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javier-pena · 3 years ago

Text

hubris

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Dieter Bravo is one of the nicer actors you know. That is until you drunkenly spill a secret that boosts his ego. Suddenly, you're trapped by his cocky smile and his daring behavior, and you'd hate him for it ... if he didn't turn you on so much.

Notes: I know I said I could never write a fic about him because of his name but this happened and well ... I was so obsessed with this idea I wrote all of it in one afternoon and couldn't stop until it was done. Hate sex is actually one of my favorite tropes but I was never brave enough to write it, guess I was just waiting for a character we know nothing about to project every character trait I could think of onto to make it work. As ever, HUGE thanks to Dani @javierpcna who encouraged this idea and who patiently waited for me to get over myself to write this. All the best lines in this are actually hers. I know it's probably less romantic than you wanted it to be, Dani, but Dieter is ... well ... Dieter.

***

His low grunts fill the small, closed set. You feel the sweat at the back of your neck, feel your shirt chafe your oversensitive skin, feel how your fingers dig into the clipboard in your hands harder than necessary. Not even the softest of breezes disturbs the room; everything that could interfere with the artistic process is shut out. And so is everything that could bring you release.

Your eyes move between his naked back a few feet away and the close-up of his side profile you see on the tiny monitor before you, his eyes closed with pleasure, his brow furrowed, his lips parted in expectation of coming release. The muscles on his back flinch and jump with each thrust, shift every time he moves his arms to pull her closer or push her away. His female co-star, currently on all fours, her hands tangled up in the satin bedsheets, her naked breasts moving every time he pretends to thrust into her, her …

“Cut!”

The director’s voice makes you jump, like the crack of a whip. Dieter stops, turns back to look at the both of you. His face is neutral now, like he wasn’t just caught up in the throes of passion, ready to listen to whatever criticism is about to be thrown his way.

“Angela, honey,” your colleague says with a deep sigh. “We need to hear you, baby, okay? This is the pivotal moment in the movie, do you understand that? You’ve been after Hector for years, you killed one of your husbands for him and left the other one, and you finally have him where you always wanted him. Let him hear how long you’ve waited for him. Let him hear how desperate he makes you feel, how debased.”

A flush creeps across Angela’s pretty face. “I …”

Dieter leans down and whispers something in her ear, something no one else on set can hear. You see her eyes widen in shock and then narrow in understanding, as she listens to what he’s saying. Then she nods.

“Ready?” the director asks, and they both nod. A sharp clap. You jump again. “Action!”

The small break should have given you a chance to compose yourself, but you missed it entirely, too caught up in the moment. You tell yourself you’re so distracted because it’s crucial to get this scene right, and not because you couldn’t stop staring at Dieter’s biceps that flexed as he leaned down to whisper in Angela’s ear. And you should’ve used that time, you know you should have, because what happens next makes you clench in all the wrong places.

“You like that?” comes Dieter’s voice, deep with lust, out of your snug headphones and right into your ears. “Is that what you wanted?”

Angela, trying to keep the pace, nods, and loses composure for a split second. But before the deafening yell of “Cut!” disrupts the scene again, Dieter’s hand leaves her hip and tangles in her long, blonde hair, rolling the strands around it a few times until he has a good grip on her. Her head falls forward in defeat and he pulls, so it snaps back into place. So the camera can catch the lust on her face, the same one you feel seething just under your skin, the one you’re certain is not acted at all.

“Do you let every man touch you like this?” Dieter asks, and you grab your clipboard so hard you hear it creak. No one seems to notice; they’re all too caught up in the performance unfurling before them.

“No,” Angela answers, a sound like a moan, and it makes your face heat up. Why is it so hot and stuffy in here?

“I bet you do,” comes Dieter’s voice again, as he pushes her head forward into the pillow. She goes willingly with a grunt, her back arching, her hips meeting his thrusts, almost like they’re both trying to chase some friction through the nude-colored underwear they’re wearing.

You swallow. Hard. You want to avert your gaze, you want to leave the room, but you can’t, no matter how tight your throat gets, no matter how sticky your clothes feel on your body. It wouldn’t be professional. But you can lower your gaze to the monitor in front of you, so no one notices how agitated you are, how hard and short your breath is coming, almost like small pants. But there, on the monitor, you see a close-up of Dieter’s free hand, reaching for Angela’s breast, and squeezing it. You let out a tiny whimper, one you pray no one hears, but you can’t help yourself. He’s making this impossible.

You hate him.

Dieter is one of the nicer movie stars you’ve worked with in the course of your career, nicer than most, anyway. He doesn’t have exuberant requests, he treats staff kindly, and rarely ever loses his temper. He is conceited, of course, aware that he’s good-looking, aware that both men and women have their eyes on him when he walks into a room. But this movie you’re working on, this story of jealousy, of murder and seduction and sex, seems to have been written for him, and it brings out this side of him that riles you up, that makes you forget you’re a professional, you’re the assistant director, and he’s an actor, trying to give his best performance so the movie will be a success. In your mind, he’s doing all of this on purpose to get to you, just because you admitted to him you once touched yourself to one of his earlier performances, a European movie that included a very graphic scene of him having a threesome with a man and a woman. You had had been drunk at the time, and both of you had already shared some secrets that evening, but you had regretted the admission immediately when you had seen the smug look on his face.

You hatehim.

“I don’t,” Angela moans, bringing you back to the present, and the scene before you. “You’re the only man that matters to me, Hector.”

“Liar.” His hand lands on her ass with a loud crack and she follows it up with an even louder moan that doesn’t sound acted at all. “You filthy, little liar.”

“I don’t –” Angela starts, but he flips her, suddenly, and she lands on her back, facing him.

He positions himself on top of her and pretends to thrust into her, hard, a motion she accompanies with one of her own, now perfectly in synch with him. And then his hand closes around her throat. Your eyes widen in shock, a perfect mirror image of hers.

“I know you use me,” he spits at her. “But this ends. Today.”

She tries to shake her head, but his grip on her is too strong. You see the muscles on his lower arm flex in the close-up on the monitor.

Why isn’t anyone putting a stop to this? This isn’t in the script; this can’t be in the script! The studio will never allow it. You want to look at the director, you want to scream “Cut!” yourself, but you’re too caught up in the moment, too busy imagining yourself in Angela’s pl–

NO!

Fuck no!

Dieter leans down and whispers into her ear, something that’s just meant to be heard by Selena, her character, but is heard by everyone on set thanks to microphones strategically placed everywhere. “Do the one thing you’re good at and make me come.”

His low voice, the intimate setting, her submissive whimpers – it’s too much. You pretend you’re not burning up, you pretend this isn’t sending jolts of pleasure to your cunt, making it clench in time with his thrusts. You’re here to work, you’re here to –

A shudder runs through him, and he stills, pretending to come, pretending to spill inside of her. And you turn around, mumble something about fresh air, and flee the scene, like the unprofessional coward that you are.

_______

Connie, Dieter’s assistant, is a sweet girl, but not the most reliable one. And that’s why you find yourself outside his trailer, much later in the day, next day’s script pages in a folder under your arm, knocking your fist against the flimsy door. When you were asked to take the pages to him, you were hesitant at first because you hadn’t quite been able to shake off the feelings the scene had evoked in you. They are still fresh, the images still playing on repeat in your mind. But it also gives you an opportunity to talk to him about today’s performance, to tell him he went too far, to impress on him how you won’t be able to use most of the footage. It’s your job to keep him, and everyone else on set, in line. After all, you have the movie’s best interest at heart.

“Yeah,” his muffled voice comes from inside and you take a deep breath before you push open the door.

“Here’s tomorrow’s pages,” you say once you’re inside the surprisingly spacious trailer, holding out the folder to him.

He’s sitting on a couch, a tumbler of whiskey on the rocks in front of him, a half-smoked cigarette resting in an ashtray next to it. He’s scrolling through his phone, a pair of reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose. You don’t dwell on the feelings of endearment this picture evokes in you.

“Just put them there.” He vaguely gestures at the table in front of him without looking up at you.

You do as you’re told, then stand up straight, hands folded behind your back. “There is also something else I’d like to discuss with you.”

He looks up at hearing that, seemingly realizing you’re not Connie. “Yes?” he asks, taking off his glasses and putting them on top of the closed folder.

Having his attention on you like that makes you lose heart for a brief second before you remember you’re the one in charge – you have to make sure this movie is good.

“It’s about today’s scene,” you let him know, your voice all business.

“Yeah?” A smirk creeps onto his face. “Did you like it?”

There it is again, that familiar tug of annoyance you also felt this morning when he acted out of line. “No, actually,” you answer.

His smirk only widens. “Why not?”

“You know very well why not.” You cannot keep the exasperation out of your voice. “None of it is in the script. We will probably have to reshoot it because we cannot use it.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” you insist. “We won’t get any of it approved by the studio.”

He suddenly stands and walks around the small coffee table in front of the couch until he’s face to face with you. His smirk seems to be frozen in place, the sparkle in his eyes doesn’t bode well. “Is that so?”

You roll your eyes, slowly backing away as he comes closer. “You know it is. This isn’t your first movie.”

He follows your every step, and you know you should stand your ground, you know you shouldn’t move away from him, give him the satisfaction, but you cannot help yourself. The smirk still on his face is the same he wore that night after your drunken confession and it makes you harden, makes you want to shut him out, to humiliate him.

Then your back connects with the flimsy trailer wall and you realize, too late, that you’re trapped, that you cannot escape him.

“Why did you leave today?” he asks, curious, his head slightly tilted to the side.

For a moment you consider acting like you don’t know what he’s referring to, but then you say, “You were taking forever, and I had other things to do.”

He doesn’t believe you, you know he doesn’t when he snorts. “Were you jealous?”

A simple question, just three words, one that crosses the line between professional and personal. You need to stop this.

You return his snort. “Of what? You were acting.”

But god, did it make you wish you were in her place. You can’t get that scene out of your mind, already working on a plan to come up with an excuse to watch the dailies. But he doesn’t need to know that.

A low chuckle, one that makes goosebumps erupt on your arms. “Believe me, not all of that was acted.”

It confirms your suspicion, and that confirmation does make you feel jealous after all. You pull a hard mask over your features and make to leave, but he lifts one hand and firmly places it next to your head, blocking your way to the trailer door.

And then he whispers, in the same low voice you heard him use on set today, “Would you like to know what it feels like to touch me?”

Yes, it is the exact same voice, but you’re not hearing it through some headphones now, you’re hearing it unfiltered, with nothing between the two of you, and it sends a shiver down your spine. If you stay a second longer, you’re not sure you’ll be able to answer this question with a lie.

“Excuse me,” you say with all the professionalism you can muster (which isn’t a lot) and try to push past him on the other side.

His other arm comes up, mirroring the first one, and you’re trapped between the wall, two strong limbs, and his broad chest. For the briefest moment, you allow yourself to glance at his arms, at the shirt that ends just in the middle of the biceps, the material hugging the muscles beneath, the same ones you were admiring earlier without shame, without embarrassment, and suddenly you forget you were meaning to make your escape.

“If I’d touch you right now,” he continues in the same low voice, the same unfiltered flirtation, “I bet I’d find you soaked.”

You don’t know if it’s him talking so unabashedly to you, you don’t know if you’ve finally found some courage, but you reply, “Don’t flatter yourself,” your face turned away from him like it’s beneath you to make eye contact, to acknowledge you’re in the same room together.

He lowers his arm at that, and you think he’s about to let you go, realizing he’s not getting anywhere with you, but then his hand is on your bare leg, making its way below the hem of your skirt. His skin is warm, his strokes steady, his broad fingers leaving a trail of burning desire where they touch you. God, you know you should push him away, but you can’t. You know it’s not professional, but you can’t tell him to stop. You know this isn’t who you are, but you can’t bring yourself to …

You move as his hand reaches the upper half of your thigh, well past the hem of your skirt, but you can’t decide if you want to be closer or move further away, and in your indecisiveness, in that brief moment of indecision, two of his fingers end up right between your legs, pressed against your clothed cunt. Your breath catches in your throat; you’re aware of how soaked the fabric covering you is, how soaked it’s been since this morning, and yet you let him proceed, you let him find the truth behind his bold statement. Seeing his suspicions confirmed makes a broad grin spread on his face, arrogant, cocky. Your hand trembles with the desire to slap him, but you don’t because oh fuck! does it feel good when he presses his finger against your clothed clit and rubs it in a tiny circle.

He reads your thoughts on your features, in your body language, like you’re an open book to him. “If you want to slap me, go ahead. No need to hold back.”

You suppose you could, but your lust-ridden brain cannot find the willpower to raise your hand and do it. Your only way out of this, your only way to keep some dignity intact, is to act as passively as possible. All you need to do is to show him he doesn’t have any effect on you, no matter what he does, no matter what your body does.

No matter how hard the roll of his thumb over your clit makes your cunt clench.

No matter how desperate you are to moan, to let your eyes fall closed and give in to him.

Instead, you fix your gaze to an ugly TV screen behind his back and bite your tongue. And it works.

