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fuckyeah-dragrace · 2 years ago

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It was a Bad Idea

So anyways, sorry not sorry about the angst but don’t worry, Boscos here to save the day and our hearts ♥️

————

It had been three days since Daya last saw Jasmine and she was a wreck. She couldn’t sleep, her stomach was in knots constantly, and she just didn’t feel like herself. Nothing felt right anymore. Her apartment was too dark, too quiet, too big.

Nothing felt right anymore and Daya knew why. She didn’t have that annoyingly loud laugh whenever she made a joke, she didn’t have that sweeter than honey smile when she came home. She couldn’t sweep the two most important people in the universe into her arms anymore. Daya just felt empty. She groaned and ran a hand through her hair.

“I really fucked up.”

“No shit, Betty.”

Daya whipped her head around to see Bosco sitting on the coach, one cat perched in her lap. The blonde was staring deadpan at the tall woman. Daya really didn’t want to know how Bosco got into her apartment, or why she decided to bring her cat. She scoffed and scratched at her skin, a nervous tick Bosco mentally noted as they stared Daya down.

“Shove off Bos.“

“Considering you’ve been AWOL for three days, don’t think I will.” Daya groaned and went to make a cup of coffee. Bosco got up from her seat, Tobi jumping from their lap and scurrying into Boscos room.

“Well I’m fine so you can go and have that date you’ve been so excited for.” Quiet noise filled the silence as Daya turned away from Bosco, not daring making eye contact.

“Hey just because you tanked your love life-“

“Shit!” Daya cursed. She yanked her hand away from the hot cup. She hissed and glared at the angry burnt skin. Bosco huffed and rolled their eyes.

“You dumbass.” They said, heading to a kitchen cabinet and grabbed a first aid kit above Dayas head. Bosco rubbed some kind of salve onto the burn, nose scrunching hearing Daya hiss and grunt. As Bosco started wrapping the gauze around Dayas hand, she couldn’t help but think back to how gentle Jasmine's hands were whenever she treated Daya. How she handled Daya like a piece of precious gemstone as her fingers danced across her skin, finishing everything with a kiss, as if that action alone healed whatever injury more than ointments and bandaids. Daya cracked a small smile as Bosco finished up. She leaned against the curly haired woman, her head against their shoulder. The familiar pit returned to her stomach as she began to sniffle. Bosco rubbed her hand on Dayas back as her tall body shook with sobs.

“Oh Daya.” Bosco sighed, pulling her into their arms, Daya only crying harder. The cries echoed through the apartment as Bosco comforted her as best they could.

“I fucked it up Bos.” Daya whimpered, her voice shaking with tear. “Just like I always do.”

“Hey,” Bosco prodded, their voice gentle. They pulled away from Daya, tilting the blonde’s head up. “Don’t say that. You don’t fuck things up Day.” Her hands run up and down Dayas shoulders, finally soothing her to a degree. The sobs turned to quiet sniffles as Bosco looked into Dayas eyes. They hated seeing their friend like this, so little and vulnerable when Daya was so strong.

“I really am a coward.” Daya said, her voice no longer quivering. Bosco pulled her into another hug, squeezing tightly around Dayas waist. They could feel Daya ball hands in her flannel, bunching the fabric tightly.

“Come on, couch time.” Bosco said, walking while holding onto Daya who followed behind, her head bowed low. Finally returning back to their spot on the couch with Daya leaning against them, eyes still sad and distant. The scene took Bosco back to college and rooming with Daya, how she’s come back from classes so fired up that she’d sit and rant to Bosco for hours on end. Of course Daya would extend the same courtesy to Bosco when their own mind got too jumbled and twisty, giving them a shoulder to cry on at whatever time of day. In a weird way, Bosco missed those days. They missed how simple everything seemed to be, go to class, go home and rant, maybe study and rinse repeat for what felt like forever.

“So, you loved Jasmine right?” Daya nodded her head limply. “And you loved Ava.”

“Yeah but what does-“

“Shut up, I'm working.” Bosco smiled hearing Daya huff, hoping it was a sign she was coming to her senses. “But you ended things with them, like a coward.”

“Some therapist you are.” Daya snarked quietly, crossing her arms as her brows furrowed. Bosco chuckled, feeling the gentle slap against their chest, knowing Daya was ready to talk now.

“You left them because,”

“Because I didn’t want to screw up.” Daya finished, staring off at the wall. Tobi jumped back onto the couch, nudging their head against Dayas bent knee. She sighed and instinctively brought her hand to the soft grey head, scratching gently behind the ear. “I didn’t see myself as good enough for them.” Daya could feel her chest tighten, finally admitting to the turmoil inside of her.

“Why would you think that?” Bosco asked, almost childlike in how direct it was. Thank god they took some psychology courses in college.

“I guess because I didn’t fit the ‘parent’ mold.”

“So you were scared of becoming a role model for Ava?”

“Yeah I guess.” Bosco huffed and rested her head against her hand, shaking it slowly. Daya turned to face the curly haired woman, eyeing them. “What?”

“If you were so worried about that then why didn’t you dump Jasmine in the beginning?” Daya knew Bosco as just trying to connect the dots but she couldn’t stop the quiet rage filling inside of her.

“I-“

“No, my turn.” Bosco said sharply, filly adjusting themselves to sit up tall, facing Daya head on. “You let that old fuckwads voice get loud in your head again. You were doing amazing with Ava and Jasmine.”

“Yeah it was pretty amazing.” Daya admitted quietly, the comforting warm wave washed over her as she remembered all of the time she spent with Ava and Jasmine. She couldn’t have been happier anywhere else, she was a completely different person with them, a better person.

“But the second things got really good, you listened to the fuckwad voice and let it destroy everything.” Bosco reached for Dayas hands and squeezed tightly. “Daya, you’re allowed to be happy. You deserve to be happy.”

Daya exhaled sharply and sniffled, her eyes growing glassy as the words soaked in. She deserves to be happy. It was something she’d always believed in for others but when it came to herself, never practiced. She always cut her own joy short because she wasn’t good enough or she was going to ruin it anyways.

“I do. I should be happy, and Jasmine and Ava make me happy.” Bosco nodded, relief overcoming them as they pulled Daya into a hug once more.

“I knew you’d get it.” They whispered into the bleached hair. They stayed like that for moments, letting Daya sit with her thoughts, finally letting herself be happy. A slight drizzle had started when Daya groaned.

“Now I have to actually get Jasmine back.”

Bosco giggled at how disgruntled Daya sounded. “Yeah I’m pretty good but that sounds like a Daya problem to solve.” Daya shoved Boscos shoulder lightly, watching how they feigned injury dramatically.

“But first,” Daya began, getting up for her spot on the couch with a surprising spring in her step. A new fire blazed behind her misty blue eyes, one that Bosco was thankful to see again. “Let’s get you ready for your date.” She finished, pulling Bosco up by their arms.

“Ooo good because I was wondering if I could borrow something.”

#rpdr season 14 #daya betty #bosco #single mom au #dayasco is such a great ship oml #they’re just besties #and love me a lil therapist! Bosco #but seriously this hurt because related a bit too much to Daya #and yes I quoted a girl in red song #so what?#we need some sad wlw songs to set the mood for the angst

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years ago

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Quite at Home in Hell

For @whumptober2021 day six & day 21: blood-matted hair & hunger

CW: Vampirism, blood drinking, noncon touch, creepy whumper, sadistic whumper, biting, captivity, dehumanizing language

Vampire Chris AU Masterlist | Follows directly from this piece

Thanks to @boxboysandotherwhump for helping me with the German & @alittlewhump for helping with the French!

1918, the Western Front of WWI

The prisoners are held in a small, hastily constructed sort of barracks far too close to the front lines.

Gefrieter Erich Eeten knows why, of course. The hope is that his own people will hesitate before they blast this bit of dirt apart, that they will be concerned enough about killing their fellow soldiers that they’ll give up a few key moments of pause to the French, the Americans, and the British. Give them the advantage in a firefight.

They want to shield themselves with the bodies of the men in this tent, unwashed and dirty, who are exhausted from a day spent digging trenches for their enemies to hide in.

He can’t exactly blame the Allied powers for it.

It’s a brilliant bit of strategy, if less and less effective as men on both sides become so battle-hardened that they cease to care about their own lives, let alone each other. Still. He’d almost rather be at one of the true POW camps further away from the front lines, where the Red Cross at least comes to check on their treatment.

Here, so close to the front, there is no one keeping watch on what happens to them at all… and the longer the war draws on, the more viciously they kill each other, the more the prisoners kept here too far for oversight feel like they are teetering at the edge of some terrible invisible cliff.

There’s a stiff breeze outside the tent, whipping the heavy, waterproofed canvas edges. They’re flapping a little, making a sound that Erich will one day hear in his nightmares. The cold sneaks in through the slight space between tent and ground, and the men in here are huddled together for warmth, sharing the meager blankets they are given.

At least, though, their captors are officially the French.

Say what you will about the blasted frogs, they never deny their prisoners a nip of strong cognac to help hold off the cold. The Americans, on the other hand, seem to be laboring under an enforced lack of good liquor, not just for prisoners but for their own soldiers, too. That seems a worse crime than nearly any other, in circumstances like this. To force a man to be a cruel killer without even a nip or three to soothe his conscience… to Erich, it sounds like brutality.

There’s a bit of a scuffle outside the tent, and the prisoners look up. Erich is at the back, leaning back against the rough frame of a cot he sleeps on at night, cards in his hands wrapped in strips of bandage cloth just for warmth. What happened to his gloves, he’s no idea. Probably one of the Allies took them for a souvenir.

The canvas wraps work well enough.

“Au garde-à-vous, prisonniers! Sur vos pieds!” Erich knows the voice - it’s the main guard of the tent they sleep in, a man named Alain who looks entirely too old for war. Here he is, anyway, all moustache and silvering hair, pulling open the entrance of the tent, moving the flap aside.

Erich glances left and then right, meeting the eyes of his fellow prisoners, and the half-dozen of them that share this single small tent push heavily to their feet, shifting apart as much as the tent will allow, hands behind their back.

His stomach dips, a low drumbeat of dread alongside his heart. Something tells him this isn’t a social call he wants to be part of.

He’s even more certain when a tall, thin American steps into the entrance, nearly silhouetted by the dim, barely-there light behind them. Their hair is long, in a loose plait with parts undone, and their eyes gleam, briefly seeming to glow in the dark. Erich is reminded of his mother’s cat, who would stalk mice at night and whose eyes did just the same when light hit them.

He feels very�� mouselike.

They wear a medic’s uniform, but it’s a little tattered. There are unrepaired bullet holes through the heavy woolen tunic, and they move with grace and disdain for how heavy wet wool must be, how itchy and uncomfortable. As if it simply doesn’t matter to them.

Because, of course, it doesn’t. The damn thing is a walking corpse, baring fangs in a grisly smile.

“Hello, soldiers,” They say, in a voice that isn’t quite a purr. “You all look a fright.”

“Verdammte Blutsauger,” Lukas Müller mutters to his right.

Erich hates the bloodsuckers. Everyone does. They come with the Americans, monsters brought from the shadows as a kind of secret weapon. Erich has never seen vampires out in the open before - back home, they are creatures of hiding. They live in cellars and basements and houses with the windows painted in thick matte black. They sweep along the streets at night, a risk for anyone who stays out too late.

But they’re not part of anything.

Here, they’re death itself, demons quite at home in hell.

Oh, sure, the Americans claim they use them only for bringing the injured back to safety - and some of them, he’s sure, are kept to that purpose. Some kind of ability to deny the truth of them, if there are enough seen doing only what the official story claims.

Erich, though, has seen one dispatching wounded German soldiers one by one left behind in a field, killing them before they can be recovered by their own people. He’s seen one with fangs buried in the throat of a man who would otherwise have lived. They’re listed as medics, but those things are what keeps the Germans on their own side of the battle lines after dark, and everyone knows it.

His own side brings canisters of poison gas. The Americans respond with an army laced around its edges in abominations the gas can’t touch.

The vampire sighs, faintly disappointed. “No good morning for me from my audience?”

Erich speaks the best English out of them all - his grandmother was English, taught it to his father in the cradle, who taught it to him. It’s made him more or less the spokesman for his small group of prisoners, and for the larger group when they are moved and briefly allowed to interact with the others. He clears his throat, stepping forward slightly. Lukas and Vilhelm, on his other side, nudge him just a little with their shoulders. It’s meant to be support, he supposes.

He feels like he’s being pushed onto a target painted on the floor, one invisible only to him.

“Good morning,” Erich says, voice flat, letting his accent roll far more heavily off his tongue than it needs to, turning good into gut. It’s always good to let the enemy believe you know less than you really do, so he pretends that English comes with difficulty and not ease. “Should you not turn to ash?”

Their eyebrows raise just slightly, not quite in amusement, and they give a brittle little laugh. “First off, Fritz, that’s a myth. Secondly, it’s not even morning. Probably close to evening now, honestly.”

Erich rolls his eyes. Lukas mutters something under his breath next to him, but the slight creaking of their boots seems to cover it too much to be understandable. Erich sighs, heavily. “Then why did you have us say to you good morning, Blutsauger?”

“Because it’s funny that you don’t know what time it is, of course. All right, who here is Fritz, who is Hans, and who am I just going to call Kraut?”

“No one here is named Hans and no one is Fritz, fangs.” Erich tips his chin down slightly, a lock of greasy brown hair falling into his eyes. “May you drown in holy water.”

He spits at the vampire’s feet.

He feels a pang of regret when the vampire turns to look at Alain, the French guard and points back at Erich, cheerful. “I want that one. He’s rude.”

“Das ist pech,” Lukas whispers.

When Alain simply stares at them blankly - and Erich knows Alain speaks English, they’ve spoken before in a tongue they had in common when neither spoke the other’s mother-tongue - the vampire groans. They don’t seem to know Alain is pretending not to understand them. “Fine. Let’s try this again. Je veux cet homme, s'il vous plaît.”

Alain’s expression tightens a little. He nods, and he won’t look Erich in the eyes as he draws the entrance open a little wider. “Emmenez-le alors.”

“Merci beaucoup,” The vampire says, giving a little bow. Erich backs up, but there isn’t anywhere to go, and none of them is armed. Besides, any resistance is met with removal of meals, with being denied the smallest comforts that make this bearable. With the possibility of all of them being handed over to a vampire, not just one.

This war had been civilized, in some ways, before the Americans brought their monsters.

It’s not actually true, but in this moment it comforts him to pretend it, to have a place to put his furious disgust as the vampire’s thin, long fingers close around his arm and yank him forwards with inhuman strength. They’re clicking their tongue against the top of their mouth in a strange animal way. Erich thinks again of his mother’s cat, making just that sound watching birds outside the windows.

“May your hands be pressed into the holy cross,” Erich snaps as he’s forced out into the freezing humid air outside the tent. There are others walking around - a war camp is never less than controlled chaos, no matter the time of day - but none of them will look at him. No one acknowledges him, although they’ve all seen this before. They know what’s going to happen here.

“Je déteste ça,” Alain mutters.

A bell is rung, clanging in a discordant note, and soldiers move into the POW tents. Erich is led towards a pole in the center of the ring of prisoner tents, something that a half-century ago might still have been a flogging post, a punishment for mutinous men.

“Crosses don’t really harm us,” The vampire says, careless and casual. “Very little does, actually. I’m a big fan of garlic, for instance. Silver, though…” They hum, dragging a fingernail over Erich’s wrist. “That hurts.”

He jerks his hand back and free, only to have the vampire laugh, bright and brilliant, and grab him again, spinning him around until they’re behind him, chest pressed to his back, using that demon strength to twist his arms up his back until his bones creak and ache, forcing him forwards towards the pole.

“I hope you have silver shoved down your throat,” Erich manages, but his heart is pounding in fear as the vampire grabs his hair and jerks his head to the side, forcing his cheek against the rough-hewn wood. Splinters bite into his skin and he grunts as his arms are moved, forced to encircle the pole. His wrists are tied with rope, leaving him looking a little ridiculous, as if he decided today to go for a hug.

Another rope goes around his shoulders, keeping him in this awkwardly pressed position. He tries to kick back, pulling viciously, but then his ankles come next. The rope goes from them to small metal hooks driven hard into the ground, keeping his legs more than shoulder-width apart. He can’t kick, or even balance himself. He must rely entirely on the pole he’s tied to in order to stay upright.

“I’m going to enjoy you,” The vampire murmurs.

Behind Erich, the sounds of a crowd gathering begin. Soft mumbles, exhalations of surprise and disgust. He closes his eyes against the rush of heat he feels - more rage than tears - knowing the prisoners are being brought out to witness this, to be shown what could happen to them next.

It does an excellent job of making them grateful for every day it’s not.

The French commander of the POW camp is barking a running list of commands to his men, but Erich doesn’t speak enough French to clearly understand them. Someone comes close by behind him, and he jolts as there’s a clap to his back. There’s a laugh behind him, not the vampire but someone else.

He manages to see from the corner of his eyes. A different American, of course. Comfortable enough with the vampire to get this close to them.

“Isn’t this a sorry sight,” The American says, and laughs. “What’s the prize for, fangs?”

The vampire lifts their hand, gently brushing Erich’s hair from his eyes. He spits in their face, this time, and is gratified by a flash of very real anger that briefly overtakes their constant amusement. They slowly wipe the spit away, then clean their hand - sort of - on Erich’s uniform.

It’s so dirty they’re probably even less clean after that than they were before.

“Reported a desertion. Now I get fresh food.” They lean down, meeting Erich’s furious hazel eyes. “I’m so hungry, Fritz. All the time. Imagine being surrounded by schnitzel and cabbage as far as the eye can see, and you’re not supposed to eat your fill. Imagine how empty you would feel.”

“Fick dich.”

“What, you won’t even curse at me in English anymore?” The vampire pouts, lower lip sticking out. He hates them more than he’s hated anyone during this godforsaken war. “Come on, you have to understand how hard this is for me, right?”

Erich ignores them, jerks his wrists again, trying to yank himself free of the ropes through sheer force. His back already is aching from being slightly bent forward, his thigh muscles stretched. He does the only thing he can think of - he slowly, with effort, drags his face along the wood and manages to turn away, and look the other direction.

“Well, fine. I suppose you’ll be mad at me for acting like you all eat schnitzel and cabbage, too,” The vampire says behind him. He doesn’t dignify them with an answer. He fixes his eyes, instead, on a point in the dark roiling clouds in the sky, above the remaining trees.

“The prisoners are well-positioned to witness,” A French officer states, speaking with a light, dancing accent but without the difficulty and hesitancy some of the regular infantry have. “You may feed when ready, Private Saathoff.”

That gets Erich’s attention. “Saathoff?”

“That’s right.” The vampire laughs, stepping up behind him. Their fingers move through the hair that curls, grown a little too long, over the back of his neck. He shudders with disgust at the intimacy of it. Their mouth moves close to his ear, but there is no heat of breath. Only the brush of lips. “Ich bin Deustcher, genau wie du.”

“Nothing like me,” Erich grinds out with his teeth gritted together so hard his jaw is already aching. He presses his forehead into the rough wooden pole and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath.

If he’s going to die…

“Vater unser im Himmel,” he begins, halting. He hasn’t seen the inside of a church since he was fourteen, and that was twelve years ago now. Still, the words to the Lord’s Prayer come easily, more muscle memory than thought. “Geheiligt werde dein Name. Dein Reich komme, Dein Wille geschehe, wie im Himmel so auf Erden-”

“Zu jeder anderen Zeit hätte ich dich als Haustier behalten.” They use his hair to jerk his head back, and their fangs jam into his neck with a flash of sudden agony.

It’s a white-hot pain that races down his spine to the very tips of his toes, and Erich screams, the sound strangled and thin but still echoing, bouncing off of trees and tents and back into his mind, crashing like the shells that slam into the earth.

Lukas jerks forwards as if to run to help him and is pushed back by one of the French soldiers, their expression set in a grim line. They have to twist Lukas’s arms behind his back to hold him as he shouts, angrily, that this isn’t fair, it’s against the laws of conduct.

There’s laughter, at that, from their captors.

The other prisoners grumble and shift uncomfortably, look at anything but Erich whenever they can, but they can’t escape the sound of his horror, of his pain.

There’s no pulse of the much-spoken-of venom. There’s no numbness to drift in, there’s no fog to cloud out his awareness of what is happening to him. Every muscle of Erich’s body is tensed tight enough to snap the bones they wrap around, the veins standing out in his throat as if giving them a roadmap of where the food can be found.

He didn’t know vampires could choose not to use the venom.

He didn’t know they could make it feel like this.

When his scream dies, he can’t get enough breath to make another. All he can do is let out high-pitched, thin whimpers and cries. Spots dance before his eyes. Beneath the sound of his heart pounding in a sudden panic to push more blood faster to replace what is being lost, he can feel - can hear - a low rumbling sound against his back.

Erich has heard the rumors that vampires purr, and now he knows they aren’t rumors at all.

He can feel it right through his back, just barely. It’s a vibration that would be pleasant if it didn’t seem to be somehow making everything hurt even worse, waking up his nerves the way the venom is supposed to deaden them. Their hands are closed around his ribs, pressing the tips of their fingers rhythmically against them, as if playing a piano, as if he is dough to be kneaded, as if he isn’t human at all.

As if he’s nothing but a field mouse that found his way into the wrong house, and the vampire is the housecat who has waited too long for a living toy to torment.

There is no prayer, in pain like this. There is no thought beyond the body’s fight for survival and the mind wanting to flee from it, if surviving means this feeling will not end. There is nothing but the feeling of his blood being pulled forcefully out of his body, nothing but his nerves screaming to escape it, nothing but the bite of the ropes that ensure he can do no more than jerk in his bonds and choke on his agony.

It feels like forever - and like a moment - when their fangs pull free, their cool rough tongue lapping at the wounds to close them, purring against his ear with contentment. Their fingers knead into his skin a little bit longer, drawing the moment out as he slumps against the wooden pole he’s tied to. He’s only standing because of the ropes.

Pain rolls through him, breaking against the edges of his body from the inside, like the smaller waves after a storm falling onto a beach already strewn with debris. He slumps. His own breath is a rasping wheeze, taking far more effort than it should.

