#anyways back to my stoic and above-it-all persona. :| | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theworldoffandoming · 6 months

Note

Extremely sad to hear that you didn't receive any character asks before, so I'm making up for it by sending LOTS! :3c Your characters are wonderful and I want to hear more about them. Feel free to answer as many or as few as you'd like!

How about 2, 3, 9, 15, 19, 24, 28, 42, 46, 52 for any characters of your choice :>

Oh my goodness!! Thank you!!

Uh let's see let's see!!

2. How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’?

Oh boy I have a whole essay on this one let's see!!

I wanna start out by saying that I have thought a lot the word for friend in the islanders' language, Zavira Kara. So I think once I talk about that I'll then define what a friend is for each of the characters. Slightly off-topic I guess but I have Thoughts™️

In Zavira Kara, the term for friend is often used in compounds that extend into romantic territory so isn't explicitly a platonic word, but is understood to be one way or another in certain contexts. But anyways, the word in question, 'tawe,' is a very simple compound comprised of 'ta,' meaning one, and 'we' (pronounced weh), meaning two. In its simplest sense it refers to a pair. They might use a different word when referring to more than one friend, not sure. 🤔 Anyways, tawe generally refers to someone you have a longstanding sense of camaraderie with.

Now for specifics.

Tsuname - Coming at it from this angle, a tawe is like a chair you can lean back on. If you've been out for a long time and are tired, they're someone you can come back to and rest for a while with.

Sz'nami - A tawe is like a door. Lots of potential, full of adventure and the unknown. Even doors you've passed through hundreds of times can still hold excitement and mystery, even if they've grown familiar.

Sh'zkai - At worst, a tawe is a chain. It holds you down, grounds you to the place where everyone expects you to be. At best, it's similar to Sz'nami's view. A door, full of unknowns and uncharted waters. It also makes it a little dangerous.

Ril'siiya - A tawe is everybody. You're a tawe, he's a tawe, she's a tawe. We're all tawe! Now a riho or a riha tawe... That's like a brother or a sister. That's much more serious and is a much closer bond. Not quite blood family, there's a small degree of separation there, but very close and in her case closer than she was even to certain blood relatives. A riha or riho tawe is someone's arms you can fall back into and rest in.

And that's all the islanders I'll do for now. Moving on...

Korosa - a friend is a joke to him. At best, perhaps it could be some kind of war bond. It annoys him to see people being friendly. Often leads him to believe people are conspiring against him (his defining trait is paranoia btw). It would take a long time for him to call anybody truly a friend. Deep down, I think he does wish he could have someone he could trust. Maybe that's part of what irks him about seeing people being friendly with each other. On the one hand he thinks it's stupid and they're stupid and that they're playing with fire and waiting to be stabbed in the back. Perhaps even thinks he's above them. That he's smarter for not making dumb decisions and trusting people like them. That all he needs are his weapons and his shop and his things. That he doesn't need them or their approval, let alone their affection. His craft speaks for itself and he knows his own worth.

Okay, maybe answered that in a roundabout way, but moving on XD;

3. How often do they show their genuine emotions to others versus just the audience knowing?

Shiido's very stoic, so it takes an audience look generally to know what's going on inside. If he's particularly angry sometimes some cold anger may slip through the cracks. Generally though he's learned not to show weakness.

Waizu is often a puzzle, creating a persona and acting kind to get the results he wants. Sometimes though, the faintest hint of his real emotions do shine through. He's a little more expressive around those he doesn't need to put on an act around, but even then there still can be a layer of distance.

Korosa is far more of an open book than he'd like people to think. Though he can put on an act, he's generally bad at hiding his real emotions, much to his detriment. His solution is generally just to mask everything with anger. Usually cracks start to form though and there will be something of a tell. Shaking fists, avoiding eye contact, stuttering depending on what emotion he's trying to hide.

Nell is a practiced performer. It generally takes someone he can let down his guard with or someone he's particularly angry with to start showing tells. A flick of the tail, a calculating look, a tilt of the head, whatever it may be. For everyone else he puts on a performance. Rarely if ever will you see any real emotion out of performance mode, but if you're lucky (or unlucky) you might get a few tells- an ominous blank stare if you've made him angry, or he's perceived a serious threat from you; an undertone of exasperation if you've annoyed him.

Tsuname I don't even think has ever tried to hide his emotions. That's not to say he's incapable of showing respect, though that does get a lot worse after he gets back from space. But yeah, generally he shows his emotions to any and everyone indiscriminately. If he ever does learn to mask, it will probably be with sorrow or great effort. Being told he was effeminate at a delicate point in his life I think kind of froze his maturity in time. It's only once he starts being mentored by Gangarame that he starts to learn how to take responsibility for his actions and be a man when he's felt like just a boy all his life.

Naru also tends to show her real emotions pretty indiscriminately and similarly lacks self-control. Ironically she might be slightly better on both fronts than Tsuname though. She does have moments of being more stoic and reclusive, especially later in life, but the former is generally her thinking face and the latter may be a more of a symptom of distrust and suspicion than emotional masking. A defense mechanism of sorts.

Sz'nami is more of a middle ground. She for sure shows emotions, but is one of the best at regulating. There's for sure little tells if she's hiding an emotion. She isn't able to completely mask her emotions, especially strong ones, but she definitely has some endurance when it comes to them and can pretty well mask smaller ones. Probably the healthiest emotional expressor of the bunch.

Ril'siiya - Very expressive, probably a middle ground between Tsuname and Sz'nami. More than happy to express how she feels, but has far more emotional endurance than someone like Tsuname. Is genuine and friendly with everyone she meets. Does little to mask fear, though it's a non-neglible amount. Will yell at you if she is genuinely furious, but you'd have to have pushed her far to get there. If you annoy her it will start seeping out. Though genuine and expressive, she does have a non-neglible masking ability and has the ability to process her emotions, even if they are loud. What the audience will get to know is likely details of what's going on with her behind the scenes. Characters might get more of an overview unless it's a deep conversation.

9. Do they give tough love or gentle love most often? Which do they prefer to receive?

Korosa- gives tough with a capital T. I don't even think he knows how to give it gentle and his efforts to do so would be stilted. I think secretly he'd prefer to receive gentle, though if he ever encountered it he'd likely perceive it as a threat.

Sh'zkai - If Korosa's is tough, hers is razor sharp. Even with someone she genuinely cares about she'd probably be pretty brutal if they came to her for advice. She might prefer to take it tough too. Though on some level she probably likes being treated gently, being fawned over makes her uncomfortable, so there's a line there.

(Terramun folk)

Kokuen - famous for her edgelady status. I think there's some part of her that wants to be treated gently, but when she encounters it she tends to assume the worst about people. She's not very good at taking tough love though. She prefers to dish it out in heaps, but doesn't tolerate it from anyone else.

Elyse - probably unintentionally sharp. It doesn't help that Kokuen's rubbed off on her. Though she can take it, she finds tough love kind of annoying, especially since it generally means a lecture from Kokuen these days. On the other hand, she doesn't know how to process gentle love, so she probably prefers somewhere in between. I think she appreciates people being genuine with her.

Harsha- prefers to dish it out gentle, but is more resilient to tough love than you might expect, probably also thanks to Kokuen. Too much can probably get annoying, but it'd have to be something intentionally sharp or biting.

Lico - gives gentle, prefers gentle. He grew up in a tough environment with a lot of criticism directed towards him, so he tends to be gentle with people. It's how he would have wanted to be treated.

Taffy - though he can for sure handle tough love, I think does prefer gentle. I think he can get a bit defensive when the tough stuff's directed at him. I think on general he's gentle with people, but will give it tough for particularly obstinate cases where actual harm could come from a situation.

15. What’s the most obvious difference between their behavior at home, at work, at school, with friends, and when they’re alone?

Shiido - I think for sure his expressiveness. Though he tends to mask around people, he's far more expressive when he's alone, though even then he might still hold a little back.

Korosa - probably acts pretty similar between work and being alone since he spends so much time at the shop, often by himself. Just puts on more of an act for people. When he's not at the shop, probably forced to be because of moving locations with the platoon, he might let down his guard a little in his tent.

Friends probably fall into that acting category until they really get through to him. Back with the platoon though, people generally gave up on getting to know him, so he didn't have any friends there. Even his customers usually just put in an order and tried to interact with him face to face as little as possible. He's pushed everyone there away and several people are frankly sick of him, even his commander.

19. What would they do if stuck in a room with the person they’ve been avoiding?

Korosa - Accuse them of stalking probably and make it out to be the other person's fault they're stuck here.

Naru - Squeeze herself into a corner and glare.

Shiido - strike up a conversation with them.

Tsuname - awkwardly wave and talk to them nervously.

Ril'siiya - express in no uncertain terms that she's annoyed with the other person and was trying to avoid them. Probably annoy them and poke them.

Sh'zkai - plot their demise.

Sz'nami - make awkward small talk with them.

Kokuen - make death threats probably.

Elyse - find a corner of the room to lay on the floor in.

Harsha - Say hello awkwardly and fidget.

Lico - Try to find out more about the other person.

24. Did they take a cookie from the cookie jar? What kind of cookie was it?

(Twin Scars characters; project on indefinite hiatus)

Isura - yes, sugar cookie

Megan - yes, it had pink glitter sprinkles on it

28. What do they tell people they want? What do they actually want?

I'll tell you what I want

What I really, really want

So tell me what you want

What you really, really want

I wanna (Hey!), I wanna (Hey!)

If you wanna be my lover

You gotta get with my friends (Gotta get with my friends)

Make it last forever, friendship never ends

Anyways... XD

Naru - especially as a teen she'd tell people she wanted a hug. What she really wanted though was a deeper relationship.

Shiido - will rarely tell people what he wants unless it's something mundane. If we're talking any emotional need, you had to have really bothered him to get him to express it. He probably wants to be left alone, which is true. He probably needs to decompress and think.

What he won't tell you is that he's trying to find the middle ground between conviction and happiness. That he'd only tell someone he really trusts. He wants to be happy without guilt. He wants to find a way to do things right. At least that's where he's at in his late teens.

Tsuname - For all his emotionalness, he may not actually be very honest with people about what he wants unless pushed. Even if it's something mundane, he may hem and haw until he has no choice but to ask. Otherwise he might find a way to get whatever it is he's looking for on his own. He also isn't very honest about his emotional needs unless it's very clear there's a disconnect and he's desperate enough to be understood. Most often, he'd probably tell people to leave for their own safety. If he's been pushed far enough into expressing that, leave quietly or tread with extreme caution and be prepared.

Ril'siiya - If it's some material object, she will give you a list. Otherwise, it depends. If you've made her angry and she wants you to leave, she will probably point away and tell you in no uncertain terms. She probably needs to recover her shredded dignity. If you've annoyed her, wow, you must have been really trying hard to. She will probably shoo you away so she can similarly recover. For any mundane need like that she'll be pretty upfront about it. She's bored, she will tell you and then go off to find stimulation. It's the deeper needs that are harder to get out of her. She buries a lot of that deep down and keeps it locked. Might not even be honest with herself about it, it's so shut down inside. Even then it's probably something generic, like, wants to be understood, maybe wants to be loved but the memory of her family being taken from her is right there with it so she flinches back from the idea and fills her life with all various things to keep it down and buried. She finds other ways to be fulfilled generally, and she isn't without familial love in the form of Sz'nami and even her grandmother to some extent. So it isn't like that need goes unfulfilled either. It's just not something she says with words, so relationships where she has to express those deeper needs verbally are harder for her.

Korosa - will tell people he wants to be left alone. Deep down though, he also seeks someone who will understand him.

42. If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be?

Elyse - Why Kokuen is a Bully and Should be Avoided

Kokuen - Why Clark is Definitely Stalking Me

46. Are they a listener or a talker? If they’re a listener, what makes them talk? If they’re a talker, what makes them listen?

Ril'siiya LOVES to talk. She will talk SO much. You really have to be serious and level with her to get her to listen. She will probably be looking for opportunities to keep talking though. She is someone who generally enjoys the cadence of her own speech and gets carried away.

Shiido - a listener with a slice of talking. He might talk just to keep the conversation going. But beyond conjunctive phrases, to really get him talking you have to get him going on something he's interested in and it has to be specific. Definitely don't hit him with open-ended questions. He will give the shortest answer possible. It probably takes knowing ahead of time what will work, a good guess or just luck, but if you start saying something like "I'm looking into getting a new spaceship..." He will talk endlessly about the different models and upgrades and automatically go into salesman mode and recommend you something based on what he knows. So I guess the method with him is act like you're looking for something he has some knowledge base in. This works with food to a lesser degree, but he may not be as loquacious. But yeah, really mundane stuff like that or even maybe specific stuff about flooring or other interior design elements might get him going a bit. Robots are also probably a topic he could talk extensively on given the right lead-in. If it's something mechanical there's a good chance he'll know something. If it's out of his depth, he'll probably recommend you do your research.

Tsuname - Definitely more of a talker. These days it's a little harder to get him talking, but he likes doing it. He certainly isn't comfortable just listening either. To get him really listening probably takes some finesse. It probably has to be someone really good with words and preferably knowing about him to get him to calm down and listen. Otherwise it probably took violence to get to this point.

Naru - talker, but she isn't that verbose, not unless you've really got her going. She'll probably listen just as readily if you level with her, but she will get uncomfortable if it goes on too long.

Sh'zkai - in theory she could be more of a listener, but she generally doesn't pay you heed. She prefers to be the one doing the talking, even if she uses speech more like a weapon and a shield than deriving any joy out of it. She probably would be more than happy to let you talk, she just won't listen. She only really listens if there's something in it for her.

Korosa - prefers to be the one on top of the conversation, but he will listen if you're sincere. He will definitely be the one trying to come out of top of the conversation at first though. He might learn how listen better later. There is still some part of him that likes to talk a little, but in general he uses them like knives. Tools for cutting open the conversation and getting at what lies underneath. If he feels he can successfully master the conversation, he does get some satisfaction from that though.

Sz'nami - While she for sure likes to talk and likes the sound of her own voice a little, she's more than happy to listen to other people. She definitely derives joy out of being able to bear someone's burden. It makes her feel important. She may get a little impatient if someone goes on too long, but it would have to be an especially long and self-absorbed rant to get to that point.

52. Do they act on their immediate emotions, or do they wait for the facts before acting?

Naru - especially as a teen she tended to go wherever her emotions took her. She had to learn the hard way that acting on them would lead to disaster.

Shiido - He operates more on convictions than emotions. If something isn't right he'll prioritize that over what his emotions are telling him. He's for sure a planner, especially when he has the opportunity to do so.

Sz'nami - a little bit of both I wanna say. She'll for sure act on emotion if she thinks the situation calls for it. There are other times she might want to get away and plan first though. Maybe step back and observe for a bit.

Ril'siiya - Depends on the situation. She tends to express her emotions pretty quickly, but there might be times she chooses to step back and observe/plan if she's uncertain or there's something that requires a little thought.

Thanks for all the asks!!!

#Kaze OCs #Oc talk #Oc asks #Oc ask answers #Kaze talks #Kaze talks about OCs #Aliens #Terramun #Twin Scars

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duskamethyst · 4 years

Text

broken reverie.

a/n: he’s not wearing glasses in this one.

word count: 3.9k

genre: smut, nsfw, college AU

warnings: taboo rs, slapping, spanking, choking, face fucking, brat taming (kind of), slight degradation, creampie, age gap (nanami reaching 40)

pairing: professor!nanami x f!reader

summary: professor nanami calls you to his office to ‘talk’ about your terrible performance in his class.

maybe you went too far.

or else you wouldn’t have ended up in his office.

but is this the outcome you coveted? yes.

the door creaks behind you before it closes again as you sit and wait in front of the big wooden desk. you were kind of excited when he told you to come and see him at his office earlier but now you’re having a whirlwind of emotions making your stomach churn and you don’t dare to look around to face him– even though he’s going to be sitting in front of you in a moment.

his shoes clack against the floor as he strides and sits on his chair. the air in the room feels dense when the male doesn’t say anything; as if you’re not in his presence to begin with.

he looks exasperated. a long, deep breath is emitted through his nostrils as he loosens up his tie from the collar. you only gawk at him in awe as he does so, but quickly snap out when he finally shifts his gaze at you.

“so, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he finally breaks the silence. the deep, husky tone of his voice fills your ear and you hope he doesn’t notice your thighs press against each other almost immediately.

“tell you.. what?” you mentally slap yourself. you’re clearly aware of what he’s insinuating but you’re suddenly lost for words. there’s a huge difference between seeing him in class and being alone together with him. it’s even more nerve wrecking than you imagined and oh god, is his ac broken? because it suddenly feels hot.

nanami raises a brow, evidently unamused. “i had the courtesy to make time for you when i should be having brunch now so i don’t appreciate you playing coy.”

you gulp audibly, “i’m sorry, sir.”

“if it’s not clear to you yet, i’m talking about your grades.” he opens the drawer under his desk and pulls out a pile of paper before slamming it in front of you. you blink in surprise and flip through the pages, though you know you don’t need to see it when you already know what lies on them. there are a lot of red circles on the papers, namely yours, with huge unpleasant numbers on the corner ranging from 12% to 25%.

then he takes out another file which you realize as your student record throughout your semester and the subjects you currently take.

“i find it odd that you scored well for your other courses.” he skims through the pages. “you certainly didn’t cheat, i can tell.”

“no, of course not.”

“then, what’s the problem here?” his tired eyes bore into you as he waits for you to answer or come up with whatever excuse.

“well, i–”

“you’re doing it on purpose.” he snaps.

it’s as if time comes to a stop. your cheeks heat up with humiliation and you can’t bring yourself to continue to look at him in the eyes. although you’re aware that your silence means compliance, you’re still jumbling up words in your head to deny his assumption.

“are you going to tell me i’m wrong?”

“yes– i-i mean–” you stammer.

“then enlighten me.” he glances at the branded watch donned on his left wrist. “we have time.”

you shake your head, “i have another class soon.”

“skip it.” he quickly retorts. “i’m sure you have no problems with that. your grades are doing well for that one, but certainly not mine.”

sweat starts to form on your palms as you look down on your thighs, purposely avoiding his eyes that hold nothing but so much intensity. you’re weighing between two options; to keep on bluffing or come clean. you don’t think that nanami would let you get off the hook if you keep on lying and you’d definitely be bombarded with more questions, yet the outcome of the latter would be so embarrassing and you don’t know if you can live it down for the rest of the semester.

you’ve fantasized about being alone with him but.. not particularly this way.

gathering courage and taking a deep breath, you decide it’s best to just tell him the truth.

“you’re right,” you feel your ears burning, hands clammy. “i purposely failed your class.”

lifting up your head, you see the male grinning lopsidedly in his seat. maybe he’s pleased that you’re not wasting his time anymore, you’re not sure, he’s not easy to read.

“wasn’t that easy?” he folds his arms in front of his chest. “i have my own speculation but i wanna hear why you did it.”

“um,” you look down to your hands again, also half wondering what kind of bold assumption he has in mind. “i was dared by my friend.”

“wrong,” he scoffs. “and look at me while you’re talking.”

you sigh defeatedly and nervously fix your gaze. if you’ve learned one thing now, it’s that your professor doesn’t have tolerance for bullshit and he knows one when he hears one.

“i-i did it for.. attention.”

“my attention?” he emphasizes, maintaining his stoic persona to mask his amusement of finding out that his speculation turns out to be indeed true.

you purse your lips in a thin line, nodding your head quietly. nanami remains to stare at you as he ponders in silence. you can hear your heart beating rapidly in your ears and you want to break eye contact so badly but you’re certain it wouldn’t be wise.

“all that, just for a crumb of my attention?” he spits with a hint of venom in his voice. “are you happy with what you did?”

well, you’ve imagined him punishing you on his desk, fuck you raw or spank you with his belt until your ass turns red– not some serious interrogation.

“no, sir.”

nanami props his elbows on the table, hands clasped under his chin to keep his head up. the air around him becomes even more threatening but it somehow manages you to feel even more aroused, making your toes curl in your shoes. you definitely need to get out soon.

“you know, if i have even one student failing my class, i could get into trouble and be questioned for my performance.” he starts. “to have you doing that for your own selfish incentive is unacceptable, don’t you think?”

“i’m sorry.” you mumble with meek.

“besides that, you might have to retake this course again for your next semester and it’ll waste your time– or..?”

you stay silent to let him continue.

“or you were intending to be in my class again so you can see me?”

“y-yes.” you bashfully admit after one silent moment, knowing that lying will take you nowhere. “i’m sorry, sir.”

nanami chuckles, finding your naivety to be rather entertaining. never has he ever met a student like you, outwardly expressing their interest in him by failing their paper. he’s not too sure what you’re trying to get out of him but maybe he can put one and one together. it’s pretty common that younger women have an attraction to older men like him and your classmates are.. well, not exactly the best looking either.

“are you?” he smirks cynically. “do you have any idea how many students i have to monitor? how tiring my job can be?”

“yes. it was inconsiderate of me. i’m sor–”

“show me.” nanami cuts you off and leans back on his chair. maybe he can push you a little bit, he thinks. you owe him this anyway.

you blink, perplexed. “what?”

“you kept saying sorry.” he undoes two of the buttons on his blue dress shirt and spreads his legs apart. “talk is cheap. show me.”

you do a double take as he taps his thigh and waits for you to come over. you have the faintest idea of what he’s implying but your body freezes and your brain short-circuits as if paralyzed.

“you chose to lie again? you’re not really sorry, are you?”

“no, no! that’s not it. i just..”

an ongoing battle takes place in your mind– sure that this is a part of your deepest, darkest fantasy yet you’re just baffled over how quick nanami catches on to it. now that your debaucherous dream has become a vivid reality, you don’t know which is the right step to take.

“but if not now, when?” a soft voice in your head whispers. if desire could embody a voice, you think this is it. gentle, yet seductive as if it attempts to give you a push to pluck and have a taste of the forbidden fruit.

“how much longer do you have to touch yourself to the thoughts of your professor before you go to bed?”

“although this could be a one time thing, at least you’d know how it feels like.”

you slowly get up from your seat and make your way towards him. nanami’s eyes trail up at you, down to the floor then back up at you; gesturing you to get on your knees.

you settle between his thick thighs and look up at him timidly through your lashes before you bring your hands to undo his belt.

“no hands.” he quickly demands.

you lick your lips as you figure the structure of the belt and how you’re going to take it off without the aid of your hands. the taste of cold metal and leather instantly invades your palate as you feebly use your teeth to tug the front loop of his belt. your head shifts awkwardly side to side until you finally get to catch the buckle between your teeth, pulling it hard before the belt soon unfastens.

nanami only observes you indifferently from above, yet the large tent in front of you doesn’t conceal the excitement he currently possesses.

you take a deep breath before you continue on succeeding your quest. you twist your neck as you find and tug on the fabric loop that holds the button.

“i know you’re a smart girl.” he praises as he rests his hand on top of your head while you struggle to lift up the zipper with your tongue and grasp it between your teeth. the simple praise inflates your confidence and you become more eager to complete your task so you can claim your awaiting prize.

with valiantness, you finally lock eyes with him as you pull down his zipper completely to reveal the huge bulge pressing against the fabric of his briefs and the tip slightly poking out from the top.

“hm? you still have to take it out, no?” he smirks as he notices you gape at the outline of his cock.

you quickly pull yourself together and lean back up to the stretchy band on his waist. he hisses when he feels your tongue purposely graze against the flushed tip before you pull down the briefs by force to reveal the one thing you’ve been desiring for so long.

you press your thighs together as a dull ache forms in your core from the sight of his thick cock standing proudly in front of you. it’s nothing like you’ve ever imagined– it’s better and you’ve finally found it worth going through all that trouble of failing his class (and using your mouth to take off his pants).

“this is what you want, isn’t it?” he sneers, titling up your chin with his fingers, brushing your lips with his thumb and pulling the bottom lip apart so he can see a row of teeth.

