#Not all brands are good enough to last your entire life

[sincerity--extreme]

Homophobic that, whenever you spend money, said money disappears from your bank account... I feel like, if I spend money on actually import things, the number there shouldn't change at all, and once a month I should have the right to get a little treat and have the same rule apply

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I WANT YOU CLOSER, CLOSER EVEN STILL ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; in the midst of a rainshower, you run into your mysterious classmate.

word count; 6.1k

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, implied no curses au, fluffy summer vibes, forced proximity (my beloved <3), pining, very shoujo manga coded, vague allusions to sugu having a troubled background, (kind of same w reader), switching povs, gojo slander, stsg implications if you squint (my brand), he’s a sweet sweet boy and i love him :((

a/n; teen sugu reminds me a lot of the kind upperclassman type of otome game li… with secret emotional baggage that makes his route really hard to complete….. anyway i dedicate this fic to hit mobage jujutsu kaisen: phantom parade PLEASE bring sugu home to me please please please ple

geto looks beautiful in the rain. 

it’s an embarrassing first thought to have, as he rounds the corner and comes into view. a black head of hair, making you stop in your tracks, breathe in a gulp of humid air.

you can’t help it, though.

it’s raining. droplets ricochet against the sidewalk in an endless cadence, the sky above you blanketed by gray clouds; enveloping your city in a summery shadow, the scent of hot concrete and blossoming hydrangeas. everything smells of a blistering summer, youth in a bottle cap. tasty on your tongue.

those very same hydrangeas surround him, on all sides, framing his figure like a painting come to life — splotches of colour, flecks of purple and pink and blue, clashing with the gray sky and the black umbrella in his hand. he looks a little disheveled, hair a little frizzy, bangs sticking to his skin. oddly at peace. when his eyes meet yours, you see a flash of recognition — a tiny spark in the amber hue. 

you take that as your cue to move closer. 

he waits for you, always so patient, smiling as you look both ways before crossing the street — shoes hitting the concrete in a steady thud, thud, thud. a splash from the puddle you step in.

you’re in a good mood. veins flooding with sugar and buzzing with joy, raindrops sticking to your skin and the plastic bag in your hand, absently humming along to a song playing through your headphones. your clothes are soaked, but you’re smiling; swinging the bag of treats as you walk. bags of chips, colourful lollipops, bottles of ramune, clinking together for every step you take. enough to last you a couple weeks. in your good mood, you ended up stocking up on your classmates’ favorites — bouncing on the balls of your feet at the thought of giving them away, seeing their satisfied little expressions.

you even got something for gojo. he’ll have to fight for it, obviously, but you look forward to seeing his face light up when he takes a bite of the soft mochi.

(you like giving them things. it’s fun. it makes you feel like a normal high school kid.)

nothing can dampen your spirits right now. the entire world smells of rain, and hydrangeas, and apple blossoms from the backyards behind you. a scent that creeps into your bloodstream, sneaks into your breath. a smile grows on your lips — blooming even brighter when you step into your classmate’s orbit.

”hey!” you chirp, raising a hand up in greeting.

”hey,” geto echoes, voice honeyed and smooth, bringing a hand up to wipe at his forehead. wet from the humid air. ”out on a walk?”

with a smile, you lift the plastic bag, grabbing his attention. clasping it tightly, with your wet fingers. ”just went to get some snacks. you?”

”i wanted to get some fresh air,” he smiles. eyeing you up and down. ”did you forget your umbrella?” 

silently, he takes in your appearance. your breathing is a tiny bit laboured, and the flimsy, oversized hoodie you’re wearing is sticking to your skin. it’s all that protects you from the steady downpour; no umbrella to be seen. you look small, tilting your head up, meeting his gaze. he feels the beginnings of a smile play at his lips. exasperated. all you do is blink, seemingly unbothered, as if you aren’t straight on the road to catching a cold. you can be a little scatterbrained. 

maybe that’s why he can’t help but dote on you.

(that’s what satoru calls it, at least. suguru thinks it’s just called being nice — not like satoru would know anything about that.)

”oh. no, i didn’t forget.” you scratch at the back of your neck. ”just didn’t know it was going to rain.”

the sudden downpour gave you no time to prepare, heavy and abrupt — clouds obscuring the glowing sun in what felt like no more than a second. like someone high above flicked the light switch of the world. all you could do was pull your hood up, try to walk under whatever apple tree you came across. it didn’t help much, though. 

you shift your weight from one foot to the other, soles weighed down with dew. sort of sheepish.

geto chuckles, raspy and soft. the sound makes your heart skip a beat. ”didn’t you see the weather report?”

”well, it… just slipped my mind, i guess.”

silently, you avert your gaze. now you remember — yaga-sensei did mention that, didn’t he? you heard him say it. but you just forgot.

geto is laughing at you, a little, from within his eyes; at least that’s the impression you get. so you continue, eager to defend your honour. 

”it’s fine, though,” you assure him, smiling brightly. a sunny grin. ”i like the rain!”

geto raises an unimpressed brow, but the expression fades away just as swiftly — giving way to something softer. ”you’re heading back to the dorms, right?” he asks, continuing once you give him a slight nod. ”then we can share.”

you blink. one moment passes, then two. but geto only smiles, shifting his umbrella a little, hoping you’ll get the hint. silently beckoning you over. 

it makes you feel oddly flustered.

in truth, you and him aren’t particularly close. he’s nice to you, sure, but geto is nice to everyone. you’d like to call him a friend, but what do you actually know about him? not much. 

suguru geto is a bit of an enigma. a little mysterious. he’s polite, well-mannered, and he seems like the most normal of your classmates — but the bar is in hell, because you know for a fact geto isn’t normal either. no normal guy deliberately chooses to keep his bangs like that. 

there’s a gap, there. a kind of inconsistency. he’s hard to approach, but he puts you at ease. pulls you in and scares you off. with a soft voice and kind smile, keen eyes and a heavy palm on your head. sometimes he brings you snacks when you study in the library, or helps you with homework. kind of like a dependable senpai. someone to lean on.

… but then there’s that gap. 

the real geto, who you’ve only seen glimpses of, only ever in gojo’s vicinity, is boyish and bright — he laughs and pouts and takes up space. he glows brighter than the sun. but the geto you’re seeing, right now, is more like the moon. wearing a polite, patient smile. standing up straight.

waiting for you to join him under his umbrella.

(he’s kind. but is he doing it because wants to, or because he feels obliged to?)

”… oh.” a pause. ”no, it’s fine!” you take a step back, quick to reassure him. ”i can walk there without it! i’m already soaked, anyway.”

geto observes you. for a moment, something in his expression flickers; a crease between his brows.

then he shakes his head. still wearing a comforting smile, the same one he always slips on when he’s around you. ”still. we don’t want you catching a cold,” he persists, sounding something like a nagging mother. ”you’ll miss the exam next week.”

and with that, your shoulders drop. 

right — the exam. the one you haven’t been studying for in the slightest, completely distracted by the feeling of summer in the air. the one you can’t fail, under any circumstances, because yaga-sensei can and will force you to take summer classes ad compensation. that exam. 

a wistful sigh leaves your lips. ”god, i wish.”

geto chuckles — a little deeper than usual. it makes your heart flutter. then he’s beckoning you over, again, with a slight shake of his head. 

”c’mon. there’s enough room for two.”

he gives you that same familiar smile, and you’re forced to admit that you might be slightly weak to it. something about the way his lips tug upwards, the light crinkle of his eyes. a certain glint in them that tells you he’s not budging on the issue. 

you’re still a little hesitant. but…

(this is a chance, isn’t it? a chance to bridge that gap between you.)

silently, shyly, you join him under his umbrella. shielding you from the still falling rain.

pitter patter, pitter patter. you don’t know where the rain ends and your own heartbeat begins. he’s so close — your shoulders nearly brushing together. it makes your nerves bubble up, in rhythm with the droplets bouncing off the cover up above. you feel stiff. the tiny, miniscule gap between you feels like a sweltering stove, radiating a heat that warns you to stay away. as if his touch could burn you. like this, you can even smell him; fresh laundry, an earthy cologne. the slightest hint of caffeine and tobacco. you blame it on shoko — the whole dormitory smells of cigarettes, thanks to her. 

it’s comforting, though. his scent. blending together with the aroma of rain, wet earth, blooming flowers. with his fragrance smoothing over all your senses, the closeness between you a constant reminder of the situation you’re in, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. 

all you do is murmur out a quick thanks, as you begin to walk, in tandem.

geto can’t help but steal a glance at you, out of the corner of his eye. you look a little meek, a little flustered. he hopes the narrow distance between you isn’t making you feel too uncomfortable. 

just to be sure, he angles his body away from yours. ever so slightly, one subtle step away, to make the gap a little wider. then, as discreetly as he can manage, he tilts the umbrella in your direction — not wanting the never-ending drops of rain to graze your skin. he can feel them, now, soaking through the material of his shirt, hitting his shoulder. but he doesn’t mind. to his relief, you don’t seem to notice. he’s pretty sure you’d protest; and as enjoyable as another friendly squabble would be, he’d prefer to avoid it for now.

you’re nice. accommodating, he thinks, in a subtle kind of way. always showing up with trinkets after your little outings, offering to get everyone a drink on your way to the vending machines. you’re friendly with the other two; always nagging at shoko to stop smoking, even when she just rolls her eyes and calls you a goody two shoes. recently, you’ve even started to be patient with satoru, even when he tries to get a rise out of you. it wasn’t like that at the start of the year. geto wonders what changed. 

he’s a little interested in you. just a little. you’re sweeter than the other two, easier to worry over. he saw you trip over your own shoelaces last week. you’re a little clumsy, a bit of a ditz — airheaded. maybe that’s why he can’t help but feel protective of you. satoru brushes everything off with a cheeky grin, and shoko is self-sustaining, but you’re often in need of a helping hand. the last time he tried that with the other two, they wouldn’t stop calling him mother geto until he smacked them over the head with satoru’s shounen jump issue. 

it makes him feel out of place — when he doesn’t have anything to tend to. itchy, a feeling of dread crawling up his throat. peace and quiet feels suffocating, when he isn’t in total control over it.

so, in his own way, small as it may be, geto enjoys taking care of you. grabbing you a carton of strawberry milk, or warding satoru away when he’s annoying you a little too much. he likes the smile you grace him with when he does. it’s pretty. and it’s all geto really knows about you — that, and that there’s a tenderness to you that’s hard to fake. it’s not much to go on.

so this is the perfect opportunity to learn more. 

(a heartfelt connection. something he’s always, always craved. something that maybe he can finally have, with satoru, and shoko, and you — 

if you’re willing, that is.)

”hey,” he starts, breaking the rainfilled silence. keeping his umbrella steady, leading you both away from a big puddle in the middle of the sidewalk. ”can i ask you something?”

you raise your head to look at him. blinking owlishly, at the sudden question, nerves beginning to rise again. he sounds kind of serious. did you do something? paranoia gnaws anxiously at the ridges of your ribs, but all you can do is swallow empty air and stammer out a meek reply.

”… uh, sure!”

geto glances over at you, his eyes meeting yours. that gaze of his is kind of heavy — the deep colour of his eyes coaxing you closer, luring you in. honey and amber, splotches of cedar and flecks of gold.

they’re pretty.

”this might be kind of a weird question,” he begins, reaching a hand up to adjust his bun, sneaking a finger under the black hair tie. voice light; to put you at ease. ”but i’m just curious.” 

he looks ahead, at the street before you, only meeting your stare once you give him a slight tilt of your head. then he parts his lips.

”why did you come here?”

you blink. 

silently, confusion painting the interior of your iris, you stare at him. waiting for a clarification that doesn’t come, before giving him a hesitant answer. ”… to get snacks?”

geto has the audacity to laugh, after such a vague question. the sound is light and breathy, melting together with the pitter patter of the rain, and for some reason it strikes you as sincere. ”not like that,” he grins. ”i mean, why did you come to the school in the first place?”

ah. 

that’s a different question. harder to answer. he must notice your hesitance, the puzzlement in your features, because he’s quick to elaborate. hiding a smile behind his fist, disguised as a cough.

(you’re sort of cute when you’re confused.)

”i mean — it’s an odd choice, isn’t it? far off the map, barely any students....” you nod along, and he continues. ”i don’t know about your background. but moving away from home must be kind of tough, right?” when he glances in your direction, you notice a sparkle of genuine curiosity in his eyes. ”so i was curious about your reason. if you feel comfortable telling me, i mean.”

a hum. it buzzes in your throat, absentminded, as you stare into space. brows furrowed. 

geto gives you time, as much time as you need, always willing to wait. for a minute or so, the only sounds that fill the space around you are the pitter patter of raindrops hitting the plastic cover of umbrella, and the sound of your shoes meeting puddles on the street. silently, you ponder the question. thinking of your answer.

geto has a point. you’ve been curious, too — about how your classmates ended up in such an eccentric little school, so detached from the rest of the world. a quirky private school in the middle of nowhere. you must all be a little eccentric yourselves. that’s probably why you feel so safe with them — you get the sense that you’re all lacking something. something that would ward normal kids away from such an unorthodox choice.

you could say you were just going with the flow. a relative of yours used to work with yaga-sensei, and heard about his position at a newly reinstated private school — heard that he was looking for students to fill the roster. 

so you accepted.

(if it was really that simple, geto would already have his answer.)

what drew you in, more than anything, was the promise of something new. a strange, small school, far away from home; from the people you know, the town you know, the life that you’ve lived. far away from the person you are, the person you was, the person you’ve always been.

an escape. that’s all it was. 

a way out.

he’s still waiting for your answer, even now, trying to read your thoughts off your face. eyes trailing over every contour. very briefly, you consider dodging the question — but his silent, steady presence squeezes a little honesty out of you. 

you want to give him a genuine answer.

”… i guess,” you begin, weighing the words on your tongue. they feel stale, a little awkward, but not dishonest. ”i wanted to stop being me for a bit.” 

the words are unexpected, surprising even to your own ears — like your mouth and your mind weren’t quite cooperating, one ahead of the other, one not weighing in on the honest choice. they catch geto off guard. 

he looks at you, silently, attempts to dissect your expression; but he doesn’t succeed. 

for a second, something flashes in his eyes. a glimmer that you just barely catch, that you can still sense behind his eyelids when they flutter shut. you’re not sure what to call it. recognition, maybe, or something like empathy. a sense of acknowledgement. it’s gone when he opens his eyes. 

he doesn’t look at you when he answers.

”… i get that.”

there’s a depth to his words that you’re afraid to uncover. you feel their weight, all the same, glancing up at him, studying his expression, the humid drops of dew that stick to his lashes. and you feel a tug. faint, non-existent, the string between your pinkies —

a growing connection. 

(it makes you feel oddly bare.)

all you can give him is a chuckle, a little breathless. ”do you?” you ask, grinning weakly. ”it’s a little melodramatic.”

geto only smiles. silent, comfort personified. there’s no judgement in his eyes, none whatsoever — because he knows exactly what you mean.

fleeing from the past. 

it’s a kind of murder, he thinks. a rebirth.

maybe the two of you are similar. similar in the sense that he recognizes the shadow in your eyes, the one he sometimes sees in mirrors; familiar in the sense that you both suffer from that same sickening awareness. 

(maybe you want the same thing he wants, what he’s always wanted — 

control.)

it’s a realization that creeps up on you, the both of you, slow and steady. a sense of kinship. it envelops you, cradles you close, in the same way molten clouds cover the summer sky.

geto isn’t lying, you can tell. he does get it. you know, just from that tilt of his voice, the way his eyelashes flutter, his absent shifting from one foot to another. and it soothes your worries.

everything is silent, for a bit. you look down at the asphalt, at your own reflection in a puddle, and geto gazes at the bushes of hydrangeas to his right. you feel safe, right next to him, under his umbrella. and he feels content to have you there. your shoulders brush together, for a moment, and it sends a jolt through your heartbeat.

geto inhales a breath.

”by the way —” 

”— have you studied for the exam?”

you both still. blurting out the words at the same time, turning to look at each other; sheepishly blinking in the other’s direction.

then he barks out a laugh.

”sorry,” he hums, a sleek smile on his lips. bright and sheepish. ”what was that? the exam?”

”ah — yeah,” you feel heat settle on the back of your neck, crawling up your ears. ”have you, um, studied for it at all?”

geto moves the umbrella from one arm to the other, smoothly directing you to stand on his right instead of his left. guiding you with his hand on your lower back, ghosting the fabric of your clothing. he stretches his free arm, a little stiff.

”yeah,” he exhales. ”not a lot, though.”

”really?” you blink up at him, trying not to blush at how easily he maneuvered you. stupid, stupid heartbeat. ”you strike me as the honour student type…”

geto scoffs. it leaves his lips before he can tug it back. ”satoru said the same thing.”

a breath spills from your lips, almost a chuckle. you’re not sure how to feel about being compared to gojo, of all people, but you’ll let it slide this once. ”well, you just kinda have that vibe.”

now he’s huffing, tethering on the edge of something childish, and your smile grows. you’re seeing him make a lot of new expressions today. 

”why, though?” comes a sigh. he must be playing it up, a little — you almost get fooled into thinking he’s pouting. ”is it the hair? i don’t even wear glasses anymore...”

”well —” you pause. ”hold on, you used to wear glasses?”

all you get is an absent hum. he doesn’t notice your wide, shellshocked eyes. ”when i was younger. i got rid of them a couple years back.”

“oh…” you try to imagine it, for a second. he’d look frighteningly good in them. just barely, you manage to keep yourself from saying it out loud. ”i think it’s more just your general personality. like, you’re responsible and polite… or something.”

and geto chuckles; the intersection between a teasing smile and a soft grin. it’s just a little bit ethereal, painted over with the humid summer air. he turns towards you.

”and that makes me an honour student?” 

”… okay, maybe not.” you bring a hand up to your hair, fixing it absently. deflating a little. ”you just strike me as intelligent, i guess.”

geto smiles, again, as always. the chuckle that escapes him is faint and fond, and awfully soft, dripping down his lips. ”well, thank you.” 

his eyes are warm, burning into yours. all you can do is glance away. you still don’t really understand this sensation — why he’s suddenly so easy to talk to. why he feels like something other than just a classmate, when he looks at you like that. 

then again, geto has always been a natural at putting people at ease. maybe that’s why you can’t help but warm up to him, compliantly, the way a child dutifully follows the first butterfly they ever see — it’s a little too pretty to resist. 

you want to slip deeper into his world, you realize. you don’t want this moment to end so soon.

”you guys really get along, huh?” you change the subject, speaking slowly, savouring every syllable. there isn’t any rush to get the words out all at once, when you’re with him. 

geto blinks, tilting his head. 

”hm?”

“you and gojo, i mean.”

a glimmer passes through his eyes, as your query sinks in. ”ah. yeah.” his gaze strays upwards, and a contemplative look settles into his face. he knows what you’re after, what you’re really asking; why are the two of you so close? why do you put up with his antics? 

what do you see in him? 

he thinks it’s a fair question. it’s not like he hasn’t asked himself the very same thing, before — satoru can be annoying. ignorant, too, and terribly rude. a little prick. when he stole his curry bun yesterday, geto wanted to kill him. spoiled little brat.

(then again, he’s…)

”he’s… well.” geto exhales, a little breathless. tasting the words on his tongue. ”you know how he is — but he’s not a bad guy.” 

and it’s true. he really isn’t. satoru is a lot of things; rude and spoiled, cocky and bratty, an expert at ticking everyone off. but there’s a kind of charm, there. an innocence that geto admires. 

satoru is childish — because he is a child. a child who knows a lot of things that children shouldn’t know. a child who doesn’t know the most basic of things. satoru doesn’t know how to make friends. he doesn’t know how to ask for help, doesn’t know how to give it. he doesn’t know what cotton candy tastes like, because he’s never tried it before. 

his childhood couldn't have been very warm. it definitely wasn’t normal. 

is that why he puts up with him, then? out of pity? of course not. the bare thought of it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. he’d never look down on satoru, like that — and he knows he’d hate him for it. if anything, geto thinks that maybe the two of them are close because he doesn’t give him any special treatment. even if satoru wasn’t treated with warmth or love, he was certainly coddled. spoiled. it’s evident, in the way that he acts.

but satoru isn’t a god, and he shouldn’t act like one. 

one punch, right across the face; knocking the white-haired boy off his feet. that’s where their friendship began. there were stars in satoru’s eyes, geto thinks, when he looked up at him from the ground. sunglasses fallen off from the impact, blue eyes entirely on display, catching the light of the sun — gleaming with a certain bewilderment. almost amazement. like he didn’t know he could be hit, didn’t know it was possible. the sun shone down on him, illuminating the vague bruising on his cheek, and geto wondered if that was the first punch the boy had ever taken.

it certainly wasn’t a first for him, when satoru lunged at him next —

it was a little juvenile. more than a little deranged. geto isn’t one to throw fists, in the first place — he’s out of practice. the punch he fed satoru might’ve been a little too forceful. he couldn’t help but feel bad, every so slightly, for putting a bruise on that irritatingly pretty face of his. 

but it still ended with satoru’s arm around his shoulder, a buzzing voice by his ear, proclaiming them as friends. cheery and bright.

geto couldn’t help but echo the statement.

(satoru is a lot of things. 

most of all, he’s really hard to hate.)

geto’s answer brings a smile to your face. ”yeah,” you hum, soft voice breaking him out of his reverie. ”he isn’t.”

he looks at you. silently, a question of his own brewing in his irises — and with you so close, close enough to touch, smiling at him like he’s an old friend… geto can’t help but indulge in his own curiosity. 

he tries to appear nonchalant, stealing a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. ”seems like the two of you are getting along better, too.” 

”me and gojo?” you blink, surprised. a little flustered. huffing out an amused breath, trying to brush off the bare thought. ”no way.”

geto laughs — it’s a deep sound, a full one. somehow very earnest. you wonder if that’s how his laugh always sounds, whenever gojo’s involved. ”oh, come on. you don’t hate him that much.” a teasing glint blooms in his eyes, as he scrutinizes you. ”or am i wrong?”

you pause. faltering, a little, gaze falling down to the pavement — then to the sky — then to him. and then back to the pavement. 

”… i mean…” you attempt to squeeze the words out from within your chest, but you can’t help but feel hesitant. as if gojo could jump out of the bushes at any moment, ready to tease you if you say anything that paints him in an even moderately decent light. ”i don’t… hate him. but he’s still annoying.” a pout slips onto your lips. “he has it out for me, you know.”

geto laughs, again. you note that you’re fond of the sound. ”isn’t that because he likes you, though? he just doesn’t know how to show it. it’s like pulling pigtails.”

”don’t even joke about that,” you scoff, shooting him a scowl. “and that wouldn’t make it any better, even if it was true.”

a fond smile. ”yeah, you’re right.” he opts to dial down on the teasing, shifting into a more sincere tone. ”you do seem more friendly now, though. before it felt like you really hated his guts.”

a hum buzzes in your throat. brows furrowing, as you mull on what to answer with. unsure how you really feel. it’s not like you’re suddenly super close, or anything — but you have gotten friendlier. just by a smidge, but still. you’ve gotten better at putting up with him and his antics, at finding comfort in how open he can be.

after a tiny pause, you speak up. 

”… i still don’t really understand him.” you gnaw at the skin of your bottom lip, trapping it between your teeth. “but i think i might be starting to.” 

you’re a little embarrassed over the words that fall from your lips, barely above a whisper. 

”… he’s not the worst.”

geto smiles, but you don’t see it — gaze still lingering on the droplets that bounce off the pavement. ”i’m glad,” he hums, earnest. ”that guy needs more friends.”

something about his tone of voice urges you to look at him. that smile of his is bright, gleaming in the rain, in the midst of the flowers all around you. a little teasing, a little boyish, but somehow very sincere. you didn’t think you’d get to see it up close.

and you can’t help but chuckle. the raven-haired boy glances over at you, confusion in his eyes.

noticing it, you breathe out a quiet chuckle. ”sorry, it’s just —” a teasing grin smooths over your lips. ”you guys bicker a lot, and you act like he annoys you… but you really care for him, don’t you?”

this time, geto almost stops in his tracks. his eyes widen, slightly, and you’re not sure why he seems surprised — when he always sounds so fond saying satoru’s name, talking about him like they understand each other fully. maybe he didn’t notice it until now. 

a moment passes, before he collects himself, clearing his throat and averting his gaze. awfully good at keeping his composure. 

(though he fails to fully conceal the flustered look on his face.)

”i wouldn’t go that far,” he mumbles, but it only makes you chuckle again. his lips curl up slightly, at the sound; despite his embarrassment. ”someone’s gotta look out for that idiot.”

”right. of course.”

geto gives you a displeased little look. you bite back a laugh. feeling at ease, by his side — you get the sense that you can trust him, that you could tell him absolutely anything, and he still wouldn't use it against you. it’s a relief.

standing there, under geto’s umbrella, in the shadow of summer, rain obscuring the world — you reach a definitive conclusion.

you want to get to know him. want to see inside his heart, hear more of his thoughts. if you could only step over that gap between you, wriggle your way into his world — 

you think you’d be happy.

so, as you walk side by side, narrowly avoiding puddles and breathing in the humid summer air, you try to coax them out of him. little thoughts, bits and pieces of the suguru geto you yearn to meet.

(unbeknownst to you, he’s doing the same.)

you continue to talk. about miniscule things, meaningless things, a comfortable sensation of trust simmering in the air between you. and before you know it, you’ve stepped onto the school grounds, stopping right in front of the dormitory.

”here we are,” geto hums, folding the umbrella and tucking it between his arm and torso. you turn to look him in the eye, taking an absent step away.

”thanks, geto,” you can’t help but smile. ”for letting me walk with you.”

”don’t mention it.” he brushes you off with ease, quick to drag the door open; waiting for you to step inside before following suit. always so accommodating. 

for a second, he hesitates. a glimmer of uncertainty, in his eyes, that you miss — stretching out your tired limbs with a shallow groan, enjoying the warm and dry air on your skin. 

finally, geto takes the leap.

when he parts his lips, his voice comes out soothing. natural and breathy, floral patterns blooming on his tongue; as silky as jasmine petals. ”you can call me suguru, you know.” he lets the silence linger, for a moment. ”if you want to.”

you turn to look at him, eyes widening, at the sudden offer, and he can’t get a good read on the emotion reflected in them. you seem caught off guard, but he can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing.

after a moment or two, you fumble for a response. 

”oh. um — okay? i will, then.” you shake your head, as if brushing off the hesitance you feel, mustering the courage to imitate his offer. ”in that case, you can call me by my first name, too.” 

a brief pause. 

”… if you want to.”

geto smiles. it’s laced with relief, hard to notice, impossible to miss. instead of answering with an affirmation, he takes a more teasing approach — unable to resist the temptation.

so he says your name. your first name, dragging the syllables out on his tongue, as if tasting it. trying to get used to the way the letters bend as they come out of his mouth. despite the teasing lilt it carries, the sound is oddly earnest; he pronounces it clearly, like he’s trying to call you to his side. you almost feel compelled to take a step towards him. 

geto looks you in the eye, as he calls you by your given name, for the very first time — and you can’t help but grow flustered.

”… suguru,” you echo, for whatever reason. you think your brain may be slightly fried. but it feels right, to say it. suguru. 

(what a pretty name.)

suguru smiles at you. you think it’s just a little wider than usual, a little more sincere. almost giddy, if you squint. in the open air, the intimate atmosphere simmers.

finally, you clear your throat, glancing in the direction of your dorm room. a silent que for him to follow.

and he does. leaving the umbrella by the hall, before walking you to your door. his steady, soothing presence sticking to your skin. you’re just about to place your fingers on the doorknob, when a pang of realization hits you — stopping you in your tracks.

”oh — right!”

swiftly, you turn on your heel, facing suguru again. he gazes down at you, bemusement in his eyes. watching as you rummage through the plastic bag hanging off your arm. finally, you find what you were looking for; holding it out towards him. 

”here,” you give him a warm smile. ”as thanks.”

suguru accepts it, compliantly, allowing you to slip a pack of gum into his palm. he recognizes the brand, one he favours over others. it helps him, on days he can’t find his appetite. 

did you see him chewing it at some point, he wonders? when, though? 

maybe you’re always paying attention to the people around you. the way they like their coffee, their favoured flavour of gum. it may be a small kindness, an absentminded one, but suguru thinks that makes it all the more meaningful. a kindness that seeps out of you, that draws him in. 

he wants to know more, about you. he really does.

but for now, this is enough. a walk back to your dorm, your shared home, talking and growing closer than before. 

it’s a small step, but in the right direction. 

the pack of gum stirs a mellow, tender feeling in his chest. all he can do is give you a smile, and a thank you that you’re quick to brush off. then you say your goodbyes, and you close the door behind you — flopping down on your bed with a muffled squeal. a giddy kind of excitement swimming in your veins. because finally, finally, you feel like the gap between you has been dented.

you know what his real laugh sounds like. that the tips of his ears turn pink when he’s embarrassed. you know that he used to wear glasses, that you’re a little more similar than either of you could have assumed.

you know that you’re fond of him. fond of a boy with black hair, who smells of summer and rain and chewing gum. fond of a boy you’ve only scratched the surface of.

on the other side of the door, suguru walks back to his room. with a pep in his step, one that satoru notices — because of course he does — appearing from around the corner with a shit-eating grin.

“oh? what were you doing over there, suguru?”

suguru ignores him. popping a piece of the gum you gave him into his mouth, a flavour of apricot melting on his tongue — he sinks his teeth into it, slowly, feeling his lips curl up into a smile.

it tastes of summer and youth. a memory that both of you will savour, for many years to come.