Nein, Erich, Erich stirb nicht…” Lukas’s voice comes from somewhere so far away, filtering through the noise in Erich’s mind slowly. He can’t even begin to form a response. His mouth won’t answer his commands. It only hangs open, panting, pulling in the chilly air over his tongue. He starts to shiver as the breeze hits the cold sweat in his hair and on his neck, cuts through his uniform somehow.

He doesn’t have enough blood left to warm himself.

Their tongue licks up his neck behind his ear, matting his own blood into his hair there, sticky and hot. It starts to cool and dry immediately in the cold air. Erich’s stomach twists.

“Oh, he won’t die,” The vampire coos, petting through his hair slowly. Their nails scratch at his scalp. “Not today.” Their mouth presses back against his ear. “Thanks for the meal, Erich. And for being so entertaining. Maybe I’ll find you after the war. I’ll buy you a beer… and some schnitzel.”

They push themself away from him, turning away to wipe a bit of blood from the corners of their mouth, and walk with a jaunty step through an opening that appears in the ring of watching prisoners, whose eyes follow them with apprehension and no small amount of fear.

When Alain comes up to untie him, Erich simply collapses into the Frenchman’s arms as soon as he’s free of the ropes. Lukas is allowed to move up to stand at his other side, putting Erich’s limp left arm around his shoulders, while Alain supports his right. Erich lets his head fall into Lukas’s shoulder, hitching his breath as he forces down a sob.

“Wh… why do you let them do this?” He asks, his English slurred with the exhaustion that means he is dragged with his boots carving paths through the mud back towards the tent.

Alain is silent until Erich is dropped onto his cot, the hard frame digging into Erich’s back right through the thin mattress. He glances over his shoulder, the three of them alone in here for the moment, and then looks back.

“It is believed that this is how we will win,” He says, and pats Erich’s hand. “My apologies. I do not believe in the monsters, but I am not the one to run this war.”

“None of us are,” Erich says, weakly. He closes his eyes. “We are only the ones who must fight in it.”

There’s a pause, and Alain’s exhale is audible in the quiet tent. “I will ensure you are given extra meat rations tonight, and I will find you some schnapps. Essaye de dormir, maintenant, si tu peux,” he says with soft regret lacing his voice. Then there is a shuffle of footsteps, and he’s gone.

Lukas shifts and sits with his back to the cot, in the same position Erich was in before. He swallows, picking up the abandoned cards from the game they’d been playing, looking over Erich’s hand. “You’d have won, you know, on the next hand,” He says in German, before he reaches out to grab the others’ cards and reshuffle the deck.

“Do I still get my… my winnings?” Erich can barely move his lips to speak. He’s so tired. So, so tired. He can feel his hands starting to shake, now that it’s over, the trembling moving slowly up his limbs, stuttering his breathing.

“My share of the liquor? Not on your life.” Lukas pauses, and then his tone gentles as he looks Erich over again. “You know what... of course you can. You’ll need warmth. What did the bloodsucker say to you, anyway? I couldn’t hear.”

Erich thinks about the promise to find him after the war, about the way they spoke into his ear as if he were little more than a toy top to be spun at their command. In another time, I’d keep you for a pet, they had whispered, before they bit down.

He shakes his head, slowly. “Lies,” He answers, and feels the softer-edged darkness of sleep begin to take him.

“Lies?”

“I hope… I hope they were lies.”

For the moment, at least, he is too exhausted by the present to feel terror for the future.

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @newandfiguringitout @astrobly @endless-whump @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump @thefancydoughnut

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animensfw-smut · 4 years ago

Note

Hii can i request for a todoroki x neko!innocent! reader ?

Sure! I hope you enjoy this oneshot! Sorry for the late reply, requests pile up when you only update once a week 😅

WARNINGS: NSFW, 18+, Public sex, fingering, face sitting, dry humping, Shoto calling reader kitten.

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*Third pov*

“Oh, the ocean breeze is so nice, Shoto!!!”

“Mm.” He hummed as he stared lovingly at (y/n). He loved seeing her happy, but what he loved seeing was her in a bikini.

“Do you want to go for a swim?” (y/n) shook her head furiously,

“N-No thanks! Cats don’t do water, Sho...” Shoto gave a smile, grabbing both of her hands,

“It’s fine, i promise. I’ll hold onto your hands and guide you into the water, okay?” She nodded slowly, walking towards the sea with him.The coldness sent shivers down her spine, and her tail wagged slightly,

“Come on, kitten...” Walking deeper into the water, (y/n) shuffled closer to Shoto, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“It’s so cold...” Slowly, his left side heated up and he brought her closer to his chest,

“There, better now?” Shoto’s warm hands caressed the back of her thigs, slowly sliding up. She nuzzled her cheek into Shoto’s chest as she was now shoulder-deep in the water.

“Here, I’ll help you forget about the water~” His mouth peppered kisses over her neck, ocassionally sucking on the flesh and creating hickeys that reminded people that she was only his.

She sighed, leaning her forehead towards his broad chest, relishing in the way his lips felt against her skin. The cool breeze that drifted over them made her shiver slightly,

“Sho, c-can we get out of the water now?” He gave a smile,

“Mm. You’ve done good.” (y/n) turned around, heading back to the shore. Her ass pressed against his crotch and Shoto tried to maintain a calm expression, his fingers digging into her waist.

“Wait kitten... Stay here for a bit.” Shoto couldn’t risk going out of the water for everyone to see the bulge that had formed.

“Hm? Why?”

“I got hard.” He bluntly stated before rutting into her back. (y/n) let out a small squeak, gripping his arms around her waist,

“S-So, you need to relieve yourself? I thought you said we c-can’t do these things in public...?”

“It’s alright kitten. If no one sees, it’s fine. Plus, you don’t want me to be all uncomfortable right?” (y/n) nodded, staying in her position. Shoto’s grunts were muffled as he buried his face into her neck, his thrusts quickening. (y/n) felt her core ache as Shoto continued to use her for his pleasure, the big bulge pressing between her lower cheeks.

“Ah... You feel so- mm- nice kitten...” The bulge continued to strain against his shorts. He pushed his swim shorts down enough to free his aching cock, using his hand to guide it towards her cunt. His cock prodded her entrance through her bikini bottom before he continued to thrust into her. The thin material pushed into her cunt along with the tip of his cock and she mewled quietly,

“Sh-Sho...! I-It feels weird...”

“Mm, kitten, i know... Just bare with me for a bit...” He closed his eyes in pleasure as her cunt lenched around the tip of his dick. With a quiet groan, he emptied his load outside of her entrance. Sucking another hickey onto her neck, he tucked his cock into his swim shorts before sorting out her bikini bottom.

“Good kitten, we can leave the water now~”

“Okay...” For some reasons, she felt dissatisfied. She realised she wanted more, but she didn’t know what she wanted more of. Shoto noticed the small pout on her lips and gave a quiet chuckle.

Once they got to where they put their stuff on the sand, Shoto pulled (y/n) onto his lap. The spot they were in was a nice corner of the beach where no-one trespassed. It was secluded by some giant rocks on the side.

“Now, kitten... What are you pouting for?” She shuffled nervously in her seat,

“I-I felt... Dissatisfied... For some reasons...” Shoto quirked a brow. (yn) elaborated,

“It felt good wh-when you pressed against me...”

“Ahh, so you wanted more.” She nodded. Shoto proceeded to lay down on his back on the beach mat they had set out,

“Come here, kitten.” He signalled to his mouth and (y/n) tilted her head, her cat ears lowering onto her head. Shoto sighed, getting up and pulling her thighs to rest on either side of his head.

Moving her bottoms to the side, Shoto’s eyes stared at her pussy glistening with her arousal. Her slick dripped onto his mouth, his tongue sweeping over his lips to taste her. He groaned at the taste, his cock hardening yet again.

“Just sit stil kitten, I’ll make you feel amazing~”

“O-Okay.” Without questioning, she slowly lowered herself on top of him, his tongue immediately dipping into her folds. The slimy wet feeling had (y/n) writhing in her seat, her fingers gripping the dual-coloured locks and gently tugging. Shoto’s groans sent vibrations straight to her core and his fingers dug into the flesh of her ass, pushing her flush against his mouth. Sweet moans escaped her mouth, music to Shoto’s ears, but someone could find them if she didn’t quiet herself. Pulling himself away from her pussy, he stared up at (y/n),

“Kitten, as much as i love hearing you, if you’re not quiet someone could find us. And we don’t want that, do we?” (y/n) shook her head before placing her hands over her mouth.

“Good.” He dragged his tongue across her slit before plunging into the mess of slick and drool. One of his hands came to spread her labia apart to plunge his tongue deeper inside of her. He couldn’t help his pleasure-filled hums as her walls clenched around the wet muscle. His tongue swirled inside of her, his nose nudging against her clit causing quiet gasps to escape her mouth yet again. Shoto didn’t stop, wanting to taste her sweet cum on his tongue. His fingers slowly entered her in a scissoring motion, massaging the soft flesh. The lewd sound made (y/n)’s tail swish excitedly behind her, her thighs clamping down around his head.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she unconsciously roleld her hips to meet the thrusting of his tongue. His tongue suddenly turned cold causing her to gasp and moan at the welcoming cold in contrast with the hot weather. Her release was near, her breathing slightly ragged as Shoto’s tongue pressed against her clit, his lips wrapping around it and sucking harshly onto it. (y/n)’s legs trembled and her whole body shivered as her orgasm was flushed out of her body, her release spraying all over Shoto’s waiting mouth. A groan made its’ way past his lips as he drank every single drop of her juice.

With shaky breaths, (y/n)’s body shifted onto the beach mat, laying limp as she was all spent. Shoto’s swim shorts were filthy as it was stained with his precum on the inside. He pulled his swim shorts off, his cock springing free before he helped (y/n) to remove her bikini bottoms.

“Come here, kitten. I promise you can sleep after this.”

“Mm, ‘kay...” She straddled Shoto’s lap. Shoto gave an approving hum before settling her on his cock, her walls immediately clenching around his dick. He let out a soft groan, almost cumming on the spot. He pushed her head to lie against his chest and got a towel to drape over them like a blanket. The place where they were connected was hidden from view. Shoto patted her head, playing with her furry ears,

“I know you’re tired kitten. I’ll wake you up when we’re leaving~” She snuggled into his chest,

“M’night Sho, love you.”

“Night, kitten, love you too.”

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

A/N

Woo, I feel like i did alright with this one! Anyway, I’m planning on updating at least two more times this week because I’m on holiday and i got no assignments to hand in. The next request will be:

Aizawa x Thicc! Reader.

#todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #bnha #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #anime smut

347 notes · View notes

omiscurls · 4 years ago

Text

omi doesn’t like flowers

sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader fluff

cw: the reader has a little sibling, i hope nobody minds, there’s one line of very slightly implied nsfw, you won’t even notice

meant for kiyoomi’s birthday! happy b-day to my favorite boy <3

one of the first things you’ve learnt about your boyfriend, even before your relationship started, is that he rarely shared personal information with anyone. he’d go as far as put up a fake birthday on his social media to avoid the awkward wishes and tons of yet another gifts from fans he so didn’t like going through. apart from that, there was a lot of weird things going on with birthdays, in his opinion: for instance people automatically thinking about zodiac sign or assuming other things, insisting to have a party, (a surprise one was his biggest nightmare) and a whole lot of other stuff he found appalling.

so it was just simply easier to say his birthday is “mid november” and get on with his life as if he didn’t just straight up lie. and truth be told, many times had you heard that “oh, in summer” or “right before christmas” before you got to know the truth. it wasn’t that easy on its own, but ever since his first little white lie, you knew he wasn’t true with you, and kept insisting, until he finally pulled you to the side and told you his real date of birth, the one only komori, atsumu, and, as he used to say, “unfortunately” his family knew.

march 20th was the date, and since you wanted to tease him, a grin appeared on your face before you mumbled “so a pisces, huh?” and earned a glare so cold and deadly, you visibly shivered before apologizing.

the next thing you learned about him and his birthday, was that he was picky about gifts. which went well with that “i’m an old fashioned gentleman” facade, because he could just say “oh, you don’t have to buy me anything. your company will be enough” with a slight smile he’d practice for years, and people thought he was just being humble and polite. spoiler alert: he wasn’t. he just didn’t want to deal with his own pickiness, and explaining to people what precisely would he like to get was too much trouble, and took away the magic of it even for someone as blunt as kiyoomi sakusa.

it’s not like birthdays were such a big deal for him, anyway, he didn’t need any gifts or parties to celebrate the fact that he just got one year older. what was so fun about that? but like the pain in the arse you were, you kept asking him what he wanted for the occassion way before he asked you out, and he hated it, but not more than he hated the way his heart jumped at the possibility of getting something you spent your time on.

the first year of your friendship, you got to know the basic thing: omi doesn’t like gifts. gifts make him uncomfortable, he didn’t know what to say, how to act, what to do with it... does he open it right then and there, or wait, but why would he immediately thank someone if he doesn’t even open it? schroedinger’s cat: if he doesn’t open it, it might as well be thin air inside the box.

it was confusing, and weird. you also learnt that it was all caused by the fact that no one was in the house to celebrate young omi’s birthday back in his childhood days, since his parents were working and his siblings long away in college, so he just assumed it was a holiday to be overlooked and not dwelled too much on, and got so used to it, that now it bothered him to be in the center of attention for once.

the third thing you learnt that year: it was almost impossible to find him a good enough gift, at least from your perspective. you spent literal hours at the store, looking at the different things he might’ve wanted, but nothing caught your eye. you called all his friends, yet he hadn’t mentioned the thing he’d like to anyone, not even komori. so you decided you’d go with instinct and remembered one cold morning when he showed up to practice grumpier than usual, and when he was asked what’s wrong, he answered:

“i woke up late and didn’t have time to make coffee”, half mumbling, half actually speaking, eyes too tired to be annoyed, legs slowly sweeping one before another as if he was forced to come here. And that’s where you got your idea.

His first birthday with you, being his 21st, had started terribly, because it was wishes from his family. He’d told you multiple times he’d rather have them forget that send those copied off the internet lines that mean less than a “go fuck yourself”

later on atsumu insisted or telling everyone and it took poor omi more than twenty minutes to convince him not to, and as both the setter and the spiker weren’t in their top moods nor form, MSBY lost a match they had that day. so all he wanted to do march 20th 2017 when he came home was to lay flat on his couch and play with his dog’s fur while watching a crappy TV show. he most definitely didn’t expect you sitting in front of his apartment’s door, tired, almost asleep.

he sighed, approching you and slightly nudging your foot with his, making you shake your head and look up.

“you’re back!” you said with a smile, and he raised an eyebrow.

“and you look like a homeless person” he responded upsentmindedly, avoiding you to reach the door lock. only after you got up did he see a small package you held behind your back. “it’s not a right day to be celebrating me, y/n” he added, opening his apartment’s door and letting you in with a hand gesture. you went inside, not for the first time ever, but every time the feeling was the same, intimidating and cold.

“why do you think that?” you said, taking off your shoes and putting them on a rack, and turning around to see him navigate you to the bathroom. you placed your bag and the gift on the floor before following his steps.

“didn’t you see the match? i fucked up big time” he chuckled ironically, looking at himself in the mirror, and you could witness the disappointment and anger in his eyes.

“so every time you guys win and you get the credit, you say that volleyball is a team sport, but if you loose, suddenly it’s your fault?” you smirked, but to your surprise he nodded.

“precisely”.

“well, regardless, it’s a minor set back. you’re still the best they make” you tried to cheer him up, but only received an eye roll in return. “aaaand, you’re a birthday boy today!”

“don’t remind me” he sighed, walking over to the kitchen to see what he can make for dinner for himself and his uninvited guest, meanwhile you grabbed your gift and walked up right behind him, tapping his shoulder lightly.

“happy 21″ you whispered, a slight, soft smile on your lips, as you handed him the package. he looked at you with a tired look in his eyes.

“you know i’m not the biggest fan of gifts”

“just open it, grumpy face” you whined, and he gently took it from you, placing it on the counter and carefully unwraping it, to see a thermal mug. he sent you a questioning look, before you explained “you were complaining about not having enough time to drink coffee before leaving, right? well now you don’t have to drink it before leaving”

there was silence for a long while before he looked up from the mug and gave you the softest smile you’ve ever seen. “that’s so thoughtful of you” he said, and laughed a tiny bit, probably to cover his emotion, which obviously didn’t work “thank you.”

omi likes thoughtful gestures.

over the second year of your friendship, as he and his career gained more recognition from the public, he was “forced”, as he’d reffer to it, to share such a personal information that is his birthday date. the managers always claimed that it’s not a big deal, that it’s just gonna be added to the oficial page and his wikipedia, but judging from the amount of gifts atsumu, bokuto and hinata always received, he had his reason to doubt that.

and as it turned out, he was right.

because starting from march 10th, his personal mailbox as well as the oficial MSBY’s mailbox has been FLOODED with different things that he really had no energy to go over. and so, he invited one of his best friends to help.

so it was late at night on march 19th, and you were both sitting on the floor of his apartment, a mess of ripped wrapping paper all around you, loads of different stuff laying on the table, as you still had a lot of things to open.

“what even is the point in sending presents to someone you’ve never met? i mean less to them than their neigbour’s dog and yet i’m the one getting gifts? this is messed up” he kept on complaining, opening another package.

“it’s called being famous, sakusa-kun. you mean very much to people you’ve never met, because your journey to where you are now inspires them to keep going on their path until they reach their dreams” you said with a smile, confident it’ll ease his worries, but it didn’t.

“don’t know if i consider being in the Jackals my dream, though”

“you mean, you don’t think being a key player in a division one team is not a dream come true?” you asked, shocked.

“no, no, of course i think it is, i’d never thought i’d reach this far, but, there’s more things to be done, it’s not like i’m an accomplished person just yet”

that, you found interesting.

“really? than what are your dreams, sakusa?” you asked in a low voice, eyes fixed on his face, as he focused on reading a letter in his hands.

��national team” he murmured “MVP, a golden medal, a legacy that goes beyond just me” he opened up as if it was nothing, as if he was talking about his grocery list “but that all wouldn’t mean a thing if i were there alone, though. i’ve received plenty awards and mvp’s over the few years that i played, but i guess what would really matter, and make everything else worth remembering, would be... having someone be proud of me, i guess”

you felt your heart getting soft and fuzzy at the confession, wanting to respond, before he handed you the note he was silently reading.

“this is a poem, y/n, a POEM! what the hell, i don’t even understand what’s going on there” he whined, throwing his head back to rest on the couch seat, as you giggled, reading the note.

“it’s nice” you said in a high-pitched tone, pushing down a laugh.

“it’s too... sophisticated” he uttered, looking at you, a tired look in his eyes. “that’s my mother’s thing, to be sophisticated, i like simpler wishes, they’re easier to believe”

omi doesn’t like fancy words.

you nodded, but before you could say anything, your phone rang, and both of you looked at the screen. the hour on display marked midnight, and as the alarm ranged, the words “omi’s b-day!!!” appeared on the screen. he smiled subconsciously, noticing how you always address him as “sakusa” or “sakusa-kun” but the notif in your phone stated “omi”.

“looks like it’s the 20th already, birthday boy” you grinned, turning off the alarm.

“don’t call me that, what am i, six or something?”

you decided to ignore the comment, and smiled at him warmly before speaking, almost under your own breath:

“happy 22, sakusa. i wish you only to be here to hear me say happy 23 next year. and say so with pride.”

his eyes appeared foggy and glossy, but it was probably fault of poor lighting and tiredness.

“why stop at 23?” he asked, before standing up, and offering you his hand to pick you up, too.

omi likes very real wishes.

over the third year of your friendship you became very close. ever since that night on his living room floor, both of you couldn’t wrap your minds about anything other than each other. neither of you oblivious idiots found out what it was about, but day after day and month after month it was harder and harder to spend time apart.

before he could notice, sakusa always tried to find you in the crowd before serving, and that’s how he always used up most of his time. once, he even heard ushijima complain “how much longer are you going to take? be a man and beat me without your good luck charm!”

his good luck charm, huh?

you kinda liked the sound of that.

you also found yourself texting him every random thought that came to your head, sending pictures of everything, becasue you wanted to share as much of your life as possible, meeting up whenever you could and facetiming whenever you couldn’t.

it all started to go downhill when atsumu, bokuto and hinata started noticing. noticing the way he’d smile at his phone, the way he’d wink, smile, tease, joke, speak, even the way his eyes wondered when left unfocused, and a dreamy look covered his vision.

and they started to tease, and joke, and make his life all more difficult, just because “omi has a crush!”

because he didn’t. right? he didn’t have a crush on you, for sure, and it only annoyed him, how childish they were about it, how insufferable. they got on his nerves so bad that he stopped responding to all the messages, stopped smiling, joking around, and all, just to prove his point,

his point he knew was no longer standing.

and so atsumu would ask, after one of their practices, “hey omi, is your lucky charm picking you up? some birthday dinner, maybe?” he’d nudge his side with an elbow, raising his eyebrows.

“i don’t know” he mumbled “and stop calling them that”. the brunette kept looking for something in his bag, just to avoid atsumu’s tiring, curious glance.

“fine then, how about your significant other?” he continued teasing. it’s not like sakusa would hate that scenario, of course he wouldn’t, yet his mind kept spiraling - what if you came in and heard that? what if you assumed he was calling you that behind your back?

what if you didn’t feel the same?

“stop butting in my relationships for once, miya! how many times am i supposed to tell you i’m not in any way romantically involved with them? i don’t even like them that much!” he lied, straight in his best friend’s face, fed up with all the jokes and smirks behind his back, and judging from atsumu’s shocked expression, and the color running away from his face, it worked.

“what, don’t you have anything to say to me now?” he kept going, before atsumu shook his head, and pointed behind kiyoomi’s back wordlessly. the spiker raised an eyebrow, turning around to see you, in the flash, eyes wide open, a tiny little package in your hands, wrapped so neatly in colorful paper, with a little bow tie at the top.

even from a distance he could already half see, half imagine tears prickling your eyes before you smiled sadly, dropped the box from your hand and let it fall to the floor, and began walking out of the gym room.

“no, no no, y/n, wait!” he started shouting out, but your ears seemed deaf to his pleas, as he ran up to the door you just walked through, leaving atsumu alone, but with a condescending smile.

