#and if we wake someone up we’re being a dick for something they may or may not even be able to fix
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we are so bad at being alive honestly but. uh. nvm that
#don’t know our service provider so we can’t look up if they have outage maps#brain is too fuzzy to fix the router#i don’t know if we have control over this at all— it did this and came back two or three times earlier— but the fact that if we do#we’re failing to exercise it is so frustrating#and if we wake someone up we’re being a dick for something they may or may not even be able to fix#we’re just really bad at being people and we have to live with that!!!
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I keep thinking about his angel eyes
Hazbin Hotel! Adam x Fem!reader
Part 3 —> Part 1 | Part 2
Warnings: talk about self hate
A/N: Here is the part 3 everyone wished for. I decided to make a total of 4 parts, so you sadly still need to wait a bit for the end :,) Like always I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes.
Y/N POV:
I found myself in a room similar to a movie theater. I’m not able to move a single muscle in my body. Suddenly a movie started playing, memories of my life in heaven or more specially about Adam and me. I smiled and felt all warm and fuzzy inside as the memories of our growing relationship were displayed right in front of me.
The first time we met, how we fought at work, how we began to spend more time with each other, our first dates and how he took his mask down for the first time. This may sound exaggerated but that was the proof of how much he trusts me and oh lord was he gorgeous. His golden eyes had me captured the moment I looked into them…his beautiful angel eyes. Nothing was more beautiful than seeing his true emotions reflect in them. Everyone knew him as "The first man" or the self quoted "Dick master" but I know it better. Deep down he’s a insecure soul who’s desperate for admiration and affection, especially after loosing his two previous wives to the same man.
Of course he was a total asshole when I first met him but he changed for the better and that out of his own will, that is something not everyone is willing to do. In a flash of seconds more memories were shown: Our first kiss, anniversary and lastly our wedding. It was a very magnificent day, I never ever thought I will find a lover let alone get married to someone. Everything was just perfect until the court accident today.
Suddenly everything went black. I don’t know where I am or what to feel, this is stranger than any dream or nightmare I ever had. I slowly stood up as a sudden blow of cold air hit me. I wrap my arms around myself as I start walking around in this strange void. All I can hear is my own heartbeat,breathing and the sound of my heels clicking on the ground. After what felt like an eternity I found a single white door in the middle of this nowhere.
Not knowing what else I should do I open the door and enter another black space with a single mirror standing in the middle. This is all so strange and overwhelming I couldn’t prevent myself from tearing up..pathetic that’s what I am. I took a deep breath and walked towards the mirror. I looked like an absolute mess with my eyes puffy from all the crying.
Suddenly the reflection changed in how I used to look like back then in hell. "Helloooo, redeemed or not I’ll always be a part of you.”, my reflection said. I was completely stunned…how is that even possible? "Do you remember what you used to tell your friends back then in hell? You said and I quote: You don’t need to be perfect to be worthy of being loved or deserving a better life. Everyone deserves a second chance and that goes for you too." My old self gave me a big smile and I couldn’t help but smile too.
In a way she is right but accepting yourself is much harder than people say. It takes lots of time, patience and willingness. My reflection gave me a look full of pity before she started to speak. "You probably think he will leave you, hm? Of course that can be an option but would he really? It’s like Rosie said it’s difficult to admit things you’re not proud of but you’re still you. The fact you used to be a demon doesn’t change the person you really are, the person he grew to love and cherish. It seems like we’re running out of time..it was nice seeing the person I became. You’re much stronger than you think.", she chuckled and waved at me. "Farewell Y/N..it’s time to wake up now. Emily must be going insane from how much she worries about you."
My reflection disappeared and left me with a warm feeling inside my heart. With a smile on my face I walked through the mirror and woke up in a bed, which must belong to Emily. In less than a few seconds Emily wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "You’re awake, I was so scared you wouldn’t wake up.", she said while sniffing onto my chest. I couldn’t help but smile, she’s such a sweetheart. "Shh, I’m here now.", I said while patting her back.
Part 4
#adam x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel adam x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#x reader
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By Any Means Chapter 23 (Malcolm Bright x reader)
“I don’t think you and Joseph fully understood how much you fucked over my life,” said Dick conversationally, “I just wanted a normal life and then you two had to come in and ruin it.”
“You could’ve said no,” you muttered weakly, “you didn’t have to-”
“Yes I did,” hissed Dick, “you think that Joseph would just let someone walk away after introducing them to his world? I had no choice.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes I do,” Dick’s voice broke slightly but he quickly coughed and covered it up, “you always wanted to be part of this.”
“It was good money.”
“You have no love of art.”
“You bastard-”
You tried to punch him but you were still too weak. You fell limply into the water again and Dick just grimaced. He continued to lay flowers down and said,
“Despite what it may seem like, I don’t hate you. I didn’t want you to wake up. For you to just slip into a sleep that you wouldn’t wake up from.”
“You could just let me go.”
“No. You see, you have to go in order for me to be free from this life.”
“Why?”
“Because you were meant to be there when Joseph had his heart attack,” Dick said bitterly, “if you weren’t sick then it would’ve been you that saw what happened to him. It would’ve been you that feels this way.”
“You got him out,” you said, “you got him to a hospital.”
“He still died.”
“He would’ve died-”
“Don’t you finish that fucking sentence,” Dick snapped, “don’t you fucking dare. This is what I need to do and then I can rest easy.”
*
“You think she’s going to die?” asked Dani
“Yes,” Malcolm said as he ran about your flat, “I do. This is all my fault.”
By now they were all in your flat. Malcolm was practically tearing it apart for any clues that might help him find you. He couldn’t let you die. He wouldn’t let you die. He wouldn’t let anyone else he cared about get hurt.
“Look kid,” Gil gripped Malcolm’s shoulders, “take it easy. You won’t be of any help to l/n in this state.”
“If you’re convinced that Richard is the killer then why are we at your girlfriend’s apartment?” asked JT, “why aren’t we at his?”
“Because,” Malcolm said, ignoring the comment about you being his girlfriend, “he kills people in a manner that is relevant to them. Paintings that are linked to his victims. We’ll find that here. We just need to keep looking.”
“But l/n is an art student,” said Dani, “there’s got to be hundreds of painting related things in her flats.”
“No,” Malcolm shook his head, “no it’ll be something… I’ll know it when I see it. Please, we’ve got to continue looking. We’re wasting time!”
Malcolm pulled himself free from Gil’s grip and began to look through your flat again. Gil nodded at Dani and JT and they joined in the search, although with less enthusiasm than Malcolm. Malcolm paused when he reached one of your sketch books. You usually let him flick through them but that one you didn’t. You would slap his hand away and give him a teasing smile.
“Just another secret of mine,” you’d say, “to add to the collection.”
Still, Malcolm was sure that you’d forgive him if it meant he’d save your life. Malcolm took a deep breath and opened the book. At first it just looked like another one of your sketch books. However, the further Malcolm got through it, the more he realised what the drawings were of.
“You found something there, kid?” asked Gil
“Yes.”
“Fucking hell,” said JT as he looked over Malcolm’s shoulder, “those are-”
“Drawings of the murder portraits,” finished Malcolm, “which must mean…”
He turned over the page and grimaced. He trailed a finger over the drawing. A copy of the painting of Ophelia.
“I wonder,” he said, “what made her change the location of it.”
“You recognise it?” asked Gil
“Yes, don’t you?” Malcolm threw the book to the side and bolted towards the door, “now we’ve got to hurry. We still might be able to save her!”
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The randomizer ended up choosing "Freaky," which I honestly ended up loving.
I’m not a Vince Vaughan fan, but I love “Freaky Friday” (Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsey Lohan FTW!), and I like most of Blumhouse’s stuff.
If Isaac was planning on getting laid, that’s not happening now.
I was raised that you don’t wander around people’s homes and touch their shit without permission. And you especially don’t pick up their expensive ass basement wine.
Oh, cool! Vince is a killer like Jason, not a realistic one. That wine bottle thing was really cool.
All of these early kills are so cool. Definitely feeling the ‘70s-80s slasher vibes. Also, how tall is Vince? He looks huge compared to the kids.
Girl! Stay in the hidden closet back until the cops show up. You may get shot, but that’s more survivable than whatever Vince is going to do to you!
I probably shouldn’t say, “I told you so,” to the murdered teenager, but… I told you so!
I am already anti Josh. Between the “black weiner” comment and the fact that he’s okay with date raping dudes.
Y’all need to get Millie therapy. She can’t see how hot she is, which means she may have some dysmorphia happening.
And she seems to still be hung up on her dad’s death. She should’ve gotten therapy for that already, but she definitely needs it now.
Also, also, I think she was on “Supernatural.” Definitely needs therapy.
Cameron! That mustache is wild. Oh. It’s a douche’stache.
When I was in high school (and uni), if anybody treated the mascot like that, the coach would make them eat their jockstrap. And beaver jokes were absolutely treated like you’d pulled your dick out. (Oregon! Though our mascot was a “pioneer.”)
Also, our homecoming dance was right after the football game. We seriously had to shower in the locker rooms and then go to homecoming court. Except that year they canceled the dance because there was a fight in the cafeteria earlier that week.
Mascots are on the cheerleading team. Where is the cheerleading coach? Vince could take both of them, I’m sure.
Though, maybe not, our coach used to lift people to demonstrate how to do it properly.
Why do they never wait for half a second longer? You can’t see the guy for five seconds, he’s obviously not gone.
This is the absolute scariest place a person could wake up.
Wait, the football game was on Thursday? That means this school has the *mascot* go to the *JV games.* How big is this damn school?
This is absolutely the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. The Butcher’s eating habits are worse than any of his kills.
Not!Millie is holding a knife creepily while not saying anything. Why is Cop Sis acting like that’s remotely normal? Even for someone who has been traumatized?
Ryler would be the worst person to come out to. She’s going to immediately put it on TikTok.
Told ya!
Millie, sweetie. Why are you showering in the girls’ locker room?
The school has a cryo unit? For women’s athletics?!? How big is this high school?
Not as cool as when Jason did it, but still good.
“You’re Black! I’m gay! We’re so dead!” is still just as good despite it being played to death on the commercials.
I also love that Nyla and Josh keep kicking her ass even after she puts the weapon down. They wouldn’t survive a horror movie, but not because they were stupid.
I’m not sure that I would’ve tried the Beaver Dance to get through to my friends, but it worked.
I am also tall enough to see over most bathroom stalls. It’s annoying.
HAHAHA! I love the Spanish teacher. Also, it *is* weird that an Aztec dagger has an inscription in Spanish. I wonder if that’s going to mean something later or if it’s just a lampshade hanging.
Poor Butcher. The teacher probably deserves to get his ass beat, but Butcher forgot how small he is now. He’s literally like a foot shorter.
You know what, Cameron? I will absolutely not be upset when you get murdered.
I’ve never heard “excited” as a euphemism for “gay” before, but I like it.
The Butcher has literally the best come back to a groper ever.
Is this a horror themed indoor mini golf place? That’s amazing! I would absolutely live there! Also, mini golf was created by service members in Fayetteville, N.C.
Millie enjoying how the Butcher dressed her and did her makeup is wild but also great. Butcher clearly has been reading his Vogue because he is accentuating all of his assets.
Murder Barbie is absolutely a doll that should exist. I know so many goths who would buy it.
Is this kid getting ready to come out as straight? This whole confusion is so unbelievable. I ugly laughed.
The confession was so unbelievable I called it a confusion.
Don’t put your head against the door! He’s going to stab you! Told ya.
This is the second grossest thing in the movie. Not because it’s two dudes, but because one is Vince Vaughn.
Is it just me or have all the victims after the Butcher ended up in Millie’s body deserved to be killed? (Maybe not Ryler, even though she’s awful.)
Butcher came through that wall like fricking Jason!
(Most) Cops don’t actually shoot into the sky like that for exactly that reason. Also the bit where gravity is a thing.
Yay! Millie is back in her body! Now she can get kisses!
Oh, there’s no way the Butcher is actually dead. I’ve seen way too many of these to believe that.
“Char, you left the door open again!” Millie, surely you are more genre savvy than this now. He’s in the damn house. Get out.
Oh, yeah! The whole family is kicking his ass. You go, ladies!
The ending line is ridiculous, and I love it.
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An Arrangement, chapter 16
A/N: I’M SORRYYYYY! Firstly for this chapter being late (I had a great weekend full of puke and full diapers), and also for leaving the previous chapter so… Evil. Whoops. Onwards!
Feedback feeds the soul and requests are always open – nothing is too weird, sweet, angsty or kinky for me.
MASTERLIST
SERIES MASTERLIST
ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS
Previous chapter
Pairing: Henry Cavill x reader
Warnings: Language, angst
Wordcount: 2.696
Chapter 16: Early Spring Till
May
You were staring into the blank wall. Your legs were buzzing from the lack of movement, your eyes dry from the unshed tears, and your fingertips were cold.
Your phone buzzed and you forced yourself to look at it. Another goddamned article about you and Henry and your love. You wanted to throw up. Y/N and Henry are planning a fall wedding!
No, you sure as shit were not, but apparently, anybody and their grandmother knew the two of you, and knew all about your wedding plans. You threw the phone on the bed next to you and fell back into your chair – it buzzed again, but this time more insistent than the single buzz from news outlets.
Your best friend was calling you and tears were welling up again. You didn’t know if you could lie to her.
“Yeah?” Your voice cracked as you picked up. “Hey, baby!” she sounded so happy, it almost hurt. “How’s life with the hunky fiancée?” Your lips pressed to a thin line, and you grasped the phone a little harder. “Same old, same old.” You replied. Your voice cracked again from the misuse of it over the last two weeks. “Babes, you sound awful. Are you okay?” Other than the fact that you were trapped in an inescapable contract that ruined your heart and mind? “Just peachy. I think I’m coming down with a cold.” You tried to force the smile into your words, but your voice sounded so dead and lifeless, you’d be surprised if she believed you. “Girl, you are a shitty liar.” You almost laughed at that. She had no idea. “What’s going on? Is he being a dick?” You sighed. “Something like that. Did you want something?” She sighed but must’ve decided you weren’t in the mood for any type of deep conversation, because she didn’t press it. “Alright. Uh, yeah, do you remember Axel?” “The guy from the coffeeshop?” “Yes!” She sounded almost giddy. “He finally asked me out!” “Oh, wow. That was a long time coming.” She chuckled at you. “No kidding. Anyway, we’re going to this little indie-concert, and I knowyou’re super busy being a celeb and all, but do you have five minutes to help me with my outfit?” “Sure.” You weren’t actually sure about anything anymore. “Okay, either that little red dress we got that one time on rodeo…” Her voice faded out as your eyes went back to the wall.
You felt hollow and had felt that way since the last time you had a private conversation with Henry. You had stayed in your room for the rest of the trip, lying about feeling sick, and when you finally had to fly back, you sat pressed against the window, headphones on and hadn’t even glanced at the man next to you. You knew he had been trying to talk to you for the entire trip, but you couldn’t deal with it. It was, admittedly, stupid to let yourself get this hurt; you had been acutely aware of the contract and what it meant, so you should’ve guarded yourself better. From him, emotions, whatever else. You definitely should’ve have slept wit him. Even worse, you felt so guilty for letting yourself like him, especially because you’d never believed in the whole love comes fast – you didn’t think it was possible to fall for someone that quickly, but on the other hand, you’d spent every single waking moment with him. You were bound to form some sort of attachment. Now, back at the house, you’d locked yourself inside your original room and barely left. You felt as if you were healing from being hit by a train, your body heavy and sluggish, your head in a constant fog. After three days, he’d stopped trying to talk to you.
“Y/N? Hellooooo?” you were brought back to the present as you focused back on her voice. “Sorry, zoned out.” You stammered. “Uh, I think go for the red. It looks amazing on you.” You aimed and hoped she hadn’t been talking about something else. “You know, you’re right. I shouldn’t think this hard about it, he’s seen my hungover in a Halloween-costume.” “Exactly. He’ll think you’ve descended from heaven no matter what.” She laughed a little but grew quiet – you knew that silence a little too well. “You’re… Okay, you know you can tell me anything, right? If something is bothering you, if…” She sighed. “You know, right?” Not this, I can’t, you thought, but simply answered her. “Yup. Promise I’m good.” You hung up and curled into yourself, arms around your knees and tried to settle the unease in your stomach. You hated this.
“We’re supposed to leave for the carpet in 20 minutes.” Henry’s voice sounded muffled behind the door, devoid of emotion. You didn’t answer, but let his footsteps retreat before getting up and tried to fix your makeup. The dress was on, although nothing in you wanted to leave the safety of your room. You sneered at your reflection – you couldn’t recognize the person staring back at you with bloodshot eyes and a heavy air around her.
The car was waiting in front of the house, and you slid in quickly, scooting as far to the side as you could as he got in as well. He was quiet and you stole a glance at him. His hands were fisted on his legs, his jaw clenched, and he looked so tired. His tie was crooked.
“Y/N, please…” His voice was broken into a million pieces. “Can we not. I can’t do this, Henry.” You said quietly. “Just give me a chance to explain.” “There’s nothing to explain. Don’t worry, I’ll put on a smile and answer questions, hold your hand and pose for pictures, but that’s it.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “I want you to want that.” He whispered. “I’m… Just stop.”
He did.
The red carpet was a blur of people with no faces, his hand too hot and heavy around yours. Your cheeks hurt.
June
You slept a lot. There wasn’t much more to do. He sometimes knocked on your door, but you never answered. There wasn’t a reason to do it, all had already been said. You did, however, let Kal inside. He would often just rest his giant head on your feet, looking up at you with those big eyes, almost like he was expecting you to explain yourself.
And that’s where you found yourself one evening, where the darkness had swallowed the view and rain hammered on the window, Kal on your feet and you staring down at him with narrowed eyes. “What?” he didn’t answer, which made sense to you. He was a dog, after all. “I don’t owe you an explanation. You can go ask your dad with those eyes instead.” He let out a whine and you bent down slightly to rub his ear. “I wish it was different, baby. I do. I just got in too deep and forgot my oxygen-tank, is all.” He whined again. “I know. I feel the same, but there’s nothing more to say. Even if I wanted, I don’t think there’s a way to fix it.” He rumbled a little and leaned his head against your legs. You sighed. “I should’ve never said yes to this.” You mumbled, your hand absentmindedly still stroking the soft fur. “You know, I did really think there was something there. Maybe. Maybe I got too lost in myself and forgot to see him.” Kal whined again. “I know, buddy, me too.” You glanced out of the window, watching the raindrops chase each other.
“I miss it too.”
------------------
Henry June
He had tried. Many times. He could hear her moving around in her room, but as soon as he knocked, silence lay steadily – at first, he wanted to bust inside, yell at her, get her to understand, but he knew it wouldn’t help. Every event, interview and outing they’d had over the last two months had been full of tension and silence. He had to give it to her, she was brilliant as soon as they were in front of other people. Her smile never did reach her eyes, but she answered graciously, held his hand and was polite. Her hand felt small in his and he wished she’d keep holding on as soon as they got in the car, but she let go. Too fast for his liking.
He did get to know her before all of this, and she could be just as stubborn as him. He watched Kal trot into her room, the door closing after him and Henry sighed, leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed when he heard her voice.
He couldn’t help himself and he inched closer, leaning his ear against the door to listen. “I should’ve never said yes to this.” Her voice. She sounded sad, her voice cracking from lack of use. “You know, I did really think there was something there. Maybe. Maybe I got too lost in myself and forgot to see him.” He heard Kal whine, and his heart stuttered in his chest. He knew he shouldn’t listen to it, but it was like magnets being pulled from each other wit force; they’d always gravitate to each other, an invisible pull between them. I know, buddy, me too. I miss it too.”
Could a heart be shattered? Could a heart become pieces of mosaic, that never found purpose? Could he ever truly feelmore than the acute pain and hollowness that followed her and her words, her tonality and voice? The immediate pain from her voice ran through him like stitches, patching him with her pain alongside his own. He felt like early spring never came, the constant, heavy and dark winter was around him as her words sank into his body.
He had never intended for this to happen. He never thought he’d meet her, find her or feel her, and he had her for a heartbeat, before she slipped from his fingers again because of his mistake. He had damned himself halfway to hell for her hearing what he had told his mother – and then damned himself fully into hell for not insisting on telling her the full story.
He wanted her. It was what he was talking to his mother about, telling the full story and tried to find solace in her wisdom on how he could get out of the contract and keep Y/N in his life. He hadn’t known he was capable of that kind of love, much less as fast as it was. He wanted to know how he could tell Y/N without pushing her away, especially after Daniella had told him that there was no way they’d make this work. now, with Y/N’s words ringing in his head, he rushed to the living room to find his phone and quickly called Daniella.
“Henry? Is everything okay?” Her voice was frantic. “Is there any way of getting Y/N out of this? Any a all?” she sighed deeply. “Henry, this again? Why can’t you just let this run its course?” He narrowed his eyes. “Why should I? She means to much and she’s unhappy. I want her to choose for herself, not be forced to be in my company.” “Henry…” She hesitated. “Just let it be. I can’t do anything about it.” “Don’t bullshit me, I’ve known you too long.” He spat. “So she’s unhappy, it was a well-known side effect. I don’t understand why you’re upset, I talked to her and she’s in agreement.” He sighed and felt anger boil under his skin. “About that, you’ve never told me what you talked to her about.” “Does it matter? You’ll get out of this soon enough, and you can find yourself a real girlfriend. Preferably one you can trust.” He cracked his neck and stood, pacing the room in wide strides. “Someone like you?” she was silent. “What do you…” Her voice was small as she stammered her way through the words. “Don’t play dumb with me. You don’t think I didn’t notice? That I haven’t known for a while, why all my relationships go sideways? Why you’re keeping her in the contract, prolonging the pain? You think me stupid?” “I… It’s not…” “Please. I know you’ve had a finger in everything since you came on. I was forgiving because you used to be good at your job. I could handle the stares, the random touches, even your blatant disregard for me and my relationships.” He sneered. “But this? You’re doing what you can to ruin every single possibility for her and I to ever be cordial, and you’re doing it knowingly and willingly.” She laughed nervously. “Henry, come on. You know me.” “I do. Which is why I should’ve never trusted you with her. You knew how I felt, because I told you, and you’ve done your best to make me look like I don’t care about Y/N, because you can’t handle the fact that my devotion and admiration doesn’t go to you.” He spat. “I refuse to let you dictate my life, despite my previous actions. This is not then, this is not the other women. This…” he stopped pacing. “This is something entirely different to me, and you knew.” “Henry. What do you want me to do? You’ve signed a contract…” He chuckled mirthlessly.