[deadsetobsessions]

Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Pt. 4

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3]

Danny blinked down at the cart, where a red hoodie and pants with red stripes along the side laid over the lip of the cart. Considering they’re in this universe’s brand of Marget- seriously, who names a store Target? If anything in Amity Park was named that, Skulker would have wrecked it in five seconds flat- it’s hilariously on brand. Though, to be fair, this was Gotham’s version too, which meant a lot of security guards (who definitely doubled as goons for the Rogues, Danny was sure) and the vibes were spooky.

“I’m guessing red’s your favorite color.”

Instead of the humorous way he meant the sentence, Jason looked up anxiously and Danny immediately hated himself a little bit more.

“Sh- I can put it back..?” Jason hunched in on himself.

Danny tracked the movement with clearer eyes than he’s had in a long while and ancients, does it remind him of how Dani was in front of Vlad all those years ago. And Danny has spent his entire half life being not like Vlad, so he’s not going to start now.

“Nah, you should definitely add some more stuff. This is no where near enough clothes.”

It really wasn’t. Danny had taken Jason to the store to pick out clothes- “Ther’s a second hand store down the stree’, ya know,” Jason had mumbled when they went through the doors- but the kid had only tentatively put in a small red hoodie and some pants in the cart. Now he had to put this in a way that’ll wipe the stubbornly hesitant look on Jason’s face off.

“Think about it this way, then. You’re repping me now, and while I might be the alley drunk, I’m not the poorly dressed alley drunk, yeah?”

“Oh. Tha’ makes sense.” Jason nodded to himself determinedly, and the kid strode over to the t-shirt section. For all of his confidence, he still glanced back to see if it was okay with Danny.

Well, Dani was the same way before she found her confidence (when she knew Danny wouldn’t abandon her or hurt her) so Danny just gave him a thumbs up before reaching into the rack and sweeping an armful of clothing straight into the cart. Then, he strode over to the jackets and grabbed the ones in Jason’s size and slightly bigger. Oh, he has to grab shoes. He’ll leave that for later, but Danny was going to get those ratty trainers off of Jason’s feet and into the nearest trash can if it was the last thing he does.

The halfa hummed, pausing at the first decidedly not miserable sound he’s made in a while. Dammit, if that wasn’t a sign of Danny’s attachment to Jason, he doesn’t know what would be. To be fair… Danny already committed murder for the kid, which was pretty much something he thought he’d never do, so in for a penny out for a pound or whatever.

He put a significant amount of the budget aside for the section labeled “JASON” so Danny shopped without a worry. Charlie’s ill-gotten assets were a good monetary compensation for his crime of existing near Jason or existing, period.

He picked up toiletries, toothbrushes and the like, when Jason came back sans t-shirt. Instead of a shirt- Danny had actually hoped that Jason would try to get multiple shirts- Jason was clutching a book.

Before he could even voice anything, Danny plucked the book out of his grip and put it into the cart with a disarming smile.

“Oh, good idea. We should get you books too. Wanna go pick out some more?”

“Uh- y’re just gonna get a book, just like that?”

“More than one book, I should hope. You are going to school, right?”

“…Yeah!” Danny couldn’t fathom ever being excited at the thought of school, but as Jason bounced away to peruse the admittedly poor selection of books, Danny couldn’t help but think that maybe he should give this education thing another try. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be less stressful now that he’s not Phantom.

Danny walked to the aisle next to the books and promptly proceeded to shove every single piece of stationary he thought was nice- pens, gel pens, cooling pens and pencils, a thick stack of notebooks, flash cards, etcetera- into the rapidly getting full cart.

Jason came back with three more books- nice, the classics- and froze at the sight of the cart.

“Oh, hey. Getting all of those?”

“Wha’- wha’s wit’ the stuff?”

“School supplies! Quality education starts with quality supplies, you know!” Danny said, a sliver of the grin that used to come so easily to him making an appearance on his face. "Don't worry, I budgeted. See?"

Danny handed Jason a piece of paper, confident that the kid would know if it was good or not.

"Where'd... ya get all of this?"

"Hmm... here and there."

Jason looked up at him, squinting suspiciously. "I hear' Charlie's gone poofed up."

Danny shrugged and put a calculator in the cart. "Oh, I'm sure he's busy."

Yeah, Danny thought vindictively. Busy being dead.

"Ya sound like a walking con," Jason said as he visibly decided to give up fighting against Danny's spending. "We nee' food."

"Gotcha. Well, if you need anything else, just bring it into the cart."

"I want veggies. Frozen, 's cheaper."

Danny nodded, resisting the urge to ruffle Jason's hair.

----

"Hey, you's the Alley Drunk, right? 'Bout that boy you've been toting ar-"

Danny punched the guy in the face, dropping him like a stone. He looked up slowly and swayed.

"Any of you ask about my kid brother again, and I won't bother with being drunk when I hit you."

Rapid nods. Danny shuffled away, satisfied.

----

Two weeks later, after a school day, Danny finds Jason heading to the bathroom with a box of...

"Hair-dye?"

Jason, who was marginally more relaxed and assured that Danny wasn't going to kick him out, nodded.

"Dye's fadin' n' I dun wanna get nabbed on the streets for having red hair."

Danny blinked. "You have red hair?"

"Sure do. See? Roots are showin' again." Jason pointed at his scalp where Danny could see the hair was getting lighter.

"Right. Well- I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need help, kiddo." Danny said, desperately hoping he hid how off kilter he was feeling well.

"I don't need help, ah've been doing this for ages." The kid went into the bathroom and closed the door harshly. When the lock clicked and the faucet began running, Danny let himself slide down the wall into a crouch, hands cradling his head.

Red hair. Blue eyes. Tan skin. The facial features. The intelligence and empathy.

Danny chuckled hysterically under his breath.

Was Jason this universe's version of Jazz?

"Fuck."

[anashins]

Snow in London

Pairing: idol!Jaehyun x escort!reader

Genre: fluff, romance, smut

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: Jaehyun has to spend Christmas alone in London and figures that with money, you can buy anything - even company to make him feel less alone.

A/N: Merry Christmas guys - this is my gift for you! Have happy holidays and enjoy! (You might get confused as the story unfolds, but keep reading, it will all make sense, trust me)

A bottle of wine and an escort.

If two weeks ago someone had told Jaehyun that this was how he was going to spend this year’s Christmas, he would have called that person a fool. Usually, he spent it among his family, friends and members, and everyone knew. Very cozy and comfortable, only with the people closest to him.

Now, Jaehyun himself was the person who looked like a fool. 

It was Christmas Eve and he was sitting in a hotel room on the other side of the world - London, to be exact - far away from all the people dear to him. If only he hadn’t accepted this campaign shoot for this certain luxury brand, he would be home by now, fast asleep after having enjoyed good food with his family.

But fate had other things in store for him when it was announced this morning that all domestic and international flights were canceled due to the heavy snowstorm that would last a couple of days. Jaehyun knew it was his responsibility as a global ambassador, but he had really begged to not accept this job in case something like this would happen. It didn’t usually snow in the UK, so his team had just shrugged his concerns off.

But somehow, he had sensed it, and now he was locked up here with nowhere else to go.

When Jaehyun looked out of the window, he saw white everywhere with not a single vehicle passing by in the streets, and the snow wouldn’t stop falling. He doubted he could take a flight tomorrow or the day after that. Or the day after that even. It was frustrating. 

With a ‘thud’, he let himself fall back onto the bed. At least he was in a high class hotel close to Hyde Park and the staff had invited him to go to the bar with them, but Jaehyun wasn’t in the mood for company now. Well, at least not the company of so many people he didn’t know well enough. 

Why an escort then? 

Jaehyun didn’t want to spend Christmas Eve entirely alone, but he also didn’t want the commitment of having the person around until the next morning with the obligation of getting something physical out of it. He would rather leave it open. Or even worse, he didn’t want to take the flight back with that person and work together again depending on how this night would end. So that was why the staff was ruled out and the hotel employees as well just because they were short handed during the holidays.

Jaehyun just didn’t want to be alone on Christmas Eve and he had the money for it.

The fact that he had indeed never done something like this before was mirrored in how his heart jumped the moment he heard a knock on the door. Luckily, it was just room service bringing the wine he had ordered shortly before, leaving him all alone again with a simple “Merry Christmas”. 

If this Christmas Eve was going to turn merry for Jaehyun, he also didn’t know yet.

The second time he heard a knock, he opened the door even more nervous to find you standing in front of him whose picture he had only briefly seen on the website this morning.

The first thing he noticed about you was how much prettier you were in real life. If he were being honest, you didn’t look like your photos at all as in fact, he found you more beautiful in person and with your bright aura, his nervousness directly dropped a bit. 

Perhaps, he had also not looked at the photos properly, because he wanted to leave it open whether there would be intimate contact at all, and there were not many working today. In the end, he preferred any company over none at all and this was a time where he couldn’t be picky much since he also didn’t want to reduce a person to their outward appearance only and wanted to talk to them too.

So Jaehyun was pleasantly surprised to see you, a pretty, young woman with a nice energy, standing in front of him. 

The second thing he noticed was that you must be cold, because despite your body being covered in a thick black puffer jacket and a pair of black pants that ended in boots, there were remnants of snow everywhere on your body, and since the flakes were melting by room temperature, it looked like you had just run through the rain with your face uncovered also.

For a special day with special services, if Jaehyun were to be blunt, you were dressed and styled quite ordinary - which he didn’t mind at all though since you were only going to stay in the room anyway, he had dropped the fact beforehand! He just couldn’t help but to notice the great difference in the sexy clothings and heavy makeup you had worn on your online pis and the way you were styled now. 

But he’d rather have you warm and cozy than sexy during such a weather, he wasn’t one to pay much attention to outer clothing anyway when most of the time he was wearing lounge pants himself. Actually Jaehyun felt really relieved since he also hadn’t dressed up much for this occasion, wearing his slacks and black shirt at most. 

“Good evening. It’s cold outside, come in.”

Jaehyun opened the door widely, and the third thing he noticed about you was how good you smelled when you walked past him with a light,

“Good evening. Thank you.”

You opened your jacket and Jaehyun, like the gentleman he was, helped you get out of it and hung it up on the wardrobe. When he turned back around, he observed you standing in the room, wrapping your arms around yourself and trembling with your light clothes since your upper body was only covered in a blouse.

“Didn’t you use the shuttle I ordered?” he asked.

“You ordered a shuttle for me? Oh…” You shook your head. “I used the subway and walked all the way from Oxford Circus to here.”

That was why you looked like you had walked through the snowstorm - because you literally did. “I paid for a shuttle service straight to the hotel too, no?” Jaehyun was sure this had been listed on the bill as an extra service for which he had already paid.

“I didn’t get the notice, she didn’t tell me. Only the hotel, floor and room number. There are no cars or services running, so….”

Suddenly, Jaehyun felt bad. He assumed ‘she’ was the operator in the company, something like a manager. “Take off your clothes.” 

“What?”

He was confused that you had turned confused, so you were looking at each other, equally puzzled. “I want to hang them up, so you don’t have to walk around with wet clothes and risk getting a cold. And I want you to take a shower please, to warm yourself up.” 

You blinked a few times, but then replied, “Oh! No, I was only taken aback a bit…”

“Don’t worry.” Jaehyun finally realized what had run through your head. “I’m not like that.”

Even though you only nodded as a reply, he clearly saw how relieved you were, and he started questioning whether you knew what you were actually here for as you appeared a bit insecure about this entire situation. Even though it might not happen right away or at all, the job description was very clear and you weren’t a newbie if he had to believe the website. But Jaehyun shrugged it off as this was a special circumstance and day you might not get into often as well.

Jaehyun then sent you to the bathroom with information on where to find the towels and a bathrobe. He just couldn’t live with the thought of having a woman come over despite the weather and dealing with the consequences.

Rummaging through his luggage, he found a simple white long sleeve and checkered lounge pants that must be way too big for you, but he figured it was better than leaving you in a bathrobe or making you wear your own clothes again before they had fully dried.

When you walked out of the bathroom approximately half an hour later, with semi-dried hair, a bathrobe way too big for you and wearing no makeup at all anymore, the fourth thing Jaehyun noticed about you was that you were an ordinary young woman who he could have also met on the streets or in a club, not someone he paid to spend a few hours with.

And if he were to say it out loud, he wouldn’t want you to misunderstand this. There was no negative connotation with this thought, especially not in regard to your job which services he was making use of himself. It just dawned on him that you were two ordinary people in private, alone on Christmas Eve. 

In the end, when it came down to loneliness, you were both the same.

“You’re so kind to me,” you stated when Jaehyun handed you his clothes.

“I figured someone who has to work on Christmas Eve deserves more kindness than usual.”

“It was okay,” you simply stated and returned to the bathroom while it echoed, “There weren’t too many rude customers today, thank god.”

Jaehyun tilted his head in question over this cryptic statement. Had you just used plural? Oh my, how many customers did you take in a day? Was Christmas Eve really that busy? But then he decided to brush it off. It was none of his business anyway, although it remained in the back of his head, itching him a bit. 

While he walked over to the table where he had also already prepared two glasses and opened the wine, you left the bathroom again, now fully dressed in his clothes.

Jaehyun attempted really hard not to look up and to stare, so he tried to catch a glimpse or two from the corner of his eyes while filling the wine glasses. Under any other circumstances, this would have been an awkward first date, and even though it wasn’t since he paid for your company, pretending to have it be one made it a little bit easier for him, he had to admit.

“Wine?” he offered, and he perceived in the way the look in your eyes changed that you very much welcomed this ice breaker.

“Thank you.”

Alcohol was not only very popular for making your tongue loose, which was why, two glasses of wine for each of you later, your outer clothes had become very loose as well and eventually landed on the floor next to the bed.

“You know,” you murmured in between kisses before Jaehyun slid his tongue along your jaw and only came to a stop with it by the side of your neck, which made you giggle. “I usually don’t do this the first time I meet someone… At least not directly.”

Jaehyun pricked up his ears, but didn’t stop nibbling on the soft skin. “Oh? But then, what do you usually do upon first meeting someone?”

“Usually we go out, to a restaurant or something. And if the vibe is right, one thing leads to another…”

Of course he knew about the fact that high quality escort services didn’t come with short lived physical intimacy only. But there was only so much he was able to do in such a situation, and now he was truly wondering if he should have ordered a room service meal first since he hadn’t even been fixated on physical contact only. It was his first time too, so he still felt a bit lost - and guilty he wasn’t able to offer more.

But he was just so attracted to you which was even more fueled by the bit of alcohol in his system now, and upon the first time he had leaned in to kiss you only moments before this, he knew you felt the same about him. Which was good! After all, he couldn’t imagine getting intimate with someone who had to pretend to like him for his sake and for the money.

“I would have taken you out first too, but during this snowstorm…”

He didn’t come to end his sentence, because you cupped his face and pulled him up, so that you were facing each other again, and you reassured him with your thumb stroking tenderly over his warm cheek, “I don’t mind this time.”

“Good.”

And with that, the last word was spoken just as the last pieces of clothing, your underwear, found their way onto the floor too. 

When Jaehyun was running his fingers through your hair, caressing the sensitive skin on your shoulder with his warm lips, he noticed that, even after showering, you still smelled as good as in the moment when you first had walked through the door. You weren’t wearing any heavy perfume or another scent. This was just you, the natural you. He liked it.

You were sitting on his lap and held onto his strong upper arms for support as he went lower with his lips to the area around your cleavage. Your teeth sank into the flesh of your bottom lip when he bit into your nipple, making you gasp eventually. You felt him smile against your breast, and, almost as if he wanted to apologize, he licked over the spot and then gently placed a kiss on it. 

When he dedicated his mouth to your other mound though, he didn’t use his teeth anymore, but only his tongue. And a few moments later, you let your head roll back as he sucked on nibbled on that spot, causing sensations to run all through your body and your thighs to clasp around him even stronger as though you wanted more of him too. And you actually did, oh how much you did!

But a familiar tone made you both turn your head to the desk simultaneously where your phone was lightening up and vibrating. Who would interrupt you at such a time?

“Just ignore it,” you told him, and he nodded deliberately.

“Very well.”

He grabbed you by your bum and with a gasp, you then were flipped around and fell backwards onto the mattress with a giggle. When your phone had exactly stopped ringing, you couldn't tell in the end, because you long had Jaehyun’s fingers inside of you.

What he thought when he was pleasuring you with his hand, wasn’t only how hot you looked as a writhing and whiny mess under him from whom he couldn’t avert his eyes, but also how fun it was, because there was a smile showing on your face every now and then.

Jaehyun usually never did one night stands, though there had been a handful of ones throughout the years. But these girls, he had talked to before, even in a drunken state only. That he just requested the company of someone and they would actually match so well from the first moment on like with you, he hadn’t expected at all.

His fingers were drenched when he pulled them out of you after noticing how tight you had gotten around him due to your arousal, but he was determined to prolong the act. After all, you had the whole night and he could still sleep on the plane the next day - if they would run again - which he doubted. And a part of him already thought further and made plans to book you instead again.

“Look at me.”

Jaehyun didn’t know why exactly, but he just wanted that. It made him feel warm around his chest. And he could need a little warmth right now when it was so cold and lonely outside. He hoped you did too. 

Your eyes were indeed warm when you looked at each other, so he couldn’t help but lift his free hand and brush some streaks of your hair out of your face. There were worse ways to spend Christmas, he had to admit. Actually, this Christmas had turned really nice at this point.

Jaehyun got pulled out of his thoughts though when he felt the palms of your hands in his nether regions, first stroking along his inner thighs, then wrapping around his full length. No way this was happening. The unexpected sensation made him fold, and he had a really hard time propping his weight up against his elbows to hold himself in position when it all felt so good.

“You like that?” you whispered into his ear with a low voice that turned him on so much.

“Just keep going and I won’t be able to guarantee anything.”

With a brush over his tip, you wiped away his droplet of precum. You then retracted your hand to lead your stained fingers to your mouth and slid them in without breaking eye contact with him. This way you let him know that he nevertheless would end up very lucky this christmas. 

Even your phone vibrating again couldn’t interrupt the mood since you both quietly agreed to ignore it before he reached for a condom on the nightstand to prepare himself. There still were a few hours of Christmas Eve left, a few hours where you could still try out stuff. Right now, you both just needed to get it off.

Jaehyun wondered if there was something you absolutely wouldn’t do or liked to do, but there was no room to think about it much anyway when you were lying under him, completely naked, a light sheen of sweat covering most parts of your body, and your facial expression welcoming him with your lips slightly parted. 

Could he imagine a better gift for his situation? Absolutely not.

He parted your thighs with his knees when he sat in front of you and guided himself in. It was easy with almost no strength required, that was how wet he had already gotten you through his fingerwork. Grabbing your thighs to your left and right, Jaehyun slid you along the mattress closer to him so that you were eventually fully sheathed inside and stuck skin on skin.

You spread out your hands when he started to pull out, then pushed in again, and with every time, he added a little more force. Your eyes rolled to the ceiling as your fingers entangled with the sheet to your left and right, and you suddenly weren’t mad at your parents anymore for leaving you alone on Christmas, so that you had decided to still work and practically spend it with a stranger. You could imagine having a worse celebration than this one right here. 

It had been quite a while since you last had sex, and you weren’t sure it had ever been this good or if it were only the circumstances and you were just so into each other - which was so rare! But in the end, it didn’t really matter. If the first blind encounter was already this good, there for sure would be a second one!

You felt your climax nearing the moment he picked up his speed, and although you were able to cum like this, you still appreciated that he changed the position from kneeling in front of you to lying on top of you. It felt good to wrap your legs around his middle, and feel him, every stroke, no matter how hard or long, even more intense.

He was breathing into your ear, and at one point even kissed your earlobe, then your cheek. It was intimate and cute at the same time, and he eventually hovered over you with his face, so you spread out your arms to welcome him with a kiss on your mouth, and then hugged him close to your body.

His breathing turned irregular and it wasn’t in sync with his thrusts anymore, that was how you could foretell that at any second, he would cum. With your fingers grabbing into his hair, partly gently, partly determined, you signalized him that it was alright to let go, and that you would follow too.

As though he had been holding in until you gave such kind of approval, he came the moment he slid back inside you with a low groan right beside your ear. You witnessed his breathing turning regular and slower and him gaining back full control of his body, because he did not directly pull out of you after he was done.

Instead, he continued moving for as long as he was still able to and eventually got you off with his hands so that you shook in his arms and he was now the one having to hold you through your climax.

“Best Christmas Eve ever,” you eventually breathed when he let go of you and rolled to one side of the now messy bed. “That was a nice gift.”

“Right back at you,” Jaehyun said.

With a look at you, he observed how you tried to grab the blanket to wrap it around your naked body to keep yourself warm. He knew a better method though. 

Jaehyun moved to your side of the bed and laid down, but making sure to have closed his arms around you before to pull you down with him right onto his chest. For a moment, he was worried that it was too much and you would free yourself again. But as he felt your muscles relaxing and you eventually put an arm around him too, he was very much relieved.

“Why are you spending Christmas alone?” you eventually asked him after a few moments of silence. “She didn’t tell me.”

Ah, so details truly weren’t passed on upon request. “My flight back home got canceled due to the snowstorm, but I didn’t want to be all alone.” Jaehyun didn’t know whether he could ask this question back, but he did nonetheless. He figured if you didn’t want to or weren’t allowed to share private info, you would tell him immediately.

“Oh, you wanted to spend it among your family too but they live abroad?” He wanted to explain that he lived abroad too, but your answer caught his attention more, “My parents suddenly decided they would rather spend two weeks on a cruise in the Caribbean sea instead of celebrating with me, so I was alone too.” 

“I understand that.” If he would have been left alone on Christmas, since it was a holiday spent among the family in the UK, he would have rather worked too, Jaehyun thought to himself. “That’s why we’re here.”

“Yeah, that’s why.”

It was cold outside, but their bodies and hearts were warm, not only because of them sharing their physical warmth, but mostly because they were not alone anymore. 

So it was an unspoken agreement that their encounter wouldn’t end here. Or at night. Probably only the next morning. And even then, you both wondered if it actually would when it felt this good.

“Should I order room service?” Jaehyun asked instead.

You nodded with excitement. “Actually, I’m quite hungry.”

“Yeah, me too.” He laughed and stretched out his arm to reach for the phone, but you both heard a knock on the door before he could call anyone.

“Did you already order something before?” you asked out of curiosity, but Jaehyun shook his head. 

“Maybe someone from my team?”

You frowned. “Team…?”

But Jaehyun didn’t see it as he had already jumped out of bed to throw on some light clothes so that it wouldn’t get that embarrassing to open the door to one of the staff.

Standing in front of him was no familiar staff at all though.

“Good evening, here I am.”

Jaehyun was flabbergasted. Had it been a glass of wine too much? Because in front of him stood the woman whose exact pictures he had seen online this morning, he now remembered clearly. Not only was she wearing the exact same clothes, but also the same heavy makeup. No doubt, he wasn’t dreaming or imagining.

“I’m sorry for the delay,” she continued. “The shuttle you ordered couldn’t get through, I was waiting for so long. I ordered a taxi from Oxford Circus instead and that eventually got stuck. I had to walk the rest of the way, but now I’m here… What is it? Don’t you want to invite me in?”

“Pardon me… what?!”

On the other side of the room, you had finally picked up the phone call from your friend who had just called for the third time.

“Hey! You can’t imagi-... What do you mean? How can he still be waiting when I am currently with him? Yes, the guy you set me up on a blind date with, he’s here,” you defended yourself over the line, then paused. “What do you mean? I am in the room on the fifth floor, the exact room you told me.”

You looked over to the man who had just closed the door again and your eyes locked with undefinable gazes. 

“This is the fourth floor.”

Then, you both asked the other as realization dawned at the same time,

“Who are you?”

[anantaru]

DAY 12 — COCKWARMING

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — heizou, alhaitham, baizhu

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, cockwarming, tit play, teasing you to the brim like staaaaaahp, a sprinkle of brat taming because why not, mean genshin boys

𖧡 — HEIZOU

"ah- i could get used to this."

and needless to say, it feels good, largely to heizou though— especially when he shadows his skilled fingers over your bare chest because he knows it'll drive you insane, his hand slowly settling down on top of your breasts, squeezing and massaging the mounds before groping your tits, together with his cock slipping past the solidness of your slit— throbbing, pressing and stretching inside.

you cling to him for your dear life, the fulfillment of his erection jammed within the bounds of you swelling pussy, candidly battering your cunt when you attempt to press down on his hips, or perhaps move for that matter, instead whimpering sweetly as heizou stills your hips with a solid arm whilst the other pinches your aroused nipple and tugs on it ever so slightly.

you pout out deliberately, yearning for him so terribly you cannot help yourself but moan into his neck, "heizou.." you say, stumbling over your words, "don't tease me now.. please." and it's not necessarily something your boyfriend would consider teasing— especially since in his opinion, you should be utterly aware on how his real taunting looked like.

in the span of no time, it had gotten to the point where it became a game between you both, one which he would most likely end up winning the moment he shushes your cute sniffles with a kiss, idly shuffling in his seat before unintentionally (it was very much intentional) moving his cock and thrusting up hard against one cloying, pressing, spot.

"fuck— well, you faced worse before, haven't you?" his words, although dripping of artificial consideration, vibrate all the way from your pouty lips, to your sensitive nipples being played with, to your wet messy core slicking up his buried shaft, shortly gushing around it so much that a white, thick ring of whites took shape around the base of his cock— he’s still entirely buried in you, with that single thrust hitting you like a sudden hot fever dashing on top of your shoulders.

heizou continues to keep you pressed against his cock, one hand long since branding the flesh of your juddering hips— and it's almost bruising to you, long fingers plunging into the skin hard enough to make you wince out and beg again, only to be met with a cocked up brow, a wet smirk and an even deeper throb of his erection.

your quivering body was exceedingly past recovering by now and you helplessly swallow down a bubbling sob from your throat when he grinds inside you again, yet with barely any strength aiding the move— the stiffened veins of his erection melting with your walls that the combination of those very sensations heizou brought forth focused on intermittently inching you into madness.

𖧡 — ALHAITHAM

your thighs clamp against each side of alhaitham's hips while one arm freely closes around your waist, the last thing he'd want is for you to move and disturb his peace— whilst the other, well, was occupied in holding a book he was currently reading, adventurous eyes deciphering each and every little letter printed on top, eagerly memorizing and pondering about a much deeper, more crucial interpretation behind the portrayed story.

yet you're taking him just like he needed you to, raw and hard, while he barely gifts you any attention. ugh, some sort of punishment coming from the scribe? might be, but you knew alhaitham very well and that his mind simply wasn't wired that way, instead he probably thought that it would cost him far less effort to put two into one, pleasure and knowledge, as he referred to it, stitched together with both sides unable to slip past his grip.

it's mostly exhausting around your legs, specifically the insides of your thighs that began to stiffen and ache, forcing you to taste subtle early signs of lightheadedness from your desperate attempts to not move nor clench down on him so strongly.

another breathy gasp, and you let him know that you're obviously struggling with his cock being way too big and heavy to remain in that way without moving at the very least— a warm puddle of your arousal exuding from your hole and divulging at the foundation of his shaft, sending droplets of the mixture on the office floor.

"please, oh, please." you whine, suddenly flustered when you realize you just blurted those frenzied pleas out loud, establishing them right against the shell of his ears, his headphones since long disposed of and placed on the table next to you— whilst beyond questioning, besides the fact that alhaitham was wholly absorbed into the fantasy novel in his hand, he'd never pass up on an opportunity to listen to your short-lived whines, the cute weeps or the loud thuds of your heart beat reverberating against his chest.

"already?" he speaks softly before you meet his eyes, surprisingly enough his pupils were blown wide and you cannot even fathom this level of discipline when it probably hurt him too to not move at least an inch up and down your fluttering hole. "i barely started this chapter."

"then read faster!" you interrupt him, no, practically snap at him, nervously licking your lips as your hands run over his cheeks to make him kiss you, his raw erection throbbing at the bold move as he for once redirects his entire attention from that pestering, bothersome, annoying book in his hand that you would love to just dispose of entirely.

"okay, okay," the man shuffles around, "you better make it worth my time then." and he teases you, always, then drinks up a trembling moan that spumes up on your mouth as his quick tongue darts out to run around your lips and wet them with his saliva, your throat aching in excitement for what's about to come. 

alhaitham bites back a groan when you swiftly mould your walls over his cock, needful and slobbering your arousal once more— you're so soft there, ah, it never fails to amaze him. but to get himself on top of things again, most importantly to not lose himself in you, he traces your back up and down with his palm before teasingly rutting into your wet sex, it's barely perceivable to you and maybe that's what would ultimately tip you over the edge if alhaitham does not stop those cruel tactics.

although, pondering over his honesty, it's quite cute when you're frustrated and bitter because of a situation he put you in, or how much harder it was to stay disciplined in focusing on his book when a coat of a heavenly expression litters across your bristling cheeks— it just feels so dreamy to be inside you.

alhaitham might just look past the little shifts of your body that you sneaked between pauses, despite them offering you the tiniest teases and moments of friction on your overflowing hole, and yes, your leg muscles were screaming for some sort of pleasure, regardless keeping yourself still and happy to take his perfectly shaped length.