“y-yes, sir.” you gulp and breathe as you wait for his next command.

nanami’s lips tug into a conceited smirk, “suck.”

leaning down your head to the base, you flatten your tongue underneath the shaft and slowly drag upwards in favor of reveling the veins on his hard cock. nanami lets out a sigh of content when he feels your tongue licking his tip and his hand tugs on your locks by reflex. you look at him as you wrap your lips around the tip, slobbering the tip with your saliva and his precum.

“fuck.” he curses under his breath and his head falls back when the warmth of your mouth finally engulfs his throbbing cock as you take most of the length inside your mouth.

you hollow your cheeks together, head bobbing up and down as you struggle to take more of his cock that you nearly choke whenever the tip hits the back of your throat, but the hand on top of your head grabs a fistful of your hair and he pushes your head down to sink all his length inside your mouth deeper. when you want to pull away, he only holds you in place and remains his cock down your throat.

“through your nose.” he mutters. tears start to well in your eyes while your saliva just trickles down to his balls as he screws his eyes shut and relishes in the pleasure that washes throughout his body. “i needed this so bad, you know?”

your whines only give him more stimulation and his hips jerk in response, “just wouldn’t think that a student– fuck– out of all people would choke on my dick.” he lets out a sardonic chuckle as if something just crossed his mind. “it’s wrong, but that’s what makes it feel so good, isn’t it?”

nanami keeps you in the position as he ruts his hips slowly into your throat. his eyes are closed in concentration and his lips part slightly in fast and short pants. you work on your gag reflex as you let him fuck your mouth, enduring the sharp sting on your scalp when he tugs your hair harder– at least you know you’re making him feel good.

“if i cum in your mouth, you’d gladly swallow, won’t you?”

you can feel his cock twitching when you let out a choke of assent from your throat but you splutter as soon as nanami abruptly pulls away his cock because of a sudden knock on the door that startles the both of you.

“get under the desk.” he urges and you quickly crawl to hide while he coughs and inches closer to his desk. “come in.”

you hear the door open followed by echoes of footsteps before it comes to a halt in front of his desk.

“didn’t i tell you to contact me before seeing me?” his voice is laced with irritation yet collected as he speaks. you can imagine the agitated look on his face, thinking it would be only natural for anyone to assume that he’s already having a bad day. and to them, interrupting the peak of his orgasm is most definitely not it.

without a second thought, you take back his dick inside your mouth. a spur of triumph swells in your chest when you feel his body jolts in surprise. you think it’s only fair since he has choked you with his cock and what perfect timing to carry out your petty vengeance when the man is busy advising his student.

however, nanami shifts on his seat to give you more access to take more length of his cock. he tries to stay composed as he feels your tongue gliding up and down his shaft but once the wet muscle prods against the slit, he emits an oddly sharp exhale. you can hear him almost stammering as he speaks and the way his tone changes to conceal the squelching sounds you elicit from underneath the table as you please his cock with zeal.

“so, i want you to fix the mistake and hmm..,” his hands ball into fists on the table as he takes a deep breath. “show me in class tomorrow.”

“sure. uh, are you okay, sir?” you hear the voice say. “you don’t look well.”

his eye twitches when your tongue wraps around his balls, taking one inside your mouth to suck harshly.

“yeah, fine.” he clears his throat. “thanks for asking.”

nanami only watches as his student turns to walk towards the door until the door closes behind him. once he’s sure that the student has left the door, he finally leans back on his chair in relief.

“fuck.” he groans, glancing down at you as you look up at him innocently with doe eyes and your swollen lips wrapped prettily around his balls. yet, he looks dissatisfied more than anything.

nanami grabs your arm and drags you out from under his desk until you’re on your feet, “i never took you as a fucking brat.” he lifts up your skirt and bites back a groan once he sees the damp patch on your panties. “did you touch yourself?”

you hum a ‘mhm’, feigning guiltlessness as he grazes his fingers on your inner thighs.

“you’re just asking for me to touch you here, hm?” shivers run up your spine when his thumb ghosts over your wet slit and up to your clit.

“y-yes.” your breath hitches.

“begging for me to push your head on the table and ram my cock inside you?” he muses, pressing on your clit as he watches you squirm. “is that what you want?”

“please–” you roll your hips slightly to soothe the ache on his thumb but a hand comes down harshly on your ass, gesturing for you to stop in a fierce manner.

nanami chuckles mockingly, “well, that’s what exactly you’re not going to get.”

a whine elicits from your lips when he draws back his hands to his thighs and you glance at his dick; still throbbing and leaking precum from the florid tip. well, at least he hasn’t put it back inside his pants, so you still have a chance.

“come on. you haven’t shown me how much you’re sorry.”

with your inhibitions already flew out of the window, you stand in between his thighs, hoist the skirt to your waist and tug your panties to the side before squatting down to smear your slick on his dick. sparks of arousal swim through you as you grind your clit on the tip before you sink down, gasping as his thick cock stretches your cunt and down until you’re filled to the brim.

you glance at the male expectantly, waiting for him to move but he raises a questioning brow at you, “if you want something, work for it.”

not exactly what you sought for, but it should suffice. you begin to gyrate your hips slowly, adjusting to his size before you can pick up the pace. you fight the urge to hold onto him for leverage, in fear he wouldn’t appreciate the crumple on his expensive dress shirt later.

as you become more delirious, you start to hump his cock vigorously, whining like a bitch in heat as you feel every vein and ridges on his cock brushing deliciously against your walls. nanami lifts the hem of your shirt and brings it up to your mouth and you quickly catch it between your teeth.

“the door isn’t locked, you know.” he muses, staring at your bouncing tits with half lidded eyes; mesmerized and thick with lust. “what’s going to happen if someone comes in and sees you bouncing on her professor’s cock like a little whore?”

a low, guttural sound rips from his throat when he feels your walls clenching around him in response.

“you’d like that, don’t you?” he smirks, tugging your bra down slightly and brushes his thumb against the erected nipple, making you mewl through the fabric in your mouth.

“you know you’re not supposed to do this but,” he brings up his thumb to caress your cheek. “you’re just so eager to please me, aren’t you?”

you sniffle in response, hands clutching on his solid thighs as you melt into his soft gaze before it’s gone in an instant.

“but i don’t like brats.” he sneers, drawing his hand away to slap your breast. “i don’t like people making my job harder. are you a brat?”

you shake your head, he slaps again.

“you act like one. stop lying.”

nanami tugs down the shirt from your mouth, a part of the fabric already drenched with your drool. his large hand circles around your throat while the other grips your hip firmly to roll your hip even faster on his dick.

“oh– feels good–!” you moan wantonly, eyes rolling back as you let him control your body and assert his dominance over you.

“fuck it does.” he presses your throat tighter on the sides, restricting air from entering your lungs but your walls squeeze harder in retaliation.

“bratty little bitch. clamping down on me like that.” he grits out and slaps across your face. what seems to be a rather harsh form of treatment, the pleasure filled sting and the lack of oxygen only fuel your arousal that you don’t even notice the way you hump on his cock has become more rapturous.

“getting off to this?” nanami slaps your other cheek before he lets go of his grip around your neck and you’re finally able to breathe air again. yet, he doesn’t spare you time to gather yourself before he promptly lifts up your hips and starts to pound inside your cunt relentlessly.

the position causes you to tip to the front and you immediately hold on to him; face burying on the crook of his neck while his cologne fills your senses and sends you into a state of frenzy.

“you like me using your tight cunt like that?” nanami grabs your ass for leverage, the angle allows him to fuck you so deep that you’re able to feel his cockhead kissing your cervix with each thrust.

“y-yes–!” you cry, the pressure in your stomach building up as you inch closer to an orgasm.

“like it when i use you to take out my frustrations?” he spanks the meaty flesh; walls clenching tighter on his fat cock and more slick dripping down his balls. “you just want to be my little cocksleeve, don’t you?”

“yesyesyes– please–!” your body starts to tremble above him. “w-wanna cum–”

“then fucking cum.” nanami rams into your cunny faster, abusing the spongy walls until the pressure snaps and tips you over the edge. you moan breathlessly into his neck, while your pussy gushes and creams around his cock.

“that’s a good girl,” he fucks you through your high, grunting and panting as he pushes through the pulsing walls in order to chase his high. “and good girls get rewarded, right?”

you hum in agreement, still dazed and swimming in ecstasy as you gawk at him with heavy lidded eyes; the sweat glistening his forehead and sharp eyes focusing on where your bodies join.

“then you’re gonna get some huge load in this pretty pussy.” his pace begins to stutter, nails digging deeper into your skin before his cock twitches and his hips freeze as he paints your insides white with cum.

both exhausted bodies rest against each other, chests heaving as you and nanami take time to regain composure and come down from your highs. he lifts you up slightly to take out his spent cock and he tugs back your panties in place, not minding the cum that dribbles from your quivering hole.

your legs tremble once you get off of him that you have to force yourself to find your footing as you fix your skirt while the older male pulls back his pants in place.

“do your best for your next papers, no more of that bullshit.” he fastens his buttons and straightens his tie before raising his hands to brush against his sleek, light brown hair that’s mixed with a few strands of grey. “but if you have any problems, just come and see me in my office.”

nanami falls quiet for a brief second to contemplate and you straighten your back when you once again meet his icy gaze, “after hours.”

enjoyed this piece? wanna buy me coffee? :)

#nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami fanfic #jjk fanfic #r; writes #tw; age gap

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wornoutmouse · 3 years

Note

I don’t know how to ask you this bestie 😩… But if you write incest do you mind doing one where all might’s daughter has a crush on Endeavor? And they both smash her… Feel free to make it stepcest if that’s more comfortable 🥲

DON’T BESTIE ME YOU FREAK!!!!-

Anyways, congrats on being my FIRST controversial ask. That being said, it took me a while to figure out whether or not I would write this one 🤔. Of course, this will be one of the ones I won’t be able to post on Wattpad lmao, but I’ll give it a go!

If you didn’t already read the request, I will give you the necessary warnings again.

tw: incest….. never thought this day would come, dp

Author's annual moral PSA: I would hope I wouldn't have to tell yall I don't condone this irl. This is both illegal in many states, and in all ways an abuse of power and trust. Not to mention no one should look at their family members in this way and if it has happened to you don't be ashamed of it as it is not your fault but seek help because it is dangerous in the long run. This is for pure fantasy purposes

You are not underage in this fic. I never do underaged work.

There is way too much plot in this

Your cheeks were stretched wide enough to rival your fathers’ as you ran home. Your feet bounce and your pull at your braids nervously as you look out the window of the train, the excitement you felt made you restless to get home. Your neighbors watched you as you ran by, dents caused by your shoes hitting the pavement as your quirk flowed through your pumping blood. “Dad!”

You slam your front door open and scramble through the labyrinth of your rich home. Tossing open your father’s office door unaware of how your outburst startles All Might. “Y-Yes what is it?” Papers flutter all around as you carelessly glide through Toshinori’s neatly stacked papers. You slam the slightly crumpled papers onto his desk, ignoring how the sheer strength of your hand nearly causes his cold cup of coffee to fall. “Remember how 3rd years get the chance to have the first pick in finding the company they’ll sidekick for?!”

All Might watches you with fondness in his eyes as he cleans his glasses off. He was now far in his years, a healthy 82. His hair was now less of a golden yellow and more of beige as it silvered slowly. He was still his normal towering height, retained much of his muscles, and could periodically assume his big form now that he finally had the time to rest and heal properly. “You mean the program that you talked about every day because it was free.”

You roll your eyes, “Free for me, not for you. Anyways look, look, look!” You hold the paper in his face and he takes it from you, “I see you were accepted into your first choice at-” You snatch the paper from him and hop around excitedly, “-At Endevā Jimusho And that’s not even the best part!” All Might's contempt face drops, “All sidekicks get to stay in a guest house in close quarters with Endeavor himself!!"

Joy no longer existed in Toshinori's emotional library. "Absolutely not." Your face falls and your rant halts completely. "What?" Yagi puts his glasses on and shuffles through his papers stiffly, "I do not agree on Endeavors training methods." You raise an eyebrow, "Is this coming from the man that punched Pro-Hero Dynamite and Deku into buildings during an emergency villain drill? In front of everyone?"

Yagi hides his face behind a stapled packet, "I was giving them a taste of reality, a villain does not care for a hero's well-being." You sit down on his desk, legs crossed before curling your finger over his paper, your eyes miss how AllMight briefly glances down, “Yes, but isn’t it a job as a hero to protect people, even the students they train?” Yagi craned his neck until it makes a satisfying crack, a smirk adorning his lips. “I suppose you are right.”

He thinks for a moment before silently shuffling his papers before returning his gaze to your hopeful face, “Why should I assist you with your obvious little crush on my coworker?” You clearly stiffen “Well if it will make you happy-” You don’t allow him to finish before your arms around his shoulders squeezing his neck with most of your strength.

AllMight watches you leave his room slightly disheartened, reaching into his desk drawer he pulls out his phone and dials. “What do you want?” AllMight leans back in his chair pulling at his pants to loosen the tension in his groin, “A proposition.”

The next day Yagi is driving you to your new home for the next 6 months. Your eyes glaze over with futuristic thoughts on how your stay would be. “Everything is so shiny!” Yagi shrugs as he pulls into the parking lot. Enji was always minimalistic when it came to modern designs.” Your head snaps to Toshinori’s side of the car, “His name is Enji!?” Your question is laughed off as Toshinori shuts the car off.

Although your amazement is captured solely by the prospect of working with a pro-hero, the fact that your father is a pro-hero does not go unnoticed by the people around you. “Is that AllMight!” “Should I ask for his picture?!” Even with Yagi’s shadow enveloping your body your attention hones in on the automatic glass doors in front of you.

Inside there is a crowd of students experiencing orientation and getting assigned their respective dorm and possible roommate. You take your first steps in their direction before your arm is pulled and Yagi dawns a playful grin as he presses his finger to his lips. You follow him, eyebrows furrowed “You aren’t trying to change my mind are you?” You don’t get an answer as you are dragged along.

Stairs after stair you follow your father until you come to the very top, legs throbbing but interest peaked. Yagi opens two double doors as easily as breathing and your eyes go wide as the broad shoulders of a familiar hero come into view. “You’re finally here, took you long enough.” Your heart beats in your chest, auburn hair, broad shoulders, and a stoic face that you’d only seen on television, now present in front of you. Yagi shuts the door causing you to jump, “Oh um hi!” A large hand touches your shoulder making you jump” Calm down Y/n!” A cheerful exclamation rings out from above you as Yagi transforms into his larger form.

Heavy footsteps make the room shake wherever the two men walk around the room, “I heard you wanted to meet with me.” Your demeanor goes from uneasy to panicked giggling, “O-Oh really, who told you that!’ AllMight chuckles before patting your head, why don’t you ask him all the silly questions you want, I have to use the restroom.

Endeavor leans against his desk, arms crossed allowing his muscles to bulge through his white button-up shirt. “Yagi tells me a lot of good things about you.” Endeavor stands straighter, a ballpoint pen in hand before he gestures for you to take a seat. You settle in the seat glancing towards the door before looking up at Endeavor who settles on his desk. “What’s the matter, you seem nervous?” The deepness of his tone sends a shiver down your spine. Shifting your legs closer together you clear your throat, “I’m just not used to meeting my childhood hero in person.” Endeavor laughs in a way that sounds more like a bellow, “When you say it like that I feel old!”

Your face hadn’t stopped burning since you entered the room but the joke forced a chuckle through your lips allowing you to relax just a little bit. Calculating eyes narrow, making you feel even smaller than you already did in the hero’s presence. “Now, come on. I’m sure you have something you’d always wanted to do if you met your hero.” Endeavor’s happy-go-lucky attitude catches you off guard as it juxtaposes the hardened persona he had cultivated over the years. “Well, I suppose a picture would be a start if you don’t mind?”

Seconds later you somehow find yourself in Endeavor's lap as he holds the camera up for a picture. His body is unpainted hot but you assume that was simply just a side effect of his quirk. “Um, are you sure you’re okay with this?” Endeavor hums in acceptance. A heavy arm loops around your waist pulling you closer, close enough to become aware of a problem pressed gently against your ass. “Oh!” Endeavor’s fingers slipped pressing the capture button, “What’s wrong did I do it wrong?” You shake your head becoming embarrassed for the both of you, “Nothing!” Enji’s voice lowers into a mumble that reverberated against the back of your neck, “Good.”

Enji straightens his arm once more to retake the picture and you awkwardly smile into the camera, grin becoming strained when he had yet to snap the photo. You shuffle the slightest bit to get a more comfortable position and a guttural groan is released from Enji’s lips. "Are you alright, Endeavor?" Your question is ignored and your phone is put down on the table. Large hands contrasting unbridled power is your stomach delicately as though you were made of porcelain. "Are you sure there is nothing else you'd like to do with your hero?"

Endeavors face nudges away your braids allowing him to press his heated mouth against your skin. "Nothing that would help you get to know them better?" You don't get to respond, your body is hoisted around to face Endeavor. Why nervousness clearly painting itself on your features before being overcome with confused pleasure as Endeavor pressed his lips against your own.

You moan against his lips, hips grinding against each other, the thought of where you are slipped past your mind and to your pussy. Endeavors hands down your body, pinching and pulling before sighing with his calloused fingernails. You couldn't believe this was happening, you feel your pants being pulled off. Just yesterday you believed that you would only be able to meet your hero in passing. Your bra is on the floor and your pussy weeps against his slacks.

The motions are fast-paced and you feel his thumb pressing against your clit. “Yes!” Endeavor kisses your lips, his stubble scratching your cheeks slightly as his tongue explores your mouth. Confidence floods your body as you hop off of Endeavor's lap and quickly undo the buttons of his slacks, he watches you out of breath in the best way.

Thick in your hands, the veins twitch to the tune of his blood. The clear stickiness of pre-cum coats the underside and you use it to stroke his length. "Please fuck me Endeavor!" You look up at him, face contorted with desperate thoughts as you angle your body towards his cock, the tip of it rubbing against your folds. You were wet, so wet making the fuchsia tip of his cock feel more engorged.

"Don't regret this. "You’re pulled back into his lap with ease, pussy trembling from the display of strength. With Endeavor holding your weight and your hand positioning his length below you, the slide down was easy as it could be. Your legs wrap around his waist as you adjust to him. “We have to be quick.” Endeavor rolls your hips when your breathing becomes even again, “We have all the time in the world.” You smirk trailing your finger up Enji’s chest, “What, you have a thing for getting caught?”

Your cheeks are spread apart by Endeavor’s fingers as he hooks one into the small slit left remaining in your pussy. “Something like that.” From behind you the sound of the door shutting makes your neck quickly craned around to look back. Standing with his arms behind his back and an unreadable expression stood Yagi, “Am I missing the party?” Ashamed excuses leave your mouth, tearful and panicked you squeal when Endeavor raises your hips before sliding you down his cock. “No, you are just in time.”

Yagi slowly removes the suit he wore, shrugging off his suit jacket as the sound of your muffled whimpers filter through his ears. You hide your face, curling into Endeavor’s form but a hand stops you, gripping your face, “Don’t be shy, it was his idea after all.” AllMight chuckled, “Yeah, it took a lot of convincing on my part.”Long fingers wrapped around the base of your skull where your braids connect before yanking your head back.

Toshinori looked down at you, face stoic and mockingly disappointed, "I thought it would take a lot more convincing but look at you. " Yagi dragged the back of his hand around your jaw and down your chest ripping the fabric with ease. Your tits bounced on every thrust that Endeavor continued to make, wordless moans and drool leaving your moan as your pussy clenched around the cock inside you.

"Such a little whore for him aren't you?" You shake your head in protest before your eyes widen as chapped but soft lips are placed over yours. He was kissing you, your brain short circuits as his tongue forces its way past your lips. It's wrong, you know that. Hell, this whole situation is wrong. You should be downstairs with the others doing orientation, not upstairs riding the cock of a pro-hero and french kissing the other. You knew it was wrong, but why did it feel so good?

Endeavor groans at how sloppy you were becoming. The sound of your pussy squelching as cream gathered around Endeavor's cock before being pushed back inside of you. "So both of you are twisted in the head." A large thumb presses down on your clit making your pussy spasm as you cum from the heightened stimulation. Endeavor keeps thrusting, his libido unmatched and energy pent up.

Yagi reaches in between the two of you pressing his palm against your pussy as his fingertips graze Enji’s dick on every upstroke. “Are you getting wetter sweetheart? He feels so good doesn't he?" Your mouth is agape and your weak hands Endeavor's shoulder is the only thing keeping you upright when your eyes roll back. "Y-Yes daddy!" Yagi wheezes before he's fiddling with his suit pants and pulling you back by your hair.

It was a strange display of balance on your end. Endeavor’s arms hold your legs tightly in order to keep you on his lap and on his cock meanwhile you are as your father slaps his hardened cock against your cheek, splashing his precum onto your chin. "I got you this far dear, why don't you return the favor?"

Whether it was diluted senses or your subconscious coming forward, you open your mouth for him, moaning as he invades every crevice of your jaw. Your throat constricts and you retch around the warm heat. Yagi is unapologetic and downright brutal as he pulls back before bringing his hips forward again.

The two men's moans empty into the office room and your garbled cooking is ignored as they both have their fill, leaving you to wonder if this really was for you. Numbness invaded your senses as you come again on Endeavor's cock with him not that far behind as he blows his load into your pussy. "It's been a while I will admit." Endeavor slaps your pussy once, then twice just to feel you squeeze down on him every time your hips jerked.

Tears and drool running down your face the faster your father fucks your throat and you knew you'd be sore the next day. "My turn." All Might pulls out and walks away not even showing you a glance as you choke from the lack of oxygen. Enji helps you sit up and wipes your face before Toshinori is pulling you away from Endeavor showing no care that his cock was still in you. He sits down and pulls you onto his own lap ignoring your dazed look as your brain struggles with the various changes of attitude.

"You gotta thank daddy for helping you meet your hero, don't you think?” His hand cups your round cheeks before the other slams down on the other one. Overestimated tears tremble down your brown skin as you hiccup, "Yes daddy." You rock against his cock, both your saliva and his own precum staining your stomach and public hair.

He fills you, even better than Endeavor did, and begins his onslaught of thrusts. You scream, the sound no doubt traveling outside the room, "Daddy please fuck me!!!" The speed at which you were moving was one that could only be done by a hero and it was more pain than pleasure. The constant pounding of your cervix makes your teeth clench together each time his mushroom head punches it.

"Yes, give daddy this sloppy pussy, squeeze down for me-oh fuck!" Lewd words you never even believed Yagi was capable of saying leave his lips. Your shoulder is bit by the redheaded man behind you as he cups your breasts together, tugging on your nipple before rubbing the nubbed patterns on your areolas. "I can't take it any more daddy please!" Your arms wrap around his shoulders as he causes your pussy to queen and cream, balls slapping the underside of your ass, sticky with Endeavor’s cum.

"This is what you raised Yagi? A little whore?" Yagi chuckles, "I'm just as surprised as you are Enji, say why don't you join? You aren't one and done are you?" Endeavor scoffs, you wish that upon me don't you?"

Your mind, altered with lust, does not understand the hidden meaning behind the word "join" but you soon realize it when fat fingers are pushing their way in the same hole Toshinori occupied. "E-Endeavor?" You're shushed as his fingers pump inside you with Yagi’s cock, curling and prodding your walls at every turn. You feel fuller than you ever thought you could and the pressure only continued.

"Look at my pretty little girl taking her daddy's cock, so fucking tight for me. Can you do this for Endeavor too? Fit both our fat cocks in your hero guzzling hole?" You nod at the degradation and feel the warmth from Endeavor envelope your back. His tip massages the stretched opening as Yagi stops thrusting for a moment.

There is silence, and then there is pain. You hardly feel the initial penetration of Enji’s cock, but you do feel it when Yagi tries to move again. You can hardly breathe between the sandwich the 3 of you created and your comfort is practically ignored as they both begin to move at opposite tempos. “O-oh god!” With your eyes screwed shut and mouth agape the two men grunt against your ears.