It works because he growls and pulls his hand away. The loss almost makes you whimper, but you feel a surge of triumph at the fact that you’ve won this little stand-off between the two of you. You relax, dare to take a breath, but then he quickly shoves his leg between yours, presses his thigh against your clothed clit, only your flimsy piece of underwear and his old sweatpants separating you. The pressure is hard, almost brutal, relieving, and a small moan does escape you before you can help it. It’s all the encouragement he needs to grab your hips and move you on his leg, up and down, and the pleasure you feel is too intense, pulling you under, threatening to sweep you away.

But then you have a brilliant idea, one that is sure to leave a dent in his confidence, to show him you’re not all that bothered by his attempts to seduce you. You mask another moan as a yawn and follow it up with, “Is that the best you can do?”

His face is impossible to read as he pulls away from you, and for one wild moment you’re scared you’ve gone too far. For one wild moment you’re scared you made him believe this isn’t doing anything for you, that he isn’t doing anything for you, because he is, and you want this to continue. You can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so alive, so willing to give in to another person, so turned on by a shared push and pull, a shared game of seduction. Your mouth is already open, an apology ready on your lips, when he fumbles with the cord of his sweatpants and pulls them down, revealing his cock, hard and red and leaking.

You don’t mean to stare, but you can’t help yourself. His cock is so thick you know the stretch will feel amazing, maybe even a little too much, but you like it that way. Your mouth is slightly open as you imagine what it would feel like to have him push up into you, to pull back out and slam back in, and you feel a spell of dizziness as you let yourself get pulled into the fantasy of being split open like this.

He catches you staring, of course he does, and the smug smile makes a return. “Do you like what you see?” he asks.

You shrug, your ears ringing with anticipation, your hands shaking with arousal. “I’ve had bigger.”

This is what finally gets to him. You watch as his eyes darken, you see his hands tremble, and you think, Good. This isn’t supposed to mean anything anyway. We’re just taking our frustrations out on each other. That is exactly what you need – a quick fuck to relieve some of the tension, to help you focus on the production again, to get him out of your head. And you guess he just needs a distraction from the scene he shot that morning, from not getting any release out of it. And that’s fine. It’s all fine.

He opens a drawer in a small cupboard next to you and pulls out a condom wrapper, holds it up in front of your face.

“Open it,” he spits, and you can taste the loathing in his words, in the air that brushes your cheeks. Whatever friendly banter or companionship there was between you, whatever connection you felt to him that evening a few weeks ago, is gone.

You take the wrapper between your teeth, and he pulls. His eyes never leave yours, his pupils blown wide, but his gaze is surprisingly distant. As soon as the wrapper is open, you spit the small piece at him in an act of defiance, which he takes with a smug grin and a shrug as he rolls the condom onto himself.

You take the few seconds that gives you to glance around the trailer, wondering how you’re going to do this, before he catches you by surprise and spins you around, flattening you against the thin wall. His hand is back under your skirt, but this time his touch isn’t a caress – it’s an impatient fumble, his nails scraping your soft skin, pulling down your underwear until it’s clinging to your lower thighs, stretching while he spreads your legs with an impatient shove. Then, with a grunt, you’re pushed into the wall, feeling it shake beneath your hands. Before you realize what is happening, he shoves himself into you, hard, impatient, his hand closing around your wrists. You feel him stretch you open, feel how he shuffles to adjust himself – you struggle, briefly, just testing if you could get away, but you can’t. You don’t stand a chance against him, and there is nothing left to do but surrender to him. He notices too, and with one final squeeze of your wrists, he lets go, places his hands on your waist, and begins to move.

The stretch burns every time he shoves into you with a grunt or a low sigh. It sounds so different than it did on set, hesounds so different, and for one wild, frantic, wistful moment you let yourself hope he was lying, that at least some of what you witnessed earlier was acted. And that this is the real Dieter, the one he doesn’t show to an audience of millions. But then all your thoughts narrow back down to his thickness stretching you open, to you clenching tightly around his cock. It’s rough and fast, a means to an end, not meant to give either of you much pleasure, and yet you could’ve screamed his name if you hadn’t been so adamant not to show him how much you are enjoying this. Instead, you take it quietly, biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from moaning.

“Well, you’re awfully quiet all of a sudden,” he pants somewhere behind you, close to your ear, getting three thrusts in before he finishes the sentence. “What happened to ‘I’ve had bigger’, hmm?”

The condescension in his voice makes you reel, makes you want to fight back. But your brain is so fogged with lust, so caught up in how good he makes you feel, that you only manage a weak, “I hate you, Bravo.”

His forehead connects with your shoulder as his pace falters, and then he bites down hard on the juncture between your neck and your back, surely leaving a mark. With a snap of his hips that makes the tip of his cock brush against something deep inside of you, making you see stars, he whispers, “Oh please, that feeling is very mutual.”

That confession makes you clench hard around him, as slick leaks out of you, coating the hairs at the base of his cock in a silky sheen. You’re so turned on you cannot form a single coherent thought, except for how much you need to come and how impossible it is – he cannot make you come, you won’t allow it. You will never hear the end of it if he does. Instead, you let yourself be fucked by him, waiting for him to find release, waiting so you can leave for the privacy of your car and finish yourself off where he can’t see you, your fingers digging into the mark he left on you, still slick with the desire he made you feel.

Your plan is destined to fail.

“I want you to come for me.” Hot breath ghosts your ear as he says it, pushing you even harder into the wall.

This is all you want, all you can think about, but you can’t give in. Instead, you press a cold laugh out of you. “Believe me, you’re not that good.”

But then his finger is on your clit. And between his sure strokes and the surprisingly gentle caress of your oversensitive bundle of nerves, you’re right there. Everything narrows down, everything tightens, as a whimpered, “Fuck,” escapes you.

He’s there, right next to your ear, his voice dripping with smugness. “Well, there you go, well done.”

You’re coming, you’re coming so hard the edge of your vision sparkles and your heart races and roars inside your chest. But still you whisper, “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” over and over again, not ready to admit defeat.

He puts a hand over your mouth, sure and steady and warm. “Shut up.”

That’s all.

That’s all until he comes with a shudder, a tremble you feel down your back and in your thighs. That’s all until you hear him pant, “Fucking hell.” Until he makes you take one final shove, and you wish you could feel his release coat your walls, wish you could feel it drip out of you on your way home.

He must never know.

***

[Part 2 >>]

***

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo #the bubble #pedro pascal #fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #i have absolutely no excuse for this #i just saw the earring and went feral #and so many of you wanted to be tagged!!!!#my heart is full of love :')

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theycallme-thejackal · 2 years ago

Note

We get lots of fics of Midge trying to move on by dating other dudes. I'd like to see one of Lenny trying to date someone else, but failing and returning to Midge anyway.

so that's my prompt lol

Pairing: Lenny Bruce & Midge Maisel Rated T Warnings: Mentions of Past Drug Use

This is so boring.

He used to not care. If his date wasn't funny, it didn't really matter. He could provide enough funny for both of them and just enjoy the ego boost of someone laughing at his jokes.

Midge fucking ruined him.

He's been on many dates since that night before Carnegie Hall. He's even slept with other women, but nothing has even come close to comparing.

He hails a cab for another very beautiful, very boring woman, and as it pulls away from him, he lights a cigarette and looks up at the sky. "Christ, Bruce, get your shit together," he mutters, exhaling smoke as he raises his arm to flag down another cab.

It's a miracle he remembers her address, but he finds himself standing in front of her door twenty minutes later, wondering if this is the absolute worst idea he's ever had.

It opens, and there she is, looking perfect as always. "Lenny," she breathes. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I?" He nods toward the apartment, and she steps aside, allowing him to enter before closing the door.

Lenny opens his mouth to speak, but she lifts a hand to stop him. "Kids are asleep," she whispers. "Come with me."

She leads him through the vaguely familiar apartment into a bedroom that is definitely hers. She opens the window and climbs out. "We can talk out here," she tells him through the opening.

He joins her, climbing through the frame. She sits on the window ledge, lighting a cigarette, and he stands awkwardly. "What's going on?" She asks on the exhale.

"I've got a little bit of a problem."

She lifts her brows. "Is it - "

He waves his hand. "No, I'm still clean," he promises. She offers him the cigarette. "I've got good and bad days, but...I'm clean."

Midge seems to visibly relax at that. "Then what's the problem?"

He takes a drag before passing it back. "I can't stop thinking about you." Her lips part in surprise. "I've been trying because I know we agreed to go back to being friends, but I am, quite frankly, having a terrible fucking time."

"Ever think you just haven't found the right woman?" She asks, lifting her cigarette.

"Actually the problem is that I already did find the right woman."

She looks up at him for what feels like an eternity. "Lenny...I still want to get married again someday. Maybe have another child. I still want to live on the Upper West Side and go to temple and have my psychotic family over for Yom Kippur."

Lenny nods slowly and sits on the stairs across from her. "I know I said all of those things weren't my scene," he admits. "But with you..." He sighs through his nose as he rubs over his mouth. "Midge, I'd walk barefoot over hot fucking coals for you."

"That's less painful than dinner with Moishe and Shirley," she half-jokes.

"Point is that..." He swallows thickly, the words getting caught in his throat. "The point is that I'm...I'm in love with you. And I'm really, really tired of pretending that I'm not."

She still looks wary as she says, "I don't want you to resent - "

"Never," he swears. "Midge, I just want to be with you."

Midge blinks back tears as she shakily lifts the cigarette to her lips. "So...all that stuff is back on the table?"

"Glue it down, baby. We're gonna do it all."

"I said maybe about the kid," she reminds him.

"Then we'll have a lot of fun practicing just in case," he jokes, and she manages a quiet laugh.

She gazes at him softly then before stubbing out the cigarette. "I love you too, by the way," she says as she stands, and he looks up at her as her fingers brush through his hair. "And I'm equally tired of pretending I'm not."

"Your dates boring, too?"

"It's like they're actively trying to liquefy my brain!"

He laughs and wraps his arms around her, pulling her down into a long-overdue kiss.

#midgelenny #midge x lenny #midgexlenny #tmmm fanfic #marvelous mrs. maisel fanfic #writing prompt #otp: more important than god #jackal fics #answers

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Imagine being Azula’s friend but secretly dating Zuko behind her back

One of the first things you and Azula bonded over was your annoying brothers. Azula told you how her brother had stolen one of her best friends away from her and you related to that. Your twin brother was none other than Sokka of the water tribe, who was also very popular with women. Most of the women you knew liked him, from Yue to Toph to Suki to Ty lee! It sometimes felt like you were the second attraction in a friendship and so you and Azula quickly became close over your shared frustrations.

Then....you betrayed her.

Well, betrayal is a bit dramatic but maybe not given how upset she'd been when Mai and Zuko started dating. You knew that had been hard for Azula to process. How difficult it had been wondering if her friends really liked her or just wanted access to her brother. So when you started liking Zuko you didn’t plan on acting on it at all. Then Mai broke up with him.

Zuko was around at yours quite often, whenever he visited the water tribe he stayed in your home and when you visited the fire nation he extended the same hospitality. So throughout the years, you just naturally got closer and closer until....it happened. You started hanging out just the two of you and these occasions felt very date-like until Zuko just outright asked you out. You liked him and told yourself one date was fine, what harm could a single date do? But then as you kept seeing each other and one date soon progressed into many many more you knew your time to do the right thing and tell Azula you were dating her brother was approaching.

However the idea of doing that idea terrified you. You guessed Azula wouldn’t take it well and didn’t want to lose your friendship with her because of your relationship with Zuko. You wouldn’t break up with Zuko just to make her happy but you also didn’t want to lose Azula’s friendship, so when Katara’s birthday arose you were fairly nervous. There was going to be a large party and all of Katara’s friends were coming...which included Zuko and Azula. You hadn’t been together with everyone since you and Zuko started dating so you had no idea how it would feel. The whole time you and Zuko would have to convincingly act like you weren’t a couple and not make anyone at the party suspicious of the two of you. So when Zuko’s ship got in you fixed your eyes on Azula and tried not to stare at him any more than usual. You greeted him formally and didn’t admire him as you usually would. You fell in step with Azula and decided just to focus on her. It wasn’t hard, you were best friends and very close...however fate was not on your side. You got seated across from him at dinner which felt like some sick punishment and struggled not to get lulled into conversation with him. It didn’t help that Zuko was in a playful mood. He kept making comments about the things you’d done on your date and then sending you sly looks across the table. When you met his eye he smirked blatantly and you lightly kicked him under the table. That only made Zuko chuckled and look adorable so you sighed and decided to just keep your eyes down the whole time to survive dinner.