“Which you’ve been quick to point out. What is in there, that makes you want it to stay on? I’d suspect you’d want her away as quickly as possible.” She chuckled. “Darling.” He wanted to throw up. Her tone was condescending and arrogant. “You can think what you want. It doesn’t matter. You’ll be ruined if it comes out that you paid a girl to play your girlfriend.” “I don’t care.” “Maybe not. You should. Yes, I might have been a little… Lines have been a little blurred, but I refuse to listen to you act like you’re high and mighty, when you’ve done just as bad.” “Wat did you tell her?” he insisted. Daniella breathed deeply. “It doesn’t matter.” “If you have even an ounce of respect for me, you’d tell me.” “Fine. I told her I think she’s here for your money and fame. That she had better be a good actor, because she was going to have to smile and wave for the world. Happy?” he rolled his eyes and felt like his skin was on fire in pure anger.
“That’s not the word I’d use.” He pressed his lips into a thin line. “You have no idea the amount of fucking damage you’ve done. I don’t care about the goddamned contract, Daniella.” He growled as he sat down.
“I’d willingly call every single media in the world and tell them the story, if it meant having that fucking contract voided. I don’t care about me, my career. I care about Y/N. I didn’t want her to be someone to me under a fucking contract, I wanted her to want to be something with me of her own. You’ve successfully ruined that.” “Hen…” “You’re fired, effect immediately.” He spat. “If you think for one second, I’m keeping you on now, you’re insane.” “Henry, you can’t…” “Watch me fucking do it. I’m done with you and your lies. “I cannot believe you’d stoop so fucking low. You’ve got an hour to get out of the office, delete everything and get yourself out of my life.” He hung up, not waiting for an answer, before calling his lawyer quickly.
“Yes?” “Aroon, how binding is the contract? Can I rip it? Get Y/N out?” He knew he sounded desperate, but he was out of options. “Uh, probably don’t rip a legal document, but… We can null it no problem. You sure? That means she’s out from the NDA.” “Who gives a shit about the NDA. I don’t. Do it, please, as fast as you can and let me know when it’s done.” “Sure, boss.” “Oh, and make sure to draw up a legal firing for Daniella, please.” “You fired her?” he sounded surprised. “Yes.” “Finally. Don’t worry, I got you.”
He hung up and looked to the staircase, leading to her quiet room.
He wasn’t hopeful to salvage anything with her, but he could try.
7
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Coming to Terms
Dream has been having a bad day, which has quickly turned into a bad week. Techno and Phil both need to go out and do essential tasks around the tundra, but they can't leave Dream alone either. So... they find a babysitter. words: 5,188 - read on ao3 instead
CW: overstimulation, implied panic attack, unintentional self-harm, referenced abuse
Dream has been having a bad day. Correction, he’s been having a bad week. He’s been caught in a bit of a spiral for the last several days, and the exhaustion from an attempt at healing keeps dragging him down before he can get out. The last thing Techno wants to do is leave Dream alone like this, but he and Phil have already pushed off as many necessary tasks as they can. They need to head out, but they can’t leave Dream alone… So in comes the Syndicate.
They consider a few people. Niki is chosen.
“Look, all you need to do is watch him for a day. We’ll be back by the end of it, and you can leave, alright?”
Niki scrunches her face up, which is, in all honesty, reasonable. She’s one of the people who didn’t want to interact with Dream, but Techno and Phil are running desperately low on options.
“Is there anyone else?” She asks. “What about Puffy? She’s a therapist, right? Wouldn’t she be more equipped for something like this?”
“A, we don’t want more people knowing about Dream than necessary, and she’s already refused to give Dream treatment. B, we don’t trust her to not psychoanalyze Dream when he really doesn’t want to be psychoanalyzed. Plus, we don’t know what kind of domestic issues there are because Dream hasn’t opened up about that part of his life yet.”
Niki winced. “What about Ranboo?”
“Well, you see, Ranboo’s been growing into himself recently,” Phil interjects, beside Techno. “Which is good, by all means, but that also means he’s been embracing that he’s a little bit of a dick sometimes. You’re literally the only person we can think of who can be… pleasant and hold your tongue around Dream.”
“And- and we don’t wanna sound misogynistic,” Techno quickly adds. “This isn’t a ‘the kind woman puts up with the toxic man’ situation; it’s just… Dream is fragile right now, like, really fragile, and we’re pretty sure you’re the only person who has the kind of self-restraint to not break him any more, you know?”
Niki raises a brow but ultimately sighs. “This is your only option?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, pretty much,” Phil laughs.
“...alright. I’ll watch him. One day, got it?”
“Oh my gods, thank you so much, Niki.”
So Niki is given keys to the house. Mentally, she prepares for whatever Dream might try. She saw him, briefly, in a Syndicate meeting or two, but only between several layers of fabric and zero spoken words. She doesn’t know what he’s like if he’s grown out of his… nastier habits yet. Techno has done everything in his power to tell the Syndicate that Dream has changed, but none of them have actually seen any change. Niki kind of doubts it, if she’s being honest, but she trusts Techno’s judgment more than anything. She knows Techno wouldn’t lie to her and lead her on like others in the past.
She wakes up the following day when things are still dark. Niki can see her breath, even within the small haven of an underground city warmed by countless fires and lanterns. She throws on her Syndicate cloak, getting ready to head out to the arctic. Hopefully, Techno didn’t want her to do anything with the animals because she definitely wouldn’t be able to stand being outside for that long. When she arrives, Techno thanks her profusely. He pledges to show her around the house and offers a few tips while Phil gets ready for their trip outside.
“Alright.” Techno swings his hands by his sides. Niki has noticed he’s stopped clapping them when he begins to speak. “First things first, Dream hasn’t eaten in, like, three days, so we really need you to try to get him to eat something. His diet has been pretty limited so far, but we left a list of things he’s been able to eat so far on the counter. Try to stay fresh- anything stale makes him throw up, and so does steak. Don’t offer it. We keep apples in a little icebox downstairs because he likes fruit cold. Also, Dream likes himself cold, too. He gets anxious when he’s hot.
“If Dream hides in his room, he’s most likely hiding under his bed. If you need to interact with him during that time, do not try to pull him out. That will scare him and he might bite. Instead, just kind of lay on the floor and face him and just… wait until he’s ready to talk. If you try to push him, he’ll probably just curl up more, and he tends to get really distant for the next day or two when that happens.
“If he asks for something, it means that he needed it about three hours ago and has only now gotten the courage to ask for it. Even if he prefaces it between a lot of ‘only if you want to’ and ‘you don’t have to,’ don’t believe him. We’re trying to teach him that asking for things is good but it’s been a bumpy ride. Also, he’s iffy on touch; I’d say it’s better to not try.”
Techno stops, tapping his lip. “Try not to let him outside without supervision; we haven’t really been able to block off potential hazards yet. Other than that, I think that’s everything. Dream is sleeping right now, but he knows you’ll be here. He might get startled anyway. Try not to stare or anything. It makes him uncomfortable. Just treat him like a nervous cat or something.”
Niki blinks, trying desperately to process all of the information that was just dumped on her. Techno waits patiently as she mentally backtracks and tries to commit everything to vague memory. Nervous cat? That’s what the ruler of the server has turned into?
“Okay… I think I got all of that?” Niki says, hoping she got everything she truly needed down. She knows how awkward things get when she or Techno has to start repeating themselves.
“Cool.” Techno sighs, running a hand through his hair until it gets caught in his braid. “A nervous, injury-prone cat… That’s Dream. Thank you for doing this, really. Dream just started being okay with being in the same room as boiling water, and I think I might have a breakdown if I have to leave to make tea again. This means a lot. Anything you need from us, me or Phil, we’ll be happy to help as soon as we get back.”
Niki nods. “Honestly, I didn’t think this would be on the agenda when I joined the Syndicate, but I’m happy to help you, Techno.”
“Of course.” Techno bows his head. “Of course. We’ll be back as soon as we can. Again, don’t let him… do anything to himself, okay?”
Niki gives another nod and a thumbs up. “You can count on me, Techno.”
Techno gives a strained smile and then, awkwardly, does a slight bow before leaving. His muffled voice filters through the door as he calls out to Phil, and then they head out. Niki takes in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before sighing as she watches the silhouettes of her friends disappear over the horizon.
Alright. She can do this. She may not like Dream, but she did agree as a part of the Syndicate to… help. This is just for Techno and Phil, to keep them from worrying. To watch Dream and make sure he doesn’t try anything he shouldn’t. Niki could do that. In fact, she was happy to keep the man out of trouble, if it were for Techno’s sake. Now she just needed to find something to do until there was someone to watch.
Niki glances around the house, finding things pleasantly clean. The chests were a bit of a mess, but things weren’t lying all over the place, and it looks like it’s been cleaned recently. It looks like the house has been somewhat baby-proofed, too, which makes a little chuckle bubble in Niki’s throat. They’ve only been housing Dream, and he’s certainly a grown man, isn’t he? What would they need to keep him out of drawers for?
Niki gets to entertaining herself with one of Techno’s many book recommendations, making a tiny home for herself on the couch. She opens the blinds and curtains, letting any sort of light filter in as much as it can. The sun is slow to rise in the arctic, and candlelight can only do so much. Slowly, as the sun rises over the north, Niki finds herself growing more hungry, so she starts making some food. It gets bright soon after that, lighting up the room with the near-blinding rays of the sun. Niki adjusts soon enough, simply happy to have more than enough reading light.
A few hours later, after Niki has already eaten and taken care of her share of the dishes, Dream emerges. The first thing she notices is that he’s completely maskless. Secondly, he looks exhausted to the bone, drowned in a dark green jacket and a black shirt underneath. Loose-fitting pants cover Dream’s legs, almost completely hiding his figure from view. Dream’s eyes are dark, his posture slouched inward, and his hair is messy, long, and frail. He looks unbearably tense. His eyes squint at how bright it is, but he tries to shake it off quickly with a flick of his hands. He does a quick double-take on Niki, eyes darting around the room before relaxing slightly. His attention never leaves her, though. His gaze makes a shiver crawl up Niki’s spine.
“Good morning, Dream!” She says politely because maybe Dream is worse in the mornings.
Dream waves tiredly, and Niki notices his bandaged finger. Something about it looks off until she realizes it’s too short to be normal, missing nearly the entire first section. She wonders how it happened, how she’s never noticed before. Dream takes his bandaged hand, dragging it down his face. He lets out a long sigh, sitting down at the circular table in the kitchen, leaning heavily on it for support. He raises his hands, and although they tremble and shake, Niki recognizes one thing. Dream is signing.
Oh. It looks like Technoblade forgot to mention one thing.
“Oh!” She says quickly, tucking her book into her chest. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know sign language.”
Dream, from the table, raises a brow at her. He raises his hands, signing what Niki can only assume is: you don’t know sign?
“I always meant to learn, but the only people who use it actively on the server are Callahan and….”
Me. Niki can guess that one well enough.
“Yes… you. I’m sorry.”
Dream waves his hand dismissively. He gestures for a pen, which Niki retrieves without much hesitance. She may not like Dream, but she still needs to communicate with him if this day even has a chance at going well. She places the pen and small pad of paper on the table, stepping back quickly. Dream lets out a long breath before beginning to write.
I’ll show you some stuff I probably won’t be able to translate in the moment, Dream writes. Writing looks a little more challenging with the ever-present tremor in Dream’s hands and his shortened finger, but he makes do. He writes down a few simple words: can’t, stop, no, sorry, and shows the signs for each of them. Niki furrows her brow.
“These are all negative responses. What about… ‘yes’?”
Dream struggles to meet Niki’s eyes for a second, looking away almost immediately. He seems borderline uncomfortable. Slowly, he curls his hand into a fist, nodding it forward twice.
“Yes?” Niki asks in conformation.
Yes.
Niki nods, trying to commit this information, like everything else dumped on her today, to memory. Dream drops the pen after that, cradling his hands in his lap. They certainly… don’t stop shaking. Hm. Niki would ask about it, but she doesn’t really want to poke at any boundaries. Dream fiddles with his fingers, beginning to bounce his leg.
“Em-” Niki starts, catching Dream’s attention and picking at the back of her neck awkwardly. “Techno told me that you should probably eat today, right? I made food a few hours ago, but I can make something for you or….”
Dream waves his hands, furiously shaking his head. He scribbles down variants of I’m not hungry, and you don’t have to, which Niki isn’t given a chance to object to. Dream carefully gets up, grabbing the notepad beside him and pushing past Niki. He makes his way over to the couch, plopping himself down and sighing. Niki watches him, unsure of what entirely to do. She knows what Techno told her, but there was only so much that was truly in her power. It didn’t help how dismissive Dream appeared to be with her attempts at offering him food.
This Dream is… new, to say the least. She didn’t know the old Dream outside of what she heard from her peers, but she especially doesn’t know this Dream. Is he better? Does he know that what he’s done is bad? Terrible? Unforgivable, even? Does he regret it at all, or does he just think he’s a victim in all of this?
It takes two more attempts at getting Dream to eat before Niki’s patience starts running a little slim. She’s never had the time to talk to Dream before, but right now, he just seems nothing more than tired. He looks fine, if not a little skinny, maybe a little quiet. For all Niki knows, this could be a ploy, a trick, to live the high life off of Techno’s dedicated care and then run off into the woods. Niki feels a little nasty for thinking this, but what if Dream is just faking this all? What if he’s just playing it up for show and sympathy? To get free protection while his next plan brews quietly in the background? She’s heard about the lengths Dream was willing to go to in the past; what would make this different? She knows how convincing an actor Dream can be, and dedication to a part can take someone a long way.
Well… Now is as good of a time as ever to get a few things off her chest, Niki supposes. If Dream isn’t faking, he’ll have some kind of genuine reaction, and if he is, then, well… Niki can keep her friends from getting used again. It’s a win-win, really.
“You know, you’re very lucky Techno decided to care for you so much,” she says from the kitchen because the distance makes her feel safer. “He didn’t have to do all of this, you know? It’d certainly be easier for him to have ignored your favor. I would’ve.”
From behind, Niki hears a sharp intake of breath, but no objections come. Niki looks behind her at Dream, still sitting on the couch, wide-eyed and staring at her. He swallows, eyes darting to the side like he’s sorting through his thoughts. He gestures at Niki, a sort of go-on movement, so she turns around and continues. “Things like Wilbur, Doomsday, the festival, you played a role in all of those, you know? You’ve been the authority figure of the server for so long. You-- you had control over exile and Tommy and… Everything you’ve done, it’s hurt all of us. It’s- it’s hurt me, and I-”
There’s a loud, distinct sniffle behind Niki. Slowly, she turns to look behind her, finding Dream curled up on the couch. He brings his knees up to his chest, pressing tightly into himself. He’s looking to the side, almost shameful. His shoulders are shaking.
“...Dream?” Niki asks. Maybe this is the genuine reaction she’s looking for.
Dream nods sharply. He looks up, meeting Niki’s eyes, his own glassy and red and wet. His eyes fill with tears, so he quickly hides his face again, pressing it into the arm wrapped around his knee. It feels like he’s forcing himself to keep his gaze on Niki, and that information tastes a little bitter going down Niki’s throat. He lifts his head just enough to meet Niki’s eyes again, folding his hand into a half square and pressing it to his temple. Niki doesn’t know the sign, but she doesn’t need to.
I know, he says. I know.
Dream takes a shuddering breath, fingers dancing across the parts of the body he’s gripping. They speed up and slow down as he filters his thoughts, eventually coming to a standstill. He grabs his notepad with trembling hands, scribbling down something hastily, ripping out the paper, and holding it out for Niki while hiding himself. Nervously, Niki steps forward because the memory of powerful and quick and ruthless Dream has never left her, even when presented with the sight of the trembling man before her.
I know, the paper says. I want to listen. But not today. I can’t today.
Niki swallows. She looks at Dream, trembling and crumbling in on himself, and nods. “Okay,” she says. “I understand. I… I’m sorry. That was out of line, I...”
Dream nods quickly and sharply. His fingers tap quickly against his leg. Niki feels awkward, standing in front of Dream like this as he fidgets and shuffles. She puts a little distance between the two of them, retreating back to the kitchen. The house is plunged into a small period of unrelenting silence. Niki wished that she knew at least a little sign because maybe things wouldn’t be so awkward. Dream doesn’t look all too thrilled to be talking with her either way, though, so perhaps it was wishful thinking. He’s running a hand through his hair, pausing to tug on the long strands every few seconds.
Niki frowns. Has Techno told her anything about how to handle something like this? Sorting through her memory quickly tells Niki that, no, Techno hadn’t spilled anything helpful for a time like this. He’d asked Niki to make sure Dream didn’t do anything to himself, but certainly, he wasn’t that much of a danger to his own wellbeing, right? Techno had mentioned some other useful things, but he seems to have forgotten some details Niki would’ve loved to have. She sighs.
Niki supposes that the best she can do right now is swallow her words and try to be helpfully polite. To, in kinder words, simply watch Dream. She tried to ask him about some things here or there but mostly ended up talking at Dream instead of with him. That’s okay, Niki didn’t mind. She didn’t really go into today expecting some sort of riveting conversation, and the one she’d already tried to have ended oh-so-splendidly.
Suddenly, the sound of Dream’s stomach growling caught her attention. Niki looked back from her chunk of dough that she’d started kneading to fill the silence at Dream, who was caught like a deer in headlights. He looked to her quickly before starting off on what Niki thinks is a garbled bundle of excuses about how he wasn’t hungry again. Niki laughs kindly, making Dream’s hands pause mid-air.
“I’ll go get you an apple or something,” she says, running her hands under the sink to wash off the extra flour. “Techno showed me where everything was before you woke up. I’ll be back in just a second. Stay put, okay?”
Dream nods, hiding his face and giving a small thumbs up. The trip downstairs is quick, only interrupted by a skulk of three foxes Techno apparently kept in his basement. The box with cooled fruit was propped up, probably to keep the foxes out of it, Niki mused, if the scratch marks on the side were anything to go off of. Dream was sitting in virtually the exact same position Niki had left him in, nervously glancing at her when she approached. At least he’s good at following directions, Niki noted. She held out the apple, waited a long few seconds for Dream to take it, then set it on the table next to him. Dream’s eyes watched her with rapt attention, almost like he was afraid she was suddenly going to turn around and attack him.
After that little experience, Niki went back to kneading dough as pleasantly as she could. She couldn’t explain the small smile that crept onto her lips when the inevitable crunch of an apple being eaten hit her ears after minutes of silence. Niki chalks it up to the fact that Techno would be happy that Dream ate and tries to move on from it as passively as she can.
Shuffling fills the corners of the house between the clanging of various pans and Niki’s humming. Dream had come a little closer, sitting stiffly at the counter and watching Niki work after throwing his apple core into Carl’s stable from the window. He keeps the notepad close to him, bouncing the pen back and forth against the solid surface. Niki greets him and starts explaining what she’s doing, to which Dream nods along. She tries to suggest Dream join the baking whenever she can, moving pans around and into the sink when they’ve become dirty. Dream’s eyes follow her hands as she gestures around, eyebrows twitching downward every few seconds. Every semi-loud sound makes his eyes blink in surprise and something else Niki can’t quite place. It goes on like this for about half an hour, with various levels of participation coming from Dream.
Eventually, he begins to look more and more lost in thought, distracted, even borderline frustrated, eventually dropping his pen roughly and tapping his pointer finger against the counter. His other hand goes to his hair, pulling, as a small whimper tumbled into the air. Dream’s nail makes a quick tap, tap, tap that sounds borderline panicky, only increasing in speed. His shoulders are tense, and because Niki is so used to providing comfort to those unscarred by touch, she reached out for his shoulder.
Dream jerks away as soon as her hand meets his shoulder, a small, distressed noise leaving his throat. He stumbles onto shaky legs, looking almost as if Niki burned him. Niki, in return, pulled her hand back to her chest. Dream holds up a finger, a small give me a moment, before distancing himself. He hangs his head and holds up his hands, shaking them out almost violently as he paces the living room.
“Dream?” Niki begins to ask, watching the man pace and shake his hands. What was he doing? What was going on?
Her thoughts are abruptly cut off by a sharp yelp when Dream suddenly turns and pushes over a chair. This is still Dream at the end of the day, and once upon a time, he was terrifying and dangerous. Niki clamps her hands down over her mouth to keep any further sound from escaping when it makes Dream flinch. His breath picks up in shakiness and speed until a loud crash makes the house go silent.
Dream’s head whips around, finding a pile of shattered glass on the floor next to the chair he flipped over and the table it apparently took on its way down. He stares at it for a good, long second, the breath stolen from his lungs. A quick, strangled sob leaves Dream’s mouth as he drops to his knees, scrambling for the glass pieces. Hot, fat tears fill the corners of Dream’s eyes. His hands are shaking so much it makes the glass pieces he picks up clink against each other. Almost desperately, Dream tries to wipe away the tears, and Techno’s worry about Dream hurting himself suddenly becomes much more apparent as the world catches up to Niki.
“Oh- Dream, no, we- let’s not-” Niki drops to her knees beside Dream, holding her hands out gently. “Let’s not do that, okay? You’ve got glass in your hands.”
Dream doesn’t stop. The tears and sobs only spilling harder and faster. Niki doesn’t think this can get any worse, so she slowly puts her hand over Dream’s, grasping it and pulling it away gently. There’s no resistance, even as Dream digs his chin into his chest. Pricks of blood are already forming on scratches left on Dream’s cheeks from the glass, quickly mixing with tears. Dream starts signing something frantically, and Niki doesn’t know what he’s saying, but, oh, she wishes she did.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Niki tries. “Are you worried Techno will be angry?”
Dream nods, choking on another sob.
“I’m sure he won’t be!” Niki presents her hands, cupped, to Dream again. “He really cares about you, alright? He won’t be mad over a broken cup, okay?”
Dream makes a strangled sound that almost sounds like a “but” as he snaps his head up to face Niki.
“No. No buts.” Niki pushes her hands forward pointedly. “I’ll clean up the glass, okay? I think you should go lay down on your bed and rest. Calm down a little, alright? I’m supposed to be here to help, and Techno would be upset if you hurt yourself. I’ll let you know when everything’s been taken care of.”