Your g-spot and cervix are both pushed against as their thrusts become more impersonal. Endeavor grabs your arms from around Yagi’s neck before pulling them behind your back. Your legs tremble uselessly around Toshinori’s thighs. His breath huffing the more he exerted himself steam easily slipping from his lips the faster he went. “I’m gonna cum!” Endeavor grunts, pistoning out of you even faster than he was before. A hand rests on his shoulder and he’s shoved back making you whimper from the partial emptiness. “Not inside bastard.”

Yagi becomes his gental self again as his still hard cock slips from your entrance. He places you on the ground giving you time to prop yourself up before grabiing his dick and stroking it infront of your face. You are to fucked out to do anything but present yourself as a pretty little canvas as his cum paints your face. You lick the small drops painting your chin before flashing a coy smile, “Thank you Daddy!”

#tw: inc*st #endeavor smut #all might smut #endeavor x all might x reader #mha smut #problimatic works #mha x black reader

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arya-skywalker · 3 years

Text

A New Point of View (Encanto fanfic)

Summary: Bruno knows that the village hates him, even as a teenager. He tries going into town as Hernando, hoping that putting on a persona would help him cope with facing the villagers. Somehow he ends up with a new friend.

Notes: This is my first Encanto fic. I’m testing the waters a bit here, so if you enjoy it please let me know! Depending on how well it does (and if my muse cooperates), I might write a sequel.

Also a quick note on Bruno’s room: I’m going with the theory that his room changed as he grew. At this point in time, it’s about half the size as it was in the movie; so still a lot of stairs but not an insane amount. It’s in better condition overall, but still not great.

AO3 link

——

“Okay, so, you know how the town hates me, yeah? And well I don’t exactly do well under pressure, and having a whole town hate me is kinda a lot of pressure—“

“Bruno, where are you going with this?” Julieta pressed.

Bruno held up a finger. “I was getting there! What if I didn’t need to be me? I like acting, acting is fun, so if I pretend to be someone else— someone braver, someone less, well, me— then that kills two birds with one stone!” He grinned at his sisters. “It’s genius! I know this will work!”

Unfortunately they looked less than convinced. A cloud formed above Pepa’s head.

“Bruno, you don’t need to pretend to be someone else,” Julieta said, hand on his shoulder. “Either they’ll accept you, or they won’t. Ignore those who don’t; they aren’t worth your time.”

Bruno shook his head. “No, no, it’s not about them accepting me, it’s about me not cracking under the pressure. I know they don’t accept me, and I can’t change that anytime soon.”

Julieta frowned. “Bruno—“

“Oh, and Pepa! You can help by making a storm to add to the whole effect!”

The cloud above Pepa’s head darkened and thunder boomed. Bruno grinned and gave two thumbs up. “Perfect!”

Julieta frowned. “Brunito, I don’t think she’s doing that for you.”

Pepa fiddled with her braid, the storm growing. “This isn’t going to work. What if it only makes things worse? What if they hurt you?”

Bruno shrugged. “Julieta always keeps some healing food around, I’ll be fine!”

“Just because I can heal doesn’t mean you should throw yourself into dangerous situations.”

Pepa scowled, a flash of lightning above her head. “You’re not going to listen are you?”

“Nope! I’m doing this before you can talk me out of it,” Bruno said, taking a step back. “So…”

“Ay, dios mío….” Julieta rubbed her brow, then sighed. “Take an arepa.”

“Thanks!” Bruno grinned and grabbed an arepa from her tray. “Pepa, don’t ‘clear skies’ the storm away just yet, okay? It’s good for you to storm every once in a while anyway. Let it all out.”

Pepa crossed her arms, glaring at him. The storm grew. Not to dangerous levels, yet, but by now the town was cloaked in dark clouds.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me….” Bruno stuffed the arepa into a pocket and walked away. Neither sister stopped him, but he could feel their worried gazes on his back.

Once he was out of their sight, he quickly knocked on some wooden timbers that he passed. “Knock, knock, knock. Knock on wood.” Bruno tapped his head, then flicked his hood up and took a deep breath.

Showtime! He walked towards the center of town, head held high and doing his best to ignore the looks thrown his way. He climbed on top of a crate and held out his arms. “Come and see your future!” he announced in Hernando’s deeper voice.

Most people turned away with hushed whispers. A mother shooed her children away from him. Not the reaction he had been hoping for, but no worse than usual. It wouldn’t bother Hernando, so he kept his face as stoic as possible.

“Follow me to the sands of time,” Hernando continued, gesturing for emphasis. “You must climb to the tallest peak and face the scorching desert!”

Eventually, just when he was starting to lose steam, someone moved closer, seeming actually interested. Hernando pointed to him. “You, sir, are you brave enough to face the future?”

The man took another step closer, standing tall. “Show me what to do,” he said.

“Excellent!” Hernando steepled his fingers, then hopped off the crate. “Before we start, I’ll need your name.”

“Ramiro,” he replied with a bow.

“Ramiro, follow me.” He swirled his ruana and headed in the direction of casita.

This… wasn’t a complete disaster. Maybe it would work after all. Depending entirely on whatever the vision ended up being. Bruno took a deep breath and crossed his fingers under his ruana.

The storm was starting to fade, seeing as if hadn’t gone horribly wrong, yet. Hernando wouldn’t be worried.

They reached casita without issue. Everyone was supposed to be in town, so there wasn’t much risk. Even if someone was home, it wasn’t too rare of a sight for him to bring someone to his room for a vision. Bruno led his guest up to his doorway, pausing for a moment to let him look at the glowing door. Some people found it intimidating.

Then he opened the door to his room with a flourish. “Your future awaits,” he said. “You must climb to the top, alone.”

“Alone? What about you?”

Hernando smirked. “I have my own ways,” he said. “See you on the other side.”

Ramiro stared at him for a moment, then shrugged and walked to the stairs. Bruno waited until he was a decent way up, then tapped on the rock wall to open his own passage.

A narrow passage, just wide enough for a single person to walk through. At the end of the passage was a tower without stairs. In place of the stairs was a rope on a pulley, with a large bucket attached to each side, and two levers on the floor. The bucket on the right was was at the bottom, filled with sand. Bruno lowered his hood and walked over to that one, tipping it on its side to let the sand empty.

While the sand emptied, he moved over to the lever on the left and pulled it to the open position. Sand started to fall from the ceiling into the bucket closer to the top.

Bruno walked back over to the first bucket and climbed in, pushing it right side up and scooping the remaining sand out with his hands. He knocked on the wooden paneling inside the bucket, mumbling, “Knock, knock, knock. Knock on wood,” and ended by lightly tapping the top of his head. He held his breath and waited for the bucket to rise.

Upon reaching the top, he stood and swung over to the ledge, grabbing onto another rope once he was close enough and carefully climbing out.

No problems so far. Bruno knocked on a wooden board along the wall as he walked down another passage. “Knock, knock, knock. Knock on wood.” At the end of the passage, he waited a moment, listening for footsteps in case Ramiro had somehow made it up before him. Convinced he was alone, Bruno pressed on an engraving in the wall, opening another hidden door which led to the statue hallway.

“Okay, step one done,” Bruno muttered to himself. “Getting to the top.” He brushed some sand off himself and looked around. He still had time before his guest arrived. Time enough to prepare the ritual and get a better handle on his nerves.

Bruno tossed some salt over his shoulder, then entered the vision cave and started setting up the piles of sand with leaves and twigs. One big pile in the center, four smaller ones around it. Gilded matchbox on his side of the center pile. The sand ring would need to wait until his guest was here. Speaking of…

Bruno flipped his hood back up and went to peak over the edge to check on Ramiro’s progress. More than halfway up. “You’re almost there,” he called down in Hernando’s voice.

Ramiro glanced up and did a double take. “How’d you get up there?”

“Magic,” he said with some dramatic hand motions.

“Hmph. Whatever you say.”

Bruno ducked back into the vision cave, throwing more salt over his shoulder. Luckily the salt blended in with the sand for the most part so he didn’t need to worry about cleaning it up.

“You’ve done this before, you can do this,” he muttered to himself, sitting cross-legged on the floor and crossing his fingers. “Deep breaths. And hope for a good vision. Please be a good vision.” He tossed some sugar over his shoulder, then focused on his breathing, listening for footsteps.

Some time later, he heard the footsteps approaching. He fixed his hood and cleared his throat. “Enter,” he called in Hernando’s deeper voice.

Ramiro stepped inside the vision cave. “Did I pass the test?” he asked with a half-smile, clearly winded.

Test? What test? What’d I do? Bruno faltered for a moment, grateful that the hood obscured most of his expression. Oh, right the stairs. “Yes, you passed. Congratulations.”

“Alright. What comes next?”

Bruno hesitated. “Will you be inside the circle or out?”

Ramiro cocked his head to the side. “What’s the difference?”

“Inside, you will see the vision in all its glory. Outside, you will only receive my interpretation and the vision tablet.”

“If it’s an option, I’d like to see.”

Bruno inwardly groaned. He wouldn’t be able to keep up the Hernando persona without his hood up— and the chaos of a vision would make it even more difficult to remain poised. He could backtrack, make up some risk to being inside…. But it felt too late for that.

“Inside, you will see what I see. Some visions are not meant for mortal gaze.”

Ramiro shrugged. “I’ll take my chances. We’ve come this far.”

Bruno stood and picked up the jar of sand. “Sit there,” Hernando said, pointing across the central pile.

Ramiro took a seat as instructed. Bruno walked around the piles, letting the sand fall in a neat circle, far enough from the center to give them room to stand if need be. Once the circle was finished, Bruno sat across from Ramiro and took a match from the gilded box.

“Have you seen a vision from outside the dome before?”

Ramiro shook his head. “Only the vision tablets. I’ve heard stories.”

Bruno chuckled, a bit nervously. “Well, you’re in for a show. Don’t touch the moving sand, and stay as still as you can.”

Without waiting for his response, Bruno lit the central fire, then took a stick and lit the smallest surrounding fires. The wind started to swirl around them, picking up the sand and forming a swirling dome. He cracked his knuckles and took another deep breath, closing his eyes briefly before throwing off his hood and opening his eyes.

The green glow pulsed and swirled. Distantly, Bruno was aware of Ramiro startling, but when in vision-mode anything not glowing was dimmed and blurred. Bruno searched for shapes in the green bursts, honing in on what the vision was trying to tell him.

“You’re… uh… on the stage! Yes! You’re the lead in a new play, and it’s your best performance yet! Everyone is cheering and throwing flowers and applauding!”

Oh thank god it’s a good one, I should stop it here— He moved to end the vision.

“That’s great! But—“ Ramiro put a hand on his arm and pointed. “But what’s that?”

Bruno frowned and squinted, trying to aim his glowing gaze in the direction the stranger wanted. It was always difficult to control the visions. His stomach sank at the sight.

“There’s a fire, a fire in the theater,” he said hollowly. “I’m sorry, I—“

“Can you see what causes it?”

Bruno winced. The vision wanted to end. He wanted the vision to end. But he couldn’t, not yet. He took a deep breath and stared at the little green flame, willing it to show him more.

“A…. Candle. There’s a candle. Someone dropped a candle! Or it fell over. The curtains caught aflame and… and….” Pain. His head was screaming. He couldn’t push it any further.

“Hey, hey, breathe. That’s enough,” Ramiro said. “Thank you.”

Thank you? Bruno blinked. The sands slowed and formed into the vision tablet. His eyes stopped glowing.

The vision tablet showed Ramiro on stage in front of a large audience. At a quick glance, it still looked like a positive vision. But in the corner was the candle on its side, the curtains starting to catch fire.

Bruno handled the vision tablet over. “I-I can’t control the future, only glimpse into it. I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Ramiro asked, looking genuinely confused.

Bruno frowned, rubbing his arm. “The… the fire? That’s not a good thing?”

“You said yourself you don’t make the things happen. You gave me a warning, and now we can prepare.”

“Oh.” Bruno blinked, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that this person wasn’t screaming at him for bringing doom.

Ramiro smiled. “You don’t get into theater without learning a thing or two about seers. Ever heard about Cassandra?”

Bruno shook his head, eyes wide.

“Cassandra was a seer from Greek myths who saw the future, but no one believed her. If you stop by the theater I can lend you a script or two.”

“Oh, uh, sure? I mean, yes! Yes, I’d love to,” Bruno said, a tentative smile tugging at his lips.

“Great! I’ll see you there,” Ramiro said, smiling back as he stood. “And if you’re interested, you’re welcome to audition for a part. You certainly have a flair for the dramatic.” He offered a hand.

Bruno stared at him, at the offered hand, still processing what was happening. He took Ramiro’s hand and stood. “Thanks, yeah.”

Ramiro patted him lightly on the back. “Good on you!” He waved and started back down the stairs.

It actually worked. For once someone didn’t hate him for his visions!

Bruno watched Ramiro until he was out of sight, then lay back on the sand. He took the cold crumpled arepa out of his pocket and nibbled on it to chase away his lingering headache. For now, he needed to rest. Then he’d share the good news with his sisters.

#aryaskywalker writes #encanto #encanto fanfic #bruno madrigal #pepa madrigal #julieta madrigal

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namelesswolffreak · 3 years

Text

"Boyfriends"

I've been working on this story concept for....3-4 years now and I've finally managed to work everything out to the point I'm confident in posting this little blurb of the main characters. So, I hope you enjoy and feel free to ask questions about them and their world.

Context: This takes place in a world of super powered people heavily inspired by MHA / Marvel / Miraculous. Waker (Way-kur) Atlas is Dare City's main hero who is put through quite a lot on a daily to weekly basis trying to beat the baddies and Cyrus Fauthrin is his infamous thief arch nemesis turned lover and best friend who causes trouble around the city just to get the Hero's attention.

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

The melancholy of the day was waning on Waker as he patrolled the quiet streets of one of Dare’s many neighborhoods which was quite unusual considering every seven seconds a villain was after his head. The sun was barely above the clouds, no one was really awake yet and the only thing that accompanied him was his footsteps as he jumped, hopped and skipped to the next platform he summoned under his feet. He happened to be bounding over Lay Wind Park, the foxes fast asleep in their dens to his disappointment, but the Hero Monuments were still a sight to behold in the early sunrise as they shone with brilliance in what little light was filtering over the surrounding hillsides.

The wind blew past his frizzed locks as he stood above the park near a tree in the shade, expression steeled and focused as he watched for signs of trouble as he waited for a certain someone to arrive. Today was uneventful and rather slow, the kind of day Waker preferred if he were being honest. Heaven knew being bored all day was ten times better than returning home to the countless kitchen sink surgeries he’d have to do with worn needles and his mother’s thread pinching into his skin as he sewed up bloodied wounds full of shrapnel and debris. Much better. The birds were chirping a happy, lazy song as they flew by on the breeze and the distant hum of an awakening city filled the natural ambiance of cicadas and crickets quite nicely as he watched and waited. He dare let out a sigh as the scene took hold of him fully, a warmth washing over him that he hadn’t felt in the recent weeks.

Which wouldn’t be for long as the rustling of tree leaves and a “Boo!” have him falling off of his platforms and hurtling towards the ground with an embarrassingly shrill scream.

“Waker!” A concerned voice follows as a blue blur dives after him.

Ground spiraling as he falls, Waker braces for impact, too late to conjure any platforms beneath him to break the fall so, he readies himself, waiting for the hurt and pain that would surely follow with some scrapes and bruises…………...But it never comes. He unscrunches his eyes and removes his arms from his head to see a blue, sparkling light surrounding him.

Irritation and embarrassment take over him immediately.

His face turns a copious amount of red as he’s carefully scooped up in pale arms that hold him close and, humiliatingly enough, in bridal style. Oh god no, he curses mentally, murmuring a soft “No…” into his shield of arms. This was so not how he wanted to show up in front of his partner after their long and grueling few weeks of not being able to see each other outside of villain fights and breaks in between their testing week.

The sudden warmth of a chest presses against his side and the delicate rhythm of a frantic heart race beneath his one hand as the other quickly grabs for his cape to hide his strawberry cheeks. There was no way in hell he was letting ‘he knew who’ see him in such a state, there was no possible way he could let the witch-like thief catch him like this. A brave hero didn’t get scared or spooked by rustling leaves and the word boo! Absolutely absurd! Though a voice in the back of his mind said he already had.

“You are such a fucking clutz, I swear.” And a huge scaredy cat, the blue-clad ravenette doesn’t say aloud, but his tone implies anyways. “I should take you to my ballet classes sometime, maybe then you’d actually learn some balance.” The comment only makes him clutch the soft fabric tighter around himself.

He’s loathing the thought of unveiling himself now, but he knows he’s been caught, his normally stoic or serious persona now broken and practically burned away as he knows his cape isn’t doing much to hide his warm face or the tenseness of his grip. Plans to forever sink himself into a hole where nobody could possibly ever find him again after this mess are shortly abandoned for now and gaining courage Waker swallows the huge lump in his throat and tries to cleverly reply. “H-hey, what’s a-....What’s up, Witch Boy?” And he knows the intended playfulness doesn’t go through as he’s met with a narrowed glare.

The other isn’t amused. “Witch boy, really? Did I actually scare you that badly that you lost a couple of brain cells?”

“Shu-shut up, Cyrus!” He defends as this “Cyrus” just sighs at him, though his stare more sly than pointed now.

“Get out of that stupid thing so I can see your face.” He says with a tremble in his voice that Waker can definitely tell is laughter, the prick. “Or I’ll totally drop you again.” And like hell he will, Waker knows, but he takes the threat seriously nonetheless and loosens his grip on the cape just enough to see the Ravenette’s brilliant and ever playful smile.

For a moment Waker just stares and admires him, those brilliant blues sparkling, no, literally sparkling as he says something Waker doesn’t catch. The sun is framing his face so perfectly in the light, highlighting those perfectly red cheeks he would love to kiss every morning, and the slight upturn of his lips as he smiles down in reverence at him, and the slow flutter of his lashes that compliment his features nicely. Though braided off to the side Cyru’s hair never fails to make him look so ethereal as the gentle morning breeze brushes back his loose strands. Waker swears it looks like its made up of space itself when he lets it go during the night time, convincing himself he can see stars within the strands when he stands beneath the moonlight. It doesn’t take much to make the hero swoon regarding his partner nowadays. Daydreams of peaceful nights alone on the couch watching movies together after his nightmares keep him awake and alert run through his mind, or the times Cyrus has saved him from getting beaten to a pulp and they spent hours talking over stitching him back together about nothing at all, and every single time Cyrus has stuck up for him at school, reminding him of the warmth this person carries with them and all the love and affection he’s constantly showered in when they’re together. It’s strange how much Cyrus has changed over the past few months from raging emo to ride or die friend, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. He doesn’t even try to stop the lofty sigh that escapes his lips as more dear memories cross his mind.

And Cyrus is all too quick to recognize that dumb look on his face.

“Oh, hell no!” Is the only warning he gets before being promptly dropped, this time no blue aura to save him from hitting the dirt below, landing with a thud. “Not this early in the morning!” Though Waker could have sworn Cyrus was sharing the same look with him not minutes prior.

“Ow! Why’d you drop me, asshole!?”

Cyrus cocks his hips as he floats there, his wide brimmed conical now covering his eyes in an intimidating manner, making him way more menacing than he should considering his current attire. “Oh please, don’t even act like you’re hiding that stupid look on your face, Idiot! I ain’t dealing with your whole sappy dappy act this early in the morning.”

By “sappy dappy” Waker knows exactly what he’s referring to and scowls accordingly. Apparently, holding hands and having morning cuddles while complimenting everything about Cyrus is considered sappy and lovingly disgusting. Well at least to some people, it’s called affection and admiration!

“It’s a look that means I like you, asswipe!” Waker shoots back, malice nowhere to be found in his tone though, barring more on playfulness.

“Do you think I’m in love with you or something!?”

And they then stand there -well float there- in silence, both looking each other in the eyes, narrowed brows testing the other to make the next move or say the next snappy comment. And for a moment it looks as if the words really have cut too deep, but Waker isn’t one to remain serious for long as his shoulders begin to shake, prompting the other to clutch his stomach and stifle a grin as their eyes water over with laughter.

“Oh, no, not me, I could never.” Waker quips, leaning back and hugging both his arms, not caring for the dirt now caking his suit. Cyrus is quick to come back with his own natural snark.

“Pfft, as if! Absolutely not. Me and you, the orange haired frizz ball who kicks my ass more than twice a week over that one time I stole a candy bar? You gotta be fucking with me!” He bellows, Waker taking note of the boy flipping upside down where he floats in the air, his face a contortion of joy and happiness as his ripped dress flows with the wind.

He finds the display rather adorable, recalling that such a thing only occurred by accident when the thief was getting emotional. His inept ability to control his powers never failed to amuse the Hero. The little wrinkle of his nose didn’t quiet his thoughtful admiration either as he blushed in between bouts of giggles.

"I wouldn't have time to be your lover anyways!"

“It’s only 6am, when can I admire my boyfriend so it fits within your busy schedule?”

And the laughter is immediately quieted, a heavy silence filling the air, even the crickets and cicadas falling victim to it. The world is waiting in bated breath as if listening to the drama unfold.

Waker holds in a breath. Oh shit, oh fuck, he really fucked it up this time! Way to go, Atlas, you really did a number on today!

…………

………….

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I just did-”

“It’s ok……” Cyrus breaths out, taking a long drag of air before finally finishing. “It’s….ok.” He manages to lower himself to the ground, dress falling at his sides, and crosses his arms in doing so. “We’re-I’m going to have to get used to it eventually.” He shrugs. “Right?”

There’s a weight to his words as Cyrus steps closer to the redhead that Waker recognizes near immediately. They’ve had this talk before, a talk that has led to a misunderstanding or two between them in the past and a verbal fight at that. The term “Boyfriend.” It was a touchy subject to say the least and while it had been a challenge for even Waker himself to start using it, it also seemed Cyrus was struggling to accept the lofty title. A long time ago before the two even met, the word had a different meaning to it for them both, but Waker had long since come to terms with it himself, but understood Cyrus’ hesitation in saying the word freely. He considered his next words carefully.

“I know you don’t exactly like the ter-”

“It’s not that I don’t like it Waker…..”

“I know, Cy, but.” Failing to put his thoughts into words Waker scrambles forward to catch Cyrus’ hands in his own, pecking each delicately, square on the knuckles, gauging his reaction whilst he does so. When Waker is met with a soft smile, he returns it, though his much softer and kinder in Cyrus’ eyes. “I shouldn’t have said it when you’re not ready. Just because I moved past it doesn’t mean you have.” Noticing his smile slipping he clumsily adds in, “And that’s ok! Really, it’s ok and I mean, and I love you and-uh, I get it and I mean I just say boyfriend because that’s what everyone else says, expects- wait no- I didn’t mean to phrase it like that uh-I don’t really get the need for a title for what we have anyways, like so dumb right!?”

Followed by more ridiculous rambling that has Cyrus covering his mouth trying not to giggle. It’s a nervous habit that has come to amuse the thief to no end. “And-it not like it means anything to us, its just there for other people so they know that um, we, us, you and I are an um item I guess wow that was cheesy and dumb and I am so sorry that you have to put up with me oh god I’m rambling and no, don’t look at me like that. I’m doing the thing again aren’t I-” Shaking with laughter again Cyrus has to put a hand on his shoulder to get him to shut up because he knows if he doesn’t Waker could go on well into the night and has before. It didn’t help that he could feel the tremble of the others fingers, realizing Waker was going to throw himself into an anxiety attack if he didn’t.

“Waker!” And Waker promptly closes his mouth, panic clear in his eyes that Cyrus quickly combats by brushing strands of orange out of his face and behind his ear. “Just take a deep breath.” And Waker does, following the instruction intently. “And let it out, slowly.” And Waker follows that too, looking that much calmer as Cyrus pulls him closer. “Slowly.” He rubs his thumbs over Waker’s hands. The trembling is still present, but less so. “There you go.” And doesn’t stop telling him to breath calmly until he feels Waker’s grip relax in his own.