“i don’t like them that much my ass, omi-kun” he whispered to himself before walking over to grab his things.

meanwhile sakusa ran out to the reception room of the stadium, but as it turned out, it was filled with fans waiting for them all to come out, so they could wish him happy birthday, and it seemed impossible to get through the crowd and reached you, especially considering you were already at the exit door.

he looked around himself and noticed all the people, how many of them were there, and how close to him, and got paralyzed in place, wanting to move, or disappear, that’d be for the best, and yet he couldn’t even move one foot.

soon enough he felt a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back inside, his savior apologizing to the public.

“sorry guys, we have one more thing to go through! he’ll be out shortly” atsumu laughed off, before closing the door and handing omi the gift you left.

the spiker mindlessly opened it, only to find out a spotify code inside, put in between a glass frame. he took out his phone from the bag and scanned it with his app, gasping audiably when the page loaded.

lay back in the arms of someone by smokie showed up on his screen, and a smile crawled up his lips before he remembered how badly he fucked this up a second ago.

he narrowed his eyebrows before looking up to find the blond setter’s eyes.

“atsumu” his friend’s eyes widened in surprise upon hearing his first name, instead of surname “is there a back exit from here?”

atsumu miya smirked.

“bet ya there is, mr i-fucked-up-big-time” he answered, theatrically offering his hand, before taking the lead.

you on the other hand, came home peacefully, although hot tears were streaming silently down your cold cheeks as you entered the apartment’s door and looked at the calendar, showing the date of march 20th. in a sudden wave of aggression you ripped it off, knowing that there’s nothing to be so pressed about: he had no duty of feeling the same way towards you, why would you even expect it?

you went on with your day, ordering takeout for dinner, snuggling up on your couch and rewatching a series, not granting your thoughts access to yourself, and it was really going well, until you heard the doorbell ring.

“nobody’s home” you yelled, assuming it was either atsumu or bokuto on their way to cheer you up, and they’ll probably let themselves in as soon as they hear your voice, but that didn’t happen. instead, the doorbell kept on ringing. “ugh, just come in!”

they didn’t come in, so you lifted yourself off the couch and walked over to the door, opening it and gasping a tiny bit when instead of your dumbass friends holding McDonald’s you saw a one hundred and ninety two centimeters tall figure of a man, struggling to catch his breath, leaning on your doorframe, his black coat unbuttoned, cheeks red, eyes puffy and hair in a mess, not even gelled into place as they always are.

“can i help you?” you asked in a cold manner, voice sending daggers into his poor, confused heart, as he finally looked up to meet your glance, an apologetic look in his eyes when he tried to form a sentence.

“i think i can... no, way, i think i might...” he kept struggling, to which you only rolled your eyes, waiting for the continuation of that sentence.

“spit it out, sakusa” you stated, sending shivers down his spine with how annoyed you seemed.

yeah, spit it out, sakusa, he thought to himself before taking a breath and finally speaking up correctly:

“i think i might be in love with you.”

your eyes widened for a second as you tried to find evidence of honesty in his expression, tone, voice, because you definitely didn’t believe his words.

his heart dropped when you scoffed.

“i don’t need your pity”

that’s when it hit him:

omi doesn’t like to spend his birthday without you. you make it not only bearable, but fun.

in fact, he never wanted to spend it without you again. and as that realization made it’s way into his brain, he caught you closing your door.

“i respect you too much to pity you” he spat out as he placed his hand in between the door and the frame, making you unable to close it, even if you wanted to.

and there was the honesty you looked for.

“then why—” you started to wonder, but he shook his head before interrupting, a helpless look across his face.

to lay back in the arms of someone

“i’m afraid of... of this, okay? i’m afraid of falling in love, if this is any explanation for you. it’s like... you make me feel as if i’m on the top of the world” he laughed nervously, making you raise your eyebrows, before continuing “and it’s fucking scary to imagine falling from that high”

you give in to the charms of someone

his glance wondered all over your face to find crumbs of understanding, scared you’d laugh his confession off, a grimace of worry replacing the insecure smile painting his lips, and he was just one step away from shouting “i’m telling the truth!” at you, but you cut him off by opening your door fully, and welcoming him inside with a warm smile on your lips, and a reassuring sentence on your tongue.

happy 23rd, kiyoomi

“i think i might love you back”

omi likes feeling loved.

the next year flew by on both of you pushing each other’s limits, challenging each other like the both of you always needed, being there for each other, finding out how nice it feels to have someone there. it was coming home with a sore throat after a night of yelling “one more point, omi-omi!”. it was carefully intertwining your pinkies together while shopping without even realizing. it was awkward dates, because the label “date” always changes the atmosphere. it was taking weird selfies, it was having to part for out-of-town games and facetiming from hotel rooms. it was butterflies in the stomach and a ball of fluff in mind.

it was everything.

the first year of your official relationship flew by in no time, kiyoomi finding new joy in his birthday since now it was really a day to be remembered, marking your anniversary.

and just as you got home to his apartment after dinner, ready to unpack all the fanmail once again, the janitor of the building stopped you.

“sakusa-san, there was a flower delievery for you” he sighed, going towards a locked shelf and coming back with a bouquet, at which kiyoomi stared for a whole five seconds before you decided to take it.

“thank you for taking care of it” he muttered with a slight bow, you pushing him to go up the stairs. “who’s it from?” he’d ask you a minute later, halfway through the staircase.

“don’t you wanna check yourself?” you asked, but he frantically shook his head.

“check it for me, please”

omi doesn’t like flowers.

you nodded wordlessly before checking a card.

“well if i’m not mistaken this is your surname” you furrowed, struggling to read the handwriting. in your defense, the kanji for “sakusa” are quite complicated.

he looked over at the text before admitting “yeah, that’s from my aunt, she insists on sending those ever since i got into MSBY” he finally got to his door to unlock it “kinda sad how she didn’t even bother writing a text before” he chuckled, making you want to throw the flowers away.

you knew he considered them worthless if that’s the story behind the nice gesture.

the apartment door remained opened, but he didn’t enter, you almost stumbled over him, focusing on the note, and glanced over to see what caught him attention and prevented him from going inside.

“this is your surname, for a change” he stated, showing you a buffy envelope over his shoulder, but didn’t let you take it when you tried. instead he opened it himself, a neatly wrapped package inside, with a note at the top:

i wore glowes making it! i swear!

there was a typo in gloves, and the writing style could use a little work on it, but that didn’t affect kiyoomi at all, as he was hypnotized with his package after noticing your surname on it. he carefully opened it, to find a keychain, made from cubes, as the ones used in different boardgames, on every one there was a letter or a number, together forming the writing “kiyoomi 15″ with a heart at the end. it was all on a black string, and almost shined with how many times it was wiped before sending. after holding it in his hand for a while, he noticed another card at the bottom of the package, taking it out and reading out loud:

“please take care of my sibling. happy 24th!” he uttered in sheer amazement, as he grazed his fingers over the delicate ornament, before wordlessly going inside the apartment.

you followed him, closing the door behind you, worried about his reaction about your little sibling’s present, only to find him crouching before his couch, his training bag laying there as he tried to attach the keychain to the it’s zipper, smiling when he managed to do so.

before he got to turn around to face you, you managed to take a photo of him smiling at the newest addition to his training gear, and send it to your family with a caption:

omi likes personalized stuff.

over all the years of knowing kiyoomi, you’ve learnt so much about him, his life, his habits, everything. you knew him inside and out, and so he knew you. you’re laughing at your confusion and fear while you were buying his first birthday gift, as you sit on the floor in your shared apartment, plotting his 25th, biggest yet gift, as if he isn’t about to walk through the door, coming back from practice.

it’s almost ridiculous, how you struggled, wondering if he’d even like a gift, when right now you have a whole list in mind:

although omi doesn’t like gifts, he likes little thougtful gestures. he doesn’t like fancy big words, but likes real, honest wishes he can really take to heart. he doesn’t like spending his birthday without you, he likes feeling love, doesn’t like flowers, but does like his gifts personalized and touching.

you realize all the moments in your relationship made you know his every emotion and expression, but you’ve never seen your precious boyfriend cry, ever.

and you decide to change that.

you’re gonna make him something that’s gonna mask all the memories of his birthday being forgotten, walked pass by, pushed into the back, and not properly celebrated. that’s gonna outshine every single gift he’s ever got. that’s gonna make him so happy, he’ll cry.

an idea pops into your head as you get a pen and start writing.

dear kiyoomi,

_______

“dear kiyoomi” you get to hear him say a couple of nights later, he reads it out on your plea, with a smile across his lips, as you, atsumu, bokuto, meian and hinata, as well as omi’s older siblings and komori and osamu sit at the table, a cake and two traces of his favorite cupcakes are taking all the space possible.

omi’s voice is colored with a couple of glasses of wine, so it’s easier to him to relax and genuinely grin at the paper as he’s reading, all part of your plan.

“when i first met you, the first thing i found out is that you’re a private person. not that i was freaked out or anything, but you did have, and probably you still do, a heavy aura around you that may have flustered me a tiny little— a tiny little bit? smiles, your hands literally shivered” he stopped to comment, making you roll your eyes at him.

“zip it and keep reading, birthday boy”

“... a tiny little bit, i agree. nevertheless, the first thing i actually felt, was that you striked my soul as someone weird. thanks, baby” he interrupted again, but you urged him to keep reading. “... weird in a way that made me feel like i’ve never felt before, the kind of safe and terrified at the same time. terrified of what, you might ask? well, kiyoomi, here i’d like to quote you. you once told me that me loving you is like i had the power to break you, and you loving me back was like giving me a map with all the points to strike at. well if that’s the definition of love we’re going for here, than i not only give you a map, i’ll grant you a whole GPS. the trust you put in me every day to not take advantage of what you’ve given me is inspiring, and hence, i surrender every single point of ressistance i’ve held against you, i’m yours to snap at a wish, and trusting you that you won’t do it is something i can spend my life believing in.”

at this point kiyoomi had to stop and take a deep breath and a sip of his wine before continuing, clearing his throat a bit, chocking back his emotion.

“... throughout my years by your side, i’ve memorized everything there is to memorize about you and gifts. you generally aren’t a fan, but you like them carrying a lot of thought, dedication, you like them meant exactly to you and to you only. you don’t want pointless blabbing and overused sentences, you enjoy sincerity. you need love radiating from them in order to truly acknowledge them as something special. now, the last thing i know is that you don’t like flowers, but i hope you won’t be too angry with me and with what i’ve prepared for you. enjoy, signed, your smiles” he finished, looking up at you, already moving towards the counter, grabbing a bouquet from behind it.

he watched in amazement as you handed it to him, taking it in his hands, realizing that-

it was a bouquet of origami flowers.

“please, y/n, this is so—” he tried to find the right words, but once again, nothing came to mind as he watched your careful work from every side possible.

“shh, there’s a special thing to them” you explained, sitting back in your seat, exactly in a straight line from him, watching every single change in his expression as he tried to find what you meant.

he realized every flower had a little card sticking out from it’s center, and pulled the first one, the closest one to him.

“the first reason i love you” he read in a weak voice, chuckling nervously again before he found the courage to read it out loud “you make me feel protected”

he looked up at you with such a gentle and caring note in his eyes that you almost didn’t want to encourage him to keep reading it, but you did.

“two. you don’t smile too much” after that he raised an eyebrow, but read the next one “three. ...but when you do, you outshine the sun itself. four. you memorized my coffee order within the first two times we’ve been to a caffee. five. you got supplies to redo my coffee order without going to the— hey i swear i didn’t mean anything bad by it!”

“that’s literally the reason they love you for, idiot” atsumu laughed, urgining him to keep reading with a hand gesture. “come on, this is adorable”

“six. you have a playlist with songs that remind you of me. yes, i know this, omi, we share a spotify account. seven. you claim you don’t like interacting with people, but let a little girl propose to you with a cereal ring in the park.”

“this is too cute, omi is a softie” bokuto whined, hiding his face in his hands, but sakusa only slapped them off.

“am not. eight. you keep a mental score of all the times you won over ushijima. nine. you take way too much pride in beating atsumu in service aces”

“true that!” atsumu shouted, hiding behind his glass.

“ten” sakusa shook his head. “you don’t enjoy PDA, yet gave me the kiss of the century when i met your mother, just to annoy her. eleven. your childhood photos are too cute. twelve. you blasted hopelessly devoted to you the morning after we— i’m not reading that, idiot!” he half laughed half whined, in a high-pitched voice.

“omi-san knows how it’s done, apparently” hinata wheezed, komori accompanying him.

“did i ask?” he rolled his eyes and went back to picking lines from the flowers. “thirteen, you tug the corner of my sleeves when you’re stressed in public. fourteen, you have me saved in your phone as your good luck charm. fifteen. you put my head on your chest when i can’t sleep at night, to calm me down. sixteen. you make me laugh when i’m sad. seventeen. you almost never intent to make me laugh, yet always do. eighteen. you always make sure i’m carrying all the emergency items all me at all times. nineteen. you make me call you when i get home from a party, if you aren’t there to pick me up. twenty, you always insist on picking me up from wherever i am, because you’re worried about me. i mean yeah, what kind of a boyfriend would i be if i weren’t?” he genuinely asked, half of the guest shaking their heads.

“come on, five more to go, you adorable, clueless idiot” motoya pat his back and looked over his shoulder to see your careful handwriting, before sakusa hid the message from him.

“twenty one. you make me not worry about my future. twenty two, you try to do all your little morning rituals in advance when you leave, so i don’t miss you too much. i still do. twenty three, you’re never afraid to be bluntly honest with me. twenty four, you always ask if you can hug me when i’m low or crying. and twenty five—” he stopped more suddenly than anywhere before, eyes visibly watering before he dropped his head down and his it in his arms.

“what’s on there?” several guys asked over themselves, as omi kept laughing slightly, hiding tears in the sleeves of his fitted shirt.

“you’re gonna be the death of me” he murmured into the material, making everyone laugh, including you, who decided to walk over to him and hug him, resting your head on his, taking advantage of the fact that he was sitting and you could reach it.

after a moment of weakness, he showed his red and slightly puffy face, two trails of tears fitting his smiling expression as he struggled to say

“twenty five. you make me prouder and prouder every day.” he kept laughing through his tears, really trying to hide his emotion and failing miserably. “you really did try to make me cry on my birthday, didn’t you?” he looked up to you still embracing him.

“i suppose i did”

“well then, i’m gonna outshine you” he said, shifting in his seat in order to get up, wiping the last remains of tears from his face.

“what do you mean?” you asked, met with his confident smirk.

“you’re gonna see in a bit, trust me” he huffed, dusting off his pants’ material on the knee level, and reaching over to his pocket, in his hand a tiny, little box.

with a little more than an origami flower.

#haikyuu sakusa #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #hq fanfic #hq prompts #hq scenarios #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #fluff #hq fluff

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spectracully · 4 years ago

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busy boy.

pairing : fratboy!jaemin x sororitygirl!reader warnings : drinking, mentions of drugs, a bit suggestive (but pls note that this isn’t smut), cursing, mentions of divorce genre : fluff, angst, college!au word count : 2.5k

summary : inspired by chloe x halle - busy boy. basically playing around with the local campus playboy, na jaemin for months is not the best thing, not the worst thing either.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ You face yourself in the bathroom mirror, hands gripping the white sink. You saw him, right there. Dancing in the middle of the frat house’s living room with a girl in his arms. Na Jaemin, the boy you’ve been talking with for 3 months now, who recently just texted you “are you up?” on 9.15, and when you replied to him that you’re actually at his frat house, attending the party that Jaehyun hosts, he just texted you back one hour later by saying he’s with his family.

You’re malfunctioning right now, still dazed, don’t know whether it's because of the alcohol, the weed Lucas gave you, or it’s just you- believing his cheap lies. Cause when you think about it, who the fuck leaves the campus, go home and spend time with family in finals month? Yeah, you’re the one who’s dumb here, actually believing his lies. But who blames you for believing in the first place, anyway? You and your sorority sisters have arrived here since 8.30 anyway, an hour and half is long enough to get you lightheaded from the shots you take.

You glanced at your watch, it’s only 11.28 pm. About an hour since you read his text, and practically 34 minutes after you literally saw him. Facepalming yourself, you close the toilet seat and sit above it. It’s not even right in the middle of the night, but it has been a wild ride for you. It’s kinda frustrating when you are the one who actually started this game, you knew Jaemin is hell of a playboy on campus, yet you decided to get some taste of it just because he’s being a real gentleman with sweet words to you. Yeri was actually furious when she saw Jaemin dropped you off at the sorority house a few weeks ago, she warned you that you should dump him before you’re too attached, but you won’t listen. There it is, the fruit of not listening to Yeri’s 40 minutes lecture of how you should avoid men like Jaemin, Lucas, Yuta, Ten, Johnny and Jaehyun in your love life, big disappointment.

Finally catching your breath, you decided that it is time you get back outside, and actually do something about it, rather than being all somber and gloomy. Jaehyun threw a goddamn frat party in the middle of finals month to relax the fellow students’ mind, not for you to dwell on your sadness, in the bathroom. It’s embarrassing. And a disgrace for your sorority.

You head out, spotting Lucas who’s leaning by the counter with Hendery and Jungwoo. They’re probably hitting more blunt and having some existential crisis over a potato chip wrapping. You continue to scan across the house, only to catch a sight of Joy busy making out with Sungjae on the couch. Or Yeri, who’s currently twerking to Doja Cat’s song, totally shitfaced. You sighed, your friends are either high, shitfaced, or sucking a boy’s face out. You really wanna continue your search for your other sisters, but then suddenly a light brown haired boy appears in front of you.

“Hey, y/n, you alright? You look like you’ve been through 4 divorces.” he asks as he stares at you, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I just went through a fucking divorce. With your homeboy.” you answer him absentmindedly, pointing to the black haired boy who is wearing a black-white patterned wool sweater and a red shirt underneath, along with his slate-grey suit pants and a silver necklace. The boy in the topic is currently talking with the girl you saw earlier, being all smiley and shit.

Mark just laughs lightly as he sips his beer, “Oh him? Yeah he’s quite a busy boy. Probably went through countless divorces with half of the campus.” you chuckle at him, he knows what you’re talking about. All these girls never even had a proper official relationship with Jaemin, including you, but always ended up getting a nasty ass divorce without any reason. You know that, but you did not expect that you’d hang on up until now.

“You wanna do something about it?” Mark asks, nudging your elbow. He’s in a helpful mood now, probably because he is still not completely shitfaced or high. You glance at him, giving him a questioned look.

“Well.. I mean I would do it, but what? Kissing you in front of him so that he’ll get jealous? No, Mark. You know that his head is made out of a fucking rock, right?” You answer him, seizing his beer and take a big ass gulp.

“Hey, that’s my beer- What? Kiss you? Gross, dude. If you are looking for that guy, might as well run to Lucas or Jungwoo.” he lifts his eyebrows, slightly engrossed. You laugh at him, he’s a funny guy when he reacts to your silly jokes.

“Do I look like I wanna give you a kiss, Mark? No offense, but I don’t like crackly lipped boys.” you tease him, now he’s pouting and starts touching his lips, “Is it too crackly though? You have a lipbalm or something?” he asks

You continue to laugh while fishing the watermelon lipbalm out from your black leather jacket and pass it to him. He muttered a small thanks. You set the beer aside to the table then face him once more.

“Anyways, what should I do?” you eye him, who is now done applying the lipbalm.

“Drop your drink to the girl or something? Make sure he notices you dude.” he suggests, shrugging his shoulder.

“You’re dumb, Mark. It’ll cause a fucking catfight in the middle of party.” you deadpanned.

“Oh yeah, you have a point.” he swept his hair to the side, glancing at the whole party situation. That’s when you get the idea. Scratch kissing other boys in front of him, it’s probably the right time to call him the fuck out, you already have alcohol running in your system anyways, might as well go all out tonight, since everybody else also seems like already intoxicated by the liquors.

You lightly brush your hair, stretching your neck and praying to god that he’ll forgive you for what you are about to do. “Toodles, Mark. I’ll think a way when I get drunk, soon enough.” you wave him a goodbye, heading to the dining table to get a bottle of vodka, it’s half empty though, considering you’re being pessimistic tonight.

You chug the bottle with no mercy, wishing it’ll bring you straight to intoxication. You start to feel it kicking in, when you finish the last drop of the vodka. Banging the bottle to the nearby table, you make your way to Jaemin, who is currently sitting on the staircase by himself, checking his phone.

“Ooh, busy boy, aren’t you?” you ask him, not giving anymore fucks. He looks up to you, who is currently squinting at him, face reddening from the alcohol heat. He stares at you, biting his lip.

“Y/n. You’re drunk.” he says lightly as he stands up, tucking strands of your hair to the back of your ear. You squirm from his action. As much as you want to punch him in the face for playing with your emotions, you really miss his touch.

“I am not! Jaemiiiiin, why did you lie to meeeee?” you whine loudly to him on purpose, placing his hand on your face, pouting. Your plan worked, a few people turned their heads to you and Jaemin. He just sighs and snorts, smelling the strong liquor scent that slipped out of your lips. You can feel Yeri is probably trying to kill you with her glare, you know how much she hates Jaemin.

“Listen, baby, what are you trying to pull?” Jaemin whispers close to your ear. You’re not that sure whether it’s because of the loud music blasting in the whole house, or it’s just Jaemin’s voice. Whatever it is, your ears are tingling, sending funny sensations down to your spine.

Jaemin is pissed, you know it damn well from his tone, stern and strong. Oh yes, you love it so much, pissing him off, probably you’ll start humiliating him more and more in his own frat home, because that’s what he deserves for playing with you, and some other random girls.

“Don’t baby me, Jaemin! You said you were with your family, and then I saw you with some random girl!” you shout. At this point, you don’t really care about what others think of you, because they can clearly see you’re being drunk and probably will shrug it off. If that’s what it takes to call Jaemin out in a huge crowd, then you’ll take it. You have nothing to lose, anyway, they’ll agree with you, they all know Jaemin is a big flirt.

And there it is, the anger and humiliation fills Jaemin up. He pulls your wrists, practically dragging you upstairs. You liked it, don’t know why, it’s just fun, making him mad when it’s actually you, who should’ve been mad in the first place. He rushes you to get into his shared bedroom with Jeno and Renjun. Amused, you quickly sit on his bed, acting like you’re dumb.