Shakily, Dream brings his free hand up to his face, fingers touching the newly formed cuts as his lips trace Niki’s words. His eyes go wide, pressing down on the tiny bubbles of blood forming. He drops the glass into Niki’s hands, staggering up with a sharp breath. He mutters something too faint for Niki to catch before disappearing into his room. Niki picks up the rest of the glass, her hands thankfully much steadier than Dream’s own despite what just happened. Periodically, she glances up to Dream’s room, watching, waiting.
She isn’t quite sure what she’s waiting for, maybe for him to come bursting out, angry at being coddled, or perhaps for him to come slinking back with shaky hands and hot tears and try to help again. Whatever it is, it never comes.
Carefully, Niki spends a few minutes making sure no shards had spread out over the house or that she misses any finite pieces. After her searches come back clean, Niki moves to the knocked-over furniture. She rights the table and chair Dream had knocked over, huffing out a small sigh of relief. The living room was clean again, thankfully. She hopes Techno won’t be mad. That would just make her look bad when Dream was so clearly distressed over the whole ordeal.
At the thought of Dream, Niki makes her way over to his room. She knocks, the wood giving way and opening up into the small room. Dream lays on his bed, curled up into a ball, and appears to be fast asleep. The blankets look almost deliberately untouched around him. Niki steps into the dark room, noting the closed blinds on his window. Everything is kept down to nearly a depressing minimum, the only trace of life in the room being the messy, yet unmoved, sheets and a single flowerpot laying on a chest.
It would be better to let him sleep, Niki thinks. The room is kept cold, and Niki doesn’t want Dream to get sick, so she decides to drape the untouched sheets over Dream’s sleeping form. As she pulls up the blankets around the sleeping body, though, Dreams’ eyes flutter open, and his body tenses. He turns his head to watch her silently.
“I’ve cleaned up the glass, so the living room is good to be in again,” Niki offers. She pulls her hands away, crouching down so she doesn’t loom over Dream. “I was going to let you sleep; sorry for waking you.”
Dream shrugs, not really looking like he had been sleeping in the first place. He sits up, glancing at the sheets pooling around him. Dream glances around, scrubbing at his face and swinging his legs over the side of his bed. Despite Niki’s protests, he gets up and shuffles his way into the living room. His eyes fall on the now empty space on the table, sucking in a soft, shuddering breath. Niki comes to stand beside him.
“Hey,” she says. “It’s okay. I’m not angry, and they won’t be either, okay?”
Dream’s eyes flit from the table down to Niki. His body, slouched forward, leans a little closer to her as he nods silently. He looks back to the room, eyes squinting. He shoves his hands in his pockets and produces the pen and paper he’d kept on him; scribbling down, can you close the blinds? Niki smiles. She needs to encourage him to ask for things, too.
“Sure.”
Dream makes a home for himself on the couch. He eyes Niki’s book and they make idle chatter over it, Niki sitting across from him in the chair. They slide the notepad between each other on the table, both patiently waiting for the other to read or write before responding. Dream apologizes for the outburst. He said that he was feeling overwhelmed and hasn’t had to deal with something like that in a long time. The apology was accepted. Niki even manages to get a small laugh out of Dream, one that tugs gently on his throat and makes his chest stutter. It’s nice to see Dream’s smile, the way it cracks his face as he chuckles to himself. Somehow, it’s the most pride she’s felt in a while.
When Niki gets up to make herself some food, Dream takes her up on the offer to eat together. The list Techno left with what Dream could eat suddenly became very useful when preparing dinner. He doesn’t eat much and apologizes about it, for the hassle he must be causing, but it was what Niki was expecting anyway. Dream goes to sleep soon after that, pausing at his door and sending a quick, earnest thank you to Niki. She smiles.
“You’re welcome, Dream.”
Techno wasn’t mad, and neither was Phil. They seemed more focused on the fact that Dream actually ate a decently sized meal for the first time that week than anything else. Dream, who was hovering in the back, made sure to send Niki off with a little wave.
If she feels a little protective over him during the next Syndicate meeting, that was only her business. If she spoke in a hushed tone and kept an eye on him so he wouldn’t get into trouble, it was just general caution mixed with a bit of care. When she brought the loaves of bread with her on a visit, they were for Techno, Phil, and Dream, but she couldn’t deny the tiny bit of excitement that bloomed in her chest when Phil suggested Dream learn how to bake to help with tremors and outbursts.
If she let Dream into her stash or secret recipes for pies and bread, it stayed between them. Dream promised to keep them secret, and Niki didn’t doubt him. He smiled at her one day, growing nicely into the freckles that had started to speckle his skin, while his third batch of experimental dough was baking. Niki couldn’t help but smile back.
#my posts!#my writing!#c!dream positive#c!dream sympathetic#dreblr#dream#unintentional self harm#tw self harm#tw trauma#tw torture#tw abuse#tw panic attack#tw overstimulation#niki nihachu fanfic#dreamwastaken fanfic#c!nikki#c!dream#dsmp fic#dream smp fic#theyre gonna be such good friends your honor#wait does tumblr still do that thing where they don't show posts with links in them
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Top 25 Larry Fics of 2020
h 2020 was HELLISH. So thank you to all the writers, and I mean ALL of them, who kept us occupied as the world continues to burn.
You may be familiar with these lists:
Top 25 Larry fics of 2016
Top 25 Larry fics of 2017
Top 25 Larry fics of 2018
Top 25 Larry fics of 2019
We’re going on our 5th year!! As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2020 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out!
25.) a trail of honey through it all by @yvesaintlourent (27k)
The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.
Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.
24.) even the best laid plans by @falsegoodnight (25k)
“Anyways,” Louis stresses, narrowing his eyes, “just let me say it and then rate how terrible of an idea it is on a scale from one to ten.”
“Alright,” Zayn agrees, sitting up expectantly.
“I want to ask Harry Styles to take my virginity,” Louis blurts, holding his hands out for emphasis.
The way Zayn’s eyes bulge is almost comical. “Negative infinity,” he says, voice choked. “Negative infinity times negative infinity.”
“Technically, a negative times a negative is -”
“Really negative infinity,” Zayn corrects himself, shaking his head wildly. “Louis, what the fuck?”
-
Or, Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.
23.) A Distant Hazy Light by @greenfeelings (76k)
Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.
Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.
22.) Ghost Note Symphony by whoknows (96k)
Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.
It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.
That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.
21.) Until by @allwaswell16 (38k)
Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.
20.) Strangers in Love by sweetums (42k)
Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.
-
Prompt 51: An amnesia fic where louis and harry were enemies to lovers but after an accident, louis only remembers those memories that him and harry hated each other. now harry has to fix it. I think something like this less dark and less angsty compared to other amnesia fics and it could be funny
19.) A Long Way From The Playground by Pink_Sunsets (170k)
One Direction is broken up. They broke up five years ago. That should be the end of the story, right?
Harry is finished with One Direction. He now has a new life, one with two kids and a successful solo career. And he’s happy.
But a call one night from management flips Harry’s whole new life upside down, and he’s forced to face the life he had left behind.
As well as a certain blue eyed man who had left him behind.
18.) my love’s not simple (it’s fragile) by @falsegoodnight (27k)
“Can I take you out tomorrow?” he asks. “My shift ends at 7 but we can go for dinner at 8.”
Louis is silent for a few seconds and then, “Like… on a date?”
Harry swallows thickly. He hasn’t done this in years, hasn’t ever wanted to. “Yeah.”
He’s worried he’s misread things but then Louis raises his head to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Yeah,” he says easily. “Sure.”
Tension leaves his body swiftly. “Are you sure?” asks Harry. “I know we’re both so busy but I can’t not try with you, Lou.”
“Neither can I,” says Louis. “I think we can figure it out. I care about you a lot Harry. We’ve known each other for a week, but I already like you so much.”
-
Or Harry's new job is threatened by his impending rut. Desperate for a solution, he allows Niall to introduce him to Louis, an omega whose heat begins the same day. They click.
17.) Cocaine for Breakfast by @harryeatsburger (309k)
“It’s an easy job.” He continues, as if Louis wants to listen. “Like I said, a few trips. Parties, students, nothing dramatic.”
Louis gazes over to Harry. He’s looking thoughtful now, eyes on the green like he’s talking more to himself than Louis.
“Clubbing, drinks. Whatever, the business is just a side thing.”
That’s not how Louis remembers it to be, “You lying?” He honestly can’t tell.
Harry shakes his head slowly, meeting Louis' eyes.
“No,” He answers almost toneless. Harry clears his throat, “I won’t put you in any dangerous situation.” His voice is sincere, Louis can tell he means it, his jade green eyes glinting with truth.
or, - Louis Tomlinson is a drug addict, sent away from his beloved party-scene to recover. There, he discovers that small towns have just as much access to drugs as London did, plus something even better that he just can't get enough of. That something is a boy with green eyes and bouncy curls named Harry Styles. -
16.) Tastes like Strawberries by @sadaveniren (4k)
I’m stressed. I’m nesting and demand cuddles. Come over
Harry frowned and double checked who the text was from. Yup, it still said Louis - Grad, which meant it was from Louis from his grad school.
aka Louis texts Harry by mistake. It works out
15.) the way the storm blows by @rbbsbb (21k)
Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.
That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.
Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.
Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.
14.) bruise you like a peach by @falsegoodnight (40k)
There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.
The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.
His name is Louis Tomlinson.
13.) Watching The World Fall by whoknows (11k)
This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.
“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”
It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.
“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.
“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”
12.) Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 (38k)
Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.
The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.
Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.
11.) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes by @purpledandeli0n (85k)
His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.
His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."
•
Pirate AU
10.) Canyon Moon by @eeveelou (40k)
For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.
Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.
An A/B/O Lion King AU
9.) We Both Got Nothing to Hide by lovelarry10 (43k)
“Talk to me, Lou.”
“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, knowing he genuinely couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit to what he was doing. “Don’t ask me to say it, because I can’t.”
“Then… I’ll try and guess. You’ve… got some stuff of Harry’s. Something of his to make it smell like him?”
Louis just nodded, eyes fixated on the floor. This was humiliating, but he knew Zayn wouldn’t stop until he found out what was going on.
“Okay. Like… a blanket, or a comforter or something?”
“Kind of…”
//
Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.
8.) sleeping on our problems by @falsegoodnight (67k)
I’m in love with you, Louis thinks. He feels empty, weighed down by his sadness and the loss of Harry inside him just moments ago before his knot finally went down.
There’s moments where he’s sure Harry feels the same. Like now, when he’s gazing down at Louis with so much adoration and tenderness. It’s like they’re both on the cusp of something more, but neither of them ever say a word.
His confession is on the tip of his tongue ready to slide out like honey, and yet he remains silent. They both do, looking at each other and recognizing the reluctance mirrored in each other’s eyes. It’s then that Louis realizes they’re both scared.
-
Or Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.
7.) like it’s a game by @soldouthaz (32k)
there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.
and louis.
6.) before we knew by @falsegoodnight (39k)
“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”
Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.
It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.
He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.
He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.
-
Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.
5.) Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo (114k)
Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.
Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.
Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.
Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?
4.) You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by @harryrainbows (95k)
Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.
Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.
One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.
Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.
3.) The Space Between by @lads-laddylads (39k)
Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.
Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.
2.) Nothing But You On My Mind by @absoloutenonsense (83k)
Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.
1.) Collision by @tequiladimples (224k)
Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.
(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)
#larry#larry stylinson#larry fic rec#harry styles#louis tomlinson#fic rec#one direction#1d#one direction fic rec#larry fan fiction#updated because I'm an idiot and added a zarry fic
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Forgotten Fairytale
Part 3
Request: Yes or No
~
“We have two announcements today. First, we have a new student, (Y/N). As some of you may know, (Y/N) is a dragon-vampire hybrid and I expect each and everyone of you to treat him with respect. To whom it may concern, he is not our next monster. We’ve recently encountered a Night Hag.” Alaric announced to the remaining student body that had chosen not to leave. You kept your arms crossed, making eye contact with Hope. You gave her a triumphant smirk and got an eye roll in return.
“A Night Hag is a malevolent spirit trapped on the astral plane that can only interact with us through dreams. In this case, nightmares.” Alaric explained, murmurs spreading through the students.
“So, like, Freddy Kruger?”
“Well, in the sense that what happens to you in your dreams seems to happen to you in real life, yes. But, the good news is we’re safe, so long as we stay awake.” Alaric explained, nodding to the questions. He noticed tension rise and cleared his throat.
“We’ve lined up more evacuation shuttles. They should be running all afternoon, so please, for those who don’t want to stay and fight, take advantage of them.” Alaric licked his lips. You gave a small snort, biting your bottom lip. Ryan had mentioned a possible run in with monsters but he seemed confident in your abilities to protect yourself. Once you had your father back, you’d make sure he faced some monsters of his own. You stood once Alaric dismissed everyone, noticing him motion for you to come over. With a deep sigh, you walked towards the stage he was on.
“I’ve got your classes sorted out. You’ll be taking typical high school courses, plus some of the supernatural courses we typically give to everyone. You’ll have some vampire classes and finally, a one-on-one with Dorian to talk about dragons. Dorian insisted on it. I would like you to speak with Emma, she’s one of our teachers and also the counselor for those who need one.” Alaric explained, handing you a paper. You gave it a once over before looking up at him.
“And why would I need to speak with a counselor? I’m perfectly fine.”
“Considering you walked out on Dorian after a mention of your father, I don’t think you’re fine.” Alaric gave a tight lipped smile, patting your arm as he walked by. You blew a raspberry, looking back down at the paper.
“Oh, and by the way, these uniforms are horrendous.” You called to him, stepping off the stage and making brief eye contact with Hope as she spoke to Landon.
“I have to agree with you on the uniforms being horrendous. We look like preppy golf kids.” You looked at the guy walking beside you.
“All we’re missing are the pants and the golf course.” You grinned, chuckling as the guy nodded and laughed along.
“I’m Kaleb, by the way. I’m a vampire, so I guess that means I’ll be seeing you around.” Kaleb gave a grin. You hummed, looking forward.
“Man, you and those other dudes got lucky. You don’t have to take these exams.”
“But, we do have to deal with the bullshit this school brings.” You stopped by a water fountain, leaning down and drinking from it. Kaleb leaned against the wall, arms crossing.
“Actually, I think that Landon guy was the one who brought the monsters with him. Things went to shit when he got here and-”
“It’s not Landons fault. The knife had been at this school for god knows how long.” You leaned up, wiping your mouth as your gaze fell on Rafael.
“Well, like I said, we gotta deal with the bullshit the school brings.”
“And to do that, we have to be a team. We can’t insult or push each other away.” Rafael said, glancing between you and Kaleb. You let out a small snort, grinning as you shook your head.
“Doesn’t that go against your nature? That’s all mutts know how to do. That and throw temper tantrums.” Kaleb snickered at your words. Rafael sighed, eyes shutting briefly in an attempt to stay calm and relaxed.
“You don’t have to worry about me, puppy. I can be a good teammate as long as you stay out of my way. Same goes for you.” You glanced at Kaleb before turning around and walking away. You walked to your first class, stepping inside and getting ready for a boring day of school.
~~~~~~~~~~
You ran your fingers over the books on the shelves, grabbing one and pulling it out of the shelf. You stepped out of the library and found a nice cushion seat, opening the book and flipping through the pages. You stopped on the one you had been looking for.
Klaus Mikaelson: The Great Evil
Your eyes swept over the writing, searching for any mention of Hope. She was powerful but she hadn’t become a full tribrid yet. You paused, hearing footsteps coming from the hallway along with someone humming softly.
“Dr. Saltzman!”
“”Dr. Saltzman, I have changed my mind. I’ve decided to take you up on your offer and get the hell out with every other sane person here.””
“No, actually, I took your advice and I stayed busy, and I think I found something.” You lifted your head at Landon’s words, hearing their footsteps head back down the hall. You stood up from your seat, turning your head and watching them turn a corner. You looked down at the book in your hands, gently biting your bottom lip.
“I definitely didn’t sign up for this… but I might as well enjoy the ride.” You looked back up, heading down the hall and entering the small library where Landon, Hope, and Alaric were at. You leaned against the railing, watching them speak.
“Why would a monster need to disguise itself as another monster? The Oneiroi sounds freaky enough.” Hope said, glancing between Landon and Alaric.
“Because if we knew what it actually was..”
“We’d know how to stop it.” Alaric finished for him, nodding.
“Hope, kiss him for me.” Alaric said, turning and heading towards the stairs. He looked up, noticing you. He slowed down, head tilting.
“Need something, (Y/N)?” Alaric asked, heading up the stairs. You shook your head, fingers drumming against the book.
“Just eavesdropping.” You shrugged. Alaric let out a small laugh, nodding as he walked by.
“Don’t think you’re off my radar, (Y/N).” Hope called, arms crossing as she cocked a brow at you.
“I’m honored you care so much about me, Red. It’s real sweet, though I think you should be more invested in your boytoy. Keep your eye on this one, Discount Jughead. She seems to have… a wandering eye. You shouldn’t forget who her mother was in love with.” You gave them a wink, turning around. You stepped towards a bookshelf, sliding the book into the shelf.
“What about your family? What were they like?” Hope asked, approaching the stairs. You turned to look at her.
“My mother gave my father a gift and then she left. At least she didn’t die because of me.” You leaned forward slightly as she got closer. Hope stopped a few feet from you, jaw clenching.
“You know nothing about me.”
“I could say the same, Red. I might’ve been a dick when I was younger but atleast I never tried to kill someone who loves me and raised me. You had a mother who was invested in you and loved you. It would’ve never crossed my mind to hurt my father, no matter how pissed I was.” You sneered, watching her facade begin to crumble. Hope remained silent for a few passing minutes.
“We should probably tell the others about our new discovery.” Landon piped up softly. Hope turned her head towards him, nodding.
“Yeah, I.. I have a plan.” Hope breathed out, looking back at you.
“Making enemies on your first day is the stupidest idea you’ve probably come up with.” Hope said, brushing past you. Landon slowly walked up the stairs, awkwardly approaching you.
“Hope is a.. She’s a good person-”
“You don’t have to defend her when she’s not around, My Chemical Romance.” You stared at him, giving a small eye roll.
“Why are you such a dick?”
“Well, my dad told me my mom was a bit of a bitch. I probably got it from her.” You shrugged, turning around and leaving the library. You heard Landon catch up with you.
“I was in the foster system for most of my life. I can understand some of your feelings regarding not knowing your mom and-”
“Listen, Gerard Way, I’m not interested in being your friend. I’ve been taught and shown that humans are the least trustworthy creatures on this planet. It’s better to be alone than to trust a human. They’re like chihuahuas. They think they’re at the top when they’re actually at the bottom and I’d rather not have my life in the hands of one.” You looked at him.
“Fair comparison.” Landon mumbled. “But, some humans are good and they mean well-”
“We can have this conversation after I take a nap.” You entered the lounge area where Hope had gathered the rest of the boys. Hope explained that the Night Hag was actually an Oneiroi.
“I know it sounds bad, but now that we know what the creature is, we can fight it.”
“How the hell are we supposed to kill a dream demon?”
“Leave that to me. But since I can’t fall asleep without compromising the location of the urn, I need someone else to pull it out of the dream plane and into our waking reality.” Hope explained, looking over everyone.
“So, Freddy Krueger, like I said.” Another vampire, MG, pointed out.
“And how the hell are we supposed to do that?” Rafael asked, looking back at Hope.
“By entering the dream plane, getting a hold of it, and waking yourself up.” You answered, shrugging lightly.
“Just like in the movies.” MG nodded in agreement to your response. Kaleb hummed, nodding.
“Is it too late to get on the evacuation bus?” Kaleb asked, tilting his head as you snorted. Hope gave a sympathetic look.
“No. I mean, I’m not gonna ask all of you to stay for this, it has to be your choice.” Hope said, silence following. Landon quickly stood up.
“I’m not leaving unless Hope does.” Landon said. Hope didn’t seem exactly thrilled as she gave a small hum. She looked at Rafael, brows raised in question.
“I’m not leaving Landon behind.”
“You two are very codependent.” You mumbled, hearing Kaleb snicker and nod.
“I’m a founding member of the Super Squad-”
“The fuck is a ‘Super Squad’?”
“-So I can’t bail.” MG stood up from his seat with a supporting smile. The four of them turned towards you and Kaleb.
“Y’all are gonna get yourselves killed.” Kaleb said, looking at Hope.
“But if MG stays, I stay.” He added with a sigh, looking at you.
“This reeks of drama and chaos so, I’m definitely staying and watching this go down.” You grinned, shrugging lightly. “But I’m not gonna be a member of this.. ‘Super Squad’ shit you have going on.”
“In that case, it’s naptime.” Hope said, giving a small nod.
“I’ll go speak with Dr. Saltzman. Get set up in the gym. Bring blankets, pillows, and anything else that might help you fall asleep.” Hope walked past them and Landon quickly followed.
“Codependency is a big problem here, huh?” You shook your head, glancing at Kaleb. You grabbed one of the pillows off the couch and turned, heading towards the gym. You watched the others bring the necessary stuff, Hope and Landon entering while deep in what seemed like an argument.
“You are gonna sleep with us, right?” Kaleb asked, noticing you hadn't made a small bed like they had.
“No.” You shook your head, arms crossing.
“What do you mean, no?” Landon frowned, brows furrowing.
“You don’t want to see me wake up from a nightmare. Accidental shifting and accidental arson isn’t pretty.” You shrugged lightly. Hope hummed.
“We don’t need a confused dragon causing an accident.” Hope looked at the rest of the guys. They lied down in a circle, slowly falling asleep one by one. Hope stepped towards you, closely watching each of them.
“It was a shit move to bring up your mom. I’ve been on edge since dad disappeared.” You said quietly, ignoring the surprised look Hope gave you.
“Sorry for that.” You walked away from her, careful to be quiet so as to not wake them up. You noticed each of the boys becoming more twitchy, faces contorted in confusion or fear as the hours began to pass.
“How come you aren’t tired?” Hope asked softly.
“You think I could sleep with my only family gone?” You looked at her with raised brows. Hope nodded, looking down to see that Rafael, MG, and Kaleb had stopped twitching as much.
“It’s almost time.” Hope turned, quickly leaving the gym. You gently toyed with your necklace, licking your lips and turning to face the boys when they all suddenly awoke. They stood and began talking all at once, making you huff in annoyance.
“Calm down, Hope’s handling it.”
“What? What the hell-” Landon was cut off by Oneiroi and Hope crashing through one of the doors. Hope quickly got up, blowing some hair out of her face.
