes widening in fury and denial.

“No- no what the fuck did you do- Dream what the absolute fuck did you do-”

“Eleven stacks of TNT, to blow up that country to kingdom come.” Dream laughs, directing his wild, manic expression to look them in the eye. “The amount of TNT hooked up to this thing is ten times that.”

“You’re a liar-” Quackity rushes forward, sword raised, “I’m going to fucking kill you-”

Sam grabs him, again, ignoring his yells to look at Dream, who’s still standing, seemingly unruffled, one hand hovering over the button that’ll spell doom for them all.

“That’ll kill all of us,” he tries to reason, panic clawing up his lungs, “You’re on your last life. You can’t-”

“And what, Warden, makes you think I give a single goddamn fuck about that?” Dream’s voice cracks, slightly, and for a moment Sam almost thinks he’ll break, that he can press the point until the other backs down - but Dream is nothing if not stubborn, and within seconds he’s composed himself again, looking at them with a determined set to his jaw that Sam recognizes well enough from Quackity’s visits to know that he won’t back down. “Everyone else is far away from here. I made sure of that. It’s just you, and Quackity, and me, and I’m pressing this button if it’s the last thing I do. Call it a parting shot, will you?”

Sam pulls at Quackity, wrist still locked in his grip. “Q, we have to leave.”

“I’m not letting him destroy this place Sam, are you out of your fucking mind? This- Las Nevadas- it’s everything- I’m not letting him take this place from me not again-”

“He’s going to kill us all, Quackity,” he throws a water bucket at his feet, charging up his trident. The sign taunts him at the edges of the city borders, far too far away for any of them to even hope to reach. “We have to go now-”

“Say your goodbyes,” Dream taunts, and there’s a quiet click. Sam smells the faint, smoky smell of redstone being activated, hears a hum growing in volume from the ground beneath him. He looks over to Dream, who has a hand pressing the button to the wall, fever-bright eyes wide and wet as he stares at his own hand before shutting them with a soft, almost serene smile. “And see you in hell.”

The world goes white.

[Dream was blown up by Dream.]

[Quackity was blown up by Dream.]

[awesamdude was blown up by Dream.]

#-> my writing #my writing :D #my asks !!#-> my asks #tw torture #tw abuse #tw injuries #tw suicide #tw murder #tw explosion #tw death #tw violence #tw emotional distress #prison arc #pandora's vault

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barbatos-devotee · 4 years ago

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Fight For You

Genshin x Reader

Character: Xiao

Gender: Female

A/N: Sorry I didn’t get this out sooner! I’ve been writing and drawing some other things because I didn’t entirely know how I was gonna wrote this one lmao.. but now I do! Enjoy!

You were an adventurer, popular in the guild for your strength and your personality. You were no five-star, but you had enough confidence in your skills and ability that you got practically every job you’d ever done handled with ease. Hilichurls with a Mitachurl leader? No biggie. The group of Fatui barring entrance to Guili Plains? No sweat. A group of bandits trying to steal treasure from the scholars? Why, you could beat them with your eyes closed. You and your Pyro Vision were a threat to anyone who’d encountered you, and the giant claymore you carried on your back made sure no one with ill intent bothered you. Not to mention, you were sort of dating the adeptus that resided in Wangshu Inn, so that gave you a sort of invincibility as well. Your strength was second only to the Traveller, and you were very proud of your ability to handle anything.

Well, that was until you got a certain commission.

The job was to take out a Lawrachurl hanging out by some ruins. The difficulty was a little higher for you, you had to admit. Usually a party would go with you to handle the giant, geo-attuned things, but you’d decided to go on your own, confident in your ability to beat it. It had been a piece of cake so far, the shield was down and you were certain that the thing’s health was on its last legs. And just as you got in your final hit, the one that turned it to dust, something you weren’t expecting surprised you. And launched you across the ruins, really. You cried out in pain as you hit the stone wall, realizing you’d been hit by a rocket. Your (e/c) eyes turned to look at what had attacked you, and they subsequently widened when you spotted a Ruin Hunter climbing out from the rubble. The Lawrachurl’s attacks had unearthed and awoken it.

Well, shit. You weren’t too good at fighting Ruin Guards, Ruin Hunters, or even Ruin Graders! The things were far too dangerous, and it took you a whole party of strong vision users to even bring it down. And you were, at the moment, alone. Struggling to your feet, holding your side in pain, you just barely had enough time to leap out of the way of the mechanical monstrosity as it lunched for you, it’s bladed arm impaling the wall where you once stood. You clenched your teeth, glaring at the thing. Flames crackled around your form as you readied your claymore, but your balance was slightly off due to the wound on your side. But that didn’t matter, you had to take this thing down. You gave a battle cry as you rushed towards it, smacking it with your weapon as it had converted into it’s vulnerable form. You know, the one where it rained bombs on you from the sky from a safe distance? Yeah, that one. It stuttered and went down, and you proceeded to smack it with as much force and flame as you could muster. You stood back as it rose back up, and you fled to the side as it tried lunging for you again. You weren’t quick enough, however, and it’s blade slashed your side.

Hm.. maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. You clenched your sides, both injured now, and fought back tears of pain as you remembered what Xiao had told you. “There’s no shame in running.” That’s really good advice, you reasoned, you were going to follow it. And so, you ran. The Ruin Hunter followed and attacked you for a few miles, before you could finally hide from it’s sight and lose it. Shuddering from your position inside of a small ruin, you sighed, and looked down at your body. You should try and fix this before you continued, or else you’d bleed out in the plains.

Xiao sat on the balcony of Wangshu Inn, looking out over the land as he usually did. His eyes scanned the ground as he watched citizens, Millieth and merchants wandering around, all interacting with each other. He looked for your form amongst them, wondering if you would be visiting today. You usually did, you always made time to see him, no matter how long it took you to do your commissions. You’d even arrive in the middle of the night sometimes, so waiting was nothing new to him, but today.. you said you’d be done with your work early. What was taking you so long? And Xiao couldn’t help but have this dreadful feeling in his gut, like something was wrong.. His golden eyes flicked to the side at the sight of movement, and then they widened. There; on the ground, stumbling in from the plains, walked your bruised and bloodied body. Your clothes were ripped, and you were missing a large portion of your pants fabric, which had been torn off and tied around your torso as makeshift bandages. The people around you were panicked, worrying for you as they tried to get you help. You just gave a tired smile, as though it was no big deal. Somehow, that hurt Xiao the most. He jumped down from his spot on the balcony, pushing someone aside as he reached out to catch your falling form.

“(Y/n)?! What happened?! Why are you so hurt? Who did this-?!” Xiao cried, his eyes filled with fear and worry as he picked you up bridal style and rushed you towards the Inn. You gave a weak chuckle, shrugging your shoulders.

“That Ruin Hunter wasn’t playing around. It scraped me up a bit. Then some hilichurls decided to hit me on my way back. Kinda sucked not gonna lie.” Xiao glared at you, astonished that you could joke at a time like this. You were taken to a doctor to help stabilize you and give you some pre-medication help, but they couldn’t do much. It took a while to bring you to Liyue, where you were then given to QiQi to help with your healing. As you rested in the bed, Xiao sat next to you, having been with you the entire time, absolutely refusing to let you go.

“You idiot.. why would you go in there by yourself..? You could have died... stupid.” Xiao pressed his hands to his eyes, wiping away the tears that began to form in them. “You’re only mortal. If you die, what- what will I do without you?” A hand came up to meet his face, and Xiao looked down, his eyes wide. You were smiling at him, your (e/c) eyes sparkling with affection.

“It’s okay Xiao. I’m going to be okay. But you’re right, it was a bit too much for me.”

“Of course it was! You should have taken a party, or.. or you could have asked me for help! You know I would have come with you, I’d be willing to fight for you!” Xiao exclaimed, his face a mix of anger and sadness. The tears he tried to hold back before began falling down his cheeks, and he angrily wiped at them.

“I know.. I know. But you’re meant to protect Liyue. What if something happened if you’d left with me? I couldn’t pull you away from your duty for that.” You explained, using your thumb to wipe away your boyfriend’s tears. He guided your hand back down to the bed, not wanting you to hurt yourself, but not letting go.

“What good is it to protect Liyue, if I can’t even protect you? You can be more selfish with me, especially when it comes to dangerous things like this...” Xiao leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, the both of you closing your eyes in tearful content. “I would be devastated if I lost you.. please, be more careful.” You nodded, pressing a kiss to the adeptus’ cheek.

“I will. I promise. I love you, Xiao.”

“I love you too, (Y/N).”

The two of you sat in content silence, just enjoying each other’s presence. Adventuring will come at a later time, it’d take a while for you to get better, but at least now you knew. No matter what, Xiao would always be there to fight for you. To love you and just be there for you.

And that was all you needed.

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #genshin impact xiao

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marichat-verse · 3 years ago

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Mist Memories

Leo Valdez x reader for his birthday ahhhh (even though it's angsty) with a platonic/developing jason x reader cameo at the end (lmao im sorry i couldn't help myself 😭)

Based on this picture I found in pinterest + also [kinda] based on traitor by olivia rodrigo and omg i really recommend u guys listen to this edit because it reminds me so much of this fic that's been stuck in my head for MONTHS also kind of a run away with me prologue lol

Your POV

I nervously made my way across the forest until I reached a limestone cliff. I knocked on the iron door, not really expecting to get an answer.

My boyfriend has been shutting himself in Bunker 9 for the past few weeks. I stood there counting up to seven before knocking again. I knocked again two more times, until he answered in the middle of my last knock.

He removed his goggles and winced as sunlight hit his eyes. He'd grown thinner and paler, making the dark circles in his eyes more pronounced.

"Oh, Leo..." I reached out to brush a few strands of hair away from his face, but he moved away.