𖧡 — BAIZHU

you brace yourself, without further questioning settling on baizhu's lap before lining your slit up with his leaking cock— his pre like a translucent film sheer on top of the rosy tip.

and for the most part, this scenario appeared to be quite familiar to you— at the end of the day, your boyfriend could never be entirely satisfied when you ride him for hours, he needs it without pause. it warms his heart when you’re on top— as if you were somehow claiming him, his groans exuberant with lust, a velvet tune on your ears so exciting as you watch how he succumbs to the touch of being engulfed by a warm, soft cunt.

this time, although, something didn't align with previous scenarios— because the second you had pushed him in, touched up his shaft with your wetness, baizhu instantly places both hands on your moving hips, breathily laughing in both bliss and an ulterior emotion as he squeezes the flesh of your ass, your pretty noises almost making him decide against doing this right now.

of course, you try to lift your hips so you could bounce up and down, his cockhead snugly enclosed and piercing your swelling flesh as he spread you apart by his girth, your body desperately clinging against his chest and it's only then, when you realize what's going on, your hot, breathless moans garnering his gentle attention.

"uh?" you tilt your head to the side, then wince when his cock reaches impossibly deep and nudges over your sensitivity, the infused tingles of that singular drag holding you captive, intimately trapped within his arms, "ah— is something wrong?"

"no, nothing." baizhu coos, mouthing a wet spot over your jawline before slotting his lips over your own. you fall into a kind of daze when he keeps you strong against his thudding cock, your hands on his shoulders when you press your nails into the clothed skin, breathing deep, slow, at least trying but your attempts immediately fall flat when he offers your body some teases of friction.

"is something supposed to be wrong?" you're sweating at his words, your leg muscles screaming when you gaze at him through confused, widened eyes, "i- i'm not sure," you babble, the shivers in your lower area doing everything in their limited power to keep the pleasure going for as long as possible, anything to make you feel at least something but baizhu wouldn't let you.

"think harder, darling." he grins, letting the exposed warmth of your cunt wrap around his cock as he lifts you up, "is this better?" no, of course not, you panic, this was even worse and you whine at the lost fullness, leaning against him to wrap your arms around his neck, his cock head still nudging at your slit.

"it's not, it's not, it's not.." you can hardly move, and baizhu swallows down your mewls with a lick into your mouth, nibbling at your bottom lip before smirking when he feels how you're rolling your hips, or at least, try— despite that, you're being met with strong resistance again, wondering how someone such as baizhu, who was perceived as a frail man, suddenly claimed such sturdy force in his arms.

"easy now.." he whispers cruelly, and you can practically taste his amusement on your tongue.

"maybe then "i'll move."

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[temis-de-leon]

Male!MC as the future king of the Devildom

Characters: Diavolo x male!MC (established relationship) with stellar cameos from Lucifer, Mammon, Satan, Asmo and Barbatos

Main Masterlist

@beawesome04: Hello! I was wondering if I could request a one-shot of Diavolo reacting to being in another world where he meets the Male! Reader as the Future King of Devildom! Only that instead of the reader being the kind-hearted transfer student (Basically how MC acts in game), this Reader is a lot more serious and isolated. Hope this is good!

A/N: cannot believe that the roulette worked

.

It wasn’t the first time his eagerness had gotten the best of him, but to be fair, what else was he supposed to do when the circumstances of his life forced him to be so lonely and bored? With Barbatos and Lucifer always reminding him to do his work every hour of the day, who was he to ignore such tempting opportunities?

Plus, it wasn’t like he went searching for the mirror.

He had been merely strolling around the castle, hiding from his butler, when an old wooden door closed with a thud and left him trapped in a dusty room. Everything there had aged badly in abandonment except the mirror. It was a heavily magically charged object and its golden frame shined in the dark, engraved with creatures and symbols from the three realms that merged at the top. One of the corners showed a dragon curled around a lamb, both resting in a peaceful embrace, and he couldn’t help but think about you.

Sadly, sneaking around and having secret dates left you with an obscene amount of schoolwork, just like him, and although you always said you were aware of the consequences, he knew he should be more responsible. His burdens were too heavy to share and the last thing he wanted to do was selfishly take the time you could use for leisure.

Something changed in front of him and he finally realised that the mirror hadn’t shown any reflection until then, but it wasn’t entirely accurate; his eyes weren’t golden anymore, instead a light shade of brown, and he was wearing the generic RAD uniform. However, when he looked down, it was still red.

Diavolo hummed, too intrigued to turn around and continue his little escapade. In the blink of an eye, he switched to his demon form and although the mirror followed his movements, it didn’t change his appearance.

He turned back and stared again.

He looked human.

And just like that, as if his revelation triggered the powers of the mirror, a wave softly covered the surface of the glass and turned his reflection into a blur. A light showed in the middle while the room remained in the dark. Diavolo could only look, mouth agape and eyes open wide, as the brightness in front of him grew and slowly disintegrated the glass, shards turning to ashes before falling to the ground.

Then, in the span of just a second, the light engulfed him and he disappeared.

.

.

Powerful magic sucked him out of the room, pulling him through a suffocating white tunnel until he fell backwards on something soft, which, judging by the duvet and the pillows, was a bed.

Your bed, if he remembered correctly. How would he be wrong, anyway? It was the most recognisable room he’d ever seen. The bedding was pink and there was a tree above him; it was unmistakable.

The change of scenery brought a wide smile to his face and he wasted no time in getting up to search for you, but he was soon met with disappointment.

While it was true that you were the one who did most of the visits and he only went to the House of Lamentation on celebrations or for meetings with Lucifer, he had seen your room enough to know this wasn’t your room.

Just like his brand-new brown eyes or his black uniform, there was something familiar about his surroundings that slightly unnerved him, like the pictures on the walls. His face was plastered on all of them, mainly with the brothers, but there were some with the angels, Solomon, Barbatos and you as well. Not as many as he’d like, though, and while you looked happy in the pictures, your smile wasn’t as big as usual.

And your eyes had also changed, hadn’t they? Were your canine teeth sharper, too?

“Dia!” sang a voice from the other side of the door, making him jerk in surprise. “Are you coming out, hon’? You’re supposed to be at the castle in twenty minutes; let me see what you’re wearing!”

He stood there, unable to say anything coherent while frantically looking around for clues. There were clothes his size scattered around the room and his DDD, if that was even still its name, was charging on the table.

“You’re awake, aren’t you?” Asmo talked again.

“Me? Y- Yes, I am!”

“Then come out, silly, I want to see you”

“Yeah, I figured” he whispered to himself.

He was wearing the black uniform, but it was wrinkled and the shirt had partially come out of his pants. “The other him” had probably been napping before changing places. Was he in that dusty old room in the castle, then? Was he about to get lectured by Barbatos once he was caught sneaking around? His trusted butler would probably guess the unusualness of the situation, however.

Though Barbatos would probably lose his mind once he realised the prince was lost in an unknown location.

Diavolo was sure everything would be okay.

Smiling in uncontained excitement, he hurried to the table, looked at the screen and let his heart hammer against his chest as he read the messages; Lord MC was asking him whether he wanted to stay for dinner or not and he’d be crazy if he ever rejected that offer, especially in the strange circumstances he was living.

“Hey, Diavolo! Check this out!”

“Mammon…!”

The cheery demon opened the door with a slam, entering without any care in the world while flaunting a shiny black card. Asmo trailed after him with a frown on his face, but his brother wasn’t paying him or his protests any attention.

“I got Goldie back, so you better get ready to leave the house and go to the casino. I didn’t work hard to earn this money for nothing!”

Diavolo smiled back at his grin but didn’t say anything and watched instead as Asmo laughed in incredulity and mockery. Soon the room was filled with jabs and well-thought insults while both brothers went at each other’s throats, and before anyone could do anything too drastic, Satan appeared at the door and rolled his eyes at the spectacle.

“You want us to believe that you earned this money legally and honestly?”

“Why would you say it like that? You make me look like a thief!”

“That’s what you are, you useless scumbag!”

The argument didn’t show signs of dying any time soon so, suddenly remembering that he was supposed to be at the Demon Lord’s castle in just a few minutes, Diavolo silently grabbed his phone and tip-toed towards Satan, who was waiting for him with a hopeless expression.

“So many years have passed and they still manage to embarrass me…” he lamented with a frown before swiftly closing the door and inviting Diavolo to walk beside him. “I thought you had plans with MC, aren’t you running a bit late?”

A wave of excitement flooded his veins at the mention of your name, but he forced himself to calm down. It wasn’t you who he had plans with, after all; it was another version of you that had every right to sit on his throne and bear what was otherwise his title. Did you have a demon form too? Were your duties as demanding as his? Were you as eager to run away from work as him? There was only one way to find out.

“I fell asleep” he ended up answering with no intention to continue. If Satan had expected a longer explanation he said nothing, but his silence was telling enough.

The Avatar of Wrath had stayed quiet because he wasn’t surprised. This Diavolo, the human version who was so similar yet different to the demon prince, overslept and wore a wrinkly uniform. He lived with the brothers and had no responsibilities other than being a good human world representative and surviving every adversity that was thrown his way.

How exciting!

They were at the main entrance before he could realise it and if he thought his day couldn’t get any better, he was very wildly wrong.

“Diavolo!” called a voice from the top of the stairs. “Where in Lord MC’s name is Mammon? Have you seen him?”

“Of course!” he answered with uncontained glee and Satan stared at him with raised eyebrows.

Although not as exhausted as his other version, Lucifer looked the same. He was even grumpy and everything! A deep frown on his face as he gracefully walked down the stairs, all the while mumbling insults and curses against the second born.

“So? Where is he? And don’t bother hiding and defending him; you know there will be consequences for you as well if you help him”

Diavolo had to bite down a giggle. There he was, his best friend, looking at him with darkness in his eyes, a mean smile and arms crossed over his chest. His words undoubtedly carried a real threat, but Diavolo was so thrilled about his adventure that he simply could not take him seriously.

“You will find him in no time, I’m sure” he laughed, leaving the eldest brother unimpressed and the younger amused. “I’m in a hurry, though. Lord MC is waiting for me”

That seemed to do the trick. Lucifer’s eyes opened wide in shock and one of his hands clutched his chest while the other hastily pushed Diavolo towards the door.

“Well, don’t keep him waiting then” he said in a scolding tone. However, once they were finally out of the house, his voice turned lower and softer. ��See if you can distract him a little bit. Barbatos has been trying to get him out of his office, but you know how he is; if our friendship was closer, I would’ve tried myself, but I think that’s a job for you”

He tried not to stare in confusion, but the words had left him speechless. So far, the alternate universe shown by the mirror had proven to be one where Diavolo was in your place and you in his, so Lucifer’s plead was nonsensical in his head.

He would never barricade himself in his office for more than necessary, let alone turn down Barbatos’s advice to rest, so why did you? It didn’t make sense to see you, a human so cheerful and kind, as someone so closed and isolated; but seeing you doing so in a universe where you were supposed to fill his shoes was way, way more perplexing.

“Is everything alright, Diavolo?”

“Are you feeling okay?” asked Satan leaning over his brother’s shoulder.

They were both looking at him with worry and, thankfully, no suspicion. However, if he didn’t try to act more casually, someone would eventually figure out that he wasn’t the Diavolo they loved.

He knew very well how his version of the brothers, and everyone else for that matter, would act in a scenario where your safety was in question. He was in no hurry to discover if these alternate versions would react the same way.

“I’m fine” he said quickly, trying to downplay his behaviour. “I just didn’t sleep very well, that’s all”

That appeared to be enough for the moment.

Satan smiled and waved goodbye, wishing him a nice evening before entering the house. Lucifer crossed his arms again before bidding farewell.

“Please, do have a good time”

Then his eyes went back to the darkness.

“Rest assured, however, if I don’t find Mammon, there will be a proper punishment waiting for you upon your return”

And that time, he did feel chills up his spine.

.

.

His excitement had run down by the time he finally arrived at the castle.

While the city’s skeleton remained the same, the ambience reflected a side of the Devildom that he had never known. His kingdom was alive, full of colours even in eternal night and perpetually changing alongside those who populated it. This land, however, was muter; more elegant than casual. Every demon wore their true forms and spoke in mellow, cautious voices, blending in the dark and the breeze and moving as fast as he blinked.

It wasn’t dark or gloomy, as he saw various open stores and restaurants at full capacity, but it was certainly tamer… Conservative was the word.

Just like his Devildom showed the way he ruled as the future king, its alternate version was an obvious example of your leadership.

An uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach. Just how different were you?

He took out his phone, fingers just a tad uncoordinated due to nerves, and sighed when he saw no messages from you. You must have been used to his human version’s tardiness. There were, however, at least a dozen messages from Asmo; a mix of crying stickers and pleads that didn’t help ease his mind. He decided to read only the most recent ones.

Did you seriously leave the house wearing your wrinkly uniform?? I could’ve helped you choose something better! At least you’re already dating and you don’t have to impress him… But next time I’m making you even more beautiful! Also, insist on the foam party!! Lucifer will kill us if we do it at the HOL, but we need MC’s permission to use The Fall! And you know how he is.

And then more crying stickers.

Did he know how you were, though?

His mind went blank when the castle’s door appeared in his line of sight. There was no time to back down and he didn’t want to do it either, but would he be able to if he ever wanted to return?

Closing his eyes as he raised his hand to knock on the door, Diavolo searched for that deep root in his chest that connected every piece of his body and soul. It felt crimson and black, like coagulated blood, but also white and golden; hope for his future and his crown. While settled at the deepest end of his heart, its energy moved with tendrils; you would compare them to axons whenever he tried to explain it to you.

He searched and searched and bile went up his throat when he found nothing. His breath quickened and cold sweat covered his skin the moment he couldn’t transform into his demon form; the fear hitting him so forcefully that he felt himself grow lightheaded, falling forward against the door with his whole body.

It opened almost instantly and someone extremely familiar wasted no time in helping him stand.

“Diavolo! Are you okay?”

“I feel awful…”

The words left him before he even thought about them, but he guessed that was Barbatos’s effect on him, no matter the universe.

Gloved hands immediately straightened him, gently pushing him inside before closing the door and taking him to the kitchen, where he was seated and promptly served a warm cup of tea.

He looked up with a raised brow, showing his amazement like an open book, and received a soft laugh in return. The butler was worried about him, but Diavolo could tell he was trying to remain as calm as possible, probably not to freak him out even further.

“We thought you’d arrive sooner, so I prepared it a little while ago, but don’t worry, Lucifer warned me you were distracted by the brothers back at the House of Lamentation. And also that you were feeling a bit under the weather. Is that true? Is there anything I can do to help?”

Diavolo realised in that instant that acting casual would be an impossible feat. If looking at Barbatos was unnerving enough, then spending time with you would likely make his brain stop functioning. You were, based on what he had seen and heard so far, a solemn prince of a lonely nature, which was already too different from what he knew.

Being a magicless human with no definitive allies, he hoped the other version of you would be as wise and understanding as the boyfriend he was happily dating, but chances of survival based on speculation and trust were very slim.

Thankfully, he had the advantage of dating you in both universes. The thought alone warmed his entire body and he had to cover his mouth with a hand to hide his lovesick grin.

“I’m honoured, Barbatos” he said, trying to justify his abrupt giddiness. “Don’t worry about me, please, I’m just tired… And impatient to see MC as well”

There was a beat of silence before the demon chuckled with understanding, seemingly convinced by his answer, but Diavolo knew enough about fake smiles and his butler’s mannerisms to notice the way his green eyes had quickly scanned him from head to toe during that short second. The mixture of the blissfulness that dating you in both universes brought and the fear of being studied by a strange version of his friend was making his heart go crazy.

He asked himself, with unfamiliar horror, if the irregular flutter of his heart was audible beyond the confinements of his chest.

Suddenly, the kitchen door opened and a flow of fresh air entered the space.

“Diavolo, you’re finally here”

“My Lord”

Barbatos bowed immediately, an arm over his chest and another behind his back. You tilted your head in acknowledgement before observing your surroundings with contained curiosity, surely searching for what was taking so long. Finally, after finding nothing, you turned around and gave Diavolo a small smile.

He could barely return the gesture in time.

“I was about to go search for you, my Lord” said the butler with a polite expression, briefly looking at Diavolo before centring all of his attention on you. “It seems you were faster; I apologize”

“You were hosting my guest of honour, no need to apologize”

“Allow me to do so, sir”

“Very well, then”

The reflection of a mirror was not oneself. It was an image in reverse, only similar to reality on the surface.

You were there, but it wasn’t you.

There was no shine on your eyes, nor smile wrinkles on your cheeks. The red uniform looked unnatural on your body, more like a costume than a formal attire, and the way you stood in the middle of the room made him frown in discomfort. You looked regal and imposing, but not like the man he loved.

“Are you okay, Dia?”

Barbatos hummed in amusement before he could answer and you looked at him with a questioning glance.

“That seems to be the question of the day, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean…?”

“I slept awfully” he hurried an answer, but that proved to be worse.

The knowing glint in Barbatos’s stare felt like a sentence, which caught your attention and raised your suspicion. There was an unspoken conversation between you and your butler and before Diavolo had time to say anything else, you looked at him with both arms behind your back and spoke in a non-committal tone.

“Would you please wait outside? It will only take a moment”

He nodded and forced himself to get up from his seat. His body felt like an unoiled engine, joints cracking uncomfortably and making him cringe, but that wasn’t what was making him wince. It was the sensation of having no magic and no support in case anything went bad, of the idea of being perceived as an impostor whose intentions were still unknown.

The silence followed him as he left the kitchen and the last thing he saw before closing the door was the cup of tea he hadn’t touched, still full and no longer warm.

Could he find the dusty room where the mirror was located? He’d probably be able to retrace his steps from his office, but he wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to reach the office without being caught first. One of the servants would eventually see him and report to Barbatos and then it would only be a matter of time before his fate was sealed.

But what other option did he have? Convince you that he meant no harm and that his other version was safe? He didn’t even know if he was safe! For all he knew, the human Diavolo could be experimenting with his new powers and driving Barbatos and Lucifer mad! The other six brothers were probably having a field day, which just made everything worse.

He supposed the best he could do was lay low and get on your good graces, although that might be difficult if he was impersonating your boyfriend.

Quite the adventure, indeed.

Finally, after what felt like hours, he heard the hinges again and saw you emerge from the kitchen. Your calm demeanour did nothing to ease his nerves, but he still placed himself beside you when you started to walk away.  

He tried to ignore Barbatos’s presence following far behind them.

Of course, he had no such luck.

.

.

Somehow, being alone with you didn’t make him as apprehensive as the others had eventually made him feel. Sure, the silence between you was uncomfortable and tense as a string, but at least he could distract himself by observing the flowers in the path and the nocturnal birds flying over your heads.

Just like the structure of the city, the flora and fauna of the Devildom remained the same in both universes, so being surrounded by the familiarity of something so simple was probably what was helping him stay grounded and keeping him from spiralling.

You took him for a stroll through the gardens, distractedly caressing the leaves and the petals as you passed and scratching the surface of the water when you went around the fountains. Not a single word was said, yet your tranquillity didn’t quiver. Perhaps, as non-social as you were as a prince, the silence was your source of comfort.

A long half an hour passed until you finally decided it was time to sit down and have a talk, although it might have been shorter; not once did Diavolo dare to grab his phone and check the time.

The wooden bench was wide enough to sit comfortably without being glued to each other, but he still leaned against the armrest and tried his hardest to ignore the way the ornate iron dug into his skin. You seemed to pay no mind, quietly admiring the horizon while the moon lighted your face and the breeze moved your hair. Diavolo couldn’t help but stare in wonder, wishing his beloved boyfriend was there instead. His fantasy was shattered, however, when you turned to look at him with a hardened gaze.

“Who are you?”

The straightforwardness of the question caught him off guard. He expected you to dance around the topic, maybe even toy with him a little bit, but it looked like you didn’t want to waste any time on the subject.

He didn’t either, not anymore. He longed for the comfort of your presence and the warmth of his magic; everything that was part of him had been ripped away and while it had been entertaining at the beginning, his impatience was running very thin.

Diavolo sat straight, vulnerable and at a disadvantage, but still the future Demon King.

“I am Lord Diavolo, Prince of the Devildom” he said with a secure tone. Your expression changed almost imperceptibly, turning to stupefaction before going back to emotionless. “I’ve been transported to this world on accident and I’ve lost my powers. I mean no harm”

“Incapability to make harm and unwillingness to do so are not equal”

“I don’t want any trouble”

“Why would I believe you?”

“It’s in your best interest”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a warning”

He stared at you without blinking, trying to get his point across without showing any aggressiveness; hopefully, his human-like appearance would help his case.

“You are quite bold” you said with poorly contained ire and indignation. Your lips formed a thin line and there was a deep frown on your face; it almost looked painful.

“I am telling the truth. I’m not sure, but I believe your Diavolo is in my world. If you help me return, he may come back to you”

“And if he doesn’t?”

What a great question.

Nothing certain was on the table, only mere speculation. If he was a human living with the brothers while you were the demon prince living in the castle, it was logical to assume the alternate Diavolo was living in a world where he was the prince and you were the human. Where else could he be otherwise?

“I don’t know” he finally said, swallowing hard. “But I’ll be out of your way”

You stayed in silence for a couple of seconds before getting up and pacing for a few minutes. The grass flattened under your feet and the birds resting on the branches flew away. Your frustration would be noticeable even to the most obtuse demon.

“You were transported; how?”

“There’s a room in the east wing of the castle, not far from the office, with a mirror inside. I was running away from Barbatos when I found it. The reflection it showed wasn’t mine and I got curious, then there was a light and it brought me here”

There was a moment of silence where you both stared at each other. Thankfully, your anger had mostly gone away, having been replaced by intrigue and disbelief. It could be his imagination, but Diavolo was pretty sure there was a tiny smirk on your lips.

“You were running away from Barbatos”

“I was”

“For what reason?”

He closed his eyes with slight embarrassment, knowing perfectly well that the lecturing would follow him no matter the universe.

“He was making me work”

“I beg your pardon?”

There it was, the chuckle of incredulity. You raised your eyebrows and tilted your head as if that would help you hear better. The moonlight was crowning you, leaving your face in the shadows and making Diavolo feel incredibly exposed, but he still answered.

“I’ve been working for days on end and I was tired, but I had more paperwork, so I asked for more tea and took the chance to run away when he left me alone”

“You, as the heir to the throne,” you added with scepticism, “didn’t want to do your job?”

“I wanted to spend time with my boyfriend”

“And who that may be?”

“You” he barked, finally gaining the feeling of having the upper ground.

Diavolo watched with satisfaction as you blinked in surprise, petrified on your spot. There was a shift in your eyes, something that softened the accusation in them, and then, slowly, you walked towards him and sat down again, this time closer but still not touching.

“We are dating in your world?” your voice had subdued as well, slightly leaning towards contentment.

“Yes” he nodded, allowing himself to smile a little. “For a few months now”

“Just like us, then”

His heart did a flip at the statement even when he was already aware of the fact, cheeks growing warm and making him grin like an idiot. You didn’t notice, as you were too occupied admiring the moon in amazement.

“What perfection” you said with a voice hoarse from emotion. “To find each other in more than one reality”

Diavolo forced himself to swallow and push down that painful spine in his throat. Meeting you had probably been one of the warmest moments of his life, being surpassed only by the day you shared your first kiss, and he kept both memories in his heart with extreme caution and care.

Knowing that those occasions had happened to other versions of him was just another memory waiting to be stored in his brain.

“Perfection, indeed” he answered with wet eyes and no amount of sadness in them. “One of my finest accomplishments”

You chuckled, what was probably the happiest he had seen you so far, before getting up one more time and offering him a hand to help him do the same.

“Come on, let’s get you home. We can search for the mirror and, if that doesn't work, luckily for us, I have a very talented demon who is an expert on portals to other realities”

Diavolo smiled at your teasing, sniffing and swallowing a couple of more times to fully erase the sudden raw emotion that you had both shared just then. Still, there was a bit of uncertainty left in his mind.

“What if your Diavolo doesn’t come back?”

You stopped in your tracks when you heard the question, but didn’t turn around. It seemed he had already seen too much of your emotions in just one night.

“I thought we made it clear” you muttered while continuing to walk the path. “We will always find each other”

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010  @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom @sammywo

[mxkyu--x9e]

hiiii!!!!!!!! could I request best friend chan who confesses his feelings for reader on live not realizing they're watching? Hopefully this makes sense lol

|:: The chat's view on love

Author's note: Hii!!!! Thank you for much for this request!! I hope I wrote this to your expectations!! Thank you so much,I'm sorry if it's not to your expectations because it definitely did not make me happy!! But I hope it's good enough.

Synopsis: With Bang Chan's live, Stays swarm in, asking questions and such..and one slip of his tongue revealed a big detail on his life...poor boy's crush.

Warnings: Idol! Bang Chan|| fem! Reader|| nothing really, sorry if it's pretty short.

"No, Berry is actually doing good!! She's with Hannah in Australia, what are you talking about???" Chan asked the live with confused laughter, as he continued to talk with Stays on his chat. Almost a good few millions, actually.

As he answered questions, laughing softly it wasn't too big on his thoughts to really think everything through and see if Stays psycho-analyze everything he said or did. As he read out questions for himself, while playing random videos of his own entertainment.

"Chocolate or cookies and cream? I'm sorry...I gotta say cookies and cream, it's too bitter for me to eat chocolate in ice-cream." he said, shaking his head as he laughed. "How is your best-friend doing??" he read, and god was he delighted to talk about you!

He also took the time to check your texts from earlier this day, telling him to eat something, as he felt butterflies in his stomach and warmth in his chest, it was just adorable at how much you cared for him.

It felt delightful to get your texts, he didn't know why, it gave him some sort of joy...sure it meant he loved you, you're his best-friend after all, since his trainee years , but this just felt different...

Different from last month...He had no idea when it began, was it when you broke up with your stupid situationship type of boyfriend? Or was it when you personally came to see him after his group won and treated them all to dinner that night...

Maybe it was the fact that you cared for him so deeply, you got along well with Hannah and Berry and his entire family, the fact you always got a good morning and good night text for him in a weird way, how you're always ready to comfort him or others, how you're always the first to support him...It came naturally for him to fall in love with you, how couldn't he??

"They're actually doing pretty great. They recently got me a brand new rice cooker after my old one broke and I was crying to them about it...And god, was it so sweet!! It has bears drawn on it." Chan told the viewers, most commenting about "how cute!" they visualized it to be, how they'd like him to "show it!", and others as he laughed and nodded,

"I will, I will...when I can...But yeah, they've been good. I was texting them today about the new beats I was making and they told me very gently and sweetly, "go eat, la!!" and it's so cute! They're so adorable!!" he said, laughing, as he pressed his lips together to stop the biggest, giddy smile reaching his lips...

"I seriously adore them, they're such an important person in my life and I don't think I ever want to...I don't think I ever want them to leave me..or be apart and I don't want us to drift apart..I might not be making sense, but it's tr-true." he said,

"I ADORE them..." he said, before his eyes glanced up to catch the camera, and he quickly added, "Like a friend, of-course" His heart skipping a beat, as he thought of you again..perfect in his eyes, almost perfect.

He might have not noticed, but Stays definitely did. Speaking from the heart, his irises slightly growing large as he thought of you, an uncontrollable smile on his lips, the one smile where his tiny dimples start showing up as he smiles... That's love...not just admiration for a friend...

And you definitely knew it was love as you stared at the live with bright eyes, feeling flustered already, your stomach cramping in as if on a roller-coaster, you couldn't control your own smile after hearing his honey-dipped words...

The Stays watching knew the warmth those words spread, even in them...Like blankets on a particularly hard day when you simply want to cry, like the warm soup after feeling bad about yourself in the past few days, like the productivity you feel proud of after not living up to your standards, like that one friend's text after you feel left out...

It was warm and it spread to Chan's veins as he glanced at his phone, smiling down, seeing it was yours as he opened, his eyes widening as he scanned the words...

Trying to hide his urge to scream in happiness...But he heard a ping, and he quickly turned back up at camera, eyes widening a bit more that he was still Live..as he reached and looked at his phone, before hurriedly smiling towards the live and Stays,

"I-uh-I gotta go, Stays, a little-...Uh. A littl-emergency, I'm late-late to practice!!" he said, hurriedly shutting off the camera and picking up his phone, his bag and running out to see you as he struggled to put on some shoes, rushing down his apartment...tripping over his own feet slightly as he ran, smiling down at your text.

"I love you too. More than a friend though :)"

© Mxkyu--e9e. I do not give permission to modify, translate, copy or repost ANY of my works. Reblogs are very much beloved!