“Stay back, I got this.” She called, running forward and tackling the demon before promptly getting choked.
“Yeah, she’s totally got this.” You mumbled, picking up two wooden pieces that had belonged to the now broken doors. You approached her, stabbing the pieces through the demons’ eyes. Hope let out a gasp for breath as the demon disappeared into a cloud.
“Thank you.” She coughed, rubbing her throat.
“Next time, be prepared.” You stood, letting Landon help her up as Alaric rushed in with his crossbow. You tossed the wood aside, turning and walking past Alaric. You thought back on the urn and Hope mentioning she knew where it was. Befriending her to find it would be a problem in itself.
“(Y/N)!” Alaric called after you, quickly jogging after you. You turned to face him, raising a brow.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for helping Hope. How’d you know how to kill it?” Alaric asked.
“Like I said, dragons don’t just horde inanimate objects. I like to read as a pastime and most of the time, the books have to do with the supernatural.” You answered, shrugging lightly. Alaric nodded, reaching out and gently touching your arm.
“Thank you.. I’m sure Hope appreciates it.” Alaric gave a small smile. You nodded, licking your lips as Alaric turned and went to check on everyone. He passed by Hope who gave him a small smile and nod. She turned her head to look at you, arms gently wrapping around herself. She slowly approached you, gaze on the ground.
“I know you could’ve just let me get hurt but.. Thank you for helping me. I know we got off on a terrible foot so, I hope we can be a bit more civil with each other.”
“We’ll see.”
#x reader#x you#x y/n#x male reader#x male!reader#legacies x reader#legacies#legacies x y/n#legacies x you#legacies x male reader#hope mikaelson#kaleb hawkins#milton greasley#landon kirby#alaric saltzman#rafael waithe#x dragon reader
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Avery the Fae/Reader, Lemon
You don’t dress up for Halloween.
Not your fault, though, really, because your professors show no mercy for holidays, especially not ones that don’t land them a day off. Classes go on as usual, and so you wake up the latest you can without risking a tardy and go off in the comfortable clothes you slept in. Except for some cat ears and one superman, everything is perfectly normal, and the day passes like almost every other, save for a ‘spooky drink’ coupon at the local cafe.
I probably don’t even need a costume, anyways, you think as you catch your reflection when passing those special mirror-like windows on one of the campus’ buildings. Frankly, you look like you crawled out of hell itself. Dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep, hair all askew and uncooperative, mouth in a permanent stressed line.
A zombie, probably, you decide, taking a sip of that hot caffeinated mess you ordered from the cafe. A hot zombie, for sure, but a zombie no less. A part of you wants to skip your next class and take a nap, but you’ve already used up your one absence, and you aren’t in a position to risk your grade for sleep. No rest for the wicked, right? Right. Everything else goes as smoothly as can be expected for being sleep deprived, and the night class seems to drag on for a fully stretched eternity, but you are finally free to go home and do your five hours of homework. Maybe if you’re lucky, you can squeeze in two or three hours of sleep.
It’s because you’re tired, you think, stopping for a hot minute when you realize that you’re lost. You hadn’t been paying attention to campus’ many twists and turns in its paths, and so you must have wandered away from the buildings and onto the forest trail that hugs the dorms, except there’s no cement beneath your feet. Not even a dirt trail marks a way out, and you take a full moment to come to terms with being lost, on your own damn campus, no less. You aren’t any kind of simpering pansy, so you turn around and begin to retrace your steps. Which doesn’t work, unfortunately, because after a couple of minutes of walking, there’s nothing to suggest that you’re only a couple of paces from civilization.
Except a drum beat, behind you. It’s faint, probably a half-mile away, but it’s the closest thing you have to a way back, especially since your phone can’t seem to pick up any signal. Maybe one of the school’s many bands are practicing? Right, you’re just going to stumble out into the football field, twigs in your hair, looking very much like you’ve gotten into a fist-fight with the entire forest…
And… Not a band, you realize, stepping into a clearing, but a party.
A costume party, too, by the looks of it, with everyone in soft, flittery clothing and fitted masks. Interesting how everyone seems to be on the same page with the dress code, there’s usually that one dick who shows up in a hotdog suit, regardless of any previous agreements. Elegant is the word you’re looking for, you decide, running into something tall and solider, correction: running into someone tall and solid.
“Oh, hey, sorry,” you apologize, shifting your weight on either foot, “I’m a little lost.”
“I think that you are right where you want to be,” your stranger says, mouth turning up into a strange, fanged smile. His black mask is trimmed with gold, and it doesn’t seem like he’s costuming as anything specific; rather, it appears to be just for anonymity.
“I think I really want to be in bed,” you say, trying to share a mutual we’re in college and want to die of exhaustion moment, but he doesn’t respond with the same energy.
“Perhaps a drink of wine before you go?” He offers, holding out an actual goblet of some kind. Maybe the metal-working students pitched in? Or accepted a particular commissioned order? It looks like genuine gold, which adds to the whole aesthetic of the party.
“Uh,” don’t accept drinks you haven’t seen made, “I’m good for now, really. Just trying to get back home to study.”
“Hm,” he says, taking a good swig from the goblet he had just offered, “good question. Through the trees from whence you came, most likely.”
Of fucking course, he’s drunk and doesn’t know left from right. Great. What an excellent position you’ve put yourself in. Frustrated and confident he wouldn’t roofie himself, you snatch the goblet from his hand and down several large gulps of shockingly sweet wine, maybe a sangria? Or something sugared up to be palatable?
Swirling the goblet around, to seem sophisticated, you ask, “so is this some kind of rich person party? Like an Illuminati meeting or something?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you speak of.”
“Right.” You draw out the single syllable, landing hard on the t. LARPers, probably, but not unattractive ones. Those masks don’t hide everything, and the shape of his jaw is not something to balk at, and those lips? Not to be forward in your own brain or anything, but they’re certainly decent to look at. This has to be some kind of weird-ass club, or like a rich dumbass ritual or something, definitely not your average frat party with a variety of random drugs mixed into the mystery punch. “Do you go to school here?”
He looks down at your university sweatshirt, cocking his head slightly. “A place of learning, is it? No, I’m afraid I have not attended such an institution, but I must admit that I have been tempted.”
“Well,” you take another sip of wine, “it’s not bad, as far as universities go. With decent financial aid, too.”
“Best not to drink too much of that,” your stranger says, “it’s much stronger than it tastes, and it’s best you stay clear-headed for the evening’s festivities.”
“One cup can’t hurt,” you say, and then realize that he’s just volunteered you to join in on the fun. Which is kind of weird, you guess, but then again, you aren’t going to complain. This is a way more interesting place to spend your evening, but might as well prop your backpack underneath one of the tables, hiding it beneath the skirt of the pale white cloth. You eye the unmarked bottle that one of the party-goers holds, but set your goblet down by the expensive-looking chinaware, flexing your fingers as they begin to tingle with the warmness that comes with alcohol. “What’s the party’s theme?”
He cocks his head, as though confused.
“Like a…” you try to think of a different way to phrase it. “A topic you pick, and everyone has to adhere to it. The people here all look like they’re, like, what Victorian thought the fairies looked like or something. I think it’s the clothes.”
“We are Faeries, though,” he says, the sides of his mouth curving upwards.
“Hm,” you say, “of course you are.”
“Join me for this dance?” Your stranger asks instead of any rebuttals, holding out a hand.
You look over at the band that plays, masks of distinct animal-like features flickering in the light of the bonfire roaring in the center of the clearing, all instruments vaguely familiar, yet not. Some of them you think you’ve seen before, at maybe renaissance-themed festivals, but the others must be from some kind of distinctly obscure genre of music.
The heat from the fire seems to lick out at your fingers, or maybe it’s the alcohol, already making its way through your system, but you stare, transfixed, at the way the lyre player plucks at the strings of their instrument. The quick movement plays too much with your eyes, you barely see anything more than the blurs of fingers, and you suddenly realize that you are swaying in place.
“I don’t know how,” you say, snapping out of whatever trance you had been in.
“It’s rather simple, come here,” he takes one of your hands, shockingly not unwelcome. Perhaps the warmth of his skin against yours brings you a kind of peace that you need during this period of your life. “I will teach you.”
Your stranger is correct; the dance is fairly simple to learn, mostly because there are very few rules. Sway your hips. Let your feet bounce against the soft forest floor. Let him spin you around and around until your head almost feels light. You’ll be honest, he’s the one doing all the work, guiding you, adding more flair to your steps, one hand resting on your waist, the other weaving its fingers with yours. Now, you may not be one to go out and ballroom dance on the fly, but you would be alright admitting that this is kind of fun.
So you dance. And you dance. And you continue dancing, letting the music remove you from time and space, everything else fades away except for the thrumming drumbeat, the wind in the trees, and your partner. You don’t feel the need to gasp for air, nor do your legs give out and collapse, but you aren’t even aware of how much time has passed. You dance out your pain, your stress, and any alcohol that lingers in your system, a layer of sweat keeping your body cool in the autumn night’s air. An eternity, perhaps, a small piece of infinity shared between you and this stranger, or the briefest of moments that still yield the most intimate bit of time that two people can share.
The song ends- or perhaps, the band finally runs out of music to play. You don’t know what time it is, but you aren’t finished with the party, not yet. The stranger sets his hands on both your hips, eyes as red as the fires of hell, and offers you a promising smile, his shirt loosely clinging to his body, having lost the fancily embroidered vest at some point while dancing.
“Do you want to get out of here?” You ask, making a snap decision not to let the night go to waste.
His smile widens.
The trees are your only audience when he brings you away from the rest of the party, the moon staring over the tops of the red and yellow leaves. The chill of the night might have discouraged anyone else, but you are broiling with energy and ready to continue moving wildly to keep warm. Despite barely being out of sight, you’re already working on his clothes, trying to find velcro or snaps of a cheap costume and failing rather miserably. He seems amused with your attempts, guiding your hands to find a variation of ties and buttons. Soon enough, you have his shirt off, his pale skin gleaming in the moonlight, revealing a chest etched in dozens of tattoos, red like blood against his pale skin, though it’s too dark to make out precisely what they are.
He seems to have a destination in mind, even though you steal most of his attention with kisses and touches. Even though you are in a place you’re sure no one would bother finding you in, he still seems determined to herd your desperate body further away from the camp, until the both of you get to a clearing, free of roots strangling the ground. Jupiter and Saturn stare blankly down from their perches in the sky, the stars surrounding them twinkling, as though applauding your conquest.
“I didn’t catch your name,” you gasp after a breathless kiss.
He pauses, almost put off by the request, like he’s startled you would even ask. Before you can even regain the ability to feel nervous, he says, “Avery.”
“Avery,” you repeat, running your fingers through his hair. “That’s a nice name.”
“And what may I call you?”
Like a fool, you give up your first name without much thought, but you are too excited about where the night is going to remember what you said even a second later. It doesn’t seem to matter, though, because his mouth is against yours, and your back is on the cold, dewy grass before you even register that he pulled your legs off balance. He’s a good kisser, you think hazily, his lips traveling down from your mouth to your collarbone. His mouth is nice and hot against your skin, already sending pleasant little shivers down your spine as he works, and you find yourself grasping at the cold, dying grass of the earth in order to pull your spirit back to reality.
The insides of your belly melt as he lifts your shirt up over your breasts, and you’re quick to discard the garment as he sucks at the skin just above the hemline of your pants. He needs help with the button and the zipper, his lithe fingers struggling to figure out the mechanics, so you undo everything for him. After letting out a thankful grunt, he leans forward, pressing his lips right on your stomach, sucking hard enough to leave a red mark that may bruise in the morning.
Then he kisses the skin just above where your underwear ends, a jolting shiver pulsing through your core at the contact. When you glance down at him, the barest light emanating from the roaring bonfire only a few meters away, he seems so… focused, you think, at his task of slowly stripping the last bit of fabric away from your body. Methodically, he tugs, fingers threading through the straps at the side, his eyes glimmering in the light bleeding out from the moon herself.
Slowly, steadily, he presses his mouth where your leg and torso meet, nibbling at a bit of flesh before moving ever so slightly downwards, opening your legs and seemingly liking what he finds down there. Carefully avoiding any of your puckered, wet skin, he instead moves his lips just to the side, clearly enjoying the act of driving you to the brink of insanity. You can feel the smile he wears as he teases you further, switching over to your other thigh.
Almost impatiently, you wrap one of your legs around his shoulder, arching your back when he finally lashes his tongue out to trace the outline of your flower. A heated spark ignites through your nerves, a charge of fiery need flooding your body and into your core. He seems to enjoy the breathless whine you offered in response because he does it again, inching closer and closer to your clit.
Roughly, you tangle your fingers into his long, flowing hair, pulling him closer and begging with no words for him to stop teasing and finally give you the pleasure you need. Avery finally complies, pressing his tongue right up against your clit and tracing little circles on and around it. The heat of his breath only helps further stir the coals in your womb, your back arching against the gentle curve of the world as you cry out.
He seems to deeply enjoy your keening, popping off your puckered flesh in the brief moment it takes for him to smile up at you, like a beast satisfied with the tortured screams of its prey. The way his tongue moves up, around, and down your clit makes you want to die, dirt clinging underneath your fingernails, bits of grass tearing as you claw at the ground. Still, he takes your keening reaction to double his efforts, using his fingers when his mouth is busy elsewhere, rubbing gentle little patterns in the opening of your slit.
There, you can feel your orgasm approaching as he begins to explore your core with his thumb, pushing and rubbing against the throbbing folds with some level of curiosity in his eyes.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, a passing observation.
You’re so beyond the point of return that you could barely even draw in the words to thank him before you’re overcome with shaking trembles emanating from your very core, your insides quick to bend and break at his beckoning. It doesn’t take much more teasing from Avery before you’re crying out for him, voice cracking with pleasure and desperation, your fingers threading through his hair so tightly you don’t know where you end, and he begins.
When you are nothing more than a heaping, teary-eyed mass of trembling flesh on the ground, he crawls up from between your legs, kisses your stomach, your ribs, your breasts, your collarbone, all the way up to your mouth once more. You can taste yourself on his tongue and lips, warmer than the wine and almost twice as intoxicating, and by the wild stare in his eyes, he’s drunk with your nectar. And, quite frankly, ready to devour you, his kisses all teeth and heat, mouth dexterous against the curves, rises, and plateaus of your body, like he knows so very intimately every square centimeter of you.
There’s a hard rock length against your stomach, one that you can feel, almost tragically against your skin as he lavishes your lips and chest with his blessed attention. Even though you walked into this situation expecting a one-night stand, you don’t know, this feels light it could rocket through your life and end up becoming
“More,” you rasp, surprised that your voice is even working, ” more.”
He understands that rough and demanding command, stroking your hair with one of his free hands, mouth offering up a myriad of kisses to your neck and collarbone, an odd, overcoming need to please you emanating off of him, one like you’ve never dealt with before. Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see the familiar masks of those at the party earlier, but Avery turns your wandering gaze back to him with his insistent, feral kiss, his chest trembling with heated need.
“Do you want my cock inside you?” He asks, wanting to hear you say it.
“Please,” you almost snarl, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Hmm,” he almost manages to fool you that he could care less, but by the way his body grinds and presses against yours, he’s so, so close to traveling the radius of the earth itself to comply. You can hear the rustle of fabric as he strips away what’s left of his ensemble, moving away from your body and leaving you almost horrifically cold.
It doesn’t take a lot for him to angle your legs properly, your thigh rubbing up against his throbbing member. He’s at least gentle with how he impales you, his entrance slow and gradual, kaleidoscope eyes staring so intently into your very being that you wonder if you’ll survive the next time pleasure crashes down around you. And he feels so good, the crisp, autumn grass against your back the only thing keeping you from becoming so lost beneath his trembling body.
He must share your thoughts because even though he’s only eased in, his forehead pressed against yours, his breathing is short and shallow like he could hardly believe the pleasure your body gives him. Once he’s fully sheathed, he swears, voice quiet, yet filled to the brim with lust. You wrap your legs around his waist, hoping to feel him further, your voice and your body begging him to continue, to move, but he’s almost in a trance.
You’re impatient for movement, for that slick friction between your thighs, so you quickly take matters into your own hands. With no finesse, fueled only by spite and determination, you shift, switching positions using your legs and arms. Avery simply rolls with it, a ghostly smile on his mouth as you pin his hands to the ground, chest heaving from the effort, a layer of sweat misting your skin despite the chill of the night.
That seems to break whatever space he had retreated to, eyes lit like a roaring forest fire as he beholds your body from beneath your legs. His voice is raspy, but the demand is calm, collected, like he’s waited for thousands of years for this, for you. “Use me.”
You let out a breath, steadying yourself on his body to comply, and grind. His eyes roll back as you do, starting slowly, his back arching off the ground, his chest heaving with pleasure at the loss of control. Careful to control the pace, you let yourself be taken by the pleasure, the joining slick and hot, your core roaring with approval and greed. More, more, more.
Everything is suddenly vibrantly alive, the forest rustling with a wind you don’t feel, crickets singing hymns in the open field, the moon herself licking at your bodies with her soft, precious light. You think you hear chanting in the distance, your brain muddled with his delicious praises and lust that you don’t try to investigate, too focused on feeling his length pulse and move through your folds. Tears prick at your eyes, not from sadness, no, and you couldn’t possibly know their purpose because this feels so good, like his body was made for you.
This climax almost hurts, you felt it approaching and you knew it would be a lot, so you brace yourself, both hands gripping his shoulders like a lifeline. You look into his eyes, and you see… more, than just fundamental attraction, more than pure, unadulterated lust, but you’re so far gone you can’t pinpoint what it is, exactly, before you’re overcome.
Everything in your body is aflame, your core quaking enough to make you think, for just a brief moment, that the earth itself is tearing apart, you cry, you whine, you scream for him, and he’s there, holding onto you for dear life. Telling you that you’re perfect, you’re beautiful, that you’ll never want another man so long as your legs are wrapped around him so tightly like this. You think you believe him, gasping for air, fingernails digging into his skin hard enough to draw blood, though he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.
It takes a lot of concentration to bring yourself back into your body, your soul and spirit so besotted with desire, but you manage it, feeling his hands grip your thighs so tightly his fingers may leave bruise marks. You bend forward, letting him take the reins as you try to stay present enough in the moment to kiss and nip at his neck, teeth tugging at his skin, the aftershocks still moving through your nerves like waves on a storming night. Still, though, you want him to feel what you did, to become undone by your hand.
And he does, his thrusts becoming so uneven that you begin to grind, ghosts of your orgasm weaving through your flesh and womb. A crescendo of noise seems to overtake the clearing, the air becoming like static, the hairs on your arms standing on end. Overcome, he curses and snarls in a language you don’t understand, his voice hard and soft at the same time, his hips jerking as something warm and wet pulses out of his member, filling you up and spilling out onto his pelvis.
Avery sits up, still joined within you, shaken, but startlingly and brilliantly alive, chest heaving with the effort of breathing. He presses his mouth against yours in a myriad of kisses, soft, possessive, tender, needy. There is still some amount of desire on his lips, but without the same uncontrollable yearning broiling just beneath his fevered skin like before.
Then he says your name, and a shiver goes down your spine, your very being somehow attentive to whatever he says next, as though your entire universe suddenly floods down and descends on this one, single person. He says it again, rolling it over his tongue like a wine taster, trying out each of the letters as though they offer a different kind of sweetness, his eyes just as wild as they had been when you held him pinned to the grass. A sliver of fear pierces your chest, making you want to push him onto the ground and take him again, but he has other plans.
“I’ll walk you back, dove,” he says, pressing his mouth against your collarbone, though he doesn’t kiss you again, not yet. “The sun will soon be up.”
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genshin boys valentine’s headcanons!
figured i’d be at least a little festive. these are kind of long so sorry sdkfsdfsd gonna put a read more. implied spice but not graphic - and i’m pretty sure i for once in my life kept it gender neutral so go me
these were kind of hard to do since i dont do hc’s really, i make fics and yall can for sure tell where i started to struggle skfsdfsd
they are also on ao3 so do not be alarmed
Diluc:
He’d be acting like he didn’t give a shit about valentine’s day but this mf is a softie
Thinking he didn’t care, you’d offer to just stay in for the day or something
Honestly as long as it was just the two of you, you don’t really care
“What? No, we’re going out to dinner. I already planned it.”
You were really surprised, since he hadn’t voiced an opinion on the holiday before
To him this year was different - you were married, so he assumes it should be a bigger deal
You dressed up in your favorite outfit and met him at Angel’s Share later that day and you swear you saw his jaw drop to the floor
He regained his composure before he could tease you about it, taking you to dinner as promised
He held your hand from across the table and listened to you ramble about whatever
You’d try to ask him things, but he’d shake you off, not wanting to talk about himself
Nothing was out of the ordinary, just a normal dinner
Until the walk home, when he pulled out a present for you
“I had this made for you.”
A necklace made out of a Crystal core, melted into the Pyro symbol like his vision
You started to get weepy as he put it on, pressing a kiss to your temple and wrapping his arms around your middle to embrace you
You turned back around to kiss him on the lips
After that he couldn’t get you home fast enough
You thanked the archons that everyone else at the WInery was home for the night
Namely because he fucked you right against the door once you got him
And on the reception desk
….. And the table
Kaeya:
Listen, this man dotes on you
We all know Kaeya is the romantic type to the max so this is his day
He wakes you up by kissing up your body and making you orgasm
After that, he has to go in and work for a little bit
You don’t really mind, he gave you a bag of Mora and told you to buy something nice because he’s taking you to Liyue for a few days
He plans on celebrating for days, apparently
“We have a lot to celebrate, don’t we? It’s been quite a year.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong about that
When you get to Liyue, immediately your taken out to dinner and told to order anything you wanted
You almost feel bad when you glance at the bill, saying it's not fair he did everything when it was supposed to be for both of you.
Later on that night, you and Kaeya walked around Liyue harbor together
“You didn’t have to do all this for me - really.”
He looked at you like you were crazy and smirked
“But I did.”
Imagine the look on your face when he got down on one knee
After you stopped crying, you somehow managed a yes
Once you get back to where you were staying, he was on you
Except now it’s time for you to show him how you feel
He doesn’t complain when you do
The reminder of your days in Liyue are spent in a similar fashion: eating and fucking
Childe:
He has it planned down to the second
When you woke up he was gone, making you upset
But when you walked out of the bedroom and saw the dozens of roses, all was forgiven
He left you a note, saying he’d be back shortly but to get ready to go out.