"What are you doing here?" He said in a monotone voice.

I moved to walk inside the Bunker, brushing off his hesitation to let me in. "I'm your partner, remember? And I'm really concerned because you're shutting yourself out lately. You know everyone's starting to worry about you. Percy asked me to check on you because you missed pegasus riding with him. Oh, and I'm pretty sure Jason's coming back from Camp Jupiter soon. I was hoping you and Annabeth could be with Piper while Percy and I hung out with Jason because it's been a little awkward since their breakup. Plus Piper wanted to tell you something—"

"Please," he said forcefully causing me to stop and look at him. "Just... Get out."

Normally, he'd shut himself from the world for a few days to work on an important project or because he was feeling really sad and he needed space. But this was getting out of hand. He had never locked me out of his life when I offered to help him. He was never this mean when he asked for space. I was not having this attitude of his.

"Okay, Leo. I tried to play nice. What is so important that you blow off all your friends for nearly a month that you can't even tell your partner, or maybe say hi to your best friend who's coming back from the other side of the country?"

He didn't say anything. He pursed his lips and avoided eye contact. I scanned he room for any signs.

It was messier than usual with all the crumpled paper scattered on the floor, especially on his desk. He could have been drawing up new plans. Something in my gut told me that something wasn't right. There were no new unfinished projects, indicating that he wasn't starting a new invention. Harley's helicopter lay on his bench in the same state it was weeks ago. Huh, not even his siblings could enter the Bunker.

I turned and Leo was already changing Festus' oil. I took this moment of distraction to pick up a few pieces of crumpled paper on the floor and on his desk. I had to process the words a bit longer—too long that Leo took notice. Damn dyslexia.

I heard footsteps speed up behind me, but it was too late. I read enough and got the gist of what he had been trying to do these past few weeks.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He yelled at me. Small embers started to erupt between his curls.

I laughed dryly. "So this is what you've been up to?"

His fists tightened, further crumpling the paper in his hands. His eyes flashed with anger, despair and confusion.

I sighed and focused my eyes on his desk, not daring to look at him any longer. Under some pieces of paper were old photographs of him and Piper from Wilderness School. Yup, those definitely were the mist memories she had with Jason. I read the latest draft he'd been writing:

Dear Piper,

Remember the mist memories from boarding school with Jason? They were real, but they were with me.

I miss you. I miss when it was just us. I miss the night on the roof.

Yours truly,

Leo Valdez

I tried to keep my voice from cracking. "How long?"

I heard him sigh. "Three weeks."

I balled my fists. Tears started to fall and smudge the ink. I wiped them away as fast as they came.

"How?"

"In a dream," his tone softened now. "Hera came to me in a dream and told me to check an old drawer in Bunker 9. I found the photos and the memories came rushing back."

"How long were you dating back then?"

"Two weeks."

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

Silence; then a deep breath.

"No."

I shook my head in disbelief. "Why?"

"Because I knew you'd get upset like—"

"I meant why would you throw away months of our relationship for a couple of weeks of your relationship with her? And without even bothering to tell me? Gods damn it, Leo. We've been together since you've first arrived at camp. And what about those promises you made when we were sailing to Greece? You've been keeping these feelings away from me and you've been lying to me, making me believe that there's still something between us and—"

"Oh, calm down," he said with an annoyed expression and tone, which only infuriated me more, "it's not like I did anything were her yet! I didn't kiss her or tell her how I truly felt for her! She just got out of a relationship with Jason around the same time I had that dream. I had to figure out how to talk to her about it. I've been alone in this Bunker for three. Fucking. Weeks. I didn't cheat on you."

"Oh, and that makes everything better?" I countered. "Being in a relationship isn't about not cheating, Leo. It's about being honest and communicating with each other."

"Oh, like you've been communicating with me? After the war, you take go back to Manhattan for school, and you take a job. I haven't seen you much during the holidays because work has been keeping you in the city. And you won't tell me what you even do for a living!"

I took in a deep breath. "I told you I needed to have a life outside of camp! I needed to know first that I could handle myself in the mortal world as a normal human being. I needed this demigod part of my life to be separate as much as possible! I've been in two wars, Leo. I needed time to myself, too. And I was about to tell you guys in a few more days. But I guess now, I'm glad I've kept you out of that part of my life. At least I have an escape from all of this. And now, especially from you."

I took another deep breath and walked to the door, about to let myself out. I turned back again, both our tear-stained eyes meeting each other.

"If it makes you feel any better," I said softly, "I would've hated the idea of us breaking up. But if you really love her, if you really feel like you have this special connection to her and she makes you happy, then I won't get in your way. You could at least have had the decency to talk to me so we could have left on a good note."

He looked at me with wide eyes, clearly regretting his actions. I sighed and looked around the Bunker, possibly for the last time. Lots of memories were definitely created in this room; all just as grand and meaningful as the inventions they made here. But just like some of Hephaestus' contraptions, some of them were flawed and dumped in his scrapyard, no matter how much potential it could have had.

"Goodbye, Leo."

I sat on a rock on the beach that gave me a beautiful view of Long Island Sound. To my left, the sun started to set, casting an orange filter on everything. My heart broke, remembering how everything glowed orange in the Bunker. Leo always left the fires burning when he was working. The sunlight twinkling against the sea reminded me of how small bits of flame peaked through his hair earlier. I remembered how mad he was at me. Or maybe he was mostly mad at himself.

"Hey."

I jumped when someone sat—or rather, landed—beside me. I turned and smiled, seeing one of my good friends back at camp.

"Hey, you're back," I said weakly. "How long have you been here?"

He smiled at me, although he could maybe sense that something was wrong. "Half an hour, maybe? I saw Annabeth making plans to expand camp to have a city. She made me do an aerial inspection and I told her I'll get back to her tonight. That's when I saw you."

"Mhmm," I mumbled, not really knowing what to say. It was silent for a few minutes before I spoke up again, knowing he was just waiting for me to open up.

"I broke up with Leo."

His head quickly turned to me. I guess he wasn't expecting it to be that bad. "What?"

"Oh yeah," I laughed dryly. "Turns out the mist memories Piper had in Wilderness School with you? They were real. But not with you."

His eyes widened. "Oh... With Leo."

"He locked himself in the Bunker for weeks trying to write a letter. It was heartbreaking. Like, truly heartbreaking. He wanted to tell her how much he missed her and how much he missed them. Then he said how much he missed that night with her under the stars and... It hurt. Like hell."

"Oh," he said. "I guess Piper didn't tell me everything then."

"She knew all along?"

He shook his head. "Maybe not everything, but she told me she's been confused about her feelings lately and she'd been having visions or dreams of possible old memories that were messing with her head."

"I'm sorry about you and Piper," I said.

"Don't be," he said. "I understand her. It did hurt, though. But I think I can get over it some day. We're still awkward around each other, but at least we left on a good note."

I scoffed. "Leo couldn't even give me a good ending to our relationship."

"Hey," he said as he put a hand on my shoulder. "You're a great person, y/n. You've done so much, especially for him. It's his loss that he was stupid enough to let go of you."

"I know that."

"Do you really?"

"I do!" I said. "I'm a great person and I know that. But that doesn't mean what he did doesn't hurt me."

"I know," he said. "You'll find someone who'll treat you like the queen that you are. You're a great person, and I'm not just saying this to cheer you up. I truly think you're amazing."

I smiled at him. "Thanks, Jason. And you'll find someone great, too. Maybe not as great as me but, then again, who is?"

We both let out a laugh. The conch sounded in the distance, signaling dinner. I moved to stand up before hearing Jason speak up again.

"Hey, do you maybe want to just grab a couple of plates and eat out here?"

I smiled. "Yeah. That sounds good. I don't really want everyone else hounding me about the breakup right now."

I don't know how long it was going to take me to get over Leo. We really did gave something special. It was cruel how the universe gave me something so good, to make me have hope that something was finally going right, then have it yanked away from my arms just as suddenly as it came.

He never cheated on me, but that didn't mean he didn't betray every promise we made to each other. I should have known it was too good to be true. Life has always played cruel jokes on me.

Then again, who's to say that things won't turn out for the better, right?

•••

Tagging: @drvrslcense @bubblybubbubs @dreamerball @quteez @aesthetxcimagines @chasingpj @beingleft @wadewilsonsgreatestfriend

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yee-fxcking-haw · 4 years ago

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•The Grey Area•

Part One: •Fallen Angel•

Summary: You're Enji Todoroki's prized possession, his Angel. Given this name because of your pure, white wings. Your quirk is truly unique, until you come face to face with Enji's new friend and hit man, Hawks. His presence shakes you, his abilities intimidate you. The roll he plays in your life? That's up in the air.

Pairing: Keigo Takami x FemReader, Endeavor x FemReader

Warnings: Violence, mentions of death, descriptions of death, sexual themes and implications, mentions of harassment, (Eventual smut, as well as other warnings- they will be at the beginning of each chapter.)

Word Count: 4,471

A/N: I'm gonna write this shit til I get sick of writing it. Not to suck my own dick but I am in love with this story idea so we're just gonna keep rolling til it feels right to end it lmao.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Silk may be the worst material ever invented. It slips and slides and hides absolutely nothing. Your lungs deflate as you slide your hands down the front of the horrid thing you've been asked to wear. It was laid out on your bed for you, with a small note that said, "Get dolled up for me." It isn't signed, it doesn't need to be.

It's a note from the man that more or less owns you. He likes to say he takes care of you, you like to say he holds your leash. At the end of the day, coming to him was what you needed to do to survive, so you did it. You shake the thoughts of how you came to be here from your head, ignoring the dreadful remnants of a time when you were desperate enough to turn to him for protection.