Delicately and softly, each flyaway is combed back into place only to immediately pop out again, but Waker appreciates the sentiment anyways and Cyrus has no problem being given an excuse to keep combing through such lovely soft tufts. He loves the soft mane of fluff on his partner’s head that even since their first meeting has remained as untamed and wild as ever. -Such a shame he always ties it back when he’s on duty though- It just adds to the contrast between his actual self and hero persona, the sweet and endearing ball of anxiety vs the serious and battle ready hero of Dare city who couldn’t catch a break. And he wouldn’t be ashamed to admit to which one he preferred.

“You don’t need to tell me-er.” Waker quickly corrects, trying not to sound patronizing. “I don’t need you to explain yourself Cy. You-we don’t need to have a name if that’s what you want, that’s what I’m trying to say. Official or unofficial or whatever, I won’t treat you any different.”

“I know Waker. I…..I really want to call you that, just I-.......I just like what we have right now and-”

Waker just pecks him on the cheek quickly and pulls away to pat at a spot on the ground, looking longingly back up at him. A soundless “You don’t want to lose me.” goes unsaid as Cyrus complies, Waker taking the shorter one in his arms once more.

It wasn’t a matter of Cyrus being afraid to commit, though maybe it was, not even he was sure of what was going with himself anymore, but a fear that the wonderful friendship he’d built up with the hero would end or change or just not be the way it is now because they suddenly started calling each other boyfriends. He’s had it happen one too many times at this point, every one of his previous “boyfriends” changing everything once they started dating, acting as if kissing and romantic outings were supposed to be their only interactions from now on. They were no longer interested in the random silly things he found on the internet or just hanging out doing whatever, but were interested in using him, his body, parading him around and rubbing it in peoples faces, being denied having fun if it wasn’t their idea of “fun” and more. Cyrus' stomach curls remembering being ignored for weeks to months at a time because he wasn’t feeling up to being in bed with them or awkwardly sitting off to the side while his one boyfriend at the time showed him off to his friends and bragged. It was the same guy who he used to play videogames and eat cookies with on the weekends, talking about anything and everything…...It hurts him to realise there probably was never a friendship there to begin with. Just an elaborate ruse to get him into bed at some point.

And that was one thing Cyrus feared when they had held hands for the first time after awkwardly admitting to harboring feelings for each other after the high of a fight they were forced to join sides on. Never had the thief felt more relieved that his feelings were reciprocated, but also more scared that he had just ruined the one healthy relationship he managed to make in those many months spent together.

Cyrus removes his hat and huddles under Waker’s chin, placing his head right on his heart that gives out a steady, comforting rhythm and brightens when the taller of the two puts his head on him in return. No, Cyrus thinks, this is different.

A long silence falls between them as they cuddle in each other's arms, just watching the sun come up. Basking in each other’s presence, taking in the warmth of their bodies pressed together in this nice early morning, and relishing in the calm which was far and few in between with their double lives and they were thankful. There’s no need to exchange words now as a quiet understanding befalls them both.

It’s only after the sun seems to peak at the crest of the hillsides does Waker make himself heard again.

“Is that why you dropped me?” And Cyrus blinks for a quick second, processing the question before understanding and then playfulness cross his expression.

“No it’s because you’re a dunce.” He huffs. “And fucking heavy as hell.”

Waker chooses to ignore that last bit. “But I’m your dunce.” He boops his nose.

“Damn, straight you are.” And Cyrus retaliates with a kiss on his.

Boyfriend or just “friend who I like to kiss and hold hands with sometimes”, Waker loves him and Cyrus doesn’t doubt that for a second.

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sombreboy · 4 years

Text

uhgood⇢dom!knj x male reader

I get so hungry, when you say you love me. - Ke$ha, cannibal

⇢18+ ⇢pairing: Namjoon x male reader ⇢genre: pwp smut ⇢word count: 2.9k ⇢warnings: smut, daddykink, babyboy/good boy kink, knj calls you puppy fuckkk yes, praise kink cuz it’s me what’d you expect, anal fingering, spitting, degrading dirty talk, dom/sub play, BDSM themes/shibari, creampie in the ass thats right the good stuff, sounding(cock stuffing/urethral penetration)⇠pls don’t do this without research.

Request by anon: could i request knj x male reader where the reader teases Joon all day and once they’re home he goes hardcore dom on the reader (this is so cliche but as a male reader i am starving) maybe sprinkling in some bdsm and a daddy kink🤲🏽 A/N: I might’ve not gone as hardcore as I initially planned but I kind of love it anyway and it’s my first male reader smut that I’ve written myself and please praise me for doing well ♡ I hope you love it anon.

Namjoon was fuming, you could easily tell.

The two of you had been out running errands, hung out with friends, and throughout the entire day you’d been the biggest fucking brat that Namjoon had ever seen you be, constantly teasing him in various ways. From light touches on his thigh, to deliberately brushing your ass against his crotch in a crowd, to even the less subtle way you ate that god damn cursed popsicle like it was Joon’s cock itself drove your boyfriend closer and closer to madness.

Yeah, Namjoon was fuming. His nostrils were flaring, and his entire body was aching to put you back in your place.

And you? You were thriving, loving how worked up your boyfriend was because of you, hoping this would be enough to drive him over the edge to play with you until you physically couldn’t handle it anymore.

Namjoon was generally a slightly awkward, dimpled sweetheart that wouldn’t even smack a mosquito if he saw one, and your heart was incredibly soft for him in every way possible. But behind closed doors, he was a different man entirely.. His sadistic, dominant persona drowned every piece of your loving boyfriend the second you heard the lock of the front door echo in the hallway.

You yelped when you suddenly felt your entire body being shoved back against the wall, Joon towering over you with one strong hand grasping around your jaw to force you to look at him. His eyes were serious, gracing you with an intense, icy glare, the shape resembling that of a dragon.

‘’Tsk, I bet you had so much fun all day teasing me like that, hm?’’ Namjoon hissed, tightening the grip around your jaw to draw a gasp from your lips before he leaned in to kiss you harshly, biting down on your lower lip to make you whine and squirm underneath him. He pulled back with a mocking chuckle, ‘’You have no right to whine, now, babyboy. It’s time for my kind of fun now... that’s what you wanted all along, no?’’

He was right. So, you nodded.

‘’Speak.’’

‘’I want it, I want you to play with me Joonie..’’

‘’Ah ah,’’ Namjoon wiggled a finger in front of your face, his eyes softening for a mere second as his hot breath fanned your face, ‘’When we play, I am not Joonie. I’m not Namjoon. It’s always Daddy.’’ He kissed you softly once, the sweet Namjoon momentarily peeking through his persona, ‘’Ready to play?’’

‘’Yes daddy.’’ You whisper, already feeling your body heat up in mere anticipation.

‘’Good boy.’’ Namjoon pulls back to start walking towards the bedroom, not even looking back to see if you were following. Of course you did. You followed your boyfriend like a puppy, and you would stick to him even if he guided you through the fires of hell itself.

Namjoon headed towards the chest in the bedroom that contained all of his favorite things; toys to use on you, his little puppy.

‘’Get undressed and lay down.’’ He casually ordered as he rummaged through his tools, not telling you which one he’s gonna use today. By the sound of it, there’s gonna be more than one; which meant he was going to take some extra time to use you today.

Namjoon turned on his heels to approach the bed where you were naked on your back, completely exposed and vulnerable for him to see every inch of your, for now, unblemished skin.

‘’I love you.’’ Namjoon says calmly, his stoic expression contrasting the sweet words, ‘’I warned you.’’ he added, merely a whisper flowing through the quiet room as he circled the bed to stand on the side of it. By now, you knew he was fully immersed in his role as your dom.

There were many reasons to love Namjoon, and one of them was his ability to show little to no mercy in the bedroom. Previous lovers were too soft with you, scared of hurting you. But not Joon, no. He knew exactly what he was doing, carefully planning out and executing whatever the fuck he wanted to do to his perfect plaything.

‘’Your cock is already getting hard,’’ Namjoon snickered as he pursed his lips, reaching out to give the tip of your length a flick of his fingers, earning a needy wince from your expression along with a quiet gasp, ‘’Such a slut.’’

‘’Yes, for you..’’ You whisper, placing your hands above your head to look even more deliciously vulnerable for him.

‘’That’s right. You only see me, nobody else.’’ Namjoon states as he placed his tools on the nightstand, grabbing the shibari ropes to get to work. It was one of his favorites, decorating your body with the red material in precious patterns. It was even better than simple nudity in his own opinion. He tied your wrists above your head, securing you to the headboard bars to make sure you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. He proceeded to bend your legs, spread and knees pressed against your stomach as he made sure you were prettily exposed for his eyes, needy erection growing harder as he jerked the ropes to ensure it was tight-- but not too tight.

‘’Color?’’ He glanced at you to make sure.

‘’Green.’’

At your consent, he resumed to take his shirt off, keeping his lower part clothed for the time being. The air in the room grew thicker with the way his eyes were practically devouring your sinful, tied up body.

‘’You’ve wanted my attention all day.’’ He says with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and he reached over for his bottle of lube and a small metal rod. Your cock twitched and eyes widened when you saw the little surgical tool in his hand, knowing just exactly what was coming.

Namjoon sat down on the foot of the bed by your exposed ass, perfectly spread and on display for him. Placing the little metal rod on the bed, he decided to start off easy. He spat on your entrance, using the pad of his finger to circle his saliva around the sensitive rim of your opening.

‘’What a pretty little hole you have, puppy.’’ He cooes, the praise making your heart flutter, about to open your mouth to respond-- but nothing but a whiny moan pushed through your lips as Namjoon lubed up his middle finger only to sink it inside of you. ‘’And so tight too, fuck..’’ He groans, feeling your warm, fleshy insides squeeze his digit, working against him as if trying to push him out. But to no avail, he kept pushing his finger inside until he was knuckle deep. Your breath grew heavier, gasping when he wiggled his finger inside of you before withdrawing far enough to where only his fingernail was engulfed by your warmth. He added a second finger, this time having to apply some more strength to force them all the way inside, another groan vibrating in his chest as he does so. ‘’So tight I can’t believe it, how are you gonna take my cock? Fuck..’’ Namjoon foamed at the mouth at the mere thought, he was eager to stuff you full with his cum already; but his patience and desire to properly drive you mad for him was a much higher priority before then. It’d be a reward to simply let you have his cum.

‘’Please, daddy, just fuck me already.’’ You whined, a hint of attitude in your tone as you looked down at your boyfriend. He raised an eyebrow at you from where he was, gaze squinting slightly in annoyance.

‘’I do whatever the fuck I want. Your body is mine to play with,’’ Namjoon scissored his fingers inside of you once, twice before roughly fucking into you, the squelching sounds rivaling the sudden moans he forced out of your throat, ‘’Or would you prefer for me to just leave you untouched for the night? Hm? Is that what you want?!’’

‘’Ah, fuck! No, daddy--’’ Your voice broke as you jerk your arms within the restraints, ‘’I’m sorry, please keep playing with me!’’

As if he wasn’t already.

Namjoon’s wicked smile grew as he kept his rough pace for a little longer until the glide of his fingers worked in and out of your hole with ease. He prodded deeply, brushing the pad of his fingers against your prostate to drive you closer to the edge.

‘’Oh, I’m gonna cum…’’ You cry out, a layer of tears blurring your vision. Another whine in disappointment escaped your lips when Namjoon suddenly pulled his fingers out with a wet ‘pop’, licking your juices off of his hand.

‘’Not yet. You’re too greedy.’’

‘’Daddy, seriously…’’ You pout, earning a stern glare from Namjoon that has your insides stirring. But in reality, both of you enjoyed the small dynamic.

‘’Ungrateful little whore.’’ Namjoon tsk’s as he grabs the small metal rod, warming the material in his hand as he uses his free hand to hold your aching length straight, ‘’And here I was going to make you feel so good. You want this, don’t you?’’ He dangled the small tool, your quick nodding serving as your reply. ‘’That’s what I thought. You’re so kinky, puppy.’’

Says the man with the small piece of metal in his hand, you mused.

Namjoon was patient, holding your cock in his hand until it slowly went flaccid in his hands. It was easier this way, and much more fun. When deemed soft enough, he gently prodded at your urethra with the toy, slowly pushing in inside as his other hand held you still. His eyes flickered between his ministrations and your face, closely keeping track of any sign of pain. He knows it’s bound to bring you some discomfort, but he knew you loved it--and he knew exactly how to do this properly with you. It is an intense feeling, the deeper he pushed the sounder, the tighter your eyebrows were knit together in focus, breathing heavily with the occasional whimper escaping your lips.

Like this, you were truly beautiful in Namjoon’s eyes. So vulnerable and responsive, he felt powerful. This was one of his favorite toys, no doubt. He knew exactly how deep you could take it, going so incredibly slow; the sensitive tissue far too precious to damage. There was no need to go rough, simply move it very, very carefully inside of you, every nerve in your cock responding to the smooth glide.

‘’Oh, yes… Feels good, daddy..’’ Your voice was breathy, your high pitched whimpers made Namjoon’s bulge throb in his pants, leaking precum in his boxers. Fuck, you were delicious.

‘’Such a good boy, you take it so well.’’ Namjoon praised you, another rush of heat and excitement washed over you, a small smile tugging at your lips before your expression morphed into pleasure, lips parting in a loud moan when he gently prodded your prostate again. Your cock grew hard, making it a bit more difficult for him to move the sounder inside of you, and a slight sting in pain as your urethra tightened around the tool.

‘’Ow, too much…’’ You whine, feeling your edging orgasm build up once more, ‘’yellow, yellow…’’

Namjoon slowed down, carefully sliding the metal rod out of you and placing it back on the bed, his eyes admiring your stretched, wet holes.

‘’God, such a pretty man.’’ Namjoon coyly said as he worked to pull his pants down along with his underwear, his thick length sprung up when it was finally set free from the restraints of fabrics, tip red and slick with his precum, ‘’You’ve been a good, good boy. Do you want a reward?’’

‘’I want you, Joo--.. Daddy.’’ You corrected yourself quickly, but with the way he crooked his eyebrow at you, he noticed your slip up.

‘’Close call. I almost would’ve had to punish you for it.’’ Namjoon licked his lips as he crawled on top of you, sitting on his knees between your legs as he rubbed circles on the bulbous head of his cock with his thumb, eyes fixed on your entrance.

‘’Sorry, I’m sorry…’’ You swallowed tightly, voice weak as you wiggled your hips, ‘’Please reward me, I promise I’ll make you feel so good.’’

‘’I don’t doubt it, puppy. Your ass is dripping for me.’’ His lower lip was swollen from biting down on it so much, but the light aching on his mouth was nothing compared to the pleasure he was about to feel. He pumped himself a few more times before moving his hips forward, pushing his swollen head inside of you with ease, ‘’God, you’re so perfect. Made for my cock.’’

‘’Ah..’’ Namjoon drove his hips forward until he was fully nestled inside of your ass, his cock throbbing as he took a moment to adjust to the tightness wrapping around his length, biting back an eager moan at the sensation. He leaned down on top of you, pressing a kiss on your lips before trailing down your neck, bottom lip grazing your unsteady adam’s apple before giving it a light suck to color the skin with a small hickey. ‘’Gonna take my cock like a good boy.’’ Namjoon growled lowly as he started grinding his hips into you, ‘’And you’re gonna make me feel so fucking good.’’ He resumed to litter hickeys down your neck, replacing his soft lips with teeth, biting down to mark your collarbone.

The short, sweet moment didn’t last for very long however, as Namjoon grew greedier from the way your fleshy walls closed in on him. Even after being with you for so long, Namjoon felt himself throbbing from the expressions you’d make as he thrusted into you.

‘’More, more, daddy please..’’ You cry out breathily, fighting the restraints that are tightly holding your wrists together, a layer of sweat glistening on your torso. You audibly gasp when a particularly hard thrust smacked against your ass.

Your incoherent pleads turned into slurry words with every thrust, Namjoon finally began to give you what you wanted. Faster, harder, more, he slammed his cock into you, low grunts slipping past his teeth.

‘’Squeezing my cock so tight, fuck…’’ Namjoon’s mouth hung open, eyes never wavering from yours as he dug his blunt nails into the skin of your thighs, pressing your knees harder against your chest to allow him to reach even deeper, ‘’Tell me how it feels, babyboy.’’

‘’S-so good, shit, so good… ‘m gonna cum, please don’t stop…!’’ You rambled, head snapping from side to side with your eyes screwed shut. It was overwhelming, how good it felt every single time Namjoon’s cock rubbed and prodded your insides, the lewd, slick sounds of his length being only half way pulled out before he slammed right back in, skin smacking together harder and harder as he grew greedy for your shameless moans.

''I'm gonna cum-- Joonie, I'm-- I won't be able to hold it..'' Your words broke into a moan when Namjoon reached down to engulf your needy cock in his tight grasp, mercilessly pumping it from the very start.

''Gonna cum too, fill your perfect little ass. That's your reward for being such a good boy, making me feel so fuckin' good..'' Namjoon let your slip of using his nickname pass, because he felt his orgasm building up so quickly that nothing else mattered, it was too good, sloppily fucking into you while simultaneously jerking you off. Both of you were moaning, grunting, sweaty messes by now, indulged in the moment of simply feeling, not thinking.

Namjoon let go of your cock the second you came, pathetically throbbing untouched as hot ropes of white pooled at your stomach. A throaty moan erupted from your chest, the sensation so intense when your boyfriend kept driving his cock into you as deep as physically possible.

‘’Fuck yes, so pretty when you cum, such a good boy--’’ Namjoon praised between grunts, hovering above you as he placed his palms adjacent to your head, sweat dripping from his temples. The rhythm in his hips was irregular at this point, no care for keeping a steady pace, but instead to indulge in the pleasure of just fucking you. A few rough thrusts later, you gasp when Namjoon’s cock throbbed heavily inside of you, feeling the hot gushes of cum coating your insides. You deliberately clench around him, drawing a broken moan from Namjoon as he slows down his stuttering hips.

‘’Ah, puppy, you feel fantastic.’’ Namjoon breathed out, leaning down to kiss you softly, still slowly rocking his hips back and forth to ensure he’s given you every single drop of his cum. He pulls back to look at you, his soft dimpled smile growing when you mirrored his expression of joy. He inched closer, stealing another kiss from you before he gets up to untie you.

‘’What do you say now, baby?’’ Namjoon coyly asked as he put away the ropes, crawling into bed next to you to embrace his little good boy in his arms.

‘’Thank you.’’ You scrunch your nose in a small smile, cuddling up against his clammy chest, listening to his still racing heart.

‘’Thank youuu, what?’’ He pouted.

‘’Joonie.’’

‘’Ddaeng.’’ Namjoon sighed, ‘’I wish you’d call me daddy more.’’

‘’Never outside of this room.’’

‘’One day.’’ Namjoon chuckled, pressing a kiss against your sweaty temple.

‘’Oooor not.’’ You countered.

‘’One day.’’ He repeated with confidence, squeezing his arms around you tighter.

As always, they both knew Namjoon always got what he wanted eventually.

It was just a matter of patience.

#fic: uhgood #namjoon smut #rm smut #kim namjoon smut #bts smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x male #namjoon x male reader #bts x male #bts x male reader #namjoon pwp #sombreboy

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marvelousimagines · 4 years

Text

You're Everything

Mob Boss!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,709

Summary:

Note: I wasn't sure if this was a request or not, and you just couldn't think of a prompt. Or if you were just asking a question. Either way I hope you like it.

You could hear the faint murmur of voices a few feet away from you. Their timbres like insects buzzing against your ears, and you want nothing more than to shut them out. Closing your eyes does little to alleviate the headache that was starting a warpath within your skull. You try to fight against the pain that was starting to slowly work its way down your body. A harsh reminder of your predicament and subsequent failure.

You know that this was your fault. If you had just listened you wouldn’t be here. You would be at your apartment with Natasha. Safe within her warm embrace and the fuzzy feeling you always got when she was near. You shouldn’t have defied her when all she had been wanting to do was protect you.

Your head only drops lower as you recall the conversation that had started this domino effect.

-----

“Natasha I don’t see what the big deal is,” you say, exasperation clear within your tone as you move through your shared apartment. “You have had plenty of scuffles with rival gangs before. Some that were even worse than this one. So why do I have to stay indoors now?”

Turning your head you meet Natasha’s stoic gaze when her silence continues, but you’re not put off by the unwavering look like others might have been. Crossing your arms you simply raise your eyebrow in challenge. Not at all impressed by her intimidation tactic. You watch as something shifts within emerald orbs turning them softer than they were previously. Slim shoulders slackening slightly at your continued defiance.

“Lyubimaya,” Natasha begins her voice coming out in a gentle whisper, but you can clearly see that she was just as exasperated as you were. After all you had been arguing about this for about two hours, and neither of you was going to give in anytime soon. “I understand that you’re annoyed, I do, but you know that I wouldn’t be asking this if I wasn’t being serious. I would never want to take any freedom from you, but in this case I don’t have a choice.”

Dipping your head you have to fight the urge to move towards her. Especially when you could hear the clear desperation underneath her steely exterior. Her words were comforting for only a moment before your mind processed them.

“You do have a choice, Nat, you do have a say in the matter,” you hiss, eyes flashing as you bring your head back up. “I refuse to be treated like a dog. I refuse to be kept in this apartment while everyone else acts like nothing is wrong. I refuse to be treated like I’m something that can just be locked away at a moment's notice.”

A hard look passes over Natasha’s face as she listens. Her eyes, once again, turning steely and stoic. Her mob boss persona snapping back into place. You watch as Natasha, your Nat, the love of your life and the most gentle creature in the world, becomes the Black Widow, the most deadly. Turning your head so you wouldn’t have to meet her burning gaze you move towards the window. Not even sparing Natasha a glance as you feel her move towards you. Her familiar warmth pressing slightly into your side, and you know that if you would just glance at her you would see her hands twitching by her side. A clear sign that she wanted to touch you but didn’t know if she would be allowed. A thought that brings pain lancing through your heart, but you refuse to rectify it. You didn’t want Natasha to doubt your love for her, because she would always be allowed to touch you, but right now? Right now you just needed your space and time to process everything.

At your continued silence and stony posture, Natasha lets out a small sigh. The soft exhale ghosting across your neck and you want nothing more than to bring Nat into your arms. But, your pride and stubbornness wouldn’t let you. You were not going to apologize nor were you going to bend automatically because Natasha wanted your attention. No matter how much you wanted to break when her hand ghosts down your left arm. Halting slightly at your wrist, her fingers gently digging in and stopping there. As if Natasha was listening for something that only she could hear.

After a beat her hand retracts and you immediately miss her warmth, but you do nothing from stopping her. “I know that you’re upset about this situation, and it pains me to see that you’re also upset with me too, but I know that this course of action is going to keep you safe. And I would be damned if I ever let anything happen to you. Especially when I could have stopped it in the first place, because you mean more to be than anything else in this world. I refuse to put you into harm's way. Even if it means you hate me.”

Opening your mouth, to object to her last statement, you’re interrupted by her phone ringing. Natasha’s presence vanishes from your side so she can take the call. From where you were you could hear the faint sounds of a males voice, probably Steve or Bucky, and they seemed to be speaking fairly quickly. You didn’t have to turn your head to know that through it all Natasha was staring at you. The burning gaze was enough to know that she was only half listening to the conversation. If her halfhearted hmms were anything to go by at least.

“All right, I’m on my way. Sam and Clint are still coming, correct?” Natasha asks as she moves around the loft. Her movements are precise and careful so she wouldn’t disturb you. Even so you couldn’t help but stiffen at the sound of the two men's names. You had no problem with them, in fact you considered them great friends, but the thought of them being your babysitters? It fills you with a type of indignation that you didn’t know you could possess. Rationally you know that you were being a little harsh on Natasha, and you could even understand where she was coming from. But, that didn’t stop you from feeling like an animal trapped in a cage. Forced to stay because of a perceived threat that may not actually be there.