Once he was home, he found you and immediately embraced you
He was always one to shower you in compliments to begin with but today he was extra complimenting on everything about you
He planned the entire day around your favorite things to do, from going to the tea shop and to the bookstore
You tried to fit in something he liked to do, but he fought you
“I’m happy seeing you happy, you know that!”
God damn it, he made your heart melt
You got home that night and he cooked for you
And it was actually really, really good
He got you a few presents too, of course
Custom made jewelry, of course
You fell asleep on him that night, with his arms wrapped around you and your head on his chest
You had been cuddling for what felt like hours, exchanging loving kisses between conversation
You didn’t miss how he said he couldn’t wait till next year
Xiao:
Thinks that it’s incredibly dumb
“It’s a waste of time” he says
You get visibly sad, thinking now that you’re not gonna do anything for the whole day
You were gonna make him his favorite and everything, as a surprise
Now you’re just sad
Oh fuck oh fuck why are you upset red alert Xiao -
He asks Zhongli for advice, which isn’t any fucking good cause he tells him to show you how much he loves you
How the fuck does he do that?
He doesn’t know
He settles for trying to comfort you in his own way, cuddling with you and apologizing for being an ass
You accept, and offer to make Almond Tofu for the two of you, but he says he’ll make it instead
It isn’t very good, but the thought is what matters
He tried and that was enough for you
After dinner he gets very touchy
That damn Harbinger was with Zhongli, he mentioned this is also something women like
He wasn’t too keen to believe him, but the way you moaned just now made his dick twitch
The rest of the night he shows you just how much he really loves you
Albedo:
You didn’t think he knew that Valentine’s Day existed, honestly
Imagine your surprise when he woke you up with flowers, and saying he took the day off
…. But that you needed to go out for work first
You didn’t argue, he hardly ever took time off, so you’d go with him to get his supplies
Even if that meant you’d fucking freeze in Dragonspire
Once you got to his workstation in the mountain, he suggested a way to warm you up
Your heart skipped a beat, until he pulled out a warming potion
“What’s wrong? Drink it and you can be warm again.”
You drank it, and then explained what you had thought he meant
He laughed in your face, of course
“Don’t worry, that will come… after dinner.”
Now you were fidgeting with anticipation the rest of the damn night
(that was also something that didn’t happen to often, damn workaholic)
He started to notice at Angel’s Share, but you blamed it on the Dandelion Wine
He saw right through you, but of course made it up later that night
Right before you were about to go to sleep, you felt him slip something on your finger
It was a ring - obviously handmade. It glowed a pretty yellow color, much like his vision
“Happy Valentine’s, my love.”
Zhongli:
He doesn’t quite understand what the big deal is
“Why is there a day dedicated to love? I say it everyday, right?”
He thinks it's just a consumer-made holiday
Which it is, obviously
But god damn it you just want your boyfriend to treat you to fucking dinner
Even if it’s just Grilled Tiger Fish, that would suffice considering the former Archon never remembers his damn Mora
You thought you had died when he walked you into the finest restaurant in Liyue
You refused to order until you had proof he had Mora on him
He agreed with a laugh and showed you that he had plenty
He had arranged the table himself, apparently, moving both chairs next to each other
This was so he could hold you throughout the evening, make sure you were okay
And whisper raunchy things into your ear while you tried to watch the entertainment like everyone else
For someone who didn’t understand the hype he was feeding into it quite a bit
He may be ancient, but he still had game
By the time you were done, your thighs were red from you rubbing them together
You tried to make it into the bedroom, but he was quicker than you were
He called the rest of the night getting his Mora’s worth
Scaramouche:
“You’re kidding me? You care about that?”
You should have known that would be the reaction, honestly
After begging hard enough, he agrees to dinner
You claim he gave in, he claims he was going to do it anyway
(he gave in)
He spent almost the whole time irritated that everyone was lovey-dovey
“Scara, that’s how it is today. We look like the odd ones out.”
He couldn’t have any of that, so he moved his chair next to yours and ate with one arm around your shoulder the rest of the time
You dragged him around to do things that you saw other couples doing
You know, like holding hands and going for walks, eating some street food
Couple things
He was quiet for most of the night, humoring you
You saw a nice necklace that you wanted while you were walking, but was offput by the price
They wanted how much Mora for that?!
You were eating a snack when Scaramouche walked away, saying he’d be back
A few minutes later, he clasped the necklace around your neck
“I don’t want to hear it. Isn’t that the whole point of the holiday? Buying shit for your partner?”
You tried to tell him it wasn’t just that, but he shut you up with some kisses
When you got home, he shut you up with more than just kisses
“This is what I was looking forward to today.”
#diluc x reader#diluc ragnvindr x reader#kaeya x reader#kaeya alberich x reader#childe x reader#tartagila x reader#zhongli x reader#albedo x reader#scaramouche x reader#xiao x reader
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Sex Drive part 2
Pairings: Colson x Reader, Colson x Reader x Rook Reader x Rook
Warnings/tags: smut, unexpected exhibitionism, threesome, double penetration, anal, choking, hair pulling, mild spitting, humiliation, jealousy, being walked in on
Authors note: Being wet DOES NOT = consent irl, just had to put that out there as it may seen I’m suggesting that in a certain scene, Kells is just saying sexy shit and reader is 100% consenting.
Part 1 here
*************
“I knew you wouldn’t be able to go without sex the whole month,” you tease with a giggle as Colson secures his black flag bandana around your eyes from behind you. “Can’t even make it two more weeks, huh?” You tease.
He roughly grips your jaw, turning your head to speak into your ear. “Funny, I don’t remember giving you permission to talk,” he grits through his teeth as he strips your body bare. “Now, walk!” he commands, pushing you forward.
“Oooh where are we going?” You question playfully.
“Don’t worry about it,” he quips, shoving you through the doorway of the adjoining hotel room, unbeknownst to you.
Once inside the room he quickly removes the bandana from your eyes and tosses you down on the bed before you have a chance to view your surroundings.
“Colson?” you push yourself up on your hands confused. “This isn’t our ro — Jesus Christ!” You shriek when you take notice of Rook sitting in an oversized chair in the corner of the room, his elbows resting on his knees with both hands wrapped around the neck of a beer bottle between his legs, his eyes scoping out your naked frame. “What the hell is going on?” You look quizzically between Colson and Rook while clutching a pillow over your exposed body.
Colson looks proud of himself, smirking as he watches your face morph through a series of reds, settling on the brightest. If there was one thing stronger than Colson’s jealousy it was his humiliation kink. He loved the way you blushed and got all shy and flustered whenever you got embarrassed, and he couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing for you than one of his best friends seeing your most intimate areas… and perhaps even touching them — with your permission of course.
“Is someone gonna answer me, what’s going on?” You repeat.
“Well I figured with all the times I’ve caught you checking out Rook I’d give you the opportunity to fuck him.” Colson answers nonchalantly.
“Colson I thought we established I was only checking him out to make you jealous so you’d be more rough with me,” you remind him. ‘Ok maybe the use of the word ‘only’ was stretching the truth a bit,’ you think to yourself. You know damn well that wasn’t the only reason. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find Rook attractive. “That’s why I’m punished, ‘no dick for a month’ remember?”
“That’s not what I said — I said you’re not getting MY dick for a month. You’re welcome to have Rooks….while I watch of course,” he smirks.
As if that was his cue, Rook stands and walks over towards you. He places his half drunken beer on the nightstand and takes a seat at the foot of the bed.
You swear your heart stops beating for a full ten seconds before you can form words. “Have you gone insane!? You want me to fuck Rook...while you watch?” You question in shock, certain he has lost his damn mind.
“Well, I mean, you’re free to say no… but let’s be honest, we both know that you won’t,” Colson sits on the bed next to you and snatches the pillow covering you from your grasp. “Just look at that pussy, glistening!” He prys your legs open to show Rook just how much the whole idea already has you absolutely dripping. “Now does this look like the pussy of a girl who’s about to say no?” he runs a finger through your slick folds gathering your arosal and turns to Rook who just bites his lip and shakes his head.
There’s no hiding the fact that you want this, you’re more shocked at how into it Colson seems, but he’s right, you certainly weren’t gonna say no.
“Don’t be shy, come have a taste Rookie,” Colson taunts holding out his glossed finger. Rook moves further up the bed, opposite colson, one boy now on each side of you. He leans in and extends his tongue curling it around the silken thread of your excitement stringing from Colson’s finger, and pulls it into his mouth.
“Whatcha think bro, how she taste?”
“Mmmm, fuck! Amazing actually!” Rook exclaims, smacking his tongue against his lips, savoring your essence. “No word of a lie bro, some of the best pussy I’ve ever tasted, ya lucky bastard.”
“Yeah?” Colson’s chuckles at his enthusiasm. “Well help me get her warmed up a little, then she’s all yours,” he says gently stroking your clit. “Although she clearly doesn’t need it,” he jokes, amused by how wet you are. “But something tells me she’ll enjoy both of us playing with her for a bit. Ain’t that right baby?” He smirks, looking at you.
“Please,” you squirm under Colson’s touch and the anticipation of Rooks.
Slowly Rook begins trailing the tips of his fingers up your inner thigh, inching closer to where to want it most before finally joining Colson’s. They join forces , sandwiching your clit between both of their fingertips as they work you methodically.
“Oh, fuck,” your voice shakes, a cocktail of nerves and pleasure coursing through you. As good as it feels and as much as you want it , you can’t help but be a little anxious, it’s been a long time since anyone but Colson has seen you naked never mind touching you like this. “You two are gonna be the death of me,” you moan breathily arching your back up off the bed.
“Relax slut, this just the beginning” Colson leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your nipples as he glides his fingers down to your entrance. He easily slips in two of them, the cool metal of his rings bumping against your warm heat with every curl of his fingers; Rook now having solo reign over your clit. Colson’s free hand grips your breast, his thumb and forefinger tugging at your nipple, before taking it into his mouth. Rook follows suit attaching his mouth to your opposite breast, making sure to leave soft violet markings in his wake, claiming you, if only for the night.
“Alright, I’ll let you take over from here,” Colson says to Rook, slipping his fingers out of you. “Be a good girl for Rook,” he grips your chin smearing your juices along your jawline before retreating to the oversized chair in the corner, where he begins palming himself through his jeans. And like a shark to blood, Rook is drawn to your scent, his mouth moving up your chest, and neck, devouring your slick remnants with open mouthed kisses, while he continues to massage the sweet spot between your thighs.
“You taste so good,” he smiles against your mouth before kissing you. His tongue prods at your lips , begging for entrance. You part your pout welcoming him inside; your tongues beginning a do-si-do. He feels so foreign in your mouth; taboo in the best way.
“Yeah?” You break the kiss. “Why don’t you taste it straight from the source,” you say seductively.
“Yes ma’am. Don’t gotta tell me twice,” Rook smirks before disappearing between your thighs.
“Now we’re getting somewhere!” Colson chides from the corner of the room, freeing himself from the confines of his bulging jeans. Slowly, he strokes himself in rhythm with Rooks tongue fucking in and out of you, watching as he gathers your sweetness on his tastebuds.
“Mmmmm, God—“ Rook huffs in unbelievable enjoyment against your core, before attaching his lips snugly around your clit, providing it with gentle pulsating suction. It’s different than you’re used to — Kells being more of the rapid tongue flicking type— but damn, if it doesn’t feel equally as good.
“Uhh, yes! Just like that, Rook. Don’t stop!” You exclaim in pleasure; one hand gripping the sheets, the other the back of Rooks neck.
Hearing you say Rook’s name like that has Colson squeezing his cock harder and faster, his jealousy unintentionally tightening his grip. He’s enjoying watching you be pleasured but can’t curb feeling possessive, in fear that perhaps you’re enjoying this a little TOO much.
“I still... Mmm...can’t… get over… how good you taste,” Rook speaks between open-mouth kisses to your tenderness. “I swear I could eat you as my last meal,”
“Dawg, keep talking to my fucking girl like that and it WILL be your last meal,” Colson half jokes, his jealousy peaking for sure — now beating his dick as if it were Rook. “How ‘bout you just shut up and fuck her now, before I change my mind.”
“Ready?” Rook questions with a smirk ,from between your thighs.
“Ready!” You squirm impatiently, already missing the contact of his tongue .
Quickly, Rook strips off his leather vest and other clothing until he’s completely naked. Just as he’s about to get settled between your legs Colson pipes up again from the corner.
“Baby I want you to ride him, lemme see those titties and ass bounce for me while you fuck yourself on his dick.”
“Mmmm hell yeah! I wanna see too,” Rook says excitedly, moving to lay on his back; arms behind his head.
“You’re pushing it Rook!” Colson warns.
“Baby, chill,” you giggle at how flustered Colson’s getting. “I know this pussy only belongs to you,” you turn facing him, spreading yourself open. Colson groans at the sight, his eyes momentarily slipping shut as he tries not to bust right there. “Besides—,” you smirk. “This was your idea.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah C’mon… less talking, more fucking,” Colson orders.
You climb over Rook who’s waiting with cock in hand pointed towards the heavens and squat over him, hovering just above the tip before sinking down to the hilt with a moan. You push back up, and come down fast, your skin echoing off Rooks with a slap.
“Ugh fuck!,” Rook sits halfway up to mouth at your breasts and neck as you continue to bounce in his lap.
You turn your head back slightly to watch Colson, his teeth sunken deep into his bottom lip, eyes so intensely glued to every roll of your hips, and his hips thrusting up to fuck into his own palm. You turn back to Rook and pick up the pace riding him harder and faster knowing Colson’s close to finishing. You don’t know what burns more the desire inside of you or your thighs, but you don’t stop, determined to make both men and yourself cum at any moment now.
“Oh, Rook!” You cry out with your head thrown back and hands planted firmly on his tattooed chest. You’re so so close.
“Ahww, shit, you gonna cum?” Rook questions out of breath. “Me too.”
Just then the hotel door clicks open “Hey, Rook have you seen Kel— WHAT THE FUCK!!” Exclaims Slim completely caught off guard by what he’s seeing, bringing you and Rook to a halt. “Girl, I know you think it’s cute to make Kells jealous and shit so he’ll choke or whatever crazy shit you’re into but you took it took it too far this time, cuz Kells about to choke both you to DEATH when he finds out.”
“Yo! Why the fuck does everyone keep talking when I’m tryna cum?” Colson yells annoyed and on the edge from the corner of the room.
“Kells???” Slim questions peering around the door. “Da fuck is going on in here? Ya know what, second thought, I don’t wanna know. I— I’m just… I’m just gonna go,” Slim states in utter shock and confusion as he backs out the door.
“Good idea, try fucking knocking next time maybe? Rook shouts after him.
“Fuck, my legs are killing me!” You huff as soon as you hear the door click shut, shifting your weight onto your knees. Immediately, Rook takes over, snapping his hips up and into you from below.
“Aye, I can’t take this shit no more my hands about to fucking fall off, lemme get in there,” Colson says getting up from the chair and kicking off his jeans and boxers. He tugs his shirt over his head and climbs behind you on the bed. He spits in his hand ,coating his cock with his saliva, then brings the tip to the only hole not currently occupied: your ass. You’re no stranger to anal; it is Colson’s favorite afterall. You welcome the penetrating stretch as he pushes in. It’s slightly awkward at first as the boys figure out and establish a rhythm that works for all three of you. Their cocks pound in and out of you in unison; one in each hole, providing you with the most pleasurable, satisfying fullness. “Unh, baby so fucking good for us. Taking it so well,” Colson praises you through gritted teeth . “You like being a little whore for us like this, huh? Rook fucking your pussy while I fuck this ass?” He asks crudely with a hardy slap to your backside.
“I fucking love it — YES! Treat me like a fucking whore!” You exclaim in wild passion, as you teeter on the edge of orgasm.
“Oh we’ll treat you like a whore alright!” Colson speaks through his groans, grabbing a fistful of your hair using it as leverage to pound into you harder.
With your head yanked back in Colson’s grasp, Rook takes advantage of the unoccupied column of flesh above him, wrapping his hand tightly around your throat. The way both boys have you feeling like a used plaything has you cumming in seconds, riding out wave after wave. The noise they make as you clench around them both is like heaven; Rook’s slightly louder and high pitched than Colson’s deep throaty rumble. They cum almost in perfect time with eachother; with Colson just a few seconds sooner, filling your ass with his warmth, as Rook pulls out, busting his load up onto your stomach. The three of you collapse into a sticky sweaty mess, both boys rolling to your sides; the air thick with heavy breathing and the smell of sex.
The way Rook looks completely spent and fucked out of his mind is hilariously adorable; still trying desperately to catch his breath, his leg visibly twitching and shaking and his hand running through his sweaty hair with a ‘did that really just happen?’ expression on his face .
“You ok there buddy?” Colson’s laughs, reaching over you to give Rook’s arm a tap with the back of his hand. Colson’s used to having crazy sex with you by now.
“Umm ...I think so.” He releases a long winded breath followed by a brief chuckle.
“You know what my favorite part about this was?” You turn to Colson. “I broke you!!” You tease.”Not only did I get Rook’s dick but I got yours too! Slim was right when he said you wouldn’t last through my punishment with your sex drive!”
“For the record, I said you weren’t gonna get my dick in your PUSSY, for a month. Now correct me if I’m wrong but wasn’t that your ass I just fucked? Nice try, you’re still punished.”
*******
Tag list: @dannyboy-trash (won’t let me tag you) , @famousobservationfan @blxxdyvalentine19xx
#colson baker#colson baker smut#machine gun kelly#machine gun kelly smut#mgk#mgk smut#colson baker fanfic#machine gun kelly fanfic#xx#est#colson baker x reader#mgk x reader#machine gun kelly x reader#rook cappelletty#rook cappelletty smut#rook#jp cappelletty#jp cappelletty smut#rook cappelletty x reader#jp cappelletty fanfic#rook x reader#rook x colson x reader
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Well, this is interesting! So, in that post yesterday, there was one line that really baffled me, a thing about people brushing off a character as an asshole “because he shows literally zero growth.” I kind of set that aside because it was such a weird non-sequitur, and guessed that it was just someone’s sentences not quite keeping up with their train of thought, which has happened to me many times. Apparently I was wrong! I already spent long enough on that one post, I’m tired of talking about that, but this is new and interesting.
Okay. I kind of wanted to see if I could talk about this purely in terms of abstracts and not characters, but I don’t think it’ll work. It would be frustrating to write and confusing to read. It’s about Jiang Cheng. Right up front: This isn’t about whether or not he’s an abuser. Frankly, I don’t think it’s relevant. This also isn’t about telling people they should like him. I don't care whether anyone else likes him or not. But I do like him, and I am always fascinated by dissecting the reasons that people disagree with me. And the process of Telling Stories is my oldest hyperfixation I remember, which will become relevant in a minute.
I thought I had a good grasp on this one, you know? Jiang Cheng makes it pretty obvious why people would dislike Jiang Cheng. But then the posts I keep stumbling over were making weird points, culminating in that “literally zero growth” line.
So! What happened is that someone wrote up a post about how Jiang Cheng’s character arc isn’t an arc, it’s stagnation. It’s a pretty interesting read, and I broadly agree with the larger point! The points where I would quibble are like... the idea that it’s absolute stagnation, as opposed to very subtle shifts that still make a material difference. But still, cool! The post was also offered up as a reason why OP was uninterested in writing any more Jiang Cheng meta, which I totally get. I’m not tired of him yet, but I definitely understand why someone who isn’t a fan of his would get tired about writing about a character with a very static arc. Okay!
Now, internet forensics are hard. I desperately wish I had more information about this evolution, because I find this stuff fascinating, but I have no good way to find things said in untagged posts, reblogs, or private/external venues. But as far as I can tell, that “literally zero growth” wasn’t just a slip of the tongue, it’s become fashionable for people to say that Jiang Cheng is an abusive asshole (that it’s fucked up to like) because he doesn’t have a character arc.
Asshole? Yes. Abusive? This post still isn’t about that. This is about it being fucked up to like this character because he did bad things and had a static character arc.
At first, that point of view was still deeply confusing to me. But I think I figured out the idea at the core of it, and now I’m only baffled. I’m not super interested in confirming this directly, because the people making the most noise about this have not inspired confidence in their ability to hold a civil conversation and I’m a socially anxious binch, but I think the idea is: ‘This character did Bad Things, and then did not improve himself.’
Which is alarmingly adjacent to that old favorite standard of ‘This piece of fiction is glorifying Bad Thing.’ I haven’t seen anyone accusing mxtx of something something jiang cheng, only the people who read/watched/heard the story and became invested in the Jiang Cheng character, but things kind of add up, you know?
Like I said, I don’t want to arbitrate anyone’s right to like/dislike Jiang Cheng. That’s such a fucking waste of time. But this is fascinating to me, because it’s like..... so obviously new and sudden, with such a clear originating point. I can’t speak to the Chinese fans, obviously, but exiledrebels started translating in... what, 2017? And only now, in 2021, do people start putting forth Jiang Cheng’s flat character arc as a “reason” that he’s bad? I’m not going to argue if he pings you in the abuse place, I’m not a dick. I’m not going to argue if you just dislike his vibes. I’m just over here on my blog and in the tag enjoying myself, feel free to detour around me. But oh my god, it’s so silly to try to tell other people that they shouldn’t like him because he has a static character arc.
I want to talk about stories. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to say, because it’s impossible to make broad, sweeping statements, because there are stories about change, there are stories about lack of change, there are all kinds of media that can be used to tell stories, and standards for how stories are told and what they emphasize vary across cultures and over time. But I think that what I can say is that telling a story requires... compromise. It requires streamlining. Trying to capture all the detail of life would slow down most stories to an unbearable degree. Consider organically telling someone ‘I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich’ versus the computer science exercise of having students describe, step by step, how to make one (spread peanut butter? but you never said you opened the lid)
Hell, I’ve got an example in mdzs itself. The largely-faceless masses of the common people. If someone asks you to think about it critically like, yes, obviously these are people, living their own lives, with their own desires, sometimes suffering and dying in the wake of the novel plot. But does the story give weight to those deaths? Or does it just gloss by? Yes, it references their suffering occasionally, but it is not the focus, and it would slow the story unbearably to give equal weight to each dead person mentioned.
