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baddest-batchers · 3 months

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When It Rains, It Pours

My Tech brainrot continues in this little ficlet. This adorable, balding man has captured me so and is living in my head rent free, so I present to you all this piece that came to me in the middle of the night last night. Not completely proofread. Enjoy!

Summary: Tech x fem!reader! It’s torrentially raining and you and Tech get caught up in it. Feelings are revealed and kisses ensue! 🌧️

Word count: 1.7k

Tag warnings: MDNI, whole lotta fluff, whole lotta kissin’. Gets a little heated towards the end. Soft!Tech goodness below.

Taglist: @stellarbit @techwrecker @alegendoftomorrow

Divider by @general-ida-raven

It was pouring rain on the backwater jungle planet you and Clone Force 99 were running, yet another, questionable job for Cid. You and Tech were on your way back from the village when the rain started falling. Both of you were too far outside the village to find a warm place to wait out the storm so, instead you and Tech sought shelter from the downpour beneath some trees outside of the surrounding town. They provided little respite from the incessant rain but it was better than standing out in the open.

Both of you were drenched, clothes sticking to your skin. You internally cursed at yourself for deciding to wear such a lightweight shirt and you quickly crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to maintain some of your body heat. Upon noticing you shivering from being completely soaked, Tech quickly undid the fastening of his blue vest, shaking it off of his shoulders and tossing it to the ground. With another swift movement he removed the white shirt underneath, it quickly becoming soaked through where his vest had covered his torso. Now only the top of his blacks remained and you watched with wide eyes and bated breath, wondering what in the stars he was doing, as he unzipped his collar down to its end just above his chest.

You quickly realized you were all but gawking at Tech as he was quickly removing the layers of his clothing and chose a spot on the ground to intently stare at so as to not make him uncomfortable as he undressed.

Tech stripped off the top of his blacks and held out his hand with the shirt bunched between his fingers. “Here, put this on.” He instructed. Your gaze met his, wide eyed and face flushed, as you reached for it, your fingertips grazing his as you took his shirt from him. Wordlessly you slipped it on over your own soaked civies top. After pulling your hair out from the collar, you began to roll the sleeves up, being that they were a bit too long on you given Tech’s height, your eyes flicked back over to him. He quickly began redressing himself, the white shirt clinging to his lean frame, blue vest now hanging unbuttoned on his shoulders.

Dropping your eyes again to the ground, you continued to roll the sleeves up. “Thank you, Tech. You really didn’t have to do that.” Your voice was thick with gratitude. You were thankful for the little warmth his shirt provided, but even more so it thrilled you because it smelled like him.

Tech took a moment to stop clasping the buttons on his vest to look at you. Drenched completely from the relentless rain, you were just as mesmerizing to him. He often found himself staring at you, taking in the way you walked or the way you focused on your tasks around the Marauder. It really didn’t matter to him what you were wearing, he always found you so beautiful. The kindness you showed to each of his brothers and the way you doted on his sister only made him fall harder. You were smart, resourceful, and caring beyond words. Tech realized in this very moment, gazing at you in the pouring rain and wearing his shirt no less, that he loved you.

You noticed Tech had ceased redressing himself and met his gaze with your own. You slowly stopped messing with the sleeves of his shirt. “Tech? Is..everything okay?” You searched his face, breath hitching slightly at the look in his eyes.

“Mesh’la..you are so beautiful.” His voice was the softest you had ever heard it. Combined with the sound of the rain and the hammering of his own heartbeat in his chest, he took one step closer to be sure you had heard him correctly. “You are the most beautiful person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing in my considerably short life.” Tech confessed, his eyes reflecting the sincerity of his words.

Your eyes blown wide and heat rising to your cheeks, you blinked the rain from your vision before realizing he had both your arms that were hanging at your sides in his firm grasp. “Tech, I…” The words wouldn’t come, your thoughts a complete and utter mess couldn’t formulate a single word to say back to him. Your eyes drifted down to his gentle grip on your arms then slowly, you brought your own hands to clutch the sopping white shirt that clung to his body at his sides. The tension between you was so palpable you felt as though you could reach out and touch it with your bare fingers.

“Forgive me if this is rather sudden and perhaps, you do not even feel the same way but I simply cannot hold back my feelings for you any longer. I love you. I have loved you for months and I am just now realizing it. I’m yours, and I believe I have always been yours, cyare.”

You blinked once, then twice, uncertain if you had heard him correctly or if you had somehow managed to dream up what was unfolding before you. You opened your mouth to respond but again words failed to form, so instead you reached up from his sides, releasing the grip on his shirt, and brought your hands to gently cup his face, pulling him down to your height and into a sweet and chaste kiss. Tech’s hands let go of your arms and slowly, so slowly, snaked their way around your waist, pulling you in to press against him.

You broke the kiss sooner than Tech wanted and stared up into his rain-streaked, goggled face, smiling up at him, you gently caressed his jaw with your finger tips. Tech leaned in further to kiss you again but you moved your index finger gently over his lips, stoping him from inching closer. His eyes met yours and something like worry and panic flashed in them. Had he over stepped your boundary? Was he being too hasty? But before he could ask any of those questions, you smiled up at him and sighed almost dreamily.

“Tech, I love you, too. I’ve always loved you.” Your eyes flit back and forth between his, taking in the way he’s staring back down at you from his height. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to tell you that.” You continue to smile up at him, cheeks flushed and eyes shining.

“Cyare…” Tech, his features softening again, trailed off in admiration, his eyes taking in every little detail of your features, “May I kiss you again? And if the answer is yes, will you be content if I never stop doing so?” His voice grew lower as he leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours and his goggles just barely brushing above your eyebrows, but not pushing himself closer until you answered him.

“Maker, Tech, yes. Kiss me. And don’t ever stop…please.” You whispered your plea, then closed your eyes in anticipation of his lips on yours.

That’s all it took, your words snapped his self restraint into a million pieces as his lips crashed into yours, needy and almost desperate, as though if he stopped to catch his breath you’d vanish into thin air.

His lips moved against yours with fervor, and his tongue begged entrance into your mouth. You immediately granted his silent request and let him explore, letting out small moans as he did. The sounds he was pulling from you were only making him hungrier for you; he never wanted to not hear those sounds.

Suddenly, you felt your body being moved backwards as you continued kissing. You felt the tree you both had been standing under against your back and Tech’s knee gently parting your thighs as he pressed in closer to you.

“You have no idea how many times I have thought of this very moment.” Tech sighed into the sweet spot beneath your ear. “You have invaded my every thought, every dream, and my very soul.” He pulled the collar of his shirt that you were wearing down so that he could trail tender kisses down your neck. “I do not ever wish to be parted from you.” His voice was husky and conveyed every bit of desire he had pent up within himself.

“Tech…” You moaned into his mouth as it found yours again.

“Tech, my love, I—” His lips captured yours again, cutting you off sweetly. The sound of his name on your lips made the fire in his core burn even hotter.

He was so attractive like this, needy and wanting, drenched from the rain and his short curls sticking to his forehead. You ached to have him closer and closer still.

“Tech…I..I need y—” Your plea was cut off by Hunter’s voice coming through Tech’s commlink.

“Tech, what’s your position?” Hunter asked, his question begged urgency.

Tech reluctantly ceased his wanting and needy kisses and pulled his comm from his belt. You let out a quiet whine at him pulling away.

Raising the comm to his lips and without taking his eyes off of you, he spoke into it, “We were on our way back to the ship when the rain started. We stopped to wait out the storm but will be there momentarily.”

“Acknowledged. Hurry it up, the rest of the squad is waiting.” Hunter ordered and severed the connection. Replacing his comm to his belt, Tech leaned down and pressed a longing kiss to your lips and then to your forehead.

“We should go, but I hope we may continue this sometime later.” He said softly, cupping your face with one hand and tucking a strand of hair with his other hand that was stuck to your cheek behind your ear.

You reached up and placed your hand over his, leaning more into his palm and smiled up at him. “I’d love to continue this later on.” Your voice gave way to the desire that was still burning hot in your chest.

With your hand intertwined with his, both of you set off into the pouring rain, not even caring if it made you shiver because the heat with which Tech kissed you was enough to keep you warm all the way back to the Marauder.

•••

#I need to go lie down now #my delusions for tech continue #the bad batch #star wars #tbb #tbb tech #tech x reader #tech x fem!reader #the bad batch fic #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #baddest batcher writes

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justpoliteconversations · 5 months

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About the apple merchant story (it lives rent free in my mind always): Please let me hug Link please. One hug. Just one. Please he makes me so sad dhshsjsj

For the little shadowling that came to say hello.

---

Embrace [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Apple Merchant Extra)

What if Link had teleported home immediately after defeating Vah Ruta? (An alternative route for after Part 6.)

(Far too tired to edit tonight. I'll do it later.)

Part: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Alternate Extras: Embrace

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.

---

Blue had come to you in the dead of night (just as you were finally getting ready to sleep after a long day's travel), dressed in full sheikah armor and eyes as dispassionate as they've ever been. And maybe you'd have believed that too, had Red not confided in you all those weeks ago. And if not for the words that left her in a low, monotones whisper.

"Courageous One's beloved. I request your presence." She'd intoned, but you could hear the command in her voice even as she remained in a subservient position kneeled at your bedside. "Master Link is in need of your comfort. Lest he falter in his duties as Hyrule's Hero."

You wanted to question her as to this sudden and unexpected change of heart regarding the sheikah's intentions, but you restrained yourself. Taking that prickling curiosity at the forefront of your mind and pushing it away in favor of the unease that permeated within your heart instead.

"The zora." You mumbled quietly, letting your gaze fixate on the blankets laid warmly on your legs. Displeasure trying to crawl up your throat and take home in your thoughts. But you shook away those spiteful whispers before they could poison your heart.

You disapproved of the hatred the elder zora held towards Link (and by extension, hyrulians). It was cruel of them to lay blame for Ganon's crimes upon his victims without regard to how the story had unfolded. To use them as scapegoats when the true focus of their ire was out of reach and far beyond their power to defeat.

It was an addicting kind of self-soothing that had been left to fester throughout their long lives, fueled by their guilt and fear. Guilt for their powerlessness, and fear not just for the world's future, but for that of their beloved royal family.

As told by the grape vine that weaves thickly through the Stable System, King Dorephan had lost his beloved mate too soon (the cause was kept quiet, but rumor has it it had been to birthing complications). Shortly after the birth of their son, Prince Sidon, in fact (thier second child and their only spare).

And after her passing the King choose to never take another (a controversial decision), instead spending the rest of his breeding years grieving his dearly departed and raising their heirs instead of producing more spares to ensure the royal bloodline in those turbulent times.

(Yet, the King received only whispered sympathy from his people, and the young Prince adored all the more for his status as final heir to a beloved, departed Queen.

It's always been easiest to demonize an unfamiliar face, after all. Easier to spit upon another race than to fault the heart of a grief stricken man and an innocent child.)

With the death of their Princess, Mipha, the zoras had lost not just a beloved healer and gracious future ruler. They lost half of their royal bloodline, their future. They who's ears reach the Goddesses' songs, or some such saying (in other words, gigantism, an inheritable trait found only in the zora's royal family line. by magic or genetic mutation, you didn't know).

And so, the zora of the time had taken their fear and guilt and unspoken grievances and shaped it into the hatred that only future generations seem to have been able to deluded from their racial conscience. Sidon, the Prince himself, being a shining example of this. And honestly, may well have been the spark for this (positive) change in the zora's newest generation as well.

There was a reason you never bothered trying to enter Zora's Domain. And it wasn't even the lizalfors. Though maybe in a few decades, you might give it a try.

Blue nodded at your quiet utterance, eyes cold and sharp under the veil of feigned disinterest. And you wondered, silently, what she was feeling right now. If she was truly so angered on Link's behalf, or if she was frustrated at her superiors for making this level of secrecy necessary (it had not escaped your notice that everyone in the stable was far too quiet for simple sleep. even the desk attendant was slumped over, quiet. chest barely moving. drugged).

Maybe even both. Even as removed from the sheikah's plotting as you were, you still understood that the girls were making independent moves outside of their given assignments. Perhaps even going against orders (their direct superior's orders, not yours. surprisingly. or perhaps not so surprising given Red's apparent fondness for your rupees, the opportunistic jerk).

None of that mattered right now though. Not even the yiga and the very real threat they still posed to your life.

All that mattered was Link, and that he was distraught enough to force the twins' hands to such an extent. That the situation was bad enough to ask permission to temporarily disregard the established agreement (bound by contract and enough rupees to tempt a saint).

"Take me to him." You said quietly, hands clutching the bedspread. Fingers twisted into silky cloth tight enough to hurt. Letting the soft, plush weight of it sooth your agitated nerves. Grounding yourself from the whirlwind of emotions that wanted to overwhelm you even as you kept your tone smooth and even. "Please."

She nodded, moving closer with eeriely silent strides and plucking you from the bed with frightening ease (you hadn't even realized what was happening until you were in her armor clad arms). The suddenness of the action nearly pulled a gasp from your lips. But it caught in your throat at the sudden speed as which she was all but flying through the moonlit fields.

She was such a a small woman. Seemingly delicate as a butterfly's flutter and soft as blossom petals. Yet you could feel the way her muscles pushed at your weight with unyielding strength.

In that moment, she felt as tall and imposing as a mountain. As solid as stone and as powerful as a hurricane ripping along the coastline.

In that moment, you were reminded that this woman (these women, beautiful and graceful and spirited both) were warriors. Born and raised. Trained until their hands bled and their bones twisted into the steel of a tempered blade.

And you had never felt more protected than in Blue's arms.

(Spit in the eye of the elders, Red had said. You were certain this woman would sooner stab them in the face.)

You just hoped that strength would be enough to protect Link until he was strong enough to protect himself. And enough to protect her as well. From whatever it was that had stolen the light from her eyes.

---

You weren't sure whether to be impressed by Blue's speed, or irritated that she managed to undo a day's worth of travel in just a couple hours (how the in world were you going to explain this to Skims and Adino? Red most certainly won't be any help. you can already tell). But one thing was for sure, you were never going to piss this woman off. That was for damned sure.

That wasn't what had your attention at the moment though. That was the sight of Link tied by the wrists to his bed, blindfolded.

And why was Red here, sitting at the table as though this was a perfectly normal thing to walk into (how had she even gotten here before you and Blue? why hadn't she been the one to take you back to Hateno if she was going to be here anyway)?

Link was awake and alert, pinched brows and down turned mouth looking just as befuddled (and maybe even a bit scared) as yourself at the current happenings. His delicate ears tracking your footsteps (Blue's were quiet, even on hardwood floors. what a scary realization) as you moved up the stairs and closer to his bed (your blanket dragging slightly across the floor, too heavy and thick to comfortably carry in your arms).

He was handsome for sure, all long blonde hair, elegantly sharp features and lithe muscle. But not quite as flawless as he had been portrayed as in the games (which was to be expected, but was still jarring. even after having come to terms with the reality of this world's imperfections).