[peachsukii]

Hollow Heart { chapter 1 - hurricane }

『♡』 pro-hero fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ pro-heroes au | friends to lovers ꒱ ♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist ♡

summary: The dynamic duo of Dynamight and Deku are unstoppable, climbing the hero charts like they always dreamed of as kids. Their journeys were tough, but offered them the world - fame, fortune, protection of their family and friends, a comfortable hero life. The recent increase in crime around Tokyo kept their entire sector busy, sending heroes out non-stop, desperate to keep the statistics as low as possible to maintain a clean reputation. When a nearby sector is requesting assistance, the boys are tasked with a mission to inspect a villain’s lair in a deserted area outside of the city. Reports have noted people going missing, specifically with rare quirks. With plenty of other heroes being unavailable, you’re chosen to tag along with the duo for the night operation. Everything is going according to plan until the villain lands a surprise attack, resulting in the your kidnapping and whisking you away through a mysterious portal. It’s been a month since your disappearance with no help of the hero agency. Bakugo and Midoriya take it into their own hands and are determined to get you back - no matter how long or what it takes. tags & warnings: mentions of blood/violence, eventual & mild smut, kidnapping/abduction, experimentation, physical & psychological torture, PTSD, implied/referenced self harm, cursing, talks of trauma | angst with happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, regret, mutual pining, friends to lovers, insomnia, eventual romance a/n: Prepare for the heartbreaking journey of Bakugo battling with his feelings when it’s too late…or is it? :) ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; ~20.6k as of ch.4 ꒱ Chapter 1 | Hurricane [5k] Chapter 2 | The Ghost of You [4.7k] Chapter 3 | Choke [3.9k] Chapter 4 | The Grey [6.7k] Chapter 5 | The Good Left Undone [4.7k] Chapter 6 | Tourniquet Chapter 7 | There is Fear in Letting Go 『♡』 this fic has a playlist! ✩

CHAPTER ONE: HURRICANE

A beautiful summer morning, rays of tangerine light poured into the living room of your apartment as you sleepily make your way to the kitchen, desperate for that first cup of coffee. The clock on the stove read 8:35AM - the latest you’ve overslept in the last month. It was another long night in the office, writing reports for your previous week’s hero patrols that you’d put off for far too long. You'd think someone else would be responsible for inputting notes into the agency's system, but no - anyone below rank 10 was tasked with entering in their own data. 

Criminal activity in the area had increased significantly within the last 3 months, calling heroes of all ranks out nonstop, especially lower ranked heroes. Was it annoying? Sure, being awoken in the middle of the night out of a dead sleep to go stop a small robbery at the local late-night supermarket wasn't ideal. Especially when you dreamed of dealing with bigger threats, akin to crime syndicates and large scale villain organizations. As a hero, you’re taught to tune out the small details and focus on what’s in front of you - keeping the citizens of your ward safe and sound, even if it's helping a granny cross the street in the middle of the afternoon.

The agency accepted you with open arms right out of UA High, over the moon to have a hero with a quirk like yours in their roster. Psionic energy manipulation was shockingly uncommon amongst the 80% of the population of quirk users. The kinetic hero, Y/H/N, ranked number 37 - high enough to earn respect from your peers and low enough to not have to worry about being followed by paparazzi and negotiating brand deals. Cities were full of billboards with ads sponsored by heroes, heavily focused on those in the top 10 for allure to their product. Deku and Dynamight’s athletic wear collaboration, Uravity’s mochi bites, Shouto’s fire and ice energy drinks - it was impossible to avoid. Did you wish you had the smallest bit of spotlight? Sometimes, but being able to walk the streets off-duty and not be bothered was a luxury you'd like to keep. On the counter, your phone buzzed and flashed awake, shaking you out of the sleepy stupor.

Incoming Call: Katsuki Bakugo 

A picture of you and Bakugo appeared on to the caller ID screen - one of your favorite pictures with him. It was from a concert in Shibuya you'd attended a few months back. His arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as he flipped off the camera, wearing his infamous toothy smirk as you leaned against him with a small peace sign and a warm smile. 

It's unfair how effortlessly attractive he was. Admittedly, you'd had a crush on him since high school and drank up every ounce of affection he threw your way over the years. Even though you've known him and Midoriya since childhood, your friendship didn't truly blossom until your first year in UA. Thanks to your tenacity and fighting spirit, he respected you after a long six months. That broke down his walls just enough to tolerate you and continue to be friends ever since. 

You, Midoriya, and Bakugo became three peas in pod, a strong bond established to last a lifetime. Post-UA life wasn’t as easy to see each other, but you made it work - trainings, missions, conflicting work schedules, and general life couldn’t get in between the three of you, even if it was just over texts, phone calls and late-night movie marathons. It helped that you all lived in Tokyo, at least. Midoriya, of course, was extremely special and essential to your life. He’s like the little brother you always wanted and a constant ray of sunshine, always there for whatever you need. There was just something different and special about your bond with Bakugo - a spark, without sounding cliche. And after all these years later, he's still your favorite person and one of your best friends. 

You wouldn't trade it for the world. Oh shit, I forgot we planned to go for a run this morning. You answer hesitantly, knowing full well you’re about to get an earful about being late. 

“Yo, Y/N, you plan on showin' up anytime soon?” There was shockingly no annoyance in his tone. “It’s almost 9.”

“Sorry Kat! I overslept. Had a long night writing reports in the office. I’ll be there in 10,” you say, not making any excuses. You hear a loud tch in response - ah, there’s the annoyance.

“I was about to bust down your door and give you a personal wake up call,” he teases, laughing to himself. “Get your ass to the park. See ya, lite-brite.” The line ended with a click. 

He'd never let that nickname go, one that followed you all the way back from high school. You'd grown used to it as he typically reserved it to get under your skin or light a fire under your ass. Most of the time? It worked - and you liked it.

Setting the coffee cup in the sink, you jog back into your room down the hallway and change into a clean set of workout clothes. You'd just gotten the PR package from Midoriya last week with his new sports wear collaboration with Bakugo, saving you time by not having to dig through your laundry pile. He would have scolded you for slacking on chores if he were to have woken you up in person, and then folded it himself to prove a point. He’d often harp on you for not keeping up with basic shit around your place, but in the same breath, start cleaning up for you - it was one of his love languages. 

The company they collaborated with nailed the designs perfectly. It was minimalistic, but still paid homage to their hero costumes. You grab Bakugo's set - a cropped black sleeveless hoodie with an orange 'X' across the front, a forest green band with a drawstring around the midsection, and an orange hood. The matching shorts were all black with a simple orange stripe down the sides. The neoprene material allowed for the set to breathe in any weather condition.

Thankfully, the park you were meeting him at was only a couple minute walk from your apartment building. Not long after pulling your hair into a ponytail, splashing your face with water and brushing your teeth, you're kicking on your sneakers by the door and shuffling out of the apartment. A few minutes to spare, you duck into the convenience store along the way, grabbing two sports drinks and a bag of his favorite spicy-flavored chips. God, you hated the taste of them and never understood why he liked them so much. Some part of you jokingly thought it fueled his already explosive personality, literally heating him up from the inside.

───

"You wear that on purpose?" Bakugo snickers over his phone as you skip toward him, pointing to your workout gear. 

"What can I say? It's comfortable. Happy to be a walking ad for the number four hero," you say, elbowing him in the arm. He rolls his eyes, snatching the sports drink you've outstretched to him and mutters a thanks. 

"You should model our next set," he pats you on the back. "You're the perfect fit." 

You scoff, waving a hand at him. "Yeah, like I'm model material."

"I literally just said you were, dumbass. Take a damn compliment!" 

He peers over your shoulder to see the chips in your bag. "Damn, you're really kissing up to me today. What's the occasion?" He's beaming over the attention you're showering him with - he'd never admit how much he loved it.

You shake your head playfully. "What, I can't spoil my favorite person?" 

Bakugo barks out a laugh while opening the sports drink and chugging half of it in one go. Again, it was stupid how attractive he was, no matter what he did. The summer breeze made his blonde locks dance lazily in the morning sun, a sheen on his flawless skin as some of the liquid spilled out of the corner of his mouth, trickling down his jawline. A sadistic part of you thought he did this shit on purpose to rile you up, testing the boundaries of your friendship. 

If only you had the nerve to just scream from the rooftops - Katsuki, I fucking love you.

“You good, Y/N?” He's waving a hand in front of your face. “Space case much?”

“Yeah! Sorry, apparently still waking up,” you apologize while stretching your arms over your head. “Let’s go!”

───

An hour later, you and Bakugo finish your run in the park, completely drenched in sweat. The two of you plop under a nearby tree in the shade, the humidity adding a layer of exhaustion to your depleted stamina. Lazily slouching over onto your shoulder, he steals the sports drink out of your hand and downs the rest of it himself with a satisfied hah. Somehow, you always forget that he smells like caramel and burnt sugar after a run, invading your senses with that sweet essence that you loved. His bangs stuck to the sweat on his forehead as he dropped his head back against the tree, eyes closed as he caught his breath. 

God, he’s so fucking beautiful, you think to yourself, almost afraid he'd somehow hear you.

"I'm free the rest of the day," he comments between shallow breaths, lazily opening one eye and elbowing your side. "Down for a movie day? Been awhile."

"Hell yeah. Junk food, too?" Your eyes light up with excitement.

"Like you gotta ask. I didn't run three fuckin' miles just to look good," he quips. "Cool if I shower at your place?"

That catches you off guard, sending a flutter of butterflies off in your stomach. Why the hell are you so riled up today? Sure, you've had a massive crush on your best friend for ages, but its usually not this intense. Must be the scent of his sweat deluding your thoughts...or maybe it’s the potential scene of watching him walk out into your living room, shirtless - excess water cascading down his hourglass figure, tracing his abs and settling into the hem of his sweatpants.

Stop it! Calm the fuck down.

"S-sure. I have a pair of your sweats, I think…maybe Izuku’s? It’s like you guys leave your shit at my place so I do your laundry for free." 

He shoves you jokingly, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Hah! Knew it was you who stole my favorite pair. I’ve got shit with me, no worries.”

Bakugo climbs to his feet, extending a hand back to you. “C’mon, I’m fucking starving and dying to do nothing the rest of the day.”

───

The sunset’s sorbet-colored afterglow flooded the living room as the fourth movie’s credits rolled on the TV screen, a faint warm breeze coming through the open balcony door. The two of you had settled in after your run, marathoning through a collection of films you'd be wanting to watch, surrounded by a buffet of comfort food - taiyaki, meat buns, spicy fried chicken bites, mabo tofu, yakitori, and a box full of various flavors of dango. The cashier at the convenience store must have thought you two were hosting an insane party with how much food you bought, cleaning out their entire hot foods section in minutes. 

Bakugo stretched out like a cat, his abs flexing as his black tank top moved up his midsection. It was impossible not to stare, especially when he wore cropped shirts, showing off his hard earned muscles. You found it ironic how you mentioned once - and only once - how crop tops on guys are attractive as hell, and a few weeks later? He had a handful of them that he’d rotate wearing during the summer, claiming he only wears them for “regulating his temperature for his quirk.” You knew that was a bold-faced lie, but never called him on it. Why would you risk making him change his mind when they looked so good on him? 

He let out a satisfactory groan, putting his feet up on the coffee table and hands behind his head. You stretch as well, throwing your feet in his lap like always. Bakugo looked comfortable, like he was at home. You were home to him.

“I got somethin’ on my face?” He jokes, lolling his head to face you. 

Lost in thought, you have no time to stop the words falling from your mouth.

“No, just admiring you.”

Bakugo quirks an eyebrow, surprised by your flattery. You see a faint pink blush begin to make it’s way across his cheeks, an extremely rare sight.

“Th-thanks,” is all he can muster to say in a low voice. 

“Is that so weird to say? You’re gorgeous, Katsuki,” you blurt out, shocked by your own words. Where the hell is this coming from? You normally weren't so...forward. Not that you were lying in any capacity. You've complimented him plenty times before, why is now different? 

Right?

You pause, realizing you could be overwhelming him. He'd always been adamant on how much he hates when "fans" view him as just a sex object rather than respect him as a heroic figure. 

“I know you hate being objectified. I’m sorry -,”

“Don’t be, y’didn't.” 

The static of the TV hummed through the lull in your conversation, the credits of the last movie approaching the end of its sequence. You nervously fiddle with the hem of your shirt. Thank fuck he can't hear your thoughts.

Bakugo notices your nervous tick and grins. That damn shit-eating grin. 

"Relax, Y/N. I didn't say I didn't like it. Big difference between you and a fan girl sayin' shit like that." 

As he’s about to continue the conversation, both of your phones ring simultaneously. That’s weird…it’s 8:30PM on a Tuesday night. Neither of you were scheduled for patrol and all sectors had coverage from the last e-mail update. You pull your phone out to check the caller ID and sigh in annoyance.

Incoming Call: AGENCY - EMERGENCY LINE

“The fuck?” Bakugo huffs, his brow furrowed in confusion. 

───

After 15 minutes, you're debriefed with a new mission, and strangely, you’re assigned with none other than Bakugo and Midoriya. This was extremely uncommon for heroes of top 10 rank to work with those below rank 25 and only happened when other top 10 heroes are too busy. Emergency calls were normally automated messages, but this was a personal conference call from the board of directors.

We are in need of Y/H/N to assist Dynamight and Deku’s mission to stake out a villain’s laboratory tonight in Sector 42. We’ve received reports of civilians going missing near the area over the last few weeks, specifically those with uncommon and rare quirks. There is a probability that hostages are being using for the development of a secret serum, to which is unknown at this time. Report to the agency by 11:30PM for further instruction.

Man, you were really looking forward to more time with Bakugo. Granted, you’ll still be with him, but now you’ll be stalking around for work, not stuffing your face on the couch together.

“Kat, I don’t know what it is, but I…I have a really weird feeling about this stake out,” you admit, unsure of where this anxiety is coming from. This isn’t the first time you’ve been assigned to a mission like this, and certainly won’t be the last, there was just something odd in the air surrounding this one. 

“Yeah. Go grab your suit, I’ll call Izuku to meet us here and we'll go over together,” Bakugo says hesitantly, already dialing Midoriya and bringing his phone to his ear. 

“Hey, yeah just got the call. Y/N and I are at her apartment, swing by and we'll go to the agency together.”

───

By 11:45PM, the three of you are suited up and stationed in Sector 42. The area was very…barren? It was confusing to you how people would wander out here and disappear. It was in the middle of nowhere, miles from the city limits, an open field surrounded by a spotty tree line. Something still felt off about this entire set up - a gut feeling, but it was enough to keep you on edge.

“Y/N?” Midoriya called to you, blinking with concern. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.”

You rub your temple, desperately trying to push the feeling down. 

“Sorry, Izu. I’ve had a gut feeling something was wrong since the phone call.”

“What do you mean?” His interest is peaked, both out of curiosity and concern. 

“Can’t place it, but I feel it, too. Something’s not right,” Bakugo chimed in, surveying the field for any signs of…whatever the hell it was they’re looking for. An entrance to a lab? Masked minions abducting people? The agency was extremely vague in their details. That didn’t sit well with you, and Bakugo now, too. 

“You’re not wrong. This is an open area in the middle of nowhere. Why would anyone wander out here alone?” Midoriya muttered, continuing a conversation with his own thoughts aloud. “It's not a common road for travel, by foot or by vehicle. And how would the agency know what this villain is making without having the location of the lab in question?”

The abrupt sound of creaking metal echoed around you, a sense of danger spiking in your nerves. You place a hand on the shoulder of both Midoriya and Bakugo to halt them in their tracks.

“Did you hear that? It sounded like a door was opening…close by,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Whoosh!

You didn’t register there was another presence amongst you until the dart made contact with your skin. A warming sensation flowed through your right shoulder as you let out a cry, stumbling to your knee. What the fuck? Your hero suit was designed to prevent piercing damage to a degree, but this dart cut right through it. The dart resembled a syringe, automatically activating the injection mechanism as it pierced your skin.

“Y/N!” Midoriya shouted, immediately wrapping an arm around your waist to whisk you away from another potential attack. Bakugo whipped his head around, looking for any sign of where the dart came from. Was someone hiding, or was it a device hidden out of sight? Maybe in a nearby tree? That's not possible, these trees don't have enough leaves for coverage like that.

“Hold still, I’m going to pull it out,” Midoriya warned. You braced for the pain as he yanked the dart from your shoulder, tossing it out of reach. You wince, the sting slowly fading a few seconds later. “Are you feeling okay?”

Things were starting to feel fuzzy, the ache spreading rapidly through the rest of your body. Everything felt warm and cold simultaneously, as if your body was at war over what temperature to settle on. 

“I’m alright, just…dizzy,” you mumble, slurring as you attempt to reassure him.

Midoriya helps you to your feet, offering to let you use him as support. You wave a hand, muttering over and over again I’m fine, I’m fine. There’s a pulsing sensation starting to build in your shoulder, creeping its way through your right arm. It’s tingling, crawling - uncomfortable, but not painful. What the hell was in that dart? 

A flash of black invades your vision, throwing you off balance as things pixelate and sharpen repeatedly before completely disappearing. Things are spinning and your senses are dulling. You notice that you don’t hear Bakugo or Midoriya anymore…did they wander off? You should be able to hear explosions, gusts of wind, crackling energy - something.

A force knocks you on your back, slamming you to the ground. You don’t feel a damn thing, just a vague numbness as your body, what you presume, hits the ground. You can’t make out whatever, or whoever, it is that is attacking you. I still can’t hear anything! Can you speak? Can anyone hear you even if you could?

…Y…N! …Y/N!

A voice? It’s muffled, but you hear someone calling for you. Was that Midoriya?

“Let her go, jackass!”

Oh no, that’s Bakugo. 

His booming voice reverberates through your head, sending your thoughts whirling in a vortex more than they already were. A vision of the battlefield was starting coming into focus, hazy, but a semblance of scenery was making its way back to you. When did I get up from the ground? Didn't I get knocked down? 

The field before you was littered with debris.

…Branches and broken stumps of dead trees.

…Craters in the ground.

…are those broken pieces of Bakugo’s gauntlets? 

…patchy trails and puddles of blood soaking into the dirt.

The sights sent a chill up your spine - your gut instinct was right. 

To your right, Midoriya panted with force as he held onto his thigh, blood seeping through his suit and staining around the wound. He was close enough that you could see the detailing of his tendons exposed from the impact, frayed pieces of skin hanging from the damage. His hair was slicked back, matted with a mix of, what you think, is dirt and blood. The rest of his suit had a variety of slashes and cuts, the material tattered and torn all over his body.

To your left, Bakugo’s on the ground, battered and bruised as he’s struggling to get to his feet. His gauntlets were missing, along with the glove underneath on his right hand. His exposed forearm was beat red, what looked like hand prints blistering the area. Blood trickled from his forehead and pooled under his mask. He’s shouting again…you can’t quite make out what he’s saying as he’s extending his bare arm in your direction.

What the fuck happened?! 

Something inside you clicks abruptly, adrenaline surging, urging you to fight. It’s competing with the numbness in your muscles. How much damage have you taken if you can’t feel a damn thing?

Fuck. Come on, dammit. Move, fight - do something! Help them!

In your peripheral vision, a man appears beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turn on your heel, ready to activate your quirk and blast this guy into oblivion. Your hand meets his clothed chest with a thump.

Nothing happens. 

Your quirk doesn’t activate.

Another swing, focusing all the energy you have into a concentrated blast.

Nothing.

Panic sets in as you study your hand, mortified that you’ve been rendered useless. Your mind is racing faster than you can keep up with. Is this the serum they talked about earlier? How long was I unconscious...was I even unconscious? 

And then it dawns on you - it’s a quirk suppressant. 

The serum they’re using to abduct people nullifies their quirks to make them a willing target.

The mystery man cups your chin, forcing you to look up at him. Your vision tunnels on his face, the rest of your body shutting back down. You feel your arms flop to their sides as your knees begin to buckle - the adrenaline being zapped from your muscles at his touch. 

“Good, it’s setting in. You’ll be a decent specimen. We’ve been waiting for a psionics user like you to add to our roster.”

A giant swirl of matter begins to manifest in front of you, a gentle force sucking you closer to it’s entry point. You can't help but think about how helpless you look in this moment, confused as hell that this scrawny man could take down three heroes with ease. You fucking hated the feeling, never wanting to be the damsel in distress. It pissed you off beyond belief.

“It’s time.” The man, in what you can now see is a white lab coat, turns you around to face the boys sprawled on the battlefield. “We’ll be going now.”

Every inch of your body is screaming run. But you can’t. You can’t move, paralyzed by all the conflicting effects of the serum running rampant through your veins. Your vision is dimming once more, your eyes threaten to close as Bakugo’s voice drags you back to reality. Your eyes snap open as he appears in front of you, digging his heels into the dirt. 

“Hey, wake up! I’m not letting you go!” 

He’s screaming at the top of his lungs, pleading for you to hear him as he clutches your forearm, attempting to pull you to him. You can’t feel it, but by the strain shown in his bicep, he’s using all of his strength to hold onto you. His eyes are full of panic, wide and bloodshot, crimson irises aflame.

"Let her fucking go!" he roars a second time. His hand is slipping down your forearm, now desperately gripping onto your hand. You attempt to grasp it to no avail, your strength failing you. You hear him let out an anxious grunt, struggling against the force of whatever is pulling you away behind you.

Time seems to slow as you lock eyes, an exchange of unspoken words between you two. A sense of dread begins to flood through your body as you see tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

He's terrified. 

You remember a thought from earlier in the day, if only I could scream "I love you."

There will never be a perfect moment, never a time and place for you to say it. You have to create the moment yourself.

A steady breath escapes you, softly gazing at Bakugo as you see his fingers slipping through your own.

"Katsuki," you mouth, barely able to hear the sound of your own voice.

"I love you."

The last thing you see is Bakugo frantically scrambling toward you before darkness envelops your sight.

- - - BAKUGO POV - - -

Everything happened in the blink of a fucking eye.

Ambushed, both him and Midoriya were hazed with a mysterious smoke, rendering their quirks useless. His explosions fizzled out as he fought the onslaught of henchmen surrounding them, armed with various weapons. The two of them blitzed through a good number of them before quickly becoming overwhelmed - 25 on 2 wasn't ideal odds.

Their hero suits were ripped, equipment shattered as they were punched, kicked, stabbed at, battered, and thrown around.

"I don't need my fuckin' quirk to kick your asses!" Bakugo threatened as he swiped at a nameless henchmen, nailing a right hook to his jaw. Midoriya was holding his own behind him until he let out an agonizing yelp, falling to the ground audibly.

"Deku!" Bakugo called out, spinning in the direction of his cry as someone socked him from the left side. He skid onto the ground, particles of dirt trailing behind him.

Regaining his composure, he looked around to see that all of the henchmen had swiftly disappeared without a trace, as if they were never there in the first place. What the fuck?

He saw her body standing still, some man in a lab coat behind her. She resembled a lifeless puppet, the light from her eyes dim and limbs loosely at her sides. It looked as though she could collapse at any moment.

"Let her go, jackass!" Bakugo shouted, unable to get to his feet.

The unknown man gripped her shoulder as a large black mass appeared behind them. 

Is that a portal? That looks like Kurogiri's quirk from years ago, he thought to himself, willing every fiber of his being to get to his fucking feet.

He's able to muster enough strength get one knee off the ground, enough to launch in range of her and wildly grasp for her hand. 

“Hey, wake up! I’m not letting you go!” 

Bakugo doesn't realize he's screaming, he's acting on impulse and adrenaline - desperation to save her. His hand is slipping at an agonizingly slow pace, moving from forearm to her hand, hardly able to keep his hand clasped with hers. He's cursing internally, hoping that she can't see the terror in his eyes, the anxiety filling him to the brim. That's when he hears her speak, her voice hauntingly quiet.

"Katsuki, I love you."

His hand slips away, watching her disappear into the portal. It closes in an instant as he's hopelessly dashing to it, not noticing that Midoriya is charging from behind him. They briefly collide, stumbling from the impact before they both steady themselves. 

The silence surrounding them is deafening.

"Kacchan," Midoriya snivels, head hung low. "I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough to help." His voice was breaking, clenching his fists at his side.

Bakugo stares at his hand, collapsing to his knees. He felt nauseous, the crippling realization churning in his stomach.

I love you.

Her voice ricocheted through his head, bouncing around as it tugged hard at his heartstrings. An overwhelming sensation of loss fills his heart, refusing to come to terms with the current reality. 

A brief memory flooded into Bakugo's mind, reminding him of a feeling he'd long shoved away. One night - years ago - at his brand new apartment in Tokyo, they'd been up all night talking after the long day of moving his shit into the place. It was 3AM, boxes piled everywhere as they laid in his bed, bullshitting the night away with random talks of life. She started a vulnerable conversation of mental health amongst heroes, ranging from her own family issues and medicated struggles as examples of not knowing what people deal with beneath the surface. He'd been listening, watching as she poured her heart out next to him, able to smile through it all. It was in that moment that struck him like lightning - he'd fallen madly and irrevocably in love with her. He had convinced himself there was no way she would have felt the same, forcing himself to suffocate that feeling for years.

And he was wrong.

Midoriya crouched down beside him as he's lost in the memory, a hand on his shoulder. 

"We'll find her, Kacchan, don't worry," he attempts to declare confidently as his own tears are staining his cheeks. "She's strong, she'll be -,"

"She said she loved me." Bakugo's facade was shattering before his eyes as he watched his best friend crumble onto the ground, clutching his chest. He couldn't control the wail that escaped him, tears pouring from his eyes like the downpour of a rainstorm. 

Midoriya pulled him close, Bakugo falling limply into him, curling into a ball as they sobbed together.

and thus begins the traumatic story of bakugo and midoriya losing their best friend to a mystery portal to nowhere!

Divider by : @/saradika

[anto-pops]

Secrets - Ominis Gaunt x Female! Reader

Summary: After slinking out of Hogwarts for five long, stressful hours in the dead of night, you returned to a pissed off Ominis who is beyond fed up with your blatant disregard for your well being. The last thing he wants to do is let you off easy, so he patches you up and elects to 'punish' you for your infuriating secrecy.

Alternatively summarized as really, really shameless Dominis smut.

Yes, this is the most gratuitous thing I've ever written. No, I will not be taking questions at this time.

Word Count: 9.5k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, rough sex (seriously)

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 with much more informative tags

It was well after midnight by the time you returned to Hogwarts. You would have come back sooner if it had been up to you— seeing as you weren’t particularly keen on slinking through the school’s deserted corridors in the dark. But you were tired, bruised, and lacking a good amount of blood that had left your body through the deep slice in your leg, so naturally you moved slowly.

At least with the late hour, you would be able to avoid Ominis. There was no way you could deal with his particular brand of ire right now. 

You didn’t mean to keep these things from him, but he was a chronic worrier. Every time you left the castle walls for something– be it for potions ingredients, or to help out in a nearby village– Ominis would grouse about it. While he knew you could handle yourself in most situations, he was convinced that you continued putting yourself in danger simply because it was the only thing you were used to. From the moment you entered his world in your fifth-year, you had been fighting for your life and solving other people’s problems without so much as a spare thought for yourself.

He made it very clear to you that he wasn’t a fan of your heroism. “It’s not your job to fix everything,” he had told you one night after you missed dinner to take on an entire Poacher camp by yourself. 

You knew that. But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t at least try to help where you could. 

Which was precisely why you had agreed to travel to Marunweem in the first place. The town’s doctor had sent you an owl requesting your assistance after a caravan of medical supplies was raided by Ashwinders. The grimy bastards had holed up in a cave a mile outside of the village for the better part of a month and had been robbing its denizens left and right, leaving the townsfolk too terrified to leave their homes and run the risk of getting hounded. 

Finding the slippery fuckers had been easy enough. What you hadn’t counted on was the second group of them that returned to the camp half-way through dispatching the first bunch. Their arrival had caught you off guard, which was the only reason one of the Scouts succeeded in hitting you with a Diffindo charm when your back was turned. You had been effectively handicapped for the remainder of the fight, limping around to dodge more curses and charms alike, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. In the end, you had made it out victorious, leaving a pile of Ashwinder bodies behind in your wake. 

Climbing the staircase to the Astronomy Wing was a trial in and of itself; your leg stung fiercely every time you lifted your knee to take another step, the torn skin pulling uncomfortably and throbbing with every minute movement you made. You were all too grateful to reach the top landing, the massive, oak entryway to the Room of Requirement revealing itself before you’d even reached the wall. A small mercy.

The heavy door swung shut behind you as you limped straight from the entrance over to your potion’s table. There was only one thing on your mind, and you already knew you had no vials of Wiggenweld left, so you started methodically gathering what you needed to brew a fresh batch. You lit the burner and added Horklump Juice to the cauldron first, letting that simmer over low heat while you riffled through a drawer to grab a rag. 

“Aguamenti,” you murmured under your breath, saturating the cloth with water before firmly pressing it against the jagged gash in your thigh. The fibers burned the raw skin underneath, but you grit your teeth through the pain, whimpering softly as you turned back to your Wiggenweld potion. Healing magic was always something that had eluded you– despite your best efforts– and as a result, you didn’t trust yourself to properly stitch your skin back together with a spell.

As you picked out a handful of Dittany to toss into the bubbling mixture, the telltale sound of clothing shuffling reached your ears. After the hellish night you’d just lived through, your instincts had you whirling around with your free hand hovering inches away from your side, ready to draw your wand from its holster in a heartbeat. 

It was Ominis. Shit.

He was sitting on the couch on the opposite side of the room, bathed in the silvery moonlight that streamed through the skylight overhead. Your tunnel vision upon entering the room had allowed you to overlook his presence entirely– but he’d also made no move to make himself known. His sharp, angular features were drawn into a tense expression, and his fingers tapped impatiently against his crossed legs, betraying just how pissed he actually was. 

Fuck. 

“Ominis, what are you doing just sitting there? You scared me, why didn’t you say something?” Your heart hammered against your sternum so hard, you were certain that he could hear it. 

“What am I doing?” Ominis’ voice was like a whip, cutting through the air as viscerally as the Diffindo charm that had sliced your leg. “How about you tell me where you’ve been for the last five hours, or why you’re bleeding out and trying to fix it with a potion instead of going to the Hospital Wing?”

There was a split second where you considered denying his claims, but you knew it was pointless. He had likely heard you mewling and smelled the blood the moment you walked through the doors— and besides, lying would only upset him further. “I had to deal with a few Ashwinders in Marunweem,” you confessed, wanting desperately to leave it at that so you could focus on dealing with your leg.  