Does Wei Wuxian’s massacre get given the same slow, careful consideration as Su She’s, or Jin Guangyao’s? No, because taking the time to weigh our protagonist with ‘well, this one was a mother, and her youngest son had just started walking, but now he’s going to grow up without remembering her face. that one only became an adult a few months ago, he still hasn’t been on many night-hunts yet, but he finds it so rewarding to protect the common people. oh, and this one had just gotten engaged, but don’t worry, his fiancee won’t mourn him, because she died here as well.’ And continuing on that way to some large number under 3000? No! Unless your goal is to make the reader feel bad for cheering for a morally grey hero, that would be a bad authorial decision! The book doesn’t ignore the issue, it comes up, Wei Wuxian gets called out about all the deaths he’s responsible for, but that’s not the same as them being given equal emotional weight to one (1) secondary character, and I don’t love this new thing where people are pretending that’s equivalent.
When Wei Wuxian brutally kills every person at the Wen supervisory office, are you like ‘holy shit... so many grieving families D:’ or are you somewhere between vindicated satisfaction and an ‘ooh, yikes’ wince? Odds are good you’re somewhere in the satisfaction/wince camp, because that’s what the story sets you up to feel, because the story has to emphasize its priorities (priorities vary, but ‘plot’ and ‘protagonist’ are common ones, especially for a casual novel read like this)
Now, characters. If you want to write a story with a sweeping, epic scale, or if you want to tightly constrain the number of people your story is about, I guess it’s possible to give everyone involved a meaningful character arc. Now.... is it always necessary? Is it always possible? Does it always make sense? No, of course not. If you want to do that, you have to devote real estate to it, and depending on the story you want to tell, it could very possibly be a distraction from your main point, like the idea of mxtx tenderly eulogizing every single character who dies even incidentally. Lan Qiren doesn’t get a loving examination of his feelings re: his nephews and wei wuxian and political turnover in the cultivation world because it’s not relevant, and also, because his position is pretty static until right near the end of the story. Lan Xichen is arguably one of the most static characters within the book, he seems like the same nice young between Gusu and the present, right up until... just before the end of the story.
You may see where I’m heading with this.
Like, just imagine trying to demand that every important character needs to go through a major life change before the end of your book or else it didn’t count. This just in, Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg go through multiple novels without experiencing radical shifts in who they are, stop liking them immediately. I do get that the idea is that Jiang Cheng was a ~bad person~ who didn’t change, but asdgfsd I thought we were over the handwringing over people being allowed to like ““bad”” fictional characters. The man isn’t even a canonical serial killer, he’s not my most problematic fave even within this novel.
And here is where it’s a little more relevant that I would quibble with that original post about Jiang Cheng’s arc. He’s consistently a mean girl, but he goes from stressed, sharp-edged teenager, to grief-stricken, almost-destroyed teen, to grim, cold young adult (and then detours into grim, cold, and grief-stricken until grief dulls with time). He does become an attentive uncle tho. He..... doesn’t experience a radical change in his sense of self, which... it’s...... not all that strange for an adult. And bam, then he DOES experience a radical change, but the needs of the plot dictate that it’s right near the end. And he’s not the focus of the story, baby, wangxian is. He has the last few lines of the story, which nicely communicate his changes to me, but also asdfafas we’re out of story. He was never the main character, it’s not surprising we don’t linger! The extras aren’t beholden to the needs of plot, but they’re also about whatever mxtx wanted to write, and I guess she didn’t feel like writing about Jiang Cheng ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
But also. Taking a step backward. Stable characters can fill a perfectly logical place in a story. Like, look at Leia Organa. I’m not saying she has no arc, but I am saying that she’s a solid point of reference as Luke is becoming a jedi and Han is adjusting his perspective. I wouldn’t call her stagnant, the vibes are wrong, but she also isn’t miserable in her sadness swamp, the way Jiang Cheng is.
Or, hell, look at tgcf. The stagnant, frozen nature of the big bad is a central feature of the story. The bwx of now is the bwx of 800 years ago is the bwx of 1500+ years ago. This is not the place for a meta on how that was bad for those around him and for him himself, but I have Thoughts about how being defeated at the end is both a thing that hurts him and relieves him. Mei Nianqing is a sympathetic character who’s also pretty darn static. Does Ling Wen have a character arc, or do we just learn more about who she already is and what her priorities always were? I’m going to cut myself off here, but a character’s delta between the beginning of a story and the end of a story is a reasonable way to judge how interesting writing character meta is, and is a very silly metric to judge their worth, and even if I guessed at what the basic logic is, for this character, I am still baffled that it’s being put forth as a real talking point.
(also, has it jumped ship to any other characters yet? have people started applying it in other fandoms as well? please let me know if this is the case, I am wildly curious)
(no, but really, if anyone is arguing that bwx is gross specifically because he had centuries to self-reflect and didn’t fix himself, i am desperate to know)
And finally. The thing I thought was most self-evident. Did I post about this sometime recently? If a non-central character experiences a life-altering paradigm shift right near the end of the story (without it being lingered over, because non-central character), oh my god. As a fic writer? IT’S FREE REAL ESTATE. This is the most fertile possible ground. If I want to write post-canon canon-compliant material, adsgasfasd that’s where I’m going to be looking. Okay, yeah, the main couple is happy, that’s good. Who isn’t happy, and what can I do about that? Happy families are all alike, while every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way, etc.
It’s not everyone’s favorite playground, but come on, these are not uncommon feelings. And frankly, it’s starting to feel a little disingenuous when people act like fan authors pick out the most blameless angel from the cast and lavish good things upon them. I’m not the only one who goes looking for a good dumpster fire and says I Live Here Now. If I write post-canon tgcf fic, it’s very likely to focus on beef and/or leaf. I have written more than one au focusing on tianlang-jun.
And, hilariously. If the problem with Jiang Cheng. Is that he is a toxic man fictional character who failed to grow on his own, and is either unsafe or unhealthy to be around. If the problem is that he did not experience a character arc. If these people would be totally fine with other people liking him, if he improved himself as a person. And then, if authors want to put in the (free! time-consuming!) work of writing that character development themselves. You would think that they would be lauded for putting the character through healthier sorts of personal growth than he experienced in canon. Instead, I am still here writing this because first, I was bothered by these authors being named as “freaks” who are obsessed with their ‘uwu precious tsundere baby’ with a “love language of violence,” and then I was graciously informed that people hate Jiang Cheng because he experiences no character growth.
#jiang cheng#mdzs#the untamed#disk horse#long post/#abuse/#only tangentially#but better safe than sorry i hope
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“we’re you two...from the future”
pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader
cw: language, violence, fluff
word count: 3800+
a/n: umm sorry for not posting requests, im getting through them all, so hopefully they’ll all be done by the end of the month
summary: in which you and bakugo sneak out intending to go see some stars but are met with the unlikliest of people, explaining their situation, you end up fighting alongside them, and realising just how far your relationship will go with the blond
↞ back to my hero academia masterlist
You laid sprawled against Bakugo, his finger flicking through Tiktok which you had forced him to get. One hand playing in your hair whilst he did so, you were reading some manga that had come out for your favourite series. It was a peaceful mood between the two of you, no shouting, no anger just the sound of the soft music playing from your speakers and the Tiktok sounds off of Bakugo.
His rough hands felt warm in your hair, massaging the scalp occasionally which gave you a burst of love. He looked down dropping his phone to the side as he watched you read. The way your eyes would crease when a serious panel was occurring or loosen when something more joyful happened.
“Stop staring, it’s creepy.” You muttered playfully.
He scowled at you, letting go of your hair and moving his legs to make you fall on the bed. “That’s what you get for calling me creepy.”
Chuckling at the boy you drop the manga to the side, moving back between his legs as you rested your head against his chest. He wrapped his hands around your waist and put his chin on top of your head as he let you on his phone.
The boy who had no apps and only cared about the health one. It worried you and forcing him to get Tiktok had made him hate his phone even more due to spending a whole night just scrolling without realising.
“I heard there’s a new exhibition opening up tonight, we should sneak out and go.” Your soft voice contrasted his much louder one. It was angelic almost feeling like he was around an unearthly presence when you were around.
He raises an eyebrow at the thought, “if it’s another shitty exhibition then were not going.”
“It’s not, they’re doing a midnight watch the stars thing.” He smiled watching you try to find the article but unable to. The photo on his home screen reminding him of how much he actually did love spending time with you.
Another late-night outing to get ice cream and it was a photo of the both of you watching the sunset. It was cute enough, but he’d hate if anybody saw it and tarnished his reputation as confident and independent which you’d often refer to as being a dick.
“Yeah, yeah we’ll go then.” He sounded bored of the situation, but you knew him better than anybody through the unamusement he was melting inside. He would get to watch the stars with his love, and he wouldn’t have to worry about anything else.
Midnight arises quicker than usual, Bakugo was normally asleep by 8pm so nobody bothered to question him leaving early. And you, well he’d probably want you beside him, so nobody questioned that either.
Instead you were met by the balcony, Bakugo’s arms around you as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You both had done this too many times to count, you guessed Aizawa knew and didn’t care. As long as you two came back safe than everything would be fine.
The fall from the balcony sent a rush of wind through your hair as Bakugo’s quirk activated and you felt yourself in the air. He had gotten used to using his quirk to fly and was able to do it with a lot more ease and precision. If you let, go you’d be a goner and he’d probably have to save you.
Seeing his lips twitch he was trying to suppress a smile but instead he stayed stoic as usual. Inside his heart was aching at how you looked in the air. It was his favourite time with you, the way you looked so utterly magnificent in the air. It was a true sight for sore eyes for the blond.
Finally landing, you felt the ground under you wobbling a bit. Bakugo grabbed you which helped you a lot more than you realised. His arms holding you upright just as you two were outside the exhibition hall.
Seeing the line, he sees your bright smile and heavy breaths through the air. “i want a good seat.” You take his hand dragging him towards the line as you both stood and waiting in line.
You could hear the line shuffle before hearing a familiar voice behind you. “Baby, we always miss the midnight showings, come on whilst we’re here.”
It sounded too familiar even, like it was your own. You were about to turn around to see but felt Bakugo drag you forward. The voice ringed through your head, it could’ve just been your imagination, but it was weird. It felt like an echo of the future.
The hall was almost empty, a lot more people had bought tickets to the other exhibitions rather than the planetarium one which made it a lot better for the two of you. Underneath the stars alone would be perfect especially if Bakugo could freely watch you as well.
“Two tickets to the planetarium.” Bakugo had already bought the tickets inside but the sound of the same voice again was heard. Trying to look back to see, people had begun crowding around to get other essentials, mostly food. The person was no longer visible, and you turned to face Bakugo.
“What’s wrong?” He crossed his arms waiting for an answer.
“I keep hearing someone, she...she sounds like me.” He comes closer giving you a look before hugging you.
“It’s probably your imagination, it’s late that’s why, come on dumbass.” He let’s go of you right at the end of his talk and takes your hand. Kissing the back to bring some comfort.
You both walk in seeing an almost empty room. It was midnight on a Tuesday you didn’t really expect a lot of people but nobody really.
Both you and Bakugo sat on the back row. It was the perfect sear for him to watch the stars but also see how beautiful you looked under the white light. The sound of more people coming brought relief that this event would still occur. Bakugo’s hand rested on top of yours he watched out how there was only natural light from outside but even then, the moon did little against the darkness.
“Just sit down, we can’t be worrying about seats.” You heard the voice again and this time it seemed closer than usual, almost next to you.
Bakugo’s thumb rubbed circles on the back of your hand. A comfort but as you turned to finally meet the woman you were met with a heavy shock. A scream belched through the room, everybody had gone silent, Bakugo in an instant was up ready to fight whoever it was.
“Bakugo.” The two of you shouted, the woman in front of you looked at you with cares as you looked back at her. The same eyes, same nose, same mouth, hell even the hair was a bit longer for her, but it was there. And the voice, the same shout for your loves.
“Y/n.” This time the two guys who had been standing up ready to see what had happened had spoken and this time a confusion settled between the four of you.
“Outside now.” The blond said, it sounded exactly like your Bakugo but didn’t. Rougher around the edges an even deeper voice. But it couldn’t be, the two had gotten up scurrying outside and you followed.
Apologising to the others as you left, the opened the doors again and were met with the inside of the yellow lamps. It helped to see better and this time you and Bakugo had a full view of the two.
Your eyes widened at her, the hero costume exactly like yours but more seductive, professional even was around her. She stared back at you, the younger her, the one who hadn’t experienced what was to come.
The two men stood in front of each other, Bakugo’s winter outfit on the much taller man. You had remained the same height, but it seemed Bakugo had grown to over 6ft and his much smaller self looked with a snarl. But even then, he looked the same, the same look of disgust, the piercing scarlet eyes along with the same hero costume. He may look more built and even more intimidating but having her beside him making him look almost sweet like a lost puppy and she was his master.
“It can’t be.” You whispered out.
“Oh but it is.” The woman spoke out, “i missed that ugly haircut you used to have.”
She had said it to Bakugo’s older self who remarked back a scowl and crossed arms, something your own was doing himself, “I grew out of the Pomeranian look dumbass.”
“What the fuck shitty woman? Fucking explain what this is.” Bakugo growled, he was annoyed and confused two emotions he hated being.
You went to grab his hand and he became a lot more settled at that touch. “Did i really only settle down if you were there?” The older Bakugo muttered, he had more of an undercut but even then, you could tell it was Bakugo.
“Yeah, you were a pussy back then.” The older him glared at her, she glared back but even then, he softly pushed her to the side. “Fucking twat.”
“Don’t fucking swear in front of kids.” You and Bakugo stood in confusion at the squabble going on between the older versions of yourself.
“If you hurt me ill wake up from this horrible nightmare.” You kept whispering but even then, it was real.
The two-stop fighting and looked back at the both of you. “Let’s get ice cream, you’re paying.” She pointed at the version of Bakugo before taking your hand. “We have so much to explain.”
“Her younger self was so much better why’d she have to fucking grow up.” The older version spoke with a pissed off tone, he watched the two walk away before looking at his younger self. “The hair was shit, kid.”
“What the fuck, shut up old man, and stop talking about my girlfriend like that.” Your Bakugo remarked back, always the hot head.
The ice cream shop was only a few minutes away and both the older versions of yourself went to order. “Katsuki, what the fuck is happening?”
“They’re us Y/n.”
You pushed his arm which went back around the back of the booth. It skimmed back and forth onto your shoulder as you leaned into his side. “Way to state the obvious.”
“They could be villains, who have some sort of transformation quirk, whatever it is, the first sign of danger I’ll kill them.” Bakugo looked outside, he felt your soft fingers on his thigh out of reassurance that he was real.
The two came back with a tray of both your favourite ice cream. “We did like this when we were kids right?” She said to her Bakugo, he shrugged picking the ice cream and taking a bite of it.
“Who are you two?” You questioned taking the ice cream and mixing it with your plastic spoon to become softer. You watched the older version do the exact same thing and knew it couldn’t have been a villain.
“Younger you sure was fucking unaware.” The older Bakugo spoke a loud.
“Don’t be a twat.” She hit his arm, making him wrap his arm around her as well.
It was like an exact copy of you two on each side and it felt eerie. “We need proof you ain’t villains, if you are, I’ll kill you both.”
“We understand that but let us explain what happened first Katsuki.” She spoke his name with the same love and ease, it felt too familiar to him, like he had heard it so many times before.
You nod starting to lick at the spoon as you waited to hear, “quick version, we were trying to catch this villain, he has a quirk that can send people back in time, and the fucking asshole sent us back in time.”
You smiled at the older boy, how similar Bakugo remained in the future. How he still had the same look of disgust but when looking at you, he saw hope and love. “That’s a shitty explanation.” She continued, “he sends people back in time and follows them to kill their past self to create a loophole.” She plays with the spoon taking a hesitant pause, “we’re you two...from the future.”
“You two idiots got caught.” Bakugo began laughing as if he was making fun of your classmates before he realised. “Wa...” Bakugo kicked under the table at his older self, “you got fucking caught you dumbass.”
“It’s fine, it only lasts an hour, that’s why normally those who get sent back come back to their time but then begin to disintegrate as there younger selves died.”
“We would’ve heard about these cases.” You were confused at how this hadn’t been mainstream news.
“With no culprit, it won’t make the headlines.” She licked the spoon before setting the container onto the table. “Any questions?”
“I don’t believe I’d be that much of a dumbass to get caught, prove you’re us.” Bakugo proposed, his hands had been playing in your hair and he really wanted to imagine this was some kind of dream he was in.
“God kids are fucking annoying, remind me to never give you one.”
“He’s you.” You and your older self-speak in unison and the look of horror at the angry boy in front of him was something else.
“You better not get her pregnant at...” Bakugo mutters seeing your older self, he sees the beauty you retain. How you look like a goddess to him and how you always still remain his love.
“26.” She says smiling happily.
“Are you two married?” You ask, hoping something had occurred by now.
She goes through her pockets, the boy next to her doing the same before finding what she’s looking for. A silver band with a crystal in the middle. it was beautiful, Bakugo’s own having something inscribed on it.
“Engaged.” She shows the ring to you on her finger, it fitted her finger perfectly. Your fingers perfectly. Your Bakugo looked at the sight, he had gotten the courage to do it, to make you permanently his. You both would last forever.
Bakugo coughs to try and get out of his happiness and go back to his angry self. “Go on then, ask us the shitty questions?”
“Why were you at that event?”
His older self looking at her before rolling his eyes leaning back on the booth, “her and her obsession with the stars.”
“We had to time to kill.” She elbows his side making him give a glare to the woman. Not his normal disgusted one but one that you all knew he was joking and mocking the woman.
“What are you both in the Hero Charts?” That was the question Bakugo really cared about; he didn’t need proof anymore he just wanted to know if he made it to the top.
“I’m 5th and umm, Suki...” She let him speak, you were happy to be in the top ten that was an achievement, but you could tell the words that would come out of his older self would not be happy ones.
Before any words could come out the sound of lightening sprung out through the street. “It can’t be, he said he wouldn’t bother killing our younger selves why is he here?” She said seeing the man in the dark black cloak. “He said he just needed us gone for an hour, why is he here?”
“He’s the asshole who sent you back, let’s go capture him then.” Your Bakugo got up and but was stopped by himself.
“You’re a child, I’m not letting myself go out there and die.”
“Let go of me old man.” The tension between the two was thick enough to cut through. But there were bigger issues at hand here. The sound of the villain prowling the street, a menace ready to attack.
“You two are staying fucking put.” Bakugo’s older self-looked tired, it was in his eyes, you could see it, the years getting to the pro hero but at the sight of your older self running out, he followed.
Bakugo tried to get up but you put your arm out to stop him, “wait.”
“Y/n, I’m not letting our future selves die out there.” He grumbled swatting your hand away.
“I want to see how they work together, how we work together.” Of course you and Bakugo had fought alongside each other, but watching them, it would show the progress, your aim and how far you had gotten.
“Hiding your younger selves won’t help you both.” The villain remarked, his hand in the ready with a knife.
She grabbed a hold of him with her quirk smashing him into a wall. The way he indented the wall showed you the sheer amount of strength you had with your quirk. Your ability to not only move him with your hand but also put enough force onto the wall to break around him.
Bakugo’s hands turned yellow, you could almost see the power seethe from him, your own looking at himself, watching intentively at how his explosions had become bigger and bigger in his palm. Even without the gauntlets he had power, an excessive amount that fuelled his rage. He began to attack whilst she remained on defence, but the villain just skimmed past the explosion charging at her.
She grabbed the discarded bricks from the floor bringing your hands up to make them float and tried to encase him, but his pure strength outweighed her own as you could see him nearing her through the window. You ran out, Bakugo running with you as the four of you stood. “I told you to brats to stay inside.” His older version shouted, fire fulling him as he attacked the man who neared you. Your own allowed his quirk to activate and this in turn led to fire and explosions burning the street at how both tried to stop the villain.
You ran up to the older woman, she looked at you with care, “I’m going to teach you something.” She grabbed your hands, and you could feel a warmth from between your fingers. “Think of the rubble, the discarding bricks, anything that has broken off Y/n.”
You did so staring into her eyes, the pools of depth seeping out as she spoke with such confidence. “Keep thinking about it.” You did, thinking of the fallen rubble and discarded bricks and when you opened your eyes, it was up in the air. Both your quirks coming together to allow for it all to surround you both. You both saw the two boys hit the villain missing the reckless knife and knew that the villain was out of breathe from the force of it all.
But now there was you two, and in an instant, she shouted at you, “push it all onto him.” You followed through, everything felt heavy under the movement of your fingers, you could see her own becoming ashy and scarred but she kept a hold of the majority of the weight. You felt the weight of it all and as you pushed it onto the villain, Bakugo’s older self grabbing him to move out of the way. The villain became trapped onto the wall, the two boys came up to you both as they both went to their respective partner. “Are you okay?”
It was in unison and they both grabbed your hands, the ash and spilt skin between your fingers was evident. The action was the same and you knew it would never change, your older self turned to face you both as she glared. “You shouldn’t have come out but thank you.”
“You both did okay, it doesn’t mean anything though, you’ve both got far to go.”
“Shut it old man.” Your Bakugo grinned out, his arm around your shoulder lazily.
His older self tilted his head back in a chuckle before grabbing her hand. “We’re running out of time.”
“But we still have so many questions.” You were hesitant to ask before but now working alongside the two pro heroes you wanted to know more.
“We’ve got two minutes make it fast.” They both walked towards the villain, grabbing the unconscious body from the side. The excessive heat from both the Bakugo’s had caused fires and you could hear the police and heroes come to see the scuffle. Walking into an alleyway, you both stood in front of your selves.
“I guess I only have one question.” You looked at Bakugo and he looked back at you, his hand resting on your shoulder bringing warmth to you.
“Are we happy?” Bakugo held you tighter and the two smiled at you.
His older self began talking, kicking the villain to make him shut up. “There’s ups and down, a lot more to come but we’re happy, aren’t we?”
“We are.” He smiles at her, love in his eyes, even after 10 years of being together there was still love and adoration for her. It was something Bakugo had for you, but it had intensified along the years. It was almost too beautiful, there eyes on one another, how perfectly they fit together, it was perfect.
“Well I guess this is goodbye, have fun and…” You trailed off as Bakugo’s older self interrupted.
“Don’t do anything stupid, and wear a con…” Before he could finish the three disappeared and you and Bakugo were left alone in the alleyway. A confusion between the two of you as you both walked out of the alleyway.
“That was weird.” You muttered grabbing the boys palms.