The scars were by far the most prominent detail about him, even accounting for his noble features and toned physic. Hard, knotted patches of discolored skin sprawled across the left side of his face, shoulders and chest. Pink and raw looking, for all it was plain to see these horrendous burn marks had long since healed.

His skin too, was another thing that set him apart from his game presentation. Where as the game had shown Link to possess a pretty peach complexion with rosy cheeks, the man before you was off-puttingly pale (almost grey in the cheeks). So much so it was concerning. With the beginnings of a tan just beginning to take form on his forehead and the bridge of his nose.

Sick. You realized link was sick. No. That wasn't quite right. It wasn't sickness that seemed to be clinging to him like a veil.

Had Link ever fully recovered from his time trapped in the shrine?

Your memories of the game were foggy and unclear after so much time spent in this world. But there was one thing you did remember clearly when you pulled at the strings of your memories.

It was Zelda's voice, urging Link up from his slumber (tired and pleading, after 100 years of fighting a battle of wills). And Link, hitting the ground running. Without thought for his own wellbeing. Without consideration for his still recovering body. Just bullheaded determination and an unbreakable spirit driving him forward.

Your stomach clenched at the realization. Something that hadn't truly hit you with its entirety until you had finally cast your gaze upon the very man who had lived through it all (was still living through it).

Not a game character. Not the concept of heroism given humanoid form. But a man, small and confused and fighting to right the wrongs of a hundred years ago. Having to accept that everything he once had was gone now. And that he must now fight a battle he doesn't even remember having a stake in.

You cast a questioning (concerned) look over at Blue. But she ignored you, instead saying softly (and far less tensely than when you were at the stables) to Link. "Courageous one. Your beloved is here to offer you comfort."

Link tilted his head. Uncomprehending.

Blue cast a glance towards Red, who nodded quietly. Not even looking up from whatever she was doing at the table.

At the gesture, Blue continued. "They may not speak to you." She cast a cool glance your way, the hard glint of her eyes telling you more than a thousand words ever could. "And you are forbidden from touching them. This is to ensure you will not be tempted to- memorize their voice or distinctive features."

A moment of silence. Then confusion. And then (finally) the dawning light of comprehension seemed to line every inch of his diminutive form.

The change in him was immediate. Link's whole entire body tensed, the bonds at his wrists creaking under the pressure he was exerting on them in his stiffened state (as did the headboard. and you had a feeling only Blue's presence was keeping him from breaking free with brute force). His chest nearly shaking with the intensity of whatever emotions held him in their sway.

His face had twisted into a complicated expression. Lips taunt, scars pulled tight at the skin of his face (what was visible through the blindfold) and fair brows pulled into an almost grimace.

One breath. Two. And then, he spoke. "AM." He breathed, quiet and shaking. Raspy, dry and unpleasant (and beloved. so much so your heart ached with the feeling). "AM. I-" And just like that, his voice broke. Fractured. Shattered.

His hands tensed into fists, his teeth grit against the pull of his lips. His shoulders shook.

And you just. Moved.

Dropping the blankets, nearly tripping over the bulk of them in your haste, you fell hands first onto the bed. Barely taking the time to regain your balance before slotting yourself into Link's side (warm and solid and so very alive) and pressing yourself into his space.

You ignored his tensed form. His shudder as your night chilled clothes pressed against his own skin warmed ones. And spooned into his side as best you could with his arms bound above his head. Your upper body laid against his own, arms wrapped around his chest and head tucked under his chin. Trying to cover as much of him as possible (trying to hide him from the world and everything it demanded of him. trying to absorb all that pained his heart into your own body).

You squeezed him with all your might (pitiful though it may have been to someone physically blessed as the goddess' chosen champion), words sitting at the tip of your tongue, begging to be spoken. Unsaid and burning at the base of your throat. Held back only by the strength of your resolve, and the silent promise to do better.

To fight with everything in your power to do right by this man.

A man who had been demanded to give everything for the greater good. Even if it meant making a deal with the devil itself. Even if it meant losing himself. All. Over. Again.

You would make sure this man succeeded.

You would make sure he thrived.

His chest heaved under you, breaths coming in short, ragged gasps (quiet though, as though afraid to rise above a faint whisper). His throat bobbing under your cheek in thick, painful sounding swallows. His entire body was shaking, and you could feel the warmth of something wet soaking into the crown of your hair.

You squeezed harder, pushing every once of your care and devotion into the action. Gritting your teeth against the torrent of warmth that flooded behind your eyes, burning, demanding to be released. Demanding that you do more than just cling to him in a bid at comfort.

The tension in his body released all at once, and a ragged sob forced its way out of his throat. Long and raw and achingly vulnerable. Like nothing you've ever heard before.

And you sobbed right along with him, bitting back all the words you wished to tell him more than anything. Cursing the circumstances that had led to this moment.

And so thankful too. Thankful that you could be here in his time of need. Even if all you could do was hold him as he cried. As he broke apart beneath you.

And so, you sobbed all the harder. For the Link that had had to cry alone once upon a time.

---

Back to the shadows.

Tagging: @littlepanda7 @2000babies @danyzta

#botw link #isekai reader #botw x reader #link x reader #link x you

204 notes · View notes

yunhoszn · 6 months

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(this is user sourkimchi pls don’t perceive me on main lmao)

i saw another user post this abt this hongjoong fit and it’s been living in my head rent free…

as a fellow asian rave bisexual.. i need a fic for this concept 🫣

(not so) alcohol-free

PAIRING kim hongjoong x f!reader

WORD COUNT 3.46k

GENRES fluff?﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, clubbing scene, reader feels self conscious, mentions of alcohol, strangers to lovers?, ummmmm hardly any plot tbh half of the wc is porn, couch sex, little bit of foreplay (vaginal fingering), some marking here and there i think, cowgirl position, missionary, protected sex, allusions to multiple rounds of unprotected sex, not beta’d or proofread bc we rawdog this shit like men

SUMMARY notorious for canceling plans at the last minute, you finally let your friends drag you out for a night at the club. however, a chance encounter with the prettiest man you’ve ever seen has the night turning to something unexpected.

MORE AAAAAAND i finally finished my first request LOLLLLL here u go yves!! i kinda strayed away from the main idea bc i wanted to make it my own, but i hope this meets ur expectations <3

@atzhouse

You had a natural affinity for canceling plans at the last minute. You’re not sure why, especially because you always get an awful case of FOMO every time you do. It’s your own fault that you feel left out when your friends get together without you.

No matter how far in advance you plan for the event, you somehow still find a way to lose your motivation to go. You haven’t properly hung out with your friend group in months, so when they start talking about clubbing tonight, you immediately say yes.

At first, you think you’ll change your mind an hour later, since it’s only an afternoon’s notice. But when you realize your friends will be here to pick you up in thirty minutes and you’re finishing your makeup, you nearly jump for joy. You successfully stuck it out for once.

Even as you’re sandwiched between Wooyoung and Mingi in the backseat, San in the drivers’ seat and his girlfriend in the passenger, you’re still shocked that this is your reality. You’re actually dolled up and you’re actually on your way to a club right now.

“Y/N, do you remember the signal if someone hits on me?”

“Wooyoung, no one’s hitting on you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Mingi. It could happen.”

You snort, pulling your skirt down a little. “Woo, we should come up with a signal for if I get hit on.”

“Yeah, Y/N’s more likely to get laid than you are even though she’s bitchless, too.” Mingi nods, adjusting his sunglasses. (You have no idea why he’s wearing sunglasses at 10 PM.)

“Kill your—”

“We’re here!” San announces, effectively putting a pin in any argument that was about to begin. As long as your friendship with the males spanned, he’s always been the mediator. You’ve known the three of them dating all the way back to high school, lumped in the same homeroom your freshman year. The four of you sat in the same general vicinity and got grouped together for a project once and you’ve been inseparable ever since.

You know you look hot, Wooyoung wolf-whistling at you the moment you started walking towards the car, but you still feel a bit insecure. It probably has everything to do with the fact that you don’t go out much and you’re self-conscious as is. Stepping into the crowded club, a scene that could only be compared to a sardine can, has you shrinking in on yourself.

Instinctively, you tug on the hem of your skirt to attempt to cover your ass a little more. Then you wrap your arms around your midriff, though your cleavage leaves pretty much nothing to the imagination. You swallow thickly as your trail behind your friends, like a lost puppy with its tail between its legs.

This is why you always back out of plans. You feel so out of place, like you don’t fit in even when people try to include you. It feels like everyone’s staring at you, waiting for one wrong move so they can point and laugh like you were the butt of some sort of weird joke. You’re ready to go home.

“Are you okay?” Mingi asks once you’ve settled at an empty high table just a few feet from the dance floor. Through his stupid sunglasses, you can make out the concern on his features.

“Yeah, I think so,” your lips purse, arms hugging yourself tighter. “I just haven’t been out in so long. I feel… like I shouldn’t be here or something. I’ll be fine. I hope.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, but doesn’t ask any more questions, instead turning to San and his girlfriend who were about to make a trip to the bar. Your poison for the night is simple, a plain margarita that’ll ease your nerves more than anything else. You weren’t much of a beer person, often opting for fruitier, sweeter drinks in comparison to your male counterparts. (When you do go out with them, that is.)

Wooyoung and Mingi fall into a heated discussion about who knows what, leaving you to become a third wheel while you wait for the couple to come back with your drinks. You people-watch to pass the time, chewing on the inside of your lip, your eyes flitting around the club like some kind of guilty criminal. Almost immediately, they land on a guy in the middle of the dance floor.

He’s hypnotizing, body fluidly moving to the song the DJ’s playing and matching the energy of his friend standing next to him, two girls in front of and facing them. His dark hair falls into his eyes slightly, though parted and styled damn near perfectly. He’s dressed in a black tweed jacket, a white button up left open enough to reveal a couple necklaces resting on his sternum, some ripped jeans, and black boots. But none of that is what caught your attention.

You’re entranced by his smile, its brightness and how fucking pretty he looks wearing it. You caught the tail-end of something his friend said that made him laugh, and you feel yourself being pulled in deeper and deeper without a single conversation with him. Too bad he seems unavailable.

“Woah, N/N, might wanna wipe your chin,” Wooyoung teases, a stupid smirk on his face that you want to punch away. “I think you’re drooling a little.”

Mingi howls with laughter, falling onto the table to support himself. He clutches at his stomach as it cramps up from how hard he’s laughing. It wasn’t even that funny. You roll your eyes.

“Shut up, Wooyo.”

“Who are you even staring at?” He inquires, resting his elbows on the high top surface, his chin placed on his hands. He blinks at you expectantly, like he’s not letting you off the hook. You avoid his gaze, simultaneously ensuring that you don’t look in the attractive stranger’s general direction either. This all felt so elementary.

“None of your business.” You murmur, ducking your head. Thankfully, San and his girlfriend return to the table with your drinks perfectly timed, and the topic is dropped completely.

The first sip of your margarita is damn near heavenly, the alcohol flowing through your system smoothly and calming that storm waging in your mind. It’s not too strong, just enough that another couple drinks would inebriate you entirely. It aids with the anxiety of being in such a packed space, but that feeling of not belonging still sits inside your chest.

You can’t help but look for the stranger again, who’s no longer on the dance floor. Now he’s on the other side of the club at another high table. His friend is still with him, but the girls from before are nowhere to be found. You focus on his hands and the chunky rings on his fingers, the way he holds his beer bottle, the way his free hand runs through his hair. Your tongue twirls around the straw in your glass out of habit, enthralled by this man who has yet to give you the time of day.

Except when you glance up to admire his face, you discover that he’s already looking back at you. He’s nodding along to his friend’s words, but his eyes are zeroed in on you, a different kind of smile playing on his lips. Your features fall slightly from being caught red handed, cheeks warming up significantly. You aren’t sure what’s more embarrassing, caught gawking at a stranger by your own friend or by the stranger himself. Truly, the universe was out to get you.

You down the rest of your margarita and excuse yourself to go to the restroom, needing a second to gather your bearings. Your skin is flushed and you have to hold your cheeks between your palms as you psych yourself up in the mirror. Why should you feel ashamed of thinking someone’s hot? You were only human. Besides, you looked good, too.

When you exit the restroom, you’re shocked to see the stranger walking out of the men’s restroom at the same time. Your eyes are wide and your body freezes. He gives you that smile from before, ruffling his hair as if this interaction wasn’t difficult enough.

“I was hoping I’d bump into you,” he says, unabashedly drinking in your figure. “It’s not everyday someone as gorgeous as you crosses my path.”

So he’s a flirt. Noted.

“I could say the same,” you manage to get out, though your palms are already clamming up. “If fleeting glances across a dance floor count as crossing paths.”

He laughs and you swear it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard. A couple girls come into the hallway, and you maneuver so they can go into the women’s restroom. His hand comes to rest on your lower back when your balance wavers slightly.

“I’m Hongjoong, by the way,” he introduces himself since he’s in such close proximity to you now. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Yeah, sure,” you nod, too distracted by how much prettier he is only inches away from you. “I’d like that.”

Hongjoong leads you to the bar, a gentle hand wrapped around your wrist so he doesn’t lose you in the crowd. He orders himself a beer and turns to you to ask what you’re having. While waiting for the bartender to whip up your drinks, he strikes up a conversation.

“Are you gonna tell me your name?”

You scratch the back of your neck sheepishly. “Oh yeah, sorry… It’s Y/N.”

He repeats it, like he’s testing out the taste in his mouth. The smile that graces his features afterwards says all you need to know. It has butterflies flapping around rampantly in the pit of your stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of you. He thanks the bartender seconds later when he slides your margarita and his beer bottle across the bar.

“So, Y/N, what brings you out tonight?” He takes a swig from his bottle, one arm leaning onto the surface of the bar. God, the things you would do to him if given the chance…

“Catching up with my friends,” you answer honestly, baby-sipping your margarita through the straw. “I don’t really go out much, because I’m really bad when it comes to canceling plans at the last minute.”

“Should I consider myself lucky then?” Hongjoong quirks a brow, licking his lower lip. If men had anything, it was the audacity. And this man had the audacity to do everything in his power to lure you in with his good looks and charisma.

“I’ll have you know that this is a one of a kind, once in a lifetime opportunity,” you play along, stirring the slowly-melting ice cubes around your glass. “You’re a very fortunate man.”

“Yeah?” He laughs again and you think you might faint right here and now. He looks off to the other side of the club and then back at you. “I think Prince Charming over there is looking for you.”

He points at the table where your friends are, and you find that Wooyoung is glancing around in search of something, or someone. Namely you. It’s most likely because you went to the restroom and then never returned. He’ll live.

“Wooyoung? Nah, he’s just being a good friend. I raised him right,” you turn back to him, sipping at your drink leisurely. “Now where were we? Something about you being lucky?”

“Hwa, I’ll— shit— I’ll have to call you back,” Hongjoong forces out, promptly hanging up so he can focus on putting you in your place. You’re like a damn leech, lips attached to his neck, marking the supple skin like it was your job. Your hands paw at the button of his jeans, your lower half grinding down on his lap. “So fucking impatient. Can’t even wait until I’m off the phone?”