He shuts the door behind him, crossing his arms. “What’s this all about, baby?”

You snort, “I think you know, Jaemin. You’ve been messing around me for 2 months- or what, I actually lost count because you’re such a busy boy.”

He widen his eyes, “I don’t-”

“Oh shut up, are you surprised that I actually last longer than all your pretty girls?” you stand up, you can’t contain the anger anymore.

“Listen, baby, I-”

“I said, don’t baby me when you do that to probably other 7 girls!” you shout, glaring at him, who is currently freezing on his space.

He sighs and sweeps his hair in frustration, licking his lips. “Will you listen to me first, at least?”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms while glancing at his study desk. Nicely decorated, and you can see his family photograph neatly placed in a small frame. You noticed that he’s quite a reader too, judging from his book collection compared to Jeno and Renjun.

“First, I gotta admit, you last longer than other girls, yes. And second, it’s because I want to keep you-” he starts, taking a seat next to you,

You scoffed, “Keep me? You think I’m some kind of puppy that follows you around, Jaemin? You’re being such a dick right now! Do you think that I’m just some kind of wh-”

“Can you not interrupt me, baby? I’m talking.” he growls, placing his hand to your thigh. You can feel your cheeks heat up from his actions. Jaemin, being Jaemin, can sense that you’re actually flustered, he lightly squeeze your thigh, just to see your cheeks redden even more. God, he’s such a flirt.

“But first, I got to be honest with you, I was torn between ghosting you or continuing. That explains the lie a lot.” he clears his throat, looking into your eyes. You’re not giving him a reaction (except the fact that you’re already as red as a fucking cooked lobster from his hand placement), just like he said, don’t interrupt him.

“I mean- after all those messing around, I grow tired of it. I-I don’t even want to flirt anymore, I want to be comforted.. Those girls, those people.. They know I’m not serious and they do the same, y/n. We just kinda.. Have a good time and dipped.”

You’re still sitting in silence, eyes fixed on Jaemin, who now looks flustered. This is not Jaemin at all, he’s usually cocky, cheeky, and flirty, just exactly like a few seconds ago. He usually throws wink here and there, but now he actually looks… vulnerable.

“I was surprised you’re still holding on for like 3 months.. Those girls won’t even last for 2 days, y/n. It’ll end up me ghosting them or vice versa, no one ever had a second date with me. But you, you can’t seem to give up when I’m not replying, don’t you?” he chuckles as he looks at you softly,

You giggle at him a little, “Yes. I’m THAT dumb, Jaemin.” you admit to him. In reality, you know it, you know when he’s not replying, he’s probably with some other girls. But you are being deadass, you just don’t know what possessed you, you just keep on texting him like it’s nothing.

He rubs the back of his neck, “I was actually scared that you’ll dump me when I develop actual feelings to you.. Or worse, what if I break your heart after we have something? I mean, if I have to, I’d break it now, so the pain is not too harsh. That’s why I keep on lying to you, and maybe, not replying to your messages.”

At first, you feel bad from hearing him speak truthfully. But after he opened his mouth again, you can feel the anger slowly rising again through your veins. He is very very selfish and self-centered. Is this how he show his true color? A man with a big ego? That’s it?

You tilted your head, “Fuck you. Really. Then why did you start the conversation, Jaemin? You could’ve told me how you felt and we’re set. But I can see-”

He shakes his head, interrupting your words, “I-I told you, y/n. I’m very torn between wanting to pursue you, or letting you go. That’s why I often not replying right after I texted you. I’m sorry, I really do.”

You’re angry. You’re sad. But you’re confused that you’re a little happy too, hearing him speak from the bottom of his heart. But that’s very selfish of him, doing those acts to you. He could’ve told you what he actually feels way earlier than this, so you can make sure what are you two doing, instead of playing pointless games of ghosting and chasing around again.

“I see. You’re so fucking selfish, Jaemin. We talked for months and this is all I got? Am I not worth of your explanation from the start? I know you wouldn’t do anything if I hadn’t drag your ass in the middle of the fucking party!” you stand up, you can no longer hide your disappointment to him, tears start rolling down your face.

His heart breaks a little, watching bundle of tears fall from your eyes. He is the heartbreaker, but those girls were never crying when he ghosted them after they had fun, those girls would catch another boys and forget about Jaemin right away. This is Jaemin’s first ever experience, seeing a girl crying because of what he did.

He knows that he’s an asshole for playing fire, but now he feels like he is THE asshole. He broke your heart right on, and it breaks his heart right back.

You sigh deeply, trying to catch a breath after a few sobs. “Don’t fucking find me. Have fun with your girls.” you look at his eyes with full of anger and hate. With heavy steps, you walk to the door, thinking about things you’re about to do once you get downstairs, probably joining Lucas and the gang, stoning yourself out, so you don’t have to think about Jaemin and his stupid beautiful face.

Just when you try to reach the door knob, you can feel Jaemin is grabbing onto your hand.

“Y/n, I am truly sorry.. After what you did earlier, I realized that I’m a big fucking loser. I can’t even admit my feelings. When you call me out earlier, I just wanna dissolve into thin air. I can’t handle the shame of being such a dick, I should’ve told you what I feel instead of making uncertain decisions.”

You turn to him, seeing his eyes glimmering, probably because of the tears pooling up. You’re hurt, you want to push him away as far as possible, you want to see him suffer. Hell, you just want him to extinct. But seeing him like this, you can’t lie to your own feelings, you like him. You really do. But just like your sorority sisters taught you, yourself comes first, not those stupid silly boys who just fuck around.

“Goodbye, Jaemin.” you say to him, holding back more tears coming in.

Just when you’re getting ready to reach the doorknob for the second time, he pulls you into his arms. You want to let go of him, but he’s strong, and you- actually wanting this for so long. You hate him, but you have feelings for him. You can’t help but stay on his embrace.

And then... There it is, the feels. It comes back, the way you hide yourself from Yeri whenever you pick up his calls, or maybe the late night drive to nearby McDonalds, or maybe flirting through the notes you pass during class, or maybe the first kiss you shared with him in front of your sorority house, and ended up being scolded by Yeri and Joy.

You realized that it was a stupid crush with the stupid playboy Na Jaemin, but you enjoyed your time with him. You remembered how he likes to send you goodnight selfies, or maybe the way he pouts a lot when driving. Those 3 months of on-and-off-unofficial-relationships with him, is actually making you feel things.

“Y/n, I know I don’t deserve you, but really.. This time, I mean it. I promise, I won’t mess around. Please, I know I’ve been such a dick, but if you just give me one more chance, y/n.. But I completely understand, if you hate me, and you probably want to slam me to death, and I will allow you-”

You look up to him and grabbed his face, crashing his lips into yours. He tastes like cherry soda, with a hint of cigarettes. He seems like enjoying the kiss, he cupped your cheeks as he deepened the kiss. You can feel his hands travel around your body, only to land in your hips.

You want to trust him this time. He promised you. He meant it. He will take care of you. And you trust him, this time.

“Alright, busy boy. I do want to slam you, though... But remember, just because you’re so damn fine, I won’t even think twice to dump your ass if you act up.” you warn him.

The tears you shed just bloomed into giggles and smiles. The inconsistency between the 3 months before finally disappeared, and reborn again into a new promise.

He nods. “Believe me baby, you’re the one who wants to be slammed right now.” he teases you, glancing to his bed. You can feel your cheeks reddening again, you lightly hit him, and he laughs. He’s a cheeky boy.

“Busy boy, huh?” he giggles, “Your busy boy.”

The anger within you is released now. No more chasing around like a fool, no more getting late replies from Jaemin, no more nights of hoping that he’d reply, because he’s only busy for you now.

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mandysimo13 · 3 years ago

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@theycantstopthesignal asked for Addams Family AU. Tall order, but I’ll do my best! Hope a reworking of a scene the 1991 movie will suffice!

///

Hannibal leads Will into their ballroom, a room that is both large and intimate. The greenhouse style glass that encases the room leaves one feeling like a curious insect or delectable treat under glass with. It’s one of their favorite rooms in this decrepit mansion they call home. The couple are followed into the room by Francis Dolarrhyde, Bedelia du Maurier, Abbigail Hobbs, Frederick Chilton, Freddie Lounds, and Tobias Budge. Tonight, they celebrate with their clan, adding a new member to their found family of misfits, psychopaths, miscreants, freaks, and murderers.

“Francis,” Hannibal calls, beckoning their newcomer front and center.

“Dr. Lecter?”

Hannibal smiles, Will chuckles softly under his breath. “No need for titles here, Francis. We are not patient and doctor, interrogator and suspect, or cat and mouse. Hannibal will do just fine.” Without waiting for a reply, he sweeps his arm across the room, gesturing past chairs, couches, and tables that are covered in dust cloths. “Tonight, you meet the rest of your family. We must set the stage for your debut.”

Family is a foreign concept for Francis. Before his chance encounter with Hannibal and Will, family had meant being seen and not heard and being seen or heard came with consequences. Painful ones. He inadvertently cringed at the word and attempted to brush off the creeping feeling. This would be different. Everyone in this room had their sins, every single one of them a monster of their own becoming. He was assured, quite passionately, that he would fit right in.

“I still can’t believe it,” Francis said, voice full of quiet awe. “A party, just for me.”

Will stepped forward to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s a bit of a ritual. Everyone deserves a rite of passage. A baptism, a b'nei mitzvah, a debut,” he turned to Hannibal and smiled fondly at him, finishing the thought, “a rebirth.”

Hannibal sought out Will’s hand once more, voice dripping with love, “Mano meilė.” He brought Will’s hand to his lips, placing a lingering kiss across his scarred knuckles. Having eyes only on him, for the moment anyway, he drew Will to him. Arms came around Will’s waist as he swung him into a waltz’s first position. “Tell me, my love. How long has it been since we waltzed.”

Unable to contain the grin that always resulted from Hannibal’s adoring attention, Will gripped Hannibal’s leading hand in acquiescence. “Oh, it’s been an age. Hours, at least.”

Without another thought to the crowd watching them, Hannibal began leading Will around the ballroom and together, between steps, they began ripping sheets off the furniture. Lost in a tune only they could hear, they were lost to each other for the foreseeable future.

Francis was at a loss for words. He had never seen such love, hadn’t known that it was possible. He must have been gawking because Abbigail nudged him in the ribs and said, “before you ask, yes. They’re always like this.”

“We tend to just...navigate around them,” Bedelia added, taking a sip of her wine before sauntering off to begin the dusting.

Tobias came to shake his hand. “Welcome to the family.” He gripped his hand tighter and pulled him in for a whisper. “Just stay away from my hunting grounds.” Without a word, he stalked off to begin his own chores.

Freddie began taking pictures of the process. When she noticed Francis looking she said, “a picture says a thousand words. It’s best to be the one to control the narrative, no?” She smiled broadly and then laughed when he looked unsure at how to answer. “For the family newsletter, of course.”

He had a feeling it wasn’t just for the family newsletter.

Lastly, Frederick came over, cane clicking all the way. When he stood at Francis’ side he said without preamble, “they’ve all tried to kill me, you know.”

That shocked Francis. If this is how family is to be, maybe he didn’t want it. “Why?”

“Oh, I assure you, in many respects I had it coming.” He watched everyone busy themselves around the room, a wry smile on his lips. “You’ll try, too one day.”

“I would never!”

“’Never name the well from which you shall not drink’,“ Frederick quoted. “Much like this party, trying to kill me has become a bit of a tradition. A bit of an initiation. Truth be told, now don’t go telling them this,” he leaned in to whisper in his ear, “I rather like the attention.” When Francis couldn’t come up with an answer, Frederick tapped his cane in parting and said, “you’ll fit right in. Enjoy the party!” Without another word, he sauntered off to watch the preparations.

Francis could do nothing but stand off to the side to watch. They chatted, they laughed, they danced, they whispered behind glasses and hands, and watched each other out of the sides of their eyes. The air was choked with fondness and rivalry. He felt the dragon stir beneath his skin and for once, it felt like a glove and not a stranglehold. For once, it approved of his attention on other people.

Yes. He would fit right in.

#addams family au #hannigram #hannibal #ficlet #fic prompt #my writing

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phis-corner · 4 years ago

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statue of ice

yes i am still updating this fic lmao

main masterlist ◈ maribat masterlist ◈ ao3 link

She only lasts a few weeks before caving and telling her brother that she’s Ladybug.

The Guardian – Fu is his name – was vehemently against revealing her identity again, already annoyed that she’d told Jason. Privately, Marinette thinks that Fu can “go fuck himself”, and maybe Jason would have said it out loud, but she does not.

Instead, she ignores his wishes and tells Tim anyway.

To his credit, her brother isn’t even surprised. He just quirks a smile during their scheduled video call and says in a light voice, “I guess it runs in the family, then, doesn’t it?”

Marinette is inclined to agree. After all, what are the odds that both of them ended up being protectors of two cities?

.o0o.

A week later, Tim calls her to confirm Marinette’s suspicions that Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth.

“He’s slippery. Paid to have all the security cameras around his home removed, but I traced akuma sightings on social media and marked them on a map and what do you know, his house was right in the center of the circle. I also checked out the property. He literally has a butterfly window, Mari. Everything in his house is butterfly patterned. It checks out.”

“Thank you, Tim-Tam. I’ll take care of it from here,” Marinette says. Her mind is already working, forming a plan to take Gabriel down. Permanently.

It has to be public. The city wouldn’t believe it otherwise, and some are already accusing Ladybug and Chat Noir of creating the akumas themselves so that they can make themselves look good by defeating them.

Exposing Gabriel as Hawkmoth would cause the downfall of his company and result in the loss of thousands of jobs, but Audrey Bourgeois had a Parisian branch of Style Queen that was still fairly new and looking for employees, and she knows that Audrey would most likely hire all of Gabriel’s employees out of spite.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to help?” her brother asks. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

She knows. She wants so, so badly not to do it alone, to have her brother by her side as she faces down a magic user that could turn her into a puppet in the blink of an eye if she allowed herself to feel just a little bit too much, but she can’t bring him into this. Can’t bring anyone else into this. Tim already spends his nights stopping rapists and murderers and seeing all the horrors that Gotham has to offer. He doesn’t need to see what Paris throws at its people as well.

“It’s a miraculous matter, Tim-Tam,” Marinette says instead of voicing any of those thoughts. “Besides, bringing anyone else in puts them at risk of akumatization. It’s best to keep as few people involved as possible.”

“Okay then,” Tim responds, not fully managing to hide the disappointment and apprehension in his voice. “Good luck, Mari.”

The corners of her lips twitch upwards in a tiny smile. “I am the living embodiment of good luck, Tim-Tam. It will be alright.”

.o0o.

It is easy to poke and prod at Gabriel’s ego until he thoughtlessly lunges, crashing through his own window onto the street below when she dances out of his way.

Ladybug follows, dropping and rolling with a familiarity that comes from being forced to do that same motion countless times, and she toys with him, dodging, ducking, but never really attacking, until the news helicopters start circling overhead.

Chat Noir arrives just as she sweeps Gabriel’s legs out from underneath him, and he doesn’t quite manage to stifle his gasp of horror, all irritation at Ladybug for taking Hawkmoth down without him forgotten when he sees who is underneath the mask.

Ladybug may find Chat Noir (Adrien Agreste, she reminds herself,) a nuisance at best, but she is not heartless. She knows what it’s like, to want to believe that one’s parents are good people. She knows what it’s like when that illusion one tries so hard to maintain finally shatters, and it’s something that nobody deserves to experience.

Chat’s face hardens as Ladybug starts murmuring words in an ancient tongue underneath her breath, casting a spell on his father, who gave up the fight as soon as the butterfly was removed from his hands, to ensure that Gabriel will never be able to touch another miraculous again. He won’t be able to exist within three feet of one.

It’s a good thing she chooses that spell too, because it protects Gabriel from his son’s wrath.

As the authorities are cuffing his hands behind his back, something cold settles in Chat Noir’s eyes as he calls up a Cataclysm and lunges at his father, the clawed hand rippling with dark magic outstretched, ready to disintegrate a living, breathing human being.

Gabriel is yanked backward by an invisible force, pulled out of harm’s way, and Chat’s Cataclysm lands on a chunk of debris instead. The Black Cat is held back by his partner before he can try something else.

“Chat,” Ladybug hisses, as he struggles in her hold, still trying to go after his father, who is being put away into a police car. “It’s done. It’s over. He won’t hurt anyone ever again, and the justice system will deal with it.”

Chat Noir slowly starts to resist less and less at her words, and she takes that as a cue to continue. “It feels anticlimactic, and I know you want to do more. You think we should do more than just let them take him away, because you’ve been fighting on the front lines of this battle since the beginning. But our part is over. Our duty has been fulfilled. He won’t be acquitted, if that’s any consolation. There are mountains of evidence against him.”

Her partner turns around, suddenly, and buries his face into her shoulder as his body jerks with what she realizes are sobs. He’s crying,Ladybug realizes. He’s crying for his father. For who he thought his father was.

When was the last time she cried for one of her parents?

Ladybug reaches a hand up and awkwardly pats Chat Noir on the back for a moment before she spots the reporters.

“Let’s take this to our usual meeting spot,” she whispers to her partner, and he nods, composing himself in an instant. Janet would have liked Adrien, she thinks. Gabriel’s parenting style was evidently similar to how Marinette had grown up.

Five minutes later, they’re standing on the Eiffel Tower, overlooking the city they’d sacrificed so much to protect.

“This is it, isn’t it?” Chat Noir asks, turning to her. “This is the end? There’s no use for us anymore.”

Ladybug inhales slowly, taking in the view from above one last time and committing it to memory. Not that she needs to – her eidetic memory ensures that she’ll never forget. It’s for the sentiment, she supposes.

“Yes,” she murmurs. “We have to give them back now. Say goodbye to our kwamis.” She’ll miss Tikki’s company, she thinks, but not as much as she misses Jason’s. The kwami was sweet, yes, but she didn’t understand Marinette’s need to do something other than being Ladybug.

“Where do we even return them to?” Chat questions, and then she remembers that he’d never been told of the Guardian’s existence.

Ladybug unhooks her yoyo from her side, tossing it up and down one last time as she prepares to swing. “Follow me,” she says, and then she throws the yoyo and leaps off the side of the Tower.

.o0o.

Fu’s massage parlor is just as inconspicuous as ever, and somehow, no one is walking along the street when Ladybug and Chat Noir enter.

The Guardian has been expecting them – there are three cups of tea sitting on the table in front of him.

“Ladybug, Chat Noir, please sit,” he says in his wheezy voice. They oblige, but the tea remains untouched on the table.

“Chat Noir, it is time to return your miraculous,” Fu states, and the two of them stiffen, immediately picking out what’s wrong with that sentence.

“Why am I not included?” Ladybug inquires, her polite tone holding an undercurrent of danger. “There cannot be a Ladybug without a Black Cat.”

“Well, you see, you won’t be using the Ladybug,” the Guardian explains with a slightly condescending look on his face. “But there can only be one Guardian, and I’ve chosen you to be my successor.”

The sound of Ladybug’s palms slamming on the table makes the other two people in the room jump. “Absolutely not,” she declares as she stands up. “I did not agree to become the Guardian. This has never been discussed.”

Fu looks up at her with confused eyes. “But you became a candidate when you agreed to put on the earrings, and Chat Noir is simply not fit for the job.” Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Chat Noir wince, but he does not disagree.

“I put on the earrings because people were dying,” Ladybug growls. “Because this city needed something, someone, to look up to, and there was no other viable option. The Guardian is never in the light. They spend the rest of their extended lives hiding in the shadows to protect a box of magical jewelry. The Guardian is not a symbol of hope, because nobody knows the Guardian exists. I put on the earrings to be a symbol of hope, not because I wanted to, but because people needed one. The people don’t need one anymore, and I don’t want to continue doing this.”

“I was fighting a war, Fu,” she spits, furious words laced with venom. “I was fighting a war with one ally by my side and we were both children. Now that the war is over, I am no longer needed, so I am leaving. I want the shreds of innocence I had before this war back, but that is not possible, so I can at least try to move on from this instead. Let me move on.”

Without warning, she reaches up and carefully takes the earrings out of her ears. She would have loved to rip them off in one swift movement, but earrings were not that type of jewelry. The Ladybug suit disappears in a flash of pink, and then she is Marinette again, standing in a massage parlor with a pair of red-and-black earrings in her hand and two sets of wide eyes fixed on her.

“Marinette,” Chat Noir breathes. “Oh my god, I… I’m so sorry.”

Marinette drops the earrings on the table in front of them. “Are you sorry for being an ass, or just sorry because the person you convinced yourself you were in love with was an illusion?” she asks, not looking at anyone or anything in particular as she pivots on her heel and strides for the exit.

When she reaches the doorway, however, she pauses, eyes still fixed straight ahead of her. “Oh, and Adrien?” she calls, eliciting two identical noises of surprise. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. About your father, of course.”

Then she opens the door and walks through, never once looking back as she sees the city that once weighed so heavily on her shoulders from the ground looking up, instead of from above, gazing down.

.o0o.

She’d spent some time wondering how she was going to adjust to life in Paris after that, knowing what she knew about Adrien and Gabriel and what Adrien knew about her.

As it turns out, she only has to go through one week of feeling Adrien’s green eyes on her at every available moment in class and going out of her way to avoid him, because her mother dies.

It’s surprisingly anticlimactic.

Janet Drake was always such a formidable woman. Her mere presence in a room could make grown men cower. To Marinette, she seemed almost invincible – always superior to everyone else, untouchable as she lashed out with quick with and a sharp tongue and long nails digging into her children’s shoulders. If there were ever any cracks in Janet’s façade, if it even wasa façade, she’d never seen one.

And yet, in the end, it turned out that she wasn’t untouchable after all. She’d died because she drank poisoned water out of desperation, even as Batman was right there. Batman had arrived to save them, he had freed them from their bonds, and the first thing they did was drink water poisoned with nerve toxin. Jack had survived, though he was in a coma and paralyzed.

Janet did not.

And that was it. That was the end of a woman that had dominated Marinette’s life for so long, a woman whose voice still hissed and lingered in her mind, reminding her to sit still and be silent and never, ever let your emotions show on your face.