Ominis finally stood from the couch, his imposing presence amplifying as he strode across the chamber with his wand clutched tight in his white knuckled grip. “Since when are ‘a few’ Ashwinders getting the jump on you? Don’t sugarcoat the truth, I’m in no mood for your tip-toeing.”

You sighed as the blond planted himself directly in front of you, the slender fingers of his free hand reaching for your shoulder, and once he found you, he followed your arm down to where you held the rag against your thigh. His brows slammed down at the grating confirmation that yes– you were hurt, and he tsked disapprovingly before nodding over your shoulder at the potion’s table. “Sit down, I’ll do it– and turn off the burner.” 

Once again, you found yourself hesitating, if only because your pride had never allowed you to easily accept assistance from other people. But the rigid set to Ominis’ shoulders had you complying relatively quickly, afraid that if you protested him helping, he would really let you have it. So you cranked the burner knob to the off position, then shuffled over to the other end of the table. 

A soft hiss slipped through your teeth as you shifted to hoist yourself onto the flat surface, the movement pulling at your wound painfully, and you instantly felt Ominis’ warm hands around your waist. He helped you hop up on the table, letting you get settled as he pried the rag away from your thigh. His ministrations were soft and thoughtful; a stark contrast to the unyielding, vexed expression on his face. 

Your trousers hung in tatters around your injured leg, fluttering listlessly around your calf, so Ominis tore the remaining fabric away and discarded it to the floor. His wand flared briefly as he summoned a collection of Wiggenweld potions beside you, handing one to you soundlessly. 

As you worked the cork out of the top, you muttered, “When did you brew these?” 

“I didn’t,” Ominis replied evenly, taking the damp cloth from your trembling fingers to re-saturate it with water. You jolted in place when he pressed it to your thigh, but the tender sweep of his thumb across your unmarred knee soothed you instantly. “They’re technically Sebastian’s. I’m sure he’ll be less than pleased to find them missing from his trunk, but he’ll understand.”

Humming your acknowledgment, you finally popped open the vial and knocked back its contents, relaxing into the table as the liquid warmed your insides and worked its magic. When Ominis pulled the rag away from your leg, you were pleased to find that the bleeding had subsided significantly, but the skin was torn too deep to fully stitch back together after one dose of Wiggenweld. 

The blond lifted his wand to cast a diagnostic spell, setting the blood-soaked cloth off to the side before a lyrical chant slipped from his lips. Vulnera Sanentur was far from an easy spell to cast– much less master– but Ominis did it without a second thought, never once lifting his head as he expertly worked to mend your skin. You knew that he had taken to studying healing magic after your sixth-year, but you hadn’t actually seen Ominis use any of what he’d learned until now. The feeling of your skin pulling together was strange, but not uncomfortable, and you watched wide-eyed as the gaping wound closed up and left only a faint, pink scar behind. 

“When did you become so proficient with healing spells?” You asked him as he stood straight, summoning a few Dittany leaves into the palm of his hand. He twisted them between his fingers and wafted the scent towards his face before holding them out to you. 

“Around the same time you and Sebastian started using yourselves as shields in Crossed Wands. Now hold these on top of the area for a bit, otherwise the scar will linger,” he instructed you matter-of-factly, and his stern tone made your shoulders sag. You truly hated it when he was upset with you. 

“I really am sorry, Ominis.” You muttered remorsefully as you accepted the leaves, and his brows pinched together at the sound of your dejected tone. “I didn’t mean to upset you with all of this–”

“I’m getting rather tired of sitting idly by while you throw yourself into danger. What is it going to take for you to realize that what you’re doing is incredibly careless? What happens when the next spell hits a little higher and kills you, hm? What would I do then?” His frustration rolled off of him in thick, potent waves that made your stomach churn with anxiety.

“Ominis please, I know you care about me, but there are things I’m obligated to do– especially as a wielder of this ancient magic. No one else can do what I can–” 

“I really don’t care about everyone else,” he practically growled the statement and closed the miniscule space between the two of you so that he could brace his arms on either side of your hips, caging you between his long, lithely muscled arms. “All I care about is you and your wellbeing, but you have this infuriating ability to do the exact opposite of what I ask. Why? Sometimes I get the feeling you see me as more of a chastising parent than your boyfriend.” 

Hearing that made you scowl, “That’s absurd, of course I don’t see you that way. I just hate to worry you with these things–”

“Well, I am worried. I’ve been worried. You used to be more careful about these excursions of yours, but now you’re beyond reckless. You used to listen to reason and now you’re too stubborn for your own good.” His eyes were like burning pools of moonlight, piercing through your very soul as he leaned forward to trail his hand up your arm and across your shoulder. “I have a growing distaste for your rebellious streak. Why must you insist on being so disobedient?” 

Something about the word disobedient had your retort shriveling up in your throat, and your mouth snapped shut with an audible clack of teeth while your eyes flickered between Ominis’. His expression was drawn tight, but there was something else there– something domineering about the way he spoke to you. You’d seen this side of Ominis before, but it had been a long time since you’d actually done anything that worked him into such a state. Uncertainty washed over you like a bucket of cold water, and you swallowed around a lump in your throat. 

Ominis’ hand on your shoulder continued to rise, the tips of his fingers ghosting over your clammy skin until they splayed outwards and he was holding you loosely by the neck. There was no helping your startled gasp at the brazen move, and you stared wide-eyed up at him as your nails dug into the surface of the table. Your silence was palpable, as was the shiver that coursed through you, and Ominis acknowledged both of those things with a taunting smirk. 

“What, nothing to say now? Has it sunk in? Have I finally gotten through that ironclad head of yours?” 

You honestly didn’t know what the hell was going on in your head. Things had shifted so suddenly that now instead of feeling remorseful for aggravating your boyfriend, you were keenly interested in seeing what treatment you’d won yourself by doing so. “I-I’m sorry, Ominis–” 

He tightened his hand briefly to angle your head to the side, pulling another gasp from your parted lips, and he hunched forward to nuzzle his face into the crook of your exposed neck. You could feel his lips smiling against your pulse, betraying exactly what he had in mind for you, and you whimpered pitifully under him. 

“I didn’t ask if you were sorry, I asked if I made myself clear; I don’t like you putting yourself in harm's way, but I especially loathe it when you try to keep things from me.” You felt the pinprick of his nails digging into the soft skin below your jaw– not overbearingly tight– but it made you acutely aware of the placement of every one of his fingers, and the sensation had your heart skipping beats one after another. 

“I know, I understand,” you whispered, your voice airy and fleeting. “I wasn’t going out of my way to keep secrets– I just came here to take care of my leg, I wasn’t expecting you to be waiting for me–”

His teeth nipped at the skin of your neck, pulling another gasp from your throat and cutting your rebuttal short  “Would you have told me about it if I hadn’t caught you slinking in here tonight?” 

“E-Eventually–” you started to say, and in a flash Ominis was pulling away from you to glare fixedly in your direction. His grip on your throat stayed gentle but firm as he angled your face back to his, and one of your own hands finally shot up from the surface of the table to wrap around his slender wrist. 

“No lying,” he hissed, nearing closer so that his lips were mere inches away from yours. “You and I both know you would sooner tangle with Devil’s Snare before telling me you’ve been galavanting through the Highlands taking on dark wizards by yourself.”

“I would have,” you bit back at him, the conviction in your tone making him draw pause. “Maybe I would have omitted a few details, but yes, I would have told you. I don’t make a habit of not telling you things.”

“And yet, here we are.” The ghost of his breath danced across your lips, your mind flooding with unrestrained fantasies and ideas that were made all the more potent at the feeling of his thumb brushing against the curve of your jaw. “Sometimes I feel like the only way to keep you out of trouble would be to restrain you and lock you away in your bedroom. At least then I could make sure you stay safe.” 

You hated arguing with Ominis. You despised making him doubt your sincerity. It made you anxious anytime you knew he was upset with you, in large part because he got angry with you so rarely. But right now, an offhand comment like that was doing more to frazzle you and fuel a slew of unholy thoughts that had no business existing at the same time he was scolding you. 

What the fuck was wrong with you? 

Ominis elected to release his hold on your throat at that moment, jarring you from your thoughts, and he dropped the appendage to your thigh. Your breathing hitched when he trailed his palm lightly over where your wound had been minutes earlier, and he shook his head disapprovingly at you. The scar was still evident under his touch– the Dittany leaves he’d given you still gripped loosely in your fist, unused. 

“How does your leg feel? Any other wounds I need to know about?” He asked you, almost somewhat… cunningly. 

The sudden change in topic wasn’t unusual, but it was the way he presented the question that made you pause before answering. You decided to humor him and testingly lifted your knee, pleased to find that doing so didn’t cause you burning pain any longer. “No, and it’s a lot better actually. Thank you.”

He seemed to contemplate his next words carefully, his wand-bearing hand sliding up your forearm to lightly grasp your elbow as the other skirted higher up your leg, stopping to toy with the frayed fabric of your torn trousers. “Don’t thank me yet. Come with me.”

In a flash, Ominis had tugged you off of the table, his grip on your arm like a vice as he began leading you further into the Room. “Ah– Merlin, Ominis, what are you doing?” You nearly tripped over your own feet, but the blond’s unrelenting hold on you kept you upright as he pulled you behind him down the narrow staircase that led to the larger portion of the vast chamber. 

“Such simple instructions and yet you fail to follow them,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “At this point, I’m convinced you’re doing it on purpose to get a rise out of me, so consider this your punishment.”

Ominis knew exactly where to steer you when he reached the bottom step– with or without his wand– and the nervousness you felt was greatly overshadowed by the ripe anticipation that blossomed in your gut. He threw his shoulder against the door to the bedroom to shove it open before hauling you through the entryway, immediately getting to work to show you exactly what sort of ‘punishment’ he had in mind. 

—

“Stop whining and use your words.” 

Ominis’ sharp voice cut off your guttural moan, and he removed his hand from your throbbing core once again, killing your building release for the nth time tonight. You couldn’t help it; you sobbed at the loss. The imposing blond man leaned forward, whispering his response along your jaw slowly and playfully nipping at the skin as he moved down. “The sooner you apologize, the sooner we can cease this incessant game.” 

You’d been here for some time already, sprawled out on your shared bed in the Room of Requirement with Ominis circling you like a hawk. Every so often he would elect to touch you again, giving you a modicum of reprieve from the burning tension between your legs, but not before pulling his fingers away right as you were on the cusp of your climax. The two of you had been going at it for close to an hour now, and it was suffice to say you were losing your fucking mind. 

Your wrists had been tied snug together and bound above your head, rendering your hands useless as your boyfriend toyed with you to his heart’s content. You were a flushed, panting mess underneath him, hopelessly writhing against the sheets in search of more of anything. The ache between your legs was tantamount to torture.

As you drew your knees together in a feeble attempt to create some friction for yourself, Ominis felt you fidgeting and sat up to stop you in your tracks. His long, elegant fingers gripped both of your legs and spread them apart, leaving you fully exposed to him as a throaty whine sounded from your lips. 

“Please, Ominis–” your raspy voice cracked on his name, drawing a dark chuckle from him that sent a thrill down your spine. 

“I don’t know why you’re begging when you know you should be apologizing,” he chidded you, tilting his head to the side to cast a taunting look in your direction. “I know what you want, but what about what I want?” 

“I-I already said I was sorry,” you gritted through your teeth, momentarily grateful that Ominis couldn’t see the piercing glare you fixed him with. How many times did he want you to say it? “What more do you want me to do?” 

He moved into your space so fast, it made you gasp and press harder into the mattress. His eyes were stormy and swimming with emotion as he growled, “I want you to mean it. Every word. Apologize for keeping secrets and for making me worry– then you can start begging me to come.”

Ominis brought his hands to your chest to drag his blunt nails lightly down your front, stopping the appendages over your pert nipples to pinch the sensitive buds, and your stuttered apology caught in your throat at the feeling. “Hah– I am sorry Ominis, I really am. I’m sorry I scared you, I’ll tell you everything from now on– n-no more secrets– ah–”

The wet warmth of Ominis’ mouth came over one of your nipples, followed by the sharp sting of his teeth clamping down, and it had you moaning and arching into him further. You heard his throaty laugh, blearily lifting your head in an attempt to get a better look at him, but he was already moving back to sit on his heels with his hands tracing burning circles on your legs.  

“Hm, that sounds better,” Ominis murmured down at you, trailing his fingers tentatively over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You had half a mind to shift your hips closer to him– desperate to finally have your release after so long– but you knew doing so would just set you back even further. The urge to please Ominis any way you could was bone deep, so you fought down the desire to move, remaining a twitching, keening mess atop the sheets. 

“Please,” you whined softly, tugging pathetically on the rope bindings around your wrists. “I want you so badly Ominis, gods– I want you to fuck me, make me cum for you. P-Please, Ominis, please.” 

He didn’t respond at first, his hands stilling against your legs as he swallowed around the lump in his throat. You sounded divine begging for him like this. It almost made him want to cave early and finally give you what you wanted… but that would be too easy, especially considering it was your sneaking around that had landed the two of you in this position in the first place. 

No, he intended on playing with you a little while longer before wrapping things up. 

“You know I like taking my time,” Ominis purred down at you, and there was no missing the teasing undertone to his voice. 

The tension in your gut seemed to worsen in that instant, and you honestly could have cried. 

Ominis’ hands left your thighs to brace on either side of you as he leaned forward, a predatory glint in his milky blue eyes. His head dropped into the hollow of your throat, flicking the tip of his clever tongue against your pulse before licking a broad stripe down the vulnerable column of your neck. You shuddered at the bold move, whimpering at the expression he bore when he pulled back to smooth down your hair affectionately. 

“So I will take my time fucking you, and you’d best believe I’ll have you screaming my name so loud you won’t be able to speak afterwards. I’ll bend you in half– fuck you so hard that we break the damn bed– and you know what?” 

It took you a second to realize he was asking you a question, but the most coherent response you could muster was a soft whine. It was enough. 

“When you’re shaking under me, fucked out and sensitive from finally getting to come…” Ominis smiled, licking his lips as he bent forward again to whisper devilishly in your ear, “I’ll keep fucking you, hard and fast until you’re brainless and drooling and all you can think about or say is my name.” 

You were positive you were already brainless. The filthy, wicked promises dripping from Ominis’ mouth left plenty to the imagination, and you were a damn good visualizer. With a low growl, he sank his teeth into the curve of your shoulder, biting and sucking an angry mark into your clammy skin. You moaned in earnest, all too pleased to finally be moving forward with things. You didn’t think you’d ever wanted to come so bad in your fucking life. 

When Ominis pulled away, you half expected him to start marking up the other side of your neck, but instead he backed off to shift around and swing one of his knees over your bare chest. He held himself precariously over you, refraining from smothering you with his body weight, and in doing so you were faced with Ominis’ straining, confined arousal mere inches from your lips. You huffed out a needy breath. 

“Be a good girl and take it out,” he instructed, a coy smirk stretching across his face.

You squinted up at him then, giving the rope around your wrists a pointed tug, and he felt the motion reverberate through your prone form. He only laughed at you, shifting slightly to rub his clothed erection against your lips teasingly. 

“Use your mouth if you can’t use your hands.” 

It took you a second, but when you finally understood, your mouth parted on a long, low moan as your hips wriggled excitedly. Taking a moment to collect yourself, you drew in a deep breath before zeroing in on the catch of your boyfriend’s trousers. You surged forward and dragged your tongue up the thick outline of his cock, tracing along his undoubtedly uncomfortable arousal until you were kissing your way up the fly to the button. 

Ominis just listened, half amused and half extremely turned on as you struggled to figure out your plan of attack. You nuzzled briefly against his groin before throwing caution to the wind and deciding to just go for it. Hooking your front teeth over the edge of the fabric above the button, you absolutely allowed them to scrape over Ominis’ light happy trail, relishing in the shiver it drew from him. You tugged the material down, and with a helpful push of your tongue, you managed to get the button through the catch. 

You didn’t bother to hide your excitement; a giddy noise weasled it’s way past your lips, and you grinned smugly to yourself. Ever the perceptive one, Ominis felt his waistband loosen and gently raked his fingers through your mused hair in silent praise. That was the extent of his congratulations, though, before he was tugging on the strands softly to urge you towards the significantly easier zipper. You caught the thin bit of metal between the tip of your canine and clenched your teeth, dipping your head to pull it down, and your victory was marked by the barely there sigh that snuck out of Ominis’ parted lips. 

The blond elected to take pity on you then, sitting up on his knees just enough so that he could shove his trousers and briefs down around his hips. His fingers moved slower when he got to the front of his waist, tilting his head to the side before carefully peeling the restrictive fabric away from his groin, and his cock sprung free and arched proudly against his taut stomach. Taking himself in his hands, Ominis shamelessly angled his cock towards you and slapped the leaking head against your cheek a few times, leaving a streak of pre-come across your face that you feebly tried to lick away, to no avail. 

You nestled fervently against his shaft, your enthusiasm palpable and more than enough to make Ominis’ head spin. He was positive he wasn’t meant to be feeling such warm fuzzies when he was supposed to be wrecking you as punishment. 

Then again, you’d been a little too interested in his idea of payback earlier, so nothing was really going according to plan when he thought long and hard about it.  

“Ominis,” you breathed, dragging his attention back to you restrained between his legs. Your soft lips brushed against the head of his cock then, your quick tongue flicking gently at the sensitive slit, and the sensation had him shivering as his breathing kicked up in anticipation. “Can I suck your cock?” 

“I thought I answered that question already,” Ominis murmured, nudging his hips forward so he could smear warm pre-come all along your flushed lips. Your tongue darted out to lick at the slick trail, staring up at him with such intensity that you were certain he could feel your eyes on him. “You want it?” You nodded, licking your lips again as you tried leaning up to run your tongue over the head, but Ominis chose that moment to pull back just out of your reach. The whine that fell from your mouth was like music to his ears, and Ominis felt you begin wiggling your hips impatiently. 

There it was. Ominis’ goal was to work you into a needy, frantic mess— he wanted you begging and moaning for him until he was sure he had shattered your composure entirely, and somehow he had a feeling that was what you wanted too. 

Ominis’ fingers spread through your unruly hair and tightened a fraction as he pulled your head towards him, using his free hand to angle his impressive length towards your mouth. “Open.” 

He could feel and hear your hot breaths against his achingly hard cock as you stuck your tongue out in invitation, and Ominis couldn’t help the sharp pang of lust that shot through him at the way you just… obeyed him. It was exactly what he’d wanted from the moment you walked into the Room tonight. 

Breathing a quiet laugh, he went ahead and slapped the slick head of his member against your tongue, hissing softly when you immediately swirled the muscle around the head to lap up the copious amounts of pre-come he was already dripping with. The lewd, wet sounds coming from you beneath him were enough to leave Ominis twitching between your lips against his better judgment, and he tipped his head back as he lost himself in the blissful strokes of your perfect tongue. 

“Ominis,” you breathed after a minute, your lips brushing lightly against his cock entirely purposefully. “Please fuck my mouth.”

Merlin.

He needed a fucking second to process that, his eyes widening up at the ceiling at the same time a predatory grin split your face. The shock was quickly buried, however, and Ominis regained some semblance of control when he tilted his head down at you and tightened his hold against your scalp. “Hm, I don’t know. Have you been good enough to get your mouth and your cunt fucked?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, chills breaking out all over your skin as a shudder coursed through you. Ominis loved being able to feel your physical reactions to his words, and he smiled despite himself. He was willing to bet that if he checked, you would be unbearably wet between your legs, staining the sheets preemptively with pooling slick. 

“You don’t think so?” You asked him, voice low with arousal. 

“It’s debatable,” Ominis moved back again, easily dodging your attempts to take him back in your mouth with an annoying smirk. “You’ve been pulling at the ropes for a while now, I can hear the fibers rubbing together.” 

You flexed your fingers on cue, your brows furrowing as you shook your head. “I was only shifting.” 

“Oh? How am I to know if you’re telling the truth?” 

Ominis languidly stroked himself with a degree of confidence that made your mouth water. Your eyes flicked down to his cock, any ounce of shame evaporating from your body as you wet your lips and forced yourself to remain well behaved. “You’ll just have to trust me.” 

“That’s unscientific– and also highly unlikely given the circumstances. How about this; you know I’ll always inevitably get the truth out of you one way or another. I’ll fuck your mouth, but if you’re lying to me, that’s all you get. All night.” 

Your jaw dropped, utterly appalled by the threat, and your drawn out silence told Ominis that you had absolutely been fibbing– but he just flashed you a sly grin as he continued to lazily work his hand up and down his shaft. He let you mull his words over, noting your audible gulp before you were muttering under your breath, “Honest witches have nothing to hide.” 

“Alright then,” Ominis hummed in amusement, sitting forward on his knees once again. “Open up, sweetheart.” 

You did so all too eagerly– ecstatic when Ominis finally guided his cock into your mouth, the wet heat making him groan low in his throat, and the sound got louder when you moaned and closed your lips around him firmly. 

Fuck.

Ominis slid deeper into your mouth, over your wet tongue, then oh– into your throat, and you had more than enough experience to be able to relax and take his cock nearly to the base. His thighs shook on either side of you, his hands finding their way back to your hair to hold you in place, and you took the liberty of hollowing your cheeks around him and swallowing. 

“Bloody hell,” Ominis moaned, his eyes pinching shut at the blissful feeling as he rocked his hips back. He moved just enough for you to be able to breathe, but after nearly an hour of dealing with his erection pressed uncomfortably against his trousers, that was about the extent of his patience. 

He got to work setting a steady rhythm, sliding his cock in and out of your incredible mouth, your tongue, hollowed cheeks, and the tiny movements of your head enough to leave him gasping your name. Your eyes were glued to him– unable to help but watch as a bright flush started to creep up the neckline of Ominis’ shirt and spread over his angular cheeks. In the heat of the moment, the urge to run your hands up his torso came over you, but the rope around your wrists stopped you in your tracks, making you whine around your mouthful. Ominis sighed and sped up some, encouraged by your muffled noises and the unrelenting, insane ministrations of your tongue against the underside of his cock. 

Ominis grew braver and rolled his hips perfectly in time with the shallow bobbing of your head, the tip of his shaft sliding into your throat for just a moment, and your choked moan betrayed exactly how much you liked it. Your whines turned pleading as you quickly adjusted to the intrusion, half brainless with need as you worked to pleasure Ominis the best that you could. The hand he had curled around your disheveled strands of hair moved your head in sync with his hips, giving you a small bit of leeway to angle your neck otherwise if you so chose, but you planned to do no such thing. 

“F-Feels so good, darling,” Ominis grit through his teeth, letting his head fall forward as waves of rapture danced down his spine. You made a throaty sound in response, your sucking growing sloppier with Ominis’ rushed bucking, but that was the farthest thing from a problem in his mind. The messy, wet sounds from his cock slipping out of your mouth before you greedily swallowed him down again were fucking addictive. 

It was all too easy to let himself be overcome with the sheer euphoria that came with being encased in your mouth, but the incessant, growing fire in his gut was becoming too much to bear. He was getting dangerously close, and he hadn’t spent all that time with his fingers buried in your cunt to ignore it entirely now. So as much as it pained him to, he shook the desire to come from his mind and tugged your head back. You pulled off of his cock with a shaky breath, thick strands of saliva and precome dangling between your lips and the swollen head. 

He hardly waited before he was shuffling down your body to give himself the space to start undressing, beginning with the top buttons of his shirt– and if you spent a little too long watching his deft fingers skirt down the row of clasps, he certainly didn’t need to know about it. The shirt fell open, revealing his smooth, pale chest, and he shrugged it off his toned shoulders without looking away from your spot on the bed. It never failed to make your stomach flip– how he always managed to zero in on your presence no matter where you were. 

With some impressive side stepping, Ominis shed his trousers and briefs together, kicking the offensive attire away from the edge of the bed so he could crawl back to you undeterred. He felt his way up your body, goosebumps breaking out over your skin in the wake of his fingers, and when he found your lips, he was leaning down to crush his mouth against yours in a heated kiss. He swallowed your mewls and gasps easily while he slid one hand up your raised arms to the rope around your wrists, running his fingers along the edge of the restraints in silent question.

“Leave it for now,” you whispered against his plush lips, and he smirked. “I like this.” 

Your voice was still rough from swallowing his cock, and the blond couldn’t help but notice— a spark of arousal shooting through him as he nodded and kissed you again. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, breathing hot against one another as your hearts raced in time and pulled you both away from the desperate precipice you’d been riding. 

“You’re shaking, love.” Ominis observed, feeling the small tremors reverberate through your body against his own. His hand trailed back down your arms while the other stayed propped under him, giving him better leverage to lean over you and press a chaste kiss to your temple. “I think you’ve more than made up for everything by now, what about you? Want me to take care of you? Will you be good for me?”

“Yes,” you rasped out, sounding ten different kinds of seductive without even knowing it. Ominis swallowed thickly, tensing when he felt you writhe in place against the mattress, your hips ever so gently brushing against his throbbing cock. “Please Ominis, I’ll be good– I promise– I’ll do whatever you want–” 

He silenced you with a suffocating kiss, fucking his tongue into your mouth and rendering your brain a useless pile of mush as he splayed his fingers around the curve of your jaw. It left you entirely at his mercy as he practically stole your breath from your lungs, licking and biting at your lips until they were swollen and throbbing, and your nails dug fitfully into your palms in response to the mounting pressure between your legs. 

“You sound so pretty when you beg, love. So eager to please,” he whispered against your mouth in-between kisses. “So I’ll fuck you, but you can’t come until I say so. Understood?” 

There was a good chance you were about to combust. 

You didn’t think you were going to last long with Ominis’ cock inside of you, but if telling him that ran the risk of not getting fucked, you would rather say nothing. Still, your displeasure was voiced in the form of a pained groan, and your frustrated sigh against your boyfriend’s lips dutifully conveyed your feelings on the matter to him. 

“Don’t complain. Here I thought you were going to be good for me,” Ominis mused sarcastically, obviously teasing you with the promise of being filled up. “I never did find out… were you behaving earlier?” 

Dammit. You couldn’t stop the whine that ripped from your throat as you tried to duck your head out of Ominis’ unrelenting grip, to no avail. His hold on your jaw stayed firm, forcing your eyes to remain glued to him while he unabashedly rolled his cock against the curve of your hip– as though to remind you of his earlier promise. 

“You weren’t, were you.” It wasn’t a question. You licked your lips, honestly considering your options when Ominis angled your head to the side to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck. “Don’t you dare lie. If you tell me the truth, I won’t be mean to you.”

Your eyes slid shut, minutely shifting your hips towards the tantalizing feeling of Ominis’ cock pressed against your hip, before you shook your head and choked out a meek, “No.”

“Hm, of course not,” he murmured playfully, biting at the shell of your ear, then your neck, and he moaned softly when you tilted your head further to the side to offer more of yourself to him. “But I already knew that. Better late than never, I suppose.” 

In a flash, Ominis had released your face and was sitting back on his heels, gathering your knees together so he could pin them to the side and give himself better access to your ass. Before you could question him, he brought his free hand down and landed a good, echoing slap against the sensitive skin of your rear, leaving you arching helplessly off of the sheets with a wanton moan. With your wrists still bound, all you could do was flail your legs in Ominis’ hold, but his broad hand kept them pressed against the sheets– forcing you to bear the sting for a moment before he was soothing the spot with his warm palm. 

“O-Ominis–” 

You were cut off as he spanked you again, a shrill cry ripping from your lips as your spine rounded in your feeble attempts to escape, but Ominis held you in place despite your writhing. “Is that enough of a warning? Do you promise to be good?” 

“Y-Yes, yes, Ominis, please–” 

The pressure on your knees let up as Ominis shifted you back into your original position, only this time he nestled himself between your trembling legs with the heavy head of his cock dragging deliciously over your incredibly slick entrance. He slipped his hand under the crook of one of your knees, bending it back to give himself more room to rock his hips as he said, “I hope so.” 

“Please, don’t tease me anymore, Ominis– I can’t take it,” you gasped out your pleas, cracking your bleary eyes open to gaze up at the striking man towering over you. Those luminescent, unseeing eyes of his were seemingly alight behind the messy strands of blond hair that fell forward in his face, and the positively immoral expression he bore had you repeating his name like a broken mantra that filled him with renewed vigor. 

Ominis stifled a moan, biting the inside of his cheek as he finally pressed into you, and he let his eyes roll back at the feeling while you groaned with unrestrained contentment. You were fucking beside yourself, your hands twisting fitfully in your restraints as you let out a long, stuttered string of words that didn’t properly form, and by the time Ominis was fully sheathed inside of you, your patience had run out. 

“Merlin, Ominis,” your head flew back against the pillows, pathetically rocking your hips back in search of more, because his shallow grinding wasn’t going to begin to cut it. You craved this– you needed to get fucked through the bed, needed for Ominis to rail you like the world was ending– you needed more. “Ominis!” 

“F-Fuck, sweetheart,” He wheezed out, hugging your leg to his torso as he panted heavily from how unbelievably tight you were, and how incredible you felt. Part of him wanted to be gentle with you– to roll his hips smoothly and evenly to build you up slowly and perfectly– but Ominis knew what you wanted. Even if he didn’t, you took it upon yourself to educate him with your next breath.

“Ominis, fuck me, please,” you were practically sobbing, rutting down onto his cock with what little movement you could muster on your back. “Come on, fuck me– please just fuck me already– please, please, ah–”

Getting you this worked up took no small amount of effort. Ominis took immense pride in the mess he’d made of you for a brief moment, sighing when you squeezed tighter around his cock and moaned his name again. “You sound so fucking good, love,” he hummed, giving you a slow little grind that left you overcome with urgency. “I told you I’d take care of you.” 