“Want you too bad, Joong,” you pout, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt, his jacket lost somewhere near the front door. He groans when the nickname falls from your mouth. You had no idea how sexy you were.

The two of you were so insatiable, you couldn’t even make it to the bedroom, collapsing on his couch. You hardly had the mind to message your friends to let them know your whereabouts. His hands hold your ass firmly, halting you from any further teasing. You whine, pushing his shirt off of his shoulders. Your nails drag down his toned abdomen, enjoying the way it tenses beneath your touch. After all he’s put you through tonight, you think you at least deserve a bit of payback. Just a bit.

“Are you too antsy to make it through foreplay?” He coos and presses a quick kiss to your lips, trailing a few along your jawline. Your eyes flutter shut with a hum and a nod. It was true. If he didn’t fuck you soon, you feared you might go insane.

“I need you inside me already,” you whine, trying to spread your legs and create more friction downstairs. He chuckles at how desperate you are, how touch starved you must be considering you don’t get out much. It fuels his pride knowing he’s the only one to see you like this, to have you like this, for the first time in who knows how long. If he’s successful, maybe he’ll be the only one ever.

Hongjoong bunches your skirt around your waist, sneaking a hand between your bodies to rub tight, gentle circles into your clothed clit. A blissful sigh escapes you, your forehead dropping to his shoulder. The cocky smile you’ve grown to adore over the course of the night decorates his lips at how quickly he has you falling apart at his fingertips.

His middle and ring digits push your underwear to the side, sliding down your slit to prod at your entrance. He nips at the base of your throat, working his way up to the spot behind your ear. Your sighs grow into whimpers, squirming around on his lap when he applies pressure to your cunt with the pad of his middle finger.

“You’re so wet, sweetheart,” he mutters into your skin, shivers running down your spine from the low register he uses. He circles his digit around your hole, not quite giving you what you need. “You weren’t kidding about how bad you wanted me.”

You’re about to quip back, but then he’s inserting a finger and rubbing your clit with his thumb. You gasp, biting down on his collarbone to ground yourself. As much as you would love to sit here and let him finger you until sunrise, you have bigger priorities. “Mmm, Joong, please… Fuck me, please…”

He kisses his teeth, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. He supposes he can satiate your hunger, though he really wanted to take his time with you. “Do you think you can be still while I put the condom on?”

You pull back and nod enthusiastically, sitting on your haunches slightly, fingers locked behind his neck. “I’ll be so good, I promise. I just need you, like, now.”

All he can do is laugh, and you melt into a puddle in his arms. You’ve concluded that smile of his would quite honestly be the death of you. He removes his fingers from your pussy, instead squeezing your hip before helping you onto the couch cushion beside him. You rest on your knees as he unbuttons his jeans and kicks them off, swiftly grabbing his wallet out of his pocket and plucking a condom from it. In the same breath, he’s taking off his underwear and tugging you back on top of him.

He places the foil packet between his teeth so he can quickly aid you in the discarding of your panties. Now that your cunt is bare, you can feel the heat of his cock and it’s so hypnotic. Your eyes can barely stay open as you watch him tear open the condom packet and roll it on. He’s the perfect thickness and the perfect length, and you feel so special straddling his lap right now.

Hongjoong kisses you softly, gripping your waist so he can guide you to sit on his cock. The first breach of your entrance has a shaky exhale leaving your lips against his own. You stay like that for a second so you can adjust to the feel of him inside of you, the fullness in your lower half, and overall just how fucking good it feels. He grins when you slowly start bouncing up and down, his dick thrusting in and out under you.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” He pecks your cheek, moving downward and reaching behind your back to untie your halter top. It slips off of you with ease, revealing your tits to him.

“So good, Joong… Feels so good,” you arch into him, whining and moaning every time he brushes that crook in your cunt that has you seeing stars. He peppers kisses all over your chest and sternum, scraping his teeth along the skin of your breast. You whimper, nails sinking into his back and your toes curling. You’re completely aware of what’s going on, but those two margaritas have to be contributing to the pleasure swirling in your abdomen.

“Yeah? You’re taking me so fucking well,” His eyebrows knit together when you switch your pace, sitting on him fully and letting his cock fill you for a couple seconds. In reality, your knees were starting to ache and get tired, something he recognizes instantly because he was so attentive.

His hand holds the small of your back and he flips you so you’re in missionary on the couch now without skipping a beat. The change in position allows for a change in angle, his dick dragging against your velvety walls deliciously. Your sounds grow in volume, scratching his back when he pushes one of your knees to your chest.

You weren’t anticipating to end up here at the end of the night, but you don’t think you could dare complain. While a majority of this night felt like a fever dream, you feel a high that’s never taken over you before.

Hongjoong’s hair falls into his eyes as he glances down at where your bodies meet, his cock disappearing inside of you and then sliding out with ease. You intertwine your fingers behind his head, pulling him down so you can connect your lips in a fervent, passionate kiss. That familiar summit is within view now, your hand nudging his own to your clit so you can inch closer towards it.

His thumb swipes side to side on the sensitive bundle of nerves, never once breaking your kiss. There’s so much stimulation going on for you, you’re starting to feel dizzy. In a good way. He’s gentle in a way that’s still rough enough to knock the daylights out of you and the juxtaposition makes the moment all the more enjoyable.

“‘M so close, Joong,” you arch off the sofa in an attempt to be closer to him, to sandwich yourself between him and the couch.

His thrusts become faster and more calculated, but he doesn’t break the focus on your clit. His efforts come to fruition and he mumbles words of encouragement for you as you finally reach that boiling point. A strangled moan falls from your mouth and you spread your legs to suck him in further.

The uncontrollable fluttering of your walls following your climax is almost too much for him and he has to pull out. Your eyes are half lidded, nimble fingers rolling off the condom. He fucks his fist until he’s painting the area between your tits with his cum.

The two of you don’t move right away, regaining your composure. He leans down to kiss you sweetly, and then repeats the action all over your face until you’re a giggly mess. This is probably the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, and part of you doesn’t want to go home— whether that be later or tomorrow morning.

“Do you have the energy to go again, or should I go grab a warm washcloth to clean you up?” He raises an eyebrow at you, indicating that he’s just joking but he’s totally down if you are. You laugh, running your fingers through his hair.

“If you give me a minute, I’m all set to do that again,” you start, resting your eyes for a second. “You don’t have to worry about a condom this time. I kinda wanna feel you raw.”

Hongjoong laughs in disbelief, glancing away from you and then letting his forehead fall onto your shoulder. “What have I gotten myself into…”

#atzhouse #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #ateez hongjoong x reader #ateez hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #yunhoszn #📮 — reqs

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iliketangerines · 3 months

Note

I know you do like hybrid reader but do you do hybrid animal mk men? If so- electric eel Raiden has been living rent free in my head- or like wolf Reiko- but more electric eel Raiden. How he’d accident shock reader or being her food whenever she’s by the river 🥰 how he’d see her play with the village children in the river from a far and wish that reader would carry his clutch of eggs and mother them.

good pup

a/n: hmmm...might make a part two because i really want to wite nasty a/b/o smut for fun. also, i do have an electric eel raiden fic up here. also, i do NOT condone this behavior in real life

pairing: wolf!reiko x gn!reader

warnings: noncon (kind of?), nothing explicit

you enter the court, clenching your hands nervously as you look at the bystanders towering over you and the other Earthrealm defenders

looking back to Sindel, perched on her throne and tail swishing behind her elegantly, she resembles a lion to you, ears flicking as she addresses you and Lord Liu Kang

the princesses with their own tails and ears take place on their thrones, watching with keen eyes at how the five of you will adapt to Outworld

you can see General Shao, his horns curving up to the ceilings and heavy dragon tail curled up next to his feet as he glowers at the five of you

he introduces his finest soldier Reiko and gestures to a tall man walking in, wearing black face paint and his ears twitching as he walks in

his tail swishes behind him, and he looks much like a wolf, a predator ready to strike and kill with bared fangs

Raiden tenses in front of you, and you let out a small mumble under your breath, trying to give him silent encouragement and perhaps yourself too

Reiko bares his teeth, sharp fangs on display as his ears pin flat to his head, and he towers easily over Raiden and everyone else alike

suddenly, the warrior’s eyes snap to you, and you jolt as his gaze seems to stab through you, tearing out every secret and thought that you’ve ever had

you break eye contact immediately, looking down to the ground and stepping back a bit to hide behind Kung Lao and Kenshi

the fight begins soon afterwards, and you watch as Raiden effortlessly uses his amulet to fight and win against Reiko

the wolf growls at the champion, and quickly gets up, ears pinned back tightly as General Shao then comes to take his soldier’s place and fight against Raiden

as you watch the ensuing fight, a shiver runs down your back, and you find Reiko still staring at you, nose twitching as he continues to just stare

it unnerves you, and you try to turn your attention back and try to take your mind off of how he can’t stop looking at you

Raiden wins once more, and General Shao stalks off angrily, tail whipping behind in frustration and feet causing the ground to slightly shake underneath you

Reiko follows behind his general but not before licking his lips and finally tearing his gaze away from you, trotting away with his master

you shake off the interaction and congratulate Raiden for his win, patting him on the back as you all head back to your rooms for a personal celebration and wind down until the banquet

time passes faster than any of you can blink and soon enough the five of you sit in the banquet, and you sit by Kenshi as you feel the texture of the cloth covering the table

it was softer and nicer than anything you could and would ever own, and you wonder how long someone had spent making the cloth only for it to be used as a dining table cover

you’re shaken out of your thoughts as Reiko and General Shao walk over and sit right next to you, the wolf taking a seat right next to you, not even trying to hide how he stares at you

it makes you wriggle in your seat, and you notice how his nails resemble claws and try to suppress a shiver as he sniffs the air again

thankfully, the servers start to bring out food, and you distract yourself with listening to the conversations around you and eating every bit of the food

you listen to Kenshi judge Kung Lao for eating so much, you listen to Johnny flirting hopelessly with Kitana, and you listen to the singers in the background

paying attention to everything except the wolf staring you down and making your insides turn with nervousness

did you smell or stink or something? why else would he be so intent on sniffing the air every minute?

Kenshi seems to notice your discomfort and throws an arm around your shoulder to drag you in closer to his and Kung Lao’s conversation, but the both of you hear Reiko’s loud growl

the wolf stands up, chair falling over and slamming down onto the ground, and it makes both you and Kenshi jump at the rudeness of it all

Reiko huffs for a moment, looking seconds away from ripping Kenshi into shreds, and General Shao tells the soldier to stand down

for a moment, it looks like Reiko will disobey, eyes firmly planted on the hand on your shoulder, but slowly he picks his chair up and sits down, still growling quietly

Kenshi and Kung Lao send you a glance, and you shrug your shoulders, unknowing of why the wolf seemed so angered by a simple gesture

you try to ignore him for the rest of the night, but it becomes increasingly hard as Reiko stares you down, forgoing even eating the food on his plate

the conversation is stilted and stiff as you try to play it off, but somehow you make it through, clenching onto the expensive dining table cover and picking at the threads

finally, General Shao has an outburst and marks the end of the dinner, and you hurriedly stand up to get away from the presence next to you

and then, you feel his clawed hands grip onto yours and drag you into his arms, and his nose buries itself into your neck, breathing in your scent heavily

you freeze, unsure of what to even do, shocked by his boldness and the forwardness

only when you feel sharp teeth sinking into your neck and a sharp burning pain spark through your body, does your body snap into action, slamming the warrior into the ground and releasing yourself from his grip

there’s yelling and angry shouting from around you, but Reiko just laughs, your blood dripping from his teeth and your neck still burning much more than what a bite should be

he smiles up at you, ears perked up as he says that you’re his, his pretty little mate, and you bare your own canines and growl, asking what the hell did he mean by that

you knew exactly what he meant, biology had never left your mind, but you couldn’t believe him, refused to believe this wolf

wolves mated for life, you knew that, and you also knew your lifespan would be a blink in comparison to his lifespan

and yet, the pain in your neck burned and spread like molten lava running down your body and filling your body with a angry pain

you let go of him, scratching at your body, trying to get rid of the feeling and gasping for air, and you close your eyes to try and ease the pain rushing through you

whimpers and screams of pain rip out of your throat, and you can hear the muffled sound of fighting in the background

it all seems irrelevant to the way you can feel your body giving up, black dots dancing behind your eyelids, and you gasp for one more breath of air as you pass out

you’re not sure when you wake up or when the pain had subsided, but you wake up in the medical wing, staring at high ceilings and sunlight trickling through the curtains surrounding your bed

turning your head to the side you find Liu Kang, lips pursed and hands clasped together, and a feeling of dread curls in your stomach at his concerned expression

he starts slowly, explaining what has happened since you’ve passed out, that Kung Lao, Kenshi, and Johnny have been sent on a mission to find someone

that when you passed out Reiko had gone to you and Kenshi had thrown a punch at the warrior and started a fight

and that you were now of Outworld

you blink at the last sentence and let out a small what, sitting up in your cot and staring at the remorseful looking god, and you ask him to explain

he lets out a small breath and explains slowly, that when Reiko had bitten you, it had caused an irreversible bond between the two of you and had quite literally shifted all of your DNA to be of Outworld origin

you no longer belonged to Earthrealm, and due to Outworld customs and to hold the fragile peace between Earthrealm and Outworld, you would become Reiko’s and Liu Kang could do nothing about it

you start to laugh, it all sounded so insane, your entire body quite literally rearranging on a genetic level to match Outworld’s and that you now belonged to a man you had never met

tears start to fall down your face as you realize exactly the type of position that you’re in, and Liu Kang lets you sob into your hands as he waits for you calm down

the curtain rips open, and Liu Kang snaps at Reiko to leave

you look up and find the warrior looking at you, tail wagging and fangs bared in a smile, and you want to kill him, tackle him and pin him down and beat the shit out of him

but you can’t find it in your body to try and attack him, but at least your tears have dried up out of sheer anger towards the warrior

he coos at you, walking over to you and crawling into the bed and burying his nose into your neck and licking at the wound

you try to move, to do something, to push him off of you, but your body disagrees, trembling and going limp in his hold instead, head tilting back to let him have better access

looking to Liu Kang, he can only ask Reiko to get off of you once more, and the wolf growls at him, grip on you becoming tighter

you can smell something, you can smell Reiko, something wafting from him, strong and like ash, and you can feel your body relaxing against your will, eyelids drooping down as you hear Reiko whisper that you’re all his, only his, and no one else’s

you’re stuck with Reiko whether you liked it or not

#tangerine writes #tangerine answers #mortal kombat #mk #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #mk x you #mk x y/n #reiko #reiko mk1 #mk1 reiko #reiko x reader #reiko x you #reiko x y/n

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year

Text

Toji Fushiguro coming back to life to save (y/n) in Shibuya

Shibuya Arc scenarios that live in my head rent-free pt.ll

Pt. l with Gojo and Geto are here

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Notes: Literally no one asked for this, I had to do this for myself after the latest episode okay. Loots of grief, hurt and language. Enjoy

„Hey, it’s been a while“, you mumble to yourself, mindlessly dropping a bouquet of flowers onto the stone in front of you.