Tim – he’d never had that mindset thrust upon him as forcefully as she did. After all, Tim had a father that didn’t despise him for his gender. Jack took charge of molding the son, and so Tim is crying, when he tells her all of this. He thinks he’s being subtle, but she’s his sister. She knows better.

Marinette didn’t care for her mother much, but she supposes she could give the dead at least some modicum of respect.

So as she packs her bags and books the next available flight to Gotham City, Marinette honors her mother’s wishes and does not shed a single tear for Janet Lynn Drake.

statue of ice

@whydoexamsexist @myazael @miyla-lokidottir @ira-sairain @zalladane @frieddonutsweets @moonlightstar64 @karategirl198-blog @consumeconstantly @maybe-nonsense @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @ola-is-dead @bee-wrecker @jeminiikrystal @neromerp13 @artemisdragona @severelyenchantedwonderland @miraculouslydumb @pepelachanel @stainedglassm @nyx-in-line @heldtogetherbysafetypins @silversaphire12 @zalladane @theymakeupfairies @thefoxandthewolfs @m0chik0furan

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@wannajointhecrabcult @miraculous-simmer7 @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @fantasyislive @chocolateherringtacofan @alyssadeliv @susiej1118 @aestheticnpoetic @toodaloo-kangaroo @ladybug-182 @itsmeevie01 @g-arya @souleateralicestein @nightstarblue @i-is-mysterious @moonystars14 @vixen-uchiha @flapdoodle-noodle @labschaos @nathleigh @jalaluvsu @kaithehero @iamablinkmarvelarmy @luveverything12 @technicallyburninggarden @crazylittlemunchkin

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#maribat #my writing #statue of ice au

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softboywriting · 4 years ago

Text

Hard To Love | Nathan Bateman | Ex Machina

Summary: You’re Nathan’s personal assistant. He’s an insufferable bastard. Both of you have unchecked tension and feelings for each other. What could possibly go wrong? [swearing] [sexual themes/situations] [arguments] [exhibitonism - implied] [pining] [Dominant!Nathan] [Nickname use - pet name/non derogatory] [Nathan being Nathan] [nsfw - kissing, lap sitting/grinding, heavily implied masturbation!f reader] [F!reader/Nathan]

Word Count: 7k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Nathan is...well... Nathan. Insufferable, workaholic, egotistical. He is a lot to handle and doing so isn't always easy. You had a lot of breakdowns, screaming matches, some nearly coming to blows. But you didn't give up and you learned to work around him, and coax him out of moods, serve him back the same dry humor and disinterest. After finding out he had gone through four assistants, two that never made it past their first week, you knew you couldn't give up on him. There was a diamond in the rough and you were going to find it because despite all of the hard times, you care for him. He's a fucking bastard, but he's your fucking bastard.

"It's been six months." Nathan says over breakfast one morning.

You look back from where you're cleaning up the pans you used to make his vegetable omelet with soy egg substitute. His favorite. You had taken over cooking from Kyoko three months ago when she began to malfunction. You're not sure what happened, or if maybe Nathan staged the malfunction to give you more to do. You suspect the latter.

"Six months? Really?"

"Don't act like you don't count the days."

"I don't actually." You set your plate of food on the table and he reaches for one of your toasts. He has his own, well, had. He ate it already but he has egg left so he wants more toast. "I stopped months ago."

He chuckles softly. "I still don't know why you won't quit."

"Why do you want me to?"

"I don't."

"Then why do you bring it up?" You raise your eyebrows and he shoots you a look over his vitamin water. "Cat got your tongue?"

Nathan folds his hands, elbows on the table as he shakes his head. "Most people in your position, having dealt with what you have dealt with, would be itching to get as far away as possible. Surely you must be mentally unstable to stay with me, gaining some sick pleasure from our fights and shit. I almost feel bad."

He almost feels bad, as if he were to blame for nothing. Typical. "And if I am fucked up? Gonna fire me?"

"Fuck no."

You smile over your coffee. Decaf. He won't have regular in the house after he nearly went into cardiac arrest from an over abundance of caffeine. He did it to himself. Slugging back redbulls with his vodka after drinking his pre-work out mix that had far more than he needed in it. He may be a technical genius but he can be such a fucking moron.

"You like me." You tease, rubbing your barefoot on his leg under the table. "You would miss me if I left."

He snorts indignantly but does not deny your observations.

"How was the food?"

"Perfect." He sits back, foot bumping yours now, running up the side. "Don't know how you do it."

"Perfect? Wow. High praise from you." You swat his foot away with yours and he starts trying to pin it down by stepping on it. "Better than Kyoko's?"

Nathan hums. "I programmed her with cooking skills from top chefs across the internet. Technically she should be the greatest chef on the planet. So the fact that you can make me food that is better floors me."

You hook your ankle around his and he lets out a little grunt. "Cooking is an act of love. Yes you can program an AI to make things perfectly but technical skill doesn't equate to preferred taste. Come on, Nathan, you're smarter than this."

"Questioning my intelligence now?"

"Every day." You jerk your leg back as he lifts his other foot to trap it. "Cheat! You cheater! One foot only!"

Nathan lets out a boisterous laugh, head falling back, hand over his chest. "You get so worked up over that!"

You roll your eyes and stab your eggs viciously. "Fuck off Nathan."

"No need to get so mouthy."

"Mouthy." You scoff. "Rich coming from you."

He stands, catching your chin in his grasp. "I got you to break."

"You- oh God damn it." You jerk away, arm extending to shove him.

He chuckles proudly to himself. "I'll be in my lab. Find me if you need me."

"Gonna let me in today?"

"I might."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll see you later."

____________________

Nathan could have the AI clean the house, but then you would run out of things to do. Honestly your job could be done by any one of his creations, humanoid or not. You don't actually need to be there at all, and yet Nathan keeps you around. For a man who is hell bent on privacy and secrecy surrounding his work, you have no idea how he has let others in. He laughs when he says that he had the men who built the complex killed after the fact. Surely it's a joke. You think. Though you've never asked, never dared to investigate the truth in his words. It's best you don't know.

The house doesn't need cleaning that often. Just laundry, dishes, some sweeping and mopping should you or Nathan track in mud after a hike. Most chores take a few hours out of one day a week. Your title is assistant and yet you don't actually assist him. Not in his work anyway. You feel like your title should be maid or housekeeper. It's fine, you really don't care because he pays you so generously that you would do whatever he needs you to.

"Kitten!" Nathan's voice comes from the intercom system built in the house. "Come to the lab, kitten."

You scowl at the nickname. He dubbed you Kitten your second day at the complex because he thought your wandering around perplexed by the maze like design of the house was akin to a new kitten trying to find its way in the world. You suppose there could be worse names he could call you, and there are ones that have come out in screaming matches, but kitten has stuck.

"Lab. Now. Come on."

"Fuck." You groan, tossing aside your book you were getting very into.

"I heard that."

"Of course you did." You lift your badge and scan the door to your room to head out into the hall. One of the AI walks by and you think her name is Lily. She's beautiful. Unfortunately her programming has failed and she cannot speak. "Hi Lily."

Lily raises her hand in greeting.

If she is out then that must mean Nathan has been working on her. You turn away from the AI and walk down the hall to the junction that splits left to Nathan's room and right to another hall that goes to the lab and test rooms. The lab door is open, the light blue on the access pad.

Nathan spins around in his chair. "Kitten, you've made it."

"As if I could get lost."

"I have something to show you."

"Do you? I thought you didn't want me involved in your work."

Nathan gives you a hard look. "Do you want to fucking see it or not?"

"I don't even know what it is."

He grabs a small item off his desk and brings it to you. "This is it. My newest AI."

You take the small flash drive from him and turn it over in your hands. "This is a new program?"

"Yes. My best work yet. I'm going to build her this week."

"Exciting."

"Please show some enthusiasm for fucks sake." He snatches the device from your hand. "I'm kind enough to share this with you, you could at least say thank you."

"I never asked."

Nathan slaps the flash drive down on the desk and stares at you. He is not used to being served his own cold attitude and he never will be. Since you started going toe to toe with him, he has been on top of his game. It's like you engage his mind beyond his massive ego. "You're insufferable."

"Likewise." You smile and he smiles back. The pissing match has ended. "I need to get groceries soon."

"You know what I like."

"Of course I do." You fold your arms over your chest and he averts his eyes for a moment. You know he's staring at your breasts, pushed up in the tank top you had chosen to wear while deep cleaning your bathroom earlier. "But what do you want?"

"Loaded question, kitten."

"Going that route today?"

"Maybe." He saunters towards you and catches your hair between his fingers. "I want... something sweet."

You raise your eyebrows. "You're craving sugar? Are you ill?"

He chuckles. "A little. Just in the head."

"Seriously."

"Yes I want something sweet. Get me some donuts." He puts his hands on his hips. "Get yourself something too."

"I always get myself stuff. Do you think I only buy your groceries?"

"It's my house, of course I think you buy my shit."

You reach out and touch his beard, fingertips gliding along his cheek. You don't miss the way his eyes flutter at your touch. "Do you need your beard oil? The conditioner stuff? Looks dry."

He grabs your hand and curls his fingers around yours. "Yes, I do. But don't touch it."

"Possessive today huh?" You smirk and he groans irritably deep in his throat. "You live for my touch."

"I live for you to leave me the fuck alone."

"Then fire me."

"No."

"Then suffer." You bring your other hand up and pat his opposite cheek. "Does physical affection bother you Nathan? Does touching another human bother you so mu-"

He backs you against the wall and pins your wrists. His face is only inches from yours, body pouring heat onto you. It sparks something deep inside and you feel heat pooling in between your legs. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" He murmurs, grip tight on your skin.

"Don't you have some issues to work out?"

"Fuck you."

"You'd like to."

Nathan drops your wrists at that and retreats into the lab, the door closing and locking behind him. It drives him mad that you're not one of his AI that he can order around and do what he pleases with. You like to think that's why he keeps you around, to remind him that he's human and he needs someone that isn't an algorithm to keep him sane. Maybe he also let a little piece of you crave out a chunk of his icy cold heart.

You rub your wrists and look at the reddened skin. They might bruise. You straighten your clothes and head back to your room. You'll need to wear something more appropriate to the store. It's cold out these days.

_____________________

"Do you get lonely?" Nathan asks one evening over drinks in the lounge.

You put down your laptop and give him your attention. It's the first time he's spoken to you in two days since the wrist grabbing incident. "Lonely?"

"Yeah. Do you miss relationships? Hook ups?"

"Not really. I was never super social to begin with."

"Right."

"Why?"

"Just curious." He takes a long drink, emptying his tumbler. "Why do you think I want to fuck you?"

You feel your cheeks redden. The way he is staring at you makes your arousal rear its ugly head. Staring shouldn't turn you on. He hasn't done anything. "I think you're desperate."

"Desperate?"

"Yeah. You decommissioned Kyoko months ago, Lily doesn't have a vagina and yes I know this because you told me in a drunken stupor ages ago. So you haven't fucked anything or anyone in months."

"You think I need to fuck?"

You stand and walk over to him, knocking his knees open to stand between his legs. "Nathan, just fucking admit that you want me. That you keep me around because one day you'll grow a pair of balls and ask me to sleep with you."

His hands come up and grab your hips. He pulls you down and you straddle his lap, thin pajama pants hardly acting as a barrier between you and his cock in his gray sweats. "I keep you around because you piss me off." He grips your ass and you roll your hips against him. "You piss me off and make my blood boil like no one else."

"So you hate me?"

Nathan brings your head down to meet his. "I couldn't hate you if I tried."

"Then what are we doing?"

"We're having a moment." He grabs your hair and you snap at his nose with your teeth in response. "Behave."

You let out a moan as he begins kissing up your throat. "This was your plan all along."

"Do you ever shut up?"

"No."

"Then I'll make you." His hand closes around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you stop talking. "Why do you have to be so in my head? Why..." He kisses your shoulder, biting the junction between it and your neck. "Why did you have to show up?"

"You hired me." You whisper and he drops his hand from your throat in favor of sliding it up your shirt. "You selected me."

He rolls his hips up against you, biting down on your skin to elicit a yelp from you. "You're damn right I did."

You grind down against his cock and he grabs your hips to still them. You let out a soft whine from the lack of pleasure and he grips harder.

"Get up."

Your heart sinks, and you stare at him in confusion. "What?"

"Get up. We're not doing this." Nathan pushes you off of his lap and you stumble to your feet.

You straighten your clothes and walk around the coffee table to grab your laptop. You can't say you didn't expect this. It was a long shot to begin with and you initiated it so you knew he would shut it down. Still, it hurts. His rejection isn't disinterest, it's personal protection. He won't let anyone that close to his heart.

"Good night, Nathan." You mutter as you head for the doors to the inner workings of the complex.

"Night, Kitten."

_____________________

It is three days before you see Nathan again. Locking himself away isn't uncommon practice. It's a Thursday when you see him out on the deck with the punching bag. You happened to catch a glance when you were preparing breakfast as you had every day. He didn't eat with you, but you still made it for him and left it under the warmer. The plate was always gone when you came back, so at least you know he is eating.

You grab a few grapefruits from the basket on the counter and start juicing them. It'll be a nice surprise for him. You grab a cup from the cupboard and tilt the juicer to dump its contents for you. It looks good, smells tart but it is not your type of juice. Fitting for a man like Nathan. Bitter, tart and sort of hard to swallow. You rub a bit of the squeezed rinde around the top of the glass and grab the sugar dish to sprinkle some around the rim. A little sweet to lessen the bite, a representation of you in this metaphor.

"Kitten, good morning." Nathan says as you approach with his juice and a towel. "What's this?"

"Grapefruit."

He raises his eyebrows. "Fresh?"

"Yep." You hand him the glass and he inspects it suspiciously. "No poison. Promise."

A smile creeps it's way across his face as he gulps it down. He takes a moment at the end to lick the sugar clean from the rim, keeping his eyes on yours the whole time. It's far more sexual than you think it should be, and it was never your intent to get this response.

"Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes." You pass him the towel and take the glass.

Nathan scrubs the towel over his face and rests it around his neck. "I'm going for a hike later."

"Okay?"

"You're going with me." He turns back to the punching bag and starts his routine back up. "Be ready at nine."

You sigh. "Alright."

_____________________

Nathan's idea of a hike and your idea of a hike vary greatly. You view a hike as wandering around the forest along trails and seeing the beauty of nature before you. Leisurely pace, breaks, maybe a snack or two and some photos for the memories. Nathan however thinks hikes are treacherous climbs up cliffs and rock jumping across rivers and streams. He goes as quick as possible as if he's trying to get somewhere and he's going to be late. It's hardly relaxing.

"Come on, why are you so slow?" Nathan barks from atop a rock some several yards ahead of you.

You're panting, legs pushed to their limit from the half an hour long uphill climb you've just endured. You have no idea how he isn't even winded.

"Fuck off Nathan!" You huff, grabbing a scrubby looking tree for support as you haul yourself up over a broken chunk of the path. A game trail, not even a proper walking path.

He laughs, his voice echoing off the cliffs surrounding you. "You can do it, Kitten! Get that little ass up here!"

You finally reach him, your lungs threatening to explode. "First of all, this isn't a hike it's a rock climbing marathon." You hold a finger up to his face threateningly. "And second, my ass isn't little."

"Oh I know." He folds his arms over his chest.

"So you stare at my ass a lot then?"

"I'm a heterosexual man. Of course I'm going to look at your ass."

You roll your eyes. "Thanks for the objectification."

"You're welcome."

"Can we take a break here? My legs are killing me."

Nathan stretches his arms up and back. "This is why I brought you with me."

"Why?"

"So you can get some exercise. Your stamina is shit."

You glance to the drop off below then back at him. "You wanna keep insulting me?"

"Facts are not insults."

"I will push you off this cliff, Nathan."

He steps away from the edge and closer to you. He doesn't say anything about it. Doesn't apologize for the comments about your stamina and needing to work out more. He reaches for your face, plucking something off of your cheek. "Eyelash."

"Make a wish."

"Wishes are for children." He flicks his finger off to the side.

"I wish my boss would get his head out of his ass." You smirk triumphantly. "Is that a child's wish?"

Nathan flicks his eyes up and down your face, eyes settling on the bite bruise peaking out from under your sweatshirt collar. You had forgotten about it until this very moment, when you realize he hadn't seen it yet. "Is that mine?"

"Of course. Who else has been biting me out here in the middle of nowhere?" You reach up to touch it and he shoves your hand away to pull the fabric aside for himself.

"No one else can touch you."

Heat blossoms in your stomach at his jealousy tinged words. Possessive Nathan really does it for you. But he isn't your boyfriend. He is your boss. "I'm not yours Nathan."

His fingertips ghost over the nearly healed bruise. "Yes you are."

"I'm not."

"Then why don't you leave?"

You shove his hand off your shoulder and he gives you one of his famed deadly glares for doing something he doesn't like. "You don't want me. So I can't be yours."

"It's not that I don't want you, I can't have you." He turns and starts walking away, resuming the hike. How very like him. He says something stupidly cryptic that only makes sense to him. Whatever. You're not here for his affection and approval. You're here to be his assistant.

____________________

"I'm out of alcohol." Nathan states plainly, looking into the cupboard that usually has a few bottles of his favorite liquors. "Where is my shit?"

You look over from the fridge and smirk to yourself. "I thought you were on a detox again."

"I'm done with it. Where..." He turns and looks at you. "You didn't buy anything."

"Nope. I was told not to."

"By who?"

"You."

He purses his lips and looks around as if thinking about when he would have ever said that to you. He looks perplexed and you feel so smug. "Since when do you ever listen to me?"

You laugh softly. This is your fault now? Following his orders and not buying alcohol? Really.

"You're my boss. I usually follow your orders."

Nathan kicks the cupboard closed lightly. "Stop that."

"Stop what? Following your instructions?"

"Stop fucking with my head." He leans on the counter and takes his glasses off to dig his palms into his eyes. "You're so fucking irritating."

"Sure am." You gather some utensils from the counter that you left to dry and begin to put them away. "I live to make you suffer."

Nathan pulls his hands from his eyes and stares at you, eyebrows furrowed. It's like you're a puzzle and he's trying to see the solution. "Sometimes I wonder."

"You're being a baby."

"Excuse me?"

You walk over and stand in front of him, hands on your hips, mimicking his pose when he explains things to you. He doesn't fail to notice this as his eyes sweep over you in assessment and he raises his head as if challenging you. "You're only saying I'm irritating and making you suffer because you can't drink. It's been what? A week?"

"Eight days."

"A week. I'm sure you can make it another two weeks."

"You're fucking joking."

"Nope. I'm not going into town for groceries again until absolutely necessary. It's a three hour flight there and then back, remember?"

Nathan clenches the edge of the counter top with white knuckles.

"Get as pissed as you want." You lean in close and he nearly moves back. You know he won't back down from a challenge. "Maybe you'll have to face your demons sober. Maybe you'll figure your shit out."

"I didn't hire you to be my fucking therapist."

"Yet here I am."

Nathan pushes off the counter and grabs the bottle of water you set out for him before he goes off to lock himself in his lab for God knows how long. Ever since you came on to him he seems to be jumpy around you. You don't know why he won't just admit that he likes you, that he wants you. He is going to get blue balls sooner or later. Well, maybe not because he can jack off but actual sex isn't the same and you know he has a sex drive through the roof. You used to hear it at all hours of the morning before he deactivated Kyoko. You'd be lying if you said you didn't get off on it a few times.

_____________________

Days and days pass without a word from Nathan. Ten is now the most you've ever gone and after five you start to wonder if he is even in the house. Maybe he went for a walk and fell in the river. Maybe he pissed off his AI again and it finally strangled him. You would have no idea because the place is so huge and quiet for the most part. Aside from living quarters the complex is soundproofed. One would think Nathan's room beside yours would be for privacy but it's not. The freak. He wants people to hear him.

At the twelfth day mark you actually begin to worry. A twenty day sober Nathan may be a new kind of animal and you're not sure if you truly want to interact. Distance makes the heart grow fond though and while he is insufferable you do care for him and wish to see his stupid smug face. It's a risk but one you need to take.

The light on the lab door is red. Locked. You raise your key card and it buzzes, remaining red. He's denied your access to the lab. Shocker. You press the com button on the wall but it doesn't connect. He's shut that off too.

You lean your head on the cool cement wall and sigh. One more day. You'll give it one more day. If he doesn't show his face you'll get the override key card that resides in the hidden box in the bathroom. You found it ages ago, by pure accident. You've never used it and he has no idea that you even know about it. But you'll do what you have to do.

______________________

Morning of the next day you find yourself in bed, looking around the soft cream colored walls. An idea comes to mind. A dirty, dirty idea. You know Nathan has cameras in every room. He's too anal about protectng his work not to. Plus he has major trust issues.

You lean over the side of the bed and pull open the nightstand drawer. Inside is a small vibrator that you brought with you when you moved in. There's another box in there too. One that was there when you opened the drawer the first night. On the top it says "For your needs, because you're only human."

Of course you opened the box out of curiosity, Nathan had said everything in the room was for you so it wasn't snooping. In the box was a dildo, some lube and a little bullet vibrator. You had never used them, finding the gift too personal and odd. Complimentary soap? Normal. Complimentary extra blankets and pillows? Thoughtful. Complimentary sex toys? Insane. Until you got to know Nathan, you thought it was the weirdest thing ever. In fact, you forgot about the box after a while as you hadn't had the urge to get off until recently. Today however, you're going to make a show of it in hopes of getting his attention.

You dump the contents of the box on the bed and pick up the dildo, wrapping your fingers around it. It's life like, fleshy and soft but firm enough for it's intended use. It's bigger than you might usually prefer but nothing you can't handle with some extra time. And you've got nothing but time. You take a glance around the room, not seeing any obvious surveillance cameras. This may be for nothing.

You make quick work of your pajamas, toss aside the blankets and prop yourself against the headboard. You decide to keep your gaze fixed on the television, imagining it's where he is watching from. You close your eyes and let your hands start to wander, doing thier thing while your mind runs wild.

Time passes slowly as you work yourself over, adjusting to the dildo and working yourself into a heated frenzy. It would be easier if you had something to watch, some porn or something. You're not intent on making yourself come, but you will if it comes to that. You just want to put on a show to draw him out. That's what you're telling yourself anyway.