“You’ve got that right, stupid old man bossing us about.”
“Did you just indirectly call yourself stupid?” You laughed as he rolled his eyes.
“Whatever at least I know your mine forever now.” He spoke softer, something he did when around you as you both walked through the street. The darkness around you as you had walked the opposite direction of where the fire had occurred.
“You’re such a sap.” You chuckled tilting your head backwards, he saw how strong you’d become, and it lightened a fire in how you both were so utterly in love, a perfect pro hero couple.
He held your hand tighter giving a glare, “you’re the fucking sap, baby.”
“Let’s watch the stars.” You hummed having ignored the comment and dragging him up the hill where you could lay on the grass and look right up to the sky.
“Yeah, yeah.” He held your hand tighter before you dropped to the ground and he sat beside you. You laid down looking at that the speckles of white throughout the hues of black and blue. A sight to the say the least and as you stared at the sky all he could do was stare at you. His girl, his love, his future.
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Falling for you ( Falling from Grace) Jungkook x OC
Summary : Friends with benefits? Or maybe Enemies who just happen to be each other’s best fuck? Areum and Jungkook love driving each other crazy, but also can’t keep their hands off each other.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
Chapter 7
“A two hour lunch break and a limp? You’ve been busy , I see.....” Hobi remarked mildly , when I slinked back to my desk, thighs still shaking .
I winced when I sat down, glaring at him.
“I sprained my ankle....” I snapped, internally cringing at the ridiculous lie.
“While riding his dick? How did that happen?? ” Hoseok rolled his eyes and before I could pretend to be properly outraged he continued, “ No matter.... i want you to compile those memos from last week and write up the report for last week’s meeting. The minutes are in the file.”
I didn’t particularly enjoy my job or hate it. It was just something I did to make money and I was fine with that. As a kid I’d had some vague dreams of being a photographer and while I did occasionally take my camera out to click candids of my family or the occasional cherry blossom tree, it wasn’t a major component in my life.
Or at least, it hadn’t been, for the two and half years I’d worked here. Right about the time I started sleeping with Jungkook. I stared at the screen, feeling myself drown in the redundant words. It wasn’t that I didn’t imagine a life with Jungkook.....but... I wasn’t sure if we would work well, as a couple. I had never been on a date with him , never met each other for anything that didn’t end in mutually ( enjoyable ) orgasms and just.... most of the time we did piss each other off incredibly.
But I could feel the clock ticking....I wasn’t really a co ed anymore, was I? There was more to a relationship than just sex and ... I wanted it. Of course I did....
I couldn’t spend the rest of my life doing this with Jungkook. But I couldn’t for the life of me, imagine not doing this with him.
And in the wake of that thought came the thought I had always avoided.
What if I could have both? What if I could have the dirty , raunchy , mindblowing sex , along with the Sunday brunches, picnics in the park and skinny dipping in the pool at midnight?
What if, possibly, Jungkook could be the one I had dinner with on a Friday night? What if he was the one I woke up to everyday, made pancakes for and with, smearing flour on each other’s noses as we chased each other around the kitchen in our PJs?
Fuck.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jungkook was busy for a couple of days with his training and I couldn’t get a chance to meet him . On the day before his supposed match, he told me he wanted to ‘unwind’ . Would I be kind enough to join him for the night?
I agreed,
My phone buzzed, just as I stepped out of the shower. I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous contact name that Jungkook had probably put in himself.
From Hungkook
You have an appointment tonight m’lady.
An appointment to ride this dick.
On my terms.
You’re gonna stay over right?
I scoffed at the last bit., When had it ever not been on his terms?? I ran the towel through my hair before carefully coating my fingers with lotion and threading them through the damp strands.
~~~~
From me,
When did you change your fucking contact name , dickhead. Yes, I’ll stay over and we’re meeting at 7.00 PM right?? Will you pick me up?
~~~~
From Kook,
Wasn’t me.... must’ve been you subconsciously. Don’t tell me you aren’t thinking about how big I am, all the fucking time.
I’m still setting stuff up. Get a cab. Or I can send my chauffeur if you want?
~~~~
From me,
No. I’ll drive myself over.
~~~~
From Kook,
Wear something easy to take off. c u.
~~~~
Jerk, I thought fondly. Staring at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but feel incredibly vulnerable. I wanted to talk to Jungkook about us. And I would.... eventually. When I felt ready enough....
For tonight, I would indulge him. .
I had gone the extra mile today, soaked in the tub for a whole hour so my skin was completely imbibed with the scent of strawberries and cream, with little whiffs of lavender. The body scrub had done its job and my skin fairly glowed, plump and soft.
I decided to forego makeup, only putting on the barest minimum : some gloss and a moisturizing spray. I grabbed the short kimono style dress from the closet, slipping it on without anything underneath.
I stared at myself from all angles, just to make sure I was still decent. Not that it would matter. Jungkook’s condo had a private elevator that no one but he used . Perks of owning the entire apartment complex , I guessed. I hesitated before rummaging through the small jewelry box I kept hidden in the back of the closet.
It had a small necklace, the only gift I’d ever accepted from Jungkook. I stared at the small , pendant : a small heart with the words, JK’s engraved on it. It had been a gag gift, meant to aggrieve me during one of our ridiculous spats. But i traced the words and wondered why the prospect of belonging to him didn’t feel quite as infuriating as it used to .
Slipping it on, I quickly grabbed my wallet and keys.
Well, time to get this show on the road. ‘
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jungkook opened the door, freshly showered, dressed in a white linen shirt, a few sizes too big and opened half way through. As always, a glimpse of his gorgeous face was all it took for arousal to pool in the pit of my stomach. I smiled at him.
“Hi.” I grinned.
He stared at me for a second taking a deep breath.
“Jesus, you smell fucking delicious....What is that?” He groaned, grabbing my wrist and tugging me in. I followed him to the dining space, blinking when I saw the two small glasses of wine.
“Ooh...fancy. Looks like you’re looking to spoil someone tonight. “ I teased.
“Yeah, just had my girlfriend over. You must’ve run into her on the way up.” He winked and I shook my head, laughing as I grabbed one, taking a small sip.
“So....? Should we get started....”
Jungkook hummed, grabbing the satin ribbon tie that held my dress together and tugging on it gently. I kept my eyes trained on his face , just so I wouldn’t miss the look on his face when the fabric fell apart.
He didn’t disappoint.
Doe eyes widened in shock, lips parting in a sharp little exhale as he stared at me, completely naked in the golden spool of light, cast by the small chandelier overhead.
“Oh fuck.....is that...?” He lightly pulled the pendant at the base of my throat, staring at the inscription.
“Thought it may turn you on....” I shrugged. Jungkook’s eyes ran up and down my body and I felt an inordinate thrill at how open he was with how much he enjoyed looking at me, even though it was far from the first time.
“That’s my biggest weakness, darling......I’m always turned on for you...” He grinned , winking.
“So should we go open that toy box of yours?” I prompted when he stepped closer.
“Hmm... Not like this. “ He grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off his torso before carefully slipping it on me. “ I can’t concentrate if you’re standing here without clothes on.”
The linen shirt, big on Jungkook’s broad frame , practically swallowed me up, hanging somewhere near my knee. I watched the way his pupils dilated when he stared at me.
“Fuck... you in my clothes.... This may be worse than you being naked...” He said, sounding slightly strangled.
I flicked his forehead playfully.
“I’m beginning to think you’re just stalling.... ” I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Nope, just thinking of a couple of drawings I could make with this particular shirt on you.”
I felt my insides quiver as I remembered the art and the very enjoyable time I’d had seeing all of it.
“If you hurry up , I may model for you. “ I said casually and Jungkook froze.
“Better not joke about that, Areum...” He said harshly.
“Well, what if I’m not?”
“Are you?”
“Only one way to find out.” I smiled, yelping when his arms shot out, wrapping around my thighs and throwing me over his shoulder as he stalked over to the bedroom.
I whined because his shoulder blades dug into my tummy , feeling slightly dizzy from all the blood rushing to my head.
I stumbled a bit when he set me down , blinking to orient myself. I stared around at the room, my throat going dry.
The bed was covered in satin sheets in a rich shade of burgundy . The entire room was lit only from the backlight in the bedframe, low and demure as it lit parts of the bed while the rest of room stayed plunged in darkness. An ornate table stood right next to the bed with what looked like a hundred or so sex toys and I flushed red, my face heating up.
I felt my heart begin to pound inside me.
It was so foreign, this desperate sort of anticipation, something I didn’t usually feel because this was Jungkook and I knew him ....knew his body better than my own.
“Well, since you wanted to pick the toys we’d use today....”
“No.” I whispered softly.
“What?”
I turned to him , smiling before carefully walking over to the bed and climbing on. I crawled to the center before carefully sitting down on my heels, kneeling.
“You can pick.” I shrugged.
Jungkook stared at me thoughtfully.
“You’re joking.” He said softly.
“I trust you.” I replied.
His eyes widened, lips parting. He licked his lips, before tugging his lower lip between his teeth.
“Really? You trust me?” He asked, looking incredibly skeptical.
“I do. “
“Trust that I ....?”
“That you won’t hurt me.”
“Hmm... I’ve gone soft on you haven’t I? Haven’t left bruises on that perfect body in a while... “ He said casually and I felt my heart jerk a little.
Earlier in our relationship, Jungkook had always skirted the edge of too much, sometimes leaving marks and bruises that lingered for weeks after our sexcapades. And he was right...we had toned it down the past few weeks,
“Even then...You never did anything I didn’t want.” I pointed out.
He smiled.
“That’s true... my pretty little slut, you wanted every single one of those bruises, didn’t you?”
I nodded.
“I did...”
“So , I can just go pick any toy I want and you’ll let me put it on you....? In you?” He prompted.
“I trust you.” I said again.
He narrowed his eyes at me before moving slowly to the table. I stared back, holding his gaze as I watched him carefully pick up something from the table.
My heart dropped when I saw the small flogger, his ivory fingers curling on the handle as he carefully, swatted the inside of his other palm with it.
“You sure you’re up for this?” He brought the flogger down on the bed with enough force to make the sheets crackle and the noise was so sharply frightening that I couldn’t help but jump a little. I flinched so bad, my lips wobbled.
He watched the way I was shaking and scoffed.
“Thought so, fragile little thing like you could never--”
“Yes.” I snapped, willing myself to stay calm. “Yes.”
Jungkook’s gaze snapped to mine.
“Color?”
I swallowed, trying to get my senses together. I calmed myself down, trying to think rationally instead of impulsively.
“Green.” I whispered.
He hummed.
I watched as he grabbed a small vibrator , holding it up for me to see., I shrugged,
“I told you ...I trust you. Looks like you don’t trust yourself... What’s the matter, Jeon, too chicken to be a real man? “ I whispered.
His gaze narrowed dangerously.
He moved briskly to the table and grabbed things quickly. I bit my lips as I saw the nipple clamps, the small whip, the handcuffs and the pinwheel among other things.
I pulled my gaze away from the toys and stared at him.
“If anyone can make me enjoy those things...its you.” I whispered and his eyes softened visibly.
“Fuck...don’t say shit like that....” He whispered.
I laughed a little, nodding.
“Okay. “ I agreed.
He grabbed a small strip of cloth from the table and held it up between his hands.
“I’m going to put this on you first. “
I nodded, as familiar with the thick, satiny length of it as i was with my own skin. Jungkook sometimes liked using it to tie my wrists together , especially when he intended to take his time.
i held my hands out but he shook his head, holding it up and then placing it over my eyes.
I faltered a little when my vision went black, swallowing as the scent of his bodywash hit me, his body just a few inches away and the urge to touch was so strong , my mouth watering with the urge to run to my lips all over his delectable body.
He finished tying the fabric at the base of my skull and pulled away. I felt the bed dip as he moved away.
“ Take that shirt off.”
I grabbed the hem and stripped quickly, tossing the shirt aside.
“Lie down. On your back.”
I nodded before doing just that, letting my arms rest on the side, palms facing up.
The sound of the flogger cracking through the air made me wince.
“You’ve ever been hit with one of these....” His voice came from somewhere to my right and I bit my lips, shaking my head.,
“Use your words doll....”
The nick name made me squirm.
“No.”
I jumped when I felt the soft strips of the blogger brush against my thigh, so gentle it felt like a kiss.
“Hmm.... I want you to stay quiet from now unless i ask you something and you will only say, yes or no. Got that?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
I felt like I was over heating, my body thrumming with anticipation.
“i don’t use it too often because I prefer my hands. Like bringing it down on the curve of your ass or maybe your thighs.....Nothing quite as satisfying as feeling that soft flesh give under your palm, hot and burning. And man the way the red just blooms on the surface when i pull away....addicting.”
His fingers closed over my thigh and squeezed.
I jerked a bit.
“It hurts at first....but it also feels good. A good , fiery burn that makes you feel alive .... that makes your skin thrum with life....and after the tenth hit, the pain is so numbed down that your mind only experiences the pleasure ..... “
I bit my lips to stop myself from saying anything.
“The pinwheel is what really hurts.” I felt the sharp prick of it on my cheek, and i jerked back a bit., “ It’s very sharp and precise....like the stab of a hundred needles on your body...I like using it between the thighs....You know, right on that swollen little nub in the middle.... usually makes the girl lift right off the bed....”
He chuckled .
I was panting a bit, every word translating into a phantom touch on my body. Although he was only saying it, my body seemed to experience it physically.
I felt the air shift around me, and then the familiar press of him body on mine, my arms instinctively shooting up to grip him as he straddled my waist, his hands grabbing my wrists and yanking them away. He pushed my hands up against the headboard, and I felt his breath right against my neck, feather light kisses that traced a path up to my ear and then he gently blew air against my earlobe.
“And man, the vibrator is my favorite.” His voice was low and deep, whispering dirty, right into my ear and I clenched around nothing, feeling wet and empty as he went on, “ I’d leave it right up against your clit while I eat you out, two of my fingers fucking into your sweet little cunt, tongue lapping up that sweet , sweet slick of yours..... Fucking delicious , makes me want to bury my face into it.... fuck.....baby, i could eat you out for hours.... “
I choked out, struggling to get my hands free, desperate to feel him, desperate to feel him inside me .
“I would eat you out so good but I wouldn’t let you cum.”
I felt my heart drop.
“Please Jungkook-”
“Uh-uh-uh....Nope...” Jungkook muttered.” Don’t want you begging so soon baby.,... we haven’t even started yet...Didn’t I tell you not to say anything till I asked you to? What's the matter baby, you like hearing what I want to do to you? Doesn’t it make you wet...make you want to fuck yourself on my cock?”
I bit my lips, trying to regulate my breathing , bucking up into his hardness as he rolled his hips into mine. I kicked out , trying to dislodge him, just a little bit so I could feel him where i wanted and he grunted when my heel hit his shin.
I whined when his fingers tightened on my wrists, hard enough to make the bones grind together. Pain shot up my forearm and I whimpered when a hand wrapped around my throat, gentle but with the threat of force behind it.
“Stop fucking wiggling and listen to me. “ He snapped and I froze.
“If I eat you out.... turn the vibrator up, and then tell you to not cum till i ask you to.....Can you do that?”
“Yes.” I sobbed out,
He grinned.
“Really baby? No protests? You’ve never let me edge you before....I wonder what’s changed?” He whispered.
“Trust you.” I whispered and his breath caught again.
“You trust me that much?”
“Yes.”
“Trust me when I say if you cant hold it off...if you cum without my permission, well....that’s when I’m gonna get the fucking whip.”
My body screamed in protest at the very thought of it.
“Well? “ He demanded, squeezing down on my throat just a bit. “ Still trust me?”
I felt the first gush of tears, feeling my heart thud against my ribs. All i could think about was Jungkook’s face when he’d held me that day, when Junho had hurt me. The way his eyes had flooded with tears at the sight of me hurt and it was absolutely laughable....the idea that Jeon Jungkook would somehow choose to hurt me voluntarily.
“Trust you.”
For a few seconds, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t move either.
“Should we get started then?”
“Okay.” I whispered.
I felt a pang of loss when he moved up and off my body, and I blinked against the blindfold, trying to ground myself. Fear and arousal made me disoriented , my mind struggling to decide whether I was enjoying this or not.
I heard the crack of the flogger again and screwed my eyes shut.
“You ready?” , the bristles traced up my leg, from my feet right up to the top of my thighs.
I took a deep shuddering breath.
“Yes.”
I bit my lips, bracing myself for the hit.
It never came.
Instead, all i felt was the gentle brush of lips against my brow, and then against my cheek, soft, feather light kisses , peppered across my jaw and down my neck. I gasped as his lips parted slightly, opening and closing on the soft skin, suckling gently for just a second before his tongue followed, soothing the slight sting.
I licked my lips , gasping when his fingers fluttered up and down my arm, so gentle that I wanted to cry.
“I like the idea of taking you apart...., having you tremble with anticipation because you’re scared of what I’d do next , but you know what I like more, Areum?”
Fingers lightly gripped my wrist, pulling them up till my hands rested on his shoulders.
“Jungkook?”
“I like it when you touch me. I like it when you’re trembling, not because you’re scared or worried but because you’re feeling good....because I’m making you feel good.”
I smiled despite myself.
“Can i touch you?” I whispered.
“You don’t ever have to ask...” He breathed against my lips, and i surged up to kiss him. Letting my fingers drop down to tug at the hardened length of him. I ran a finger over the tip, mouth watering at the mound of precum leaking out of him, enough for me to get my palm wet , so I could stroke him without any abrasive friction.
He growled , rolling over me and nipping sharply at my neck, before pressing a quick kiss to my lips.
“Gonna eat you out. “ He growled and i grinned.
“No vibrator?” I teased and he grunted, already crawling down my body.
“Don’t need it.... Gonna make you cum just with my tongue.”
I let my head fall back against the pillows as he grabbed my hips, lifting my waist up before shoving a couple of pillow underneath.
“Bend your knees and spread your thighs for me angel.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to my ankle and I nodded quickly, doing just that. I dug my heels into the soft sheets.
“You want to me to get the vibrator?” He bit my thighs lightly and I jumped.
“Not really....” I breathed out .
Warm wetness closed over my center and I gasped, fingers reaching down to grip his hair .
“Gonna ride my face , baby?” He laughed against my slit, tongue tracing the seam with soft little kitten licks and I groaned.
He lost no time, slipping two fingers straight into me, parting them in a V and licking into the gap, tongue pushing into me with the kind of ease that came from doing something you loved, something you enjoyed doing.
Pleasure shot straight up my spine rendering me boneless, my limbs turning to jelly as he used his thumb to gently run circles on my clit, all the while licking into me, tongue curling inside me, pushing against my walls and lapping up the wetness like it was the sweetest drink he’d ever had.
And nothing was a bigger turn on than how much he seemed to be enjoying it and i found myself falling apart embarrassingly fast. I felt my thighs start to tremble and Jungkook hugged against me, slipping another finger in, the fit now tight and I whimpered when he curled his fingers inside me, fingers tips reaching back to nudge the spot the usually sent me spiraling off the edge.
“Don’t want you to cum yet,....hold off for me.... “ He whispered suddenly, squeezing in a fourth finger and I blacked out when my orgasm hit before I could even try to stop it, clenching down on his fingers so tight that he couldn’t even move them , my muscles screaming as I gripped the duvet under my fingers.
“I ....” i couldn’t form words.
“Thought I told you not to cum.” He said softly, somewhere over me.
I swallowed.
“You... You did it on purpose ...you... fuck...”
“Did what on purpose...” He was laughing a little, and I mewled a little when his fingers rubbed on my clit again, thumb dipping into me playfully.
“Told me to not cum just before you.... Oh fuck” I choked out when he slipped his fingers right back in, and my body screamed in protest , the overstimulation making my eyes water.
“Sould i get the whip as promised?” He laughed and I froze.
“I would let you, you know. “ I said softly.
He didn’t respond but he did draw his fingers out of me. I let my legs drop down to the bed and waited for him to say something but he didn’t , so I continued, stammering a bit.
“It’s not the kind of thing i would want in general...” I admitted, “ But I didn’t like half the things we do now, once. You’re... you’re my kink.” I chuckled, feeling a bit like i was laying myself bare .
“Areum...”
“Its you...anything that makes you feel good is what makes me feel good... I love the way your eyes darken when you tie me up...The way you always want to hold me down with a little more force than necessary and the way you sometimes , purposely leave me handcuffed in a way that makes it hurt..... and its not because I’m a masochist or because i love pain but i just... I like doing it for you. “ I admitted.
I waited for him to say something, and the silence made me nervous. Had I said too much? Had I made him uncomfortable? Oh God, did he think it was too weird?
I opened my mouth, ready to apologize for making things weirds, but before I could , the blindfold came off and I blinked , confused to see him hovering over me.
“I...” He looked like he was shaking.
“Jungkook?” I asked, confused, hand reaching up to grip his cheek, concern blooming inside me because of how scared and terrified he looked.
“You.... You...What you said...” He was definitely shaking,
“I’m sorry.” I said softly. “ I didn’t mean to imply I didn’t like it..I just want you to know that I’m open to doing new things with you and you don’t have to hold yourself back......”
"Fuck .,.. Areum.. I...” He closed his eyes, laughing a little.
Genuinely worried, I brushed my thumb across his cheek in worry.
“Hey...what’s wrong?” I asked gently.
His eyes fluttered open and he stared right at me.
“I think I’m in love with you.” He whispered.
My breath got knocked right out of my lung and i gasped out loud, my mind turning to complete mush.
“I-uh...whu-buh???” I said intelligently and he laughed.
“Fuck.. i didn’t... I didn’t mean to blurt that out.. I...”
I grabbed him before he could move away, tugging his gorgeous face closer to mine.
“Did you mean that?” I croaked out, my voice raw from shock.
He stared at me doe eyes wide and open and so damn vulnerable.
“Uh...yeah.. I... “
“you stupid fucking bastard...” i choked out, raising myself up to capture his lips with mine. He groaned as he kissed back, lips opening beneath mine and tongue slipping into my mouth with the practiced familiarity of a thousand kisses behind us ad it was so amazing, how incredibly new and exciting this felt, when we had done it so many times.
I found myself grinning into the kiss as I slipped my fingers into his hair, tugging on the thick dark locks , to pull him away for a second.
“Can i take you out on a date?” I panted and he was grinning from ear to ear.
“Yeah.... Yeah... you can.”
I smiled and bit my lips, tears spilling out before i could stop myself.