However, Zuko had no intention of stopping his teasing. After dinner you set about preparing the party for Katara tomorrow and having sent Sokka, Aang, Suki, Azula and Toph on their assigned jobs turned to your job of decorating. You were hanging streamers in the living room when you felt a hand curl around your waist. “Need some help there?” Zuko asked moving closer and he leaned up over you to hang it. “I could have done that myself” you smiled turning to face him and Zuko shrugged “I know you could’ve, but then I wouldn’t have been able to do this”. Zuko gently kissed your neck trailing down to your collar bone making you sigh. “Zuko...stop” you said faint heartedly and Zuko sensed that smirking "I don’t want to and you don’t want me to either, I can tell by how softly you said my name" he smiled "it’s been so long since we’ve had any time together". Your skin erupted in goosebumps and a shiver went down your spine as Zuko pressed closer against you. But you knew how badly this could end if literally anyone walked in. So swiftly you grabbed Zuko’s hands and twisted your way out of them. You held them tightly in one hand so he couldn’t try and slink around you again and used the other to make him look at you "Zuko we can’t okay, not on this trip. God knows i want to, i’ve missed you too but there’s too much that could go wrong i’m sorry". Zuko sighed but nodded his head "don’t worry i understand". Zuko’s shoulders sagged and you knew your insistance on keeping this quiet was difficult for him. "Thank you for understanding" you said hugging him quickly "i know it can’t be easy for you and I appreciate the effort you're going to for me". Zuko smiled resting his head on top of yours "it’s fine, i’d do a lot more for you if you asked but promise me it won’t always be like this....we will tell everyone soon?". You gulped but nodded pulling away "i promise, i will tell Azula...soon!". Zuko nodded “I believe you” and let his hands drop away from you. Not a moment later Sokka and Aang appeared in the room making the two of you jump. “Zuko just the man we need! We were thinking of making an ice sculpture, fancy some fire bending?”. Zuko nodded “sure” and with a last glance to you left the room.

Hours later the party preparations finished you returned to your room which you were sharing with Azula for her visit. “Sokka made me blow up balloons” she said angrily “something about fire benders being full of hot air”. You smirked at your brother’s nerve when Azula’s next sentence wiped it off your face. "Also I think Zuko’s dating someone again" Azula said softly and you paused. "Ow really?" you asked and she nodded "he’s been spending a suspicious amount of time in the southern water tribe lately. Lots of visits which he claims are diplomatic but I can’t work out what he actually does here! He doesn’t know that many people and so it got me thinking, y/n do you think your brother and mine....". "No Sokka's still with Suki" you said shaking your head. Azula sighed “and it’s obviously not Katara, she and Aang are basically married, have you seen him hanging around anyone else? He doesn’t know many people so it should be easy to spot". You paused pretending to think but were really just trying to buy yourself time. "Honestly i don’t pay much attention to him when he visits" you said cleverly covering your back "but i will from now on and let you know". "Thank you y/n" Azula smiled. You smiled back relieved Azula didn’t suspect anything and let out a large breath you’d been holding for this entire conversation. You were now more than ready for sleep and got into bed hurriedly. You laid your head on your pillow and closed your eyes utterly exhausted.

"Goodnight y/n" Azula called and you nodded. You were very sleepy and after a long yawn smiled "good night Zuko".

You realised the name you’d said seconds after it came out of your mouth.

You froze

As did azula.

"Did you just call me Zuko...". You blinked "did i? I’m sure i said Azula". Azula was quiet for 2 seconds before she shot up "it’s you!" she cried "you're the one my brother’s dating!". "No Azula that’s crazy!!! We'd just been discussing Zuko, that’s why he was on my mind!". Azula shook her head "you're lying! I can tell by the tone of your voice! You’re the new girlfriend aren’t you?". You sighed "Azula i’m sorry i was going to tell you...". "I can’t believe you" Azula yelled and suddenly the door opened. "What’s wrong?" Sokka and Zuko asked bursting in “we heard yelling” and Azula glared. "You! Couldn't just have Mai huh? Had to take another one of my friends? How about when you’re done with y/n you try things with Ty lee?". "Ow she told you...." Zuko frowned awkwardly. "No i worked it out!” Azula spat “Y/n accidentally uttered your name because she’s so lovesick" Azula cried "you both make me sick" and she strode away slamming the front door hard as she exited the house.

After Azula left you all looked at one another unsure what to do or say next. "So...you two are a thing?" Sokka asked and Zuko paused "yes...is your reaction going to be as bad as Azula’s or can i go deal with her?". Sokka shook his head "go deal with her before she burns the village down”. Zuko went to move past Sokka when your brother put a hand to his chest "but come back and see me after, me and Katara will want to talk to you about dating our sister". Zuko surprisingly looked intimidated and nodded "I'll be right back". "Zuko wait i should come too" you called "this is as much my fault as yours". Zuko nodded "let’s go" and led you outside into the cold night after Azula.

You found Azula trekking in the snow and as she wasn’t in proper shoes you gained on her quickly. “Azula!” you called and she jumped. She looked around and glared “ow look the happy couple, how nice of you to grace me with your presence”. Zuko rolled his eyes “only you’d be so attention-seeking to make this about you”. “Attention seeking? Who’s the person who can’t form his own friendships or respect boundaries? No always have to date my friends, is it some weird way for you to gain power over me? A sad way to boost your ego?”. As Zuko and Azula went to square up to each other you stepped between them. “Alright enough the both of you! Zuko please go back to the house, i’ll handle this”. “But she...”. “Zuko please” you said sharply and he nodded “fine” and with a glare left. You watched him go before turning back to Azula. You’d been about to suggest you go home given that Azula was surely freezing out here in the middle of the night but Azula broke into a rant. "Everyone leaves me for him" she cried "Mai! My uncle! Mother! Even my father...after i was smarter, a better fire bender, more loyal and younger he still gave Zuko every little chance and only crowned me after Zuko literally ran away! When will i be good enough people don’t just choose him without a second thought for me?". "Azula i didn’t choose Zuko over you! Just because i like Zuko doesn’t mean i don’t like you still". "That may be true but this changes our friendship completely, it did with Mai! People always prioritise their partners over their friends so i’ll be second best once again". "Are you kidding?" you asked "Azula now i need you more than ever! Relationships aren’t when you ditch your friends, they’re when you need them the most! Who else are you going to go to for a break or a nice getaway? Who else is going to support and love you in only the platonic way a friend can? Who else can i complain about Zuko to when he annoys me or we fight?" you asked "they’re all things you need your friends for! Desperately and that’s going to be the same for me". "But when Mai dated him...". "But i’m not Mai" you smiled softly "Azula we are good friends, i won’t sideline you because of this. You mean just as much to me now as before i started dating Zuko". Azula huffed but you could see her melting. "So...how about we go inside, get some warm milk and talk a bit more about this huh?". You offered Azula your hand and she took it but she didn’t stop there. Azula threw her arms around you and hugged you tightly. "I’m partly doing this for the cold but thank you" she said softly "nobodies ever tried to make me feel supported when they've chosen Zuko, they just tell me to deal with it but you’re the first to try and reassure me and so i know you mean it, to still be my friend". "Of course" you smiled "you're my best friend!". Azula smiled and linked her arm through yours "i like that!”.

Zuko stared in awe as you and Azula returned grinning. "How did it go is everything okay?". You nodded "your extremely cool sister is fine with it". "Yes i thought this would be a great way to have an inside scoop on you zuzu". "She’s kidding i won’t talk to her about you...a lot". Zuko blinked "okay if everything's okay then i should go speak to Sokka and Katara, they’re waiting for me in the kitchen". Azula smiled "that’s a good idea, when you come back zuzu find me, i have some threats about what will happen if you hurt my best friend". You smiled at Azula and stepped to Zuko "good luck but don’t worry Sokka’s all bite, Katara’s the one to look out for but she has a big heart, just tell her how good a time we’ve had and you’ll be fine". "Good tips, any for my sister?". You smiled "Azula is one i have not worked out yet" you grinned "but i’m sure you’ll manage, you are the firelord after all". Zuko smirked and you patted his shoulder "after your appointment with my brother and sister and then your sister....you could always come find me in your room?". Zuko smiled "is that my motivation for surviving this?". You shrugged "you can think of it as that" and stepped away from him. Zuko watched you before sighing "alright let’s get this over with” he said loudly and strode towards the kitchen.

You turned back to Azula who raised an eyebrow at Zuko’s sudden confidence and she frowned. "Do i even want to know?" Azula asked and you shook your head "no". “Ow and don’t worry if I’m not in our room tonight”. “Euch Y/n!” Azula cried and you shrugged “what? I didn’t say why”. “I know why” she sighed before she smiled “at least I can have your bigger bed”. “Be my guest” you smiled, you had a firelord to get reacquainted with.

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mytheoristavenue · 3 years ago

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MHA Hanta Jealous!Sero x Reader-Envy

Sero gets worked up when you give a random boy your number.

Your quirk: Containment Bubble - You can blow very small bubbles of a medium strength force field for a small amount of time from your mouth.

You and Sero had been friends since middle school, having met in history class during the first year. Ever since, you both had only grown closer and closer, spending so much time together that even your parents became good friends. When you both got into U.A., it was a dream come true. You didn’t have a very powerful quirk, so you had decided to enroll in the general studies class and went on to become president of your class. Of course, Sero entered the first class of the hero course, and you couldn’t be more proud of him, and he you. The two of you had planned from him to become a great pro hero, and for you to be his agent, and now your dreams were finally coming into fruition.

Presently, Sero was walking through the halls of your building, on his way to your dorm. Every morning he woke up extra early to meet you at your door and walk you to class. Knocking on your door, he smiled, intently listening for the usual sounds of you scrambling to the door, but all he got was silence. He pressed his ear more firmly to the door, figuring that he just handn’t heard you. Finally, he heard a giggle, but it came from behind him, toward your common room. Turning around, he found you, standing with one of your classmates, vapidly giggling at what he was saying. Sero watched the two of you exchange objects before the boy walked away, leaving you in a lovesick daze. Sero cleared his throat, irritated. You shook your head, finally noticing him. He decided to pretend he hadn’t seen anything, hoping that maybe it hadn’t been what it seemed to be.

“Oh, Hanta! Sorry, I didn’t see you.” You jog around the funiture of the common room to meet him at your door.

“Good morning, Princess.” He smirked, gaining a confidence boost from having reclaimed your attention.

“Good morning.” you said flatly, pushing past him to get back into your room. Sero’s smirk fell as he blinked at you, almost hoping that he was dreaming. You always fed his ego in the morning.

“Pump the breaks;” He said, pulling the door shut in front of you. “Every day I say ‘Good morning.’ and every day you say ‘Oh, I’ll show you a good morning, FlexTape.’ Every day, not today?” You rolled your eyes at him, eblowing him back and reopening the door. “Spill it.”

“I hate you, you know that?” you asked rhetorically, collecting a few books and your custom Cellophane water bottle. You sighed, slipping back into the hallway and locking the door behind you. “I met a guy.”

“You met a guy?” Sero hissed, his fist clenching a bit.

“Yep, smoking hot. I fixed his laptop and he asked for me number.” you smriked, barely containing your excitment.

“And you just gave it to him?!” Sero asked, unable to beleive that you, his not-girlfriend, as Denki called you, would even enterain giving another boy the time of day.

“I did! Did I mention he was smoking hot?”

“Uh, yeah, I think you did.” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in a huff. You tapped his shoulder as the two of you began walking.

“Awe, Hanta, what’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy for me. You know I don’t have high self esteem, it feels nice to be flirted with.” you defended, adjusting the strap of your messenger bag on your shoulder.

“I am happy for you, but don’t I flirt with you enough? I give you plenty of attention!”

“Yeah, but I mean genuinely flirted with. Like by someone that actually likes me? Why are you so bothered by it anyways? It’s just one date.”

“A date?!” Sero suddenly shouted, stopping in the middle on the hallway, turning toward you with his fists clenched and chest puffed.

“Well, yeah? That’s why I gave him my numbe, so we could work out the details.” Honestly, it kind of hurt that Sero refused to just be happy for you. You never got upset when he got with other girls during your friendship, so what gives him the right. “Why does it even matter?”

Sero’s jaw locked on the left side as he avoided eye contact with you. “Because you already have my number. You should be going on dates with me!” Silence fell on the pair of you as you struggled to come to terms with the caft that he mauy actually have feelings for you. It’s possible that you waited too long to respond, as Sero turned away, deciding to walk himself to class, just needing to get away form you. Frantically, you reached out to him catch his hand, missing it by centimenters.

“Hanta, please wait!” Finally, you caught him by the shoulder, and in your haste, accidentally pressing him against the wall. Gently, you released a gust of air from your lips, encasing him in the largest bubble you could muster, much to his suprise. “Please don’t run away from me...” you whispered gently into his now stale air.

“(Y/N)... let me go.” Sero sighed, not feeling mentally strong enough to handle the situation.

“I’d love to go on a date with you.” You said quietly, capturing his attention.

“Really?” he asked, his head perking up form inside the bubble. You nodded, smiling gently. “Then why did you agree to go on a date with that other guy?”

Your gaze fell downcast and you rubbed the back of your neck for comfort. “I never thought you’d actually like me back. You’re so cool and you’re in the hero course with all these amazing people and I’m just...borning old (Y/N)...”

Sero’s eyes softened as a sympathetic smile sprouted on his lips. “Awe. Princess, you’re not boring. And I do like you. I always have. I guess I just never exprected to not have a chance with you...I underestimated you, and I’m sorry for that.”

“I forgive you.” you smiled taking a step toward the bubble. “Do you think maybe...you wanna do something with me tonight?”

Sero flashed you one of his signature smirks and step forward, pressing his hands against the surface of the enclosure. “I’d love to, dollface, but you gotta let me outta here first.”