Enji Todoroki lives one of the most complex double lives in existence. He’s a magnificent hero, topping the charts and staying there. He saves lives, lets his flames shine bright, he's a beacon of hope.

He’s also an incredibly feared underground crime lord. When the flames are off, he's no longer heroic, he's no longer honorable. He's bloodthirsty, his friends are few and his enemies are many.

Keeping these two realms separate is quite the task, but he pulls it off with his vast wealth and by calling in the seemingly limitless favors from those he’s helped out of sticky situations.

The supposedly heroic faces you’ve seen slinking around his estate were jarring at first. The mighty do indeed fall, and they tumble right into his lap. They’re always after something, a loan, various narcotics, maybe some illegal steroids to increase their performances.

Enji loves a bargain, he loves to string those poor saps along until they’re too confused to agree to anything that’s reasonable. It’s horribly entertaining, as backwards as it all is, you’ve grown fond of the way he befuddles every hopeless individual that finds themselves desperate enough to seek out his help.

Usually, you’re there by his side. You block out the conversation as you serve drinks, laugh at the bad jokes, and most of all, look pretty. Your job is to be his greatest manipulation tactic. Give the suckers something to drool at, get them drunk, stay out of the way so Enji can lock in whatever deal he’s making.

You ruffle your hair, straighten your dress, and take one final glance in your mirror.

There’s a familiar tightness in your chest when you acknowledge the real reason you’re used as something to gawk at.

Your wings.

Two broad, unruly, attention grabbing, white wings emerging from your shoulder blades. Little speckles of brown and black exist among the sea of white feathers that fall all the way to the floor. The feathers at the tips always look pitiful, since their entire existence is spent dragging the floor.

They’re useless things, heavy and cumbersome and completely nonfunctional. You could probably fly if you wanted to, if somebody would teach you. You never stood a chance at that though, your parents couldn’t even begin to do so, and Enji certainly won’t waste energy on it. No, he likes having you on the ground. Safe and sound, much more convenient to keep you without a cage.

The bones of them often ache, obviously needing to be used, desperate to do their job. They most resemble the wings of a Barn Owl. Along with the wings, your quirk provides you with exceptional vision and hearing. Sometimes it feels like a sixth sense, like you can tell when things are going to happen before they actually do.

This, of course, makes you invaluable to Enji during his meetings. You’re able to pick up on nervous ticks, listen to the whispers, and tip him off. He does love keeping you around for that, you’ve assisted him innumerable times, and he always rewards so generously. He keeps you comfortable, spoiled even, anything for his Angel.

Enji’s Angel.

It was never very official, he just started calling you by it, and you started answering to it. In your younger years it was almost affectionate, slightly comforting. Now, it’s a scarlet letter, a stage name, belonging to somebody who doesn’t quite exist.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The meeting is absolute torture. Some schmuck is sitting across from you and Enji, blubbering his way through some bullshit about how he’ll have the money next week. You’re perched on Enji’s lap, reclining against his chest with your chin up high.

You’re all sitting around a large oak coffee table in Enji’s office, drinks in hands, guns in holsters.

“I swear, the guy I know, he owes me, he says he’ll have the money by this weekend, maybe even sooner!” The sniffling client begs. He’s a pitiful little man, all short and greasy looking, with bulbous eyes that sit above a large aquiline nose.

“Oh, how reassuring, my money is in the hands of a friend of a liar,” Enji sneers, voice low and menacing, “Doesn’t that put you at ease, Angel?” His hand snakes around your waist, making his claim on you evident to everyone in the room.

The client brought two goons with him, both sit on the lavish loveseat, watching with putrid envy as Enji’s hands roam across your middle.

You run your hand up his massive chest, making a show of adjusting your hips in his lap. You flash your eyes up to his and roll your shoulders, wings rippling as you do. The room is taken over by a heavy, consuming silence.

You survey Enji’s face, void of flames for such a serious event. You hear hearts beat faster, breathing quicken, idiots, every one of them.

“No, I don’t think it does, sir.” You purr, hand playing with the collar of his grey dress shirt.

This whole charade used to make your skin crawl, feeling eyes burn into your flesh, knowing that if Enji weren’t here you’d be laid out on the table while the pigs around you took turns.

You expressed this once, crying and shaking as you begged Enji to stop bringing you into them. His only response was to demand that you tell him whenever somebody was making you uncomfortable, and he would gladly take care of it.

It only took one client, one dense motherfucker who put his hand on your thigh. The second his hand was on you, Enji put a bullet in his head. You watched the blood splatter, and the body hit the floor, but ripped your eyes away after that. You turned into Enji’s chest, clutching him as you realised it was all your doing, Enji had killed for you.

Since then, you vowed to maintain a facade of confidence in these meetings. If Enji were to kill, it would be because of his own corrupted motives, not for you, never again.

You no longer let the bile rise in your throat, you don’t look away from any perverse gaze. You keep your nerves steady, and you stare the bastards down.

One of the goons shifts in their seat, making Enji shoot him a warning glance as you continue to fiddle with his shirt.

“I don’t think it’s wise to leave so much money up to ‘maybe’ and ‘this guy’.” You sigh as you slide off Enji’s lap, keeping your hand on his chest as you slink around to stand behind him. He gives you a knowing look, full of admiration and pride, he does love watching you perform.

Show time.

You flutter your wings out to the sides, stretching them, making a spectacle of them. All three of the men watch with comically amazed expressions. Their jaws may as well be on the floor, you slide your hands onto Enji’s broad shoulders so you can rub small circles into his muscles.

“I agree, I don’t like all this ‘maybe’ bullshit.” the energy in the room thickens as he speaks, falling into heavy silence in reverence of the power his voice exudes.

"Angel, will you grab us some more drinks?" You draw yourself up tall, ignoring the eyes that gorge on your decolletage.

"Yes Sir." You lean down to place a sweet kiss on Enji's cheek, flashing a little too much skin for his guests.

"Isn't she lovely, gentlemen?" He wonders out loud, looking up at you fondly.

No, not fondly, possessively, greedily. There's no loving tenderness that comes with fondness.

The men nod quietly, all afraid to cross a line, none willing to speak out of turn.

"Do a spin for them, sweetheart." He grabs your wrist and pulls you around to his side.

Your cheeks and ears run hot as he lifts your arm for you to spin, leaving space for your wings. You give a smooth twirl, feathers and dress flowing around you with a subtle woosh.

"Men would kill for her, don't you think?" Another round of silent nods, another wave of tense energy.

"I have." It's a warning, loud and clear.

He waves his hand in your direction, dismissive and bored.

"Go on, Angel. I have to have a private word with our guests." You glide out of the room gracefully, walking slowly enough so they can all watch you leave.

You swallow the terrible feelings rising in your gut, knowing damn well how rarely people leave that room alive after a "private word". You find your way to the kitchen easily, a tray of drinks already prepared on the fine granite countertop.

Enji's estate is nothing short of magnificent, all expensive foreign materials, gold fixtures and crystal chandeliers. All supplied by his mass of illegally acquired wealth.

One of the sweet little maids nods at you, gawking at your wings as always. You have a strange relationship with the staff at the house, they always treat you like some skittish animal. Afraid that you're unpredictable, even dangerous.

It's always seemed odd to you, but you've grown to understand it. None of them know where you came from, nor how you ended up in Enji's good graces, let alone a cherished prize to him.

On your way back down the hall, you hear the shouting of men, not an usual occurrence, but this time it makes your blood run cold. It sounds much more… painful, then usual. Cries for help mixed with curses and strangled yells. You freeze when the door rattles with such force, the only explanation can be that a body was thrown against it.

Then, there's silence. Silence, followed by sick laughter. You know Enji's voice too well, his rich tone fills your ears, but there's one other. Did he have an accomplice? It's not uncommon for Enji to have all his bases covered, so it's possible one of the goons was a double agent.

Your feet find their function again and you pad quietly towards the door. You take a second to breathe deeply, preparing yourself for the inevitable bloodshed you're about to witness.

You rap your knuckles on the door very quietly, wouldn't want to disturb the dead.

"Angel? Is that you?" Enji's voice calls as his laughter settles, the other man went silent as soon as your hand met the wood of the door.

"Yes sir." You say, trying to keep your voice soft but still wanting to be heard.

"Oh shit, get this out of the way."

A body.

You hear something slide then drop, and your chest squeezes with guilt. One day you won't have these feelings, one day seeing someone drop dead will evoke no more feeling than watching dead hair fall to the ground after it's trimmed. At least, that's what Enji tells you.

The door cracks open, a wall of a human standing on the other side of it. Enji beams down at you, the smallest amount of blood decorates his gray collar.

"Why do you always get so messy when I leave?" You tease, despite the sick feeling in your gut.

"It's a messy business." He counters, holding the door for you to step into the room. You expect the slit throats, the smell of blood, and the horrid joy in Enji's face. What you don't expect, is the creature poised in the corner of the room.

A creature with wings. No, not a creature, a man. With menacing, vibrant, crimson wings. His face is nothing but sharp serious lines, highlights of gold with intense shadows. He's covered in slim fitting black clothing, giving him a tactical and militant look.

He looks so powerful, and so beautiful. The only thing you can think to compare him to is a fallen angel, heavenly, but haunting.

In his hands, he holds a… sword? Then he steps further into view, and you see the blade shift. A feather. With a smooth, deadly twitch of his wrist, he flicks the rigid feather. It sends blood splattering across the floor where he stands.

His glowing eyes watch you, waiting for you to react, maybe waiting for you to scream, run away and hide. You can't, though, you're entranced. He has wings. Your own twitch behind your back, suddenly feeling even more cumbersome and useless after seeing how athletic and beautiful his own are.

As gruesome as the scene is, he's magnificent, stunning in such an overwhelming way. His eyes rake over your body, but it doesn't feel perverse, it feels like he's sizing you up, estimating your abilities.