The power goes out, darkening the room and thrusting you into silence. The back up system announces its engagement and the emergency lights come up red. You sit up and lean your head back against the headboard. Great. You toss the toys aside and get up, pulling on your pajamas. You go to the door, punch in the code for manual override during power failure. Nathan is such a nerd. It's not a specific number but rather the theme to Star Wars.

The door clicks open and you go out into the hall. No one in sight, not that you really expected anyone. "Nathan!" You call out, heading for the lab door. Everything is eerie red and you don't like it. "Power is out!"

No response.

"Nathan James Bateman!" You sing song as you slide your card on the lab door. It buzzes. "I know you hear me you fuck!"

"Power restored. All systems active."

The hall turns white, back to the bright daylight simulated lighting. You lift your key card up in hopes that the system turned off his lock out coding for your card. Sure enough it turns blue and the door clicks open. Relief washes over you as you step into the darkened office where his computer is set up, notes on the wall, security feeds pulled up on two of the monitors. The door to the actual lab is open and you walk through into the bright area.

"Nate?" You call out, the nickname slipping out as your voice wavers a bit when you don't see him anywhere.

"Kitten?"

You spin around and see the man you seek emerge from a doorway. It's the server closet where the breaker box is. "Hey."

"How'd you get in here?"

"The power failure reset the lock codes."

"You can leave."

"Nathan, you haven't been out in almost two weeks. I'm starting to get worried. What are you eating? Are you sleeping?"

"I'm fine."

You give him a once over. Wrinkled clothes. Disheveled beard. Hair grown out longer than you remember, still buzzed but not so close. His skin is dull and lifeless. "You look like shit."

"What's new?"

"Oh come on. You're more vain than that. What are you doing in here anyway? Why the power failure?"

"Fuck off."

"What an original come back. I've been trying to get your attention for days. The fact that it took a power outage for me to get to you is sad." You walk up to him and touch his chest, there is a little bit of dried blood smeared on his shirt. A cut on his hand most likely. "Nathan, talk to me."

Nathan pushes away from you and goes to his design table where there are blueprints laid out for an AI.

"Nathan."

"Leave." There is no venom in his tone. If anything he sounds pleading.

You decide to make a bold move and wrap your arms around his shoulders. He stiffens, hands stilling on the table, pen falling from his fingers. "Please talk to me."

"Just go. I don't want to talk to you."

"Fine. Dinner is at six." You pause at the doorway to the office area. "Did you hear me?"

"Six."

"Good."

_____________________

Things fall back into a normal rhythm in the days following. You do your work and he does his. You eat together, go for walks, talk about his progress on the new AI. Everything seems to be back to it’s usual flow, how it always happened after big arguments or falling outs.

So while you’re sitting in the lab watching him work one day and he asks you about the dildo in the bedside table you're thrown for a loop. It’s far from his usual choice of topics and you had actually forgotten all about it. His mentioning of it brings back the memory of when you were laid out on your bed, literally masturbating to try and get his attention. Christ what a desperate move that was. Stupid.

"So have you opened it?"

"The dildo box? Yeah I've opened it." You try to remain casual as you discuss something so personal. You definitely aren’t thinking about how good it felt.

He smirks. "Used it?"

"No." A bold lie. He has no idea. He never saw you in your bedroom. At least you don't think he did. Why would he ask about it if he had? Why is he asking about it at all?

“You’re a shitty liar.” He turns around in his chair and faces you, pushing his glasses up off the end of his nose. “Did you like it?”

“I haven’t used it.”

“Do you want me to bring up the video? I will.” He stands and heads to the office. “Come on, come here.”

You slide off the table and walk behind him in your shame, cheeks hot. You knew you shouldn’t have lied. Of course he was testing you. It's Nathan for fucks sake. He gestures to his rolling chair and you take a seat while he leans over the desk and clicks around on files on the desktop. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yeah. It is.” He opens a play back window and you can see the view of your room. No surprise. You try to figure out where the hell this camera is based on the angle. It seems to be the top left corner above your closet but as far as you remember there is nothing there. “Oh, there you are.”

“Nathan.”

“No, no watch.” He points to the screen as you toss and turn on the bed. He speeds up the playback as you get into the drawer and get the box out. You deliberately clear the bed, undress, get back on the bed.

You roll your eyes, looking away from the screen and he places a hand on your head and turns it back to watch. “So? I’m masturbating. Whatever. You do it too. If I wasn’t supposed to use the damn thing why did you leave it for me?”

“Oh I don’t care that you used it.” He clicks a little audio icon beside the playback screen. “I just want to know why you lied about it.”

“I am embarrassed? I don't make a habit of talking about my-”

“Nathan.” Your voice plays back on the audio coming from the video playback and you wish you could sink into the floor and disappear. “Nathan, harder please!” Of course he has audio on the fucking cameras. Of fucking course he does because why not right? It’s his house, his research facility.

Nathan looks at you over his glasses. “You’re embarrassed about talking about masturbating or you’re embarrassed that you think of me when you do it and I found out? Actually don’t answer that because this looks deliberate.” He takes a seat on the desk, blocking the view of the monitors. “Now, are you going to lie to me again, or tell me what this is about?”

“I wanted to get your attention.”

“Well you got it honey.” He clicks a button on the keyboard and it stops the playback.

“I wanted your attention to get you out of the fucking lab. It had been almost two weeks since I had seen you and the only way I can reach you from outside is through the cameras. So I thought, maybe there is one in my room because you’re a fucking control freak. Low and behold I was right, but it didn’t work how I planned it to.” You fold your arms over your chest and he chuckles. “What’s so funny?”

“You.”

“Me? How is any of this funny?”

“What kind of person thinks that masturbating on camera is going to get someone’s attention? No, seriously, why wouldn’t you try flash signalling the cameras in the halls? Set up a cue card with a message? Who says I’m gonna fuck myself for my bosses attention?”

You take in a deep breath and clench your jaw. He’s right, kind of. You hate it but he is. In any other situation you never would have done this. So why did you? Why did your brain go straight to exhibitionism? Because it’s Nathan and you’ve got it bad for him and you wanted him to see you. He’s got your brain just as fucked up as he has his own.

“It was wrong, I’m sorry. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Nope.” He kicks his legs hanging over the desk. “I wanna know if you liked that dildo.”

“It was fine I guess.”

“Not too much?”

“Nathan, why do you fucking care?”

He hops off the desk and shakes his head as he heads into the lab. “I’m curious is all!”

“You’re a freak!”

“And yet you still like me!”

“I’m starting to wonder why.” You push up out of the chair, close the playback on the computer and leave the office. You’re covering that stupid camera and throwing that dildo in the trash chute. You should have known he’d get some weird complex out of watching you say his fucking name while plowing yourself with a toy. In a weird way it turns you on, but it also pisses you off because he won’t actually admit that he liked it. He won’t ever admit anything.

_____________________

“Can I ask you something?” You say to Nathan as he sits beside you on the couch. You’re in the lounge together, dinner long over, watching a movie as you wind down for the evening. He’s got his arm around the back of the cushions and your legs are pulled up under you, feet pressed against his thigh. You’re close, but not too close.

“I don’t know. Can you?”

“Don’t be a dick for ten minutes please.”

Nathan holds his hand up in defense. “Ten minutes. Shoot.”

“Promise you won’t be a dick? For real?”

“Yes. Ask me the damn question.”

You take a deep breath, knowing what you’re about to ask is going to be rough on him. “When we were on our hikes a few weeks ago, you said it wasn’t that you don’t want me, it’s that you can’t have me. What does that mean?”

Nathan stares ahead at the movie on the tv over the fireplace. A moment passes, a moment that is too long and makes the room fill with awkward tension. You expected this.

“Gonna stay quiet for the ten minutes you aren’t going to be a dick?”

“Shut up.” He says softly, no venom in the words.

You stare at him expectantly, awaiting a better answer than just shut up. “Seriously, would you just-”

Nathan’s arm comes up from the back on the couch and his hand catches the back of your head, dragging you closer to him as he presses a kiss to your lips. Your blood boils in the best way and you chase his lips as he pulls away. “That’s all it takes to shut you up?”

“Answer my question. Ten minutes aren’t up.”

“I can’t have you because you’re going to leave. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day you’re going to leave.”

“I’m not leaving Nathan.”

He scoffs. “So if I stopped paying you to be my assistant, you would stay?”

“Yes.”

"You're fucked up." He shakes his head. "You're fucked up and it's my fault."

You stare at him at a loss for words. Did he just admit fault for something? Are you hearing this correctly? Is Nathan Bateman, tech genius and egotistical maniac admitting he has done something? Holy shit.

"I did this to you. I made you stay here and endure my mood swings and drinking and all my shit. I stockholm syndrome'd you and I didn't even realize it." He leans his head back and closes his eyes. "You don't deserve this."

"Nathan, you didn't make me stay here. I chose to stay."

"Where the fuck were you going to go? Run off into the woods for days and days until you hope to find someone? What option did you have? I trapped you here. I've kept you caged in this house like an animal."

You lay your hand over his and he grabs it, threading your fingers together. "You don't think someone could actually love you, do you?"

"What?"

"You don't think someone could fall in love with you because you're insecure. You push people away, you push me away because you think it's easier than letting yourself feel something for someone."

Nathan looks pissed but he holds his tongue.

"I'm not trapped here, you aren't twisting my arm and making me stay here against my will. I know what I signed up for, I know what I signed in those contracts. I could have told you to fuck off and shove your head up your ass months ago and taken a helicopter back into the city. I could have just run away on any one of my dozen grocery runs in the last several months. But did I?"

"No."

"Why is that?"

"I don't fucking know."

You lay the hand not held in his, on to his cheek and turn his face to make him look at you. "Because I love you, Nathan."

"No you don't."

"Yes, I do. You're a real son of a bitch sometimes and I want to break your nose and choke you to death every once in a while but I care. I care about you, about your work, about your life. I want to be here, I want to be a part of your life Nathan. You don't have to be afraid. I'm not going anywhere."

Nathan gets up and you hold your joined hands tightly.

"Don't run away damn it!"

"I'm not! Would you let go!"

"I swear to fucking God if you lock yourself in that lab again I am going to get a battering ram."

He takes his glasses off and presses them into your palm. "Take these as collateral. I'll be right back."

You sit back on the couch and glare at his form as it disappears into the house. You clean his glasses carefully with the edge of your shirt and set them on the coffee table. He has to come back for them, he's as blind as a bat without them.

Nathan returns shortly with a small box. "I made these." He hands you the box and you open it as he puts his glasses back on. Inside are two black bands, rings.

"I don't understand."

"I made them because I know I can be difficult." He plucks one from the box. "They track the wearers vitals, change colors based on varying indicators, and they will work no matter how far apart they are."

"You made high tech mood rings."

He shoots you a glare. "I made them for you." He places the ring in his hand into your palm. "So you will know that I'm alright when I'm working long hours. I know I'm not the easiest to read and I don't have the easiest time expressing myself sometimes."

You put the ring on and it lights up a soft pink color. The moment Nathan slips his over his finger you can feel a soft steady pulse coming from the ring. "Is that your heartbeat?"

"Yeah." He holds his hand out and you can see his band is the same color pink. "I'll give you a breakdown on all the colors and functions later, but pink means the body is at ease."

"Do you love me? Just tell me, straight up no games."

"Yeah." He cups your cheek and brings you in for a kiss. "I love the shit out of you."

You break away from his kiss and press your foreheads together. "Can I ask just one more question?"

"Fire away."

"Is the dildo a mold of your dick?"

A smile spreads across his face and you already know the answer before he says it. "It is."

"You're a freak."

"And you absolutely love it."

You smile as he presses his lips to yours and pulls you over into his lap. "I guess I do."

The end

Please reblog if you read or like. Thank yo so much for reading! -A

Header by the lovey talented delicate-venus

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

#nathan bateman #nathan bateman fic #ex machina fic #ex machina #ex machina movie #ex machina fanfic #ex machina fanfiction #Oscar Issac #oscar issac fic

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haneybun123 · 4 years ago

Text

EXO as players (OT9)

masterlist

a/n: thought I'd take a relaxful dip back into writing and start off with something I’ve already started.

I don’t want to write a full piece of text for this because I'd rather write full fics instead (I've got them planned dw).

Kim Minseok / Xiumin

- definitely the hit and dip type. he has GAME and he’s absolutely not afraid to use it. he’s handsome, he’s ripped, he’s got those beautiful cat eyes that can become devious bedroom eyes with a click of his fingers, he’s got it all. he’s perfectly crafted to absolutely ruin your life.

- he’s the type to hit you up on the dance floor, fuck you in the bathrooms, and dip without even asking if you’re alright- not even bothering to make sure you’re clean. just wipes his dick and goes. he won’t ask your number, he won’t pay attention to what you want, he doesn’t even ask your name. he simply doesn’t care. he’s after his own high and nothing else.

- you can try and find him somewhere but.. he won’t recognise you. you’re a notch in his bedpost, another name on an endless list, a mere way to get off. don’t even bother trying to change him. he’ll think it’s cute and understands that you fell for him so hard but he’ll continue to remain absolutely unbothered.

- has never caught feelings and won't ever do it. it’s like he’s physically incapable of doing so. he doesn’t even have people he fucks more than once (not cognitively, anyway). don't try and charm him- you’ll just put him off. take his mad dick game (because it is mad) when you can and let him go.

Suho / Kim Junmyeon

- he has that classic, gentleman, suave personality. you’ll think he’s your Prince Charming: sweeping you off your feet with his mad game, flirting with you in an old-fashioned style, taking you home for a “night cap”... but it’s nothing more than a ruse. Junmyeon is nothing more than a wolf in sheep's clothing. trying his very hardest to earn your trust....

- so he can fuck you stupid and kicks you out. he’s addicted to the rush of twisting people around his fingers. he loves watching them trip over their feet for him- desperately trying to please him to keep the Prince Charming they thought they had earned themselves. it’s all a game to him- you’re a game to him. don’t hurt yourself over it.

- he’ll accept your number or another meet up for the fun of it- watching you get hope in your eyes as you dream of something more with such a beautiful man.. but he doesn’t care and he won’t show up or respond to your attempts to contact him. it’s simply just another game- feelings are merely a game to him.

- he will remember you but good luck trying to keep up with him. he’ll think about what he did and laugh about it but he isn’t interested in confrontation or seeing you again. he’ll just sneak away from you if you two make contact again. you’re nothing but a game, don’t trick yourself into thinking differently.

Lay / Zhang Yixing

- oh my god.. this man. THIS MAN!!!!! he did it once for a dare, wanting to prove himself to his friends as something other than the soft boy of their friend group.. then he got addicted to the rush of picking someone up off the street. he loves staring at groups of women with this slick little smile, work his way next to them, and worm his way into their hearts.

- so he becomes a bit of a slime ball type after that. he’ll hang out with his friends on the street, pointing out hot girls and whispering amongst themselves about how sexy each girl passing is. they’ll blush at the boys flirtatious stares and lip bites. he’s got the suave approach, the words that would make you cringe if they came from any other man.

- he’ll accept your number for the proof. he wants to be able to show off to his friends that he did get that far into your head. the difference between Lay and other members, though, is that he doesn’t mind sleeping with someone more than once. unless your sex game is on point you’ll be hard pressed to find him remembering your name or anything else about you.

- but yea, if he likes you enough and you don’t seem boring he’ll inevitably message you again asking if you’re alone or free- it’ll probably be a month afterwards while he's drunk, though. or, he’ll ghost the shit out of you because your taste in sex is just not interesting enough.

Baekhyun / Byun Baekhyun

- Baekhyun just has an irresistibly attractive aura. he’s pretty, he’s got an infectious laugh, and lips that always taste like candy no matter what. it allows him to have his way with whoever he wants, lets him leave his mark on them to remind himself of what he’s done the next day. he likes to take photos of them, keep them in a private folder to keep track of just how many he’s done.

- in a way, he’s a bounty hunter. he wants one of everyone- one of every prize: every race, body type, eye colour, hair colour, thick, thin, everything. he wants to see who is the best fit for him. his Eve to his Adam. his Juliet to his Romeo. but he’s never found anyone worth more than 2 hours of his time. don’t trick yourself into thinking you’ll change it- he’s aware he’ll never find what he’s searching for.

- he doesn’t feel bad being harsh because if you aren’t worth his time you aren’t worth his kindness in his self-absorbed eyes. if you offer him your phone number or try and meet up with him again he’ll just be straight with you: “you aren’t worth my attention. stop talking to me.” he turns around with a sassy hair flick, too; like he’s some sort of mean girl.

- don’t try and track him down because tbh he’ll just slap you in the face and walk away without a single word being spoken. that’s all there is to it. half an hour before you finished having sex he’s already cast his final verdict on your worthiness: no amount of pleading, tears, or missed calls is going to change that for him.

Chen / Kim Jongdae

it annoys me that this gif is so big it’s ruining the format but Chen looks too pretty in it.

- This man... oh my god. don’t be fooled by his cute smile, his beagle personality, or his big, doe eyes. he’s a snake. he lets you get comfortable, even relaxed in his presence, then he bares his fangs and strikes. he’ll play you like a fiddle. before you know it you’re abandoned in the dirt like a used condom. that’s what you are to him. you’re used.

- he doesn’t get off on it or anything, he just feels like he has to convince you there will be something more so he can sleep with you. he’s just so goddamn suave with his behaviour. he’ll take you on these sweet lunch dates and pay for everything, give you his coat when it’s raining, buy you flowers, and toss them onto the counter in preference of picking you up and carrying you to the bed.

- then he starts texting less, putting off seeing you again. you’ll meet up again and it won't be the same. then he’s gone. he’s done this to countless women,

Chanyeol / Park Chanyeol

- TOXIC. AVOID AT ALL COSTS. an EVIL bastard. he knows he’s hot. he knows he’s hung. he knows he’s got game. he knows exactly how he’s gonna use it. he’s a sly, cunning little fox, fucking everything that moves and convincing you you’re the only one he cares about. absolute toxicity.

- really just the type to think with his dick. he just wants to get his cock wet. you’re a literal cocksleeve for him. he doesn’t even aim for the hot ones- he aims for the innocent, shy types that aren’t gonna be sleeping around and who’s friends would feel too embarrassed to admit they had casual sex to brag. that way, they’ll never know their special man slept with them all.

- he want’s to corrupt. he knows shy girls have the tightest holes. he knows they’ll be too embarrassed to start something regular or ask him about being official. but, if you do work up the courage, he doesn’t care about brushing off your advances either- “I'm not good enough for you, baby..” type 100%. literally the most slimy shit.

- he’ll keep in contact with you mostly to destroy your innocence a little bit more. he’ll text you, whining about how needy he is and how sad he is that he can’t just drop at your doorstep and “spoil you” right at that moment. as soon as he finds someone more exciting he’ll ghost you and claim you’re “just a friend” to everyone else. anyway, TOXIC.

D.O / Do Kyungsoo

- similar to Junmyeon, Kyungsoo is a gentleman. he likes to convince them that he’s some cute guy that just wants to find the right girl. in realty, he just wants to toy with them like they’re puppets on strings and watch their little cardboard lives burn apart like they’re nothing. if you were to fit Kyungsoo into any box he’d want it to recognise what he’s most proud of- his ability to be a puppet master.

- the amount of women he has in his phone, text messages carefully crafted to show just enough interest to keep them invested but not enough affection for them to be convinced it is anything more than playful. so, when he turns up the passion, his target near enough collapses from the unexpectedness of it all. he thrives off of it. he thrives off of the dumb expression spread across your face as his kinks throw you through a loop (sir kink D.O supremacy).

- he thrives even more off of leaving you in the dust. now that the game is done, what’s the point of keeping you around? you’re finished. he has other targets to attend to. no women remains in his thoughts once he’s done- they become a lustful memory of the past. he’ll block your number and move on.

- if he sees you again, he will remain unbothered and ignore your existance. through his eyes, it is nothing more than a chance to toy with you even more. if you approach him he’ll simply say he doesn’t know who you are just to watch your heart crumble at his feet.

KAI / Kim Jongin

- he’s not dissimilar to Xiumin in the sense that he’s also the fuck them and dump them type. he’s honestly just the type that’s in it to get some. he isn’t interested in playing with his food- he’s got one type he’s out to get his dick wet with and that’s it- curvaceous women. long story short, Jongin is a tiddy man.

- if you have the body he will put on the charm with first eye contact. he’ll smirk over at you with a sweet eye smile that makes him seem far more innocent than he truly is. that combined with his honey skin and angelic tone has people falling into his arms easily. he just has an indisputable attractiveness around him that lets him bed people like it’s nothing. like it’s his job.

- he is the type to keep in contact with women that really please him. if they’re perfectly his type and prove themselves to have steaming hot bed game he will call them back again. but, he’s the “promise you won’t catch feelings :( ” type. if you catch feelings tho he’s gonna get so fucking mad. he’ll ghost you straight up.

- if you do get ghosted and try and hit him up again he’ll probably just fuck you another time. just for the fun of it- just because he knows he gave you a chance for a reason. how is he to know you haven’t improved since last time? and if you have, well, lucky you! now you’re on Jongins personal sex roster. his dick is worth the disregarding of going to bed with a man who ghosted you for months on end, anyway.

Sehun / Oh Sehun

- he doesn’t mean to be a player or a fuckboi, honestly! he promises!! he just can’t seem to be satisfied with any partner. his standards are simply far too high for his own good. he’ll find someone he likes and slowly pick apart their personality until, in the end, all he thinks is left is the sex game.. and then when you have sex everything is gone.

- the difference between Sehun and the rest of the EXO members is that he can spend up to 2 months on a women before he dips. but, don't be fooled, those 2 months aren’t pleasant at all. it’s just him refusing to commit, taking you on date after date and continuously looking disappointed at your behaviour. then, on a drunken date, he’ll crack and have sex with you. that’s when things go really downhill.

- at first, he’ll text you saying he just can’t do this anymore. you won't be blocked, you won’t be left on delivered, you’ll be left on read. he’ll open the messages you send him anywhere between 5 minutes to 2 hours afterwards and simply just not reply.

- don’t bother trying to get in contact with a man like this afterwards. he’s just like Baekhyun- he wants a perfect that just doesn't exist. he’ll have no sympathy for you, if you do. he’ll just scoff and walk away. don’t waste your time.