Closing your eyes, once more, you can acutely feel the way Natasha’s eyes sweep your form. Assessing you in the way only Natasha ever could, but she doesn’t move to approach you again. Instead she simply sighs and moves towards the door.

“Please be careful, lyubimaya, at least until the boys get here.”

You don’t bother to vocalize your answer. Opting to stiffly nod your head in affirmation without shifting your stance once. You could feel rather than see Natasha’s defeated expression, and just as she’s about to close the door her soft voice fills the silence. “Ya lyublyu tebya.”

The door clicking softly behind her is the only other sound in the apartment for some time. The shifting of the lock is another, but you barely have time to process either. Not when your gaze levels on the window in front of you. The window that conveniently had a fire escape on it, and was conveniently unlocked.

Turning your head you look towards the closed apartment door. Half expecting Natasha to come barreling back in as if she could sense your plans. After a moment when nothing happens your shoulders slacken with relief. Your head turning back towards the window and your plan already in motion.

If Natasha wanted you to stay she should have stayed with you to make sure that you would.

You were not a good little prisoner that follows every order to the letter. You were your own person and you had things that you needed to do. Even if it meant angering Natasha to be able to do them.

Moving towards the window you couldn’t help but feel the elation course through you as it seamlessly opens. Your heart pounding against your chest as you step through and onto the fire escape.

No you weren’t a good little prisoner at all.

-----

Which is what brought you to where you were now. Tied up against a dingy wall in the warehouse district of New York. Your arms slightly elevated above your head and your mouth gagged so you couldn’t make any substantial noise. Four men stood before you and you wanted nothing more than to punch the self satisfied smirks off of their faces. They had caught you unaware as you were stepping out from the local grocery store that was down the street from your apartment. To add insult to injury as you were being taken the car you were in passed your building, and you could clearly see Sam and Clint on the phone. Their eyes filled with worry and trepidation. Their worry was for you and the trepidation was for the incoming wave that would be Natasha. Her fury crashing down onto all of her men when she heard the news that you were gone.

You had wanted nothing more than to jump out of the car, but the cold metal digging into the small of your back stopped you. Not that you could have gained their attention anyway. The goons that had snatched you were at least somewhat competent, unfortunately, and they gagged you the moment you were in the car. “We don’t want you to cause any unwanted attention now do we?”

The whispered words against your ear still causes a shiver to run down your spine. The words themselves not having any actual effect on you, but the way in which they were spoken. The dark promise that lay in undertones of the gruff voice, and the way the speakers hand had caressed your hip when saying it.

Closing your eyes you allow your head to lull down. Your body slowly starts to become numb in the position that it was in. The stiffness of your muscles doing little to ease the ache of the bruises that you knew were forming. Your captors having not been the gentlest of people when grabbing you. You were sure that you would have a bruise in the shape of a handprint for the foreseeable future. If I even make it out of this.

A thought that makes your breath catch, your head shaking slightly against the sudden fuzziness that it brings. No. You couldn’t start thinking like that because if you did then you would lose all hope, and you know that Natasha would come for you. That she would burn the entire city down if it meant getting to you, and that thought breaks your heart even more. How could you have doubted her? How could you have treated her demand like every other possessive girlfriends? How could have doubted her love for you? When she had shown her devotion to you time and time again. You know that being her girlfriend was dangerous, and you know that your safety was top priority to Natasha. And, you had simply cast her concerns aside like they were nothing more than pesky flies.

Your eyes slip shut on their own volition, this was your fault. You deserved everything that was coming towards you.

You could tell that the men were nearing the end of their conversation, and you know what would happen to you when it finished. They would start their interrogation and by the look of the knives on the table beside you it wouldn’t be the fun kind. Staring at a particularly brutal looking knife you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. Thinking about how it would feel to have that digging into your flesh. Ripping your body open like it was nothing. You never felt so human before, so vulnerable. Your mind swirls with the thoughts of death and pain. Blocking the rest of the world out from you.

Because of this, however, you completely miss the sounds of choked gasps from in front of you. The sound of bodies falling with a gentle thud against the decrepit floorboards of the warehouse. Only when a familiar warmth appears in front of you, and gentle hands cradle your face, do you snap out of it. Your gaze meeting shimmering emerald as Natasha smiles at you. Her beautiful face was all that you could see as she cut you down, your legs automatically giving out after being numb for so long. Though you needn’t have worried about falling for too long, because Natasha caught you in her strong hold.

Her lips press against your temple with an almost desperate urgency. Her voice coming out in a choked whisper as she clings to you, gently rocking you both back and forth. “I’m here, lyubimaya, I’m here and I’m never going anywhere. All right? I’m never leaving you again.”

Pressing yourself more fully into Natasha’s side you couldn’t help the tears that slip from your eyes. “I’m so sorry, Nat, I should have listened to you. I shouldn’t have been so hard headed and egotistical. I shouldn’t have let my pride get in the way of your worries. I’m so sorry, Natasha.” You know that your voice sounded choked, almost as choked as Nat’s, but you couldn’t help it. You had almost been taken away from the love of your life because of your own stupidity. Something that you weren’t sure you could ever forgive yourself for.

“There is no need to apologize, but please never do this again. I don’t think my heart could ever take it again. Just like I don’t what I would have done if I hadn’t been faster,” she says, her arms keeping you pressed against her as she raises you both from the floor. Snuggling further into her side you allow your head to rest against her shoulder. Your bodies slot together like puzzle pieces.

“I’m just glad that my mistake didn’t cost us everything,” you say, leaning heavily into Natasha’s side as you begin to move. Your legs still not wanting to cooperate to their full potential. You choose to ignore the bodies that litter the ground of the place. Their throats having been slit, and an almost surprised expression on their faces.

Stepping out into the night you couldn’t help but relish the wind on your face, and the warm body pressing you against her side. Feeling Natasha’s soft hand caressing your cheek prompts you to look at her. Her green eyes shining underneath the moonlight, a gentle smile pulling on her lips. “I am happy about that as well, lyubimaya, more than you could ever know. I would have let this city burn if it meant getting to you faster, and I’m so happy that it didn’t have to come to that.” She says as she brings her lips to press against yours, A gentle embrace between two souls that needed nothing more than to reconnect with one another.

Pulling away you could feel a small smile beginning to form on your lips. You always seemed to be smiling when Natasha was near. “I love you, Nat.”

A blinding smile spreads across Natasha’s face at your words. A look of pure adoration replacing the normally stoic mask. “I love you too. I always have and I always will.”

Putting your face back into the crook of her neck you begin to move once more. Natasha’s arms never waver from your waist nor do yours stray from hers. You know that the boys would be by soon to clean up the mess, but you couldn't really think of anything but Natasha. The warmth of her body and the feeling that seemed suffused itself into your chest because of her hold.

You had almost lost it because of your own stubbornness, and you promised yourself then and there that you would never do so again.

You had learned tonight that you weren’t Natasha’s prisoner, you were her home. Just like she was to you and you could never be happier about anything else. As long as you had each other you could fight through anything.

Together.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow x you #black widow x reader #black widow #mob boss au #mob boss natasha #avengers #you're everything

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revalise · 4 years

Text

Afterdate | UshiOi

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Oikawa Tooru

Genre: Fluff, first date

Rating: SFW

Words: 6900+

A/N: This was for UshiOi Week (@ushioiweek2020) but I wasn't able to make the deadline. I wrote Ushijima and Tendou scenes on a writer's block, phew. Thank you to Risa for beta reading this! I owe it all to you!I have quite a number of Haikyuu one-shot ideas, including thrillers and angst, I still need to write. But uni is taking a lot of my time and I haven't fully surpassed my writer's block yet (hence, why I've been posting less and less). If you enjoyed it, don't hesitate to comment. See you on the next! Nevertheless, I hope you love the story as much as I loved writing it!

Masterlist

Ushijima stared at the slightly breathless wonder in front of him as he skidded to a halt. His eyes twinkled, just a bit—in a way they usually did when he was amused but tried hard not to be. Oikawa looked spectacular. Utterly and completely spectacular. A little stiff on the edges, but spectacular

It was a terrible date. Until it wasn’t.

The usually loud metropolis was quiet as a wraith as Tendou and Ushijima waited for the bus home. The kiss of smooth, cold breeze enveloped them both, making Tendou shiver.

Tendou rubbed his hands on his arms as the condensation of his breath blew against the low temperature before whipping his head to the side, only to see Ushijima dart his gaze to the road, patiently waiting. He didn’t care at all about the freezing temperature, standing still as the bus finally arrived, making Tendou frown at their differences.

He would always find himself beside Ushijima as it seemed they always came in a pair. And he knew how different they were. Tendou was the lively one, while Ushijima remained as composed as ever. For a moment, he thought he’d never outdo the captain of the team, but Tendou had a girlfriend waiting for him, waiting for a message regarding his whereabouts.

That alone was enough to make him think he was ahead of the stoic captain. And as a serial dater, Tendou knows how girls turn into something else when their boyfriends don't text back in two minutes.

But when he took out his phone, it was dead.

So the horror that produced sweat on his forehead cascaded down from his neck, even in the temperature, was accompanied by a hammering chest. He knew he needed to shoot his girlfriend a message.

He was left with no choice but to ask Ushijima to borrow his phone. As he fumbled through his friend’s phone after he had no choice, something piqued his interest.

Tendou paid a short glance beside him and his mouth formed a sly smile. The shock mixed with amusement on his face was inexplicable when he saw the Tinder app on his best friend's phone. He covered his mouth to stifle a snort, careful not to wake passengers in their slumber in the back row, late at night from volleyball practice.

Ushijima directed his attention at Tendou, who was looking at him maliciously. The moment his eyes landed on the phone, he understood why.

He tried to hide his surprise, but failed miserably as he quickly tried to retrieve his phone back from Tendou.

Thanks to all the blocking techniques Tendou learned from the team, he held the phone as high as he could out of Ushijima's reach. There was no way Ushijima could retrieve his phone without pushing Tendou over and making a scene since he sat on the window side.

"Hm," Tendou teased. "Since when did you have this?"

"I don't know why it's in there. Give it back," Ushijima argued with a straight face, but the falter in his voice was enough to prove that he was lying. And he wasn't a good liar.

Tendou wiggled his brows, tilting his head. From Tendou's above peripheral, the app successfully loads, and he immediately turns his attention to it, raising it further from Ushijima's grasp.

He pressed on Ushijima's profile. Gods above, did it make him cringe, not to mention the photo Ushijima used for his profile taken about four years ago.

Ushijima, 20

Miyagi Region

"Ugh," Tendou released a sigh. "Have you ever dated anyone from here?"

Ushijima sighed, sitting straight as he set his head down, "No, I don't understand it. I only swiped, and then nothing."

So nobody swiped for him, Tendou thought, feeling both sorry and amused for his friend at the same time. He should change his picture on the app. He looks like an annoying know-it-all, 15 year old. Nobody would go for him.

"Well, that's why you have me," Tendou grinned and head-locked Ushijima. "I'm going to help you get a date!"

The volleyball captain slowly looked up at his friend, "How?"

Tendou only smiled, "Leave it to me."

All Ushijima could ever do was sigh and look over the window as the bus moved further away. He kept his eyes on the bright and warm lights of establishments outside that elongated from the bus’s movement.

He knew that fighting Tendou was futile. In all these years, he had known how the redhead always did whatever he wanted, and how he was good at getting all that. Besides, Ushijima felt too tired to argue anyway.

The continuous clicks of the camera brought his conscience back from almost spacing out. Immediately, he turned his head over to the source beside him to see a smiling Tendou holding his phone as if he’d just come up with something interesting of some sort.

“Did you know it's rude to take photos of somebody without their knowledge?”

The redhead only rolled his eyes with a grin, turning the phone over to Ushijima to show the new profile he’d arranged. "And did you know I only did that as a favor?"

His new bio now read:

Ushijima, 20

Miyagi Region

I must be in a museum because you are a work of art

The four year old photo he once had as his profile picture was now replaced with the one Tendou took.

It was Ushijima's side profile looking outside over the window. The lights of the establishments they passed through created a nostalgic aesthetic along with the slight blurriness of the photo, but never missing his straight, high nose and the sharpness of his jaw. Oh, and that aura of both seriousness and mysteriousness that Tendou knew would catch the attention of anyone who’d look at it.

Ushijima stared at the phone closely, reading the new bio Tendou wrote for him, "That doesn't feel like me at all."

Tendou ignored his friend's remark, giving the phone back to him. "Now try swiping again."

Ushijima took his phone back, observing what buttons to press as he had forgotten how to use the app between the long months since he used it. Finally, the profiles load and he's greeted with a certain boy with light brown hair looking rather cheerful in his picture.

Oikawa, 20

Miyagi Region

If nothing lasts forever, can you be my nothing? ;)

Ushijima scrunched his nose, making Tendou roll his eyes as he grabbed the phone back from him.

“You don’t just stare at it, okay?” He swipes right and a match appears, “See? You swipe and then that will appear if they like you too.”

“Why would they like me if they don’t even know me yet?” the captain asked, tilting his head to the side.

Tendou grimaced, looking a little funny at the innocent question asked of him. “They like your face, okay?” he replied. “Okay?”

Oikawa couldn’t remember how long he’d been talking to the brunette he met on Tinder. Yes, Ushijima was a dry texter, but for some reason, for some reason, he couldn’t stop himself from talking to him. Not even when every topic shifted to thinking if they’d ever had milk from the same cow. Because Ushijima took him to a place where he only knew two things: that he couldn’t stop smiling and couldn’t stop looking forward to all his replies.

The smell of sweat and the sounds of bouncing balls and shoes scraping against the gym floor sang around Oikawa as he made himself comfortably seated all alone on the bench, taking advantage of the fifteen-minute break the coach lent the team.

He laced his phone around his nimble fingers while the other danced around the clean, white towel he used to wipe his forehead before setting it down beside him, placing it along various colored tumblers that belonged to his teammates.

Iwaizumi watched Oikawa from a distance, gulping down on his tumbler, rivulets of water running down from his lips to his Adam's apple, all the way down to his chest. He narrowed his eyes at the flamboyant big shot as he lowered his drink.

He didn’t know why exactly, but there was something different about Oikawa today.

One could say that there was something quite off about the confident captain of the team. Usually, he’d be socializing with the team, or annoying Iwaizumi during breaks, but today he chose to confine himself in the corner, craving what little quiet the noisy gym could offer. Of course, underneath the winks, smiles, exaggerated swagger, and childish antics lies a much more serious persona for when a situation demands it, channeling all that bravado in his pursuit.

But what was so important that could possibly bring Oikawa’s tenacity and attention completely locked on his phone, which he hasn’t put down since the first minute? What could possibly have Oikawa on edge that he couldn’t keep his right heel from lifting and dropping over and over, restlessly?

Oikawa couldn’t stress how long he’d been waiting for Ushijima to ask him out. He wished to have Ushijima beside him, wished he could inhale his scent—and how he probably smelled of dark wood with a hint of vanilla, wished Ushijima’s fingers threaded his hair, and how he wished they were something more.

Truthfully, he couldn’t explain why he’s so intoxicated with the man. He couldn’t determine or distinguish the weight of various reasons why, as if translating them into words would be translating symbols into letters.

Perhaps, the first time Oikawa let himself be swayed by the awkward and dry texter was after he had only slipped into his blanket. Ready to go into a deep slumber after reviewing tapes of his enemy team a day before the match to chalk out strategies, when his phone lit up, the light coming from the screen illuminating a halo around the corner.

From: Ushijima (sent at 9:43pm)

No. You’re the only one I talk to.

His breathing hitched, and he rose as quickly as he laid on the bed. In the small light, his bronze eyes glittered. A corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he wondered, Only me?

Oikawa had teased Ushijima about staying up late to reply to others. Vague, but just the right words to get the exact answer he wanted from the male: if he’d been talking to anyone else other than him. But he found himself kept up by the lingering messages from Ushijima.

A few weeks after that conversation, and at the mention that Ushijima also played volleyball, here he sat anxiously alone on the gym bench, trying the same scheme yet again.

Another word, another hint that he was interested in meeting Ushijima.

To: Ushijima (sent at 4:30pm)

Yeah, volleyball is good! But I miss hanging out sometimes >_<

Oikawa bit his bottom lip, anxiously staring at his phone that had just shifted to a black screen as he waited for a reply. He sighed, dropping his eyelids as he slumped his shoulders back from all the tension he didn’t know had been building up.

His phone pinged, almost sending his body into a full gallop, immediately raising his gaze to the screen. His heart jumped at the sight of the text preview, Do you want to…

This is the moment. He’s finally going to ask me out. Oikawa smiled to himself, regaining his composure as he sat upright. He inhaled slowly, swiping his fingers to unlock the message. Nevermind the smell of sweat. This is the moment.

From: Ushijima (sent at 4:32pm)

Do you want to play volleyball?

Oh. The corners of his mouth dropped just as soon as they pulled upward at the reply. His shoulders sagged, setting his head down in disappointment. Oikawa couldn’t quite make it up, but sometimes, Ushijima seemed to be out of place.

Sometimes, he’d read signals as fast as he misinterpreted others.

This is hopeless, Oikawa laughed to himself. The array of possibilities he set for himself and Ushijima smeared like oil in the air, drowning out his suave as he tried to shut them all down. Then he tipped his head back, breathing in deep. Breathing in the disappointment, taking it into his head that Ushijima was most likely not at all interested in that way. Anxiety and embarrassment mingled into his chest.

But his phone pinged another time, and it sent his body into another jolt.

From: Ushijima (sent at 4:33pm)

I mean, do you want to go on a date?

And for a moment, he couldn’t breathe under the crushing weight that pushed in on him.

“Are you going on a date or to a Sunday morning service?” Tendou cackled as he watched Ushijima put on his necktie over his deep violet long sleeves he paired with black slacks, sitting comfortably on the bed.

Ushijima reciprocated Tendou's gaze through the full body mirror, his eyes squinted, fingers securing the knot of his tie, “What's wrong? Isn't this presentable?”

“Formal. Too formal!” he said as he raised his hands up to stress his remark, barely unable to stop the wide, malicious smile.

“Then tell me,” Ushijima sighed in defeat, realizing that his friend might be right. “What should I wear?”

He was so hopeless that Tendou wondered, What would he do without me? What would have become of him if it weren’t for me guiding him in the big world out there?

Tendou could go on and on about teasing Ushijima with the kind of clothing he chose to wear. Who goes to a date wearing a church outfit? But he saw how Ushijima needed genuine help and pushed his remarks to the side, lending his friend a helping hand on his first Tinder date.

Actually, his first date in general.

“You sound like that time when you finally asked your match out on a date,” Tendou chuckled. “Oh, it was thanks to me.”

Ushijima turned to face Tendou, “I thought it was obvious.”

“Obvious?” Tendou’s hand reached for his stomach as he laughed at his best friend’s words. “How is asking someone to play volleyball flirting? How is that considered flirting?”

Thanks to Tendou, Ushijima was able to make a correction. He was fast to take the latter’s phone in his hand and send another reply. The shock that reverberated into Tendou’s body only dispersed once they received an enthusiastic reply. A feeling that Ushijima would never have felt because of his inexperience.

“But I don’t just ask anyone to play volleyball,” Ushijima replied, tone low and neutral, completely clueless. If he was embarrassed, it didn’t show. Rather, his face remained distant as usual.

The red-haired cleared his throat. It was one of those rare moments when he thought he should be honest with Ushijima before he ventured into a world he hadn't stepped into: dating.

“You’re hopeless. But there’s one thing I can tell you,” Tendou clicked his tongue, eyes shifting left and right trying to search for the perfect words.

He weighed in the list of possibilities that could happen to Ushijima and his date. Of course, there was already a high probability that both of them would be as awkward as ever. But Tendou took notice of the amount of emojis Ushijima’s date uses, so he couldn’t be that boring.

Sometimes, there are just people who could make everything boring. Unfortunately, Ushijima was part of that.

Tendou chuckled inwardly at his thoughts.

Ushijima was intimidating, and he doesn’t speak much. But when he does, he can come off as blunt. He was the kind of man who spoke no lies. He didn’t hesitate to speak what’s on his mind. He didn’t have any concerns. Only that he disliked things he didn’t understand.

He had the oozing air of confidence and reliability about him. He was a fantastic player on the court, but he was just a regular person outside of that. And sometimes, Tendou wondered if Ushijima had any fun at all.

His scrutinizing gaze brought Ushijima’s eyes to meet his through the mirror as the lad unbuttoned his shirt to change. “Have fun.”

Oikawa’s blood pumped through him in a strange rhythm. With every step he took, his feet felt heavy, lightweight, soft, and hard all at once, dragging them to move. He was tizzy as he approached the cinema—where he and Ushijima agreed to meet, biting down on his bottom lip.

The man walking in front of him paid him a short glower as if he’d been suspecting Oikawa for his stalking gait. Oikawa reciprocated the man’s hostility with an apologetic smile, halting his steps and embracing the frigid weather around him.

He took in a few deep breaths as he closed his eyes. Then he opened them, and the big ‘CINEMA’ sign glowed red in the light of the dark and the busy streets and youth passing by.

The first snow still hasn’t touched the ground, but it was felt in the frigid cold. He posted himself beside the entrance. He could feel the warm temperature coming from inside the hall whenever the doors opened. There was that burning need to invite himself in, but he stood outside, patiently waiting in the cold.

All around him, there were laughs and smiles from people around his age. Mostly couples, but he spotted friends who came in groups. Some were buying tickets from the booth manned by a straight-faced fellow, who impassively bid goodbye by saying, “Enjoy your movie.”

Some, he guessed, were waiting for someone. The restless tapping of their foot against the ground, the constant checking of time, and the biting of their lips. All of which Oikawa recognized. Because he was doing the same thing.

He raised his left hand, pushing aside his long, blue sweater sleeves to reveal his leather watch, “6:47…” he whispered.

There were still thirteen minutes left to see Ushijima for the first time. Thirteen minutes to hold on to his dear sanity.

He tapped his foot restlessly against the pavement once more, releasing another breath that condensed in the air, making him push his khaki scarf upwards to cover his mouth.

As soon as he raised his gaze towards what’s in front of him, he saw the man he’d been yearning to see. Behind the screen. Behind all those words. Behind all the smiles. And on that cold night, he saw him for the first time.

Oikawa’s eyes widened as he watched Ushijima from only eight feet away.

Ushijima’s body was turned to the side, giving Oikawa only the picture of his long coat, cropped light-colored trousers, and loafers. His side profile boasted that high nose and that brown hair—and Oikawa wondered if it was as smooth as it looked.

It’s literally unfair how attractive he is, Oikawa groaned in his thoughts. He knew how strange it was to look at Ushijima. But he found difficulty in not staring at him. He couldn’t find the courage to tear his gaze away from him. Not when Ushijima had that mesmerizing aura about him.

He was all too aware of how cliche he sounded, and he smiled like a fool when he realized that, maybe, he liked it. And he was still smiling like a fool when Ushijma whipped his head in his direction, locking their gazes.

Ushijima narrowed his eyes, making Oikawa’s smile drop as soon as he realized. But Ushijima was already walking toward him, and Oikawa couldn’t breathe.

“Good evening,” Ushijima greeted as soon as he was in front of Oikawa. If he was nervous, if he was shy, it didn’t show.

Oikawa noted the aura Ushijima emitted. He was, perhaps, more than what he had expected. A little too unreal, maybe. He swallowed, but his throat was too dry. “Hello…”

Ushijima’s lips twitched a little upwards. Even as he smiled, there was still something serious left in the air. “Have you been waiting long?” he checked his watch then returned to the speechless Oikawa.