Because he is.

"Angel, this is Hawks, he's a very good friend of mine." Enji explains, relaxing back into his chair as you and Hawks continue to watch each other.

You would never know it, but his breath hitched the second he saw you. Enji had told him about his Angel, but his description did you no justice. To Hawks, at least, you look capable, intimidating even. Your wings are equal in size to his, but compared to your smaller frame they look so fierce.

Neither of you has seen or heard of someone with a quirk like yours, or even remotely similar. So you stand there, amazed, in fear, sizing each other up.

"Isn't she something?" Enji's voice pulls you out of your trance, your eyes finally breaking from his friend's.

Hawks just hums, eyes still locked on your form as you set the tray of drinks down in front of Enji. He pours one for himself, then one for you, and one for Hawks. You take a glance around at the gore surrounding you, and shake your head at the drink.

"Not tonight, I'm tired." You try to sell it as best you can, but Enji sees right through you.

"Her stomach isn't very strong yet, sensitive little thing." He says to Hawks.

When you glance over to him, his reaction unsettles you. He grins, a broad, breathtaking thing. He's amused, embarrassed for you. How silly of you to be so bothered by a fucking murder scene.

Aside from the dead bodies, you can't stand another second under the predatory gaze of Enji's new friend. The whole scene makes you more uncomfortable than anything has in a long while. It's very apparent by Enji's lack of weapons, and by Hawks' feral appearance, that Hawks is some kind of hit man.

"Get some rest, then." Enji says dismissively.

You kiss him on the cheek, earning a rare smile from his usual straight lips. There's no affection behind your kiss, but there is loyalty, and he knows that.

Doing your best not to seem like you're in a rush, you keep your head down and walk steadily towards the door.

"Nice to meet you, Angel." His voice is like caramel syrup, dripping over you and heating you up.

You hate it.

You give him nothing but a turse nod then duck out the door, trying to keep your heart in it's cage, trying to keep your hands from shaking. What the hell was that?

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

You spend some time in the library before heading to bed. The fireplace crackles and pops, casting beautiful, dancing lights on the dark oak bookshelves. It's not a massive library, but it's decent. Full of books that have been collected by Enji, but not read. You do the reading, he does the acquiring.

Not tonight, though. Tonight you just sit, you sit and overthink. You can't seem to shake the uneasy feeling this "Hawks" character gave you. He was so primal looking, so unhinged, so… beastly.

The contrast of his beauty is what keeps punching you in the gut. He was nothing short of stunning, like a marble statue brought to life by an enchantress. That's even without his wings. God, his wings. He must look spectacular in the air, so majestic.

You stuff the thought down, deep down. The longing in your chest is enough to make your eyes sting with tears. Flying. A feeling you've never known, but the instinct burns beneath your skin. You wonder if even knows how lucky he is…

You grab onto those thoughts before they run away, standing to your feet with a stretch and a ruffle of your own wings.

You just need sleep, you need to shake this off. Enji has plenty of "friends", plenty of lowlifes and murderers that he keeps close. Hawks is no different, he'll linger for a bit, then disappear under mysterious circumstances, and you'll never hear his name again.

The thought should bring your comfort as you travel to your bedroom, but as you wander through the halls, your chest aches. Somehow, the idea of not knowing all you can about this stranger makes you itch. Which in turn, makes you detest his presence even more. There's no reason for such a fascination… aside from your resemblance to him.

The sound of your bedroom door latching behind you does bring you some piece, lifting some of the weight off of your lungs. Until you hear the slightest ruffle echo from the direction of your window.

The hair on your neck stands on end as you draw your wings up to their full size. Your shoulders are rigid, fists clenched as you whip your head around to identify the sound.

"Do you always sleep with the door unlocked?" That sugary voice falls on your ears once again, raising goosebumps all over your body.

You don't answer, you only watch, inching backwards towards the door. There could be only one reason one of Enji's friends would corner you like this, the thought makes your heart beat to the point of nearly breaking through your chest.

He's perched on your windowsill, feet dangling into the room, wings relaxed behind him as the wind catches his scarlet feathers. The curtains away around him as they catch the cool breeze, the whole scene gives him an almost ghostly look, especially with the pale light of the moon as the only illumination in your bedroom.

"Easy, kid." He slides off lazily, arms crossed as he saunters towards you, "I just wanted to talk."

His lips quirk up into an easy smirk, something that makes your insides stir.

"Talk quick, then get out." You snap, pressing your back against the door, drawing your wings in around yourself protectively as your arms wrap around your chest. He stops nearly a foot from you, his own wings spread wide, almost like he's showing off.

The energy is thick, pressing on your lungs as you watch his face. He looks down his nose at you, not judging, but observing. His eyes are lit with a patient look, something soft but relatively unreadable. His proximity overwhelms you, even up close, you're hard pressed to find a single flaw.

There you stand, shrouded in scarlet, him in white. Both waiting for the other to speak, or move, or even breathe. Desperate for some evidence that you were both real and not some apparition sent to mock your poor mortal brain with an image of unparalleled perfection.

Wild, dazzling, gilded eyes search your face. Predatory pupils slit as he takes in every detail he can. His chest rises, and he speaks. He utters a simple, "They're beautiful." and everything shatters.

A cadence of feelings builds within your chest, tuning up like an orchestra. All unorganized noise, arching and mixing, impossible to focus on anything in particular.

Then the most beautiful part, the settling of the chaos. All of the instruments find their notes as they fade out. The anticipatory silence settles within you, preparing you for the moment when they all roll into the first cord of their symphony.

You don't feel right taking the name Angel, not after this, not after you've seen one. Your reverence for his beauty is short lived, though. As soon as you remember the way his eyes were wild with bloodlust, the way he had taken lives with his own feathers.

Admiration is replaced with apprehension. However, the strongest feeling is curiosity, morbid, forbidden curiosity.

You shove the compliment to the far corners of your brain, ignoring the fire it stokes in your heart.

"Talk or leave." You say shortly.

"Not a fan of flattery?" He asks, quirking a thick eyebrow.

"Not a fan of coercion." You reply, arms drawing tighter around your chest.

Hawks pauses for a moment, considering your answer.

"What are you a fan of?" His smile grows a bit more as he turns away from you on his heels, looking almost bored. You stay glued to your door, wrapped around yourself, completely frozen.

"Well, I'm usually a fan of not having my room invaded by murderers." You sneer, attempting to ignore the way his body moves so elegantly as he investigates your room with fabricated intrigue.

He scoffs a bit at your feisty retort, looking over his shoulder to give you quick up and down with his eyes. He wanders back to the window, back to you as he takes a look out.

"A murderer. That's a bold accusation, sweetheart." He turns around again, backlit by the moonlight.

"Can you use em'?" He asks, nodding behind you.

The question bites at your insides, it twists your guts up onto angry knots.

You shake your head, you can't say it out loud, you can't admit it.

His face falls the slightest bit, less amused, more aware. Perhaps he feels sympathy, imagining a life without the freedom of flight.

"I see." He says quietly, "A dove?" He wonders out loud.

His prying starts to eat at your patience, you already feel intruded upon by him sneaking into your bedroom, and now he wants to dissect your anatomy? Yet, you still find yourself drawn to the conversation, hanging on his words, hoping to gain information about him in exchange for information about yourself.

"Owl." You say simply, easing off the door a little so you can spread your wings some, "The markings give it away."

He nods, taking in the messy brown and black speckles at the tips.

"How did you do that with your feather?" You ask, works spilling out a little too fast.

Both of his eyebrows shoot up, surprised by your sudden engagement in the conversation.

His only reply is by drawing himself up by his shoulders. Then, miraculously, one of his feathers flies from his wing, darting straight for you until it pauses in front of your face. You flinch slightly before it pauses, then you stand transfixed, watching the small crimson blade levitate before you.

You want to reach out and grab it, find the string that's holding it up, find the answer to this magic trick.

"Pretty cool, huh?" He says, full of confidence as he sways back over to you, "You can touch it." He says gently.

So you do, you take it into your hand gently. The texture is shocking, it's soft and silky, much more pleasant than your coarse and textured feathers.

"How?" You ask, amazed by his abilities.

He shrugs and turns around again, pacing back to the window. You take a mental note of his inability to stand still for longer than a few seconds.

"I just… can." He says it so matter of fact, like it's the obvious answer.

Now that he's more relaxed, not holding a feather dripping with blood, he seems almost... Friendly? He certainly seems less frightening, less aggressive and formidable.

You hold the feather in your palms, waiting for the next trick.

"Keep it." He says as he settles back down onto the windowsill, sitting like he was when you first found him.

He stretches an arm around to brace on the outside of the window frame, leaning back into the open air of the night. For a brief moment you panic, knowing you're on the third floor, but then you just feel stupid for being concerned for a person with functioning wings.

"Why?" You ask, closing in your hands as you look up at him.

His smile is devilish, he rolls his shoulders back and lifts himself up to his feet. He crowds the large window, filling it with his lean body and those powerful wings.

"In case you need me." He winks and gives you a lazy, two finger salute before letting himself fall away into the sky.

Your chest lurches as you dart to the window, desperate to see him in action, desperate to see someone fly.

By the time you reach the window, though, he's nowhere to be seen. Evaporated into the stars, not even the sound of beating wings left as evidence.

You glance down at the feather in your hands, and notice it twitch to life before it floats up to hover in front of your face again. Your chest fills with an absolute mess of unorganized, chaotic feelings that you can't even begin to pull apart and make sense of.

The feather flicks under your chin, tickling the skin there with its pointed tip. You snatch it roughly, irritated with the teasing, perturbed by his nonchalance. You slam the window shut before huffing over to your dresser, you rip a drawer open and shove the feather between your clothes.