Witha giggle, you prompted the buble to pop and release your new boyfriend as he took on the foot seperating the two of you, engulfing you in his arms. “I love you, (Y/N). I feels nice to be able to say that.” he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I love you too, Hanta.” As if with magic words, both of you began to lean in to share a quick, gentle kiss, only to be interupted by the tardy bell. Sero sighed, dramatically dropping his arms and slouching over.

“Come on, let’s get to class.”

#mha #mha x y/n #mha x reader #mha x you #mha sero #hanta sero #my hero academia #sero x reader

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miekasa · 4 years ago

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break up with your boyfriend, i’m bored

+ pairings: um… armin x reader…. but, spotlight on jean—just... read it to understand, please

+ genres and warnings: college au what’s new, fluff… you’re just going to have to work with me and trust me on this one alright

+ notes: free colt he ain’t do nothing wrong i just needed someone outside of their immediate friend group to blame i am so sorry justice for my boy colt and falco too

+ more notes: longer levi fic still in progress, so have jean thee comedian in the meantime

“I think I have a crush on someone.”

Jean crosses his arms and makes it a point to huff even louder than before so that you can accurately assess his annoyance at moment; going so far as to slump back into your not so comfortable couch to really sell it.

“And that is why you manhandled me all the way to your apartment on a Tuesday afternoon?” he asks, voice flat and eyes hooded.

You groan and roll your eyes. Jean’s eyebrows are pinched together with more judgement than confusion at your current state of distress when you sit next to him on the sofa, a knee bent in his direction.

“Jeanie, I don’t think you’re understanding the severity of my issue.”

“You’re right, I’m not,” he drawls, “But, please, do enlighten me. It’s not like I have an essay to write or anything.”

“I have a crush,” you reiterate, hands mapping out every syllable in your sentence, “On someone who is not my boyfriend.”

“I see,” he nods, but his voice remains flat, “And, pray tell, what exactly is my role in all of this?”

“You’re supposed to use your philosophical psychoanalytical bullshit to tell me what’s wrong with me and how to fix it.”

“Philosophy and psychology are two different disciplines.”

“They sound the same to me.”

“That’s because you’re a single-celled chem major.”

“I think it takes more than a single cell to study chem.”

“Oh, is that what they tell you guys, now?”

“You’re not fucking helping.”

“Yes, I am,” he tuts, “It’s called talk therapy.”

“It sounds like you’re just taking shots at me.”

“Best friend talk therapy allows for a few digs here and there.”

“Jean,” you pinch his arm. He flinches, and yelps loudly, immediately raising the affected arm to counter with a flick to the center of your forehead. You glare, the palm of your left hand covering the sting on your skin, but concede, “Well played.”

“Thank you,” he nods, “I learned from the best.”

“Okay, now that you’ve gotten your ego boost for the day, can we worry about my problem, please.”

He shrugs, crossing resting his left ankle atop his right knee, “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

“What exactly is the problem, again?”

You sigh, and lean your head on Jean’s shoulder, “I have a boyfriend—”

“We’ve been over that.”

“—and the person I have a crush on is not my boyfriend.”

“Okay,” he pauses, “Are you going to do anything about this crush?”

“Well, I… no,” you ponder, “I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” he repeats, “So, then why are you so worked up about it?”

“Because!... Because… I don’t know, it’s… wrong? I’m in a relationship with someone else—isn’t this, like, emotional cheating?”

“Maybe,” he says, “I don’t know a whole lot about relationship psychology.”

“Come on, Jean.”

He sighs, “I’m serious, I don’t know, (_____).”

You whine, sounds muffled by the fabric of Jean’s sweater where your cheek lay pressed against his shoulder. “I’m a horrible person, aren’t I?”

“You’re not, stop it,” Jean answers firmly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “You’re not horrible for having emotions that are difficult to work through.”

“Okay, then, I’m just a horrible girlfriend.”

“Maybe.”

“Jean.”

“Sorry,” he winces, patting your head for extra encouragement. It’s meant to be comforting, but it makes you feel like a patronized six-year-old, at best. It’s quiet for a while, with you mulling over Jean’s words, and him trying to pull you into the worst side hug in all of existence.

“Do you think,” you break the silence, “Maybe I should I break up with him?”

“Yes,” his answer comes too quickly, and much too enthusiastically.

You lift your head from his shoulder, unamused, but Jean doesn’t even try to hide the glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“You’re just saying that because you don’t like him.”

“No,” he pauses when he catches glimpse of the disbelief on your face, “Okay, yes, I don’t like him. At all.”

“Jean—”

“But maybe this is your subconscious telling you that you don’t like him either, and that you should, instead, go after your crush.”

“Oh, so now you want to use your psychobullshit on me?”

“If it means I don’t have to pretend to like Colt anymore, then yes,” he replies, a stupid, shit-eating grin on his lips.

You scoff, arms crossed against your chest, “You don’t even pretend to like him now.”

Jean shrugs, “I pretend to like him to his face.”

“No, you don’t,” you insist, “You’re probably the worst at it, in fact.”

“I’m not worse than Connie.”

“You called him an asshole. To his face.”

“Connie poured tequila on him.”

“Connie was drunk. You were completely sober.”

“Connie would have done it sober and you know it.”

You open your mouth to refuse, but the words fall silent in your throat. Connie probably would have done it sober. “Okay, fine, whatever, you don’t like him,” you wave away the subject, “Do you really think this crush is my subconscious telling me to break up with him, though? I mean—it’s just, crushes are kind of fleeting right?”

“Sure, but—”

“What if I break up with him, and then I get over my crush, and realize I made a mistake.”

“Then you learn and grow, and find a new crush.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he insists, “You’re beating yourself up pretty bad over this mystery guy—”

“—It could be a girl.”

“Is it a girl? Oh, is it Mikasa? Are you still hung up over her—you know I’m sure she’d make out with you asked. I think you both could relieve a lot of tension that way, actually.”

“You’re the worst person to walk this planet, you know that?” you sneer, annoyed by the smug grin on Jean’s face. So what if you had a tiny crush on Mikasa? Most people did, Jean included.

“Look,” Jean continues, “You and I both know you’re not a cheater, but you and I also know you’re just like Eren when it comes to things like this.”

“Just like Eren?”

“Falls too fast, too hard,” he clarifies, “I get the feeling you’ve had these feelings for a while, and that they’re not fleeting.”

You pout, and Jean knows that he’s right. “Okay, so say I do break up with Colt—”

“Which you should do, regardless.”

“—If we break up, then what? I still won’t know what to do with my left over grief. It’s not like I can just... go ask this guy out right away.”

“Yes, you can,” Jean presses, “In fact, you should.”

“No, I can’t,” you insist.

“Why not?”

“Well for one, I’ll look like a heartless whore.”

“You’re not a heartless whore for asking a guy out.”

“I am if I do it right after breaking up with my boyfriend.”

“Your internalized misogyny is showing,” he sing-songs, “Come on, you’re not a whore for doing what you want with a guy, you know that.”

“Okay, fine, not a whore, whatever,” you roll your eyes, “But I still couldn’t ask him out.”

“It’s the twenty first century, just because you’re a girl doesn’t mean you can’t ask him—”

“Not because of that, dumb goose,” you glare, “I meant because—it’s, well, it’d be really sudden and kind of… awkward?”

“It’s not like he’d know you just broke up with someone, unless that’s one of your conversation starters.”

You sigh, a hand on your forehead. “Yes, he would, Jean.”

“How could he possibly—oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mock, a heavy sigh leaving your chest as you resume your previous sulking position, head leaning against his shoulder with your right cheek squished against his sweater.

“(_____), I’m honored, but you’re not really my type. I’d be willing to help you get over him though.”

“It’s not you, you fucking long-necked pigeon, it’s Arm—,” you cut yourself short, hands clamped over your own mouth.

“Oh my god!” Jean all but screams, propelling his body away from you with just enough distance to extend his arm, finger pointing directly at your chest, “You like Armin!”

“Shut up!”

“You have a crush on Armin!”

“Shut up, Jean!”

“You have a big, fat crush on Armin!”

“Shut up! I said shut up, you pasty fucking giraffe looking ass bitch!”

“Oh my—okay, you have to break up with Colt, immediately,” Jean rushes, “I can’t believe this—if you think Armin wouldn’t go out with you, then you really do have the intelligence of a single celled organism.”

“What in the ever loving fuck are you talking about.”

“We’re talking about the same Armin, right? Armin Arlert, about this tall,” Jean raises his hand significantly lower than Armin’s actual height, “Studies astrophysics, follows you around like a lap dog—”

“He does not,” you scoff.

Jean guffaws, “Didn’t he take you on a tour of, like… the NASA museum for your birthday? With the super high-tech planetarium that people die to get into?”

“Actually, it was their headquarters, but it’s only because he gets special privileges for being an intern.”

“Didn’t he name a star after you?”

“Anyone can name a star after anyone,” you roll your eyes, “It’s really not that hard.”

“People do not fucking go to NASA and ask for stars for just anyone!” Jean screeches, hands flailing wildly.

“Armin does!”

“Yeah, for you!” Jean emphasizes, “Come on, do you think if anybody else called him right now and asked him to get a star in their name, or even just fucking take them to headquarters of the most renowned space organization in the country, that he would actually do it?”

“I mean, maybe, if like… Eren asked.”

Jean opens his mouth to refute, but freezes half way with a head-tilt and pursed lips. “Okay, yeah, maybe—whatever, doesn’t matter. What matters is that you need to tell him.”

“I don’t need to tell him shit.”

“You’re seriously choosing Colt over Armin? Who willingly stays with some greasy prick with the world’s most annoying younger brother, over a handsome, straight-A astrophysics student with a penchant for marine biology, and, like, really clear skin.”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t know Bertholdt was studying astro.”

“I wasn’t talking about Bertholdt.”

“It sounded like you were talking about Bertholdt.”

“I mean, Bertholdt’s got great skin, but it’s no where near as clear as Armin’s. He glows.”

It’s quiet again, as you eye Jean with a raised brow that’s all too familiar. “Are we sure that you’re not the one with the crush on Armin?”

“Shut up, you’re avoiding the point.”

“What’s the point, exactly?”

“That you’re in love with Armin, who is miles better than your current boy toy, so you should ask him out immediately.”

“I have a boyfriend, not a boy toy.”

“Ah ha!” he yells, “You didn’t deny that you’re in love with him—oh my god, you’re in love with Armin!”

He’s standing now, practically bouncing off the the walls at the revelation. You take to smacking him with the nearest pillow. “I’m not in love with him! I just—just really like him, okay!”

“Very convincing.”

“Shut the hell up, you’ve been pining after you know who for seven eons at this point.”

“You bitch,” he growls, “We’re not supposed to bring him up.”

“Well, you keep bringing up Armin!”

“We never established that Armin was on the list of he’s who shall not be named.”

“Well I vote that he should be.”

“Your vote has been vetoed,” he grins, “Look, I’m completely serious when I say that Armin is just as in love with you as you deny you are with him.”

“That sentence hurt my head,” you pout, resuming your signature brooding position.

“It’s okay, your single brain cell has been through a lot in the past fifteen minutes,” he pats your head again, earning him a glare that he simply chuckles at, “All it means is that you love Armin, and I assure you that he’s equally, if not more, in love with you.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so. Now, up, up, up,” he tuts, pulling at your biceps until you’re standing, only to immediately start ushering you to the door, “You have a shitty boyfriend to go break up with.”

“What—Jean, come on, I didn’t mean right now!” you exclaim; but he’s stronger than he looks, and continues to propel your body out of the open door.

“No time to waste!” he insists, “Every hour you stay with Colt you lose another brain cell.”

“I thought I only had one to begin with,” you say, sarcasm evident in your tone.

It makes Jean’s grin triple, “Exactly, so go, not another hour to waste!”

“Jean, wait, I—,” you begin, only to be silenced by the silver door shutting in your face. The lock clicks soon after, and it’s only then you realized what he’s done.

“You knobby kneed bitch, this is my apartment!”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #armin x reader #armin arlet x reader #jean smut #eren smut #armin smut #eren x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines

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beesparlour · 3 years ago

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dating scaramouche

scaramouche hcs

a/n: yes guys i know he’s murderous but i have a huge soft spot for him ok, i just love short angry men <3

• his love language is acts of service, he doesn’t give you big singular gifts, but he gives you small meaningful trinkets

so imagine your just sitting down chilling and scara just comes up to you and says:

“here.” scara said plainly, shoving a silk flower in your direction. you looked up at him, raising an eyebrow in question.

he turned away from you, embarrassed and said “i saw some on my walk and picked some for you, just take it before i change my mind,” he grumbled out.

you gently took it from his hand and placed it in your afro. grabbing his arm you pulled him down to give him a kiss on the cheek and whispered ‘thank you’, and gave him a sweet smile.

he blushed wildly, snatching his arm away from you and stomping out of the room. you caught his blush and just giggled fondly, he loved you.

he’s most definitely not a physical touch person but whenever you’re on him he just can’t get enough!!!

“scaraaaaaaa”, you whined, wanting attentjon from your boyfriend. his nose was in that book all day and he had not given you an ounce of affection. you flopped yourself on top of him, causing him to let out a surprised noise at your sudden weight. he glared down at you.