He’s so pretty. I think I’m gonna faint, Oikawa thought before he realized he was asked a question. He shook his head to disperse himself of unwanted thoughts, creasing his brows as he leaned a little forward. Ushijima’s scented soap caressed his nose, a touch of wood… and is that baby powder? “I’m sorry. What was that?”

“Have you been waiting long?” Ushijima repeated.

“Oh. No,” Oikawa retreated. “No, I haven’t. I just got here,” he chuckled, trying to conceal the awkwardness in his tone. Feeling a little anxious, he asked, “And you?”

“I also just got here,” Ushijima answered dryly. Then his eyes went past Oikawa, and both felt the warm temperature from inside the hall, the noises sounding louder as the door swung open before it shut on its own and the noises died down with it.

Ushijima brought his gaze back to Oikawa, “Would you like to go inside? I’ve got the tickets.”

“Sure…” Oikawa smiled awkwardly.

Ushijima pushed the door open for Oikawa, to which he thanked him for. As soon as Ushijima couldn’t see his face, he closed his eyes in frustration. Say something!

Oikawa found himself speechless around Ushijima. It seemed like all of his confidence had died at the very sight of him. There was something intimidating about Ushijima that he couldn’t quite explain.

Yes, he’d been waiting for this moment for so long. And he hated himself for feeling as if he wasn’t even trying hard to connect with him.

The thundering drum in his heart pulsed through his ears, drowning out the sound of talks and the smell of popcorn invading his nose. He was shifting his weight from one foot to another as they waited in line for the cinema room, pocketing his trembling hands as he started at his feet.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose with two fingers, then lifted his head as he smiled at the staff that manned the entrance to the cinema room before following Ushijima ahead. His throat was tight in nervousness—a feeling he wasn’t very much familiar with—even as they sat in their seats.

Oikawa shifted his gaze over to Ushijima, and found he kept his eyes on the big screen, the flickering light from the changing scenes illuminated the planes of his face. He could watch Ushijima the entire time. Nevermind that Romeo and Juliet movie using the original dialogue. He couldn’t even understand it.

Then his eyes shifted towards his hand that rested on the recliner, making him frown. Since the movie started, he already placed his hand where Ushijima could hold it. But the movie was probably half over already, and nothing.

A child’s cry drowned the actors’ voices and shook the whole cinema, turning everyone’s attention to the source in the row behind them. Only Ushijima did not bother to pay a glance towards the disturbance.

Oikawa thought, Why make a child watch Romeo and Juliet?

He stifled a laugh and his hand flew to cover the corners of his mouth from twitching upwards as cheese popcorn fell from right above Ushijima’s head.

That was all it took to have Ushijima turn his attention to the annoying child. The audience expressed annoyance through angry muffles, but Ushijima remained calm and collected, politely accepting apologies from the man, whom Oikawa guessed as the father, as he tried to soothe the crying child.

Ushijima caught Oikawa’s attention, but it was too late for him to hide his smile. Oikawa laughed awkwardly, then hoisted his drink he hadn’t touched from the recliner to hand over to Ushijima.

“Drink water,” he said even as he himself was dehydrated.

Musicians took up spots inside the restaurant that Ushijima booked for the date. The room was filled with a blend of soft conversations, the clang of plates, and violins. Such a beautiful sound, if only that one musician knew how to carry a tune.

Oikawa and Ushijima kept straight faces, looking at each other as if they could tell what the other was thinking.

It was grand, but terrible. The dishes were too small. Certainly not enough to satiate their hunger. And that music? Gods above.

He registered the change in Ushijima’s face as he watched him intently across the table that separated them both. His ears were turning a little red, his forearms braced on the table. While Oikawa, on the other hand, leaned on the back of his chair, sitting like a king.

“How do you do it?” Ushijima asked quietly, his eyes almost pleading.

“Do what?” Oikawa grinned, raising his head high, teasing.

Ushijima gave him a slow smile and a flicker of light moved across his eyes, “How do you ignore that irritating sound?”

“My teammates are louder, and much more annoying than that,” Oikawa laughed, stealing another glance at the stressed-out musicians who wasted no time in poking at the one who couldn’t play the right strings. He would’ve felt sorry for him, really, had it not sparked an interesting conversation between him and Ushijima.

Ushijima traced the rim of his glass, “Louder and annoying?” his brows narrowed slightly.

“So,” Oikawa tilted his head, keeping a smile on his face as he recalled moments he spent with the team. “There was this one time when we went to a training camp. And I couldn’t sleep on the bus because they were all so obnoxiously loud and kept singing.”

Oikawa was the leader of that fiasco, but he would never admit to it.

“I had to snap their foreheads one by one to make them stop,” he shrugged. “It was fun though.”

“You have a very different definition of fun,” Ushijima chuckled, so soft and so mellow. The sound was better than the horrible quartet playing in the background, and Oikawa wanted to hear it again.

“Well,” Ushijima started, “do you want to get out of here?”

Somehow, it didn’t seem like goodbye.

“Wait!” Oikawa laughed when the tail of the scarf around his neck got caught in between the restaurant door they walked through.

Ushijima took a step closer, opening the door for Oikawa to pull out his scarf. A slash of a grin spread across his face, “What are you doing?”

Oikawa could only laugh as Ushijima stared at him with the same intensity. They stood in front of each other. No words, just stillness. But they were sure something changed. Even when they’ve only had a short time to get to know each other.

From the short distance that separated them, Oikawa watched as Ushijima’s brown eyes turned molten from the warm lights all around them. He couldn’t brush off the rush of having Ushijima look only at him, trying not to get lost in those strange, enticing eyes.

Oikawa winced as a gust of icy wind blew the tail of his scarf and froze his ears. He took that sign as an opportunity to pull it tightly around him.

“Walk with me?” he asked gently.

“I would love to,” Ushijima nodded. “But I’m afraid you would have to lead me instead. I’m not quite familiar with the road down there.”

Oikawa smiled even as he rolled his eyes, “Don’t tell me you’re the kind who gets picked up?”

Ushijima tucked his hand behind his back as they strode forward through the cobbled streets. He fumbled for words, but he did not drop his grin as the golden lights twinkled across the city, “Not really.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Do you have a reason not to?”

“Okay, you’re good,” Oikawa complimented when he couldn’t counter his quick remark.

“Thank you,” Ushijima chuckled, deep and slow.

Oikawa frowned, “You actually look more handsome with honesty on your face.”

“I do?” Ushijima grinned, boasting those white teeth, brows knotting.

“Yeah, yeah,” Oikawa waved him off. “You’re cute. Stop smiling at me like that,” he added, averting his gaze from Ushijima. “Your lack of self-awareness is deeply troubling.”

Ushijima pocketed his hands, “And you? Are you honest?”

“Yeah, I mean,” Oikawa shrugged and smiled roguishly, keeping his gaze on the lights ahead. From a distance, he could see the head of the illuminated fountain by the park they were nearing. “Maybe I’ll just be straightforward about taking advantage of you.”

Ushijima laughed but said nothing. No one spoke as they realized that the space between them felt strangely intimate.

“What about the violin in the restaurant earlier, huh?” Oikawa followed with a tease.

“What on earth,” Ushijima drawled, sounding exasperated, “is all I have to say to that.”

With a turn around the hedge, the gush of water from the fountain park enticed them both. A strong gust of wind made them feel that the air had turned colder with the time, ripping through them as they observed the golden lit decorations surrounding the park.

“Do you want to..?” Ushijima didn’t finish the words, extending his arm and pointing his index towards the brightly lit fountain.

Their date should have ended the moment they stepped out of the restaurant. But the beautiful fountain in the center illuminating their faces signaled that it had only just begun.

Before Oikawa could sit on an empty bench—only a few feet away from the fountain, Ushijima dusted it with his hand, making his date smile appreciatively at the effort. In the touch of freezing cold, it became their spot to just sit and watch the fountain as a silent acknowledgement that neither were ready to part ways just yet.

“So,” Oikawa said as he crossed his legs, turning to Ushijima as the latter sat down. “Tell me more about you.”

“About me?” Ushijima’s brows creased, setting his eyes on his hands that rested in his lap. Oikawa realized how there was no progress in terms of skinship between them, but he wasn’t complaining. “There’s nothing much about me, really.”

“Impossible,” Oikawa shook his head. “There’s never nothing about anything or anyone.”

Oikawa’s eyes glittered as he stared at Ushijima’s hand, and his heartbeat quickened when his gaze rose to his face.

“How about us?” Ushijima asked.

A flush of pink bloomed on his cheeks as his heart hammered against his ribcage. He hadn’t been expecting such an honest question, such a question that flushed all the bravado he tried so hard to muster.

“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” Ushijima tilted his head.

Oikawa kept his gaze averted, biting his full bottom lip. Because of you!

“Oikawa?” Ushijima called.

He tried not to let it show what it did to him to have Ushijima remember his name. Or to hear him say it. To have him let out the words from his lips.

“Are you okay?” Ushijima asked, but made no move to touch him.

Good. Because Oikawa wasn’t entirely certain he could handle his heat hovering against him. He took a breath, and that same impish grin swiped back. “You should know by now,” he teased.

The silence that followed after didn’t lay as heavy as it used to be. Instead, Oikawa straightened himself, resting a hand on the bench in the short distance separating both, gazing at the fountain that kept them company.

“I like mushroom risotto,” he said out of the blue.

“Mushroom risotto?”

“Mushroom risotto,” he repeated, still keeping his eyes averted.

There was a short pause before Ushijima spoke, “Did you know that mushrooms are made up of 90% water?”

Do you want to go try mushroom risotto next time? Do you want me to bring that for you one day? Do you want me to cook that for you? Such questions were what he thought would’ve followed next. Questions that would make them meet each other again. Never a random fact he didn’t expect.

Oikawa turned his head towards his date. “What?” He choked on a laugh as he asked it.

“Yeah,” Ushijima gruffed, completely unaware of what left Oikawa in disbelief. “They’re also a fungus. Did you know?”

“No,” Oikawa shook his head. “I didn’t.”

“We should forage for mushrooms next time.”

Next time, the words rang in Oikawa’s head. Next time.

“And you?” Oikawa followed. “What’s your favorite food?”

“Curry,” his date answered plainly, his free hand discreetly traveling towards Oikawa’s hand on the bench.

A faint warmth bloomed in his chest. The brief touch of Ushijima’s fingers through Oikawa sent a pang of desire through him so strong he wanted to pull him in closer. It had taken all of him, all his self control to keep his breathing steady as he gazed back at the fountain.

That was all it took to have Oikawa’s gaze back at the fountain again, “These lights are familiar,” he started. “From my recitals from those years ago. It’s kinda nostalgic.”

When Ushijima didn’t say anything, he took it upon himself to turn his head back towards him. With the look written across Ushijima’s face and those eyes, he understood.

“I will pretend I haven’t heard the question in your eyes,” he groaned.

“No, tell me,” Ushijima leaned a little forward.

“It’s nothing, really. I just took up dancing a while back. Then I shifted to volleyball,” he eyed him, searching for any sign of mockery.

“Dancing?” Ushijima pondered, running a finger along his lips—the sight making Oikawa swallow—before returning his gaze to the other, “Could you, perhaps, show me?”

“What?” Oikawa asked in disbelief, turning left and right. “Here?”

Ushijima nodded.

“What?” he shook his head. “No!”

But Ushijima stood up and offered his hand. Oikawa stared at it for a moment, creasing his brows, but a ghost of a smile remained plastered across his lips. He looked around, searching for prying heads.

“There are people,” he argued in a whisper.

Ushijima shrugged, “People are too busy to care about anyone other than themselves.”

Oikawa let out a long sigh before he took Ushijima’s hand. Narrowing his eyes, he said, “Fine.”

He cleared his throat and lumbered, positioning himself in the center from where they stood. Ushijima could never tell him, but he looked like a perfect decoration in front of the fountain behind him.

Oikawa gazed across the stone pavement. Sliding his foot back and the other forward, he extended his arms in front in a smooth motion that truly suggested he had some background in the art. He was dancing, then his arms were flailing in the sky with feline grace. His scarf spun around him as he whirled, and he was thankful for the cold that he wouldn’t sweat. He felt like flying, until the ground was beneath his feet again.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done this. And why did he stop?

Ushijima stared at the slightly breathless wonder in front of him as he skidded to a halt. His eyes twinkled, just a bit—in a way they usually did when he was amused but tried hard not to be.

Oikawa looked spectacular. Utterly and completely spectacular. A little stiff on the edges, but spectacular.

Oikawa picked up his scarf that fell on the ground. Then his eyes rested on Ushijima, whose hands were pocketed in his coat. A tug on the corner of his lips issued the bravado he’d been keeping.

“What? Amused?” he teased with a conspirator’s grin when he closed the final distance between them.

Ushijima just stared at him, taking in the warm gleam in his eyes. He said nothing, but his hand flew to Oikawa’s scarf. Both said nothing as Ushijima wrapped the it around him, “It always becomes loose when you’re the one putting it on.”

A delicious heat kissed its way down Oikawa’s neck to his spine as if there was some warmth left despite the winter.

“Perhaps I will take up dancing again,” he said in a little more than a whisper, his throat constricting at the moment.

A hush had fallen between them, but Oikawa felt as if there was something inside him that found it to be a perfect piece in their merriment. It went beyond his expectations. He enjoyed his time with Ushijima.

“Let’s take you home,” Ushijima said and Oikawa only nodded.

The streets were too quiet this time of the night—so quiet that only their footsteps and chuckles and moments of conversation lingered in the sleeping city. They were still talking and laughing, and it had been that way since they left the park, stepping forward with the wings of conversation.

“What was your favorite part?” Ushijima asked, his eyes not on the streets before him but on Oikawa. Such wild ecstasy, he noted.

Oikawa paused, his brows creasing as Ushijima waited for his answer, thinking. Then his eyes widened and met Ushijima’s, “Oh, you mean the movie?”

Ushijima only chuckled, “Yes, the movie.”

“Not the baby?”

“Yeah, and maybe that too,” a faint smile stretched Ushijima’s lips.

“Hmm, let’s see,” Oikawa looked forward, brows knotting yet again as he acted. His finger tapped on his lip in a way that forced Ushijima to remind himself to keep his focus on Oikawa’s eyes, “I like the part where the dad,” he stared back at Ushijima, “picked up the baby and they went outside. That scene was amazing!”

Ushijima chuckled, looking away from him and Oikawa realized how manly Ushijima’s voice was. Then Oikawa’s eyes scanned the street before him, how the establishments and the crooked, dark streets were becoming more and more familiar to him.

“You laughed at me earlier,” there was a hint of a smile on Ushijima’s lips.

Oikawa felt a little embarrassed, but he laughed, “You’ve gotta admit. It was kind of funny.”

“It was fine,” Oikawa answered seriously.

“Same here.”

“No way. I thought you liked Shakespeare,” he said in disbelief.

“I thought you liked Shakespeare,” Ushijima countered.

He assumed that Oikawa was interested in Shakespeare because, sometimes, he would post quotes from Romeo and Juliet. What Ushijima didn’t know was that: it was Oikawa’s literature teacher who originally posted those, and he only wanted to get on their good side.

“It took me some time to understand the words,” Oikawa admitted.

Ushijima’s smile widened, revealing his white teeth, “For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”

Oikawa’s hand flew to his mouth that went agape, “How did you memorize that?” he asked with amusement in his eyes.

“Say your lines,” Ushijima urged him.

“You are reciting Juliet’s lines,” Oikawa narrowed his eyes in thought, but the grin didn’t disappear from his lips.

“Say your lines,” Ushijima repeated, ignoring his remark.

Oikawa rolled his eyes, his brows knotting trying to remember the right words, “Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?”

“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”

“You’re annoying. Mine is long,” he frowned at how fast Ushijima replied and how long he remembered the next line was. But it took only one grin from Ushijima and he started speaking.

“Something. Something,” his eyes almost bawled upwards trying to remember the words. “Let lips do what hands do. Uh. They pray grant thou, lest faith turn to despair..?” he finished with uncertainty. “Wait. How do you even memorize these?”

“Saints do not move, though grant for prayer's sake,” Ushijima continued.

“Then move not, while my prayers’ effect I take,” Oikawa grinned with how fast he recited the lines as he halted in front of his house and Ushijima did the same.

“Thus, from my lips,” Ushijima said hoarsely. Oikawa didn’t mean to, but his eyes went down to Ushijima’s lips, “by thine, my sin is purged.”

His heartbeat quickened when his gaze rose to Ushijima’s eyes, “Then have my lips the sin that they have took,” he said in a little more than a whisper.

The night was honest and his eyes whispered of how they met, how there was an unspoken understanding between them. And being with Ushijma was like staying in the rain, he still wanted to be in it one more time.

Through a clearing in the skies, clusters of stars could be seen and the sliver of the crescent moon shone above them as they stepped into the pool of moonlight.

“Good night,” Ushijima said. “You’re probably tired.”

But he was not tired, he was not done. There was still greed and want inside of him that made him want to pull Ushijima closer. The longing for a wave of touch and friction of joy that only grew bigger and bigger by the minute.

“Good night,” was all he replied, his voice so soft and mellow.

Oikawa turned his back on Ushijima, his steps feeling heavier by the minute as he trudged away from him. But he looked back, and the greed must have shown because Ushijima stood there, watching him, thinking.

He grinned and crossed his arms, “You do realize what time it is, right?”

Ushijima shrugged and pocketed his hands, “I just want to see you walk in.”

That was all it took for Oikawa to do the opposite. He went closer to Ushijima, closing the gap between them. There was only the absence of conversation and how much he wanted to touch Ushijima.

“It was enchanting to meet you,” Ushijima said quietly before his ears filled with the softness of Oikawa’s laughter.

“Do you know how cliche you sound, Romeo?” he teased.

Oikawa watched the way Ushijima’s lips widened in a smile and died down slowly.

“I think,” Ushijima started, the words were barely more than a strangled whisper, “I like you a lot.”

The longing blinded him, and he flung himself on Ushijima, breathing in his scent and the slight trace of cheese in him. He memorized the feel of him and the heat of Ushijima’s body hovering over him.

“We probably should just go to McDonald’s next time,” he teased.

“As long as I’m with you,” Ushijima chuckled against Oikawa’s lips. “I would like that very much.”

It was only that, and their lips touched.

#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #ushioiweek2020 #ushioiweek #ushioi #ushioi fanfic #ushijima wakatoshi #oikawa tooru #ushioi fluff #fluff #first date #terrible date fanfic #ushijima wakatoshi x oikawa tooru #revalise #like and/or reblog

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it-will-not-last-the-night · 4 years

Text

PQ2-Persona 3 Characters

I play this game slowly for a number of reasons: (1) I like drawing games out because I enjoy them more that way and (2) I played it intermittently, put it down when FE3H came out, then picked it up again, then got DLC for TW3K and put it down again etc. etc. I find it an easy game to put down and get back into.

However, I am now at the end, only Enlil remains and the Velvet Rangers. Since I want to complete the game fully I’m now doing the monotonous and boring task of farming the Reaper to get to Lv 89 with Ren so I can Wild Growth my core party to his Level, get Huang Di, and finish off the Velvet Rangers. Seriously though, who thought I’d reach a point where I’m bullying the poor Reaper and getting bored of the fight? He doesn’t even get me halfway to a full level now!

Anyway. So, with the end approaching, I thought I’d do for the P3 cast what I did for the P4 cast. I decided in the end to actually not watch/read anything about P3 or P4 till I finish PQ2, to form opinions based around it purely from PQ2, then once I’m done with it I’ll go watch LP’s of P3 and P4 to see how wrong (or right!) I got things.

Without further ado my feelings towards the P3 cast solely as they are presented in PQ2:

Exceptions:

I’m starting us off with exceptions. What are exceptions? Exceptions are characters who, for whatever reason, I feel their are circumstances that make them difficult for me to really discuss as a fully-fleshed character. They aren’t necessarily bad, but something about them means I don’t really see them as a fully rounded or developed character like the rest.

P3 Protagonist: Like the P4 Protagonist and Ren I just struggle to form any feelings or attachments to this character. I’ve said before I *suck* at self-insertion. I just do. In FE3H my least favourite character is Byleth, wish I could get rid of them, as I find the relationships between characters with more detailed and fleshed out characteristics and dialogue far more interesting. The P3 Protagonist isn’t bad but, compared to the rest, just feels shallow and uninteresting. He also shares the same problem as all four Protagonists in that I am sick and tired of how much their own teams have to constantly shill them like they’re the greatest thing ever. Ugh. It’s the most annoying thing to me about these self-insert characters, everyone has to stop every ten minutes to remind the player how they’re better than everyone and worship the ground they walk on. I hate it. Anyway; so, yeah, ultimately I find the P3 Protagonist, like Ren and the P4 Protagonist, just not as fully developed or realized in PQ2, and so see them as an exception.

Koromaru: He’s a dog. He’s cute, fun, a great mascot, but he doesn’t have detailed characteristics or interesting personality and dynamics with the other members. But he’s a dog, so, that’s not strange. So I see this as an exception.

Favourite:

These are the P3 Characters who I enjoyed most of all in PQ2.

P3 Female Protagonist: So can someone explain to me why the creators decided to give the Female Protagonist alone a detailed personality and demeanour? Not to mention something like double the amount of spoken dialogue as the other protagonists? Unlike Ren and the other two male Protagonists who barely say much at all and are difficult to define personality-wise beyond ‘cool, loved by all, sometimes make sarcastic remarks’ the Female Protagonist is heavily fleshed out: she’s an energetic and over-enthusiastic type, the ‘charge in head’s first’ type who doesn’t show much in the way of the stoic ‘cool’ calm of the others, and is very effusive and evocative in her mannerisms. She’s dealing with an internal feeling of isolation and inferiority, which she tries to hide from others, and is highly sociable in her engagement with her peers. She was a lot of fun and makes a big impact early with her ‘let me dress up as a policewoman and then karate chop this guard out cold’ routine. Her interactions with Futaba early on are great, almost like an older siser, although sadly those do taper off. Junpei and Yukari have quite good interactions with her as well, the most consistent people involved in her ‘am I out of place’ feelings, and I enjoyed that. I was surprised how there is so little interaction between her and her male counterpart though, would have thought that would be a good well of inspiration.

Mitsuru: So what I love about Mitsuru is that she and Makoto are not just clones of each other. With Mitsuru also being a ‘older, colder, intelligent, authoritative’ figure I feared that the two would be very similar. But they aren’t. Mitsuru is vastly more secure in herself and confident than Makoto, who still has severe issues with her self-esteem. Indeed Mitsuru is actually kind of awesome in how confident she is. Similarly whilst Makoto is far more an advisor Mitsuru, quite honestly, comes across as if actually SHE leads the P3 cast and the protagonists are just their trump cards. Mitsuru almost always calls every shot for her team and makes the decisions, with their own respective protagonists usually just providing power. I do also enjoy that Mitsuru seems not to have the ‘I’m smart so the stupid member of our team I will always harass’ trait as her critiques of Junpei tend to purely focus on him not taking their situation to seriously and never go to the point of insulting his intelligence as Morganna does with Ryuji in the vanilla game and Royal. I also really liked Mitsuru’s interactions with Junpei. I know he has a girlfriend, he says so in the game, but I see nothing of her so I’d be lying if I didn’t say I somewhat ship the two after her nervousness inviting him to have tea with her and his desperation to protect her when he found out how hard she was trying to get along with him.

Junpei: Junpei has one thing that Ryuji and Yosuke do not have: confidence. Though Ryuji and Yosuke both front confidence it’s often incredibly easy to see the weak points in their facade and to deflate them. Junpei is able to far better stand his ground even when he’s being belittled. He is definitely more reckless than the two as a result, confidence is a double-edged sword, but he’s learned better than them the lesson of feeling good about himself. I do love how Ren can consistently support his ‘Greatest Detective Ever’ declaration and basically took every chance to do so. He luckily seems to lack any of the perversion tendencies, although as I’ve said in PQ2 the same is true of basically everyone, although I do sorta wish we got a bit more on his girlfriend if she’s so important to him. I get because she won’t appear and you won’t see her the game doesn’t want to waste time on a character we learn nothing about, but at certain points it felt off that Junpei doesn’t comment on her at all.