You slam it shut as the raging sea of emotions beats against your chest, drowning your lungs as well as any cognitive brain function.

You can't make sense of any of this shit, you can't imagine how anyone could have ever made it up to your room without Enji's knowledge. Unless… he was let up… but that doesn't make any sense. None of it does. It's all so cloudy, you feel thousands of questions swarm your brain, and you don't possess a single answer.

The only thing you know for sure, is that you have to find out more about this fallen angel, you have to find out more about Hawks.

#takami keigo #my hero academia #hawks #hawks au #my hero au #my hero smut #hawks angst #mha hawks #my hero hawks #keigo takami #Keigo #keigo x you #hawks x you #hawks series #keigo takami smut #hawks smut

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ethanharli · 4 years ago

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Requested: 😘 i want to request, Reader is Eggsy ex-boyfriend (I guess) because Eggsy suddenly dissapear (coz his job being a spy) and no contact at all. One day reader see wounded Eggsy chased by some guy(VILLAIN) and reader help him to hide. And maybe some couple argument then room become heated and they can't help to touch each other lmao. Maybe some rough or kink to reminisce their relationship? Well anything is fine 😙

Pairing(s): Gary 'Eggsy' Unwin x Top Male Reader.

Warning(s): Slight Angst (but mostly fluff), Slight Arguing, Nfsw/Smutt, Kinda rough, Definitely biting, Couch sex, Begging.

A/n- I have never seen Kingsman and I have no idea if it takes place in a city (cause that's what I did and I realized it right when I finished it). And I'm sorry if this is bad :"(

___________________________________

Pushing my hands deeper into the pockets of my jacket I looked at the night sky, letting out a long drawn out breath, just to watch it blow away in the cold air. I always made it a habit to go on cool night walks, but they always feel lonelier then they used to, mostly cause I used to go on these walks with my ex-lover. It's been about two, maybe three years since he disappeared, just up and left with no way to get in contact with him, and I've slowly made peace with the fact I might not ever get to see him again, so all I can do is hope that where ever he is, he's okay. Taking a deep breath I headed down the sidewalk, trying to avoid the people that walked by, but out the corner of my eye I spotted two people running on the other side of the street, and I couldn't help but feel like one of them seemed familiar.

Looking down the side walk and back towards were I saw them, I didn't know what to do, on one hand I wanted to see what was going on but on the other I just wanted to head home. "Fuck it" After a moment of thinking it over I quickly crossed the street, making my way down the path they had ran, cursing once again when I found a gate blocking my way. Ripping off my jacket I let it fall to the ground before gripping onto the gate and swiftly pushing myself over it, hitting the ground on the other side with a soft thud. A small huff slipped past my lips as I saw only two paths, both left and right, most noise and footsteps coming from the left so I headed towards the right, "If I'm quick enough I might be able to get there before them."

Picking up the pace I quickly darted around the corners, using my security guard training as a way to keep a steady breath and cut corners. Finally making it to a clearing I saw the street was bustling with people, so taking a deep breath I headed to the other side of the alley, seeing the two quickly heading this way. So pressing my back to the other side of the wall I hid from their vision, quickly grabbing the arm of the one being chased as he came out of the alley and pulling him to the side. "What the-" I didn't let him continue as I dragged him into the crowd, watching as the other person let out a frustrated huff, scanning around on last time before walking away.

"[Y/n]?" I instantly turned at the call of my name, about to question how they knew it until my eyes meet a familiar blue pair. "Eggsy.." My breath caught in my throat as I looked at him, his brown hair obviously slick with gel but slowly starting to fall in front of his face, lips slightly parted as he panted for breath, but his eyes had me captivated, as they always did and I didn't know how to feel, torn between hugging him or yelling at him. Yet, once I heard a soft hiss slip past his lips as he gripped his side I pushed my feelings away and gently rested my hand on his shoulder, guiding him through the crowd, "Let's get you patched up." We didn't speak much on the way towards my apartment, he mostly sent awkward glances my way but I was to stuck in my own head to really care.

So when we arrived I made sure to check around making sure we weren't followed before I got him inside and settled him on a chair in the living room. "Take your shirt off, I need to look at the wound" I spoke bluntly, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that it's him, that he's here, after three long, painful years of nothing, he's finally here. Shaking my head I pulled out a first aid kit from the top cupboard, making sure to take a seat in front of the injured male, while trying to make sure my eyes didn't wander over his bare torso. Yet I immediately spotted the medium sized bruise on his side, it was a nasty shade of dark purple and I could tell it'll last for a long while, so, I went to work.

Five minutes, it took five minutes of him staring at me and gently pressing a heated pad to his side for him to finally say something. "You're still here? You always talked about moving, you worked hard so you could" His tone was soft and steady, but hesitant and I can't really blame him for that. Fidgeting every so often under my touch, trying to relax against the chair as I tapped my foot against the wooden floor, "Yeah well, that was before my boyfriend just up and disappeared out of no where." I didn't mean for the words to come out so harsh, but I couldn't deny the anger that slowly bubbled up within me. All the pent up anger and frustration over the years that I tried so hard to forget about, coming crashing back in one big tidal wave.

"[Y/n], I'm sorry I-"

"You're sorry?"

My eyes narrowed as I glared at him, trying my best to keep my anger under wraps as I grit my teeth together, "You left! Do you know how hard it was to know I went to sleep with you in my arms, thinking everything was alright, that we were alright, only to wake up with you gone." My body tensed at the memory of that night, remembering how we laughed and kissed, like there wasn't a thing wrong in the world and it was just us two. Going to bed with him in my arms, and telling each other 'I love you,' only to wake up alone, with all his stuff gone as well, "[Y/n] I had no choice." Something in me seemed to snap as I quickly stood from my seat, the hand that kept the warm pack on his side tensing slightly, as I leaned over him, not caring about the close proximity when I rested my hand on the back of the chair, trapping him between it and myself.

"No choice? You could've told me you were leaving! I spent three years- three long agonizing years thinking you left cause you didn't want to be with me anymore! And if that were the case then why not just fucking tell me?!" I couldn't stop the sudden rise of my voice, glaring into his blue eyes as I brought myself closer to him, making sure to keep eye contact even if we were only a few inches apart. Letting out a heavy breath I ignored the heat rising in his cheeks as I pressed forward, "I spent countless nights looking for you! Wondering where the hell you could've gone, and wondering if you were alright, cause I was scared shitless!" Tears slowly gathered in my eyes as I looked at him, feeling my heart ache in my chest, not feeling the way his hands rested on my arms.

"I was told to give up, I was told to accept the reality that you were probably dead, but I couldn't- I couldn't because I lo-!" My eyes widened when he pulled me down into a desperate kiss that I couldn't help but sink into, letting my eyes flutter shut as I brought my hand to the back of his head, running my fingers through the soft brown strands as our lips slid together perfectly, and I couldn't help but remember those countless nights we shared before as I dragged my tongue along his lower lip, shyly brushing our tongues together when he finally granted me access. However my hands traveled beneath his thighs, making sure not to touch his bruise as I hoisted him up and moved us towards the couch, pressing his bare back against the couch cushions before I peeled off my shirt and threw it to the side. I practically drank in the sight of him, a rosey red blush coated his cheeks and dusted lightly over his shoulders, his chest rising and falling as he panted softly, "Absolutely stunning, every god damn inch of you."

His blush only seemed to deepen from my words, while our noses bumped together slightly as he quickly pulled me back down into a feverish kiss, my hands trailing over his torso, rolling my thumbs over his nipples, forcing a high pitched whimper past his throat that had my cock throbbing from the sound of it. "Good to know you're still sensitive here" A sly smirk was brought to my face as I leaned towards his neck, dragging my tongue up his heated skin before I chuckled softly and bit down, "Ngh!" His pleasured grunts and roll of his hips against my own encouraged me to continue, making sure to litter his neck and shoulders with multiple love bites, as my thumbs continued to toy with his perky buds. "F-Fuck, [Y/n] please.." Sitting up I adjusted myself between his legs, drawing my tongue over my upper lip as I looked down at him, "C'mon baby, you know what to do" He narrowed his eyes at me in slight irritation but he knew as well I did that he enjoys it. So propping himself up against the armrest he looked me in the eyes as he unbuckled his pants, "Please [Y/n].. I need you, I need to feel you," He panted softly, beginning to slide out of his jeans and boxers, "Please, fill me up."

The mere sight of him nearly had me choking, and I hadn't realized just how much I missed the feeling of him beneath me, the feeling of him pressed against me. In a quick motion I brought my fingers to my lips, coating them in my saliva before moving them between his legs and positioning my middle finger at his entrance, "You ready sweetheart?" Watching him nod I let out a drawn breath before slowly pressing my finger inside him, watching him squirm a bit and I couldn't help but notice how tight he is.

"Let me kn-"

"Move."

His breathy moan caught me a bit off guard, but I was happy to comply and started to thrust my finger at an even pace, letting my lips continue to explore the unmarked places of his neck before sliding in another finger, "Ngh, Fuck" His moans only spurred me on and I couldn't help but notice how uncomfortably tight my pants have gotten. "Please just- just put it in [Y/n] please!" With a low chuckle I nodded my head, pulling my fingers out of him so that I could take off my own jeans and boxer briefs, then position my tip at his entrance, slowly pushing inside of him and shuddering at the feeling of his tight walls around me. "Fuck! Y-You can move" Letting out a soft pant I slowly rocked my hips, letting us both adjust until I quickened my pace, searching for a certain spot I had memorized years ago.