“You’re not coming back, are you?”

It’s been more than 10 years to be exact. Ten years of working as an assassin, ten years of roaming around without an aim.

Ten years since losing him.

Back then, you never admitted to anyone how you felt about him, how his sight alone made your body do crazy things and lightened up your cloudy mood. He was never a man that was easy to love, let alone very emotional. When it comes to women, Toji probably was the worst man walking on this earth.

But oh how much you loved him. How much you adored the little smile he wore on his face when he teased you, how much you longed for his arms that wrapped themselves around you when nobody was watching, how much you miss his hands roaming all over your body while he fucked you brainless each and every night, screaming out his name like a prayer.

Losing him was the most unbearable pain you’ve ever felt, an event that made you forget your belief in love forever. He was never yours, but losing him shattered your fucking heart. Since he’s gone, you never let another man touch you again, living from alcohol, cigarettes and assignments.

And this.

You visited Toji’s grave whenever you felt enough courage to do so without breaking down. Day after day, week after week, year after year. Always with the same empty feeling that occupies your mind, the what ifs that plague your tired heart whenever you think of him.

Beep beep beep.

Who the hell is calling you right now?

“I’m busy doing nothing”, you bark into your phone.

“(y/n), just wanted to let you know that something’s going on in Shibuya. Rumor has it that that Gojo boy was sealed.”

“Impossible”, you breathe out, almost dropping your phone.

Gojo Satoru, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, the fucker that killed Toji all these years ago, is gone? Your heart bangs against your chest, mind unable to comprehend the words. This is your chance. The chance to seek revenge, to kill everyone he cares for in one place without resistance.

Everyone expect him.

“I don’t know how this will go. My kid, Megumi. If something happens, keep an eye on him for me, will ya?”

You promised. Despite the fact that you pushed Toji’s past away as far as you could, you have to keep an eye on his son when Gojo isn’t around anymore.

“I thought so too, but seems like that’s a fact.”

“Do we know anything else? Some dirty details?”

“Not really, but someone pretty strong has to be there if that person was able to seal that fucker, don’t you think?”

“Yeah”, you mumble.

“I will take a look at this myself.”

Without waiting for a reply, you hang up and start walking.

This is your chance. After all this years of suffering, regretting, anger and agony, you’ll finally get your revenge. You will show them what the strongest jujutsu sorcerer did to you by taking your love away, by destroying your life so violently that there’s no more happiness left. You will give him a taste of his own medicine.

If Gojo Satoru ever sees the light of day again, all of his beloved ones will be dead. You will make sure of that.

-at Shibuya-

“Jujutsu sorcerers and their fucking curtains”, you mutter to yourself while effortlessly walking through the barrier.

How pathetic to think that curses and other jujutsu sorcerers are their only enemies. After all, Toji was almost able to defeat the strongest of them with nothing but his own rough hands.

Almost. How much you hated that word. He was almost able to defeat Gojo, he was almost able to survive that battle, he almost made it home to you.

But he never did. And that’s why you’re here, standing on top of a tall building while scanning the area around you. A few seconds later, loud bangs can be heard from a stress a few miles away. You spring into action immediately, gliding over the buildings with your harness so effortlessly that even a trained eye wouldn’t detect you. In their world, you are invisible, nothing more than a shadow without jujutsu.

And that’s their weakness.

You stop on a house corner, immediately caught by the sight of none other than Megumi Fushiguro in front of you along with another boy and an old fart. Your heart clenches painfully at the way his cold eyes stare at the old man, his facial features taking you back in time. Oh, he looks so much like his father.

So much that you want to go back home and swallow a bottle of vodka to get his face off your mind. But no, you’re on a mission, you have to make sure that kid is alright and kill all of his friends. You’ve got a job to do, get a hold of yourself.

With skilled eyes, you judge how he moves, how he acts, how he fights. Well, he might not be the best fighter you have seen yet, but he sure has some potential. Together with his little friend, he should be able to defeat that old fart. If not, you’ll come back later.

While you swore on keeping an eye open for him, you’re reluctant to meet Megumi and somehow don’t want him to find out that you’re after his friends and sensei. So you tear your gaze away from him, aiming for the skyscraper in front of you where another fight takes place. Whoever this is will be the first victim of your killing streak.

You will make every single one of these bastards pay for what Gojo did. You will make them feel the way you felt after his decease.

Over.

And over.

Again.

It isn’t hard for you to get up Shibuya tower in the matter of seconds, the harsh winds waving through your hair. Your heart pounds, eyes darting around the area.

Three people, two men are fighting while an old lady sits on the ground.

“And who of you belongs to that Gojo fucker?”, you mumble, gripping both of your katana’s tightly.

This is the moment. After Gojo is sealed, this is your opportunity to finally seek revenge, to kill every single one of them. When this fucker returns, he’ll be alone.

Just like you are since he killed Toji.

“What the hell are you doing here? Get lost”, the old woman hisses.

You stare at the broad back of the man who hits the other without mercy. Damn, that speed, that precision. It’s like back then. His fine technique almost makes him look like…

Toji.

Automatically, your feet carry you forward. You swing yourself in the air, feet ready to kick the broad man into his chest.

“Don’t you think this is a little unfair?”, you shout.

His eyes dart towards you.

He grabs your ankle.

All you can do is stare at him, mind going completely blank.

His face. This gorgeous face you adored so much. The little scar that emphasized the corner of his delicious mouth so well. His collarbone that creeps through the sweater he’s wearing. No, there’s no doubt. The man standing in front of you is Toji.

“Get out of the way, woman.”

Toji’s frame slams your body against the ground merciless. You see stars, lungs refusing their service as all you can do is stare in horror at the shell of the man you used to love, glimmer of hope nipped in the bud.

This isn’t his voice. This isn’t his smile.

This just isn’t Toji.

You hate the way your eyes start to water as he grabs your throat and yanks you upwards.

“You are not Toji. How dare you to use his body like that”, you cough out.

Instead of replying, he just smiles at you so heartlessly that you feel like throwing up. No, this simply can’t be Toji. This is the empty shell of the man you’ve lost. Feelings flood your heart uncontrollably. Anger, grief and most of all disappointment haunting and bringing you to your knees. God, how much you wished it was true. For the split of a second, you really thought this was him. Your Toji, the man you haven’t forgot after all these years, the only one you ever sacrificed your heart to.

But he’s gone. And he won’t come back.

“There needs to be a corpse for shapeshifting. Dumb girl, of course this isn’t Toji Zen’in. But you will die through his hands.”

Your body refuses to move. All you can do is watch as he throws the body of the other man down, off the tower, into certain death.

Fuck. Is this really how it ends?

“Y’know, you’re actually not that bad.”

“I hope so, jackass. Otherwise I’ll throw you out.”

“C’mon princess, don’t be like that. Y’know I’m obsessed with you.”

“Oh yeah? Might need to hear that again…”

“I’d rather show you.”

Like in slow-motion, his frame casually walks back and comes to a stand next to the old woman. Every limb of your body screams out in pain, lungs feeling like they’ll rip apart any minute. So this is the force of Toji Fushiguro.

It could be funny, actually. You always thought Toji is the strongest man on this earth, admired him for his sheer strength despite not being a jujutsu sorcerer. But when he was with you, his deadly touch became gentle, caressing you with what felt like…love.

Did he really love you? Who knows. But you did. Oh, how much you loved that man – the man whose back is now faced towards you, muscles tight by the thought of killing you with his bare hands.

Is there anything more ironic than getting killed by Toji Fushiguro?

“I would rather die through his hands than living like this until I’m as old and ugly as you.”

“Grandson.”

“I know, granny.”

He turns around. The shell of the man you thought about every night before drifting off to sleep, the man that is the only one you ever dedicated your heart to. That oh so rough face that felt so gentle against your fingertips. How much you’d give to talk to him one last time, to let him know how you really feel.

With a swift motion, he grabs your throat again, feet hanging in the air as you feel like life is slowly drifting away from you. Before your blurry vision threatens to eat you alive, he slams your already weak body into the floor, blood spurting in every direction.

Nothing but darkness and this foreign far away voice that speaks out of his body.

“That should be enough.”

Your fingers twitch. Is this the end? His footsteps echo through your brain.

“Granny, wh-wh-wh-wh-what do whe do now?”

“It won’t hurt to keep Satoru Gojo out of play. So go down below and kill sorcerers.”

…

“Grandson?”

“Who the hell do you think you’re ordering around, old hag? And how dare you to hurt ma princess?”

That voice…You must be hallucinating. It sounds just like him, just like you remember it. That deep unpromising vibration that made you go crazy more than once.

A shriek, a dull fall, silence. Footsteps that are approaching you again. Heavy, confident steps.

“I thought you can take more than that, princess.”

Hands grab your shoulders gently, lifting your bruised and weak body out of the dirt. You force yourself to open your heavy eyelids, mind still trying to process what is happening.

You stare right into his ocean blue eyes.

“Missed me?”

Your shaky breath rings in your ears, trembling hands searching for hold on his shoulders.

“Toji?”

Nothing more than a fade whisper in the night, a faint hope resonates.

“You’re still looking hot.”

Tears swell up your eyes before you can catch yourself while you wrap your aching arms around him for dear life. This has to be a dream, some cruel technique, a hallucination. But you don’t give a fuck. At the moment, all you can think about is how he wraps his large arms around your waist and back while holding the back of your head and the way he smells.

God, he smells just like you remember, just like the Toji you knew.

“Please tell me you’re back. Tell me this isn’t just a cruel dream. I don’t want to wake up anymore….”

“Live and in color. It’s been a while”, he comments.

Your eyes dart towards him and his sly grin. The grin you know all too well, the grin you adored more than anything else in the world.

“I missed you every single fucking day. And now…And now you’re standing in front of me. Alive”, you stammer.

“These fuckers thought they could use my powers against you. Ain’t no way I’d let this happen princess. Even if it means going to hell and back to be with you.”

Your fingers trace over his cheeks, his collarbones, his broad chest.

“It’s me, (y/n)”, he confirms your unspoken question.

“I missed you.”

“Yeah? Missed ya too. And can’t wait to show you how much. But work comes first and I still have a lot of shit to do.”

“I came here to take revenge, to kill all of Gojo’s little puppies for what he did to you”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“What a good girl you are, I always loved ya for that. Let’s get you out of here first. I’ll be back in a few hours, ‘kay?”

Toji…Loves you? Your hands dig into his firm biceps, eyes piercing right through him for any sign of sarcasm, any sign of manipulation.

But no, it’s clear. The man in front of you is indeed Toji Fushiguro. And he told you that he loves you.

He’s back and he loves you.

“I love you. Fuck, I love you so much! Living without you was hell”, you cry out, completely breaking down in tears while he holds you in his arms.

“I know princess, I know… Will catch up on everything, I promise. Let’s get you outta here. So sorry for hurting you like that.”

He picks you up in his arms while you allow yourself to close your eyes and lean your face against his chest. This might be a manipulation, a dream and nothing more. But you never thought you’d get him back. Fuck, after more than 10 years you’re really back in his arms.

Screw if this isn’t real. For this precious moment, you finally feel home again.

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luminouslywriting · 3 months

Note

hello, how are you feeling? Your Band of Brothers headcanons are amazing so I was wondering if you could do a headcanon of "how the guys would react if they were in a company-wide meeting and as soon as the reader walks in, they fall over", I feel like it would be a good idea Hahaha. Thank you very much for your attention on this request, I understand if you can't do it but I hope so.💕

Hey Nonny!! I'm doing much better today :) thank you for asking! How are you sweetheart? Sorry this has taken so long to get to! Hopefully you enjoy!

Cut for length, more under the cut, short paragraph form:

Dick Winters:

-This man is so embarrassed but he's doing his best to move on with the meeting and pretends like nothing happened. He really will just straight up have this moment haunt him though because he did NOT need to oust his crush on you that publicly to his men. An oomph moment for sure.

Lewis Nixon:

-Can easily play it off for kicks and giggles? He blames it on being tipsy and then just attempts to move on because he doesn't like people staring at him for too long, especially in his embarrassing moments. He also adds some light flirting into the conversation later.

Ronald Speirs:

-Literally doesn't fall over?? I'm sorry, but there's just no way that this man would do that unless he was intentionally tripped (and then someone is surely getting murdered haha).

Buck Compton:

-Slightly embarrassed but has his friends dust him off and plays it off with a joke about something more embarrassing from his college days. It unfortunately lives rent-free in his head though and now he's realizing that you saw that and you'll likely remember it forever. Oof for sure.

Carwood Lipton:

-Quickly gets back up and doesn't make a big deal about it. But on the inside? Oh this man is suppressing a major blush and is just trying to focus on the meeting at hand. If anyone ever brings it up to him in the future, he has a face of exasperation and has likely heard all of the jokes about it already.

Joe Liebgott:

-No one is surprised??? Like that man fell over so quickly when you walked in and they were all just *smh fr*. But he just tries to catch your attention and catch your eye during the meeting so he can figure out what you thought of the entire thing/if you'll ever give him a chance lol. The answer is yes, but he should just ask you himself.

Donald Malarkey:

-Gets teased relentlessly by his friends but he's lowkey too lovesick to care?? He's also just silently hoping that you didn't see him completely fall over because that was an accident and he was just leaning a little too far as he tried to watch you walk in. That's his bad, but hopefully you missed that.

Eugene Roe:

-Not a single person says anything. Not a single person even acts like they saw it. This man's embarrassing moment lives in only his own brain because not a single person thought it was because of you. And that's their medic who they respect the hell out of. He's slightly mortified and grumbling, but he'll get over it.

Bill Guarnere:

-Gets teased lightly by some close friends but he's out here with a death glare for anyone that tries to bring it up in general. He was also embarrassed and quickly got up. He shut up and paid attention during the meeting....but he also snuck looks over at you to make sure that you didn't see it haha.

Joe Toye:

-Not a single person dares to tease this man about it. He's ready to throw hands and bring up their embarrassing moments if they try. But there are a few people that might mention your name and your reaction to get a light level of blush on this man's face. Oops?

George Luz:

-Immediately shaded by everyone he's ever joked about. Immediately makes a joke to make everyone laugh and keep the situation light-hearted. And if you laugh at the joke? His fall was well worth it to see your smile or laugh haha.

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wittlesissyb4by · 5 months

Text

Chapter 2

Chapter 1 Here

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go.” Mr. Pennyworth says.

It feels like a dagger has been shoved into my stomach. I’m not sure what to say, so he just continues anyway.

“Your productivity is by far the lowest in the company, you’re not reliable to show up on time or even at all, and your long hair is unprofessional and not befitting of this company’s standards.” He clears his throat, sifting through some papers. “We also have reason to believe you called-in on Friday without actually being sick.”

“What makes you think that?” I say, finally speaking up for the first time.

He shrugs, “Let’s just say we got an anonymous tip.”

******

“Everything alright with you?” Max asks, moving his pawn forward to free up his bishop.