#exo #exo smut #kpop #kpop boy groups #kpop reactions #exo reactions #tw toxic #tw fuckbois

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smaidjor · 3 years ago

Text

i know they're losing (chapter 2)

Hello everyone! Since the last chapter received such a positive response (well, if screaming could be called a positive response), I've decided to not make you all wait long for the second chapter of this fic. Also, I have no self-control. Anyways!

Once again obligatory disclaimer this is characters not people, don't ship real people, etc.

Chapter Title: over snow and winter's morn

Chapter Wordcount: 3203

Content warnings: more discussion of death, also quite a bit of Scott being a bit of a dick. He's going through it, besties.

AO3 Link

Chapter 1

Actual fic under the cut:

Jimmy doesn’t get a chance to return the ring any time in the next few weeks. Scott must have told Katherine that he visited, since she doesn’t come to bother him about it, and every time Jimmy tries to go to Rivendell, something gets in the way. Demon attacks, urgent business in his empire, once even Scott’s own guards turning him away. Apparently Scott is a ‘busy elf’. Jimmy doesn’t doubt he is, but he also doesn’t doubt that Scott’s actively trying to avoid him. Scott is a petty man, ultimately, and Jimmy knows this, used to love it like he loved all his husband’s flaws, all his imperfections that were perfect to Jimmy. Now, though, it just hurts that Scott’s turning that pettiness on him.

Finally, something changes. Jimmy gets an invitation (in person!) from one of his closest allies; Lizzie wants to hold a ball, and she wants as many people as possible to come. It will be fancy and formal, with dancing and politics and all the things Jimmy’s just a bit awkward with, but he is an extrovert at heart, and well...Scott will be there, as Lizzie warns him.

“I know you and him don’t really get on, so I get if you don’t want to come. I really hope you will, though, it’s going to be a fun night!”

Jimmy nods. “I’ll be there! I need to talk to Scott anyways, actually, got to return this ring to him. It’s important, I think.”

“Gotcha! See you there,” Lizzie says with a broad smile. Jimmy appreciates that she doesn’t ask any questions about the ring, especially given that it’s the one thing holding together his emotional state right now.

And that’s how he finds himself frantically searching for something fancy enough to wear to a formal ball, wishing he’d had the forethought to plan for this a bit better. Scott would have planned, he thinks, would have had an outfit laid out for each of them and the time it would take them to get there exactly calculated.

He shakes that thought off, settling for a green tunic with copper accents. It’s not the most elegant thing in the world, especially when you take into account the slime that’s dripped onto it, but it’ll have to do. It’s representative of his empire for sure, and the copper is a nod to his ally. It’s good enough, and that’s what matters, Jimmy thinks.

Lizzie greets him when he enters the ballroom, smiling widely with her new fiance by her side. “Jimmy! Glad you could make it!”

“Yeah, yeah, I did make it! Here I am!” The smile he gives her is genuine; he likes Lizzie. She's fierce and kind all at once, the best kind of ally.

Joel offers him a brief wave, which Jimmy happily returns before Lizzie drags him off to chat.

“So, heard from a little birdy you’ve actually been visiting Scott,” Lizzie says, a grin like the cat that got the bird on her face.

“As a favor to Katherine,” Jimmy quickly clarifies.

She nods. “She did say that, yes. She also said she heard about the visit from Scott himself.”

Jimmy hates himself a little for being pathetic enough to ask “What did- did she say what he said? Was he talking about me?”

“She didn’t say exactly, but he seemed ‘shaken up’, apparently...and a little wistful.”

“Oh, no. Lizzie, no.”

“Say, why did you have his ring?” She’s still grinning, a little more evil this time.

“It’s a long story!” Jimmy blurts, and flees. How’s he supposed to say ‘oh we were married on a server where we thought we were going to permanently die and then we respawned here and now Scott’s refusing to talk to me because the grief over my last death is slowly killing him’ tactfully? There’s just no way to do it! Nice one, Jimmy, now she thinks you’re in love with him or something, he thinks ruefully. Not that he isn’t- wasn’t. Wasn’t. Scott’s made it very clear that he and Jimmy are through.

Still, even with his depressing thoughts, the ball is pretty okay. No one’s gotten assassinated, there haven’t been any demonic appearances, Lizzie’s already showing off her engagement ring, and he’s pretty sure Joey’s going off about how hot demons are. It’s a decent party, by empires standards.

Scott makes an appearance some twenty minutes or so later, stepping into the ballroom with typical elven grace. He’s not a very elven elf, as he once told Jimmy, short and sarcastic with a love for mortals, but he still looks twice as elegant as everyone else in the ballroom. The shakiness in his step from a few weeks ago seems entirely gone, and for a minute, Jimmy’s heart leaps in hope. Maybe he’s getting better?

Well, only one way to find out. Jimmy swallows the complicated knot of emotion in his chest as he crosses the ballroom, coming to an ungraceful stop in front of Scott. Up close, the elf looks worryingly pale, and there are dark circles under his eyes. He looks like a strong breeze might sweep him away.

“Lord Codfather,” Scott greets.

“Elvenking,” Jimmy returns, dipping his head a little. Look, Scott, he can be formal too, alright? “Care for a dance?”

Scott stares for a long moment before giving a single nod. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind.” He takes Jimmy’s outstretched hand in his own gloved one, letting Jimmy put a hand on his waist as they start into a simple waltz.

Now, Jimmy is a terrible dancer, and he’s not too proud to admit it. He steps on Scott’s feet, gets off-rhythm once or twice, and nearly crashes them straight into Lizzie and Joel. But despite their current status as enemies(ex-spouses?), Scott says nothing about it. He’s silent, in fact, seemingly caught up in the music. There’s something wistful about his expression, something soft and gentle hidden under his icy facade. If Jimmy tries hard enough, he can almost pretend that the two of them are back in 3rd life, dancing under the stars, and Scott is looking at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

The illusion is shattered, however, by how heavily Scott is leaning on him by the end of the dance. He’s unsteady on his feet, grip like iron on Jimmy’s hand and shoulder. Though Jimmy can’t feel his hands though the gloves, when he brushes against Scott’s arm, it’s still a little too cold to be entirely right.

The music slows and then pauses before the next song, and they head for the edge of the dance floor.

“Thank you for the dance, Codfather,” Scott says. He steps away, face falling back into the emotionless facade so quickly it’s hard to be sure the tender expression of a moment before wasn’t a dream.

That’s the final straw for Jimmy’s fragile self-control. “Can we please stop acting like we don’t know each other?”

“What else do you want from me?” Scott snaps back.

“I- something! Anything! Just acknowledge that I exist, won’t you?”

“Acknowledging you exist doesn’t mean I’m still in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” Jimmy says, a little softer, a little bitter. “I know, trust me. I just want you to stop- to stop hurting yourself to try and avoid pain!”

“That’s not what I’m do-”

“Then what are you doing? Enlighten me, o wise elf!” They’ve kept their voices low enough, but people nearby are still starting to stare at them. Jimmy can’t bring himself to care. “You told me it would destroy you to lose me, but you’re losing me now by pushing me away!”

Scott’s expression is pained for a moment before he covers it with a glare. “I’m trying to do what’s best for the both of us, Jimmy.”

“No you’re-”

“I am an elf, and I cannot love a mortal. Humans are quick flames, burning and changing quickly. You’ll fall in love again, and you’ll forget me. There will be a mortal who loves you- I’m sure there are many already.”

“But I don’t want a mortal,” Jimmy protests. “I want you.”

“You can’t have me.”

“But why? Why, Scott?” His voice breaks, embarrassingly enough. “You said you loved me, you promised me all the time we’d be able to- to carve out, to steal from the universe.”

“I can’t give you that!” Scott snaps. “You’ll live sixty more years, maybe, a fraction of my life, a blink of an eye to an elf, and I can’t even give you that long! Not when I have to be the elvenking before anything else. Nothing I can do will ever be enough for you.”

“Enough for me? For ME? All I want is for you not to die to your own dumb plan and acknowledge my existance once in a while!”

“And all I want is for you to realize I can’t love you again!”

“Why can’t you care about me?”

“Why can’t you move on?” Scott counters.

“You’re not moving on, you’re just trying to forget!” Jimmy shouts.

In the silence that follows, he realizes that most of the ballroom must have heard the end of their little lovers’ quarrel. In fact, Lizzie’s somehow appeared next to him, laying a hand on his arm.

“Is everything alright, boys?” Her tight smile says that they will most certainly get kicked out of the ball if they continue this, and Jimmy can’t blame her.

“My apologies, Ocean Queen,” Scott says, switching to a formal tone with ease that Jimmy envies. He dips his head in respect, and only Jimmy sees how his hands tremble. “Everything is alright, but I am afraid I will have to leave early.”

She smiles again, dangerous this time. “No need to worry, Lord Smajor. Do try to avoid picking fights with my allies, next time, though.”

“It won’t happen again,” he promises, and sweeps away.

“Coward!” Jimmy shouts after him, anger making him bold. “You’re a coward, Scott!”

“Stop it,” Lizzie scolds. “You’ve already made quite the scene, and I did essentially kick him out. I’m not sure how much further you really want to carry it.”

“He is though, Lizzie, he’s a coward! Doesn’t want to face me because that means facing- well, facing everything that’s happened!”

“What do you mean, everything that’s happened?” Lizzie turns to the gathered audience of people who have been watching the spat, shooing them off as best as possible. They slowly disperse, thank goodness. “You and he are enemies, right?”

Jimmy almost winces. “It’s a bit- it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“I can see that. Jimmy, that looked like a messy breakup!”

“It, um, well, it was. Sort of.”

“Oh, Jimmy.” Lizzie’s giving him a sympathetic look, which she follows up with a tight hug. “Next time, how about we don’t invite him?”

He nods against her shoulder, rage leaving him as quickly as it came. Instead, he just feels...tired. “Thanks, Lizzie.”

“Of course. We look after each other, yeah?’

“Yeah.”

Jimmy leaves the ball exhausted, still reeling from everything that happened. The few lingering bits of anger are what gets him home, a bitter taste in his mouth from the bitter words he spat. Coward! You’re a coward, Scott! He refuses to regret them.

Scott’s ring nearly ends up in the swamp again, but Jimmy’s cooled down enough by the time he gets back that he can’t bear to throw it away. Instead, it goes in a box which he tucks into his old storage chest, somewhere he’ll never have to see it again. Scott can go to hell if he wants the ring back after all that.

For a while, Jimmy’s plan to tuck the ring and never think about Scott again seems to be working. Lizzie visits a few times to check on him, but she never asks specifically about Scott, and Jimmy doesn’t say anything about him. He receives radio silence from Rivendell, and he tells himself that it’s good, that he doesn’t want to hear from Scott.

So yes, his plan is working, up until he gets a knock on his door and opens it to find Scott there.

The elf looks terrible, frankly, almost worse than he did at the ball. His hair, which is usually so nicely done, is a mess, cyan strands falling all across his face. His clothes are wrinkled and have swamp mud on them, his eyes have dark circles as violent as bruises, and he’s swaying a tiny bit. In short, he looks like he didn’t sleep for a week, chugged coffee, and fought god in a denny’s parking lot.

Jimmy thinks he’s kinda hot.

No, he doesn’t. Fake news, brain.

“Hi,” Scott says.

“Scott? What- why are you here?” Jimmy’s voice rises, in shock or outrage even he doesn’t know.

“I came to apologize.” Though he looks like he’s going to pass out at any second, Scott’s voice is steady. “I was scared- I am scared. I’m terrified to lose you again. But I shouldn’t have pushed you away and hurt you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have!” Jimmy snaps, but there’s little real rage behind it.

“I know. I- uh- fuck.” Scott’s hands are shaking as he pulls out a little box from some hidden pocket. “I brought a gift as an apology.”

Jimmy takes it, curious despite himself, and finds that what’s inside is a silver bracelet with little crystals embedded in it. Flowers are the predominant design; he recognizes roses, hyacinths, irises, anemone, and poppies. On the underside, there’s elven lettering, though Jimmy has no clue what it says. The whole thing is a little clumsy, not quite as professionally made as the ring Scott once gave him, and Jimmy looks up at Scott. “Did you make this yourself?”

“Mhm. I did my best, but it’s not as nice as I’d like.”

“It’s pretty,” Jimmy says.

Scott’s shoulders slump with relief. “It’s spelled, too. Protection, good fortune, that sort of thing.”

“Do the flowers mean something?”

“They do.”

Jimmy doesn’t press for details.

“I-” Scott starts again, a tremble in his voice that wasn’t there before. “I’m sorry, Jimmy, I really am. I won’t ask you to forgive me, but I needed to apologize before my time ran out.”

“Is it that- that dire?”

The barest nod. “This is what I chose to do with it. Making that, coming here. You deserved an apology.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence, Jimmy staring down at the bracelet.

Scott breaks it. “It wouldn’t be fair of me to ask you to love me. I can’t promise you eternity. I can’t promise you happiness. I can’t promise you that I won’t have to be the elvenking first and a husband second. But I am yours still, if you’ll have me.”

A part of Jimmy is very tempted to throw both Scott’s gift and his love back in his face. He can’t bring himself to stay mad, though, not when Scott’s looking at him like that, with so much raw vulnerability. So much devotion, like Jimmy’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen. It would be so, so easy to break that last strand of fragile hope in his expression; he’s offering up his heart on a silver platter, ready to shatter. Jimmy could- should- yell at him, reject his gift, tell him that he’s ruined any chance he has at Jimmy’s love.

Jimmy kisses him instead. It’s messy and it’s sudden and he very nearly drops Scott’s gift in the swamp in his haste to tangle his hands in Scott’s hair and press their lips together, but it’s real.

The little startled noise Scott makes gets cut off by Jimmy’s mouth on his. Scott’s lips are chapped and taste a little of glowberries, but Jimmy doesn’t care. He’s going to kiss his damn husband, something he thought he was never going to get to do again.

When they finally have to separate, Scott’s breathing hard, cheeks flushed. It’s a good look on him, Jimmy thinks, much more alive than his pale, rigid expression from before.

“So, I’ll take that as you want to stay married?” Scott’s voice is wry, collected, but his blush ruins the smooth effect.

“Of course I do! You absolute idiot!”

“Just checking.”

Jimmy kisses him again, just to shut him up. Scott goes with it easily, leaning into Jimmy’s embrace without complaint.

They pull apart quicker this time, and Jimmy holds the bracelet out. “Can you help me put this on?”

Scott nods. His hands are cold against the skin of Jimmy’s wrist when he fastens the clasp, but Jimmy grabs them and holds them in his own warm ones until they don’t feel quite so much like ice. It’s something. It’s a beginning.

“Come in and catch up with me?” Jimmy offers.

Scott nods again, and he doesn’t let go of Jimmy’s hand when Jimmy turns to go inside.

They talk about a lot of things. Empires, 3rd life, nightmares. Pufferfish, cake, flowers. They talk about the trials and tribulations of ruling; really, Jimmy complains that people keep attacking him and Scott nods in sympathy.

Eventually, though, the sun is starting to set.

“I need to get home,” Scott says. “You need sleep, not to stay up all night talking.” He goes to get up, and Jimmy immediately lunges, catching his sleeve.

“Don’t go! Please,” he adds, feeling his face flush at how desperate he sounds.

“Jimmy, darling, we both need to sleep.”

“We can sleep! I just….nevermind.”

“No, no.” Scott kneels back down, peering at him like Jimmy’s a puzzle that needs solving. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Jimmy.”

“I don’t want to be alone!” Jimmy blurts, and immediately flushes again. “It’s just, I’ve been alone for a long time, and there’s this demon thing that keeps showing up, and I’ve only just got you back, I’m not ready to let you go, and-”

“Hold on. What was that about a demon?”

“There’s this demon creature that I keep seeing, and it’s really messing with me,” he manages. “It sounds like you, sometimes, but all distorted, and I can’t handle it! You know me, I’m not brave or smart or anything, I’m just Jimmy!”

Scott’s frowning, worry wrinkling his brow. “Alright. How about you come to Rivendell for the night, then? I can protect us both easier there.”

Jimmy nods, feeling especially pitiful as Scott helps him to his feet. “Thank you.”

“Always. Do you still have the ring I gave you?”

“I do, I just….give me a moment to remember where I put it.”

“Good. It’s important.” Scott doesn’t elaborate, and Jimmy is too distracted looking for the ring to ask what he means.

Scott’s offer of protection feels flimsier when he has to lean on Jimmy as they travel back to Rivendell, but even then, it’s impossible to feel quite so afraid now that Jimmy isn’t alone anymore. And it’s even harder to fear anything that could happen when he’s safe in a warm bed, his head tucked against his husband’s chest. They’ll be okay, Jimmy thinks. They’ve been given another chance, and this time they’re going to get it right.

#scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #empires smp #my writing

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seawolvesanddragons · 4 years ago

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AWAE 25 Days of Christmas Day 22 “Go on, love birds”

Gilbert was a bundle of nervous energy as he sat in Ms. Josephine Barry’s parlor, a cup of tea growing cold in front of him.

It had been Anne’s idea that they meet at “Aunt Jo’s” house. Gilbert had finally managed the double miracle of having enough train fare for a trip to Charlottetown as well as having caught up on his work to be able to take the trip, and he and Anne had been ecstatic to see each other for the first time in months, if only for a few hours. Since Anne’s landlady only allowed suitors on Sunday afternoons, when Gilbert would be halfway back to U of T, Anne had suggested a bit of subterfuge in their meeting. Aunt Jo’s was an adequate secondary location, since Gilbert had been there before and Aunt Jo herself was apparently a kindred spirit.

Privately, Gilbert had thought it would give them the added bonus of avoiding the prying eyes of the other Avonlea girls. He liked Diana and the other girls well enough, but he hadn’t traveled hours on a train to listen to them giggle and tease him and Anne.

He had completely forgotten Cole McKenzie. Who was now seated across from him in the parlor, grinning at him like the cat who caught the canary and the cream.

“So, you’re here to visit Anne?” Cole asked, just a mite smug. “Last I saw you two, you could hardly stand to be in the same room.”

“We uh - settled our differences,” Gilbert said, stumbling over his words. He was only now realizing he had no idea who from Avonlea knew about his and Anne’s courtship. Diana knew, of course, and her father, and Bash. It hadn’t occurred to him that they would now have to tell people.

“And are such good chums now that you decided to spend a whole day and more on a train ride?” Cole raised a brow. “Must have been some settlement.”

Gilbert nearly choked on his own breath, coughing wildly at Cole’s accidental innuendo.

“I, well-” Gilbert stammered, his ears very red as he tried not to think about just how he and Anne had “settled” their communication fiasco.

“Oh Cole, stop teasing the poor boy,” Josephine Barry chided, sweeping into the parlor. “You know perfectly well Mr. Blythe here is courting our Anne; she told us about it weeks ago.”

“She did?” It was silly, the elation he felt at those simple words. Gilbert’s heart felt like it was dancing a jig.

“Technically, Diana told me,” Cole corrected primly. “Anne mostly sat there, face as red as her hair as she tried to remember how to speak,” Cole gave Gilbert a wicked grin. “I heard you caused quite the scandalous scene in front of the boarding house.”

“I - there was pretty good context for it at the time,” Gilbert said weakly.

“Oh, I am not faulting you for it at all,” Cole said happily. “I’ve been waiting for this development for ages. I told Anne years ago that you had a crush on her.”

“You did?”

Cole nodded. “Back when we all went to Charlottetown for the light bulbs. Right after you two were done your strange flirting as we left the train. She didn’t believe me, of course, even though it was very obvious. You looked at her as if she hung the moon,” Cole snorted.

“Oh,” Gilbert felt sheepish. He had thought he had done a good job keeping his feelings in check until last summer. Apparently, if Bash and Gilbert were to be believed, he had not.

“That was some time ago,” Ms. Josephine said, raising a brow at Gilbert.

“Aunt Jo, I don’t think you would have stood for it,” Cole said, clearly relishing in sharing this tale. “Those two were dancing around each other for ages; it was a wonder Gilbert got any work done in school, he was too busy staring at Anne.”

“I wasn’t that bad!” Gilbert tried to defend himself.

“I sat behind you and Charlie, Gilbert,” Cole reminded him. “You were that bad.”

Cole might have a point there.

“Anyways, I’ve had far too many letters from Diana describing your latest escapades once I was gone,” Cole shook his head. “I’ve yet to get the full story of just what happened after the exams out of Anne, though. I’m glad you got it sorted out, Diana seemed ready to knock both of your heads together in her letter right before the fair.”

“She would have done it, too,” Gilbert shook his head. His opinion of Diana had changed drastically in the last few months. “Your niece can be very terrifying when she wants to be,” he told Ms. Barry.

“I know,” Ms Barry said proudly. “She’s come a long way.” She then swept out of the parlor, calling for Rollings, her departure as grand as her entrance.

Gilbert could see exactly why Anne admired this woman so much.

“So,” Cole’s grin dissipated the moment the older woman left, and he sat forward in his chair, a serious expression on his face. Gilbert felt himself sit up straighter automatically. “You’re courting Anne.”

“I am,” Gilbert said, a little uncertain of where this was going. Cole had always been a very reserved, kind boy, and for the last thirty minutes there had been nothing but cheeky remarks and grins. Now though, Gilbert was remembering that Cole also had attacked Billy Andrews out of the blue once, in a state of fury incarnate. There had been rumors that Anne had been involved over that too, somehow.

“Anne is a very dear friend to me,” Cole said sternly. “She was there for me at a time that no one else would be, and she is the reason that I had the strength and courage to be here now. I care for her a great deal, Gilbert. I would like to see her have the same sort of happiness she has helped me find.”

“I know the two of you had a rough ride to get where you are,” Cole continued. “And though I am quite glad that you managed to meet in the middle at last, I don’t want to hear about any more miscommunication fiascos. Figure it out together, Blythe, because should I ever get any wind that you are treating Anne poorly, or giving her any cause to be unhappy, you’re going to need a doctor yourself. Is that clear?”

“Understood,” Gilbert said hastily. “Truly, Cole, all I want is for Anne to be happy. I am well aware of how fortunate I am to have her in my life, and how foolishly, stupidly close I came to losing her forever.”