His nails dug in and raked down my back, letting out a broken shuddering moan that let me know I had found it, "There! Shit-" He groaned out as I made sure to hit that spot, raising my hand to gently wipe away the tears that gathered in his eyes before capturing his lips with my own, feeling his hips jerk when my other hand made it's way to his throbbing cock, causing my core to sting when he moaned into my ear, "I-Im gonna cum" He hissed softly, now rocking his hips with my own. "Go ahead sweetheart, cum for me" I spoke huskily, running my thumb over his tip while hitting his prostate dead on. Causing his body to shudder and tense beneath me, cumming into my hand as I speeded up my thrusts, hearing his breath hitch in his throat, "In or out?" I asked through clenched teeth, feeling him wrap his legs tightly around my waist, "In."

So with a quick thrust I came inside him, letting out hard batted pants that mixed with his own, and I couldn't help but lay on his chest, cuddling into him like I had done many times in the past, loving the feeling of his fingers running through my hair, I was tired, we both were, but I was scared to fall asleep, "Eggsy.." I spoke softly, looking up into his eyes as he smiled back at me, "Yes?"

"Please be here when I wake up.."

"I will, I promise."

And to my surprise, he was.

#kingsman #x male reader #x seme male reader #eggsy x reader #eggsy x male reader #eggsy x top male reader #eggsy x seme male reader #eggsy x dom male reader #kingsman eggsy

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confusednarcissistwrites · 4 years ago

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okok hi so basically I’ve been working on this lil blurb but idk I think maybe you might be much much better than me for it , ur writing slapssss, but basically it’s a Daniel Middleton piece based off the song Lost by frank ocean where the reader is part of their dealing ring and is in love w danny and gets too wrapped up in the business but danny is too busy with his crush on mckayla to notice ? Idk I know it’s super specific but just a thought I had

OKAY SO

I took a LOT of liberties with this request, but I did it for a reason. PLEASE WRITE THIS FIC. I guarantee that no one else could write it better than you, okay? Also, I’m SO sorry this took me ages to finish and apologies to all my other requests as well. I’m really going to try and get more work out to you guys in the next few weeks.

Alright, without further ado, I hope you enjoy this raunchy ass fic lmao

Third Wheel (D.M.)

(smut, angst, blood, violence, cheating, cursing)

The Bonnie and Clyde of Cape Cod.

You and Hunter Strawberry had been together for as long as anyone could remember. Even in elementary school, you two had reigned over your peers with an iron fist; no one fucked with either of you in fear of pissing off the other. As you both got older, your relationship progressed from a platonic partnership to a romantic one. This often entailed hot and heavy sightings at the drive-in, and mangled noses on faces of guys who decided to look at you just a little bit too long.

You had been happy. He was your constant. You both had an undying loyalty to each other as business partners and lovers.

But then came Danny Middleton.

Danny was a scrawny boy from nowhere who didn’t belong anywhere. Perhaps it was fate that he would meet Hunter that hideously hot day in 1991 in that little convenience store. People didn’t notice Danny until he started running around with Hunter.

You were hesitant, bitter even that Hunter let someone else on the team without talking to you first. You were more of a distributor than a seller, but you had thought you were more involved than to be excluded. The more you heard about Danny, the less Hunter asked you to make drop-offs. You felt you were getting wedged out.

The first time you met Danny was a whirlwind. He’d claimed a cousin of his had a hookup across town, but the rendezvous went south quickly. You vividly remember stepping in between the two, your fist meeting the side of the guy’s jaw with a sickening crack. He didn’t do much to fight back as he was pretty doped up, but you weren’t about to take any risks when he pulled a gun from his belt. Danny sat cornered and slack-jawed as he watched you wail on the man he’d been threatened by just moments before. Once you got him onto the ground, you knocked the pistol from his hand and straddled his middle, slamming the butt across his face. Adrenaline blurred your vision as blood splattered, your relentless attack not stopping until he quit moving. You lifted yourself up, meeting Danny’s terrified gaze for a brief moment before walking out of the house, him tailing behind you.

Hunter was furious when you both got back into the car. “What the fuck happened?” You were both visibly bloodied.

“I took care of it. Let’s go,” you replied calmly, handing him the piece. Hunter looked up at you and then at Danny in the back seat, handing him the gun wordlessly before speeding back to the garage.

When you got back, you sat up on the counter, your head back against the cupboards. Hunter dabbed at your swollen knuckles with a soapy cloth. “You okay, doll?” he asked quietly, looking up at you through his blonde lashes.

“Mhm,” you nodded, watching as he bandaged you up. He pressed a kiss to your cheek before helping you down and walking with you to the seating area where Danny was sat, his head in his hands still lost in thought. Hunter sat down on the sofa and you laid down with your head in his lap.

“You will never pull anything like that again. You hear me?” Hunter’s voice was calm and chilling. “Do you understand me?”

Danny nodded, standing up. “We’ll find another way.”

“Are you even fucking listening to me? I just said no-“

“No, look, you’re upset, I get it. But we’ll find a way to work this out if you just let me-“

“Drop it, Middleton. Go home.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, willing the pounding in your skull to ease. You listen as Danny walked out of the shop, the bell chiming above the door as he left.

“He’s reckless,” you mumbled, opening your eyes to look up at Hunter.

He just nodded, his fingers brushing over your collarbone as he stared into space in thought.

You didn’t like it. Nothing would change your mind. The business was for you and Hunter, and that was it. Danny was only trouble. And Hunter probably would have agreed with you if the next few days had played out differently.

••••••

In the course of a week, the group was making quadruple what you were before. Contacts were made, deliveries were driven, and money was counted in a circle every night, going three ways. It was the kind of summer we watched in movies, and now you were living the dream. The three of you spent evenings together getting high surrounded by cash; it was unreal. You all grew quite close through inebriated conversations about life and the world. You felt you could rely on either of them for anything you needed at any time.

It was because of this you didn’t speak up despite your growing insecurity in this situation. You’d felt Hunter rarely had time for you anymore, as though you were becoming a third wheel to him and Danny despite your relationship. But who were you to allow your insecurities to get in the way of the biggest break he’d had in his life? So you stayed quiet. Perhaps that was why the resentment building in you grew so poisonous.

You and Danny often jabbed at each other, usually scuffling over little bullshit that didn’t really matter. Hunter acted as a mediator when things got too heated, much to your irritation. He rarely defended you, sometimes even siding with Danny when he was feeling ballsy. You could feel the problems piling up. The rift between you and your boyfriend growing wider, and you couldn’t help but to notice that everything had been fine between you until little Middleton had shown up.

••••••

It was an especially hot August day when everything went to shit. It seemed everyone in town was a bit more irritable when the sun was beating down incessantly, an unbeatable oppressor. You could feel sweat against the small of your back, even as the wind whipped through your hair as Hunter drove across town with the top down. Danny was sprawled out in the backseat, his feet hanging over the rear passenger door. It irritated you to see him take up so much space like he owned the place. Granted, pretty much everything he did irritated you.

You arrived back at the shop, this week’s product in hand. You placed the duffle down on the coffee table, Hunter unzipping it and reaching in to retrieve an order he had to run. “I’ll be back in an hour. Try not to kill each other,” he called, hiding the weed in his bag and heading back out to the car. This wasn’t unusual, but Danny usually left right away, either running his own deliveries or just getting away from you. But today he lingered.

“Y/N, can I talk to you about something?” He sat on the arm of the couch while you fixed a pot of coffee, your back to him.

“Uh, sure?” you replied, not turning to face him. Despite knowing practically everything about each other, he rarely made conversation with you.

Danny looked down at his hands, fumbling with his fingers for a beat before speaking. “Well, you see, I just- I have this thing for this girl. And- well, not just any girl. She’s kinda just-“

“Spit it out, Middleton,” you sang, quickly losing patience with his childish ramblings. Was he seriously coming to you for girl advice of all things?

“Fuck,” he sighed frustratedly. “It McKayla. I’ve been.. talking to her, more or less, for awhile now and-“

He’s interrupted by your laugher. You finally turned around, hands behind you against the counter as you shook your head at him. “McKayla? As in McKayla Strawberry? Are you kidding?”

He gives you a look of offense, his brow drawing together. “Yes, that McKayla. Why else would I be talking to YOU about this?”

You shook your head, pinching your brow. “You’ve done a lot of stupid shit, but this really takes the cake.”

“Listen, I just-“

“After all Hunter has done for you? You’re really going to throw that all away for some girl?”

“She’s not ‘some girl,’ okay? I really like her!” Danny insisted, standing up off of the couch defensively.

“You’re right; she’s your so-called best friend’s sister! I know for a fact he’s told you to stay away from her. But you can’t keep in your pants can you?” You were angry. After all the time you’d spent being loyal to Hunter, he was ignoring you for this kid who wouldn’t even respect him enough to stay away from his little sister.

“This isn’t even about McKayla is it?” Danny jabbed, stepping closer as he threw his hands up. “You’re just jealous I’m into someone and not following you around like a puppy like everyone else, huh? Is that why you’re so shitty to me all the time? Are you into me?”

You snapped, your white-hot temper taking control. Without hesitation, you stepped up into his face, your hands clenched right at your sides. His eyes widened, reflexively stepping back, but you follow. “Shut the fuck up. You have no idea what you’re doing,” you growled, poking him in the chest.

“Just admit you want my attention, Y/N.”

The resonance of your hand colliding with his cheek travelled through the room before you even could think. His back was against the wall, his eyes round, jaw hanging slack, and his hand on his cheek. You both stood and stared at each other for a moment, the sound of the slap still resonating in your ears along with your pumping blood as you waited for him to move. He knew this and unabashedly glanced down at your lips.

You reached out, wrapping your fingers around his throat. You’re not sure why you do it, but you were unable to resist; you needed to put Danny Middleton back in his place. What you didn’t expect was the full-fledge moan that left his parted lips. It startled you for a moment before going right to your head, power-lust settling into your veins as thick as syrup. You smirked, pressing a bit harder to watch the way the scrawny boy’s eyes fluttered and his jaw clenched. He opened his mouth to speak, but you weren’t having any of it.