Interesting:

These are characters I found interesting, easily as interesting as the ones above, but for personal reasons just don’t like quite as much.

Yukari: Oh boy, Yukari. Let’s start with my problem with her before I move on to why I find her so interesting. Put simply Yukari is mean. Whilst with both Ryuji and Yosuke I was pleased to see that despite being the ‘bro’ characters, PQ2 avoided constantly haranguing on them. Not so for Yukari and Junpei, yeesh! Junpei can barely open his mouth without Yukari insulting him, sometimes really rather severely. My problem is that she often insults Junpei just cause he’s too boisterous, or confident. It just gets...well it gets like Ryuji in the vanilla game or Royal, it feels mean-spirited, particularly since Junpei never reacts by laughing or quipping back, but always by just deflating and sorta whimpering. I didn’t like it. With that said Yukari is still a very interesting character too me because she has an incredibly well-defined character. She is intelligent, emotionally so, perceptive to other’s feelings and has a very sharp wit and tongue, both to put down others and help them. Her interactions with the P3 Female Protagonist are interesting and she is often very insightful actually. I will also confess, to a slight extent, the sheer extent of her nastiness towards Junpei did make me, somewhat, feel as if the two must at least be close, they rarely ever say anything without the other chiming in, so I can see a bit of myself shipping it...but as a terrible mistake the two swear to never tell anyone else and eventually realize is just overall unhealthy for them.

Ken: Ken plays a pretty well-worn archetype and he plays it fine: the earnest young boy with an edge, wise-beyond-his-years in some senses, but wet-behind-the-ears in others, with a strong hero complex tainted by a bit of an extreme edge. Ken is interesting but less fun to me just because he is somewhat predictable in the role he fulfills, which just isn’t my personal preference. I think he has amazing chemistry, and potential, with Akechi and Futaba and wish he got to interact more with both. His interactions with Ryuji, Ann and Morganna in their Special Ticket together is also absolutely great and again I wish him and Ryuji had more consistent interaction over the course of the game. But a lot of Ken’s interactions come down to Koromaru, which is fine, just not exactly thrilling. I do think Ken is adorable though, he’s very well-meaning and clearly very hard-working, and I’m a bit surprised that some more of the compassionate PTs, such as Ann, don’t actually regularly comment on or find him endearing.

Aigis: So I feel like Aigis can come across to players of PQ2 as uncomplicated but that’s only at a surface glance. The thing with Aigis is that she clearly HAS already overcome her primary character conflict, her feelings about being an artificial construct and the meaning of her existence. Throughout the third dungeon she expounds heavily on the conclusions she’s already come too. For many a character completing their character arc becomes boring, but not for me. I found Aigis fascinating and LOVED a robot who, rather than repeating the old and tired song-and-dance of ‘do I feel? do I will?’ already has her answers and also avoids the cliche of ‘robots have no emotions’ by, in her own way, being very emotional.

Fuuka: I enjoyed Fuuka quite a bit, and find her character a nice counterpart to Rise’s and Futaba’s. Although on the surface she seems to be the ‘shy, shrinking violet’ style of character this isn’t really true. She’s soft-spoken, by comparison to most, yes, but she’s not really shy. What she is, is the more calm and analytical of the three Navigators, less prone to exuberant emotional outbursts, but at the same time clearly more innately compassionate than the other two who are more prone to teasing or mocking. I felt her established interest in technology and mechanisms wasn’t integrated as fully as it could have been, alas perhaps because Futaba seemed to occupy more of that role, but did find that, if you look closely, Fuuka actually does offer some of the best advice to Hikari, and is consistently, along with Ryuji and Futaba, Hikari’s most verbal and ardent supporter and defender.

Uninteresting:

First, note, this does not mean I dislike the characters, I like them all, but these are characters who, in PQ2, I found the least interesting.

Akihiko: I feel so bad for him. So PQ2 really does avoid, for the most part, reducing it’s characters just to gags but Akihiko, man, they really do that with him. He basically only ever says one of two things: (1) I want to fight X (2) Protein-joke. It gets...old. I feel sorry for him because I feel he has potential there but the game seems determined to never explore it. He does have a VERY fun interaction with Chie and Makoto, all three I enjoyed and I can easily see Akihiko as Chie’s mentor and teacher, the two blend together well and have fun chemistry. His interactions with Makoto are also nice since it reveals his deepest character, as he is the one who tells Makoto to acknowledge herself more and sometimes realize that there is more to existence than regimented preparation. I enjoyed his chaotic energy, despite seeming a bit like a leader and an authority figure he’s actually very chaotic and impulsive, living in a more ‘go as the current takes you’ way which makes him adaptable and reactive. Now if only they’d used that for more than protein-related jokes.

Shinjiro: Poor Shinjiro feels to me like he fell into the trap Kanji avoided. His main problem is just he spends so much time brooding and making tiny statements that we don’t get a feel for him. His other problem is that his most consistent dialogue partner is Akihiko and every single one of their conversations, almost, breaks down into: Akihiko says something about protein or fighting, Shinjiro calls him dumb, repeat. Shinjiro clearly has wisdom and common sense, but he seems to restrain himself from actually imparting it compared to the likes of Makoto, Haru, Ryuji, Naoto or Akechi. The result is he makes less of an impact because he’s the character of the main cast who most visibly feels like he’s withholding himself from the group. He’s like Akechi but more so. Akechi also, in the game, can come across as if he’s minimizing his interactions, but he doesn’t do it quite as much as Shinjiro.

#pq2 #persona 3

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mysmedrabbles · 5 years

Text

Broken - [Yoongi x BPD!Reader]

requested: by @edgythiccboi (request is pictured above)

a/n: long overdue and with about the most rough drafts ive ever written for something, its finally here! i hope you enjoy and it takes your mind off of some of the hurt from your past and present. know that the whole of the bpd/ptsd community knows what you're going through and supports you (even though we're all just a bunch of bamboozled and 3dgy kids)

warnings: quite realistic description of a bpd episode, tiny self harm mention, some splitting, self deprecation (it ends in fluff i promise)

-ghost mod alex

-hollowed lungs took struggling breaths in the condensed room, steam and water droplets covering every surface like a disease, a disease from which you could not get away from. you sat on the edge of the bathtub, wheezing into seemingly nothing, chest heaving as you strained against invisible bonds, tying you to the tub, restraining you in your own mind, a prisoner of war against your past.

-a familiar pounding in your head clouded your thoughts, and you could feel yourself spiraling through various personas, each personality you'd tailored for everyone in your life; it hurt too much, it felt like you were being pulled in a hundred different directions.

-who were you today? the bubbly friendly girl in the back of the class? the dark, almost suspiciously angry person, hiding in the shadows? maybe just a quick witted friend, always there with a funny rebuttal, making everyone laugh but yourself. what was the point of "being yourself," and "living life," when you didn't even know who that person was? that person you could have grown into died that day, the day,,, the day it happened.

-you'd been lucky enough to have survived, to live to today, but what was the point of it all really?

-you stared at your shaking hands, and for a second you see blood, draining you of your life as all you can do is sit there and watch; but you blink and its gone, only a thin white line serving as a memory.

-you'd promised him you'd never hurt yourself again, and a part of you knew that you should call to him, for he was only in the other room, no doubt writing another extraordinary song. he was always so smart, so sure of himself and an absolute genius. it wasn't an exaggeration when people complimented him on his music, it came naturally to him, he had a passion and he pursued it.

-unlike you.

-who were you but a stain on his life? he'd be better off without you anyway.

-a wave of rage came over you, and all you could see was red, red red red. How dare he not notice how in pain you were, not be here to comfort you and take care? Did he not care? was it all just a joke to him? did he even...did he even love you?

-you felt yourself spiraling further, physically bending over to the point of pain, the muscles in your lower back stretched from the lack of support. tears had started to pool in your open hands, and staring at them blankly you were only vaguely aware of choked sobs reaching out the doorway, small whimpers mixed in with cries as you tried to feel anything beside the pain.

-a small knock distracts you, cautious and questioning, and you know immediately that its yoongi. yoongi your sweet angel, the one who always made you laugh when you were feeling down, played card games with you when you needed a distraction, sung to you when you couldn't sleep, kissed your tears away no matter how many times they fell. you didn't say anything, rather let him open the door himself to see you sitting there hunched over, looking up at him with puffy eyes.

-he assessed the damage first, scanning the bathroom for anything sharp, any blood or a wad of suspiciously thick toilet paper shoved forcibly into the trash can. upon seeing nothing of the sort his eyes soften, seeing you in your fragile state. he never thought anything less of you, in fact he always thought you were so brave to be alive, to still be fighting after all you'd been through. you were a pair of survivors, people who bonded not only over trivial things like favourite band and your shared humor, but the experiences the two of you had gone through added an extra layer of understanding to the relationship.

-he sits next to you quietly, letting you take a breath before speaking, his voice softer than usual, and yet still with edges of his usual roughness, but he's kind. He looks at you, and you can tell it's taking him all of his energy to not to reach to your face, wiping away your tears and holding you in a tight embrace. he knew the drill, and his main priority was your comfort.

- "can I hug you?"

-it's a small thing, but it's enough to bring you back to tears as you nod shyly, too afraid to speak. you close your eyes and you can feel his arms wrap around you, holding you securely close to his chest, steady rhythm of his heart beating against your own chest like a metronome. steady, present, there. he's whispering tiny comforts to you, affirmations of his love and your worth, that everything was going to be okay. you lean into his touch, closing your eyes hesitantly as your head falls on his shoulder, hiding in the crook of his neck.

-he smells fresh, faint smell of laundry detergent intermingled with his pine shampoo, and something else; he smells like home, the smooth cotton of his plain black shirt on his thin frame under your fingers just adding to the notion of comfort, and your own sobs cant help but die down, calming under his soothing presence. you start registering his voice, his hand tracing soothing circles on your upper back.

- "it's okay," you hear him say, "you're going to be okay. it's over now baby, nothing can hurt you.. i love you so much... i wont let anything bad happen to you.. it's okay... you're going to be okay..."

-his voice drills a hole in your chest, striking a cord and unable to get it out as you struggle to catch your breath. He pulls away, making sure you see where his hands are clearly before cupping your cheeks, stroking away any stray tears. he examines your face soundlessly, giving you a chance to speak if you so choose. you study him right back; he looks tired, like he hadn't slept in a while, soft hair a very definitely natural shade of silver. He saw you revisiting the dark circles under his eyes with your own, and as if reading your thoughts he replies, "work has been a bit long, nothing else princess."

-you open your mouth to make a counterclaim, but he cuts you off gently, "I promise," he says, and yet you struggle to believe him.

-a small pause settles over the two of you, and you could see his sincerity in his words, mirrored by the gaze that falls upon you. sweet kind yoongi with his easily irritable self and cutting humor, his stoic side and his adorable smile which you swear could light rooms.

-did you really deserve him? how could someone as amazing as him be in love with someone like you? Even as you began to speak, you could already feel the guilt washing over you, shame at the notion of manipulation as you asked,

-“Why do you love me?”

-yoongi smiles, just the tiniest bit as he pulls you closer to him, kissing your forehead, taking your hand in his before responding, “why do i love you? ah well thats a complicated question with too many answers,” he looks at you, hoping to notice a change in your expression, but seeing no results he presses on, “I love you because you’re you, because you get up every morning and face the world even though its told you repeatedly to stand down,” he brushes a stray hair behind your ear as he goes on, carefully as to not set you off in some way, “I love you because even though you’re characterized by a mental illness thats seen as horrible and dark you constantly show up with your brightest smile and kindness in hand, and theres never been a day where being by your side hasn’t been a gift. I love you because of the way you’re attentive, how kind you are to complete strangers, your smile when you think no ones looking. the way you doodle in the corners of my lyrics sheet and fall asleep next to me at the studio when im up late working.”

-he shifts, fully facing you, tilting your chin up so you’re looking him directly in the eyes, piercing into your soul, trying to bring back any piece of hope you have to the surface, “I love you because theres that insatiable force pulling us together,” he playfully tugs on your arm, earning a teary chuckle from you as you look away, feeling the tears start up again. damn him and his talent with words.

-he’s just saying that because you asked him that

-your brain, a genius

-guilt courses through you at his words, a stab to the heart marred by the sweet tone of lies. this was manipulation. great. you’d manipulated your way to validation was an excellent girlfriend you were, truly inspiring. You feel the headache start up again, but yoongi catches you, placing his hands firmly where your shoulders connect to your neck, seriousness overcoming him as he cuts off your thoughts, sword at the ready, “I’m a logical person y/n, you know this, you say this to me all the time, and I wouldn’t have said any of this if it weren't true.”

-he searches your expression for anything, a twitch or a change, and is surprised to have you curl up in his arms, burying your face in his chest as you breathe for seemingly the first time since the conversation started, letting a full sigh as you try to clear your head, willing to pay anything to just believe his words. yoongi pulls away, hand running softly through your hair as he admires you. he slowly leans in for a small kiss, not passionate, leading to nothing, but just a kiss to let you know he’s there, and he’s not going anywhere and for now, just knowing he’s here is enough

-after what seems like forever of him holding you, the rim of the tub digging into your thighs, he presses a gentle kiss on your temple, intertwining your fingers with his before he stands up, extending his free arm to help you up. “come on princess, lets go to sleep,” is all he says.

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writerpeach · 6 years

Text

Jeongyeon's Taxi Service

Twice Jeongyeon

2.4k words

Categories: male reader,smut, roleplay

NSFW 18+

Yoo Jeongyeon was in an experimenting mood as of late, her newest kink was wanting to try roleplay, ever since the last music video, the thought of having a different persona was completely arousing to her. She borrowed the same car and outfit from JYP management, they didn’t really ask why, it’s likely they weren’t going to reuse it anytime soon anyways.

A makeshift red taxi cab pulls up to the curb, you head in the back seat and shut the door behind you.

“Where to?”

“Please Jeongyeon, have some manners, I’m a customer. Call me sir at least.”

Trying not to crack up, she puts a stoic look on her face and complies.

“Sorry, sir. Where to, sir?”

“Just drive around, it doesn’t matter where you take me. Try not to hit anything.”

Her eyes subtly roll back as does as requested, making a few passes around the neighborhood, trying her best to get in character.

The red cab comes to a halt as you end up right back at your living quarters, the car’s brakes squeak as Jeongyeon looks into the rearview mirror and speaks up.

“We’re here, sir. I got here as fast as I could safely.“

“Excellent, Jeongyeon. Would you like to come in for some coffee as my gratitude?”

“I’d like that sir, my shift is over anyways after this.”

The two of you make it inside, Jeongyeon takes her shoes off as you motion for her to sit down.

“Please have a seat, it’ll be ready in just a few minutes.”

“Thank you, sir. “

“You’re doing well Jeongyeon, keep going,” you whisper in her ear, flashing a smile at her.

Maybe it was that she was enjoying everything too much, maybe her older actress sister had rubbed off on her, but she really was doing a good job of finding her role. Her constant use of the “sir” title was a nice touch, it brought forth a level of power and submissiveness that was intoxicating, every instance of the word that left her lips sent tingles through your body.

You hear a loud ding from the electric kettle, signaling the hot water is ready. You head into the kitchen to grab two mugs, pouring the same amount of coffee in each one, as you hand Jeongyeon one.

She takes a sip of the hot beverage, and lets out a sigh of delight.

“This is really good sir, what is it?”

“It’s Columbian, I went there on vacation a few weeks ago and bought the biggest bag they would let me. It’ll probably last me the whole year.”

Jeongyeon finishes her cup, and puts it down on the coffee table in front of her.

“Can I make a request sir?” “Of course, Jeongyeon.”

“I’d really like you to fuck me, sir. I hope that isn’t out of line.’ “Not at all, Jeongyeon. I thought you’d never ask.”

The two of you walk to the bedroom, Jeongyeon in front, giving you a chance to glance at those long toned legs of hers.

Jeongyeon takes her chauffeur hat and throws it onto the dresser, running one hand through her light brown hair and ruffling it around with her fingers.

She cups the side of your neck and presses her lips to yours, her perfume intoxicates you as your tongues swirl around each other.

Your shirt becomes burdensome, you quickly dispose of it as Jeongyeon sinks to her knees in front of you, unbuckling your belt hastily, before you know it your leftover articles of clothing are down to your ankles, you step out of them and kick them across the room, your cock no longer feels encumbered by the crutches of clothing.

Jeongyeon moves closer and rubs her hands up and down the side of your thighs, she’s borderline drooling at the sight of your hard cock in front of her. She takes it in one hand and wraps her fingers around it, stroking it nice and slowly.

“You’re so big, sir.”

She doesn't waste any time and wraps her soft lips around your shaft, the warm magical feeling of her slippery mouth overtakes your senses, intense pleasure blankets your whole body as a long, deep moan escapes your mouth.

“Does that feel good, sir?”

“It feels fucking incredible, keep doing that.”

“With pleasure, sir.”

Before you can even take your next breath, Jeongyeon has you fully in the back of her throat, your head tilts back instinctively as you close your eyes for a few brief seconds, taking it all in. She sucks your cock slowly, purposefully, and then quickly, she switches up the pace at seemingly random intervals, ensuring you don't know what to expect next other than intense, deep fulfilling pleasure, watching that pretty head of hers bobbing up and down between your crotch.

She takes a brief pause from blowing you, pumping your shaft with both hands up and down, spiraling each one in opposite directions. Your hard cock makes its back way inside her mouth, one hand still stroking your length, while the other makes it way down and massages your balls, her wet tongue brushes along the underside of your tip

As good as everything felt, as gratifying as the view of her head bobbing up and down between your legs was still draped in that sexy chauffeur outfit, you needed to see that tight body of hers in all its glory.

“I've had enough of these clothes. Take them off, in thirty seconds I want you naked and bent over the edge of the bed.”

“Yes, sir.”

Moving against the clock Jeongyeon stands up and faces you, her pantsuit quickly comes off, her fingers frantically untie her tie and the shirt underneath disappears, with one hand she unsnaps her black bra, and tosses it in front of you. Her tits were nice and shapely, not big, but you certainly wouldn't call them small.

A modest pair of matching black underwear left is the only thing preventing access to that beautiful pussy of hers, Jeongyeon was more discreet than the other girls when it came to underwear choices, almost never wearing a thong, instead opting for a simple bikini cut.

Her fingers dig into the waistband of the black garment as she turns around and bends over, slowly peeling it off her hips gradually, exposing more and more of her firm ass and those succulent lower lips, the slightest patch of pubic hair was visible as her underwear hits the floor and vanishes with the rest of the discarded attire.

“Do you like what you see, sir?” she asks as her body reaches forward and her hands lean on the edge of the mattress.

“Absolutely. Your body is incredible, Jeongyeon. “

“Thank you, sir. Come give me a taste.”

You could have punished the girl for breaking character, generally you were the one who gave the orders but in the moment you didn’t care. You drop to your knees in front of her crotch, the sight of her splayed out, her delicious dripping pussy displayed right in front of you made your mouth water as you dive in.

Jeongyeon parts her legs to grant you full access to her body, you mark both sides of her thighs with soft, delicate kisses, she’s so sensitive that the slightest touch makes her tremble.

Grabbing onto her ass cheeks for balance, your tongue introduces itself to her entrance, flicking up and down carefully along her folds, painting soft strokes as you watch her reaction, making sure you were doing what she liked.

You lick around every part of her lower lips, tasting the succulent flavor of her soft flesh, you find her hardened clit and suckle on it, burying your face in between her soft thighs and eat her pussy out like it was your last meal, savoring every sweet drop of nectar that releases. Jeongyeon moans breathlessly as she reaches back to grab a handful of your hair, doing whatever she can to anchor herself.

“Fuck, you're so good at that, sir.”

You bring a finger inside as her tight pussy constricts around it, rocking back and forth before finding a rhythm. A second digit joins and you curl both fingers, twisting them as you penetrate her unrelentingly, rubbing circles around her swollen clit with your thumb and not before long you hit her g-spot, her slick walls tighten around you firmly, signaling that she was close to orgasm.

“C-can I-” She struggles to form a sentence, the bliss takes her over.

“Use your words, Jeongyeon. Tell me what you want.”

“May I cum, sir?”

“Of course, Jeongyeon.”

The tight feeling in her abdomen releases as her orgasm hits her hard, her legs begin to buckle as her whole body jerks, she clenches the sheets hard in front of as sweet, succulent juices flow out, completely drenching your fingers. You slow down your pace to help her ride out out her high, slowly withdrawing your fingers, her sensitivity almost makes her cum again as you bring your fingers across your lips, slurping your fingertips and savoring the bittersweet flavor of her juice.

“Please fuck me now, sir. I want that cock of yours inside me.”

“Stay right there, Jeongyeon. “

“Yes, sir.”

You line up behind her, pushing down on her upper back as her body forms a ninety degree angle. Guiding your cock between her thighs, you center it up with her glistening lips as you press against her tight entrance, you thrust inside gently as your head penetrates Jeongyeon’s slick pussy, she instantly constricts around your cock as wetness fills around it.

“Sink back onto me Jeongyeon, fuck yourself with my cock. “

“Gladly, sir.”

Her hips push against your body as she slinks back, enveloping her pussy around your hard cock, filling more of herself up with you, not before long she embeds your entire length inside her, filling to the hilt and gasping loudly.

“Holy shit, you’re so fucking big, sir. You feel so good inside me, sir.”

You let her fuck you for a bit before regaining control, grabbing onto her waist and giving deep, gentle thrusts, fucking that wonderful body from behind.

She’s so tight, so wet, every thrust inside sends ecstasy throughout your whole body, making you more and more breathless, if you really wanted you could cum inside her right then and there, but you needed to prolong and savor every moment of pleasure.

Your palms flatten against the small of her back, digging your nails in and trail their way upwards just above her shoulder blades, squeezing the area outside of her neck and pulling her body back slightly towards you, allowing you to penetrate deeper, continuously thrusting in and out of her tight, wet hole, finding the perfect rhythm.

Your right hand lets go and drops from her shoulder and maneuvers to her chest, grabbing a handful of her right breast and squeezing, rolling her hard nipple in between your fingers, the sensitivity makes her clench around your cock tighter.

“Fuck, that's so good. You're gonna make me cum again, sir. May I?”

“No, not yet, don’t be greedy, Jeongyeon. You can cum when I say you can. “

The rejection makes her whine, she's so aroused, so sensitive, so completely dripping and becoming wetter with every thrust, but she wants to do everything in her power to please you. You give one more long, deep, filling thrust before pulling out of her as she whimpers.

“Lay down in front of me, Jeongyeon. Wanna see that pretty face of yours when you cum.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jeongyeon takes a seat on the bed and scoots back, lining her hips up with the edge of the bed, laying flat on her back and spreading her legs, moving her long legs back towards her, hovering just above her stomach.

You reinsert your hard cock deep inside her entrance, simultaneously both letting out a gasp, you can feel the heat radiating from her center, both of you teeter on the edge of orgasm, but you need just a little bit more of that tight pussy, need to feel her wrapped tight around your cock, and most importantly you need to make her cum again.

You rest your hands on her knees and thrust into her deeply, your body slapping against her warm skin, she constricts again around your cock as your balls smack into her at the end of every thrust, she can’t take much more, pretty soon she was going to cum whether you let her or not, the least you could do was let her know she’s earned her release.

“Okay, Jeongyeon, you've been patient enough. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock. “

“Thank you, sir.”

Those words send a surge of relief, her walls clamp down around your cock, wetness pools around you as her hips buck and her moans grow the loudest they’ve been all night, you slowly bring your thrusts to a halt, helping her ride out her second orgasm of the night.

The force of her orgasm has sent you spiraling towards the edge of your own, you regrettably pull out of her tight hole, as you feel close, very close.