Before you even had time to moan in response, Ominis was readjusting his grip on your leg, shifting the one still against the sheets further to the side so he had more room at his disposal when he pulled back and fucking rammed his cock back into you.

He didn’t waste any time in keeping up this way, either. 

You were utterly delirious. 

Ominis fucked you so hard and so fast, it seemed like it shouldn’t even be possible. The slap of his hips against your ass reverberated loudly off the stone walls of the bedroom, but it was overshadowed completely by how loud you were screaming. 

It was everything you’d wanted. Probably more so, because Ominis was fucking railing into you with some insane stamina, breathing loud moans of his own, gasping your name, and you couldn’t even find the brain power to beg for more. Every time he pulled back and left you nearly empty, he was fucking you open again with the force of his cock, jolting you up the bed until you were bracing your bound hands against the headboard and utilizing your newfound leverage to push back onto him. 

Ominis allowed you to rut against him for a few thrusts– enough to appreciate the lush sound of your ass bouncing against his hips– until the urge to take you over completely filled him. He moaned then, the noise low and savage, and he moved so that he was leaning over you with the knee he’d been holding flung haphazardly over his shoulder. Pressing into you further, you gave a whimpered protest at having your efforts cut short, but Ominis ignored you entirely in favor of spreading you wider to accommodate his larger frame. 

With you pinned beneath him in complete possession, Ominis wasted little time in fucking you harder, faster– his long thrusts switching to deep, hammering ruts that drove the head of his cock clean past your sweet spot so intensely that it damn near knocked you out. 

If you could use words at all, you would have tried to warn Ominis that you were about to come. There was no fucking way you couldn’t. You were so full of his cock, your throat raw from screaming, and you were being held down and fucked like you were merely a toy with your hands grasping pointlessly at air. 

You felt Ominis before you heard him when he loomed over you to groan hot in your ear, his cock reaching deeper and hitting you even better than before, and when you were right there– tense and tight and wailing Ominis’ name over and over– he fucking growled his warning against your temple, and you broke down and sobbed. 

“Don’t you dare come.”

Your noisy, brainless pleas fell on deaf ears as your boyfriend continued owning you, never letting up as he kept you pinned to the bed and chased his own pleasure. You were close– so fucking close that you didn’t know what to do with yourself besides cry and hope to whatever Gods existed that Ominis would have mercy on you. 

Pulling at the ropes around your wrists frantically, your garbled cries blurred together in a barely intelligible string of ‘please’s at the same time it started to hurt from how long you’d been on the cusp of your climax. Tears streaked down your face, frustration and desperation and too much pleasure twining together with the pain of holding back, and before you could figure out what was happening, Ominis was looping one of his arms under your back. He tugged you so you were arched towards him, your front held flush to his chest as he bent you precariously upwards, all the while maintaining his unrelenting pace. 

“Come on, darling, come for me,” Ominis urged you, his hot breath ghosting over your sweat-slick skin and making you shiver with delight for a multitude of reasons. He planted his feet firmly against the bed, bucking his hips up with a precision that left you boneless in his arms while he slammed his cock right into that mind-numbing spot so perfectly, and then you couldn’t hold back anymore. 

Your orgasm was earth-shattering. 

The world seemed to flash a brilliant white around you, making you oblivious to everything in existence but the guttural moans slipping from Ominis above you, and for a good, long minute, your mind simply halted. You were vaguely aware of yourself gasping as he stilled his movements, having the good grace to remain idly in place while his gentle hands willed you to relax. 

“I have never heard you scream that loud,” Ominis groaned, sounding equal parts wonderstruck and pained– which probably had everything to do with his still-hard cock twitching inside of you. He gingerly lowered your prone body down onto the mattress, relishing in the weak, fucked out whimper the action pulled from you. “Are you alright?” 

You tried saying yes, but it came out sounding more like a croak than a reassurance. Ominis chuckled darkly, sliding his hands down to your hips as though he were about to pull out, but your shaky legs wrapping around his slender waist stopped him in his tracks, and the movement had him choking on your name as he pressed down to hold you still. 

“You want me to keep going?” Ominis asked, his voice incredibly tight and strained from the way your pulsing walls squeezed around his cock again. 

This time, you managed to get your tongue to obey your brain and formulate a full sentence. “Y-Yeah, please Ominis. I want you to fill me up, please keep going.”

Ominis’ head fell forward, his fingers digging into the skin of your waist for a modicum of restraint. The tone of your voice was seriously doing him in, as was the way you seemed to suck him in deeper with your legs. “You have to tell me if it’s too much.” 

You made a tiny sound of agreement before melting back into the mattress as Ominis’ hand slid up your thigh, lingering for a moment on the tiny scar you’d failed to heal earlier. He said nothing of it though, instead leaning down to kiss you hungrily before taking advantage of your legs coiled around his back, rocking into your tight heat once again. 

The stark contrast between his earlier pace and his current one was almost dizzying. Ominis’ possessive snarls gave way to worshiping moans, and the hands that had previously pinned you down now reverently trailed up your torso to lovingly run his fingers up your chest, then your neck, and finally over your tear stained cheeks. It felt incredible; his cock moved so perfectly inside of you while his hands pressed and soothed whatever part of your body they could make contact with, but his restraint was still there. He had to be going insane– you’d been at this for an eternity, and he still hadn’t gotten to come yet. If his strained moans and trembling hips were any indication, he was holding back big time. 

“Ominis,” you murmured, forcing him into you harder with your legs, and the drawn out groan he let slip reflected his need all too well. “Come on, Ominis, please. I can take it.” 

“Fuck–” he blurted, his tempo faltering for a second before he braced one of his hands beside your head to once again pull nearly all the way out. When he snapped his hips forward again, he filled you with a hard thrust and ground into you so fiercely, the friction against your clit made your spine round off the bed with a keening moan. 

His gentle, easy pace fell away– his breath fanning warmly against your cheek as he kept up his firm, grinding thrusts. By some impossible miracle, you felt a familiar heat building in the pit of your stomach, your pleasure being drawn out of you for the second time all too easily. You were still overwhelmingly sensitive from earlier, and it allowed you to feel everything Ominis gave you even more vehemently. 

Ominis elected to drop his hand from your cheek down to your clit, rubbing tight, titillating circles over the nub as he continued spreading you open on his cock, and your scratchy voice filled the room as you threw your head back to wail for him. It felt too good– too perfect. You didn’t even know such euphoria existed, much less that your boyfriend could bestow it upon you so thoroughly. 

“Gods, I can feel you– are you close again?” Ominis buried his face in your neck to whine against your sweaty skin, barely maintaining his rhythm any longer– just desperate to feel you around him. “I’m so close– fuck.” 

“Yes, yes,” you croaked, wanting so badly to wrap your arms around his shoulders and curl around him like a second skin, but the rope around your wrists denied you, and your arms ached from the position they’d been left in for so long. “Me too– please Ominis, please– me too.” You threw your head back with a gasping cry as Ominis bucked harder into you, his hands grabbing and pulling at you as your combined sounds spiked higher and louder the closer you got. 

When Ominis finally came, he sank his teeth into the marred expanse of your shoulder, biting down to stifle the string of curses that threatened to spill from his mouth. The sharp pain intermingled with the burning pleasure between your legs, and that was as much as you could bear before you were falling over the edge with him. 

Ominis’ body tensed, his hips grinding into you as you twitched and gasped under him, and the rich feeling of him emptying deep inside brought you to new heights you’d never experienced before. He spent an ample amount of time just whimpering against your pulse, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you tight to him. His lips parted on a soft moan when you held him back best you could using your legs, and he brought one hand out from under you to follow your shaky arms up to the headboard. You felt a telling tug on the rope around your wrists, and in a heartbeat Ominis had expertly undone the knot that tied you to the bedframe. 

As much as you wanted to wrap your arms around him, the appendages were practically useless. You felt pins and needles dancing down your shoulders, which didn’t do anything to help with your hyper-sensitivity. But all in all, you’d never felt so satisfied in your fucking life, and you turned your head to press your lips against Ominis’ messy head of hair graciously. 

He shuddered at the feeling, lifting his head to gaze affectionately in the direction of your soft breathing. “Are you alright, love?” 

You hummed contentedly and nodded, flinching ever so slightly when you felt Ominis slide out of your overstimulated walls. He bent down to claim your lips in a heated kiss, chasing away any lingering tension in your body as he ran his hands down your sides dotingly. 

“You were so good for me, darling… so well behaved. You sounded so pretty falling apart on my cock,” he whispered his praises against your mouth, making you whimper, and you felt his expression twist into a smug smirk against your parted lips. “No more secrets, though. The next time you want me to fuck you senseless, you need only ask.” 

You agreed embarrassingly fast, vowing to forever voice every last whisper that crossed your mind from this moment forth. Especially if it meant garnering treatment like this more often. What other sinful secrets was Ominis hiding from you? 

As sore and achy as you were, a very big, very shameless part of you seriously couldn’t wait to find out. 

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted, Chapter 1: Unarmed, Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: (For this part only) Following the events of CA:CW, Tony Stark has offered Steve Rogers an olive branch of sorts to bring The Avengers back together. You, CTO of Stark Industries and head of Innovation & Technology for the Avengers' Initiative, have your doubts, as you're not quite ready to forgive Captain America for ripping your family apart just yet. Steve had one condition, however, when agreeing to return to the team, one that's going to turn your life upside down and inside out: If he's coming back to join The Avengers, he's bringing his best friend, Bucky Barnes, with him.

Warnings: (For this part only) Language (obviously), minor mention of alcohol, I'm obviously on Team Tony during the CW; don't come for me, awful jokes, minor use of (Y/N). As always, if I missed any, please let me know.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Here's a little preview of Unwanted. In it's current form, it's standing at about 50k words, with about 25k still in editing, and I'm maybe about half done with writing the entire thing? I'm not going to lie, it starts out cute and fluffy, but it's gonna get real angsty and painful. Dear Reader has unresolved emotional trauma and Bucky doesn't understand the importance of boundaries in 21st century relationships. This piece has been my baby for several months now; I really hope ya'll enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you'd like to be added!) @blackhawkfanatic

"You're sure you're cool with this, Boss?" you asked Tony Stark, for what was probably the ten thousandth time in the last hour. The two of you were sitting by yourselves off in a corner of the common area of the Avengers Tower while the rest of your team congregated around the bar, eagerly anticipating the official return of Captain America to the Avengers. That, by itself, would be enough to warrant a gathering of Earth's mightiest heroes, but what had everyone in attendance talking was the fact that Steve Rogers wouldn't be returning alone.

Your billionaire employer sighed and swirled his glass of Laphroaig, the amber liquid sloshing along the sides of the tumbler. "I don't love it, Pocket, but it was Cap's only condition for coming back into the fold, and since Barton, Wilson, and Maximoff all went off the reservation with him, it seemed a small price to pay to get everyone back under one roof." He took a swig of his whiskey and smacked his lips.

You couldn't help but smile at his use of your nickname. Thor had inadvertently given it to you when you first met the God of Thunder years ago, remarking for everyone to hear that you were so small and tiny, he could tuck you into his pocket and abscond away with you to Asgard. Somehow, it stuck. You'd hated it at first; it had felt dismissive and condescending, which of course meant that it soon became the only thing the members of your team called you, but the more they used in their daily lives, the more you actually came to love it. It was a brand new, unique identity that came to embody the person you’d become, and the past you’d worked so hard to put behind you. You were more likely to answer to 'Pocket,' now, than you were your legal name, and you were grateful for it.

"Besides," Tony continued with a shrug, "if letting the Barnes thing go means we get the band back together, I'm willing to be the bigger person about it."

You stared at him, impressed. "Well look at you. When did you get so emotionally evolved?"

"Since Pepper told me I needed to start seeing a therapist or she’d leave me once and for all," he admitted to you with a cheeky wink; you both knew that, though Tony drove his partner, Pepper Potts, absolutely insane sometimes, she loved him far too much to ever walk away from him for good. That didn’t stop the threats, though. Lord knows he tried her patience. In your opinion, the woman was a saint.

Your eyes widened at the revelation and you let out a low whistle of appreciation. "You're going to therapy? Wow. Tony, That's amazing. I'm proud of you."

"Oh please," Tony scoffed, "I have much more important things to do than sit on a couch and spill my feelings. Besides, my secrets are too valuable to divulge to an actual human being. I just trained FRIDAY on therapeutic conversational datasets so she can handle all that psychological mumbo jumbo and then I paired that with BARF's augmented reality-- it's seriously the platinum standard in mental healthcare. No awkward silences or judgmental stares, just pure efficiency. You should try it; it’d do you wonders. And the best part? No copays."

You chuckled as you took a sip of your pineapple and Malibu. "Yeah, okay. That completely tracks for you," you told him with a smile. "So, what did Dr. FRIDAY tell you that got you to change your mind about the Barnes situation?"

Furrows appeared between Tony's eyebrows as he took another sip of whiskey to buy time for collecting his thoughts. There was still so much pain in him where Bucky Barnes was concerned. You'd worked for him in some capacity for nearly fifteen years and you'd never seen him as defeated as he'd been when he got off that Quinjet from Siberia. He'd been bloodied, battered and utterly broken, body and soul. Seeing him like that had shattered you, and you never wanted to live through something like that again.

Tony ran you through his experience with his therapeutic innovation, and you had to admit, it was impressive. The system had helped him realize that Bucky Barnes wasn't responsible for the heinous crimes Hydra had brainwashed him into completing, and so his anger over the death of his parents, while justified, had been misdirected.

"Once I processed that, it was a quick jump to realizing we can't be the best version of the Avengers if we only have half the team at home, and it's innocent people who would pay the price for it. So, when I reached out to Cap and he agreed to come back if I agreed to let him bring Barnes with him, well..." Tony trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hand toward the where the rest of the team was waiting.

"So, you and Rogers are just, what? Good then? All water under the bridge?" you asked him, mild irritation clouding your voice.

"Oh, absolutely not." Tony took another sip of whiskey. "I can work with him again, and I'm glad to, but we're not going to be braiding each other's hair anytime soon."

"Good," you said, raising your glass in a mock toast to Tony. "I'm not quite ready to forgive him on your behalf just yet." Tony had essentially saved your life when you first met him, and he’d continued to support and guide your career to heights you could have never imagined. You'd started as a systems analyst and mechanical engineer at Stark Industries fresh out of college, and under Tony’s mentorship, it wasn’t long before you found yourself rising to the position of the company’s Chief Technical Officer, second in command only to Pepper, now that Tony had passed on the reins to her. All this happened long before he'd ever brought you in to work with him on the Avengers Initiative, and now you spent the majority of your time heading up their Technology and Innovation Department, as well.

Any kind of healthy respect you might have had for your boss had died out a long, long time ago, because Tony Stark  was Tony Stark, but now he was just Tony-- more like an annoying older brother you loved dearly,  whose name just happened to be on your paychecks. You owed him everything and that had earned him your unwavering loyalty. You'd follow him to hell and back again if he asked it of you, though he knew he’d never have to; you’d be paving the path there right alongside him.

The sound of laughter made its way across to you from the other side of the room and you felt warmth at the sound-- everyone, together again and happy. Just a few short months ago, you never would have been able to imagine the scene before you, not after the fight in Berlin and its brutal aftermath. You had thought for sure that this little family you'd found yourself in the middle of had been destroyed beyond repair.

So, you might have had your own reasons to be pissed at Steve Rogers.

"What's Barnes like?" you asked Tony. Having only ever glimpsed him from a distance, or from behind a computer monitor, you'd utilized all the resources at your disposal to dig up as much information on the Winter Soldier as possible, but even your skills hadn't been able to get you what simply didn't exist. "You know I don't like unknown quantities."

Tony seemed to think for a moment. "You mean, aside from being a brainwashed, murderous assassin?"

"Tony," you chastised. You knew that Barnes had spent a good deal of time in Wakanda before coming home to New York, working on having the words that triggered his homicidal alter-ego neutralized. Rogers may not always acted rationally when it came to making decisions about his oldest friend, but you were sure he wouldn’t be bringing Barnes back to the Tower if he posed a serious danger to the rest of you. Right?

"Fine," Tony said, with a typical exaggerated sigh. "Aside from being a former brainwashed, murderous assassin; better?" You rolled your eyes but nodded. "Don't really know, didn't care enough to ask. I'll be happy as long as he doesn't start murdering us all in our sleep. Cap vouches for him, so that counts for something. Maybe not as much as it did once upon a time, but something. But T’Challa seems to think he’s harmless enough now, so that’s good enough for me."

You nodded, taking another sip of your pineapple and Malibu, then leaned back, pensive. "Oh, God," you said after a moment of thought, sitting up in alarm. "You don't think it’s going to be like having an entire extra Rogers around, do you? All '40s morality and emotional repression? Because I am so over having him police my language." It wasn't that you had anything against Captain America as an Avenger, but there was only so much of the Boy Scout act you could take before you started getting nauseous. And okay, fine, you weren't too proud to admit it-- there was a not-so-small part of you that still hadn't forgiven him for what you saw as his blatant betrayal of Tony when he refused to sign the Accords. You'd promised to play nice, though, for the sake of your family, but your personal relationship with The Star-Spangled Man had taken heavy damage since Berlin.

Tony chuckled. "As if you'd ever let Cap's presence keep you from a good profanity. I should put out a swear jar. We could fund that crisis algorithm project of yours off your mouth alone."

"Fuck you, Tony," you uttered with a chuckle, fully aware that he had your number. You never met a four-letter word you didn’t fall immediately in love with.

"And look at that," Tony said with a smirk, "I just made another dollar. Hey FRIDAY, open up a new savings account and deposit a dollar into every time Pocket has a potty mouth."

"On it, Boss," the AI replied cheerfully.

You swore at Tony a few more times for good measure. "I fully intend to financially bleed you dry now, asshole."

"Oh no, I'm shaking in my custom Tom Ford's," Tony mockingly bemoaned, putting his feet, enclosed in the aforementioned ridiculously expensive loafers, up on the coffee table.

Raised voices from the other side of the room caught your attention. You stood up and craned your neck, trying to see what had caused the commotion. "I think they're here, Boss," you said.

"Alright," Tony said, standing up and putting an arm around your shoulder, "big smiles, kiddo. Remember, we're supposed to be happy about this." You suppressed a chuckle as you watched Rogers present Bucky Barnes to the rest of the team. Everyone was welcoming; you wouldn’t have expected any less, but as you watched their body language, the only word that came to mind was guarded. And you completely understood; The Winter Soldier’s reputation had preceded him, after all. There were hugs for Rogers, of course, but no one made any attempt to reach out to his friend.

Despite your overall annoyance with Rogers, you couldn't help but feel some degree of happiness for the giant oaf. When you'd been assigned on a mission with him (which happened fairly frequently, as he was so pathetically abysmal with anything having to do with technology) and ended up having to hole up in a safehouse for an extra couple of days while waiting for extraction, he'd started opening up to you about James Buchanan Barnes, and the reminiscing had made him so happy, you encouraged Steve to tell you everything about this Bucky. After that, the trouble was getting Rogers to stop telling his Bucky stories. If he wasn't sharing tales about growing up with his best friend during the Great Depression and all the absolute mischief they got into, he was sharing war stories of their time together with the Howling Commandos. He'd even shared his grief with you– how painful it had been to watch Barnes fall from that train and the guilt he carried for not being able to save him. He’d confessed to you once that, when he went into the ice, fully prepared to die, there was a part of him that was relieved to be reunited with Barnes in the next life, and waking up some 70 years later to a world where he was still alive but Bucky was still gone had broken his heart all over again. And yet, here they were– together in the next life, after all. If you were a different kind of person, you’d say it was a goddamn miracle. 

Because of the way Rogers described his best friend in those old stories, you were expecting Bucky Barnes to come swaggering along next to him, with a cocksure tilt to his head and a panty-dropping smirk playing along his lips, but the man who accompanied Steve was the furthest thing from that.

He shuffled behind Rogers slowly, looking at the floor and avoiding making eye contact with anyone else from the team. His hair hung long and limp, curtaining off his face as though it were a protective barrier. Though, if it was keeping him away from everyone else, or everyone else away from him, you couldn't be sure. He was much thinner than you'd anticipated, especially for a super soldier– though still extremely muscular, giving you the impression that it had been a long time since he'd let himself indulge in anything more than the bare minimum amount of calories he needed for survival. Tilting your head, you tried to steal a glance at his infamous metal arm, the thing of legends that had turned him from a run-of-the-mill assassin into the stuff of waking nightmares.

But the sleeve of his jacket hung limp, only empty space where the appendage should have been.

Curious. He'd come to Tony Stark's home unarmed. Your hand flew to your mouth to try and stop the uncontrollable snicker that broke loose at your own stupid joke. Tony elbowed you gently in the ribs to shut you up, and you hoped you were too far away and the others too distracted by Steve's introductions to notice you, but that thought flew right out the window when Bucky Barnes' head snapped up at the sound, his eyes locking onto yours from across the room.

"Holy shit," you breathed, knowing another dollar would go into Tony's digital swear jar, but damn if the man didn't have the most striking blue eyes you had ever seen. There were dark circles under them, and he looked incredibly tired, yeah, but they were beautiful. You didn't mean to stare, but you found you couldn't look away, either, and so the two of you were locked into some sort of impromptu staring contest. The longer you looked at him, the more you could sense an overwhelming sadness coming from him, as well as a level of wariness at being in a room full of strangers. It was almost overwhelming.

But then, just as suddenly as it began, the spell was broken. Blinking once, Bucky looked away and you felt the tension vanish from between you.

"What was that about?" Tony asked you in a low singsong voice.

"I have no idea," you answered, honestly. There had been so much pain and loneliness in his eyes. You'd seen eyes like that before, when you were younger and looked at your own reflection in the mirror following a scalding shower with your skin scrubbed raw and bloody. You suppressed a shiver.

Finally, Steve managed to disengage himself and Bucky from the other Avengers and began making his way toward you and Tony. Up close, you were struck by how tall Bucky was. He had to be at least a foot taller than you, if not more. And God, he was handsome. Granted, in a kind of heroin-chic sort of way, but still. A couple of good nights' sleep, a few good meals, some light personal grooming, and... well, there was a very good chance you were going to be in trouble once he got his shit together, that was for sure.

"And Buck," Steve was saying, drawing you out of your ogling, "This is our resident computer genius, Pocket (Y/L/N). You ever need help with anything technology-related, she's your girl."

"A bit of an over-simplified version, Rogers," you said, sticking your hand out to shake Bucky’s, "but yeah, that about covers it."

Bucky looked at you, then down at your hand, making no move to take it.

"What the hell kind of name is Pocket?" he asked, voice rough as though he hadn’t been using it a lot. Pulling your hand back, you shot him an annoyed glare.

"I don't know," you oozed back sarcastically. "What the hell kind of name is Bucky?"

"It's his nickname, Pocket," Steve supplied helpfully, though not without a trace of confusion. You gave him an annoyed, pointed look.

"No shit, Rogers." You turned back to Bucky and spoke slowly, as if to a child. "So, what do you think Pocket is, then?"

"Oh," said Bucky, catching on. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Gotcha; m'sorry about that. My manners are rusty from a severe lack of use."

You didn't mean it, but your mouth curved up into a hint of a smile, too. And then, almost as if you couldn't stop yourself from doing it, you found yourself saying "I see you've arrived unarmed."

There was a long, heavy beat of silence as Steve and Tony stared at you, mouths slightly agape, and you wondered if you'd made a critical error. You were just about to punch yourself in the face and claim you had a concussion and therefore couldn't be held responsible for what you said when Bucky burst into laughter.

It was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard, and it was contagious. Through your own laughter, you risked a glance up at Steve. He was looking back and forth between you and Bucky, an indiscernible look in his eyes, and you couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since he'd heard his best friend laugh. Hell, you wondered how long it had been since Bucky Barnes had laughed at all.

"Pocket," Tony groaned, palming his face, "that was truly terrible, even for you."

"I'm sorry," you said, trying to catch your breath through your burst of giggles. "It just slipped out-- I couldn’t help it. You know once these things come into my head, they just bounce around in there until they fall out. I didn't mean it."

Steve smiled at you. "So that's what you were snickering at," he said, amused. Damn that enhanced super soldier hearing. Rogers didn't need to be so nosy with it.

You shrugged. "What can I say? Bad jokes are my superpower. Don't be jealous that all you got was super strength and a six pack, Rogers."

Bucky laughed again, then nudged Steve playfully with his elbow. "I like this one, Stevie," he said. "She's funny."

You weren't sure why, exactly, but something in Bucky's words turned your insides into a warm puddle of goo.

Oh, you were going to be in trouble, indeed.

Next Part ->

[ebonyslasher]

Hello! May I request a black noir x supe!reader where the reader is secretly apart of The Boys. Also maybe where the reader manages to get black noir to safely before Homelander can come and kill him? Maybe the reader finds out from hugie (pretty sure he was there when solder boy told Homelander he was his dad?? Don’t really remeber though) that Homelander found out that solder boy is his dad and probably going after black noir? Please and thanks!

Hey! I made up the supe powers for this specific situation since you didn't specify.

Span is from a couple of months before season four to after.

The Almost Last Moment

After years of trying and IVF treatments, you future mother finally got pregnant. During early first trimester, your parents selfishly allowed doctors to inject compound V in fetus that formed into you. You were born their literal miracle baby. However, the only power that was apparent was your slight super strength when you were a toddler. Hoping for much more, they were disappointed.

As you grew, your true powers developed. The most exciting power that your parents were actually proud of was your portal making. Admittedly, it was fun jumping to and from anywhere in the world. Especially when you got some birthday money. What 10 year old wouldn't transport themselves to the candy store?

Another ability that you had was tying your aura to another. How they felt, what they felt, and why they felt would flow into the channel that you picked at. You could form the channel with anyone, but it was strongest with emotional attachment. However, if someone felt emotions strong enough, you didn't need a connection to feel them. Your parents didn't care too much about that one, but you thought it was useful.

The idea of being a supe was entertained for about 3 months out of your entire life. Your parents, although not sincerely encouraging, wanted the taste of fame and auditioned you for...well you didn't really know. All you did know what that your powers weren't "popular" aka not profitable enough to be on the forefront. Forget about being a part of The Seven. They offered some ads since you were pretty, but you declined. It didn't feel right, the commercialization of heroes.

Your parents were disappointed in your decision. Their standoffish behavior after pissed you off. If being a hero was just brand deals and politics, then they could do it themselves, since they wanted it so badly. Distancing yourself from them as an adult, you decide to stay low, attempting to live a normal life. The disappointment you had in other "heroes" furthered after observing the way they treated non-supes. So, it was no surprise that you joined The Boys after seeing a supe kill someone just to heighten their coke high.

The little rag-tag group had some interesting characters. What was very interesting was the allies they had within The Seven: Starlight and Mauve. The latter you had briefly met, along with A-Train, at your audition years ago.

Although The Boys represented powerful and much needed justice for non-supes, the work and aura was quite overwhelming. Needing an escape, you began volunteering at animal shelters in your free time. It made you feel good and wholesome, and gave you some much needed space.

This is where you, surprisingly, caught Black Noir's attention. He would go to the shelters to volunteer himself. It looked good for his image and he got to see cute animals. Black Noir noticed you coming in frequently and he became enthralled with your beauty and compassion. Every time you were there, he was there watching from afar. He came up to you one day and stared you down before lightly petting the bunny in your hand. It was...quite awkward to say the least. Him silently doing this and then abruptly leaving.

A nearby worker made an off hand comment that he comes in every week to spend time with the animals, sometimes showing them to children. How sweet. The next time you saw him, you approached, butterflies forming in your stomach. A beautiful relationship blossomed from there.

Although The Boys and The Seven's relationships was in hell, your relationship with Black Noir was heaven. God, he was perfect. Black Noir was such a gentleman. So polite, sweet, and dorky. His awkward habits were downright adorable. It pained you to keep your tie to The Boys a secret. It was apparent how loyal Black Noir was to Vought. You wished he wasn't so loyal to them. It'd make your job a whole lot easier with taking Homelander down.

As the relationship grew deeper, you couldn't help but blend your aura with his. This man is so damn stable. He would flicker through many emotions, like all humans did, but dealt with them head on. He was never afraid to feel things through. You were a bit jealous, but pleased he was emotionally healthy.

His stability was pretty consistent until you felt a sharp pang of paranoia, fear, and dulled pain one day. It shocked you into worry, immediately calling him. He never picked up. You continuously call and to no avail. This feeling of your own panic swept your legs to look for him, but...you couldn't find him. You tried your best to tap into the aura to locate him but the anxiety and paranoia severely dented your focus.

Not long later, Hughie and Butcher continued their escapades with Soldier Boy in hopes of finding his old teammates. You jumped up at the opportunity to join, stating that you'd be useful with your portal ability. Thankfully, they allowed it. It was during the fight with Windstorm when you felt a stronger pulse from the connection. You silently wandered off, using a portal to his location.

You find him, coming out of an abandoned building. Before you could call out, he leaves with quick determination. You try to catch up, deciding to silently follow him. Some time later, he walked right into Vought. Damn. You couldn't just walk right in. And you needed to get back to Butcher.

Your portal led your way back to the team just in time. You used your powers to help Soldier Boy kill his old teammate. Hughie turns to you with a questioning look but you trudge forward so he wouldn't ask anything.