You crashed your lips into his. Despite knowing there was no turning back from this, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. ‘Take that, Strawberry.’ Danny’s hands flew up to grip your hips, your kiss all tongue and teeth. It was ravenous, angry, and made you ache between your legs in a way Hunter never had, in a way that came from you knowing you were in control.

“Y/N.. what about.. Hunter?” Danny managed between kisses. He was sweating bullets, but the tent in his jeans told you he had no intention of making you stop.

You pull back half an inch, your grip returning around his throat. “I don’t want to hear anything out of that fucking mouth other than ‘yes’ and ‘no’, am I understood.

He listened to you with doe eyes, pupils blown out. “Yes, Miss.”

You smirked, leaning in and catching his bottom lip between your teeth and gave it a tug. “Good boy,” you praised.

He practically went limp at your words, another whimper escaping him. You both moved in a blur back to the couch, stripping clothes off with each stumbling step. You felt drunk without a drop of liquor in your system. Tomorrow would bring hell, and you knew it, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was then and there and making a statement.

You fell heavily into his lap, both of you clad in just your undergarments. Danny’s length prodded insistently at your thigh, and you remember recognizing that he was a lot bigger than you had anticipated. His hands gripped your waist while you ground your hips against his, kissing him ferociously. You listen intently as soft moans are pulled from his throat.

“What is it, Danny Boy? Never touched a girl before?” Your words were snide, full of contempt despite the ache that was building in you for more. His eyes fluttered, rolling back into his head in response.

You just smirked, shifting down to yank his boxers down. “Well, well, well. Looks like this is where you get all your nerve, huh?” His erection stood rigid and leaking against his navel, visibly aching to be touched. Danny bit down on his tongue, his hands tugging at his hair as he fought to keep quiet. It was bad. It was so so bad, but he knew there was no stopping you; not that he had the willpower to make you stop anyway.

“I asked you a question.”

“Y-Yes, Miss.”

You made quick work of your bra and panties, feeling his eyes on you the whole time. When you finally looked back, you were greeted by this desperate, open-mouthed, horny expression taking over his face. Feeling a surge of power run through you, you placed yourself in his lap. Danny let out a soft cry and his hands flew to your hips as you rocked your hips, sliding his length between your slick folds. It was then you came back to yourself, realizing what exactly you were about to do. It took weeks for you to realize it, but you knew your life had slipped out of your hands. Never again.

Raising your hips, you slid him inside of you. You cursed softly as the very welcome stretch made you see stars. “Fuck, good boy,” you praised.

Danny was a fucking wreck. He was gasping for air, hands gripping your hips in fear of moving anywhere else, but needing to touch you. Your praises turned him on in a way he didn’t know about before. He was reduced to a trembling mess, and you loved every second of it. If someone had held a gun to his head asked him about Hunter right then, he wouldn’t have even recognized his name.

You closed your eyes and began to rock your body, focusing on the feeling of him inside of you. He was forbidden fruit: a new sensation you’d thought you’d never experience. Little did you know how much was out there for you outside of Hunter. Your palms laid splayed out against his chest as you found your rhythm, both of you cursing like sailors.

Eventually, Danny built the courage to shift his hips, beginning to meet your thrusts with his own. You cried out, feeling him brush against your most sensitive places. “Danny, fuck, that feels so good,” you whined, hair falling around your face and swaying in time with your shared movements.

“Y/N..” Danny groaned, an edge of warning to his voice. His hands now roamed over your middle, thumbs brushing against the undersides of your breasts.

“Are you gonna cum? You gonna cum in your partner’s girl?” you taunted him cruelly.

Danny gasped, letting out a higher moan. “F-fuck, yes. I’m gonna cum,” he warned.

You reached between your bodies, rubbing quick circles against your clit. Whimpers of your own increased, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the small room.

That was when Hunter walked back through the door.

#timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet fluff #timothee chalamet smut #timothée chalamet request #timothée chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet smut #timothée chalamet blurb #timothée chalamet imagine #timothée chamalet #danny middleton x reader #danny middleton imagine #danny middleton smut #hot summer nights imagine #hot summer nights #confusednarcissistwrites

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ckret2 · 4 years ago

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Alastor weight gain AU one-shot.

This was written for @ChonkWeek on twitter, an art week devoted to Chonkastor (chunky/fat Alastor), hosted by @Jagged_Bailey who kicked all this off by drawing a whole bunch of wonderful Chonkastor fanart.

I seriously adore all of the Chonkastor art, so I've been wanting to write a fic as a "thank you" for months, and then ChonkWeek came around and I had a perfect opportunity... and I got too busy this week to finish a fic on time lmao. So here it is a day late!

This is sort of a fusion of three of the prompts, Day 1 "Greetings" + Day 5 "Free Day" + Day 7 "Feast", and inspired by Jagged_Bailey's tweet about how we got from thin-as-a-post Alastor to Chonkastor.

When Alastor died, he was a spindly, half-starved thing, and burning off what little energy he had left to use his new postmortem powers. He immediately started devouring as much as he could to build his strength back up.

And then he never stopped devouring.

He couldn't be happier.

Alastor wasn't surprised to die.

His life was a candle and not only had he been burning it at both ends for years, he'd started shaving wax off the sides to get at the wick in the middle and start fraying it. The bullet through his brain was just the physical manifestation of the wick at his core fraying apart, his entire life burning up under the matches in his own hands.

When he landed in Hell—hungry, frayed, burning—he made everyone he found burn with him.

And when the blazing haze of bloodlust cleared from his mind, he wandered in a daze through the streets until he passed the outer perimeter of his carnage, stumbled through the door of the first restaurant with lights on he spotted, and demanded to know what they were serving.

###

"Cheesesteak is fine." Alastor didn't know how one put cheese on a steak, but he was picturing a mountain of melted mozzarella oozing over a nearly-raw red ribeye. His throat was dry and his voice was thin and crackly, but his mouth started salivating. "Give me two."

Instead of confirming Alastor's order, the imp behind the counter asked, "Did you come from there?" He nodded in the direction of the carnage. Most of the other customers in the restaurant—many of whom seemed to be huddling for safety at their tables rather than engaged in dining—glanced nervously in the same direction. A radio behind the counter played a news broadcast, the broadcaster's voice harried and unprofessional as he described the recent devastation.

Alastor nodded. His vision swam; he was dizzy with exhaustion and hunger. The massacre and the broadcast—a broadcast from him, as though he himself was a radio tower, god, he was too lightheaded to glory in it properly—it had drained him completely; he felt like he did when he stayed up a day and a half straight because he'd skipped sleep in favor of squeezing a murder in between two work shifts, and on top of that like he hadn't eaten the whole time.

"You got money?" the imp asked.

Of course he didn't—he'd only just landed in Hell buck naked, he'd been lucky to find clothing at all. "No."

"Then get out," the imp snapped. "This ain't a refugee camp. You can't hide from that radio demon here unless you're a paying customer."

(Read the rest on AO3!)

(And if you enjoy, I’d appreciate a reblog or a comment, either here or on AO3!)

#alastor #hazbin hotel #fanfic #my writing

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syilcawrites · 4 years ago

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archived memories | 8

Series: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild Type: Multi-Chapter Main pairing: Zelink (Zelda and Link) Rated: T Tags/Genre: pre-calamity, fluff (middle chapters mostly), hurt (toward the last chapters lmao), pining Summary: bits and pieces of zelink scenes strewn in between the canon memories in botw! Snippet from Ch 8: “She had always thought that the coolness of his eyes never resembled who he actually was, but this time, they reflected the true color of how he seemed at that moment—icy blue.” A/N: Between Memory 9-10 You can also read it on ao3! Click here to see all chapters on tumblr

chapter 8: a cruel realization

Zelda prayed.

And prayed.

Despite all of her praying, she was never sure if she was even doing it right.

Was there a specific way to do it? Was she doing it wrong? Did she even have the blood of Hylia coursing through her veins?

An icy jolt staggered up her body and she violently shivered in response, rippling the water around her. It was the first movement in hours among the emptiness that surrounded her thoughts. She shot her eyes open, exhaling sharply out of her nose, finally aware of how much her body was shaking. The reflection of the full moon in the water wavered in front of her, bright and distracting, reminding her that another day would soon rise—and how this one was wasted. She squeezed her eyes shut once more.

Anger gripped at the edges of her mind as it hung on to the last strings of her attempted, desperate praying. But the last couple of hours felt like she had simply been begging, not praying.

Begging for something, anything, a flash of light, a vision, just… anything.

And yet, despite it all, despite everything, there was no revelation.

Was there supposed to be one? She didn’t even know.

Link shuffled behind her, his sword scraping against the stone floor just enough to remind her that he was there. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she had momentarily forgotten she wasn’t alone. She shuddered again, though this time, an involuntary hiss escaped between her chattering teeth. She held on to the feeble hope that he didn’t hear it, but every movement she emitted never seemed to evade him. He shuffled again, drawing Zelda out of her ruminating thoughts even more. She convinced herself that he was planning to retire for the night—except, she heard a loud splash.

The sound completely withdrew her from the depths of her mind.

She swiveled back, pressing her hands against her chest, as she watched Link push through the water toward her.

“Link what are you—“ She flinched as his warm hand cupped her cheek—so warm that it stung her.

“You’re freezing, Princess.” A stern look passed across his features—a semblance to a frown, with eyebrows knitted up in concern. His typically guarded eyes softened just a little.

“I—“ Zelda hesitated, sighing as she dropped her shoulders. “No. I’m… I can almost hear the Goddess. I swear it.” She cursed herself for sounding so shaky, but regardless, she turned back around, moving away from his hand. She tangled her fingers together even tighter than before.