“I’m fine,” I say, half-heartedly moving my knight with no clear plan in place. “Lost my job today.”

Max frowns, moving his bishop out as I expected. “I’m really sorry, dude. That sucks to hear.”

“Yea…it’s fine, I guess,” I sigh, “Didn’t much like it there much anyway.”

He still hasn’t said anything about the other day. I’m not sure if he actually saw anything, or he did and just doesn’t want to bring it up. How do you talk about seeing a bunch of sissy toys and diapers in your roommate’s room? Is that even something to talk about?

I remember back in college when my roommate at the time had found a slew of sissy porn on my computer. I was there when he saw everything. That sick feeling in my stomach took forever to go away. It’s back now.

“Well if you start applying for jobs, you can always use me as a reference. Just say I’m an old manager or something.” He says, putting his Queen in a precarious position. I seize the opportunity and take it. I realize too late that it left my King open for an easy assault. An obvious trap I should have seen coming.

“Checkmate.” Max says, smiling.

******

As the weeks went by, so did the job opportunities and applications. I rarely received any callbacks, and even if I got an interview, I’d either get ghosted afterwards or they would call and say something to the degree of “after careful consideration, we’ve decided to go with another candidate.”

God, the job market is rough.

My bank account is dangerously low. I probably should have done a better job of saving for times like this, but I guess I was more excited about buying outfits and diapers. Still, I’m not going to make it through the next month without some sort of income. It’s time to have the awkward conversation with Max.

“Hey, man. Can I talk to you for a sec?” I say, shuffling my feet into the living room.

He pauses the hockey game and turns to me, “what’s up?”

It’s such a weird topic to bring up, but I have to bite the proverbial bullet. “I’m having trouble finding a job…” I say sheepishly, “I didn’t work long enough at my last one to get severance, so…I’m a little low on funds.”

He just sits there, always with that stoic expression, listening intently. He doesn’t say anything, just lets me continue.

“So…umm..I’m uh, gonna be short on rent this month.”

Again he continues to stare at me, as if deep in thought, stroking his beard. It almost seems a little exaggerated. Like he’s acting.

“I see,” he finally says. “So you need me to help you?”

As demoralizing as it is to admit, I have to. “Yes…”

He smiles. “Okay. No problem.”

“Really?”

“Yea.”

I don’t know what to say. A weight of anxiety and fear is lifted off my shoulders. I can feel it melt away as I start to relax. “Thanks man, I really do appreciate it. I’ll find a way to make it up to you, I promise. Anything you need, just let me know.”

His eyes have a strange glint to them. Like he was hoping I would say exactly that.

“I actually do have a job in mind for you,” He says, “You can start today.”

I sense a sudden shift in the air around the room. He leans back on the couch a bit, patting the seat next to him. I find myself sitting down beside him, not exactly sure what’s going on, but sensing something amiss.

Max puts his hand on my leg, “it’s okay, nothing to worry about.” he says softly. I feel myself release a breath, feeling comforted, but still a little uneasy.

It’s like he’s holding something back. Like he’s trying to find the words but doesn’t know how to say it. I wonder if he knows. If he saw the things in my room.

“I saw the things in your room.” He says.

Yea, I’d say he knows…

My stomach does that familiar churning. The shame of what I've done, or been caught doing coursing through me. “I-i can explain…”

“Don’t bother.” He says, waving it away. “I’ve always had my suspicions.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I’ve always tried to be so reserved and secretive with my true desires. I didn’t think anyone else would notice.

He shifts on the couch again. When he does, something catches my eye, there’s a very large bulge in his shorts.

Noticing me looking at the log snaking down his leg, he starts running his hand over it and smiling. “Have you ever sucked a cock before?”

I realize my mouth is hanging open. I gulp, shaking my head. “Not a real one.”

He laughs at that, it breaks some of the tension, then he shrugs. “Well, there’s a first time for everything…” he gently pulls at his zipper, snaking it down ever so slowly. But he doesn’t pull it out, just leaves it open, letting my imagination run wild. “Do you want to suck it?” He asks.

Again I find myself dumbfounded, this is all happening so fast, but before I can think about it I find the word escaping my lips.

“Yes.”

He chuckles. “Good, because you were going to have to do it anyway. This place ain’t cheap.”

After our awkward laughter dies down, I’m left in the precarious position of what to do next. Luckily, he guides me after several seconds of silence.

“Open my pants.”

I reach a shaky hand to his button, it takes me a bit to get my fumbling fingers to work it free.

Again, I’m lost as to what to do next. Should we kiss? Do I close my eyes? What do I—

“Take it out.”

His direction helps. It’s easier for me to follow orders than it is to take initiative in such uncharted territory. I reach my hand into the waistband of his boxers, feeling around for it, my heart beating out of my chest. It doesn’t take me long at all to find the warm, fleshy member. I gently pull it back, it bends a bit before snapping out of the boxers to stare straight up at me.

It’s big. Very big. I can barely wrap my fingers around it. The veins are popping out the side, and I can even feel his own heart beating through it. Pulsing. Rapidly. He’s just as nervous as I am but he doesn’t show it.

“Well...it’s not gonna suck itself…”

I realize I’ve been staring at it for a while. I use my other hand to wipe the drool from my mouth. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Somehow my throat feels both dry and wet at the same time, it doesn’t even make sense. Finally, I push past the nervous excitement, and lean forward. His cock seems to grow as it gets closer to my face. I’ve imagined this moment over and over for years. I’ve watched countless videos through the lens of girls wearing a GoPro on their head taking big, giant dicks into their mouths. But somehow this is different. I’m the girl now. It’s my POV, and it’s what I've always dreamed of.

I open my mouth when I’m inches away and close my eyes, imagining I'm one of the girls in those videos.

The head of his dick already feels different than my dildos. It’s squishier, warmer, and tastes just a little bit salty, but in a good way. In a great way. This is what I've always wanted, and I’ve finally gotten it.

I hear a soft moan escape my lips just before they close around his cock. It sounds pathetic, but I don’t care. Things finally feel…right. Like this is what was supposed to be in my mouth all along. All those things they told me in sissy porn were true.

I take him deeper in my mouth. I find it easier to slide it down my throat than my dildo. I take it as far as I can until my eyes water, then go back up for a breath.

In the overwhelming rush of stimuli, I forgot all the techniques I’ve practiced for so long. I try to remember: swirl your tongue, suction on the way up, not down, and most importantly: keep it nice and wet.

I let the drool run from my mouth, using my hand to coat his cock with it, taking a breath before diving back down.

“Someone’s been practicing.” He breathes.

I melt at his praise. I always wanted to be a cocksucker, and I always hoped I’d be a good cocksucker. But you never really know, my dildo doesn’t make noises.

But him? He was breathing heavily, moaning, groaning, and doing all the things that told me I was doing something right. It ignited a fire in me. With every grunt he made I found myself getting more and more enthusiastic so as to make it happen again.

Leaning over across the couch next to him is a bit awkward, though.

He notices. “Get on your knees.”

I take him out of my mouth and scramble a little too eagerly onto the floor between his legs.

He looks down at me, almost victoriously, like his plan has come to fruition. I am in no way perturbed. In fact, my cock is screaming inside my pants. I don’t think I've ever been this hard in my life.

“Looks like you’re enjoying yourself.” He says, apparently noticing my penis poking prominently through my pants. “You can touch it.”

Is that his decision? I guess so…because as soon as he says it I find my hand going inside my pants.

“No no.” He says. “On the outside. Rub it like you’re a girl. A sissy girl.”

Just the sound of that word gives me a wave of pleasure. I’m so hot and bothered that my body is quaking. I love the way he’s dominating me. Taking my power away so I don’t have to make the decisions myself, and therefore making me more relaxed about doing something I may otherwise have chickened-out on. Would I be here, on my knees, about to suck his cock if he hadn’t made me? Is he making me? Or am I doing it on my own volition?

I knead the front of my crotch. Feeling my throbbing cock and nestling my aching balls. I feel a bit weird with him watching me, so I turn my attention back to his cock. Well, more specifically, his balls. I’ve learned that when worshipping a man—as I’m doing right now—maintaining eye contact while lapping at his balls is one of the perfect ways to show your submission. I also know (from being on the receiving end) that having your balls sucked does not feel nearly as good as porn makes it seem, it’s actually kind of painful.

So after licking his sack and stroking for several seconds, I spit on his dick and take it back into my mouth with renewed vigor. My own balls are aching at this point, I can feel them turning blue. I use two fingers and twirl them in circles over my pants while I bob up and down on Max’s dick.

“Fuck yea…” he moans. God it feels so good to make him make those noises. “I’m gonna cum.”

So am I.

Knowing he’s on the verge gets me insatiably hot. I want nothing more than to get him to bust in my mouth, like some sort of primal need.

I hear myself moaning again. I’m not sure if it’s from the pleasure I'm giving or receiving.

“You want it in your mouth?” He asks considerately.

“Mhmm!!” I swoon hungrily around his dick. My hand gyrates over my own. The thought of making a man cum in my mouth is too much to handle. I feel a warmth fill my pants as I shake and convulse, trying to keep my focus on his dick while I spasm in an intense orgasm.

I feel the desire begin to fade. The reality of what I'm doing seeping in. This is my roommate, and I’m on my knees in our living room slobbering all over his big dick like a girl he just met on Tinder.

“Ohh yea…” he twitches. I can feel the head of his penis swelling, even more than it was before. It gets me excited again. Eager. Desperate. “Right there, just like that! I’m almost there…”

I’ve never been on the receiving end of that statement. Guys saying they’re almost there but are actually a few minutes out.

My cheeks are starting to burn, my throat is getting sore, it burns from the bile of gagging, I need air, to take a break and a breath, but I don’t want to lose my progress. I need to power through and do what I need to do.

He grips the cushion of the couch. His legs flail and tense. The head of his cock is bigger than ever. His breathing becomes labored, syncopated, and then it stops.

That’s when I felt the first gush hit my tongue. Even though I was expecting it, I wasn’t exactly ready for it. Another pump, and then another. I worry I won’t be able to hold it all.

He gives a big exhale, and that’s when I know he’s spent. I hold his dick and his cum in my mouth a bit, not exactly sure what to do next. I suck a bit more to pull out any remaining drops, then take him out of my mouth.

The jizz is warmer than I expected it to be, saltier too, but it doesn’t taste bad. It’s my reward. A token of my accomplishment. I just sucked my first real dick, and it was everything I hoped it would be.

I gulp down the load, smiling gratefully like any good little slut would.

“Good job.” He says, patting me on the head like I’m a well-behaved puppy. “Now run along…”

That’s it. He doesn’t say anything else. Just pulls up his pants, zips them back up, grabs the remote, and resumes the Hockey game.

A little disheveled, I wipe the slobber from my mouth, get up, and head out of the room like a discarded toy. What did I expect to happen? For us to cuddle and whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ear? I don’t even think I would want that. But to be thrown away like that makes me feel…used.

Then I remember the wet, sticky stain in my pants. A reminder that I enjoyed myself, a lot.

So I guess it’s no surprise that when I got back to my room, I shut the door, locked it, and started enjoying myself two more times…

To Be Continued

~~Click HERE to go see Chapter 3!~~

#roomies #WSB Story #WSB Stories

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atom-writings · 7 months

Note

hello! how would netherlands, luxembourg and russia like to spend their honeymoon with their s/o? or, what would the wedding look like?

hetalia netherlands, luxembourg, and russia wedding / honeymoon headcanons

0.6k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: none!

a/n: guys im trying to get back on schedule :sob: i have asks from almost a year im so sorry

Netherlands

When it comes to Abel, neither his wedding nor honeymoon would be big.

For the wedding, there’s no more than, like, 5 people invited. He would’ve preferred a sudden in-and-out wedding if it weren’t for how public it was, regardless of how un-romantic it is for you.

Instead, you can invite people if you want, and you’ll be having a quick, private ceremony in the woods. Probably only with nothing, except like, 2 chairs for “an emergency” (He won’t elaborate on that.)

He also wouldn’t dress up either way, unless it were vitally important to you. He wants to be as true to who he is when he vows to be with you for as long as you live, and he is not a tuxedo guy.

Weirdly enough, it’s how much he cares about the wedding that makes him so weird about it. It’s very important to him, and that means everything has to be as authentic and intimate as possible. So, that means a weird awkward wedding.

Of course, that’s just if he gets his way. But he’s surprisingly lenient with his S/O with most things (as long as it’s not too expensive.)

For future reference, he is most susceptible to puppy dog eyes and “pretty please.”

As for the honeymoon, there’s no way he’s putting any effort into it. You can plan it, but he’s not paying and he’s not helping you guys get there. His ideal honeymoon is a night in and watching a movie he pirated, but whatever you want is fine too.

What he wants to do though is a lot of cliche boring stuff, like going sightseeing, hiking, and visiting museums. Notice how all of it is free? That’s the main idea here. Although, he does love camping regardless of how cheap it ends up being. Lets him show you how much of a man he is <3

He’s not travelling though. Leaving the country is out of the question. The important part already happened, why are you making such a big deal out of it?!

Luxembourg

The exact opposite. Laurent is renting out a significant chunk of his capital city to throw the biggest, most extravagant, most expensive modern wedding in the world! He may be a busy man, but he’s always willing to put away plenty of time for his beloved.

If you like planning events, you two will work together for many months making sure everything is perfect. But if you don’t, he’ll take it all on himself to ensure everything goes perfectly.

But with that, he’ll become really stressed. He wouldn’t snap at you (because after all, it is all for you,) but he’s no fun when he’s that worked up. It’s better if you help.

Especially since he wants your wedding to have great symbolic meaning. Having it represent the shared vision of your future together is his first- well… second priority.

The honeymoon afterwards would be much the same, although he also wouldn’t want to travel too far. Once the spectacle is over, he just appreciates the excuse to do nothing but spend time with you without any pressure.

Preferably trying a bunch of new food, going shopping, and going to stereotypical couple-y activities, like dance classes.

He may seem upbeat, but Laurent is surprisingly melancholic around the time of your wedding. For as excited as he is (which is very,) he can’t help but feel worried about how much time he’ll have with you.

But it shouldn’t get him down too much. He's still riding the high of seeing you in your wedding attire <3

Russia

Ivan would want a very, very, very traditional Russian wedding if you’d be fine with that. Unlike a lot of other nations, he’s never been married before, so he’s very stressed about getting to do every single thing he never got to before.

You’d swear he abandoned you for months before the wedding as he’s panickedly running around the country trying desperately to throw everything together. Half the ceremonies he wants to do haven’t been done for centuries, and he really doesn’t understand why he can’t have live cannon fire at his wedding!

Maybe just pat him on the head and tell him you’ll love him even if you can’t sacrifice 20 goats during the ceremony.

But once the stress (and awkwardness as all of his former friends are forced to attend,) is over, he’s whisking you away for a months-long vacation. Preferably somewhere bright and warm but really; he doesn’t care where you want to go, anywhere is alright, as long as it’s far away from everything you two have to worry about regularly.

His favourite things to do with you while on vacation are really stereotypical, like going to the beach, going to scenic locations, and falling into every tourist trap.