“what the fuck,” he shouted. but he made no attempts to move you, instead he put down his book and pulled you closer to him. he even nuzzled into your neck, his purple tufts tickling you.

y’all fell asleep like that.

he likes using your hair products

you always wondered why your camille rose was running out until you noticed you and scara’s hair was smelling a bit too similar🤨🤨

so you decided to test it out. he’d never let you just sniff his hair, unless you wanted your ass handed to you, so you made a plan.

the two of you were chilling, you were both sitting on the floor. scara was reading and you were trying not to stare at him, but you were. he was pretty but you were also trying to see how to formulate a plan.

lightbulb cue

“scara,” you called. he looked up at you in question. you grabbed his cheeks and leaned him into your frame, pretending to go in for a kiss. he even closed his eyes, poor thing.

before he could react, you dipped his head down and pressed his head into your nose, giving a long inhale.

“THE FUCK!” scara screamed and pushed you off of him. you were a wreck, body toppled on the floor with tears in your eyes.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” you wheezed out. “i was just trying to see if you were using my hair products!”

“you could’ve just asked me??” he said exasperatedly.

“you would’ve denied it!”

“…. true”

he likes staring at you

it’s mostly cause he likes getting you embarrassed, when you’re embarrassed, it’s an ego boost for him tbh.

sun was shining, golden hour was hitting and you were just shining you know as we do when it’s golden hour. and scaramouche was just staring. and you could feel it, you were purposefully ignoring it so he couldn’t see how it was effecting you.

he saw you squirming in your seat and fiddling with your fingers. and it just made it all the more fulfilling for him, he knew you’d turn around soon.

“stop”, you grumbled.

“stop what?” he said with the most shit-eating grin on his face.

“stop starin at me, you whispered, voice low so you didn’t sound pitchy.

“what? i can’t stare at what’s mine?” he whispered leaning towards you. you could feel your self heating up and turned away from him. but all he did was chuckle and grab your wrists, pressing a kiss to your red palms.

#genshin impact x black reader #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin fatui #genshin #kunikuzushi #balladeer

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badboyjuyeon · 4 years ago

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the set up

Pairing: Sunwoo x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Changmin tricks you and Sunwoo into going on a date.

“So what do you think?” Changmin asked while you sat down at the table, both coffees in hand.

“Let me get this straight,” you tried to recall everything he told you on the way to the cafe, “you showed a picture of me to your friend, he thought I was cute, and now he wants to go on a date with me?” You raised an eyebrow, wondering what got in Changmin’s head to set you up with someone so suddenly, though this wasn’t completely unexpected from him.

Changmin was your best friend since you sat next to each other in kindergarten and he has been trying to set you up with someone ever since. You can thank Changmin for setting you up with your first boyfriend Sangyeon, who broke up with you after a week because you stepped on his favorite crayon. Of course, Changmin only set you up with Sangyeon so he could sit next to Younghoon, who was his crush at the time.

“Both of you are single and he’s a great guy, super hot. Trust me, he’s one of my closest friends,” he tried to convince you. “Are you down?” He eagerly waited for your response as you took a sip from your coffee.

You didn’t see a reason to deny it, it’s not like you were seeing anyone at the moment, or have seen anyone for a while. Not to mention Changmin’s approval was hard to get, he disapproved of all your previous boyfriends. His judgment always turned out to be right because they all ended up breaking your heart. Your failed relationships stopped you from wanting to get out there but that never stopped Changmin from trying.

At the same time, you felt flattered that this friend of his thought you were attractive enough to want to go on a date. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t boost your ego.

But you still didn’t know anything about him. Or if he’s even your type. If you’re going to get played by a guy, you’d rather be played by a hot guy.

“Does this friend have a name, and what does he look like?” You tried to ask Changmin nonchalantly, though you couldn’t help but start to feel a little curious.

Changmin excitedly let out a squeal and pulled up a picture from his Instagram. “YAY! I’ll take that as a yes. His name is Sunwoo and he’s the same age as you. I met him at dance camp.”

He waved his phone in front of your face and you snatched it out of his hand to get a better look.

“SEE, isn’t he hot?” Changmin smirked because he already knew your answer.

To say he was hot was an understatement. He had a sharp jawline, full lips, and beautiful honey skin. You knew that Changmin had hot friends but you didn’t know that they were this hot. You still couldn’t believe that he wanted to go on a date with you. He seemed like someone out of your league, you never would have had the courage to talk to him first.

“And why did you show him a pic of me?” You asked, suddenly checking your Instagram feed to see the possible pictures that Changmin could have shown Sunwoo. Your last post could have been better.

Changmin sighed and pushed you off the booth to hide his panic because he didn’t know how to answer you. “So many questions. Just go get ready and I’ll text you the address.”

“WHAT? It’s today? You didn’t think to tell me that it’s today? That is not enough time.” You racked your brain trying to figure out possible outfits and whether you should shave your legs.

“Bye, go get ready!” Changmin nearly kicked you out of the cafe. While you made your way to your house to get ready, Changmin made his way to Sunwoo’s house.

“And why are you here?” Sunwoo asked upon opening his door.

Changmin pouted. “Can’t a normal guy just miss his best friend?”

“Sure, a normal guy can, but you aren’t normal. You didn’t even think to bring your best friend a cup of coffee.” Sunwoo playfully scowled, before moving aside to let Changmin in.

Ordinarily, Changmin would have brought another cup of coffee for Sunwoo, but it completely slipped his mind as he was busy convincing you to agree to the date.

“I brought you something better than coffee.” Changmin paused, waiting for Sunwoo’s reaction. But no reaction came as Sunwoo turned to walk back to his room.

“Can you guess what I brought you?” The older boy asked as he followed the younger one to his room.

Sunwoo turned to look at Changmin and pretended to think. “No.”

“Pretty please can you guess?”

“No.”

“Guess or I’ll leave with my better-than-coffee gift.” Changmin attempted to threaten him.

“If this is your dumb Chucky doll, then I told you already that I don’t want it. Give it to Chanhee or someone else.” Sunwoo doesn’t miss the slight blush that appeared on Changmin’s cheeks upon mentioning Chanhee.

Changmin dramatically gasps. “First of all, my Chucky doll is not DUMB, it is CUTE. Second of all, I already tried to ask Chanhee but he doesn’t want it, but that’s beside the point. No, it is not my Chucky doll, you wish it was. Guess correctly or I’m leaving.”

Sunwoo questioned whether Changmin really was the older one. “Well, you know the exit.”

“Okay fine, I’ll just tell you.” Changmin rolled his eyes at how uncooperative Sunwoo was.

“I showed my friend a picture of you and she thought you were hot. She said she wants to go on a date with you.” Changmin repeated the same story that he told you.

“She wants to go on a date with me?” Sunwoo repeated with a look of uncertainty. Changmin took a sip of his now cold coffee from when he met up with you just earlier before nodding. He pulled up a picture of you from your Instagram and gave Sunwoo his phone.

Sunwoo stared down in shock. “You’re not just messing with me?”

Changmin shook his head. “No, she’s totally into you. She’s super cool, source: trust me bro.”

Part of Sunwoo thought that Changmin was pranking him somehow. You seemed like the type of person that Sunwoo would have a one-sided crush on. He would only dream of asking you out. The other part of him considered whether he should believe Changmin. You seemed like a cool person and Sunwoo wanted to get to know you. There was also no added fear of rejection since you did ask him out first.

“Say yes or I’ll introduce her to Juyeon or Haknyeon,” Changmin added, knowing that Sunwoo wouldn’t want to pass up this opportunity.

“Okay fine, when is the date?” Sunwoo walked over to his closet to begin planning what he would wear. He held up two shirts to get Changmin’s approval.

“In a couple of hours, and the white shirt looks better with your blazer,” Changmin replied quickly.

Sunwoo stared at Changmin in shock. “A couple of HOURS? Did you mean a couple of days?”

“Nope, it’s at eight today. Get ready pretty boy.” Changmin smiled mischievously, before heading towards the door to avoid Sunwoo’s inevitable breakdown.

As soon as Changmin was in his car, he let out another excited squeal. His plan had worked! Changmin told you that Sunwoo asked you on a date and he told Sunwoo that you asked him out on a date. He did this so both of you would end up going on the date feeling cocky, each person would think that the other person liked them more.

Changmin was friends with both you and Sunwoo, though you two never met because you were in two different friend groups. Changmin couldn’t help but think that you two would be perfect together. He decided he wanted to play matchmaker because you two were hopelessly indecisive and would never make the first move. You both overthought every detail, you felt insecure because your past relationships were rocky and Sunwoo felt insecure because of his fear of rejection. That is why he composed a plan to get you both on the date feeling confident. You two wouldn’t have to worry about whether the other person liked the other, as you’ve both done on previous dates, and would just get to know each other. His plan was quite perfect if he did say so himself.

You waited outside the doors of the fancy restaurant that Changmin had made reservations for. You took out your phone to check your makeup and hair one more time. You took a deep breath and walked up to the waiter. You told him your name and waited for him to look you up in the system.

“Party of two? The first party has already arrived. I will lead you to your table.” You felt your heart pick up its pace knowing that Sunwoo was already there waiting for you.

As you made your way through the restaurant, you saw him first. He was already gorgeous on Instagram, but he looked 10 times better in person. You appreciated a man that could dress and accessorize. Sunwoo looked up from his phone and locked eyes with you. His eyes were so pretty, you swore you could see sparkles in them. You didn’t know why you felt more nervous in front of him. He got up from his seat to take out your chair.

“Oh, you didn’t need to.” You said while sitting down, but you couldn’t help but smile. How is he that fine AND respectful?

Sunwoo walked back to his seat. “But I wanted to.”

Changmin should’ve given you a warning, you don’t think you could survive a whole date with him.

A waiter approached your table. “Hello, I’m Kevin Moon and I will be your waiter for the evening. Take a look at the menu and I’ll come back in a few minutes to take your order.”

You and Sunwoo both nodded at Kevin and he left you two alone.

“Since we haven’t formally met, I guess I’ll introduce myself. Hi, I’m (y,n).” You struggle to get words out because of how nervous you are.

“Hi, I’m Sunwoo, it's nice to finally meet you. Changmin has told me so much about you.” Sunwoo brushed the hair out of his eyes, a nervous habit of his.

“Only good things I hope.” You responded, taking a sip of your water.

“Yeah, I was a little offended when he called you his best friend. I thought I was his best friend with how much he bothers me.” Sunwoo joked.

“Technically we’re bestie-in-laws. But you can keep him if you want. He’s always up to something.” He laughed at your response and you knew that you wanted to hear that laugh more often.

“Should we order?” You asked, remembering the menus in front of you. He nodded and you both took the time to figure out what you wanted. Kevin returned once again to take your orders and left just as quickly as he came.

With your conversation interrupted, you both tried to come up with something to talk about.

Sunwoo bit back a smile when he remembered that Changmin told him that you liked him enough to want to go on a date with him. Remembering this, he felt less nervous. He usually felt nervous during dates because he tried super hard to impress the other person, but he felt less of a pressure to do this. Instead of creating a fake personality, he decided he wanted to just be himself.

You both made small talk and found out that you shared similar hobbies. Sunwoo was so charming and you found yourself wanting to know more about him. It was easy to hold a conversation and you forgot about how nervous you were. The wait for the food didn’t even feel long because of how well you two were hitting it off.

“Did Changmin tell you anything about me?” He decided to ask.

“I heard that you met him in dance camp. You like dancing?” You said in between bites.

“I honestly joined because Changmin didn’t want to go there alone. But I’m not too bad myself.” Sunwoo admitted.

“That does sound like Changmin. He always ends up somehow convincing me to watch scary movies with him.”

“Changmin is always scheming. I wouldn’t be surprised if this date was a part of an elaborate plan.” Sunwoo rolled his eyes as he thought of all the questionable things Changmin had made him do. “That's why I thought he was pranking me when he said you liked me first.”

“He said I liked you first?” You raised your eyebrow. “He told me that you liked me first.”

Sunwoo tilted his head quizzically. “Something is not adding up.”

“Maybe you’re onto something about Changmin always scheming.” You put down your fork. “Now that I think about it, Changmin has been acting weird lately. Has he told you anything?”

Sunwoo stopped to think about Changmin’s recent behavior. “No, I just know that he’s been hanging out with Chanhee a lot recently.”

“Changmin always does find a way to talk about Chanhee.” You thought back to your last few conversations with him.

Sunwoo’s eyes suddenly widened as he pieced certain information together.

“Wait, do you know something?” You asked him.

“I think I do, but I can’t say for sure.”

“I’m 100% sure that Changmin set us up for a reason. I wouldn’t have questioned it as much if he set me up with a stranger, but a close friend is a bit suspicious. And now of all times? Should we put our heads together?”

“Ok.” Sunwoo agreed to your collaboration. “What do you know?”

“Well, I know that Changmin blushes whenever Chanhee is around so…” You trailed off.

You didn’t have to finish your sentence because Sunwoo already knew what you were insinuating. “Oh my god, that's what I was going to say too.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Are you thinking that Changmin set us up just so he can have a double date with Chanhee?” Sunwoo asked to confirm whether you both came to the same conclusion.