This was the first time he had ever tried to stop her, and it irked her. Itched under her skin, like… like he was giving up on her. And out of everyone—she didn’t want it to be him.

The thought of it pricked her eyes irritably.

“Please,” he whispered, delicately placing a hand on her pale shoulder. She shivered at his touch, curling into herself. He was always soft spoken, but not like this; pained and pleading.

“I’ll stay here even if the Goddess takes me,” she insisted sharply. The cruel words had slipped out without much thought, and only when she said it did she realize how grim it sounded.

But somewhere, deep within her, she knew those words rang true.

“T-That’s not what I meant,” Zelda stammered immediately after. She opened her mouth to explain, but she couldn’t find the energy to somehow mask the truth she had just spoken, so instead, her words were left hanging in the air between them like a ticking bomb.

“You should go get some rest,” she said instead, quietly over her shoulder. Once again, Zelda brought her hands together, closing her eyes. His hand slipped from her, and along with it, the warmth she craved. As the cold settled into her skin once more, she pressed her clasped hands to her lips.

It was hard to concentrate when she could still feel his presence directly behind her, and the heat from his body distracted her.

She waited for him to leave.

But he didn’t.

Zelda glanced back at him, her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. His head was bowed down, with lips drawn tight. She couldn’t see his eyes. Fighting against the weight of the water that dragged down her dress, she turned around to face him. “Link, did you hear me?” she asked, bringing her hand to his face.

Suddenly, his hand reached up toward her extended arm and grasped it tightly. Zelda jumped at his sudden movements, alarmed. He glared up at her, and a chill ran down her spine as their eyes locked.

She had always thought that the coolness of his eyes never resembled who he actually was, but this time, they reflected the true color of how he seemed at that moment—icy blue.

Before she could react, he was already pulling her back toward dry land.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Zelda asked, baffled and dumbfounded.

His grip never loosened, even when she was completely out of the water, dripping wet. She stared at the back of his head as he simply stood there, his hand around her arm only tightening with each breath he took. It was unlike him to be as distant as he was—and even more so that he wasn’t responding to her. She used her free hand to touch his arm, barely brushing his skin, but that simple act seemed to snap him out of his thoughts. Upon contact, he immediately let go of her, as if her touch shocked him.

“I’ll…” he trailed off, his back still toward her. He shook the hand that had held her, as if he was trying to get rid of something. “I’ll go make a fire. Stay there.”

And then he was gone before she could respond, past the stone entry way that led to the forest outside of the Spring.

Zelda glanced back at the statue that gazed down upon her with its taunting smile. She debated whether or not to dip back into the freezing waters until she noticed the light red mark on her skin, where he had grabbed her.

The cool paleness of her skin only accentuated it, leaving her numb.

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

They didn’t speak when he came back, and he wouldn’t look at her, no matter how long she stared him down. He had given her his spare clothes, a simple long sleeve tunic and loose pants, so that she wouldn’t be dripping wet for the night. When she sat down across the campfire, he held out a blanket for her, still avoiding her piercing gaze.

“Thank you,” she said, eyeing him.

He turned around.

Zelda deflated a little, frowning. She wrapped it around her shoulders tightly, snuggling in its warmth for a moment before scooting closer to the fire. As her hands gripped at the fabric, she realized it was the same blanket from the time they were on their way to Zora’s Domain, by the pattern on it. She ran her fingers against the embroidery, finding comfort in its stitches. Link began tossing some branches into the fire, and as it grew larger, Zelda could finally feel her fingers and toes. She thought he’d stop after the fifth tree branch, but he kept tossing them in at a pace that, quite frankly, concerned her.

His blue eyes reflected the warm glow of growing fire—glinting, dimming.

“Link,” Zelda whispered behind the fabric of the blanket, but he didn’t respond. “Link.” She tried again, louder this time, pulling the covers down from her nose. His name on her tongue only resulted in a twitch of his mouth. He was resting his chin on one hand as he continued to lazily toss more branches into the fire with the other. “Can you please say something?” she asked gently.

His face was blank. He was always good at doing that when he really wanted no one to know what he was thinking.

“What do you want me to say?” he muttered back. There was an edge to his voice that she’d never heard before—was it… anger?

Did she make him mad? He never got mad. At anybody. He never did. No one, not even the Champions, the only other people he’s ever opened up to, had seen him get mad.

Sure, he got annoyed, but mad?

“I just—“ Zelda paused before the panic in her voice could come out. “I just want to know what you’re thinking,” Zelda said, keeping her voice steady. He stopped moving, and his blue eyes darted to her again. The only sound between them was the crackle of the fire, which he had overfed to the point where it was unnecessarily large and overbearing.

They stared at one another—and for the first time in a long time, he looked like a stranger.

Zelda realized how spoiled she had been all those times where he laughed or frowned at her now that she saw that blank look of his. She searched his face for something—anger, annoyance, rage—but there was nothing. She would’ve preferred anything.

Anything but that slack expression.

“You want to know what I think?” He ripped his gaze from hers, and for some reason, it felt like he had pulled away from her. Zelda tightened her grasp on the blanket, willing her hands to stop shaking. He returned his attention to the fire, poking at it. The edge in his voice was still there, and she hung on to it desperately, hoping that it would keep him from drawing further away than he already was. “You really want to know?”

“You know that I always do.”

When he didn’t continue, Zelda cast her gaze to the crackling fire, trying to find a reason for his aggravation. Their visits to the Springs were as they always were. The only difference was his odd quietness throughout the majority of this particular journey... but what she did today was what she had been doing on any other trip. So what had changed? Zelda scoured her memories for any bits and pieces of clues that she could fit together. The only thing she could really conclude was that he had become much more observant of her the past months. Or maybe she had simply imagined it, because she wanted to believe that he…

Zelda shook her head, letting the thought fall out before it could complete itself. Regardless, that knowledge didn’t help her in the situation at hand, because now it seemed like he couldn’t stand to even lock eyes with her for two seconds.

“I don’t know what I’ve done to upset you. Is it because you have to accompany me? I know that these trips are taxing, and that it’s been taking—“ Zelda stopped speaking once she shifted her eyes to him.

That blank expression of his had vanished, and was replaced by frustration. The fire reflected in his eyes grew brighter the larger the flames got.

“Link, the fire...“ Zelda warned quietly, and his hand paused midway, about to throw another stick in.

“I want you to stop beating yourself up,” he started, his voice strained. His eyebrows scrunched together as he opened his mouth again, the words flowing out quicker and smoother now. Louder even. “I want to see you smile and laugh like you mean it. I don’t want to touch your skin and feel it colder than ice anymore. Every single time you come out of that water, I can see the light in your eyes fading away.” He dropped the stick into the fire and didn’t reach for anymore. There was a pause, and the air around them stilled, holding its breath.

“I’m tired of not being able to do anything,” he admitted quietly, exhaling. With it, the tension in the air released as well.

Zelda scooted closer to him. When she was able to get a better look at his face, she realized how weary he seemed, with those dark bags under his half lidded eyes. She opened up the blanket, inviting.

“I’m cold,” she said. He didn’t budge an inch. “You said you’re tired of not being able to do anything?” Zelda lifted an eyebrow. “You can keep me warm.”

His face flushed red and he turned away from her, staring down at his hands. “That’s not what I meant.”

Zelda pursed her lips, trying to find words of comfort, but her attempts were fruitless. The only thing she could provide him was something that he had been constantly giving her—honesty.

“Link, you know I need to do this.” She dropped her arm, sighing. “I can’t just… stop trying. I will bend and break if that’s what it takes to get this sacred power—it’s something I cannot avoid. Regardless of what becomes of me.”

He looked pained at her words, but they were true, and she wouldn’t hide it. She never did to begin with. She hesitated with her next words—words that she only kept floating in her own thoughts, but maybe voicing them to him would help him understand.

“But I’m glad that you and the other Champions are here with me,” she said, pausing. If she wasn’t going to voice this now, she wasn’t sure she would ever get the chance to. “It gives me strength. It helps me move forward. And you… you…” Zelda trailed off, fidgeting with a piece of fraying thread on the blanket. The fact that he existed in the world spread an unfathomable joy within her, and she felt fortunate to be alive at the same time as him. To simply be connected with such a soul as beautiful as his filled her with more strength than the sealing power would ever be able to give.

But that was too much—an honesty too raw—for her to admit. She couldn’t indulge in such… distracting truths. Not now.

At her hesitance, he looked up at her, with a mix of curiosity and longing.

Longing?

No, maybe it was she who looked upon him like that, but she couldn’t look away from him, even after the painful realization that hit her.

You love him, a little voice whispered to her. It almost sounded like a soft exhale, as if it was relieved to tell her.

“Thank you, Link. I will always be grateful for you, in all of our lifetimes. That will never change.” She offered him a slight smile—a smile to let him know that he was not alone. And she hoped it would be enough to ease his pain, even if it was only brief, for it was all she could give in that moment.

He stayed quiet, but she didn’t find discomfort in the silence this time as they both gazed at the warm fire.

As it began to die down, he tugged at her blanket, prompting her to come toward him. His blue eyes shimmered like the shallow waters of a clear sea as she drew closer, and she opened her arms once more, inviting. Months of pressure and tension peeled off of her when his skin met hers, as he laid his head in the crook of her neck. She placed her cheek against the top of his head, finding comfort in the sound of his soft breathing. Her eyes stayed focused on the flicker of the firelight.

She didn’t say anything when she felt warm water dribble onto her skin, dripping down her collarbone. Instead, she tightened the blanket wrapped around them, pulling him closer, and gently shut her eyes.

#zelink #botw #breath of the wild #link #zelda #botw fanfiction #zelink fanfiction #archived memories #my fanfics #enjoy the pining and angst!

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