It's an hour or so later when you decide to break into Vought using a portal. You stepped through, tapping into the connection to see how Black Noir felt. He was hopeful, happy, and focused with an underlying thrum of worry. Your shoulders relaxed as you finished stepping through the portal, into the hallway near a conference room. You see some movement and decide to peer around the corner. It was Black Noir and Homelander.

Homelander was speaking to him, going on about how he was able to see through the mask Black Noir had. How he knew what emotions Black Noir was feeling and what he looked like. As he started to speak about him having a father, you could feel some odd emotion welling up in the atmosphere. It wasn't coming from Noir, as you quickly tapped to check. It was coming from Homelander. The feeling was strong, with the air of slight sadness and animosity building quickly as he approached Black Noir. Homelander grabs onto Black Noirs' neck gently and asks,

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He makes this weird grimace and those intense emotions move onto new heights. You knew something bad was going to happen. You start to move when you see Homelanders' free arm move back. Quickly, you create a small portal. Homelander's hand goes through to portal instead of Black Noir.

Black Noir quickly looks at you and you book it towards him. With all the strength you could muster, you kick Homelander back. Putting yourself between the two, you create a portal behind Black Noir. You propel yourself back, bringing Noir with you as you both fell into the portal. You quickly close it as soon as Homelander almost flies through.

You're a mess of pants before you turn to Black Noir. He looked to be in a state on disbelief. You grabbed his hand, squeezing tightly. Breathlessly you said, "Just in time...Earving."

[dsireland86]

I Fucked Up

Had a quick idea about the picture above. I've seen this photo so many times, and it always leaves a sad impression on me. Hopefully now it won't. ☺️

Tags: @foliosgirl @xxkittenkissesxx @thefallennightmare @lma1986 @philomenie @concreteemo @reyadawn

It was just a fight, right? You'd be back once the dust settled, and you had cooled down some. You always did.

Folio stood there in the glow of the red exit light, eyes still glued to the door after it had slammed shut moments ago. You walked out, finally finished with the lame ass justifications and excuses he'd been giving you since last night. It was just a party, you told her. It was just a fan. There were no feelings attached at all, but that only seemed to make the situation worse. She said she saw enough, heard enough, and now.... finally felt enough.

It's not like he slept with the girl. Didn't even come close to it. It's just that between the weed, the alcohol, and the mood, Folio allowed the girl, who'd been overly friendly since she and her friends showed up at the after show party, to do a little more than he expected her to do.

Noah and Jolly always told him he was a little naive when it came to women. But that's why you loved him, why the two of you connected the moment you met. She wasn't like all the other girls, and you weren't like all the other guys.

Folio fucked up. Bad. Panic rose in his chest, and his mouth suddenly went dry. His hands that still held his drum sticks shook with fear over the idea of losing you. What he did last night with that girl as she sat comfortably on his lap; the kissing, the thigh grabbing, the way she ran her hand over the one and only thing that belonged to you, squeezing and massaging it in hopes to achieve the result from him that she wanted, but couldn't... because it wasn't you. Only you knew how to make him cum in your hand.

Folio was losing you. Fast, and he couldn't function properly to figure out what to do next. Tears welled in his eyes at the thought of not having you as his. You were his world, his stability, the love of his life.

Pulling the little black box out of his pocket, Folio wiped the escaped tear away, staring hard at the box as if would tell him what he should do, but he heard only silence. That's when the emotional anger took over. Balling his hand into a tight fist, Folio threw a hard punch at the wall, putting a large dent with a small hole in it. "Fuck!" He looked down at his knuckles already bleeding.

"You know, that's coming out of your paycheck."

Folio turned around to see Matt standing behind him, arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the wall.

"Fuck! I'm sorry, Matt. I shouldn't have done that." Folio apologized, running his good hand through his wet hair to get it out of his eyes.

Matt shrugged, moving away from the wall towards Folio. "Yeah, whatever. The guy running this place is a fucking dick anyway." He grabbed a napkin off the snack table on his way over, taking Folio's hand and applying it to his bloody knuckles.

"I fucked up, Matt. I fucked up so bad. There's no way she'll marry me now if she feels like she can't trust me." Matt could hear the panic and fear in Folio’s voice. Honestly, even he was a little surprised by Nick's behavior last night, but was willing to believe his friend's admission more than she was at this point.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, Folio. She has a tendency of surprising people. Remember when she first started hanging out with us, and Nicholas accidentally dropped his entire cup of coffee all over her brand new white leggings because of the cat he saw that was about to get hit. Dude, Noah and I thought she was going to freak the hell out, but instead, she took off running with Nicholas after that damn cat. In the end, they were laughing hysterically."

Folio laughed at the memory. It was the same day he asked her out on their first date. He'd walked into the bathroom while she changed, but instead of yelling at him to leave, she told him to stay since he'd already seen her underwear. That's when he kissed her for the first time.

"What about when we went bowling, and Stephen dropped the 11 lb bowling ball on her foot?" Folio wrinkled his nose remembering how bruised her foot got after that. "A few moments of choice words under breath and two shots of spiced rum later, she made sure that Stephen didn't feel bad about it and eventually the two of them were so drunk, they were singing their own karaoke versions of Bad Omens songs." "Holy shit, that was so horrible."

Matt and Folio shared a few moments of a good laugh. Folio found himself a little more hopeful that maybe this could turn out better than he thought. Maybe.

Matt patted Nick on the shoulder and removed the napkin from his knuckles. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but slight bruising was already starting to show.

"That's going to definitely make playing a lot harder." Folio shrugged. "My punishment." Matt raised an eyebrow. "Your ass is grass if it fucks up my front of house." Folio chuckled. "Anyway, Noah’s with her. He took her to the roof of the bus and is just sitting with her." Folio sighed, but the tension returned.

Noah hopped down the ladder, his long legs reaching the ground a lot sooner than Folio’s would have. "What the hell happened to you?" Folio looked down at his knuckles. "The wall and I had a fight," he answered pathetically. Noah scoffed. "Who won?" Folio held up his hand, showing Noah the bruising and partially dried blood. "Apparently, the wall." Noah chuckled.

"She's hurt, man. Her heart," Noah shook his head. "She's really trying to understand what happened and not be upset with you. She loves you more than anything else, and she knows you love her too. That's why none of it makes sense to her." Folio nodded, indicating he understood. "What do I do, Noah? How do I fix this?" Noah took a deep breath, sighing. "If I were you, I'd be completely transparent. Tell her exactly how you feel, whether you think it's important or not. Right now, she's in protective mode. Her guard is up, and it's going to take a lot of talking and understanding to help her get past this. But," and Noah laid his hand on Folio's shoulder, "she's vulnerable and is willing to do whatever it takes to keep you, Nick. You're her world. You mean everything to her. That's why this whole thing hurts her so badly. She just needs to know she's safe." Folio nodded again as Noah patted him on the back.

She looked like a shadow sitting all alone up there in the dark. The soft breeze of the night ripped through her hair, causing some of it to flutter in her face. Folio couldn't see it, but he already knew how beautiful she looked. "Now, that's a view," he said, sitting down next to her in the spot where Noah just was. He looked out into the darkness, at the bright lights of the city that lit up the night like the sun. She didn't respond to him in any way, just continued to sit there in silence. From the lights of the city, Folio could now vaguely see the outline of her face, those same features that he would gaze at often while laying next to her in their bed. Her button nose, her pouty pink lips, her soft cheeks, they made his heart flutter, and he wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss each one. But Folio knew better. She needed her space.

They sat in silence for some time. Folio placed his hands alongside him, stretching out his legs. The slight breeze brought a chill, and he saw her shiver. "Are you cold?" he asked, not expecting her to answer, but she slowly nodded. His heart began to race. "Do you want my hoodie? I know you," "Yes, please," she said quickly, cutting him off. Folio almost slipped off the bus from shock. Regaining his balance, he quickly removed his hoodie and slipped it over her, hearing a satisfying sigh. "Better?" "Better," she whispered.

Feeling overwhelmed with fear, Folio knew he had to address the situation head-on before it was too late. "I fucked up. I know I did, and I'm sorry. I never, ever meant to hurt you. I never meant to hurt us. I was just caught up in the fucking moment and I, shit, I just wasn't thinking. I'm sorry, baby. I'm so fucking sorry for hurting you, for breaking your trust in me, for making think or feel the wrong things.... fuck, I'm sorry." Folio hung his head, placing both hands on either side of his head. He couldn't hold back the little bit of tears that escaped and dripped onto his black jeans. His shoulders shook from the pain he was feeling inside, knowing that nothing he said or did was going to fix what was broken. It was over, and he knew it.

She sat quietly, listening to Folio pour out his heart to her. His apology after apology hit her heart each time like an arrow, piercing the thin layer of anger and pride that had already begun to grow. She knew, without a doubt, that Nick was sorry for what happened, and if she was being completely honest with herself, she was blowing the whole thing a little bit out of proportion. Folio had managed to stop it before it went too far, even though Noah had to step in and help a little. He never touched the girl inappropriately even though she'd managed to run her grubby paws over the one and only thing that could make her weak as fuck and bring out the porn star side of her. Just the thought of someone else trying to stake a claim on what belonged to her infuriated her. Truth was, she wasn't as mad and upset at Folio anymore now that he'd been honest with her and admitted he'd messed up. She guessed maybe that was the only thing her heart needed; to hear Folio apologize and admit he was wrong.

"Thank you." Folio stilled at her words. "What?" he asked, raising his head and staring at her, confused. "Thank you," she repeated, this time turning her head to look at him. His heart fell to the pit of his stomach at just the sight of her beautiful face. God, he was so fucking lucky. "Thank you? For what?" Folio sniffed, sitting up straight as she climbed into his lap. What the hell was happening? She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, placing her hands on either side of his face. Folio kissed the pads of her thumbs as she ran the back and forth over his lips. "I'm so confused, baby. What are," but his words were cut off by the pressure of her lips against his. The hunger and need Nick felt in just that one kiss was enough to set his world on fire and his nerves ablaze. He fucking wanted her, needed her like the air he breathed. She grinded against him slowly, up and down with her pussy centered right on top of his cock. Whatever was happening, Folio wasn't about to stop it.

"I just have one question, and then we're never talking about it again." The seriousness in her eyes was paralyzing. "Alright. What is it?" Folio asked, swallowing hard. "Would you have fucked her?" "No!" "Why not?" Folio grabbed her hips and pulled her closer into him, loving the slight whimper of a cry he heard in response. "Because she wasn't you, sweetheart, and you're the only one my dick belongs to." His eyes darted between hers, long and hard, until finally she smiled, and after one look at his lips, she kissed him again. Folio allowed her to take full control, using him for whatever she needed him for, because no matter what, he knew she loved him. Her fingers unhurriedly found his belt buckle, and he helped her undo it the second he felt her tug on it. She undid his jeans and pulled them along with his boxers down, lifting his ass up just enough for her to get them to his ankles, where he was able to toss them off.

"Mine," she said, taking Folio’s semi-hard cock into her hands. She wrapped her hand tightly around him and began her magical work of bringing him to the edge of sanity with just the use of her hand. "Oh, my god baby," Folio moaned, leaning back on his hands and throwing his head back, sighing at the feeling. Her fingers pinched his fully hard tip while her thumb spread the pre-cum that seeped from the tiny hole it worked open. This was his Achilles heel. Whether she was using her fingers or her mouth, only she knew it was the quickest and fastest way to make him cum. But that thought was ripped away the moment she removed her hand from him. The sudden loss made him whimper.

Innocently, she stared at him, searching his eyes for something. "What, sweetheart, what are you looking for?" He used a hand to caress the side of her face. She didn't answer, just continued to stare as she pushed her shorts and panties to the side. Holding two fingers up to Folio’s mouth, she told him to spit, to which he willingly obeyed. Using his spit as lubricant, which utterly wrecked Folio, making him wonder how in the fuck he deserved a woman like the one that was about fuck him on the roof of his bands tour bus, she aligned his hard cock against her heated aching pussy and slide herself onto him, biting her bottom lip as he pushed himself in, stretching her like it was first time, again.

"Goddamn, sweetheart, holy fuck!" She never broke eye contact with Folio, even as her pace quickened a little. "Fuck, ughh god baby you feel fucking amazing," he moaned quietly, holding her tightly against him so he could feel every inch of her soaking wet walls. "You're so wet, baby," he panted, already feeling the effects of her tight pussy clenched around his throbbing dick as she continued grinding, nice and slow, on him. "You're hiding something from me. What?" Her question startled him, but it didn't surprise him. Folio knew she could always read him like a book. She stilled with him still buried inside her. "Reach inside the pocket," he told her, eyeing his hoodie she was still wearing. She did as she was told but froze the moment her hand hit the box. "Pull it out." Her gaze was heavily laced with apprehension. "It's okay, just pull it out," Folio encouraged her. She did. The little black box sat perfectly in the palm of her hand.

"Nick," she gulped, her voice trembling. "Open it." Tears filled her eyes, but she bravely opened the box and gasped at the small yet stunning silver diamond ring. "Marry me, please." Folio licked his lips nervously, unable to keep his own tears away. The way she gazed at him made Folio think she was about to say no. She looked from him, to the ring, and then back to Nick. "Okay." Folio swallowed, clenching his jaw. " You will?" He was afraid he didn't hear her right." But she nodded her head. "Yes! I'll marry you, Nick." Without realizing it, Folio released the breath he'd been holding. Taking the small ring from out of the box, he slipped it on the ring finger of her left hand, bringing it to his lips where he kissed it, then placed it against his chest. Without another word, she began moving against him again, this time harder and faster, pulling Folio towards the edge quickly.

"God you fuck me so good baby." Folio whispered the harder she grinded her pussy against him. "That sweet little pussy belongs to this dick, doesn't it?" She nodded quickly. "Holy shit baby, yeah, right there, don't stop. Oh fuck." Folio squeezed his eyes shut, his entire face twisting in a mixture of pleasure and pain as the pressure of release became strong. "Fuck me harder baby girl, you're gonna make me cum!" He clenched her hips tightly, moving her back and forth on him to get her a little deeper. Her lips found his, devouring him as she tasted and the inside of his mouth with her tongue. He pulled her top lip between his and sucked right before pressing his tongue against hers and fighting for dominance. "Fuck yeah baby, right there, shit!" She grabbed his face between her hands and locked him in a deep dark stare. "Cum for me, baby. Cum inside me." Her soft tone and warm whispers was all Folio needed. "Ughh, god- fuck!" Folio bit down on one of his good knuckles, spilling his release inside her and coating her inner walls with his seed. They were both out of breath, panting and hearts racing. She stared at the ring on her finger, unable to stop smiling. "You like it?" Folio asked, finally catching his breath. She looked up at him with a smile. "I love it," she replied, looking back down. Folio could tell she was fighting more tears. " Hey, come here, sweetheart." He pulled her into his chest, wrapping her up tightly with his arms; the place where she always felt the safest. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I hurt you." She looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you. I love you, and I forgive you. It's over now. Let's move on." Folio agreed as she laid back into him, still looking at the ring.

"I owe you," Folio said, catching her as she jumped down off the ladder. She grinned, thinking about what Folio did whenever he owed her. He always made up for it in more ways than one. "You bet your ass you do," softly slapping him in the chest. "I might have a few ideas that I know will please my fiancé." Her face lit up with the word. "Fiancé!" Jolly's voice rang out. Folio held up her left hand to show him. "About fucking time, dude!" Jolly exclaimed, giving Folio a hand slap with a hug. "Happy for you, man." "Thanks, Jolly." Folio focused his eyes on her, smiling at the happiness that graced her face. He never thought his fuck up would've led to this, but it did. And now he was the happiest he'd ever been with the only girl he loved.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Little random, but you've answered asks about Disney Princess movies before a while ago.

What are your thoughts on Frozen and Anna and Elsa?

Thoughts on Frozen

People like it, but to me it's a thoroughly "ok" film. It's far from Disney's best, not one of the worst, but sort of middle of the road. The plot's a giant mess and was clearly subject to last minute revisions (Hans's sudden villainy comes across as so sudden that it fails to make the point it was trying to make. It wasn't necessary, as the point Elsa makes isn't invalidated even if he wasn't evil and Anna still could have dropped him at the end. And we just get this "YOU FOOL, DIDN'T YOU KNOW I WAS THE MUSTACHE TWIRLING VILLAIN ALL ALONG?!" To which I can only say, "No, Hans, I didn't know that, kind of makes that scene where you left the castle to look for Anna personally very pointless. Nobody would have questioned you, dude." It makes a lot more sense when you consider Elsa was supposed to be the antagonist/misguided in initial drafts and the then desperate need for somebody to be the bad guy.)

Tangled, by comparison, is a much more put together film and in my opinion is much better, but it didn't have a hit song sung by Idina or Anna's adorable nerdiness and Elsa's general angst.

So Frozen gets to be the beloved film for over ten years on, rejuvenating the Disney brand for another generation, and I just have to sit there and take it.

(Perhaps a hot take, I'm not tuned in enough to know, but I thought Frozen 2 was much better as a film in general, much more put together/hard hitting, though it had far less memorable music/the big numbers just weren't as good. It's also a lot more hard-hitting, with none of the comedy and very little of the narrative of empowerment.)

Anna and Elsa

I do like these two and they're very believable characters who do go through character development that feels very real.

In Anna we have an isolated, awkward, young adult who is convinced that 'love' will save her, doesn't know where she stands with what was once a beloved older sister, and when she fucks things up tries to fix it without really addressing the issues she had in the first place until the very end of the movie.

She's fun, she's relatable, if short-sighted and naive, and it's clear that she does have to learn something from her adventure, and that she really didn't understand her sister and what she was going through.

In Elsa, we have someone who has been under immense pressure her entire life while also knowing that she has this terrible secret which means she will never live up to what she has to be to rule a nation. She ends up isolated from her younger sister out of terror of hurting her, which damages their relationship, and she too has growth where when we first meet her in the film, she sees coronation as only a one-day event she has to simply get over with as quickly as possible.

She's also a very relatable character, her struggle is something that speaks to a lot of people and has been iconic for over a decade for a reason, and she's refreshing in that her problems despite being a female lead have nothing to do with men and a man never enters the picture for her.

Even her moment of "WHEEEEEEEE I'M FREEE!" to Anna arriving and "NOOOOOOOOOO! ALL MY ACTIONS HAD TERRIBLE CONSEQUENCES!" is a great one as Elsa is only then really forced to confront both herself, her loved ones, and finally accept who she is by the end of the film.

TL;DR

Basically, I like both characters and I think people really like them for a reason.

But I do think the movie's a hot mess.

[aechii]

₍⁠₍ OF LOVE AND FASHiON ₎⁠₎

A/N ?! last fic for the day booooo 😥 i dont know if i will be able to post any tmrrw, but i hope i can. anyways enjoy my lovelies

p.s. there's a little written part in this but it's abt 500-600 words

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[y/n]'s heart's racing. every palpitation hammers against her chest with much force, so much so that her full-upon-entry water has decreased to less than half left in just 30 minutes. the heat still fused with the air, but as the sun begins to sleep, it loses its energy, leaving a cool undercurrent that presses into the skin of all the attendees. she's so glad about the cooler weather, finding it completely unfathomable how she would've coped if the heat joined tham at night as well.

but the man seated beside her crashes all of her composure, and her body begins to feel hot and strangled.

she hasn't seen such a visually blessed male specimen in all the years of her living, and the fact that his body was so close to hers because of the crammed seating made matters worse. she can't think, breathe or concentrate on the influx of dressed models that come and go non-stop.

"you look disgusted."

the voice comes from right beside her, and her head whips around, startled. the man that has enraptured her entire conscience smiles goofily at her, and her heart wavers.

"what? me?"

"yes," he chuckles softly, "you."

his eyes turn back to the show before them, yet he continues speaking before [y/n] can justify herself, "i don't blame you, though. some of the outfits are... questionable."

his facial expressions are priceless, and [y/n] falls into a bout of laughter, "you're sick!"

he looks on seriously, eyes flashing with extreme judgement, "i'm not lying! how does anyone find pairing a skirt and baggy trousers aesthetic?"

the combination, that [y/n] had, most likely, missed from being consumed by her thoughts, makes her grimace, "yeah, that wasn't a good look at all."

he turns back to face her and, god, he stares so intently that she has to look away.

"speaking of outfits, what brand you wearing? 'cause i know it's not lv for sure, i'm not seeing any," he thinks of the right words, "over exposure of the logo."

"that's one way to put it," [y/n] snickers, looking down at her outfit, "i made it all myself... apart from the shoes of course."

the boy is taken aback, mouth agape and eyes wide, "no way!"

she begins to feel flustered by his reaction and just smiles.

"that's so cool, honestly. i would take more pride in that than wearing a slutted out luxury brand."

"slutted out?" [y/n] can't believe her ears; he's going to kill her, she's sure.

"how the hell did you come up that?!"

the boy purses his lips, looking smug, "i'm just that amazing."

"you're delusional."

he pretends to think for a moment, "delusional enough to think i'd get your number?"

[y/n]'s eyebrows shot up, "you want... my number?"

he doesn't hesitate to nod, "i don't think i'll be leaving without it."

jobe, who had been painfully listening in on their conversation, decides to make himself apparent, "don't do it, you'll regret it."

she turns around, coming face to face with a younger boy who looks almost identical to the one she had been speaking with for the past 15 minutes.

"you two brothers?"

the older one responds, "yeah, he's a cockblock though, don't listen to him."

"cockblock? jude, i'm trying to save her life!"

ah, so that's his name.

"clear off, jobe," he rolls his eyes, turning back to the girl sitting beside him, "sorry about that- so, your number?"

"don't do it!"

and much to his dismay, she does.

-

y/n_l/n

liked by judebellingham and 23,899 others

y/n_l/n paris photo dump !! met some cool ass people there lowkey

view comments...

judebellingham was lovely meeting you, such a vibe 😆

y/n_l/n you too!! <3

yfn__ best time of my life honestly

y/n_l/n paris at night is a sight to see

user1 you look GORGEOUS

user2 i really missed pfw just a day after i left france </3

user3 JUDE????

user4 I'M ACTUALLY SO SHOCKED

user5 😮

user6 WE FOUND HERRRRR

user7 and jude beat me to it already 😐

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judebellingham

liked by y/n_l/n and 899,231 others

judebellingham ❤🇫🇷

view comments...

y/n_l/n love the after party candid, send it to me plz xx + tell jobe i'm sorry but not sorry

judebellingham you look so pretty in it ofc + he'll see it anyways xx y/n_l/n @/judebellingham stop plz 😭🛑 jobebellingham @/y/n_l/n buy me croissaints and maybe i'll forgive you

jadonsancho freshh 🔥

user1 who's that girl in the last pic????

user2 someone who he met at the lv show, got her number and everthingggg 😭

user3 AND SHE KNOWS JOBE TOO? that's my chance stripped unrightfully away from me </3

user4 icel, she's gorgeous AAAAA

user5 this is my 13th reason

[thebettybook]

(Chapter 2) A Spin on an Enchanted Tale

Characters: Miguel O’Hara, fem!reader, Gabriella O’Hara, Lyla (Lyla’s a human in this AU)

Chapter 2 summary: My Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader AU inspired by Disney’s Enchanted (2007). After taking Miguel O’Hara (a 31-year-old single dad who doesn’t believe in fairytales) up on his offer to stay in his home, reader (a princess cosplayer in their late 20s) wakes up to a somewhat-new life with Miguel and his adorable five-year-old daughter Gabriella

Warning: None, an all-fluff story, enjoy~

Spanish used (I used SpanishDict): Papá (Dad); Buenos días, Papá (Good morning, Dad); Gracias, Papá (Thank you, Dad); Porque eres, mi solecita (Because you are, my lovely sunshine); Mierda (shit)

Chapters: Ch 1 | Ch 2 {below} | Ch 2.5 | Ch 3 {in progress}

The buttery rays of morning autumn sunlight slipped through the curtains and danced onto your form, gently waking you up. You cracked an eye open and turned over to grab your phone from the nightstand.

It’s…only six a.m?!

You put down your phone and let out a groan, fighting the urge to go back to bed and pull the covers over your head.

It was one of those rare days where your body would wake up too early on its own, and it was probably because you subconsciously remembered that you were staying in someone else’s home.

You made your way to the window, parting the curtains and lifting up the window.

The chilly Monday air greeted your skin, but you didn’t mind it. The faint beeps from taxis and chatter from people throughout Nueva York below filled your ears. Even though you should be used to the entire city being awake 24/7 by now, the hustle and bustle of Nueva York never ceased to amaze you.

What do I do now?

You couldn’t just go downstairs and make yourself breakfast; it felt wrong to use Miguel’s kitchen as a guest. You weren’t even sure if Miguel wanted you to eat breakfast with him and Gabriella.

He seemed pretty skeptical of you last night, which was understandable, so it was probably best to try to stay out of his hair as much as possible. Especially since you were now staying in his home for free.

Breakfast can wait; I can buy something in that cafe across the street later. You had $200 in your bank account—not enough to rent an apartment, but enough to buy yourself meals for the next week or two.

And with that, you nodded to yourself and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

In the bathroom, you couldn’t help but jump a bit when you saw your reflection in the mirror. You almost forgot you were wearing Miguel’s comfy t-shirt and sweatpants. I need to change out of these.

After brushing your teeth and taking a shower (and re-wearing Miguel’s shirt and sweatpants since you had no clean clothes to change into), you made your way to the folded pile of clothes Miguel gave you last night that you put on the study desk by the window.

T-shirts, dress shirts, sweatpants…None of these, as nice as the materials of Miguel’s clothes were, were suitable for you to wear as day outfits.

Your fingers then paused on a sky blue cotton dress shirt. You took it out of the pile and held it up to your body, the end of the shirt reaching way past your knees.

A lightbulb went off in your head. I can make a dress out of this!

You set the dress shirt down on the desk and went over to your suitcase, taking out your bag of sewing supplies and beloved sewing machine.

“Chip,” you practically sobbed, hugging your ivory sewing machine with the sewing supply bag on top as you lugged both to the desk. “At least I have you with me.”

“Chip,” which you affectionately called your sewing machine, came from the sewing machine’s brand “Chip Sewing Brand Inc,” though you liked to think “Chip” stood for:

Costume Making

Hemming

and Everything In Between

for Princess Cosplayers

After setting Chip down on the desk, you sat down on a sleek black swivel chair in front of the desk. You smoothed the cotton fabric of the shirt across the desk before taking out pink fabric scissors from your bag.

An upbeat, incoherent tune escaped from your lips in a hum as you spent the next few hours cutting, pinning, seam ripping, folding, sewing, and hemming.

With how big Miguel’s dress shirt was on you, you were able to cut some extra scraps from the shirt. There was one part of the shirt that you especially wanted to save for later: the left breast pocket that had a crimson spider logo embroidered on it. The pocket gave you the idea to incorporate it as one of two lower side pockets on your dress.

As you turned to the left to set aside the shirt scraps, the corner of your eye caught a movement by the window. A pigeon fluttered its gray and periwinkle wings, landing on your windowsill.

“Hello, there,” you smiled at the pigeon, who cooed at you in response. “You’re welcome to stay and watch me sew if you’d like.”

You could call yourself crazy for talking to a pigeon who couldn’t understand you, but your smile only grew when the pigeon stayed on the windowsill and looked at you as if to wait for you to continue sewing.

Your hums, the pigeon’s coos, and soft whirs from your sewing machine soon filled up the room. You spent about the next half hour sewing on shoulder straps and using the other scraps from the shirt to make and sew two pockets on either side of the dress just below your stomach area.

“And…done!” You turned off your sewing machine and took the dress off the table. Before you could get up to go change out of Miguel’s pajamas and into your new dress, you noticed a flock of fluttering movements on the windowsill.

There were not one, but five pigeons on the windowsill now, all cooing in unison.

“I see you’ve brought your friends,” You cocked your head to the side at the first pigeon, or at least you thought it was the first pigeon that came to your windowsill. You weren’t really sure; they all looked the same. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go try on my new dress.”

You rushed into the bathroom and slipped out of Miguel’s pajamas, folding them neatly and setting them aside on the marbled vanity before slipping into the dress.

A smile bursted on your face once you saw your reflection. The dress-shirt-turned-dress boasted a sweetheart neckline and shoulder straps that you tied into bows on your shoulders. The pockets (with one pocket having the former shirt’s crimson spider logo embroidery) also added a cute touch to the dress.

For a dress that was made in two-ish hours, it hugged all the right places while still being comfortable and easy for you to move in.

“All in a morning’s work,” you grinned at yourself in the mirror, turning around to see the dress at different angles.

Oh! Speaking of mornings… You adjusted a bow strap on your shoulder before darting out of the bathroom to pick up your phone on the desk.

…I need to text Nancy.

Nancy, the owner of the princess party cosplay business you worked for, was the type of boss who was kind and understanding but also no-nonsense when it came to business.

After you typed and sent a message to Nancy about losing your apartment and asking for extra princess party cosplay job opportunities, you placed your phone into one of your pockets.

You then turned around, noticing the five pigeons that continued to rest on the windowsill.

“You’re all still here? I suppose you all liked that song I hummed earlier, huh?”

The pigeons answered you with a collective coo that sounded like a “yes” from them, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“All right, I’ll sing it again.”

You began to sing the song from earlier, trying your best to keep your voice soft in an effort to not wake Gabriella and Miguel in case the walls were thin.

The song you sang was a princess song with lyrics about being happy while doing whatever task you were doing, and it was always your go-to song every time you worked on a new sewing project.

The pigeons joined in on your singing with their cooing, and you began twirling around in your new dress while the pigeons bobbed their heads.