“That's exactly what I was thinking.”

You two burst out laughing.

“By the way,” he paused to look you in the eyes, “what exactly did Changmin say to get you to agree to go on this date?”

“He told me he showed you a picture of me and that you thought I was cute and that you wanted to go on a date with me.” You recited what Changmin told you.

His jaw dropped. “No way, he told me the same thing word for word.”

“So did you agree to this blind date because you thought I was hot or because you thought I liked you?” You decided to be bold.

“Um, maybe both?” He felt his cheeks turn hot. You were sure that your cheeks also supported the same shade of pink as his.

“Well, we have to get Changmin back. How about we plan the double date but end up ditching them so he has to deal with it alone?” You proposed. “Give him a taste of his own medicine?”

“You’re evil.” Sunwoo pretended to be taken aback. “But I am too so I love that idea.”

“Maybe we can ditch them and hang out together?” Sunwoo suggested.

“Only if it's another date.” You didn’t know where this newfound confidence came from, but you promised to thank Changmin for setting you up with such a great guy.

“It's a date.” He winked.

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mythiccheroacademia · 4 years ago

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A Dip in the Hot Tub

A/N: Sooooo, I wasn’t originally going to participate in kinktober in any way, but so many blogs inspired me to do something. Even if it’s one thing. So here I am sinning™️. I wanna start writing for haikyuu, so this is my experimental fic. I wrote it with my two favs so I hope got the characters somewhat right. I hope y’all enjoy this and happy kinktober <3

Pairing: Bokuto x Fem!Reader x Kuroo Word Count: 2k Context: You’re a volleyball player (you choose the school) that caught the eye of the Fukurōdani and Nekoma volleyball team’s captains. They’ve expressed their interest, but you don’t believe it. Now they’ve cornered you and won’t leave until they’ve convinced you of their feelings in a way you can’t deny.

All characters are 18+

Warnings: sexual content aka dry humping, fingering, threesomes without p*nis to v*gina penetration...but it is later implied, cursing

A Dip in the Hot Tub

The private hot tub was supposed to be relaxing treat. And it was. At first.

That was until you realized you were in the water with two insanely aggravated (read: jealous) men who had recently expressed their attraction to you. And your dumb ass only believed them after seeing their reaction when they caught Oikawa flirting with you.

You admittedly had an ego boost under the power you felt in that moment. Now, with Bokuto and Kuroo sitting across from you, displeasure in their gazes, you were filled with anxiety.

Or was that excitement?

You decided to stay on your side, legs tightly bound together.

“Uhh, so the first day of camp went well,” you said, attempting to make conversation.

“Yeah.”

“Sure.”

Wow. Okay.

“Tough crowd,” you muttered. You tried again. “Um, have any plans for the rest of the evening?”

“Not really.”

Then, it was crickets.

You nodded, giving up. You can take a hint.

“Okay, well, obviously I’m not wanted here so I’ll just take my leave—”

“No, wait.” You felt your body tense as Kuroo put his hand on your shoulder. His brown eyes were rigid, but not with anger. It was something more vulnerable. However, he looked away before you could decipher it.

“Kuroo…” you whispered.

“Stay. We didn’t mean to make you feel unwelcomed,” he said.

You stared at him for a second before looking over to Bokuto who still looked…emo…but didn’t seem to make any protest. Despite your apprehension, you let the dark-haired man slowly pull you back down into the water.

“Okay,” you breathed.

You hadn’t realized just how hurt they’d be. Your own insecurities made you believe there was no possible way both of your crushes were interested in you. However, that didn’t give you a right to mess with their feelings like you did. You were grown enough to know better.

Sucking in your pride, you apologized.

“Hey. Tetsu, Tarō. I’m sorry,” you quietly spoke. You looked down at your hands in embarrassment. “I was wrong to not take your feelings seriously. I just…I just couldn’t believe that you two liked someone like me more than a friend. Especially when I um like you two aswell. So, I’m sorry if that really turned you off. I wouldn’t blame you.”

What was said next totally caught you off guard.

“You really don’t understand how much we want you, do you?”

Your eyes snapped up to see a pair of golden irises closing in on you. You couldn’t get the chance to wonder how Bokuto got so close to you because the intensity of his gaze made you blank out.

“Huh?” you dumbly said.

His hands readily found your waist before running down your hips, fingering the laces of your bottoms before finding purchase on your thighs. “Even though I’m incredibly pissed off at you, all I can think about is how much I wanna fuck you right now.”

The way his eyes rolled down your body made goosebumps flood your skin and your pussy clench with desire. Bokuto pushed himself closer to you and you gasped at the feeling of his erection on your abdomen.

You couldn’t even comment before Kuroo came up behind you, placing wet kisses on the back of your neck. You felt his clear excitement on your back.

“I guess we’re just going to have to show you how much we like you, huh princess?” he said with a Cheshire-like smile.

You were easily feeling overwhelmed with four hands and two mouths feeling you up. You wanted it, but you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. You’d never taken two men at the same time.

“W-wait—I’ve never…I haven’t—”

“Don’t worry. We won’t go all the way. We’ve got you babygirl,” Kuroo whispered before nipping your shoulder.

Your words turned into putty as you finally welcomed Bokuto’s lips. Despite his past seriousness, he was soft and hesitant with his kisses until he felt your arms wrap around his neck. Then his confidence shined through. You were pushed further into Kuroo’s embrace as you deepened the kiss.

You felt yourself moan as his tongue passed through your mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored. He kissed you like he couldn’t have enough of your taste, swallowing down every whimper you gave. It was almost instinct for you to wrap your legs around him and you reveled in how he grinded his hips against you. You were breathless as he positioned himself so that he was right on your clit.

“Oh, Bokuto…”

“This is how you make me feel, Y/N,” he panted. “You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt about your legs around me.”

Bokuto’s hips continued to buck into you and it felt amazing. He was slow in his movements, his hips like sensual waves as he rutted against your sensitive nub. You moaned, hands latching onto whatever you could hold of his muscular back.

“You like that? Does it feel good, baby?” he exhaled. “Does it feel good when I pretend like I’m fucking you?”

You whined out a yes and dug your fingers in his hair. But just when you thought this was it, a pair of hands from behind untied your bikini top, letting it fall down your shoulders. Kuroo smoothed one of his hands over your breasts, teasing your nipples with his thumb and forefingers. The other hand squeezed your ass before his thick finger past your bottoms and into your slick folds.

The feeling of his fingers curling against your walls and Bokuto’s dick against your clit made your head fall back. Kuroo bit down on your neck and licked the mark before whispering in your ear, “All we’ve ever wanted was to make you feel good, kitten. There were so many nights I touched myself thinking of how you’d feel wrapped around me. So many nights I wished it were your pretty little mouth choking on my dick.”

He found satisfaction in how his words alone had such an effect on you when he felt you shiver. Meanwhile, you were on cloud nine. You closed your eyes and let a desperate whine drip from your lips as you felt Kuroo start to thrust against your ass. He then took his fingers out from your heat and lied them flat against your tongue.

“Suck,” he ordered, and you did just that, tasting yourself. A delicious moan vibrated through your body as he slowly moved his fingers in and out of your mouth.

It took a few moments, but soon, the three of you were moving in sync, chasing the orgasm you felt within their bellies. The closeness of it all was nearly overwhelming. Their grunts and moans were hot in your ears; one hand was in Kuroo’s hair while the other gripped Bokuto’s back.

“Imagine that we’re in you, filling your pretty holes up. So stuffed that you can barely tell who is who and god—you’d feel so good. Taking us like the good girl you are. So wet and hot for us as we fuck you until you can’t remember your own name,” Bokuto groaned.

Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. You were trying your best to keep your voice down, but the two men against you were not on the same wave. The white and black haired man gripped the flesh of your thighs to pull you closer as his thrusts got faster and messier.

Bokuto buried his head into your neck and moaned, “Y-Y/N, baby, I’m close.”

Close? You were barely holding on. If it wasn’t for that fact that Kuroo twisted your head to swallow your moans away, you would’ve been heard through the walls of the private room.

In your pleasure filled daze, you found it within yourself to slip your hand within his trunks and pump his dick. The extra heat from your hand and the way you stroked your thumb over the tip nearly pushed him over the edge. Kuroo let out the prettiest moan that made his face heat up. Gone was the smugness as he peered at you with desperation.

“Princess—fuck Y/N!”

You huffed out a chuckle.

Kuroo took his hand out of your mouth so he could wrap one arm around your waist and pinch your nipples. He began to urgently thrust in your hand as you pulled Bokuto’s hair back so you could also see his face.

You almost came on the spot as he gazed at you like a lovesick puppy, golden eyes begging for release.

Within both of their gazes, you could see the fondness they had been trying to express to you. That along with the overstimulation was enough to make your eyes prick with tears.

The feeling was all too much. Your stomach was coiled tight. One more thrust and you were nearly sent over the edge.

“Kuroo! Boku—ah! Oh shit!” you sung.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Bokuto growled. “You’re right there—ah! C-cum for us.”

He grabbed the ledge of tub and nearly slammed into you as Kuroo licked his lips at the sight of your open mouth gasps. The water sloshed back and forth, spilling over the edges with your movements. You looked so pretty with your tongue out and eyes fluttering between open and closed.

Kuroo’s hand wrapped around your neck and gave it a slight squeeze. “Let us hear you princess—“

Then it hit you. Your eyes blacked out from the intensity. “I’m cumming!” you screamed. A wave of pleasure shot up your belly and spread warmth hotter than the humid air throughout your shaking limbs.

It was weird how their bodies automatically followed yours. Your voices tangled in the air for a few seconds before all that was left were the sounds of your heavy breaths.

The two men slumped over, each taking a different shoulder to rest on. You leaned your head back and closed your eyes to steady yourself from that mind blowing orgasm.

There was a moment of peace as you three simmered in the afterglow. Then Bokuto broke the silence.

“Now do you believe us?” he asked.

He lifted his head and you saw that confidence of his shine behind rosy, cheeks. And although he was flushed from what occurred moments ago, his blush was more attributed to the rush of getting to be so intimate with you.

“Believe you about what?” you panted with a lazy grin.

“That we’re yours, duh,” he goofily smiled.

Kuroo kissed your cheek. “That is…if you’ll have us,” he softly spoke.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the incredulousness of the situation.

Both of them, huh?

You sighed. There was no use in denying their feelings anymore.

“You two always had a weird habit of sharing anyways,” you conceded.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist our charm!” Bokuto cheered. “Now let’s head to my room do the real thing!”

You choked on your spit. “W-what!? The real thing? Aren’t you two tired!?”

“Tired?” Kuroo chuckled. “You got caught up with two A-List volleyball players and you think we’re tired after this? You’re funny.”

You squealed in surprised as Bokuto suddenly lifted you out of the tub, bridal style. They began to cheerfully walk out the room ignoring the fact that you were completely topless. You scrambled to cover your chest and cursed the two out for laughing as if someone wouldn’t see you half naked as soon you walked out of the door.

“Kuroo! Bokuto! If you dickheads don’t get my fucking bikini top—”

“Yeah yeah. You’ll be fine. You won’t need it anyways~” Bokuto chirped.

Kuroo nodded. “What are the chances that anyone will see us?”

“Uhh a lot!?”

“Welp! I guess we’ll find out!”

Just what the hell did you get yourself into?

#bokuto kotaro #bokuto x reader #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu smut #bokuto smut #kuroo smut #happy kinktober #ahh i'm so nervous #maybe i'll do a part two since i enjoy the thought of reader getting railed by these two captains

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years ago

Text

Fight For You (Ivar x Reader)

This is my contribution to @youbloodymadgenius 1k celebration! Congrats, love!

My prompt was: You had my curiosity. But now you have my attention. (Django Unchained)

Warnings: a smidgeon of violence, talk of premeditative murder of a spouse, some possessive!Ivar? my poor attempts at humor and flirting.

Words:3900

The talking of the other earls, jarls and king grated on Ivar's nerves. Instead of threatening to cut out all of their tongues and make a necklace of them, like he strongly desired to do, he silently reclined in his seat fuming. It was both boring and infuriating to listen to these lesser men squabble amongst themselves like children. But like Hvitserk frequently reminded him, the others needed to be included in the planning. Even if Ivar despised it.

So he sat back, pretending to listen to the others as they attempted to make a battle plan. Even if it was a piss poor attempt and honestly, laughable. He kept silent for now. For he had his own plan and when he felt he had given them enough time to argue, he would share what they needed to know to fulfill it. He never shared the full plan; he would never give another that kind of power and knowledge.

King Harald Finehair was the least incompetent of the warriors and since at least half of their heathen army was there due to him, many listened intently when he spoke.

"If our scouts are correct, our army vastly outnumbers anything the town has." King Harald placed both of his hands on the table, drawing the attention of those under the meeting tent to himself. "I say tomorrow we attack with our full force. If they barricade themselves in, then we burn the gate down."

"How great will our casualties be then?" Earl Liefson questioned, eyeing most of Norway's King with scrutiny.

"Did you not hear King Harald? We outnumber them! Those that die during the fight will certainly go to Valhalla to feast with Odin and Thor. Let us attack without fear or worry!" Jarl Haakon boasted, slapping a hand to his broad chest in emphasis.