He tries to be as romantic as possible through all of that, but he can’t help being awkward and giddy after you two are finally married.

#heta tag #hetalia imagines #hetalia x reader #ivan tag <3 #aph russia x reader #hws russia x reader #abel tag #hws netherlands x reader #aph netherlands x reader #laurent tag #aph luxembourg x reader #hws luxembourg x reader #not proofread at all

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can-of-w0rmz · 1 year

Text

Volume III Chapter IV/V of the original 1818 text of Frankenstein lives in my brain rent free. I need to rant about Clerval’s death or I’ll loose it. (It’s late and I’m exhausted rn so my ass is NOT as coherent and structured as it could be but fuck it we ball)

“He appeared to be a handsome young man, about five and twenty years of age.” MY PRECIOUS BOY

“(…) having brought the body into her house; it was not cold. They put it into a bed, and rubbed it; and Daniel went to the town for an apothecary, but life was quite gone.” HE MIGHTN’T HAVE BEEN DEAD WHEN THEY FOUND HIM BUT IT WAS TOO LATE

“I saw the lifeless form of Henry Clerval stretched before me. I gasped for breath; and, throwing myself on the body, I exclaimed, “Have my murderous machinations deprived you also, my dearest Henry, of life? Two I have already destroyed; other victims await their destiny: but you, Clerval, my friend, my benefactor”——

The human frame could no longer support the agonizing suffering that I endured, and I was carried out of the room in strong convulsions.

A fever succeeded to this. I lay for two months on the point of death (…)” THE WAY VICTOR REACTS TO AND SPIRALS FROM CLERVAL’S DEATH IS SO MUCH MORE SEVERE THAN ANYTHING ELSE THAT HAPPENS TO HIM and it’s also an extremely interesting character study to see what happens when the only person he ever really seemed to have a mutual loving and healthy relationship with gets cut out of the picture – Victor’s had his fevers, he’s wallowed, but he always had Clerval to draw him from his wallowing and to nurse him back to health. So what happens when Clerval’s death is the cause of that anguish? THE DRAMA THE ANGST I love these silly little gothic losers to death but watching Frankenstein grieve over the passing of who was pretty much essentially his lover is fascinating to me and it SHOWS how much Frankenstein adores Clerval through the latter’s death. THE MAGNITUDE OF HIS GRIEF IS A TESTAMENT TO THEIR LOVE oml i can’t rn frfr THEYRE SO GAY AND SO GOTHIC I CAN NOT

“Why did I not die? More miserable than man ever was before, why did I not sink into forgetfulness and rest?” “I thank you; but all that you mention is nothing to me: on the whole earth there is no comfort which I am capable of receiving.” “(…)surely I should have died on the coffin of Henry.” AGAIN Victor’s absolute grief tearing himself up over it

“As my sickness quitted me, I was absorbed by a gloomy and black melancholy, that nothing could dissipate. The image of Clerval was for ever before me, ghastly and murdered.” “Sometimes they were the expressive eyes of Henry, languishing in death, the dark orbs nearly covered by the lids, and the long black lashes that fringed them.” Again what I said about his grief being a testament to their love bro, REMINISCING ABOUT HIS DEAD LOVER AND HIS BEAUTY EVEN IN DEATH WHILE GRIEVING HIM I CANT BRO

“Ah! my father, do not remain in this wretched country; take me where I may forget myself, my existence, and all the world.” HERE’S THE START OF HIM PUSHING AWAY THE MEMORY AND TRYING TO SUPPRESS IT BECAUSE THE GRIEF IS TOO SEVERE and that is SO interesting for how he shifts his tone with Elizabeth and puts up that fake demeanour of wanting to marry her because he thinks it’ll make HER happy even though both of them describe dreading the wedding, also possibly another argument for the legitimacy of reading Clerval and Frankenstein’s relationship as romantic – in order to forget him, he assigns himself to the role given to him as a child by marrying Elizabeth and gives up whatever he hope he had (possibly discouraged from Clerval being murdered as a response to Victor refusing to finish the Bride and subject her to the same fate as him and Elizabeth to the Creature, a pact made without her knowledge or consent, an arranged marriage. Where has spiting that tradition led him? Where has him standing up to the shroud of his mother’s dying wishes, hanging over him the entire novel thus far, led him, by refusing to force the Bride into an arranged marriage with the Creature, as he was with Elizabeth? To the death of the one man he truly loved. So fuck it, right? He can at least “make his dear cousin happy” and not die spiting the one thing he was meant to do – make his mother proud from beyond the grave by marrying Elizabeth.)

“the wind that blew me from the detested shore of Ireland(…)” sorry my country traumatised you bro (I mentioned to one of my teachers while explaining the plot of Frankenstein to them, as you do, that this chapter takes place in Ireland and the “god damn ok” face was priceless)

“I was deceived by no vision, and that Clerval, my friend and dearest companion, had fallen a victim to me and the monster of my creation. I repassed, in my memory, my whole life; my quiet happiness while residing with my family in Geneva, the death of my mother, and my departure for Ingolstadt. I remembered shuddering at the mad enthusiasm that hurried me on to the creation of my hideous enemy, and I called to mind the night during which he first lived. I was unable to pursue the train of thought; a thousand feelings pressed upon me, and I wept bitterly.” HE’S TRYING SO DESPERATELY TO LEAVE IT BEHIND AND TO REPRESS IT but now he’s left Ireland and he’s no longer feverish, the clarity washes over him and he can’t do anything except just lie there and cry over everything that’s happened AND MY POOR LAD HE CANT EVEN CONTINUE BEYOND THE POINT OF THE CREATURES REANIMATION BECAUSE THOSE FEELINGS PRESS DOWN ON HIM AND CROWD HIM AND OVERWHELM HIM AND HE JUST BREAKS INTO SOBS

And what happens after “the night during which he first lived”?

He’s saved from his own downward spiral by Clerval.

What’s he doing now?

Going on a downward spiral.

Where’s Clerval?

Dead.

“Ever since my recovery from the fever I had been in the custom of taking every night a small quantity of laudanum; for it was by means of this drug only that I was enabled to gain the rest necessary for the preservation of life. Oppressed by the recollection of my various misfortunes, I now took a double dose, and soon slept profoundly. But sleep did not afford me respite from thought and misery; my dreams presented a thousand objects that scared me.” And Christ above THIS LINE, not only can he now physically not sleep at night after what happened, but he’s gotten into the habit of drug use over it – which wouldn’t have been too bizarre by Victorian standards, but in the 18th century, laudanum wasn’t administered nearly as liberally and was mostly used for surgery, from what I can find, anyway. Not to mention that fact that he starts double dosing on it as the memories come back to him – his grief starts getting to the point where he’s using drug use in order to cope, but it hardly matters as his torment follows him to sleep.

“We had resolved not to go to London, but to cross the country to Portsmouth, and thence to embark for Havre. I preferred this plan principally because I dreaded to see again those places in which I had enjoyed a few moments of tranquillity with my beloved Clerval. I thought with horror of seeing again those persons whom we had been accustomed to visit together, and who might make inquiries concerning an event, the very remembrance of which made me again feel the pang I endured when I gazed on his lifeless form in the inn at ——.” THIS LINE LIVES IN MY BRAIN. RENT FREE. HOW COULD SHELLEY HAVE CUT THIS OUT OF THE 1831 PUBLICATION THIS IS SO GOLDEN DEAR LORD I ADORE THEM.

“MY BELOVED CLERVAL”

BUT ALSO AGAIN we’ve got Frankenstein trying SO desperately to forget everything, and he knows that he can’t face the people who knew Clerval or he’d break down. And I love the way this version continues on his grief to the next chapter – it’s not done and dropped, its ongoing and it plagues him, and it will plague him as long as he lives. I wonder what would happen if he did go through London, if he did meet those people again. Would things have turned out differently? Would he finally have been given a sense of comfort and clarity through mutual grief, as nobody so far since Henry’s death and for the rest of the book, except the creature, ironically, has grieved for Clerval except for Frankenstein. If he met people who took as fondly to Clerval as he did, at least on meeting him briefly, who would have sympathy towards Victor – would he finally have that space to grieve for him in a healthy way, to be comforted by people who at least vaguely understand a fraction of his anguish?

The way Victor Frankenstein BREAKS after the death of Henry Clerval is one of the most fascinating and endearing parts of the novel that completely lives in my head rent free. He spirals, he becomes ill, he becomes deeply suicidal and depressed, he begins drug misuse – and adaptations have the sheer balls to cut Clerval out of the story altogether.

…..”My beloved Clerval” HELP ME HE ACTUALLY SAID IT I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

#gothic lit #classic literature #gothic literature #frankenstein #goth lit #classic lit #frankenstein weekly #clervalstein #Victor Frankenstein #Henry Clerval #frankenstein or the modern prometheus #frankenstein 1818

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angelicsjn · 1 year

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What are the guys ideal first dates?

YOUR FIVE YANDERES

— ROMAN CORNELIUS JAMES BEAUREGARD.

Roman is a man of taste, fine taste at that!

In a general and sweet relationship, the ideal relationship he will take you around the world as he races, kissing you in front of the crowds and cameras after he wins and then taking you out on the night life.

Monaco nights on yachts drinking champagne, Paris nights in pretty restaurants, Italy walks while eating ice cream and holdings hands, ignoring the cameras.

Roman would take you to events, fashion, and sporting events. Taking you to golf when he gets offered to play for charity. His dates usually revolve around his work. He's so busy and rarely finds free time, so he makes sure to include you in as much as he can.

During the winter breaks, you go skiing and snowboarding with him, living in expensive cabins for a few weeks. Away from the world where you both can be yourselves.

In the Summer, you experience all the great things the hotter countries have to offer. Visiting all the historical places in Greece, going on hikes and falling asleep during mindnumbing professional massages.

He lives expensively, and he wants to share all these moments with you.

As for the first date? A fancy meal made by a private chef on one of his yachts in Monaco. Candles, sunsets, nice music, perfect meal. He even knew your favourite meal, how sweet.

— LATEN REED.

Laten is a lot more lowkey than our Formula 1 star. He's a university student who spends most of his time in the gym, training and playing rugby, so when he gets a break from studying and rugby, he takes advantage of it.

He loves simple dates: cinema, arcade, fast food restaurants, walks around the town, and the nature reserves nearby.

For his ego, he likes gym dates. You don't even have to join in, give him compliments and boost his confidence.

His most favourite type of dates is ordered food, shitty movies while in bed with you. Facemasks, he lets you do his nails and eyebrows too, likes to relax and gives you small kisses as you pamper each other. Cuddles with you and traces his fingers across your back as you sleep and he feels so happy you feel comfortable enough to sleep by him. <3

Laten is a gigantic sweetheart and loves nothing more than to spend time with you. Anywhere is a good date for him. Even if it's at McDonald's, if it's with you, he likes it.

As for the first date? You watch him at one of his matches. Instead of him celebrating with his team, he whisks you away to his favourite restaurant, its small and tucked away in the town, a hidden gem. He pays for everything, you dance to the music together and he walks you home, both giggly from the drinks.

— JAE 'NIKO' LEE.

Due to being a famous idol, he has to be discreet. Wearing masks, caps, and oversized hoodies. To you, he's Jae. To the world, he's Niko, and he doesn't want to mix those two identities.

Jae likes late night dates. Late night drives around the city, stopping at drive thrus, eating food as he drives, and then watching the sky from the hills where it's quiet.

Karaoke dates where he rents the room out for as long as he can so you both can privately spend time together, dancing, eating, singing and enjoying your time together.

In the summer, you drive out as far as possible, in nature with a picnic where it's sunny and bright and without risk of being caught. He takes advantage of the countryside during the summer, knowing it'll be only you both where he doesn't have to be anyone but himself.

When he gets days off, he stays in bed, forcing you to stay in bed with him as long as possible, cuddling you and pressing kisses against your shoulders. Following you around the place like a lost puppy because if he's got a day off, he will be glued by your side. No matter what.

As for the first date? He picks you up and takes you out to a private restaurant where he buys a separate room to have your privacy. He then drives around with you, doing some sightseeing since he's rarely able to go out at all unless with security.

— KAIDAN ALEXANDER WOLFE.

He's a showoff, anywhere the cameras will be. Influencer interviews on the sidewalks where he holds your hand extra tight. Even if you're shy, he'll show you off, "Yeah, we're on a date." Kaidan is nonchalant about it, but he shows you off as much as he can.

Photobooth pictures he posts on his story, clubs and bars where he holds onto your waist and uses the crowds as an excuse to hold onto you, Italian restaurants where he kisses your knuckles gently, sharing kisses that taste of wine.

Kaidan takes you to his events, dressing you up, matching you with his fit, and making sure the headlines will state how you're the best-looking couple.

Takes you to big family dinners, holding your hand under the table and showing off any and all of your accomplishments. Slow dancing with you as his family secretly plan your wedding, because they've never seen Kaidan so in love before.

As for the first date? He takes you out to an event, something he knew you'd like. Even though it's the first date, and you weren't officially dating, he allows photos to be spread around with the title: 'Kaidan Wolfe's New Relationship?' Hard to say no to him when the world said yes.

— HAYDEN WEST.

The sweetest of them all, in my opinion.

He makes lists based on what you like. All his dates are things he knew you'd like.

Do you like art? He knows a few great museums. Books? There's this amazing bookstore nearby. He's been there before and loved it. Walks in nature? He loves nature, too. He can take photos while out! Clubs and bars? Not his thing, but if you like it, so does he!

He does everything in your favour, sort of let's you decide.

But if he had full control, he'd pick simple bookstore dates and cafe dates, especially cat cafes. Museums, historical and artistic, anywhere you could possibly both learn something. He's a nerd at heart and definitely pulls you out to see all the new Marvel and DC movies.

As for the first date? Definitely a picnic by the local river, he buys non-alcoholic wine, all your favourite foods and snacks, he knows them all. Even if you never actually told him that..

#darling reader #darlingcore #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oc x you #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you

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drchenquill · 1 month

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Character profile tag!

Thank you for the tag @the-golden-comet , @sableglass , @finickyfelix and @paeliae-occasionally ! I'm sorry it took me so long, I just couldn't decide who to take for this game. I'll just go with my baby boy Leon.

Name: Leon Martens

Nickname: "Waschlappen" by his late grandma. (It's German and it means sissy, wimp and so on.) It's an insult, but she used it as nickname, often refering to him like that while talking to other people, making it sound like a cute "family inside joke".

Kind of being: Human

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Appearance: fluffy honey-blonde hair with dark drown eyes. Very pale, almost sickly looking skin. He mostly wears cardigans to feel comfortable. His calloused hands look frail like everything on him to be honest. He is rather thin and weak looking. He is a frail man.

Occupation: Art teacher

Family members: None (all deceased. It wasn't a big family)

Pets: None

Best friends: he would say none, but Kiki has taken that spot very fast.

Describe his/her room: So, a bit of context. He moved into a shabby apartment but mid story was forced to move again into a not-as-shabby apartment. I'll describe his old room because his current room isn't his, it's Kilians.