“I love you so fucking much...” I whispered and he brushed his thumbs across my cheek, wiping away the dampness.
“So fucking sappy.....” He said fondly. “ Now , tell me....can I fuck you....?”
I shook my head.
Jungkook’s face fell, lips jutting out in a pout and I pressed a finger against his lips when he began to protest.
“You can’t fuck me....but you can make love to me. If you even know how.”
His gaze softened.
“I’ve always made love to you Areum.... I may have been rough but I never had anything but affection for you when I touched you.”
I couldn’t help but trace my fingers over his features, taking in the handsome curves and ridges of his face.
“ I know...but I’d still like to do it gently. Sometimes.”
He nodded.
“Anything for my gorgeous girlfriend.” He pecked my nose.
My heart leapt right up at that.
I could get used to being called that.
I wrapped both my legs around him, drawing him closer.
“How do you want it?” He whispered.
“Just you... inside. “ I rubbed my nose against his as he nodded.
He barely let me catch my breath before lining himself right up against me and sliding right in and this time, I got to hold his gaze as he slid home, saw exactly how it affected him, how pleasure hit him, hard and fast as he sank into my warmth.
“Oh fuck...” He whispered .
“Fuck me slow.... like you have all the time in the world.” I demanded, slipping my fingers in his hair and gripping hard and he grunted, gripping my waist and squeezing hard enough to bruise .
“ As you wish.” He moved his hands up to shape my breasts, thumb brushing my nipples till the nubs perked right up and I groaned when he bent over and took one of them into his mouth, all the while sliding in and out of me at a tortuously slow pace.
"I'm glad we skipped over the part where we deny our feelings.." I whispered against his lips and he grinned.
"I've never denied shit. If you remember..... This whole sex only business was entirely your idea....I asked you on a date two years ago...."
I flushed.
" I thought you were mocking me."
He shook his head , gripping me close and rolling us over so I was on top. Taking the cue, I dug my knees into the duvet and gripped his shoulders, biting my lips at the new angle .
" No , You thought I was a fuckboy..... I wasn't and I knew that I would have to work hard to prove it to you. "
"Prove that you weren't a fuckboy?"
"Prove that just because I liked sex doesn't mean I don't care about anything else.....Prove that, yes, I wanted to fuck your brains out but i also wanted to hold your hands and lick ice cream off your nose...." He rolled his hips into me and I moaned.
“Well, thank you for that. Point taken . “ I choked out.
He hummed and jugged the chain on my neck, fingers lightly tracing the inscribed JK’S.
“ So this is official?” He grinned.
I rolled my eyes.
“I belong to no one.” I said loftily and he responded my moving his hips just a little too harsh on the next thrust, making me yelp in surprise.
“This feels good...” He kissed the tip of my nose.
“Nothing like good old vanilla sex after a heartfelt confession. “ I hummed.
“But just so you know, we are definitely. playing with my toys someday.”
I gave his ear a sharp tug.
“Stop ruining the moment and fuck me.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR’S NOTE : See.... not a smidgen of angst to be seen anywhere :D :D :D Please leave feedback I’m thirsty for it :’(
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@jincentvangogh
@unicornbabylover
@ggukkieland
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#jeon jungkook#jungkook fics#jungkook smut#bts au#bts smut#bts fics#bts scenarios#jungkook au#jungkook fic#jungkook friends to lovers#jungkook friends with benefits au#bts smut fic#bts fanfics
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I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.
Pairing: Wanda x Reader
Genre: Angst if you squint really hard. Fluff to make up for Marvel reminding me that Nat is dead.
Description: The falling in love of Wanda Maximoff and you. (If anyone has a better description please hit me up.)
Notes: Was going to be a one-shot and then it didn’t happen so there’s going to be a second part. It’ll probably happen in like a month though since I have a trip. Comments always appreciated. :)
- - -
You’re not sure when it happened. To be fair, neither is Wanda.
You had just started with SHIELD, and were there for the battle with Ultron, and then when Wanda became an Avenger. You remember the admiration you held for her, for her powers, for her determination to do what was right, her grit. Now, it was more of a well-deserved respect. Her strength when everything else in her life seemed to be gone, her brutal honesty regarding matters important to her, and her loyalty to those she cared about.
Maybe that’s when it started. As an exemplary agent, you could handle most things Fury assigned you, but being an Avenger? That was a whole new battleground. One that Wanda had your six on. From simple things, like showing you around the compound, and looking for you when you inevitably got lost (again). Wanda with her no frills attitude and sharp tongue, lashing out at Fury himself when he assigned you your 6th mission in 4 days. Wanda with her soft smiles that made your stomach flip and whispered jokes when she noticed your anxiousness on a mission. It wasn’t easy, keeping up with super soldiers, spies with years of experience on you, actual gods, but Wanda made it simple.
- - -
Wanda sometimes wondered if she could really be a hero. She wasn’t a good person. She had done terrible things. Then you stumbled in, a fresh agent and an even fresher Avenger, but you looked at her with no distrust. A little lost perhaps, but no malice. That confused SHIELD agent? It reminded her of, well, her. It may have been under different circumstances, but in essence, they were the same. Thrust into a world of avenging, knowing no one, knowing nothing. So she threw you a line, offered her support when you looked like you needed it. Wanda expected a bite, but she didn’t expect a tug back. The way you offered to help her practice her powers (a little naively), and then when you realised your mistake, your offer to teach her the hand to hand combat you had learned from SHIELD. The way you always looked back for her on a mission, even when you knew she could protect herself with said powers. You were on her team, a comfort she didn’t have since Pietro died. Okay well the Avengers were also her team, but you were her person, always in her corner.
- - -
It shouldn’t be this easy. Sometimes it felt like you could read each other’s minds. To be fair, Wanda could read your mind, but you knew she wouldn’t do it without your permission. Still, there was something about your unspoken agreements that came so naturally. Where everyone else was on comms, it was like the pair of you were tuned to the same wavelength, communicating in a code not even Natasha could decrypt.
“You just get me, you know?” Wanda says, as the two of you are sprawled on her bed after a mission. “It’s like our brains are, I dunno, smooshed together or something. Not even Vision feels like this, and we’re literally connected by an Infinity Stone in his head.”
“Smooshed together?” you laugh. “What an insightful description. And I can’t believe you just compared me to that toaster. I’m obviously way better than him.”
“You realise he can shoot lasers right?”
“And I can turn on a laser on the sights of my guns. Sit down, you’re not special.”
This earns you a giggle. “But it’s like you’re in my brain.”
“Oh so I’m always on your mind?”
“Shut up Y/N/N.”
“Maybe your powers are rubbing off on me,” you joke, wiggling your fingers in her face.
“I do not look like that,” cries Wanda indignantly. “And if you have my powers, what am I thinking about right now?”
“Stealing Sam’s cupcakes,” you reply with no hesitation.
“I was actually thinking about how I hope Steve never reassigns mission partners,” she says pointedly. “But now that you mention it, I could really do with a cupcake.”
“I was right then?” you tease, tugging her towards the kitchen with a cheeky grin.
Wanda rolls her eyes at you, but she mirrors your grin and your stomach is swooping again.
“For the record, you’re my favourite mission partner too.”
- - -
Wanda didn’t expect to call the compound home. She stayed because she had nowhere else to go. And with her differences with Stark and the friendly but still guarded manner of the other Avengers initially (though she didn’t blame them), she kept to herself. But you were different. She noticed the way you prioritised her, looked out for her, to the best of your ability.
She’s shaken from nightmare and automatically, her feet lead her towards you. It’s late, she knows, but when she knocks on your door, you open with an easy smile and open arms that envelop her gently. When her sobbing subsides, you break away, wiping the tear tracks with your thumb.
“Dick van Dyke?” you ask.
Nodding wordlessly, Wanda lets you lead her your bed and settles in beside you.
That’s when she notices the stacks of files illuminated by your desk light.
“Sorry,” she sniffles, throat raw from crying, “did I interrupt you?”
“Oh those?” you say, waving dismissively at your desk. “Maria’s just been on my back lately to get those done, but it’ll be fine.”
With a stab of guilt, she makes to move of the bed, but you grab her wrist before she can. “Don’t worry about it, those can wait.”
As the TV murmurs softly in the background, you wrap a comforting hand around her, and she begins to drift off, nightmares warded away by your presence.
And she wakes up the next morning with the duvet pulled over her, and you slumped at your desk.
- - -
It was an easy mission. Most missions are when you and Wanda are paired together. Get in, get the data, get out. But then HYDRA agents were swarming the building, and intel definitely didn’t mention this level of security, and the exits were blocked off.
“I’m definitely gonna punch Tony later for this,” you groan, and Wanda shoots you a smile before returning to the approaching soldiers. Silently you whip around, firing rounds at the agents on the other end of the corridor. This was one of the many “plans” you had with Wanda, the endless missions allowing you to familiarise yourself with how your two fighting styles complimented each other. Being the enhanced out of you two, Wanda would push forward, handling the bulk of attacks with a flick of her wrist. You had her back, shooting at the stragglers who came from behind. Spotting something that resembled a server room, you gave a tug on her sleeve and she nodded, reassuring you that she had it handled.
Not wanting to leave Wanda for longer than necessary, you plug in the drive to do its Stark-tech thing and bolted back outside. To find the bodies slumped en masse on both end of the hallway.
“Guess you did have it handled,” you say, waving at the uniformed soldiers.
“Oh my god that isn’t even a good pun,” the witch replies, before continuing with a smirk. “But yes, I am way more powerful than you.”
“Don’t think that was ever in question,” you say, but then alarms were blaring, and the building plunges into a red glow and then oh my god there’s a gun behind Wanda and before you knew what was happening, a shot had fired from your gun and there was a burning pain in your shoulder.
The brunette whirls around just as you collapse into the wall. “Guess you’re not as an amazing shot as I am though,” you mutter, before blacking out.
- - -
To say Wanda was in a state of panic was an understatement. It was more like a whole damn continent. As much as she reassured you before missions, your easygoing, playful attitude was her anchor in these intense situations. Everywhere felt like home, like you two bickering on the couches. Your constant presence was like bringing a piece of the compound with her. And regardless of her experience as an Avenger, as an ex-agent, you were undoubtedly better with running missions. Not everything was a save the world type threat after all.
Eyes darting around, Wanda noted that you had indeed shot the last agent, before skimming across your bleeding out form.
The training doors opened with a bang and Wanda turned to the noise. Then she found herself pinned to the floor.
“Stay focused on the mission,” you scolded, before helping her back up.
The drive. You’d be pissed if she didn’t get it. Sprinting into the server room, she rips it from the port.
“Okay don’t laugh at me, but this is my hierarchy of the 3 Is.”
“Eyes?” Wanda asks.
“No, like the letter I. At the top is innocents, and they’re my priority. Steve says you can’t save everyone, but I can damn sure try. Next is the idiots. That’s the mission. ‘Cause I’d say you’re pretty damn stupid to go up against the Avengers. And finally we have Iron Man, or the heroes. As much as it’s going to hurt, we can’t let the sentiment get in the way. We all knew what we were signing up for, and I’m pretty sure all of us would rather it be us than someone else.”
“Thank you o wise one,” she mocks.
Wanda smiles a little at the memory, but tears pool at her eyes. Then she hears it, the faint footsteps pulling her back from her daze.
“Damn you and your stupid heart of gold,” she whispers, before flying the two of you back to the ship.
- - -
The steady beeping tugs you from slumber.
“Oh you’re up.”
You strain your neck to see Tony walking up with a bowl in his hands.
“You don’t sound very excited to see me Stark.”
“Not when I have to bring meals up here every day for Maximoff,” he says, pointing at the sleeping girl on the chair. “Hasn’t moved for days. Figured I’d hand deliver as an apology.”
“Aw did she punch you for me?”
“Worse,” he chuckled. “Gave me an earful.”
“I’d say you deserve it after that.”
He rubs his neck sheepishly. “Really, I’m sorry though. That was on me.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you smile. “I’ll be fine. And thanks for looking after her.”
Tony nods politely before leaving the meal and you two alone.
“It’s good to have you back kiddo,” he calls, before shutting the door.
Reaching an arm through the railing, you poke Wanda’s elbow.
“Meal delivery for Miss Maximoff?”
The curled up form stirs a little, rubbing her eyes, before freezing in shock.
“You’re back!”
“Apparently so,” you reply with a wry grin.
Wanda leans over the hospital bed, green eyes searching for any injuries.
“I missed you,” she murmurs.
“And you missed one-“
A slap hits you on your injured arm, and you hiss in pain.
“I’m not apologising for that one,” she glares.
Raising your good arm up in surrender, you pout. “Don’t I get a pity pass?”
“Not for worrying me like that.”
“But it wasn’t even my fault!”
She rolls her eyes (she seems to do that a lot at you some reason).
“Wait,” you frown, “we broke our perfect mission streak.”
“Are you kidding me right now?”
Then she’s hugging you, her nose pressed into your neck. Her soft brown hair cascades over your face like a waterfall, tickling your chin. Through your gown, you’re hyper-aware of the cool metal of the rings which adorn her fingers, how nice she smells, how right it feels to be held by her.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” she mumbles, her breath warming your neck, and your stomach is doing acrobatics. Even with the meds, you’re aware that this feels familiar, like something.
Pulling away, she studies your face. “Never. Do. That. Again.”
You laugh. “Glad we’re in agreement.”
It must be the meds, it must be.
#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda marvel#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff x you#scarlet witch#marvel#mcu
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Day 5 (6-17): Aged-up | Mother and son | Brothers
Warnings: near death experiences, drowning, canon typical violence, kidnapping
Note: I felt like I've written a lot of Dick and Damian bonding this week... So I'm switching it out with Jason. I had other things I wanted to write for this prompt, but it got too late at night to write something long. Enjoy this short, hurt/comfort Jason and Damian bonding instead <3
-o-o-o-o-
Damian's only been captured for a few hours... and already he feels more miserable than he has in a long time.
None other than the Penguin stands before him, sneering cheek to cheek as his associates finish tying the knots around chest and the damp wooden pole his back leans against. The sand underneath him is rocky and sharp; he can already feel the curious laps of the returning tide against his tailbone. His hands are restrained behind the pole as well, while his legs are tied by his ankles. He's sitting, and stuck sitting thanks to the rope around his chest.
His head aches, which isn't very surprising considering the thing that got him in this situation was a well placed hit to his skull via a brick.
He didn't mean to get caught. He simply wanted to blow off some steam after getting fed up with Jason while on patrol. Of all people to be paired up with, it had to be Jason. It couldn't have been someone Damian gets along with like Richard, Duke, or Cassandra. It couldn't have been Timothy where they at least know when boundaries are being pushed with their banter. It couldn't have even been Stephanie, where she's at least funny.
No, the entire family was there, and Damian got paired with the one he doesn't know how to deal with. He got annoyed by the constant, demeaning tone Jason would use on him, and after one too many backhanded insults that only Jason found funny, Damian snapped. He doesn't even remember what exactly was said, he just knows he yelled at Jason to go on without him, and Jason didn't stop him when he turned the other direction.
Thinking back on it, Damian probably insulted him back, and the reason he let Damian go was because he was just as annoyed as Damian was.
It doesn't matter now. What matters is that he didn't intend to stumble upon the Penguin and his goons in some warehouse by the coast. He was just going to take down a few classic muggers or something of similar nature and go back to Jason and act like the argument never happened.
He intended to go back and tell his father about the Penguin's actions, but he didn't notice a pigeon until he almost stepped on it. Startled, it flew up at his face and he fell backwards right through the already broken skylight. He barely managed to slow his fall with his grappling gun, but he still hit the ground pretty hard. Hurt and surprised, he didn't have time to even stand up before the brick was smashed against his skull.
And now he's here, under Gotham's docks, being tied to a poll while the Penguin laughs to himself.
"I'll just let the tide kill you for me," he says to himself, yet his idiot goons still cackle. Damian glares at them, but they only laugh harder, sending down their own insults until the ocean water begins to pool up to Damians toes.
The Penguin makes a remark that it's time to go, and that he doesn't want to get his new dress shoes messy, and then they're gone, leaving Damian to attempt to tug on the ropes holding him against the pole. He tries to reach for the small blades he keeps in the compartments of his gloves, but his fingers come away empty. Curse Gotham's Rogues and their ability to actually use their brains and disarm their captives when they get their hands on them.
He strains harder on the ropes now, twisting and trying to reach any knots with his fingers, but all he succeeds in doing is cutting off the circulation to his hands and pressing the rope into his chest.
He relaxes with a frustrated huff and glares at the water that's already risen a few inches to ripple close to his hips. He knows that not long from now, the water will be above his head.
For now, it's freezing, and once it reaches his fingers, escape will become all the more impossible thanks to numbing appendages.
He tugs on the ropes, then tugs some more, and he keeps going until he has to stop and let the blood come back to his fingers.
The water continues to rise, seeping through his suit and into his bones, rising to his fingers, then his arms, then his shoulders... It's when it finally touches his chin when the despair and terror finally settles.
He can't get out. He can't get out. The ropes feel no more loose than what they were when he began trying to undo them, and his fingers are so numb now they must be turning blue under his gloves. His jaw aches from his chattering teeth, and his nose is beginning to run.
He pulls desperately on his bonds now, his attempts to escape becoming more and more reckless the longer he sits here. He's hyper-aware of the movement of the water around him, and his panic is making it difficult to breathe.
Through his terror, he hears something. The motor of a bike. He hears the engine cut out nearby. He can probably shout for help.
It's his last hope. He can only pray that whoever came to the docks at this hour of night, that they are friendly. He opens his mouth to yell for assistance, but he chokes when sea water enters his mouth. He scrambles his bound feet against the rocky sand, attempting to lift himself up the pole just a little higher, but he doesn't go anywhere. The ropes are too tight.
He's not sure if the water near his eyes is from him flailing in the water, or if it's because of frightened tears. Either way, he can feel the water tickling his nose, and he only has a split second to suck in one last breath of air before the water rises above any means to breath.
"Robin?" A deep voice shouts, and Damian could sob at the irony of it. "You here?"
Someone came looking for him, but they don't know where he is. He's going to drown under the feet of someone who could have saved him if they had come just minutes before.
The water rises over his head now, and he can no longer hear anything besides the racing of his heart. He can't feel his fingers or toes anymore, and he's sure he will drown with bruises under the ropes on his chest.
He's going to drown. He's going to die. His lungs hurt, already his oxygen is running out. He's panicking and it's cold and he's going to die-
He doesn't know how much longer he holds his breath, only that eventually, his mouth opens against his will and sucks in water that may as well be fire going into his lungs.
Black creeps into his vision... and with the last sight of dark bubbles erupting around him, he loses consciousness.
-o-o-o-o-
He wakes up vomiting. A strong hand wraps around his arm and holds him on his side so he can empty his lungs and stomach of salty sea water. It feels like his insides are being torn apart, but eventually it calms down a little so he can finally suck in a gasp of air.
The hand on his arm becomes two, snaking around his shoulder blades to sit him up and squeeze him against a broad chest.
"Holy shit," a familiar voice gasps, "Jesus fuck."
"J'son..." Damian murmurs, trying to make sense of what's going on. His throat feels abused, and his head pounds like drums. He's so tired, his eyes begin to drop.
"Nah don't you fucking think of it," Jason growls, pulling him away from his chest and giving him a hard shake. Damian blinks, trying to focus. Jason brings a hand up and brushes his dripping hair from his face.
Then, it all comes back to him. The tide... The water... He was drowning...
He thought he died.
But here he is, untied from the pole and on the docks, looking at Jason's bare and dripping face with his helmet castaway on the ground. He must have given him mouth-to-mouth... And his chest aches like he's taken a beating. Must be the combined bruises of the ropes and from chest compressions.
He's suddenly overwhelmed with emotions, all of his fear slamming right into him.
"You came," he croaks, not sure if it's because of his abused respiratory system or if it's because of his rekindled tears.
Jason's face twists, then he pulls Damian back in to squeeze him tightly once again. The hug is a surprise, and it hurts, but Damian doesn't fight it. He's too relieved and scared and confused and ashamed to fight it.
"When you didn't answer the comms, I thought you were still mad," Jason explains. The rumble of his voice in his chest against Damian's cheek is oddly relaxing. "But then it started getting late and I didn't feel right, so I asked Babs for your coords and- fuck- I thought I got you killed."
"How did you know...?" Damian asks, not willing to go further into the sentence and endure the pain of his throat.
Jason gives a laugh, and it's almost hysterical. "A lucky guess? I don't know, I guess it's just habit to look in the water when something goes wrong at the docks." There's a pause. Then Jason releases Damian once again. "I'm sorry. I said some things I shouldn't have. This wouldn't have happened if I kept my cool."
Damian shakes his head. It doesn't matter now. "You came."
Jason's lips twitch. "Of course I did. We're... Brothers. Even if we don't get along all the time, I still don't want anyone beating you up other than me."
Damian let's out a laugh, though it dissolves into a fit of coughs. Jason rubs his back during all of it, then once he calms down he helps him to his feet.
"C'mon," he says, "let's get you back home so Alfred can check on you. The sooner we get back, the sooner I can get getting yelled at out of the way for letting you go off on your own."
He helps Damian up to his feet, and Damian gratefully clutches to his jacket to steady himself. "I am to blame too. Once we tell father you helped save me, he will be less angry."
Jason snorts. "You think I'm worried about the old man? It's Dick I'm worried about."
"Ah," Damian grins, all the fear finally ebbing out from his system. "I'm afraid I cannot help you there."
Jason helps Damian onto the bike and returns his helmet so it's over his head. He holds Damian in front of him with one arm securely around his chest as he drives. He feels safe nestled against Jason like this. It's strong and unyielding. His relationship with the older man has always been strange, considering they weren't always on the same sides when Richard was Batman.
But this? This is safe. It's warm. Is careful and gentle. Normally he'd be embarrassed to be so vulnerable like this near Jason, but like Jason said... They're brothers.
He cannot help but feel a little disappointed once they finally make it back to the cave. Yet it seems he's misjudged Jason once again, because after he was rushed to the med-bay and Jason got an earful from Richard... he fell asleep and awoke the next morning with Jason still there.
Things may not be perfect with Jason, and they argue a lot, but Damians sure things have a chance of becoming better.
They're brothers, after all.
#damianwayneweek2021#damian wayne#Robin#jason todd#Red Hood#dc comics#fanfiction#jin writes#drowning tw#kidnapping tw
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