This time Ivar did not try to suppress his annoyance. He rolled his eyes at the Jarl, practically biting his tongue to withhold a scathing comment. Looking to his left, he caught the gaze of his brother, Hvitserk, who at least was better at hiding his irritation.

There were many men that Ivar detested, many men he loathed. Jarl Haakon was most certainly in the top five. The man loved the sound of his own voice and any idea spewed from his mouth usually equaled in value to a pig's fart. At first, Ivar could not fathom how the Jarl managed to stay in his position of power. Sure, he fought like a berserker and thrived on bloodlust like many Vikings…. but he was a pompous, narrow-minded idiot.

Yet once the meetings started, plans being drawn for this great raid, Ivar figured it out.

It was you.

In the beginning, some of the other earls initially protested when Jarl Haakon brought you into the meetings; especially since you were no shieldmaiden, you were only his wife. But when he flatly stated either you came with him or him and his men left, their protests died down. Those very men were further silenced when King Harald greeted you warmly and welcomed your company.

At first, Ivar loathed your presence, thinking you were there just to satisfy your husband's ego, his continuous need to show off his beautiful wife. It was only after plans were finalized and Jarl Haakon looked down at you, his hand possessively on your lower back, that Ivar realized you were not there just to look pretty.

You surveyed over the "map" drawn into the dirt, eyes analyzing. Then you did the most unexpected thing. You critiqued the plan. Perfecting it in ways that even Ivar had not seen.

And the bloodthirsty prince could only sit back in shock and awe.

It was after that first encounter, whenever you were nearby, his gaze never strayed far from you.

Now, you stood silently next to your husband, focused on the plan being discussed. Instead of fully listening to the others, Ivar watched you. The way you bit your lower lip in concentration, the faint twitch of your right eye when someone said something you disagreed with, the quiet way you controlled your husband with a simple word or touch. It all mesmerized him.

What inflamed him the most was the few times your gaze would rise to meet his. The way you would peek at him through your lashes like a shy maiden, as if silently asking for his permission, then speak to the group of men. The power and intellect you kept hidden would be unveiled with your words. It was enough to make Ivar salivate every time.

Most women bothered Ivar with their whimpering or tedious nature, even most of the shieldmaidens made him want to plunge a dagger into them. But not you. You were not most women. Ivar swore on all the gods that you were a Valkyrie sent from Odin to bless him, to confirm his favor with the Aesir and his lineage tracing back to Odin himself.

Yet somehow you were married to that fool of a Jarl….and Ivar hated it.

"What say you, Ivar?" King Harald asked, drawing the prince back to the current conversation. The gazes of the other leaders weighed heavily once their eyes turned to Ivar, but instead of buckling underneath their inquiry, he thrived.

"I say why waste time and men? Let us lead a main force from the river like they expect us to do. A second force will attack from the north, hiding in the woods. My scout says there is a second smaller gate that their hunters use to leave the town. Because of its location, it is not well defended. Using that, there will be no need for a siege." He confidently explained his plan, looking around the meeting tent. A knot in his core tightened as he saw the corners of your lips turned upward in a brief smile and the bright gleam in your eyes. His plan was flawless, but seeing your approval bolstered his confidence, made him straighten further in his chair.

"Why did you not tell us about this second gate sooner?" An older earl demanded. His fingers tapped on the axe he wore on his hip, either purposefully threatening or mindlessly was yet to be determined.

The dark-haired prince rolled his head to the side, glaring at the man with malice in his icy blue eyes. "I waited until the information was necessary. If you sent your own scouts, they may have discovered it themselves instead of wasting their time drunk everyday we've been here."

"A second gate is fortuitous for us." King Harald interrupted before the earl could respond. "We will lose less men. I will lead the main attack with my men. Ivar will lead the second attack since you were the one who brought this information."

Ivar cocked his head for a moment then nodded. "Agreed." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jarl Haakon turn to you with a silent question in his look. Without hesitation, you give a single nod and your husband smiled.

"What are we standing around for then? We have Saxons to kill and glory and riches to earn. Let us prepare!" Jarl Haakon loudly proclaimed, making a couple of the earls chuckle. After that everyone began to disperse back to their own tents and warriors. Word would spread to prepare for battle the next day.

Catching Hvitserk's eye, Ivar motioned for his older brother to accompany him. Together, they walked out of the meeting tent and past groups of warriors, tents and cooking fires. The noon sun blared down on them, causing many to seek shelter under tents or tree canopies.

"What is it?" The flaxen-haired warrior asked, falling easily into step with his little brother.

Ivar hated how easily his brother could keep pace with him, while he stumbled along with his crippled legs and crutch. It was not Hvitserk's fault, but it was a resentment that Ivar still held nonetheless. Keeping his gaze forward, he grunted a vague reply. "I have questions."

"Ah." Hvitserk ran a hand over his mustache as he surveyed the camp around them. After a moment, he spoke up again. "Anything to do with y/n?"

Ivar snapped his head around to glare only to meet the amused look of his smirking brother. His upper lip curled up in a snarl but Hvitserk cut him off with a shrug.

"What? You're not as subtle as you think you are. You're lucky her husband hasn't taken notice of your…. attention."

"Shut up."

"Alright…. we are going to see her though, right?"

Ivar did not respond, instead he grit his teeth as he pressed on to his destination. Beside him, Hvitserk laughed but kept pace and any further comments to himself.

The two princes walked towards Jarl Haakon's tent. From observing, Ivar knew that the Jarl would be off with King Harald, talking to their warriors and finalizing their own plans. Without fail, he always postured himself to the forefront in speaking to their warriors, most likely to make sure his voice was heard just after King Harald and to boost his own ego. Even if his usefulness in making the battle plans was nonexistent. He was a warrior, through and through, but not a strategist. His value lied on his ability to wield his sword and axe on the battlefield.

To Ivar's surprise, you always retired to your tent right away after meetings. He witnessed on more than one occasion where your husband tried to convince you to accompany him, all to no avail. Oh, it was obvious your husband cared for you, but he also thrived on the jealous looks from others. His hand continuously rested on your lower back or around your shoulders, pulling you against him, dwarfing you with his larger frame. Frequently, he loudly proclaimed how he was gifted with a wife from Freya herself, making sure to steal a kiss as he laughed boisterously.

A coy smile danced on your lips but Ivar could see it hidden in the depths of your eyes, the annoyance and disgust by your husband's actions. You were a goddess on Midgard. That simpleton of a husband was not worthy of you. He should worship at your feet, begging for a moment of your divine attention. Yet, you were his lawful wife.

And jealousy threatened to burn Ivar alive as he looked on.

The son of Ragnar was further enraged as he approached your tent to witness no guards posted in front of it. How dare your husband leave you undefended? He was even more of a fool than Ivar thought.

With his usual arrogance, Ivar drew back the flap to your tent without calling out for your permission. As he stepped through, he could hear Hvitserk mutter something under his breath behind him, but still followed into the Jarl's tent.

You stood next to a short table on the far side of the tent. Your hair was out of its typical braids, catching the prince's eye. An image of him running his hand through your hair flashed through his mind without warning. With the cloth in hand and the shallow bowl before you, Ivar knew he had interrupted your cleansing.

"Prince Ivar," you started, dragging the cloth down your neck sensually before setting it softly into the bowl. "My husband is not here at the moment. Would you like me to send for him?"

"That's alright. It's you I'm interested in." He smirked as he watched you straighten further, a faint furrow between your brows. Your eyes continued to hold his, sending a thrill straight down his spine. He moved to the center of the tent, drawing closer as if magnetized by you. Leaning on his crutch, he tipped his head to peer at you. Lesser men would fear being alone with him, a Viking known for his bloodlust and cruelty but not you. There was no fear, no concern for safety in your eyes, only interest….and that amused and enthralled the crippled prince.

"I confess, I find your relationship with your husband…. peculiar. At first, I thought you were another pretty face, just another useless wife. But I see now, you are far more cunning and clever than you let on. Even now. Your husband is a fool, but he is intelligent enough to recognize he's need for you. So, I have been curious. Why are you still married to that oaf? I suspect there are far better suitors out there for you."

You shrugged, taking a couple steps closer to the center of the tent. "It was the gods' will, and he is a good man."

"He's an idiot." Ivar deadpanned. A muffled snort came from the direction of Hvitserk behind him but he kept his piercing eyes on you.

"Perhaps. He is still my husband."

"Mmm….and do you care for your husband?"

You glanced over at Hvitserk, who stood near the entrance, leaning against a pole casually, and then back to Ivar. For the first time, he saw uncertainty flash across your eyes but it was quickly subdued. "Why does it matter?"

He moved closer until he stood before you, the sound of his crutch muffled by the furs covering the ground. "He is always touching you, but you never reciprocate. You are…. complacent. Tell me, honestly. Does his intellect bore you? Is that why you run back to your tent?"

"Ivar…." Hvitserk said in warning, only to be ignored.

"Would you bore me?" You asked coquettishly, looking at him from under your lashes, making his heart race. "I find most men…. simple."

"I think you know the answer to that." His mouth curved in an arrogant smile. "Is that why you steal looks at me during meetings?"

"Or is it because I feel your eyes on me already?"

Gods, he wanted to touch you. As you stared into one another's eyes, a silent conversation flowed between you two. It was now he finally saw what he hoped for, what he silently prayed for. A longing lay hidden in your gaze that matched his own. An understanding. A hunger that bespoke of adventure and passion. The torturous desire was enough to drive him mad with need but he refrained. He would make you come to him though, he would make you touch him first to prove your want for him.

"Is this…. are you two flirting?" Hvitserk suddenly asked, shattering the revealing moment.

"No, brother. I would never flirt with a married woman." Ivar took a step back from you, feeling the space like a chasm between you two. "I think my questions have been answered." He turned around and started towards the entrance.

In anger, most people revealed their true selves. He had learned that if he could say the right thing, push people the right way, their true selves, their true desires would manifest. So he decided to see if the meek wife you portrayed was accurate or just a mask, if he could draw that longing out from you. He turned his head just enough to the side to make sure you heard his next statement. "It seems you are just another pretty face after all."

In the next step, the sharp edge of a dagger pressed to his throat froze his step. Shifting his head slightly, the edge dug further, almost piercing his skin. You stood just behind him, the dagger in your hand.

"I may not be a shieldmaiden but I am no helpless Saxon woman." You slowly, teasingly, dragged the dagger's tip further up his neck to his pulse point. The whole time he never removed his eyes from yours over his shoulder. The tension glided across his body, shooting a shiver down his spine. He wondered if the heated look in your eyes matched his own. If he licked his lips, could he taste the ardor saturating the air between you.

When you spoke again, it was with a low and titillating tone. Your breath brushed against his neck, the feeling of your body almost touching his- tormenting. His hand clutched his crutch with a white-knuckle grip, his self-control slipping away with each moment. "I always have at least three daggers on me…. would you like to try and find them?"

"I do!" Hvitserk said, raising his hand, breaking the tension. "I volunteer!"

You winked at Hvitserk before withdrawing the dagger from Ivar's throat and taking a step back. Ivar continued to watch you as your gaze met his again. "Do not assume just because you cannot see something, does not mean it is not there. I may look like the submissive wife but that is far from the truth."

To say he was aroused was an understatement. Spinning on his heel, he faced you, not even trying to suppress the hunger bubbling up within him. "You had my curiosity. But now you have my attention."

"And what does that mean, 'I have your attention'? Is there a prize?" You raised an eyebrow but the devious smirk betrayed your amusement.

"I always reward those who…. interest me." He shifted forward to gently reach forward and caress your cheek. A sharp inhale and the fluttering of your lashes at his touch proved his effect on you. Carefully, you tipped your head, leaning your cheek against his hand. Never before had he coveted you so strongly. His instincts screamed at him to take your hand and lead you back to his tent, to make you his forever. You were a free woman though; the choice was yours. He wanted you to choose him.

"You are too smart for that idiot. Leave him." He muttered, tracing a finger over the seam of your lips.

"It's not that simple."

"It can be."

You pressed a kiss to the tip of his finger. "And what will I do then?"

"You can be my woman!" Hvitserk declared, placing a hand over his heart.

You giggled at the harsh glare Ivar threw his brother over his shoulder.

"What?" Hvitserk asked in mock innocence. “You know I would share, little brother!"

"Hvitty, say another word and I will cut your tongue out."

The flaxen-haired prince rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "Both of you need to work on your flirting. I did quite enjoy the little display you gave us, it's been far too long since someone threatened Ivar. We could make a shieldmaiden out of you yet, y/n."

You stepped around Ivar to approach Hvitserk, much to Ivar's chagrin. He watched you give a quick peck on the cheek to his brother. Red began to color Ivar's sight, the tight grip on his crutch borderline painful.

"I could make you very happy." Hvitserk said with a flirty wink, making you giggle.

The innuendo did not go over both Ivar and your heads. You smiled though, walking back towards the center of the tent. "I'm sure but I would hate to take that opportunity away from all the other women since I don't like to share."