You became so immersed in singing with the pigeons that you didn’t hear the doorknob of your room turn. The door opened just enough for a certain five-year-old to peek her head into the room.

“Good morning, Princess Y/N!” Gabriella flung the door wide open, running over to you and encasing your legs in a big hug.

You halted your singing and bent down to greet Gabriella. “Good morning, little one!” you returned her hug, noting how adorable she looked in her light blue unicorn-print nightgown and pink bunny slippers. “Did you just wake up?”

“Mhm, I wanted to see if you were actually here! And I’m glad that you are!”

It was impossible for you to not smile more at Gabi’s words. Despite all the uncertainties and events since yesterday, you found yourself truthfully replying, “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

You straightened up with Gabriella, and she tugged on one of your hands. “Princess Y/N, can you help me brush my teeth? Papá isn’t awake.”

You took out your phone from your pocket and checked the screen, which read 8:10 a.m. You didn’t know when Miguel usually woke up, but from what Gabi just told you, it sounded like he usually woke up earlier.

“Are you going to school today, little one?” You let Gabi lead you out of your room and into the hall to the main bathroom.

“Yeah!” Gabi hopped onto a little stool in front of the sink area, and you flipped the light switch of the bathroom on. “I’m gonna tell my friends that I’m friends with a really pretty princess!”

“Aw, I’m flattered,” you gushed, putting a hand to your heart. “Now, can you show me where your toothbrush and toothpaste are?”

Gabi nodded, pointing to a gold toothbrush holder by the sink. You noticed two toothbrushes: one sparkly rainbow toothbrush for kids, and a larger blue-and-red toothbrush with a Spider-Man logo.

“That’s mine,” Gabi pointed to the sparkly rainbow toothbrush. “And the Spider-Man toothbrush is Papá’s.”

You couldn’t help but quirk an amused grin at learning that Miguel had a Spider-Man toothbrush, of all things. He pegged you as the type to have those boring gray toothbrushes.

“Ok, I’m going to show you how to put toothpaste on your toothbrush,” you took Gabi’s toothbrush and the tube of toothpaste from the toothbrush holder. You opened the cap of the toothpaste tube and then held Gabi’s toothbrush and the toothpaste tube in front of you. “Watch carefully.”

Gabi nodded vigorously. You squeezed a centimeter of toothpaste onto Gabi’s toothbrush, leaving some empty space on the toothbrush for Gabi.

“Ooh, I wanna do it now!” Gabi held her hands out to you as if you showed her how to make a unicorn out of clouds or something.

You handed her the toothbrush and the toothpaste tube, and made your way behind her to support her small arms with your hands. “You don’t want to squeeze the toothpaste out too hard, or a ton will come out and we don’t want that.”

Gabi nodded, adorably poking her tongue out as she concentrated on squeezing the toothpaste onto her toothbrush. The toothpaste made a little toot! sound as it came out from the tube, making the both of you giggle. “Look, I did it!” Gabi held up the toothbrush to you.

“Great job, little one,” you returned her smile. “Now I’ll help you brush your teeth.”

You made your way to stand next to Gabi, and you looked into the oval mirror in front of the two of you. “You want to brush your teeth like this,” you mimicked small circle motions with your hand in front of your mouth.

Gabi copied you, brushing her teeth. “That’s it,” you nodded, and Gabi beamed up at you with a mouth now full of minty toothpaste.

After helping Gabi to finish brushing her teeth, you tidied up the sink and Gabi hopped off of the stool. Just as the two of you were about to exit the bathroom, footsteps approached the door and the door opened to reveal Miguel.

The Miguel before you was a Miguel who looked completely different from the put-together man you met last night.

This Miguel wore a plush navy robe over a white t-shirt and red plaid pajama pants. His chestnut waves clung to his forehead and stuck out in all directions, and his feet were adorned with giant pink bunny slippers that matched Gabriella’s.

“¡Buenos días, Papá!” Gabi ran over to Miguel, hugging his legs. “Princess Y/N helped me brush my teeth!”

Miguel blinked as if he was just waking up, before addressing you with barely a glance. “Thanks, but I got it from here.”

“Of course,” you awkwardly shuffled out of the bathroom, feeling like you overstepped a boundary by helping Gabi brush her teeth. Miguel didn’t even cast another glance your way as you made your way to your room.

He’s probably just being protective of Gabi. You nodded to yourself as you went into your room and perched at the edge of your bed. We’re all still strangers to each other, after all.

You gave a half-smile to the five pigeons who still lounged on your windowsill before taking your phone out from your pocket to scroll through job sites for any extra jobs you could apply to.

You kind of lost track of time as you searched and bookmarked job opportunities, because about fifteen minutes later, Gabi stumbled into your room once more.

The child was now dressed in a white uniform polo t-shirt, a knee-length khaki skirt, and rainbow unicorn socks. Miguel followed behind her, still in his robe and with his messy hair. In his hands were a hairbrush and a sparkly hot pink hair tie.

Instead of going to you, Gabi ran over to your windowsill. You were surprised that the pigeons weren’t alarmed and simply stayed on the windowsill as Gabi marveled at them.

“Gabi insisted that she wanted me to do her hair here,” Miguel explained. His hickory orbs landed on you for the first time this morning, but instead of his eyes landing on your face, they landed on your outfit. “Wait, is that my shirt?”

“Yeah, I woke up early and didn’t have any clean clothes so I decided to make a dress out of one of the shirts you gave me. I hope that’s ok.” You shyly stuck your hands in your dress pockets, feeling self-conscious.

“Uh…yeah. That’s ok. Remind me to teach you how to use our laundry room later,” Miguel averted his eyes from yours rather quickly. His eyes then landed on the five pigeons still resting on the windowsill. “Pigeons?”

Miguel strode over to the windowsill, waving his hand to shoo away the pigeons (who flew off into Nueva York with annoyed coos) before shutting your window.

“Aw, Papá,” Gabriella whined, turning around to look up at Miguel. “The pigeons wanted to stay! You should’ve seen them sing with Princess Y/N.”

“Sing?” Miguel’s thick eyebrows lifted, before furrowing in doubt as he turned to look at you.

You simply stared back, confused on why he seemed confused. Surely singing pigeons weren't the most odd things Miguel had encountered in Nueva York.

Instead of saying something about how singing pigeons didn’t exist, Miguel cleared his throat and turned back to a disappointed Gabi. “Uh, well, maybe they’ll come back later.”

A smile formed on your lips at Miguel’s attempt to make his daughter feel better. Miguel then surprised you once more by repositioning himself to sit criss-cross on the floor.

“Princess Y/N, sit with us!” Gabi hopped into Miguel’s lap and patted the empty floor space next to Miguel.

“Alright,” you chuckled, though you hesitantly made your way off the bed and to Miguel and Gabi. You crouched down, sitting and leaving a pretty good chunk of space between you and Miguel. However, Gabi took your hand and pulled you closer to her and Miguel.

He didn’t say a word, his hands full with the hairbrush and Gabi’s hair. The sparkly pink hair tie rested loosely between his lips. As if it came second nature to him, Miguel gently and expertly brushed Gabi’s thick brunette hair and gathered it into a neat ponytail.

“There you go,” Miguel planted a kiss on top of Gabi’s head after securing her ponytail with the hair tie.

“¡Gracias, Papá!” Gabi tilted her head up to kiss Miguel’s jaw, and you wanted to melt then and there at how cute the father and daughter duo were. Gabi hopped off of Miguel’s lap and made her way over to you. “Princess Y/N, how do I look?”

“Like the prettiest princess in all the lands, little one,” you gave Gabi a wink as you stood up, not caring if your princess compliment would elicit an annoyed huff from Miguel or something.

What you didn’t expect, however, was to see Miguel stand up with a soft smile on his face as Gabi beamed even more at receiving your compliment.

“Did you hear that, Papá? Princess Y/N called me the ‘prettiest princess in all the lands’!” Gabi threw her hands back in the air as if you just made her day.

“Porque eres, mi solecita,” Miguel stated as if it was an undeniable truth. “Wait here with Princess Y/N, I’ll go get ready and then I’ll make us all breakfast.”

You let out a surprised “pfft” at Miguel calling you “Princess Y/N” as he made his way out of your room and into the bathroom in the hall. Before you could turn to Gabi, a voice made you almost jump.

“Miggy, Gabi, I’m here!” A woman’s voice, which sounded nothing but fun and playful, rang from downstairs.

“She’s here!” Gabi crowed, taking your hand and leading you out of your room once more.

“Who’s here?” You didn’t even have time to blink as you let Gabi lead you to the top of the staircase. The child let go of your hand, running down the staircase and into the arms of the mysterious woman who stood in front of the elevator that led into the penthouse.

As you descended the staircase, you got a better view of the woman. She looked around Miguel’s age yet had a fun sense of style. Her chestnut bob, transparent pink heart sunglasses, tan boots, and cream mink coat worn over a white blouse and khaki slacks all complemented each other. In her hands was a paper bag with small grease stains at the bottom.

From the way Gabi enveloped the woman in a big hug, and the way the woman called Miguel “Miggy,” you couldn’t help but wonder if the woman was Gabi’s mom, and/or Miguel’s partner, or…

“Auntie Lyla!” Gabi calling the woman “Auntie Lyla” broke you out of your thoughts.

“How’s my favorite O’Hara doing?” The woman, Lyla, gave Gabriella a huge squeeze.

“Great! Papá and I took a princess home with us!” Gabriella beamed up at Lyla.

“Oh?” Lyla winked at Gabi as if Gabi just told her that Gabi got a new princess toy or something. Lyla then caught sight of you a few feet away at the foot of the staircase. Her eyebrows flew up in genuine shock. “Oh!”

“Hi,” you tentatively made your way towards the two, extending a hand to Lyla. “I’m Y/N, a princess party cosplayer, and I’m staying with Miguel and Gabriella for the time being.”

You were nothing but surprised when Lyla gave you a strong handshake but had the kindest smile on her face. “Nice to meet you! I’m Lyla, a long-time friend of Miggy’s, but I like to call myself the cooler younger sister he never had.”

Lyla seemed fun and sassy and you liked her already. Lyla seemed to like you already, too, from the way her smile turned into a wide and mischievous grin. “So Miggy finally found somebody, huh?”

Your eyes practically widened out of your sockets. “Oh! No, no, no, it’s not like that,” you waved your hands, shaking your head profusely. “I just met Miguel and Gabriella last night, and Miguel was kind enough to let me stay here.”

“Ohhhh,” Lyla blinked, cocking her head to the side in confusion. “How did you all meet?”

“So kind of a long story, but I got kicked out of my apartment for being behind on rent after coming back from working at a children’s party in princess cosplay,” you let out in a rush, barely believing that all that happened to you in less than twenty-four hours. “I was sitting on a bench and suddenly this little one came up to me.”

“Yeah! I found Princess Y/N!” Gabriella rested her hands on her hips proudly.

“I’m sorry about you getting kicked out, that sucks,” Lyla expressed her sympathy to you before her curiosity took over once more. “Wait, how did Gabi find you?”

“Well from what I learned yesterday, she ran off from Miguel when they were getting ice cream,” you answered, absentmindedly pulling one of the slipping bow straps back onto your shoulder.

“You did?!” Lyla’s eyes widened in shock, turning to Gabi before holding out her palm for a high-five. “Nice!”

You laughed as Gabriella—who didn’t really understand—high-fived Lyla anyways. Before you could talk with Lyla more, the sound of footsteps making their way down the staircase filled the living room.

The three of you looked up to see Miguel, who looked more put-together now than he did a few minutes ago. His chestnut waves were gelled back, making his thick eyebrows and sharp jawline look more prominent. He was dressed in a form-fitting white dress shirt tucked into gray slacks.

“Don’t encourage my daughter, Lyla,” Miguel frowned, though his attention was on the navy tie he was fastening around his neck as he reached the foot of the staircase. “And what are you doing here?”

“Good morning to you, too, Miggy,” Lyla propped one hand on her hip. “Did you forget I was taking Gabi to school today?”

“Huh? Since when?” Miguel mumbled, his frown deepening in confusion as his eyes snapped up from his tie to look at his friend.

“Since you told me last week that you would need to go to work a bit earlier today for an important meeting,” Lyla replied in a “duh” tone. “So you asked me to take Gabi to school today.”

Miguel’s eyebrows shot up and his jaw went slack. His eyes then flew down to his watch. “8:45 a.m., mierda,” a curse word slipped from Miguel’s lips, and Lyla instantly used her hands to cover up Gabi’s ears.

“Breakfast,” Miguel mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I need to make breakfast.”

“I got you covered on that,” Lyla held up the paper bag in her hands. “I bought breakfast bagel sandwiches! They were selling four for $4 so I got four. Thought four would be too much but now it seems perfect.”

Lyla winked at you, and you shot her a grateful smile. Lyla seemed like she’d be a good friend, and you hoped that you would get to know her more.

“Perfect, thank you,” Miguel walked into a little study room near the kitchen to get his things.

“Auntie Lyla, can you please help me tie my shoes?” Gabi took her lavender light-up sneakers from the shoe rack and sat down on the floor.

“Of course,” Lyla sat down on the floor across from Gabriella to tie her shoes.

You sat down next to them, watching as Lyla tied the shoelaces on Gabi’s shoes. “Can I ask you something, Lyla?” you rested your face in your palm.

“Yeah, shoot,” Lyla finished tying up Gabi’s shoes and stood up, making you and Gabi stand up as well.

“How long have you known Miguel and Gabriella?” Your question was one of genuine curiosity.

“I used to work as Miggy’s assistant for years until I started my own fashion magazine company, though I’ve been helping him out here and there with Gabi ever since she was born,” Lyla gave Gabi a loving side hug. “Wait, you’re into fashion, right?”

Before you could answer “yes,” Miguel came back to the three of you with a brown leather satchel crossed over his torso and Gabi’s pink princess school backpack dangling on one of his arms.

Lyla took that as a cue to hand two breakfast bagel sandwiches to you, one for you and one for Miguel.

“We’ll eat these on our way to your school, ok?” Lyla winked down at Gabi, who nodded up at her aunt.

“Walking while eating can be dangerous,” Miguel grumbled at Lyla as he bent down in front of Gabriella, helping her put on her backpack.

“She’ll be fine, Miggy,” Lyla waved her hand dismissively.

“Remember to—,” Miguel began.

“—cross the streets safely, look both ways, I know, I know,” Lyla rolled her hazel eyes at Miguel. “You know I’d never let anything bad happen to Gabi.”

You knew Miguel was overprotective of Gabi, but now you were seeing more instances of how much overprotective he could be of his only child. It made sense a bit to you, since it seemed like Gabi was Miguel’s only constant family member.

Miguel let out a huff before planting a soft kiss on Gabi’s forehead. “Have a good day at school, ok? After I pick you up and we eat dinner, I’ll take you out for ice cream like I promised.”

“Yay, ice cream!” Gabi’s warm brown orbs glittered at the mention of ice cream. She lunged forward, hugging Miguel’s neck. “Bye, Papá!”

After a few seconds of hugging her father, Gabi let him go and ran over to you.

“Bye, Princess Y/N!” Gabi threw her arms around you as you bent down at eye level for her. “I wanna get ice cream with you and Papá after dinner!”

“Have a fun day at school, little one,” you gently booped Gabi’s nose with your free hand while your other hand held the two sandwiches. Your action made Gabi giggle as if she was sprinkled with fairy dust.

You were too occupied with saying “bye” to Gabi to hear Miguel and Lyla chat with each other, until you glanced up and saw Miguel shooing Lyla into the elevator with a mildly-annoyed expression on his face while she had a mischievous smirk on hers.

“C’mon Gabi, let’s go,” Lyla called to Gabi as she stepped into the elevator, ignoring Miguel. “Your dad’s being grumpy since he hasn’t eaten breakfast yet.”

“Bye Papá, bye Princess Y/N!” Gabriella waved to you and Miguel and ran into the elevator to join Lyla. “Make sure to eat breakfast, Papá! It’s the most important meal of the day!”

You made your way to stand next to Miguel, the both of you waving to Gabi and Lyla before the elevator doors closed.

“I usually tell her that,” Miguel hummed, his eyes soft. “And somehow it’s now the other way around.”

“She’s a good kid,” your own gaze was soft as you and Miguel continued to look at the closed elevator doors.

“She is,” Miguel replied with all the love and pride for his daughter.

You then turned your head to Miguel. “So, uh, do you want me to stay here until you and Gabi get home? Or if you want me to get out of here while you’re at work, I can just walk around the city and look for another job or something.”

“You won’t be able to get into this building again if you go out, come back, and I’m not there,” Miguel made his way over to the shoe rack and bent down on one knee to put on his black dress shoes and tie the shoestrings.

“Ah, right,” you stayed put. “So should I just stay here then?”

You weren’t sure what you could do in Miguel’s home by yourself other than eat the bagel sandwich Lyla gave you, wait for Nancy to text you back, and look up more jobs on your phone.

Plus, you couldn’t even wash your clothes until Miguel taught you how to use his laundry room.

“You can come with me to work,” Miguel looked over his shoulder to you while securing his shoestrings before straightening up. “I’ll get my assistant Ben to help you find a job somewhere.”

“Huh? Are you sure?” Despite your shock and confusion, you went over to the shoe rack to slip on your sneakers. You also felt curious about finding out about Miguel’s job from the way he mentioned he had an assistant.

Miguel nodded, pressing the button next to the elevator. The elevator doors opened, and he stepped in.

You scurried into the elevator, the two breakfast bagel sandwiches in your hands. “Here,” you handed one to Miguel. To your surprise, he took it but placed the wrapped-up sandwich in his satchel.

“I’ll eat it after my meeting,” Miguel brought his left wrist up to look at his watch again.

You peeked at his silver watch, which you noticed was a state-of-the-art smart watch with a gold-and-orange screen. On the screen read the time: 8:51 a.m.

“You sure?” You blurted, concerned for Miguel but also not wanting the lengthy ninety-nine-floors-down elevator flight to ensue in painfully-awkward silence.

Miguel’s eyes flitted to you, and before he could open his mouth, a rather angry rumble erupted from his stomach.

The two of you averted your eyes from each other, Miguel doing so to pretend his stomach didn’t make such a noise and you doing so to save him any embarrassment.

However, you found yourself speaking up once more.

“Miguel, I don’t want to overstep, but like Gabi said, breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” you gave him a tiny smile. “Plus, we have some time. There’s still like…eighty floors left.”

He looked at his watch again, and you peeked over to see that it was now 8:55 a.m. Miguel let out a sigh of frustration, but he dug his hand into his satchel and took out the breakfast bagel sandwich.

“I should’ve chosen a shorter building to live in,” he grumbled, before unwrapping the sandwich and biting into it.

“Maybe,” you chuckled, before unwrapping your own sandwich. Miguel let out a huff, but his lips quirked into the beginnings of a smile.

50…30…The elevator ride down to the lobby was still long, and while you and Miguel both ate your respective breakfast bagel sandwiches in silence, it was a comfortable silence.

MIguel finished his sandwich by the time the elevator descended to the 20th floor, and you were just about done with your sandwich as well. You then turned to Miguel in an effort to start some more conversation. “Um, hi.”

“Hi,” Miguel raised a brow at you.

“Did you…sleep well last night, Miguel?” You noticed that the eye bags he had under his eyes last night were completely gone, and his entire face seemed a bit more relaxed now.

“Huh? Oh,” Miguel blinked as if he didn’t expect you to ask him that. “…Yeah, I did. Did you?”

Your eyes widened a bit in surprise; you weren’t expecting Miguel to ask you that, or ask you anything, really. “I did, too. I ended up waking a bit early but it wasn’t because of the bed or the room or anything. Everything in the room is just wonderful.”

In an effort to voice your appreciation to Miguel for him letting you stay in his home, you didn’t realize you sounded optimistic and dreamy like a princess.

“Wonderful,” Miguel murmured. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” you cocked your head to the side, not even aware that your action made you look more princess-like.

“Do you always sound like a princess or is it just to keep an act for Gabi?” Miguel rested his palms on his hips.

“Do you always sound like a pessimistic man who wears pink bunny slippers and owns a Spider-Man toothbrush?” You shot back without thinking, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Look, I’m just saying that I appreciate it when you do it for Gabi, but you don’t have to keep up that act around me when Gabi’s not here,” Miguel crossed his arms in front of his chest, mirroring your stance. “And for the record, Spider-Man toothbrushes are cool.”

“It’s not an act, it’s called optimism.” Instead of mirroring his furrowed eyebrows and mouth set in a straight line, you raised your eyebrows a bit and shot Miguel a smirk. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

Miguel opened his mouth as if to make a comeback, but the elevator interrupted him with a Ding!

You waited, expecting for Miguel to step through the elevator first so that he could rush to work while you followed him. Instead, he stepped forward to the side.

“After you,” Miguel reached an arm out between the opening of the elevator to keep it open for you. His gentlemanly gesture shocked you, especially since he basically accused you of being fake five seconds ago.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you decided to give him a quick and comical curtsy in an attempt to get back at him before you stepped through the elevator.

You made your way to the glass exit doors. Miguel strode up to you as you tossed your sandwich wrapper in a trash can near the door and he followed suit. He then placed a hand on the handle of the exit doors, but before he could push through them, he looked at you.

“Are you ok with speed-walking?” Miguel asked you.

You arched an eyebrow. “Sure, I’m wearing my sneakers. Are we going to speed-walk to the subway?”

“No, we’re going to walk to my workplace since the building I work at is just a couple of streets down,” Miguel replied before opening the door for you. “We don’t have time for curtsies.”

“I wasn’t going to curtsy this time,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest once more as you made your way outside.

Before you could look back at Miguel and blink, he strode past you. Thankfully, before you could register what happened, your feet followed after him.

So much for being a gentleman!

You speed-walked into the street that led out of Miguel’s apartment complex and the others surrounding his. Miguel was a few feet further ahead, and you were thankful he was as tall as he was so that you could see him and follow him.

As you sped past pedestrians and street vendors, you barely heard them shout at you to get out of the way or to check out their merchandise.

“A sunflower for the beautiful lady!” An elderly male florist selling bouquets in the open street held out a single sunflower to you.

“Oh! Thank you, but I can’t accept that for free,” you stopped in your tracks.

“Nonsense, these are going to wilt soon,” the elderly florist gave you a kind smile. “I’d rather give them away than have to throw them away.”

The sunflower, warm as sunshine with its golden petals, as well as the florist’s kindness, made you feel hopeful to find a way to continue living in Nueva York. As you took the flower from the florist and opened your mouth to say “thank you,” your eyes caught sight of Miguel walking back to you.

“What are you doing?” Miguel narrowed his eyes down at the flower in your hands as if it was laced with poison.

“The kind florist gave it to me,” you held the flower close to you indignantly.

The florist held out another sunflower to Miguel. “And one for the beautiful lady’s beau.”

Your and Miguel’s heads snapped to each other and then to the florist at the same time.

“Miguel’s not my—,” you began.

“They’re not my—,” Miguel blurted at the same time, before shaking his head. “Let’s just go.”

“Thank you for the flowers!” You gratefully took the sunflower that the florist offered Miguel before walking up to Miguel’s side.

Miguel glanced at the two sunflowers in your hands before fixing his gaze straight ahead. “You know you can’t accept things for free, right? Especially in Nueva York.”

“I know that,” you let out a sigh of exasperation at Miguel. “It’s just that the florist told me they’d rather give these flowers away than throw them away because they’re wilting soon. I think it would be a shame to see such pretty flowers go to waste, too.”

Miguel looked at the sunflowers again. “Gabi’s favorite flowers are sunflowers,” Miguel’s voice, which previously had an edge of stress, grew soft once he mentioned his daughter.

“I can give her one when she gets home,” you hummed, smiling even more at the thought of giving Gabi a sunflower. You put the two sunflowers gently into one of your dress pockets for safekeeping.

Miguel’s face softened a bit, and he pointed down the street. “We’re almost there.”

You weren’t great at memorizing the many streets, districts, and boroughs of Nueva York, so you wondered how it was possible Miguel’s workplace was only a few streets down from his apartment complex.

All you knew was that the area surrounding Miguel’s apartment complex had one side that led down several streets to an area with restaurants and shops, near where Miguel and Gabi met you last night.

And the other side, where you and him were headed, you weren’t too sure. But as you were greeted with corporate skyscrapers, you were beginning to have an idea.

It wasn’t long before the two of you reached the front of a silver skyscraper with sky blue glass panels. The building, with its state-of-the-art pointed architecture, was so tall and imposing that it reminded you of Miguel in a way.

The building was also so famous even you knew what it was. You whipped your head to Miguel as the two of you walked up to the front doors. “You work at Spider-Society HQ?”

Spider-Society HQ, based in Nueva York, had risen to fame in recent years as an innovative company focused in the scientific fields of genetics and physics.

You didn’t know anything about the company other than that, and now seeing the discreet crimson spider logo on the doors, you realized it was the same one on your dress pocket from Miguel’s shirt.

How did I miss it? You looked down to your dress pocket that had the building’s logo on it. To be fair, science companies and their logos were never at the forefront of your mind.

Miguel scanned the screen of his watch on the key panel. The green light on the key panel indicated its recognition of Miguel, and soon the building’s front doors slid apart with a gentle hiss!

He straightened his tie before stepping into the building with you. You quickly noticed that Miguel exuded an air of professionalism and even regality—like a king ready to take on the weight of his kingdom.

“Technically, I’m the Chief Executive Officer of Spider-Society HQ.”

🍓 Strawbetty’s notes: If you read all the way to here, I give you a 🎃 cuz it’s Halloween season lol. Also thank you to @animusicnerd for proofreading this chapter throughout the two months I’ve been writing it 🫶

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[somenerdfromwhatever]

I haven’t seen The Owl House but can we just talk about how Disney did this show dirty?

Let me preface this by saying that, as of the time of me writing this, I have NOT seen The Owl House in its entirety l yet. I could be in the progress of it after posting, but honestly as an outsider looking in given the entire Season 3 fiasco, Disney did this show dirty.

Like three specials only? Nothing more nothing less? With that happening due to outcry because originally it was going to get canned after the release of Season 2?

I don’t think it was a fair deal to end with three specials. Season 3 should’ve gotten the fanfare it deserved even with the outcry. Like, it is the weakest compromise possible even with mass support.

I’m going to paraphrase some bits of what I addressed to people on discord and additional information I learnt.

I’m surprised there wasn’t more of an active effort to fight back against the cancellation since it first blew up upon announcement. Like “doesn’t fit the branding?” Didn’t Gravity Falls face something similar? By that logic, this doesn’t make sense at all. I feel like Disney’s “brand theming” excuse is really dodgy, and it seems like there was some foul play involved. But I didn’t see the fandom actively pushing back, even the creator, who did speak out about it. (Note: I haven’t been on Twitter for over a year and a half, so I might not be fully aware of everything.) If I watch it and it’s as amazing as people say… given how I am passionate about things in this world, I won’t let Disney live this down. It’s like treating art as a joke just to fill their pockets and the corruption the industry has over artists. We saw this last year with the strikes and given the current state with the companies running the industry nowadays (the streaming bubble, and that the whole cartoon mass purge thanks to Max)... artists are now having their creativity die out because of industry folk like Disney.

If there was pushback, I’m glad there was at least some effort to score these three specials. But if this is how far it went, it feels like an unfair compromise. Three specials aren’t enough, honestly. Even if they’re good, it doesn’t negotiate anything at all as it still feels like Disney did this show dirty. Let me be clear here as well: I am NOT beating down anyone who has taken the effort to get this. Why the hell would I do that? I'm happy you guys managed to get your voice out there and left and impact. Those three specials were hard fought, I just wish there was more because honestly, it isn't enough. And if the resentment I'm seeing is anything to go by a year later, I say keep fighting. I am also not beating down Dana, the showrunner. Dana is an amazing creator, and the fact that she stood her ground at all with her cast and crew is incredible. My problem is with the corporation, with Disney, and how they put her in a position where that fight couldn’t be won in the way it should have been. I understand the fight it takes to get your foot in the door of the industry. If I were to turn around and beat down someone like Dana, who fought for her vision just like I’m fighting for mine? I would never live that down. It would stain me for life. Considering the industry itself is small and how I am going into it in post-production, sometime down the line, I will be faced with working with her. The last thing I want is burning a bridge inadvertently. I can understand why she acted the way that she did with her crew, it's just with a lot more vocality and support, things might've been different.

Like I don’t get Disney’s thought process here. You have a big, popular show, and then you “old yeller” it, giving it this slow death and then dragging it out with this… in my honest opinion; weak compromise. That is scummy and why us artists and creatives need a reform to the entertainment industry where we drive the vision and what Disney and others do come second.

At best, it did what it was supposed to do. At worst… it’s not enough.

With everything that the fanbase done including the cast, crew, and even Dana, while I'm happy they managed to end it, I feel like there should have been more active effort. I do notice there is still a lot of resentment and I mean A LOT OF RESENTMENT. I noticed a lot of the fandom got a hashtag trending, some fanart mailed into Disney itself, but I'm surprised there isn't like a full on physical protest. Online can only do so much. Like imagine a D23 but everyone is in their cosplay of the show with signs having references to whatever the show has going on. I mean, sure, it is unheard of, but consider the compromise, how it was censored in other countries, maybe even how mistreated it got during the making of Season 3. Go to the heart of where decisions are made. If you feel strongly about the compromise, take that energy and turn it into real action. As an outsider who is about to come on, I feel you so much. I hope the show is really good when I watch it, but in case if I don't, you guys really deserve better. Honest. I could be wrong in all this there's more to the story then I realize, so please go easy with this. Thank you.