“Excellent,” Cole clapped, all smiles and cheer again as if he hadn’t just been threatening Gilbert’s life. Ms Barry returned and Cole carried on reminiscing about their Avonlea school days as if nothing had happened.

All of Anne’s friends were terrifying, Gilbert decided.

At long last, the bell rang, signaling Anne’s arrival. Gilbert sprang to his feet without thinking, his heart racing.

“That look,” he heard Cole tell Jo gleefully. “Every single time she read aloud or beat him in a spelling competition or even just walked through the door, we all had to put up with that look.”

Cole and Bash were never, ever, allowed to meet, Gilbert thought. Then Anne walked in and all other thoughts vanished.

“Gilbert,” Anne said softly.

“Hello Anne,” Gilbert could hardly believe she was finally in front of him.

“Go on, love birds,” Cole called. “I know you’ve been pining Anne, at least give him a hug now.”

“Cole!” Anne cried furiously.

“Come on, Cole, I don’t think we’re needed here anymore,” Ms. Barry said firmly, leading him from the room and leaving Anne and Gilbert alone at last.

“Sorry I was late,” Anne apologized. “At least Cole was able to keep you company. What did you talk about?”

Gilbert considered telling her all about it.

Then he considered it again.

“Oh, just the weather.”

#awae #awae fic #anne with an e #gilbert blythe #cole mckenzie #josephine barry #aunt jo #anne shirley cuthbert #anne of green gables #shirbert #cole mckenzie roasts gilbert for 1000 words #25 days of christmas challenge

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catchmewiddershins · 4 years ago

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Haikyuu Hugs pt 3:

NEKOMA:

Kuroo Tetsuro:

So this boy is tall, as most of them are, and therefore he is the giver of many standing up hugs

He’ll stand there and wrap you up in his arms

He’ll drum little tunes on your back (or the back of your head) with his fingers while he hugs you

He’s quite lean but his arms are pretty well defined to his hugs are stronger and tighter than you’d think

He likes to tease you a little while you hug, small jabs maybe about your hair or height

But he loves you and you’d know that, he’d never aim for anything your particularly insecure about unless it was to offer a compliment afterwards

He loves it when you run your fingers through his hair

He’s actually found that, at the end of the day, having you play with his hair for an hour can actually make it lie flat!

MOVIE WATCHING CUDDLES - I JUST KNOW IT

His limbs are pretty long and lanky so he’ll loosely let them lie around your waist or shoulders as you sit in front of him on a bed to watch television

His arms are long enough to snatch snacks out of your hands (much to your dismay)

Cheeky grins - you know it!

Gives you little squeezes at your waist or lower back (maybe even your butt if he’s feeling mischievous)

His shoulders are pretty broad too, he likes it if you lean on them

I’m getting a ‘temperature for all seasons’ vibe from him, he runs pretty warm but won’t be unbearable in the summer

Sometimes, he’ll be very calm and quiet, content hugs abound at these moments, just trying to hug you enough for it to sink into your bones how much he loves you

This normally happens when it rains, my friends, I give you... rainy day blanket cuddles!

Kai Nobuyuki:

Not supremely tall (by Haikyuu standards... he’s 5′9.5″, that’s pretty tall to me) But, if you’re short enough, head on chest; taller? Head on shoulder! Taller than him? This boy will rest his head on YOUR chest or shoulders!

He’s a very calm and quiet boy, but his hugs are very secure and safe

Like hugging a teddy bear, neither of you need to speak to convey your love for one another

He strokes your hair or the side of your face

Warm hugs

His hugs aren’t soft per se... they’re just really comfy? And cozy? Like a warm fireplace and hot chocolate

Which is also a scenario that the two of you would cuddle

Honestly, I feel like ‘hug’ and ‘cuddle’ convey different vibes... and this guy is 110% a cuddler

Will happily give you tight, strong hugs if you need them, the perfect arms to break down in and the perfect shoulder to cry on

He’s just a great person to hug, if you are feeling more chatty, he’ll let you ramble about your day and just listen while smiling down at you with just... adoration

Ngl I absolutely love him now lol

But yes, fabulous, warm, safe hugs, 10/10 would embrace again

Yaku Morisuke:

This is another boy who I feel has very warm hugs

Tight hugs too, very tight, he basically clasps you to him like a warm barnacle with arms, you’re not getting out of it easily

In essence, he’s a lot stronger than he looks

He’s adorably honest with you, so he’ll hug you and just say, calmly, ‘love ya’ or something like that

Sometimes he’ll lay his head on your thighs and complain about Lev while you lightly massage his temples or ruffle his hair (he thinks it’s unfair how Lev is still growing)

He’s just an aggressive hugger, not in a frantic grabbing sort of way but he’ll just - ‘heya!’ *snatch* *long hug*

Likes to be touching you at all times, just an arm around your shoulders or waist again, you two are attached at the hip

The kind of guy to give you this massive grin while you hug

However, alongside his bluntness and slightly more aggressive traits, he is very caring and will ask you about your day while hugging you, maybe while stroking your hair or face

He just loves you to pieces basically, I think he’s very affectionate or, at least, physical, like he’s the sort of person to playfully whack people in retaliation (yk the type right?) and I feel like he’s just into physical affection and expressing his feelings physically

Also he’s a face kisser, he just peppers your face with kisses and both of you are giggling and laughing your heads off

If he’s tired, he’ll use you as a head rest... be careful you’re not sitting down because then he’ll fall asleep, he just likes breathing you in while embracing you, he finds it calming

Lets you borrow his clothes and might borrow yours

Film watching snuggles and pyjama snuggles abound

However, I think he’s almost always barefoot and therefore, if he’s feeling a little cheeky, will poke your sides with his cold feet knowing that you’ll squirm lol

Yamamoto Taketora:

He’s an enthusiastic hugger, I can’t ignore that

Will hug you while crying and raving about how attractive he finds you

He sways a lot while you hug him and pats you on the head or back

Will be talking to you and, if he sees that you need a hug, will just grab you by the shoulders and pull you into a hug

Running tackle hugs

Basically, he’ll compliment you a ton while hugging you

You two tend to have chaotic hugs, like watching a movie and clinging to each other so tight until it devolves into a pillow or food fight

If you’re watching a movie with him and he figures something out, he’ll grab you and shake you frantically while screaming about it before giving you a massive hug

Lets you ruffle his hair

He really likes to give you piggybacks so you have to hold on really tight

Kisses your head a lot when he can

He tickles you while you’re hugging

Big squeezy hugs

I’m thinking warm hugs but he tends to move the both of you around a lot

He loves to tell you all about the cool things he’s done on the team and what his teammates have done

He will just randomly grab you and pull you into hugs, like you do well in a test and he’s like ‘Great! Hug me! YAY!’

Kozume Kenma:

So... basically the opposite of Yamamoto

I feel like he’s a nuzzler ngl, like he’ll nuzzle your hair while you cuddle

Also, Kenma is definitely a cuddler not a hugger

He’s soft

Not really big on enthusiastic squeezing - definitely an arm draper

However, I do believe that Kenma can be quite clingy once he’s used to you

This boy will be curled up next to you, or will have his head in your lap as you play with his hair and he plays with his games

He also definitely is the type who will just hug you from behind out of nowhere, when he needs it, squeeze you to him and press his face into the the space between your shoulders

Hugging Kenma is pretty comforting

He is one for bed cuddles, the two of you will sit on his bed with pillows and blankets, playing games with the lights dim and eating snacks

Sometimes, if he’s tired, he’ll hug you while wrapped in a fluffy blanket

Kenma, I feel, is also the type to not let go once you start hugging him. You know the dilemma of ‘I have a place to be but there’s a cat on my lap?’ Kenma right there

If you try to leave a snuggle, he’ll grab your clothes or arm and whine

Kenma’s hugs tend to be pretty weak though, most of the time, he’s not using all of his muscle strength and his hugs are just the feeling of his arms around you

Nose boops and kisses

Loves to chat with you while you cuddle, just about his new game or your studies

Yet, he also enjoys quiet hugs when you both are just comfortable in the silence and the warmth of each other’s presence

Kenma hugs in one word? Cozy

Please play with his hair though, he loves it

Fukunaga Shouhei:

I love this boy, I would die for him, he is my child *Mandalorian theme plays*

*cough* anYWAY

Fukunaga hugs are very cute

He likes to tell you jokes and make puns while you hug, and the two of you like to trade outrageous jokes throughout the hug

If you’re sitting down, you both like to scroll through your phones while cuddling together, showing each other memes that get gradually more surreal

I think Fukunaga is a very affectionate person, he and you like to cuddle or be touching frequently

I think he’s big on holding hands

I also headcanon him as a fiddler (not the instrument... although-) he likes to tap tunes on your back, arms or legs, draw patterns, fiddle with your hair or fingers, just be touching you at all times

I think he also likes to ask for permission for hugs, even if it’s a given - it’s become a little thing between you

However, he has freezing hands - the rest of him is pretty warm - but not his hands

Often, if you hug him out of nowhere, he’ll make a little ~oh?~ noise and it’s really cute - he’ll just look at you in surprise

He loves you a lot and looks at you with his cute lil face all lit up in adoration

He squishes your cheeks a lot, either with both of his hands or he’ll squish his cheek to yours, mid hug

He hugs you round your middle

He hugs you like one would hug a plushie

Also, he love love LOVES it if you give him a massive hug and a big kiss on the cheek

He also kinda likes being picked up, I think he’s pretty light and, if you’re strong, he likes to be lifted slightly off of the ground from the force of your hug

Does the thing where he runs towards you with his arms open

He just squeezes you ok, like a massive squeeze because he loves you

Gets this adorable, happy little blush on his face whenever you hug him

Inuoka Sou:

This kid's like a puppy, all bounce and smiles and that definitely bleeds into his hugs

He’ll bound towards you and sweep you hug into a hug, probably lifting you off of the floor with the momentum of it

He has this tendency to swing your arm while you hold hands or rock you while you hug

Spends the entire hug complimenting you

The two of you are definitely the type to have fluffy pyjama cuddles, you’ll sit on the sofa and watch disney movies while cuddling in your fluffy, animal onesies

He always wears something really cozy and will always wrap you up in or lend it to you

Rubs his cheek on your head while you hug

Will talk very happily and quickly about his day and how it’s gone

He will encourage you to do the same

His has his hair down after school and he’ll let you play with it

Always asks for help with his homework while cuddlings - the two of you will be leaning on each other while one of you explains the other’s work

Often, he’ll hug you on sight and then hand you your favourite snack

Will text you saying that he wants hugs

Likes to ‘wiggle’ you when you hug - idk how to describe it but it’s like he’ll put his hands on your sides and move them, each doing the opposite of the other, up and down

He hums catchy tunes he’s heard on the radio while you cuddle

He closes his eyes during a good hug, he’s that happy

Haiba Lev:

*lightly clears throat* TALL BOY

This boy is a GIANT - especially to the shorter ones of us (5′2″ / 5′3″ peeps anywhere?)

His arms are so long and you can wear them like the cord of a dressing gown, wrapped entirely around your waist

He sometimes has one hand in your hair, long fingers making a mess of the strands, or he’ll gently rub your head or cheeks

He has 2 hug modes, calm and reserved hugs and-

Energy hugs!

He either sits there calmly and quietly, head resting on yours, on your shoulders or between your shoulders

Or he’ll bound up to you and pull you in so fast and tight you could get whiplash

He sways you rapidly and picks you up, kissing you all over and listening to you giggle with love in his eyes

He’ll always have one hand on your waist or head

If the two of you are sitting down to watch a film, he’ll completely encircle you

He’ll place you in his lap and wrap his arms and legs tight around your body, using you as a head rest, and let you lean into him while he steals popcorn from whatever you’re eating it from

Sometimes you’ll both wrap up with a blanket and snuggle inside a joint cocoon

Pulls you to his chest from behind and reaches over you to grab stuff

Complains about training while you give him small massages

He’s freezing (he’s like a stick ok, there’s no f a t (like there is on me, he can have some of mine) boy’s got no insulation) but that just means that your hugs are his personal radiator

Pouts for hugs

Shibayama Yuuki:

He’s pretty shy about hugging you at first, but the two of you soon get used to the affection

He is very sweet with his hugs, they’re all very gentle and soft

He doesn’t squeeze you but his arms aren’t loose either, he just holds you to him perfectly

Hums softly to you while you hug

Once he’s become fully comfortable hugging you, he’ll start to hug you from behind a lot, he thinks it’s the comfiest position

Sometimes, he’ll be feeling a lot stronger, and will grab you into a firmer hug as a result

He likes to talk to you about your day while you hug too

Warm hugs lol, he’s just a comfy hugger

Likes to rest his head on your stomach while you talk, he might even fall asleep

Teshiro Tamahiko:

He can instantly pick up upon when you need a hug and will be there at your side in an instant!

He's got lovely hugs, very sweet about it but just knows what you need

He'll always ask 'Can I hug you?' and will listen unless you're saying know at a time when he knows that you really need a hug

Then it's no holds barred, big squeeze

He nuzzles his head onto your cheek and shoulder

His hands are pretty warm, and they'll rest on your back

He likes to hug you from behind too, when you're sitting down, and will let you lie on him and fall asleep while he strokes your arm

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yandere-mha-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 3: Getting interesting

Words: 2176

You sat alone at your desk that day, looking over at Fumiko who saw you looking knowing that you knew that she was looking at you, and quickly turned her head, she must have felt ashamed about how everything was handled. You were paying attention like usual when you overheard some girls talking.

“So did you hear that Akio got put in the hospital by the nighthawk.” one said

“Really, you would think the heroes would have caught him by now.” the other one said, you had to hold your tongue saying how Akio was actually a bastard and had it coming that night, still then people would talk about you and your involvement and right now you had to finish school, four years of this wasn't about to be flushed down the drain because you were interested in this so-called villain, still it brought up a lot of questions now, how many of these attacks were actually prompted, what other tricks was he able to pull off.

You left your last class around 9 at night, night classes always sucked but what else could you do as you kept walking down the pavement only to see something bright red catch your eye. You stopped to make sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you as you saw the red feather laying on the ground the other way, was this another “gift” of his?

Curiosity may have killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back, so you went over to the feather and it moved down the street, was he playing with you, it was either follow the feather or go home and do more boring work. So you followed the feather to satisfy your curiosity as you went down the street. What exactly was he doing as the feather stopped outside a public park? It was empty or so you thought as you picked up the feather and walked in.

“I believe you dropped this,” you said looking up in a tree to see him with his foot dangling down

“Oh is that where I left it, you are doing me a big favor by bringing it here,” he said as the feather flew out of your hand and attached back to his wings

“I know you can control them, so what is this about?” you asked

“What about it, I am just chilling in a tree.” he said, “you are the one who followed my feather-like a baby duck following its mother.” “I am not a baby duck.” you said “Why do you keep leaving them for me to find?”

“Because...we are both birds,” he said

“You have to be kidding me, I'm not a bird,” you said

“Sure you are, you got them sharp talons, you can do some serious damage to someone if you wanted, is that why you want to become a doctor.”

“Excuse me, how do you know that?” you said

“I can also hear through my feathers you know.” he said “And see, like how a dolphin has echolocation.” “More like a platypus and it's bill,” you said

“Hahah true, true.” he said “When you sliced open my feather oh so rudely the other day, I was also able to see all your textbooks.” He said stretching his wings out “is why you want to become a doctor, because it's the only way you can cut people open without being labeled violent.”

“...” you were silent as one of his bigger feathers nudge your face

“You can tell me.” he said “I am not one to judge here, you know.”

“Why are you so interested in that?” you asked

“Tell you what, you tell me the truth and ill tell you something interesting about my glorious self,” he said

“Okay fine, you got me okay, I don't know what it is but as a child I would find dead animals and just want to use my talons to study them more, I was curious about it,” you said

“Well birds gotta fly, you gotta do that.” Hawks said, “So did your parents find out.”

“They did, they sent me to therapy and I suppressed it, till well I was doing dissection in class and well old habits die hard I guess,” you said

“You are telling me.” Hawks said, patting your head with one of his wings “So then what happened?” “I got sent to the school therapist, again, and she told me my curiosity was good but wasn't being used the right way and that there are other ways to learn about stuff and maybe biology was my passion, but using a scalpel can only go so far.”

“I get that like I can fly a plane, but it isn't anything like using my wings.” Hawks said, “Now my turn, hm let's see what can I tell you.”

“Why are you a villain?” you asked

“I don't like people telling me what to do, I like to do what I want on my terms.” He said, “I can't exactly do that if someone has their hands on my wings.”

“So you don't see yourself as a villain?” you asked

“Not really, the Hero public safety commission has been trying to get their hands on me since I was a child, maybe that's why I;m able to be better than most trained heroes.”

“Really now,” you said, so that's why they were so adamant about catching him.

“Haha, they won't ever catch me.” Hawks said “Anyway, I think you need to stop suppressing your quirk. When I saw you use your quirk on that guy who attacked you, you got scared after using your quirk on him.”

“I was mostly angry at him, why did you go after him?” you asked

“It's what I do, I see someone hurting someone else. I don't care if they are a hero, villain, or civilian.” “Well right now you are the only one who is on my side,” you said kicking the ground

“Funny, I feel the same way about you.” He said with a smile, you laughed a bit

“YOu aren't anything like I expected.” you said “I read so many news stories about how you were some evil killer villain, yet here you are having a full conversation with a civilian.”

“Hahah it's kinda funny when you think about it, you get bored easily huh?”

“I do and I hate it.” you said swinging your arms out “I mean each day something over and over again, learning stuff I already know just so I can satisfy my quirk.”

“Well if you got talons use them, you don't see me not using my wings.” he laughed with you “Still you should enjoy your boredom when you can.” “Haha I’ll try, thanks hawks I feel better,” you said

“I feel better too, when you are running from the law you don't have time to sit back and talk much, most people run away screaming.” “Hmm wonder where they would get that idea from,” you said

“Haha yeah wonder where.” Hawks said before his laughter died down. “Still it's getting late. You should head back to your dorm and enjoy a nice cup of tea.”

“I will, thanks for talking to me, you think we will talk again?” you asked

“Maybe if our paths cross again,” he said standing up in the tree

“What does that mean?” you asked, he just tilted his head before smiling, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone only with a gust of wind left in your face.

Maybe it was the fact you were smiling all day the next day that Fumiko was getting worried about you since at lunch she walked over

“Hey…(name) can we talk?” she asked

“Sure,” you said

“Well, Akio is getting out of the hospital and I would like if we can all talk this out,” she said

“Fine, I'll 'talk 'to him,” you said, wanting to see his face and maybe giving him a couple of good slaps.

“Great, I'm glad we can all sweep this under the rug,” she said, no you were not going to sweep this under the rug, what delusional world was she living in.

Still, you went with her to the hospital to see this man again, you and her went into his hospital room and he was slashed up, good you thought.

“Hey Akio how are you feeling?” she asked

“I'm doing good, thanks,” he said

“That's too bad,” you said crossing your arms

“(name) Akio is recovering can’t you try to forgive him?” she asked

“Forgive him, after what he tried to pull,” you said

“Hey, I was drunk. I didn't know what I was doing.” he said.'' Besides, didn't pay the price, I almost died.” you rolled your eyes

“Oh please if the Nighthawk wanted you dead you would be dead.” you said “I let me tell you i will never forgive you, oh you were drunk, you seem sober enough to try to get me home, to walk out of the bar without stumbling, the only reason I'm not taking this to the police is that I know shit bags like you get off with this every time.”

“Hey I was just trying to be nice!” he said, ” Hey Fumiko I thought you said you were here to smooth things over.”

“That's what I thought.” Fumiko said “Hasn't he suffered enough?

“No,” you said, “and if I see you come near me on campus again, you will wish the NIghthawk killed you.”

“(NAME)!” she yelled at you grabbing your arm, you brushed her off

“You are just as bad as he is,” you said and stomped out you got your message across by slamming the door.

You had better things to do anyways like reviewing your notes, you were getting bored again as you tapped your pencil on your desk.

Hawks on the other hand had just got done stopping a purse snatcher, where were the heroes anyway he thought that there should be more around this time as he reattached one of his bigger Primarie feathers, his work still wasn’t done for the night crime never slept there was always something going on somewhere. But he was getting hungry so he might as well grab something to eat as he landed in an alleyway and hid his wings and put his jacket over and walked into a convenient store to grab a bite.

“Is that all?” he asked

“Yup.” Hawks said

“Okay your total is 580 yen,” he said, hawks took out his coin pouch and paid the man, before leaving, convenience store food was easy to get and rather cheap but he was worried he was gonna gain a gut at this point, with his wings he wouldn't have anything hindering his flight ability, he wondered how miss talons were doing right now, maybe he would stop by for a visit.

You were about to pass out at your desk when you heard a tapping at your window, you looked over and saw Hawks hanging upside down tapping at your window. You walked over and opened the door.

“Oh so our paths do meet again it seems,” you said

“You know it chickadee,” he said. “Man convenience store food is good and all but it's so greasy.”

“How do you pay for that?” you asked

“I take money off the people I beat up.” Hawks said, “You look like you are in a bad mood?”

“I am,” you said

“What's got you under the weather?”Hawks asked

“Akio is getting out of the hospital and everyone is telling me to forgive him when I'm not.” You said

“Ahh well if it makes you feel better, I stole his wallet the other day.” Hawks said, you rolled your eyes

“I wish that made me feel better, I don't know why everyone is thinking I'm in the wrong here,” you said

“People are complicated, they don't like to believe someone they know is capable of doing dirty things.” Hawks said rubbing his chin “You can either let other people get you down when you are in the right, or you can know you are right and say screw em.”

“I say they screwed them.” you said “It feels nice to have someone on my side for once, this school sucks.”

“Why don't you leave, do something worth your time?” Hawks asked

“I...can’t,” you said

“OH, I see.” Hawks said, narrowing his eyes and flipping back up on the pole to his feet, “And here I thought you were different.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you said getting a little upset with him

“Nothing, nothing, I just thought you were a woman who did stuff worth her time is all, it's sad to see you wasting your potential here.” Hawks said

“I'm not wasting-” you want to say but a large gust of wind hit your face again and you sighed, before slamming the window shut in anger, anger that you felt like he was right.

#yandere hawks #yandere keigo takami #yandere keigo #yandere takami #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere

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