Quoting him: "My bedroom has a large window that looks out onto the street. Normally I would draw the curtains, which didn't happen this time. That's why I can see the first shy rays of sunlight creeping into the day. The apartment I'm currently renting consists of five rooms. The bedroom with a double bed that takes up far too much space, thanks in part to the wardrobe that will collapse on me with just a small earthquake and free me, a bathroom that barely has room for a bathtub, a living room furnished with a beige couch that I doubt was the original color, a small TV that I'm afraid to turn on and, last but not least, the small kitchen where I recently tried to make a coffee with shaky hands and the flame of the stove almost burned my face."

Way of speaking: Polite, tries to never raise his voice.

Physical characteristics (posture, gestures, attitude): He avoids eye contact and often walks with his head down. When he's stressed, his right hand tends to cramp, so you may see him subtly massaging it. He also tends to have twitching hands when he feels the need to draw something to calm down. He is developing a hunchback by always walking with a hunched posture to subconsciously make himself smaller.

Items in his/her back pocket/ purse: A small pocketsized sketchbook with a tiny pencil (he draws to calm himself down.) And his phone and wallet.

Hobbies: Drawing.

Favorite sports: None.

Abilities/Talents/Powers: Drawing

Relationships (how he/she is with other people): He tries not to interact with other people, but when he does, he tends to not hold eye contact for too long. He is rather submissive, not wanting to anger anyone.

Fears: Being looked at, making mistakes, angering other people, people thinking he is insane.

Fault: He is very paranoid and does not trust at all. He always thinks the worst and often doesn't give the other person a chance to explain. He can be very petty.

Good points: He is very gentle with children. He loves children because he feels safe around them.