“Get on your knees. Open your mouth for me, Jeongyeon.”

“Yes, sir.”

She kneels in front of you, her hands to her side, she opens her mouth wide and sticks her tongue out, eagerly awaiting your hot load.

You give your cock a few more strokes and without warning, you hit the point of no return.

“Fuck, I'm cumming. Don't move.”

Your left hand holds the back of her head to brace yourself as your right one continues to stroke your cock, within seconds you erupt, shooting continuous streams of thick hot semen onto her warm tongue, you do your best to contain it all in her mouth, but a few spurts paint the sides of her mouth with white, sticky, cum.

She gulps your load down her throat, licking her lips before showing you her open mouth and tongue, proving that she has indeed swallowed every single drop.

"Was it everything you wanted, Jeongyeon?"

"Of course, " she replies, dropping the sir moniker finally.

"Let's try something different next time."

#twice smut #kpop smut #jeongyeon smut #twice #jeongyeon #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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bnhascribbles · 6 years

Note

“don’t come near me or i swear i’ll kill you.” for a character of your choice :) (if you really can’t think of one then use dabi hahah)

I didn’t want to take the easy route and pick a villain. So enjoy a new boi.

Hero

Shinso x Reader

Dialogue Prompt (12), Hurt/Comfort

Words: 1.2K

Warnings: None

You grip the “handle” of your improvised weapon so tightly that your knuckles start to turn white. The trembling in your arms wouldn’t be stopping any time soon, you’d come to accept that much. Still, you held them up, pointed outward and poised to strike. It was probably a pathetic sight– you, with your legs crushed beneath the rubble, waving around a broken bottle like it would do you any good against the would-be assailant that approached. But it was all you had, so you clung to it.

“Don’t come near me or I swear I’ll kill you.” You try to make the words sound menacing. The wetness seeping from your eyes betrays you, revealing the actual terror you feel the moment that he takes another step. “I mean it!” Your voice cracks. Not yet, you think. I won’t die yet. Thankfully, the figure halts before you have to make good on your promise.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” The voice is softer than you expect, but you don’t let that throw you off. The slender man raises his arms in the air and a part of your brain tells you to hurl the bottle at him right then. The rational part of your brain, however, realizes that this would do very little to actually fix your situation– it was still just a bottle, after all. You really were trapped. That thought alone was enough to intensify your shaking, which, much to your horror, he sees. “You don’t need to be afraid anymore.”

“I need you to drop the hero act and–”

Suddenly, you just stop. Your trembling halts and the tension in your fingers subsides. It isn’t a decision, it just happens– like you’re no longer in control of your own body. You still feel the pain and the fear, but now you’re helpless to fight it. If you could, you’d probably be sobbing right now.

“I’m sorry to do this to you, but I need to make sure you don’t freak out while I’m trying to help.” Too late, you think. “Drop the bottle.” And that’s exactly what you do, despite your mind’s cries to resist. Your only line of defense clatters to the floor and rolls until it’s far out of your reach. You’d expected him to rush forward and kill you while you were unarmed, but he doesn’t. He just stands there, arms in the air above him. Like he’s the one that can’t move.

“I’m going to release my quirk now,” He speaks slowly, “Then I’m going to see about getting you out of there.”

Suddenly, you regain control– if it can really be called that. Your breathing is ragged, made difficult by the combination of shock and pain that wracks your body. When you dart your eyes upward, you notice that the man hasn’t moved.

“I’m coming closer.” He pauses– like his statement is a question. ‘Can I come closer?’ When you say nothing, just peering up at him and shivering, he takes a hesitant step. You let out a little whimper and he freezes. When your noises stop, he moves again. The cycle repeats. It takes a long time for him to cover any real distance, but his unhurried movements reassure you to an extent. By the time he’s finally towering over you, you’ve already begun to believe that he actually intends to help you. You’re still wary though– largely due to your own inability to escape should the situation sour.

He drops his arms, kneeling down so that he can get a better look at the extent of your injuries. “Can you feel your legs? You try to wiggle your toes, and a wave of pain surges through them.

“Yes.”

He nods when you reply positively, looking pensive. Then he brings his eyes up to meet yours, and for some reason the gesture is comforting. You couldn’t explain it really– there was just something so genuine in his expression that you couldn’t help but relax a little despite the situation. Not saying another word, he begins to dig you out of the mountain of debris. There’s silence for a long while, but eventually, you speak up.

“What’s your name?” It’s an awkward question, especially given the tears that have only just begun to dry on your cheeks– but you were eager to distract yourself from the aching in your limbs, so you asked it anyway.

“Shinso.”

“No, your hero name.”

He hesitates, picking up a piece of concrete and tossing it to the side. “I don’t have one.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not a hero. Just a random guy that’s trying to help.”

It wasn’t that weird when you thought about it. You’d mistaken him for a villain when you first saw him– what with his dark clothing and stoic demeanor. He didn’t have much muscle either. He wasn’t scrawny, but he certainly didn’t look like he had the strength to pull people from burning buildings. But he was your savior right now, so you had no right to judge.

“What, you just prefer office jobs or something?” It’s a half-joke.

He chuckles, but you can tell that there’s some spite there– like it’s a touchy subject. It’s all too apparent in his blunt reply.

“No.”

You decide to drop the matter, and silence returns. Soon, the rocks and bits of building that once buried you are stacked in a pile at your side. Freedom.

“Well, you’re certainly my hero right now. Thank you.” Shinso stands, brushing the dust from his hands. There’s a smile ghosting across his features, subtle, but charming all the same. He’s got the face for this sort of work. Idly, you try to pull your knees up towards your chest, wincing when the pain hits you. He notices.

“Can you walk?”

You go to push yourself up, but almost immediately crash back to the floor. He rubs a hand down the side of his face, thinking. Then he squats beside you again. He doesn’t say anything at first, tentatively reaching towards your injured legs. He looks up at you like he’s asking permission. You nod, and he hooks a hand under your knees. His other curls around your back and awkwardly, you hook your elbow around his neck. He grunts as he lifts you, and you’re a little surprised when he manages to stand without too much extra effort. He was stronger than he looked.

Things didn’t add up– why wasn’t he a pro? Sure, he didn’t really have the persona you imagined when you thought hero, but neither did actual pros like Endeavor and Eraserhead. He had the quirk, the looks, and most importantly, the desire to help. Everything else could be learned.

“You should introduce yourself before using your quirk.” You vocalize the thought as it enters your mind, unconcerned when he shoots you a confused glance. “I mean, assuming you’re going to stay the ‘random guy’ that saves people.” He lets out an amused sound and you continue, “People respond better when they feel like they know the person helping them. You might even make some fans.” You’ve made one today.

He walks steadily, bright indigo eyes focused on some point in front of him. Half of his mouth turns upward into a smirk, but he doesn’t meet your gaze, even though you’ve been staring at him for some time now. Something rumbles deep in his chest, and it’s only when you see the quivering of his throat, hear the harmonious ring of his voice, that you realize he’s laughing.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

#bnha x reader #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #bnha shinsou #bnha reader insert #shinso x reader #shinso hitoshi #bnha shinso #bnha #mha #Requests #Anonymous #Dialogue Prompts

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the-prophet-lemonade · 5 years

Note

Hi, it's me!💍I've been rereading everything in anticipation of chapter 10, like I promised, and I was wondering about everyone's super names. In universe, I assume the vigilantes picked their own names, but what about the Idris supers? And how long did it take you to come up with theirs, what made you decide on certain names? Did you end up going back to change any halfway through writing?

hello darling !!!!! i’m very excited about chapter 10, i think it’s gonna be a good one :D

the super names were probably the very first thing i came up with after i’d decided on my concept ... so, they all came long before the plot and i don’t think they changed very much after i settled on them - but a lot of thought went into most of them so i’m happy to explain!

alec | sentinel: i wanted to pick something stoic and powerful for alec, but something that reflected his presence and his willingness to watch over people from above. the name represents his protectiveness and his enduring nature, reflects his role as a soldier and a guard, and also has angelic connotations (to tie into sh canon and/or jace being arkangel) ... lastly, the word sentinel also ties into a particular line from javert’s solo (”stars”) in les miserables that he sings on a rooftop edge in the movie and that is a Very Relevant song ok, you should look up the lyrics

magnus | nightlock: i went back and forth on a couple ideas for magnus’ name, but i wanted something magical and colourful and magician-esque for him. in my mind, nightlock is a portmanteau of “deadly nightshade” and “warlock” (although the “-lock” suffix could also come from “hemlock”) . deadly nightshade is obviously very dangerous and poisonous, and causes delirium and hallucinations (which is reflected in magnus’ ability to manipulate the world around him), but the main symbolism i wanted from it is the flower’s colour - that very deep, plutonic purple matches very well with the fic aesthetic. in addition, a little historical relevance: socrates was executed through consumption of hemlock for “questioning the gods” and entertaining ideas of political insurgency and the pursuit of justice so that’s ... also very relevant.

jace | arkangel: this was the first name i settled on for jace and liked it a lot, so stuck with it. it has heavenly and angelic connotations (obviously) and is a name imbued with a great deal of omniscient power (representative of jace’s op abilities) and some golden colour symbolism too. i chose the “ark” spelling rather than “arch” because i liked the harder consonant sound, it works better for jace’s personality. also, jace can fly lol

clary | muse: clary was the one i went back and forth on a lot when i was picking her alias ... originally, she was going to have fire elemental powers like johnathan, but i decided against it, because pyrokinesis is a very violent and erratic power, and whilst clary is unpredictable and scrappy, i don’t think she’s intentionally destructive. i think her artistic manifestation suits her well and is a very adaptive ability, which matches her personality better. aNYWAY the other names i considered for her were “firestorm”, “sunfire”, and “athena” but i went with muse to match her powers. also, it’s a single syllable so sounds better in tandem with arkangel (three syllables) considering they’re often mentioned together in the text and i think lots about rhythm and sounds!

simon | 8-bit: i wanted something super geeky and given the time period, the snes and the gameboy had just been released by nintendo, so nintendocore and 8bit music was becoming a thing! plus, as simon is a technopath, i wanted a name to both represent his powers and represent simon’s playfulness and naivety when it comes to superhero business hahaha my alternative choices for simon were “cyber”, “shockwave”, and “electro” but those were all too boring

luke | wolfsbane: i considered “sabretooth” for luke but there’s a pretty well-known xmen hero by that name, so i went with wolfsbane. again, wolfsbane is the name of a poisonous dark purple plant (like nightshade), so there’s a direct link to magnus there, which is highly relevant as the two of them have history and used to be vigilante partners in the 1980s (which we haven’t yet uncovered in the fic). there’s also another member of the xmen called wolfsbane who, funnily enough, can turn into a werewolf, much like luke haha

maia | veil: this is another one i chose instantly and has everything to do with maia’s powers. now, maia as a person is pretty abrasive and unforgiving and unapologetic and doesn’t hesitate to get physical if need be (e.g. punching jace that one time lmfao), so i wanted to give her a power the exact opposite of this feisty outward persona. i think maia is an intensely vulnerable person who puts up a lot of walls and thick skin around her heart to protect herself and hide her feelings, so i wanted her to have a power that was cerebral, but also one that tied into this vulnerability and her unwillingness to let people see her real self. so, that’s why she can manipulate illusions, and that’s why her alias is veil.

catarina | witchlight: i don’t know if this one has been said outright in the fic yet, but it’s in between the lines if you read close enough! we’ll get a bit of cat in the upcoming ch 10, but magnus/nightlock has already mentioned her both by name and alias in past chapters. cat’s powers are healing magic (surprise surprise) and her name comes from a type of crystal that glows in the hands of good-intentioned and good-hearted people ... very much in-line with the phial of galadriel/light of earendil from lord of the rings if i’m honest (and a giant nerd) ... witchlight as a stone is also found in sh canon! in addition, witchlight has this great simultaneous feeling of antithesis and parallelism to “nightlock” and i don’t really know why but they sound good together! there’s a sense of balance between their names, don’t you think?

dot | salem: another one like cat, you’ll have to look between the lines for this one, but she’ll be cropping up a bit more and has a very crucial role to play in a later chapter. this matches cat’s witch motif but with darker connotations (reflective of dot’s superpowers) when taken in the context of the salem witch trials and therefore has links to the fic’s themes of persecution. however, the biblical connotations of the name “salem” are to do with peace, so that’s nice.

lydia | apex: this one is very literal - the apex of something is the pinnacle, the top, the best. lydia is one of idris’ best supers and her power is super strength, so go figure

valentine | silver tongue: we haven’t seen valentine use her powers of persuasion yet, and they’ve only been hinted at (and it seems that johnathan is doing most of the grunt work, golly gosh i wonder why that is and what it means and whether it matters for a later part of the plot ... hmm). this one’s pretty straightforward too though: someone with a silver tongue is someone who is eloquent and persuasive at speaking, and valentine is known to be a good orator as we know. honestly though i just think of that simpson’s episode where lisa finds out jebediah springfield has a silver tongue and that has nOTHING to do with this so idk why i brought it up lmfao

there are of course a few others: ragnor, aline, helen, raj, and victor, but i haven’t named them ... i think aline has electrical/lightning powers, and raj can teleport, but i don’t think i settled on what helen and victor can do, so i just didn’t bother mentioning their aliases. izzy and raphael (yet to appear) are also supers but don’t have code names ... and i’m also curious what maryse and robert’s powers and aliases might be! there’s also sebastian/johnathan who does have an alias but it hasn’t been revealed in the story yet so ... no spoilers!

your note about idris supers is interesting and honestly i hadn’t considered it ... i imagine idris supers do get to pick their aliases but they’d have to be ‘corporate-approved’ by higher ups. lydia (apex) and alec (sentinel) both have very strong and powerful names, whilst clary (muse) matches her powers, and jace (arkangel) is an odd one because the name reflects his wings rather than his adoptive muscle memory, and obviously he’s been a super longer than he’s had his wings so i guess that’s just a plothole hahahaha (maybe he had a different super name before he got his wings and much to alec and izzy’s annoyance, decided to change his name after he got his new gear? who knows)

#fic: a cold night for good deeds #lucy replies #long post #OH MAN I WROTE A LOT IM SORRY

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unholyhelbig · 6 years

Note

Can you do the black Eye au (From Au ideas) where Aubrey is a self- defense instructor and Emily punches her right in the face during a lesson on confidence?

[A/N: Sure thing dude. Heads up, I’m very overworked and very tired right now so this is absolute shit! anyway, hope you guys have a great day!]

Emily felt like this place needed motivational posters. Not the kind that were outlined in black and had a scenic picture of the still water that backed a mountain top. They would talk about synergy and how to work in a company better. But this place was drab enough to need a couple of fluffy cats plastered to the wall. Hang in there, don’t furget to be awesome. She smiled at herself and pulled the t-shirt over her head.

“You won’t completely hate it,” Chloe said, pulling her sneaker into her lap as she struggled with the laces. They were discolored in a powdery terra cotta. She played a lot of baseball with a local league, which is exactly where she had seen the flyer for this course in the first place.

“It’s exercise, Chloe. I hated it before we started.” Beca said, her foot resting on the bench as she laced up her own joggers. “I broke a sweat getting changed. Is that not enough to appease you?”

The answer was a firm no. Chloe had an overbearing sense of safety when it came to people she loved in her life. It started with the little things: she would make sure Emily’s shirt was tucked in before she went to the office and leave little sticky notes on the mirror of their apartment telling her to be confident before a meeting. She had bought Emily a taser when she started taking the subway, and now she had convinced her girlfriend to join them for a lesson in self-defense. It was all because she cared.

“That radio station is sketchy, babe.” Chloe continued, tugging at the tongue of her sneaker before she shoved her foot into it. “I don’t like the way Ryan looks at you.”

“He’s my co-host on a radio show. You don’t know how he looks at me.”

“I gave him a background check when I hired him.” Emily defended, earning a hard glare from the redhead. “or, you know, totally can’t check for personality on those things.”

Emily closed her locker and got a raised eyebrow from Beca. She had been no help to the situation, but she couldn’t’ quite refuse the offer to a class like this. More like she was two drinks in when Chloe leaned close and asked her to take it with her. It was hard to so no to eyes like that, especially when her bottom lip jutted and began to quiver.

That’s how she ended up at the YMCA on her only night off during the week. The locker room was thick with the scent of floral perfume and pool water. “Let’s just give it a chance. I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

“You’re too hopeful, Legacy,” Beca said, slamming her own locker shut with a clang.

The training room reminded Emily of a karate studio that her older brother insisted on dragging her to when she still lived at home. He lasted about a week before he figured out, he wouldn’t’ actually be able to break boards of wood with the strike of his hand. It had the same squishy blue mats and could fit the three of them plus four more, which was a good start. Emily still thought it smelled like feet.

She rocked back and forth on her heels and didn’t exactly know why here palms were sweating as much as they were. Maybe it was the odd number of people in the class or the fact that Chloe had her chin resting on Beca’s shoulder as she tried to scold her into actually behaving for a forty-five-minute class for once in her life.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that Emily’s eyes met with the instructors almost immediately. She had seen her reflection in the mirror, attention caught by the shift of light. She was blonde, a stoic look on ever-tender features that seemed to soften when she lifted her eyebrows at Emily- still in the mirror, her fingers clenching a water bottle that had the YMCA logo on it, and Emily wondered if this was her full-time job or just something she liked to pass along. Either way, she had to be passionate about it.

“Alright, you guys!” She caught the rooms attention as she took perch at the very front, Chloe untangling herself from her girlfriend as she gave Emily a half-hearted nudge, lifting her eyebrows as if to say this looked more legit than a flyer at the softball field. “My name is Aubrey and I am your instructor in self-defense for the next couple of weeks. Can anyone tell me why it’s important to know how to defend yourself?”

Beca crinkled up her nose and raised her hand halfway, “Um, so we don’t… die?”

“Well yes,” The instructor cracked a smile and Emily thought that was about the most beautiful thing she had seen in the world. “Hopefully it would never come to that point, but in your worst-case scenario, it is a primal defense against death.”

Aubrey tucked her hands behind her like she was giving military orders and lifted her chin. “Women walk around constantly in fear. We can’t get to our cars safely anyone without shoving our keys through our fingers to use as a makeshift weapon. But today, I’m going to teach you guys something a little more effective. Krav Maga.”

Emily was trying to pay attention, she was. She had been instantly captivated by the stern looks that were thrown across the room at all the woman who surrounded her. Even Beca had quieted as she listed to the woman talk, which was a feat in itself.

“There are five steps when it comes to defending yourself with Krav Maga: Avoid, Prevent, De-escalate, defend, and then fight if necessary.” Aubrey looked around the room “Over the course of the next few weeks, I’ll teach you different defense moves. Today, It’s all about the open-handed strike.”

“Like a bitch slap?”

Chloe shoved her elbow into Beca’s ribs, earning a sharp exhale of air before giving her a pointed glare. Aubrey chuckled and that smile returned back to her face. The one that distracted Emily to no end.

“Kind of like a bitch slap, but it’s calculated. I’m going to need someone to come up here so I can demonstrate it.” She should have known that those orbs of green speckled with icebergs of blue would find hers. It was met with an almost teasing expression that made her press her legs together softly to quell the heat. Maybe it was the workout clothes. “How about you?”

“Emily,” Her voice broke like a teenager asking a girl to the dance.

“Right, Emily. Can you come up here with me?”

She nodded dumbly and realized with appt speed that Aubrey smelled floral and musky all at once. Like a tobacco pipe filled with fresh clippings of lavender. She almost forgot about the crowd of women watching her and the stupid smug look on Chloe’s face as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Right, so can I see your hand?” Emily nodded again and took notice in the giant floor to ceiling mirrors that her cheeks had reddened significantly. Her skin buzzed where Aubrey had taken her hand as she curled her fingers back and traced them along her heated skin. “A punch can do a lot, but it can also wind up hurting you more than your attacker. You need to strike someone with the base of your palm where it meets your wrist. Nothing above or below.”

She took a step back but continued to hold Emily’s hand. “say I was your attacker, you would keep your elbow lined with you rib and use a punch like motion to hit at my eyes, or my jaw. It works more effectively if you head for the eyes, though.”

Aubrey went through the motions a few times, guiding Emily’s hand in a way that would just barely miss her face as she angled it slightly away before she told the rest of the group to break up in pairs and try exactly as she had- without actually making contact, of course. Emily took note of Beca shaking out her arms like she was preparing for a noble war and Chloe rolling her eyes before steadying her position. Aubrey watched them for a few moments before turning to face Emily.

“What to try it without me taking the lead?” She asked, softly in a tone that she hadn’t used in the class so far. “I promise it’s not as intimidating as it looks.”

“Yeah, yes,” Emily said, squaring her shoulders.

She had gone through the motions like it was second nature, and that wasn’t something easy with someone like Aubrey staring her down with a prideful smile and a bit of a sparkle in her eyes. She ducked down each time, missing the way Emily’s palm thrust forward.

“Is this your first self-defense class?” Aubrey asked, “Because you seem like a natural.”

“No, I’m just like, this super kickass vigilante at night.”

“Is that so?” Aubrey snorted “Than what’s your name? Every great vigilante I know has a super cool persona.”

“White Thunder.” Emily blurted out with a smile.

“Is that because you’re super-fast, or?”

“No.” She deadpanned, “I’m just really pale, and kind of loud.”

Aubrey laughed and Emily decided that she liked the way her eyes crinkled at the sides when she did. Emily beamed and went through the motions, pushing her palm forward like it was second nature because at this point, it was.

She hadn’t accounted for Aubrey not moving back, or the loud sound that moved through the room when the base of her palm came in contact with the side of Aubrey’s face. She instantly pulled back and sucked in a sharp breath, moving her fingers to her mouth “Oh my stars!”

“Oh, ow” Aubrey hissed out, blocking the area of her eye as she scrunched up her nose and Emily stiffened. “Right in the face.”

“Aubrey I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“No, it’s fine, we’re fine” She moved her palm and blinked a couple of times, trying to regain composure. A deep purple bruise to the point of black had already started to form against soft skin. It made the color of her eyes pop and Emily’s heart twinge. “I just- have you always had a twin?”

“Maybe you should sit down.”

“Okay, yes, yeah.”

The instructor blinked a couple of times before she allowed Emily to lower her to the spongy mat. Aubrey was a good teacher, that much was clear, if Emily could shift her laser focus to dizzy, then any attacker willing to try something could easily be thwarted. The second thing Emily realized was how many eyes were on the two of them, still standing at the front of the class.

Aubrey put her head against the cool glass of the mirror. “I think the class is over for today guys, good work”

Beca let out something that was a mix between a laugh and a scoff, and Chloe couldn’t help the smile that was on her lips. The rest of the class gave sparing glances before resounding to shrugging their shoulders and going to the locker room that smelled too much like sweat and cucumber melon.

“I’m going to go get some ice,” Chloe said, biting back her smile, “Beca?”

“I don’t know where the ice is- Oh!” She narrowed her eyes at her girlfriend, who gave her a pensive stare “Oh, yeah. No, we’ll find it.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Emily pleaded, kneeling next to Aubrey as the woman pressed her fingers to her temple. She ignored the sound of the door creaking open and then closing a few seconds later. It left them in a start silence for a few moments.

“I’m good, White Lightning.” Aubrey moved her stare to Emily, despite the nasty bruise stretching against her eye, she had a small smile on her face. “Though, I should have known better going up against a superhero.”

“White Thunder, but nice try,” Emily said moving her cool fingers under Aubrey’s chin as she got a better look at the colors that overtook her face. “Oo, I got you good.”

“It’s not the first time, trust me.” She moved a breath into her lungs easily “It is the first time I’m going to make the person buy me a drink, though.”

“Oh really?”

“You’ve wounded me, Emily. The least you can do is entertain the idea of a whiskey.”

#Aubrey Posen #Emily Junk #Junksen #fanfiction #request #au ideas #Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale #Bechloe

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