What he/she wants more than anything else: To be left alone and to get rid of the crushing guilt he feels after surviving the car accident that killed his parents.

~~~

Tagging with no pressure @theink-stainedfolk , @inseasofgreen , @katenewmanwrites , @kaeru483 , @happypup-kitcat24 and open tag~

#writing tag game #tag game #tag games #writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #writers #writerscommunity #wip

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stargirlfics · 2 years

Text

The Gentleman

Alfred Pennyworth x Black Dancer!Reader

Series Summary: Two chance encounters turn into something quite unexpected the longer you spend around a certain Englishman

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, set after the events of The Batman film, age gap - reader is mid/late 20’s or 30’s (up to your preference), mentions of stalking/being followed, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn kinda vibe this chapter

Word Count: 6.2k

Note: The first chapter is finally here! Andy Serkis as Alfred lives rent free in my head tbh and this idea has been too, I’m having so much fun writing it and I hope you enjoy it also!

[series masterlist] [series playlist]

Gotham’s misty autumn air felt cool against your cheeks, your heels clicking against the pavement as you set a brisk pace, the city beginning to wake, morning sun just barely cutting through the cloudy skies.

Fatigue crowded at the edges of your eyes, it had been a long night and you looked forward to a warm shower and your bed, hoping to finally rest.

Rehearsals began later today for you and some of the other girls at the Iceberg Lounge and you knew your window to get some proper rest was entirely too narrow but you’d just have to manage.

You’d have been home hours ago if you had just kept your mouth shut.

He didn’t like when the girls got smart with him but his sleazy ego was far too big and you had scoffed at his comments about how this city was gonna be his one day soon, earning you the honor of doing all the club’s closing duties and bar clean up for the night.

It had been amusing in the moment but you knew it was more than true that Oz had his fingers in many a shady pocket, a chill running through your chest at the thought of him having any kind of control over the city.

His reputation as a gangster was no secret.

Especially in the near year it had been since all those chilling riddles, the murders, since the unraveling of lies about the elite in Gotham and that terrible flood. The element had shifted, had given an opportunity for men like Cobblepot to step into the spotlight.

But despite that, life was just starting to have some semblance of stability again.

The temporary repairs made to the sea wall were undergoing construction for something more permanent, the last few neighborhoods that had been underwater were salvaged and being rebuilt, the displaced finally starting to find their footing again.

Not everything was whole again but things were certainly on the mend.

You pulled your coat tighter around yourself, debating on whether it was worth it to wait the extra ten minutes for your favorite café to open or just head straight for the subway home, your train of thought abruptly ended by the quick pace of heavy footsteps rushing closer from behind you, a sense of dread spiking you instinctively.

It didn’t take you long to feel sure you were being followed, trying and failing to keep your breathing even as you gave a discreet glance to your side, fear numbing your cheeks at the hulking figure of a man creeping close behind you in your peripheral.

The pace of your own steps picked up as you settled on the best course of action.

Closer in distance to where you were now was the subway entrance but you didn’t take comfort in being followed underground a little too long before all the platforms would fill with people headed to work.

The café would take you a couple minutes more to get to but there was always a line outside the building this time of morning and you felt safer knowing whoever was following you probably wouldn’t try anything with a handful of witnesses around.

It looked like you were getting a coffee after all.

Adrenaline and a sense of panicked determination pushed your feet to carry you faster, still glancing to your side every minute to gauge how far away this person was, preparing to start running should he get too close for comfort. He was already too close for comfort as it was.

Winding around a couple streets later, you took a deep breath as the familiar coffee spot came into view, a tinge of relief easing the tension in your stomach at the line of people formed by the doors just as you thought there would be.

And then, just a few feet ahead, you spotted a man getting out of a sleek Audi, rounding the back of the car, and stepping up onto the sidewalk in the direction of the café, his back turned as he stopped to pay the meter.

A sudden idea sprang to mind and you didn’t give yourself any time to hesitate before you were going through with it.

“Hi, honey! So sorry I’m late,” you called out loudly, rushing towards the man and before he could even turn, you slid in front of him, your back to the car, him in front of you, creating a kind of barrier.

“Please play along,” you whispered anxiously, your arms thrown around his shoulders.

The man was understandably bewildered by this but also quickly recognized the scared, wild-eyed look on your face and was reaching out to wrap an arm around your waist seconds later.

It was strange. You were shaky and scared and in the arms of a complete stranger but his calm breathing and the way his hand on the small of your back held you steady made you want to pull him closer.

You refrained, not wanting to make him any more uncomfortable than he probably already was and instead, focused on your stalker, relief extinguishing the panic when he picked up pace and ran off, your grip releasing when he slinked around the corner of the building.

“I’m so sorry about that. I was being followed for a couple of blocks and didn’t know what else to do, I-”

You took a step back, the words rushing from your mouth before you were truly getting a good look at the man before you, taking him in until your eyes reached his face and it took all but two seconds to recognize who he was.

Alfred Pennyworth.

You’d never seen him in person, just in photos or in the news whenever the occasional story about Wayne Enterprises or the anniversary of the Wayne’s deaths were talked about, stunned to be in a situation like this with Bruce Wayne’s butler? Bodyguard? Guardian?

You’d always gotten the impression he was a little more than just the family butler.

The cane in his hand, the scar splitting his left brow, and the one framing his left eye gave you indication enough.

“Oh, that’s quite alright, miss. Are you hurt at all?” his tone was concerned but gentle, with a voice like syrup, accented and smooth, leaving you scrambling to reply as his eyes scanned you hastily

“N-no, thankfully, just a little scared. But I’m okay, I appreciate this, truly. I’m so sorry to have bothered you!”

You felt awkward still standing in front of him, your brain running a mile a minute, picking up things you hadn’t noticed in your rush to explain yourself.

The hint of cologne on his collar, the perfectly trimmed cut of his beard, and neat style of his hair, the salt and pepper color of both, the glint of gold from the watch around his wrist, and his sharp and tailored attire.

Oh.

He was handsome. Attractive in a refined way, the way an older man like himself seemed to possess. Classy, suave, smooth.

“Not to worry, you weren’t a bother at all. I’m glad you’re okay, I can only imagine that must have been very frightening. Can I hail you a cab or walk you somewhere safe?”

The offer had you stopping in your tracks, a little stunned by his lack of annoyance, there was only genuine concern, in his tone, in the soft blue of his eyes.

As if sensing your urge to protest out of inconvenience on his behalf he gave you a comforting smile, “The least I could do is make sure you’re on your way safely.”

There was that word again, “safe”, the exact word to describe how you felt standing next to him despite being strangers.

Given what had just happened you knew you should have your guard up a little more but you couldn’t help considering his offer for a moment and ultimately decided to accept.

“I’ll take a cab then, thank you, really I can’t thank you enough.”

“No need, miss, it’s my pleasure.”

You stayed close as he waited with you, sneaking glances at him while he searched for any taxis close by, catching one a few minutes later.

A shy smile wound its way to your lips at how he effortlessly guided you to the taxi cab when it stopped by the curb, not missing a beat to open the door for you, heat warming your cheeks at the gesture.

One more thank you was said and his kind response was given, waiting until you were tucked inside the car before he shut the door, his figure lingering just a moment longer in your peripheral as you gave your address to the driver.

You resisted the urge to look back at him as the car peeled forward, unsure why you felt a touch reluctant to leave him behind but you were already replaying the interaction in your head, a little giddy by how much of a gentleman Mr. Pennyworth had been towards you.

The drive home was one spent lost in thought.

Limbs restless with the edge of adrenaline the last ten minutes had given you, anxious about the man who had followed you and what might have happened if you were still out on the street, and simultaneously comforted thinking of the very attractive man who’d been there right in the nick of time.

Trying to make sense of it in the moment was only proving to make the base of your head throb, only knowing one thing for certain, you’d need to be extra careful and aware of your surroundings going forward.

–

Sleep had been elusive, your mind exhausted but unable to slow down as you counted down the few hours you had left before you needed to head back to The Iceberg, finally drifting off when you shut your eyes and pictured the dance you knew by heart now, imagining your body’s movements, everything slowing down till you felt drowsy enough to slip into a comfortable sleep.

The consequence of your morning being thrown off like it had been was running late for your rehearsal slot, cursing at yourself when you heard the familiar piano notes of the scales intended to get your feet and body warmed up for the day.

Eyes trained on the scuffed flooring, you slipped into the large studio, hoping to jump into the barre warmup with the rest of the girls without being noticed but it was too late.

You’d looked up for a mere second and caught the disapproving look of your dance instructor, mouthing a “sorry” to her before slipping on your favorite pair of well worn heels and taking your place at the barre.

Madame Olena Efanova made dancing a dream.

She never shared much of herself with the girls she taught but you all felt close to her anyways, starry eyed and hungry for the chance to dance her choreography.

It was her that kept you all coming back despite the oppressive environment the club could have, despite being under Cobblepot’s thumb.

You and everyone else working at the club had quickly come to loathe and fear him, you knew of his reputation as a gangster and didn’t particularly enjoy the shady business he conducted with many of the men that came to watch “his girls” dance at the new and improved Iceberg Lounge.

In the wake of the original being all but washed away in the flood, Oz sought to build himself up out of the ruins.

44 Below was now hidden in plain sight, the new, more intimate location and jazzy burlesque feel to The Iceberg acting as a convincing front for the real back room deals. Drugs, guns, money, you name it.

Madame Olena was the club’s saving grace. She made it feel important, real, something more than just lingerie and sexy dances and cabaret strip teases.

There was conditioning, countless rehearsals, costumes, sets built, each girl got their own routine to showcase, it was a full production that wouldn’t be what it was without her attention to detail and encouragement of the passion you all had for dancing.

And maybe most importantly of all she was the only one standing in between you all and Oz, protecting you and teaching you to survive him, to survive Gotham in general.

Your posture straightened and you focused on making graceful transitions between foot positions, relieved when she gave you an understanding look. She had, after all, been the one trying to convince Oz not to punish you for laughing at him last night.

Maybe you’d ask to speak with her after you practiced your routine, tell her about this morning, about being followed and not knowing who or why it happened, she’d have kind words for you without a doubt.

For now, you focused on making the prettiest lines with your arms, dipping into a plie and coming back up slow and controlled. Classical training couldn’t be beat.

–

The second time you would run into Alfred was barely a week after your first encounter, on an ordinary and particularly chilly Friday night.

Picking up an extra shift at your sometimes second job hadn’t been the plan but another dancer friend of yours needed the extra hands for drink services and you’d agreed to spend your evening at The Magpie helping out.

Something about an investor dinner for Gotham’s Symphonic Orchestra and their partners; you hadn’t been too concerned with the details, satisfied with the extra money it would bring and opportunity to catch up with your friend.

The lush wine red of The Magpie’s interior design and color scheme was always a favorite of yours, appreciative of the more intimate vibe of the place despite it being a higher end restaurant and bar, even if you’re weren’t getting paid you’d still have come by in your best attire just to be in the space.

Kiera greeted you warmly at one of the employee entrances, sharing a laugh at how you’d worn the same dress, a tried and true pick that paired exceptionally well with the dark hue of both your skin tones, of course you were just that in sync with each other.

It had been like that when you had first met too, she was one of the newer girls at the club then just as you were but you think maybe she saw a lot of herself in you and stuck by your side, a quiet friendship forming almost instantly.

There wasn’t much time to talk before you were both hurried along to the upper level of the building with the balcony terrace that overlooked the city, an impressive bar centered in the middle of the wide space, clusters of plush love seats and tables filled the rest of the space, replicating the same distinguished and intimate feel of the restaurant below.

You just barely caught a glance at the table assignments before you were ushered off to the bar, but you were almost positive you had spotted his name on the reservation list.

It was a touch alarming, being acutely aware of your heartbeat thudding against your ribcage, stomach flipping at the fact that you’d be in the same space tonight. It sounded silly you knew that, feeling a little foolish that part of you reasoned he wouldn’t recognize you while another part secretly hoped he did.

You were sure you weren’t even a blip on his radar, you couldn’t allow yourself to think he would remember the brief interaction between you that day but even so, butterflies tickled your skin at the thought of bumping into him again.

So to put it to rest, you made a deal with yourself, not to expect anything from him, you’d act like you’d never met and that would be that but try as you might, your heart was still thudding as you maneuvered the platter of dazzling champagne flutes through the room.

Cheerful conversation could be heard as you got closer to the section you were covering, hands gripping the gold platter extra tight when you spotted him, unable to keep your eyes from searching.

Alfred Pennyworth looked even better than you remembered, a polite smile gracing his features, hair styled neatly back, a charcoal gray suit tailored perfectly on his frame, a matching tie with bronze accented thread stood out from the crisp white of his dress shirt underneath, the familiar gold of his wrist watch catching the light, almost like a beacon.

You were going to drop the platter if you weren’t careful, forcing yourself to pull it together as you stopped in front of his table, two other men sat on either side of him.

The conversation they were having lulled once you approached, carefully setting down the drinks in front of them, going through your old bottle service training, presenting everything neatly.

But your eyes were keen to wander again, catching his fingers coming into view as he reached for the champagne glass, cataloging the attractive build of his hands before you were looking at his face, one single second of eye contact made before he was looking away and then looking back in a double take.

A flicker of recognition flashed across his face, his attention snagged on you still, lagging behind while the two men next to him continued with their conversation after thanking you.

Too scared to peek at him again, you backed away, fleeing for the bar to keep yourself busy, your brain going a mile a minute with thoughts and far too many emotions to count.

You knew you couldn’t hide forever, couldn’t mistake that he recognized you and that you’d have to come around again to collect their glasses and offer more but you were so taken by surprise that you weren’t sure what to do as you grabbed the next platter and made your way to the next table, focusing on the group’s drink requests before you made for the bar again.

Eventually, you got enough courage to venture back to his table, a chilled bottle of Moët and Chandon in hand, but was disappointed to see Alfred missing from his seat.

You definitely shouldn’t be looking for him, definitely shouldn’t be slipping away when you saw a quiet moment to catch him alone once you spotted him out on the balcony, but it was already happening.

Now that the sun had fully set the wind had a sharper bite to it, your arms wrapping around yourself in a hug as you adjusted to the temper drop and weaved past the other guests strolling the terrace to meet Alfred at the stone balcony ledge.

“Hi, Mr. Pennyworth? I don’t know if you remember me but I feel like we keep bumping into each other,” you approached slowly, trying to keep your teeth from chattering.

“I do remember you, I’m happy to see you’re doing well, I hope you haven’t had any more trouble from that stalker, and please, just call me, Alfred.” his hands had been clasped behind his back until now, his right hand jutting forward to shake yours.

“N-no, no more trouble thankfully. I still really appreciate you looking out for me in that moment.” your lashes fluttered at the firm grip of his hand, how the other one came up to press against the back of your palm too.

“As I told you then, it was the least I could do. And oh my, you must be so cold out here! Here, allow me, please,” his brows furrowed as he took in the way you shivered, shrugging off his thick wool coat and holding it open, helping you slide your arms into the sleeves.

He wasn’t helping the already smoldering crush you’d developed and this by far topped the list of things he’d done so far to make you interested in him.

You thanked him and gave him your name after he asked, the two of you laughing at how you’d met twice now and he didn’t even know your name.

The sound of his rich, deep accent speaking the syllables of your name made you shiver again but this time for an entirely different reason, the cold no longer much of a concern as you conversed with him a bit, learning he was here on behalf of a Wayne Foundation initiative with the Orchestra, that he loved classical music and probably would have been here regardless of it being a business venture.

You learned one of the men he’d been sitting at the table with was Lucius Fox, his business partner at Wayne Enterprises who’d suggested he come tonight and you were silently thanking Mr. Fox for doing so, content to talk to him all night if you could.

He asked about you too, and you explained that you were here as a favor to a friend, that you were a dancer but had also been working in the Gotham nightlife scene for awhile and could make a mean dry apple martini, the two of you falling into an easy rhythm with each other until a voice from the balcony doors called your attention.

“Alfred, they’d like to go over some additional plans for the project…we need your input.” Mr. Fox called out from the balcony entrance to which Alfred let him know he’d be back inside in a minute.

“Thank you for being lovely company, I regret I have to cut things short.” his sympathetic smile and warm compliment made your heart flutter.

“Of course, I understand! I have to get back to the bar soon anyways but it was nice to see you again too.”

He was already walking away when you realized something.

“Oh! I still have your coat!” you tried to call out to him but it was too late, wind cutting across your words and the French doors shutting behind him all at once.

You hummed to yourself, weighing your options as you looked out over the twinkling lights and inky black sky of the city again, wondering if it was completely selfish to keep the coat for a little while longer.

It felt special, more than just a nice gesture, maybe you were reading too much into it but the way his hands had lingered on your arms wasn’t something you could shake.

The cold and the sneaking suspicion Kiera was looking for you had you hurrying back inside, reminding yourself to find him at the end of the night and give the coat back, and maybe, if you were brave enough, ask to see him again.

Maybe that was too bold, and could you afford to believe meeting him a second time had been more than just coincidence? You weren’t sure and that thought was even further complicated when the later evening hours rolled in and you couldn’t find him or Mr. Fox, realizing he must have left earlier than you thought he would.

You didn’t bother putting your own coat back on as you headed home later, happy to be wrapped up in something that was his. You wondered if he would come back to the restaurant in search of it, wondered if you should have left it there in case he did but you had decided to indulge this bit of desire, promising to take good care of the expensive material until you found a way to return it to him.

The question of how that might happen coming to you in the shape of a little black business card in the coat pocket, his name and contact information engraved in the center in curled silver lettering.

Wayne Enterprises was an intimidating building even from afar, impressive and sleek, looming over everything near it, but now that you knew he was in there somewhere, your opinions had shifted.

Less looming and more enticing.

The intimidation was still very much there, however, nerves rising now that you were inside and asking to meet with Alfred Pennyworth, the man that had been in your thoughts all weekend, the man who’s coat you were here to return.

The very coat you had draped over your arms, concealing your restless fingers as you gave your name to the lobby secretary and waited while they rang Alfred’s office number.

You hoped you hadn’t interrupted him at a bad time, it was a Monday morning after all and you felt a little anxious knowing you just showed up without an appointment, you knew he was probably busy but thought dropping by would come off as less earnest, less thought out, not giving away just how much you’d actually thought about being near him again.

Your worries weren’t given any more time to swirl around, the secretary confirming you’d be seen by him right away, feet slow and careful not to stumble as you were directed towards a set of elevators and given a floor number.

The journey up to his office was spent reminding yourself that it wasn’t stupid to be doing this, wasn’t silly to try and follow a feeling, to follow the cues of something you thought might be there.

What was the point if you didn’t try?

Soon enough, the elevator came to a stop, dinging open with a bright chime. There were only a few offices on this floor, the one directly in front of you was where you’d been directed to go, only having to take a few steps forward before you were knocking softly on the dark wooden door.

It wasn’t too long before it swung open and there he was…his rolled up sleeves making his forearms the first thing you notice.

God, you wished he didn’t look so handsome all the time. The simple waistcoat and slacks he had on made you feel a little underdressed, in awe of how he always looked so put together, so classy.

He spoke your name sweetly and ushered you inside his office, “Come in please, it’s nice to see you again!” that familiar feeling of safety and warmth easing the nerves you felt about all the ways you were different from him, why this might have been a stupid idea.

His words were cheerful, nothing in his tone or body language suggested you were inconveniencing him and that made you feel relieved.

Elegant described him perfectly but it could have also be used to describe his office space, the decor a mix of modern and gothic, dark stains of wood and furniture to match, ornate bookshelves lined the wall behind a massive oak desk in the middle of the room, the spines of hundreds of beautiful books filled the shelves, making you smile. Of course he was a reader.

His desk was littered with papers and pens, a stack of books, binders, a laptop open and an empty tea mug to the side. It all fit what you had pictured.

“Thank you, I know this is unexpected but I…well I'm sure you’ve been missing your coat. That night at The Magpie, you left it with me, I hope it’s okay that I came here, I found one of your business cards in the pocket and thought I’d return it to you.”

Your words were careful, gauging his reaction, pleased when he nodded and took the coat from your outstretched hand, moving to hang it up on the rack near the door.

“That’s very kind of you, I had been missing it actually, it’s an old favorite of mine. I appreciate that.” he moved then to stand at his desk, tidying up the papers as you inched closer.

A rich brown chaise and matching ottoman occupied the space to the right of his desk, the room still feeling cozy despite the large space. He had filled it with paintings and antiques, resembling something a little out of an art museum.

“Yeah! It’s no problem, I appreciate you for lending it to me, I was going to return it that night but I think you left before I could.” you fiddled with the strap of your purse, happy to just watch him move around his space.

“Ah yes, I admit I did have to leave in a hurry that night and totally forgot about it, but I knew it was in safe hands,” he smiled at you then, the brightness of it reaching all the way to his eyes.

You returned it, falling a little quiet as he spoke to you again, telling you to make yourself comfortable, watching for a second as he picked up the stack of books to return them to their proper shelves, and you, moving for the two armchairs angled towards one another in front of his desk, leaning against the back of one.

Now was your chance to say something, deciding not to shy away from showing your interest this time.

“Hey, can I…ask you something?”

“Of course, ask away.” he glanced back at you as he found the right spot for the remaining book in his hand.

“That night. Did you only give me your coat because I was cold?”

He faced you now, the edges of his mouth twitched up into a smile for the slightest second. Your breaths coming short and shallow as he took a couple steps closer to you.

“No. Not only because of that. You were freezing and it’s what any decent man should have done but…yes, there was another reason.”

You hoped he couldn’t hear the way your heart was beating in your chest as he grew silent, pushing the ball into your court now, your eyes searching his own for a moment before you found your words.

“Well, then I have to admit something too. It was hard making the decision to come here to give it back.”

“Oh, how so?”

“I just knew it would probably be the last time I’d run into you ever again.”

The words left your lips in a hushed whisper, your chest tight as he maneuvered even closer to where you were still leaning against the armchair.

“Hm, then I guess this was meant to be. The other reason I had for giving you my coat was because I hoped it would mean it wouldn’t be the last time I’d run into you again too. That’s a part of the truth.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he took another step closer. Just a mere foot away from you now.

“What if I wanted to hear the whole truth?”

“I’d tell you that I haven’t quite been able to stop thinking about you since the morning we met. Then, I’d say that what I really wanted to do that night on the balcony was kiss you.”

Flustered at the way he was looking at you, the words had been slow to process in your brain, only registering when your gaze caught the slightest lick of his lips.

He was confirming that he was just as interested as you were and it felt so genuine.

“So what’s stopping you now?”

“Is that what you’d like, love? For me to kiss you?”

Your sharp little intake of breath wasn’t missed, his eyes crinkling as he chuckled at your reaction to the pet name. The new tenderness in his voice made you lose your words entirely, only a simple nod gave him your answer.

He approached slowly, closing the distance between your bodies with a single step forward, still giving you time to back out and you appreciated that he wanted your permission but there wasn’t anything you were more sure of than knowing you wanted this, right now.

The tilt up of your head sealed your answer as his own dipped to meet you, your eyes closing as his lips captured yours, warm, soft, sure.

Alfred felt solid and steady, your hands coming up to rest against his broad chest as he kissed you, the soft press of his lips turning a touch deeper, more eager when you leaned into him, a soft passion echoing in the way a warm hand came up to cup your chin, keeping you close to him.

You never wanted him to stop, getting pulled into a dreamy haze as you kissed, but your already racing heartbeat surged higher in alarm at the sudden woosh of the office door opening, your mind almost too foggy to react but Alfred was already pulling away from your mouth, taking a step back as Bruce Wayne came into view.

“Hey, Alfred I had a question for you about the-oh….” the younger man had just looked up from the papers in his hand in time to see the two of you pull away from each other.

The way his eyes bounced back and forth between you and Alfred made you cringe inwardly, mortified that you’d been caught kissing by one of the most famous figures in the city, and caught with his butler at that.

Alfred cleared his throat and turned to address him, explaining who you were and that you’d dropped by to return something of his he’d lost.

If it were anybody else you were sure the seamless way he maneuvered into explaining would have worked but Mr. Wayne didn’t look convinced…a similar twitch of a smile forming in amusement before he was back to being unreadable, apologizing for coming in unannounced.

Your eyes flit about for anywhere else to look, glancing at your phone quickly to see the time. Damn it. You needed to leave, there was a show tonight and you were cutting it very close to time.

“I didn’t realize the hour, I really should get going but thank you for making time in your schedule to meet.” the words came out more rushed than you wanted them to but there wasn’t any time to really explain your haste in departing despite the obvious interruption.

“Of course yes, I was more than happy to.” came Alfred’s even response, an understanding in his eyes that put any worries at ease that he’d taken your move to leave so quickly the wrong way.

Gathering yourself, you made for the door, giving Mr. Wayne a polite nod of acknowledgment on your way out, still a little frazzled by his presence and a touch annoyed at his interruption.

You wish there had been more time to talk to Alfred, to see where else the kiss could have gone, to stop tiptoeing around the words you really wanted to say and ask up front if you could see each other again, but the little note with your phone number written on it tucked into the inside breast pocket of his coat would have to suffice as an invitation to continue this, whatever this was, thankful you’d slipped it in there before coming.

You weren’t quite ready for the encounters you had thus far to fade into memories just yet.

Alfred walked you to the door, opening his mouth to say something before stopping short, watching the way you turned back to face him, gesturing to the pocket of his coat just inches away from you, hoping he’d catch on before you turned forward again, walking away.

Giddy laughter broke free from your chest as soon as you were alone in the elevator, almost unable to believe what had just happened. That kiss still fresh on your mind, your lips still warm, buzzing at being against his.

It was his move to make now.

Distracted was an understatement as the rest of the day continued on, a sense of anticipation filling you that was one part to do with being on stage tonight and another part to do with Alfred.

Hopeful that he’d call, that he’d want to see you again, trying not to listen to the tiny twinge of doubt as the night ticked by.

It was right after the show that your phone trilled suddenly at your vanity, you almost missed the ringtone from all the chatter of the crowded dressing room, but caught it on the fourth ring, rushing to slide into your robe before you slipped outside to the alley round back.

“Hello?!” your voice full of baited excitement.

“Good evening, love. It’s me, Alfred. I found your note and I hope you know that I have been thinking about that kiss the entire day.”

“Me too,” you giggled, unable to stop the rush you felt at being called “love” again, at the smoothness of his voice over the phone, right next to your ear, biting the nail of your thumb as you found your words. “But I think maybe our kiss was cut way too short.”

“Oh I very much agree,” his own happy chuckle came after, “I didn’t get the chance earlier but if we hadn’t been interrupted I was going to ask if you’d like to go out with me this weekend, if you are free that is and comfortable with that.”

You had to keep from blurting out your answer as he continued, “I want to take you out to dinner, to do this properly, you deserve that.”

His last words made you burn to kiss him a million times more. The thoughtfulness had you melting.

“I would love that, thank you. I’m free Saturday evening.”

“Perfect I’ll pick you up then.”

“Goodnight, Alfred,” you could practically hear the smile in his voice and hoped he could do the same with yours.

The frigid air did nothing to tamper your high spirits as he let you know he’d be in touch again with details about the date, reluctantly letting you go with a wistful, and comforting goodbye.

“Goodnight, love.”

It was soon, maybe too soon but you couldn’t help the feeling already settling deep in your bones that maybe he was right, that maybe this was meant to be after all.

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A/N: Ahh well here we are! I know this was a longer length fic to start off the series but really couldn’t resist writing out all of what I envisioned in my head so I hope that translated smoothly here!

Please let me know what you think! I would love to hear your thoughts and predictions, anything and everything!

Thank you so much for reading and big big thanks to @eupheme @squidlywiddly87 and @thaddeuscranes for being my sisters in ✨ Dilfred✨ arms lol and inspiring me and encouraging me to write this series!

some tags, no pressure! @flamingdisputes @aislupu @kneelforloki @pipsqueakkitten

#amalia writes #the batman!alfred pennyworth #alfred pennyworth x reader #alfred pennyworth x black reader #alfred pennyworth x woc #alfred pennyworth x you #alfred pennyworth imagine #alfred pennyworth fanfiction #alfred pennyworth fanfic #andy serkis #alfred pennyworth fic #alfred pennyworth x fem!reader

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