Ivar reached over and grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to him. The sweet smile lingered on your face but now directed at him softened some of his jealous anger. He cupped the side of your face, gazing down at you in something akin to reverence and longing. Silently, you placed your hands on his chest, staring up at him. He wondered if you caused his heart to beat or it beat for you.

"You fascinate me." He whispered, as if scared to utter the confession.

A sigh escaped you as you glanced downward at your hands on him. "If only we had met in another life."

"Leave him. He doesn't deserve you. You deserve to be worshipped and recognized. Not treated as something to be shown off."

"Perhaps one day." You lifted your eyes to meet his once more. "But I can't yet. An alliance relies on our marriage."

He nodded, running his tongue along his bottom lip. It made sense. That would explain how you ended up married to the foolish warrior jarl. Lifting one of your hands from his chest, he pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles, wishing it was your lips instead. Without another word, he started towards the entrance to your tent. His mind needed to process what it learned and how to best utilize that information for his plan.

Just before opening the flap, he turned back to you, surprised to see you still standing in the same spot but now rubbing your kissed knuckles across your bottom lip. Warmth and determination welled in his chest.

"Will you pray to the gods for our victory?"

A smug smile curled the corners of your mouth. "I always do, but it is not necessary for who can defeat Ivar the Boneless?"

He could not stop the grin from spreading across his face. "And do you pray for your husband's safety?"

"That I leave to the gods."

With one last heated look sent your way, he ducked out of the tent and back into the sunny camp.

"What now?" Hvitserk asked, walking beside him.

"I need to talk with King Harald."

"Ivar, you can't…. that’s…."

He stopped to round on his brother, a scowl directed at him. "She deserves better than Jarl Haakon. Do you disagree?" He spat out, his wrath directed at your husband blazing once again.

Hvitserk sighed. "No, but…."

"Then it's settled." Without waiting, he started in the direction of King Harald's tent.

Hvitserk rushed back to his side, falling into step. "So you'll pursue her after?"

Ivar kept silent, mind already finalizing plans on how to best dispose of your husband. The battle coming up was the perfect opportunity, as if the timing was ordained and blessed by the gods.

"You won't be the only one. You're not the only man to watch her."

Ivar sneered at the thought. "They will find themselves with my axe embedded in their guts if they even try."

"So protective of her already and she is still another man's wife."

Ivar turned on his brother but Hvitserk just sidestepped the dagger aimed at his chest.

"If it's the gods' will for her to be your wife then I will help you." His older brother stated with his hands held up in surrender. "You know this. Besides I think you found your match with her."

"She is…." The crippled prince started but his words trailed off. How could he adequately describe how you meant to him, how he longed for you, how he knew with you by his side he would be unstoppable and maybe for once in his life, actually happy.

"Is that Ivar the Boneless speechless? It must be love…. or the sun is getting to your head and you're going to be sick."

"Shut up." Ivar snapped but without malice.

They walked for a few more minutes in silence before Hvitserk spoke up again.

"It will be pleasant to not hear his irritating voice anymore in meetings. We may be able to find an earl willing to just kill him for us."

Ivar chuckled darkly. His thoughts returned to you and how he would willingly do anything to make you his wife. You were his Valkyrie, his goddess, you would complete him. Soon you would at his side, come death or Ragnarök, he would fight for you.

#vikings #vikings fandom #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #ivar the boneless #ivars heathen army #ivar x reader #hvitserk #harald finehair #youbloodymadgenuis1kcelebration #ivar lothbrok #vikings imagine #mzwrites

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mariacallous · 2 years ago

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As in all the best horror movies, at first glance everything looks normal. It’s a classic scene of the American autumn: campaign rallies outside community centres, battle buses emblazoned with candidates’ smiling faces, kids wearing badges and holding up signs, while TV screens fill with debates, punditry and an endless loop of focus-grouped ads. Even the predicted outcome of Tuesday’s US midterm elections fits a template as familiar as falling leaves. Most experts agree that the Democrats will take a hit, losing control of at least one or perhaps both chambers of Congress, because they are the incumbent party – and incumbent parties almost always suffer in midterm – and because times are unusually tough. Inflation, interest rates, petrol prices, fear of crime: they’re all up. Couple that with a president set to turn 80 this month whose approval ratings have often plumbed the depths, and all the elements are in place for the Democrats to take a midterm beating, losing ground even in states they once counted as solidly their own.

But look closer and you see something else. Because next week’s results will decide more than just whether the red team or the blue team takes control of the House of Representatives and the Senate, on which hangs Joe Biden’s ability to get things done. Next week’s elections will also help determine whether, and for how much longer, the US will remain a genuine democracy.

It sounds hyperbolic and that, too, is an American tradition. Candidates always tell the crowds, “This is the most important election of my lifetime” and plenty will have heard Biden’s warning, delivered on Wednesday, that democracy itself is on the ballot in that same spirit. They will have assumed that when the president said, “In our bones, we know democracy is at risk” it was so much campaign talk. But Biden was scarcely exaggerating.

More than 370 Republican candidates for some of America’s highest offices have joined Donald Trump in his big lie of election denial, either casting doubt on or wholly rejecting the legitimacy of the 2020 presidential result. That means a majority of Republicans running for those key positions refuse democracy’s most basic act: accepting the verdict of the voters.

It’s comforting to pretend they’re doing it solely to soothe Trump’s ego, to avoid angering him by conceding that the ex-president lost to Biden fair and square. Keeping Trump sweet is a necessary tactic in a Republican party where he remains the dominant figure, reportedly set to launch another presidential bid later this month, whose endorsement or disapproval is enough to make or break a career. But Republicans’ election denialism is not confined to the past; it applies to the future, too. Several of the party’s candidates have refused to say that they will accept the outcome of Tuesday’s vote should they lose. “I’m going to win the election, and I will accept that result,” is how Kari Lake, would-be governor of Arizona, puts it. Some might spin that as mere election eve bullishness, but without losers’ consent democracy cannot function.

More sinister still, several of these democracy deniers are running for the very state-level posts that will oversee and certify future elections, including the presidential contest of 2024. And they are brazen in their admission that they will abuse the powers of those offices to boost their side and shut out their opponents. “Republicans will never lose another election in Wisconsin after I’m elected governor,” is the promise of one Tim Michels, who seeks to lead that state – and it was not a promise that he would be popular. It’s worth recalling that it was in Wisconsin two years ago that a group of Republican office holders moved to ignore the democratic choice of that state’s voters, who had backed Biden, and instead declare Wisconsin for Trump in the electoral college. If they were to try that trick again in 2024, they might have an ally in the governor’s mansion.

If all of this seems too abstract, consider the Republicans’ new attitude to political violence. Once it would have been a matter of bland consensus that no political objective should ever be secured by brute force. But only a handful of Republicans could bring themselves to hold even that fundamental position following the storming of Capitol Hill and the attempted insurrection of 6 January 2021. The rest refused to vote for the impeachment of Trump for his role in fomenting that violence and, if they condemned the rioters themselves, it was usually in terms qualified and mealy-mouthed.

We’ve seen it again in the last week, after the vicious assault in his home of the 82-year-old husband of House speaker Nancy Pelosi. Paul Pelosi had his skull fractured with a hammer, the alleged assailant a man whose head had been filled with far-right shibboleths including the supposedly stolen election of 2020. And yet the likes of Lake saw the attack as a laughing matter, while other Republicans (and their ally Elon Musk) concocted or spread conspiracy theories that cast doubt on the attack. This in an era when recorded threats against members of Congress rose tenfold in the five years after Trump was elected in 2016.

The Republican party’s shift away from democratic norms is no longer confined to one man, even if he embodies it and accelerates it. It is embedded in the ethos of the party now. Reversing that trend is a daunting prospect because of another shift, one that has been apparent for a while but which is taking especially vivid form in these midterm elections. It is the polarisation of information, so that Americans now exist in two distinct spheres of knowledge, each one barely touching the other.

I witnessed it for myself this week, as I covered an especially intense senate race in Georgia. News came that, in a previous age, would have been devastating for a candidate. A second woman stepped forward to say, on camera, that the staunchly anti-abortion Republican Herschel Walker had pressured her to have an abortion and had paid for it. Yet when I put that news to Republicans gathering at a Walker rally in Madison, not one of them was fazed by it. They just assumed it was the false concoction of the “mainstream media”.

This poses its own danger for democracy. Because there can be no collective decision-making – which is what democracy amounts to – without a collective, agreed-upon basis of facts. If we can’t first agree that the house is on fire, we can’t begin to talk about putting out the flames.

Whatever the outcome on Tuesday and in the long days of counting that may follow, this is a moment of peril for the United States. The world’s most powerful democracy is losing the reflexes and habits that make democracy possible. And, as in all the most terrifying horror movies, the threat is coming from inside the house.

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yamag00ps · 4 years ago

Text

the morning after

pairing: yamaguchi x reader

genre: best friends to lovers

contains: even more fluff, slightly suggestive/nsfw

word count: 1.8k

summary: yamaguchi already cannot get enough of you and tries to keep you from leaving your room (as long you'll let him, of course)

note: surprise! I truly did not plan on writing a part 2 to this but I'm happy with the way it turned out. here’s part 1. p.s. I listened to theme of ms. okudera from the your name soundtrack the entire time I wrote this and I highly suggest playing it in the background while reading it b/c I think it makes everything sweeter :-)

You woke to the sweet sound of birds chirping and the feel of an arm draped over your bare waist, his grip just as tight as the first time he held you — as if he was afraid he’d lose you if he lightened his hold on you even a little. A soft orange glow painted the room as you replayed the night before in your head. Evidence of the newfound intimacy you’ve found with your best friend appeared in the purple marks scattered on your neck and your chest, he had a few of his own as well. His head lay on your chest and you smiled at his light snores, your fingers brushing through his hair.

Tilting your head to get a better look at him, you stared in adoration still having a hard time grasping the turn of events. You can’t remember ever feeling so content in your life.

You thought back to last night when you opened your door to find exactly who you were leaving your room for at 3am in the first place. You hadn’t planned on confessing though. You just couldn’t sleep and decided to go bother your best friend. He beat you to it, but he didn’t know that. As if on cue, Yamaguchi stirred and pulled you closer.

“Hi sleepyhead,” you whispered.

“Mmm. What time is it?” he groaned and shifted his position so he could bury his face into your neck, not wanting to face the new day yet.

“Too early. I think we only slept for like 3 hours.” You closed your eyes again and continued to massage his head with one hand, the other hand rubbing the arm wrapped around you.

“Hm, I wonder why,” he mused. You rolled your eyes and lightly smacked his arm. He chuckled and lazily peppered kisses onto your neck.

“Hey! This is your fault Mr. Pacing-outside-of-my-room-at-3am.”

“Shhhhhhhhh,” He put a finger over your lips in a shushing motion. You giggled and lightly bit his finger. “No more biting,” he mumbled, “only I can do that.”

Your laugh turned into a groan as you said, “Actually no, you can’t. No more from you. God, I don’t know how I’m gonna hide these from everyon--”

“Then don’t,” you felt him grin against your neck as his arm returned to its place around your waist.

“Tadashi, I’m serious!” You pouted and smacked his arm again, though you couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto your face.

“So am I!” he laughed and lifted himself up onto his forearms, moving to hover over you. Yamaguchi was never one to be openly possessive over you, but he couldn’t deny the ego-boost he got just from knowing he was the one to leave those marks on you. He finally opened his eyes fully, and boy was he happy he did. Seeing your dreamy state with your bed hair sprawled out onto the pillow felt like a dream. You looked so delicate under him, he was almost afraid to put any of his weight on you.

You rubbed the sides of his arms as he studied you, taking the time to memorize every detail in front of him for future reference (not like he’d ever forget). A blush crept onto your cheeks as his eyes roamed over every one of your features. His eyes trailed from your eyes, to your nose, to your lips, then down to your neck and your chest currently littered with the bruises he left.

“Wait, do they hurt?” he frowned a bit, lightly touching them. You jokingly hissed at his touch, pretending to shy away in pain. The second you noticed the horror on his face you laughed loudly. “I’m just kidding!” you said between laughs while holding his pouty face.

His eyebrows furrowed in annoyance and he purposely dropped his entire body on top of yours, earning a grunt from you. You continued to laugh as he hid his face into your neck again, stubbornly biting you again.

“Ow! Tadashi, you’re heavy!” you whined.

“I don’t care. That was mean.”

“If you’re so mad, why are you snuggling into me?” you poked at his sides, still giggling.

He stayed silent but you felt a small smirk against your neck. Your hand found the nape of his neck, playing with his hair again.

“So I can do this.” His hands met both of your sides as he tickled you mercilessly.

Suddenly you were shrieking and laughing, trying to escape his hold.

“No!!!!” You used both arms to still one of his, while his other hand continued tickling you.

“T- Tada-Tadashi p-plea-please! PLEASE,” a mix of your laughter and screams leaving you breathless.

You remained helpless until there was a sudden banging on your door. The both of you froze completely, expecting a noise complaint.

“Oi, oi, oi! Go easy on her Yamaguchi, you dog!!!” Noya yelled. Tanaka and Hinata howled with laughter. You gasped and covered your face with your hands. Yamaguchi blushed furiously as he shook his head and crawled back to hide his face in your neck again, the crook of your neck quickly becoming his new favorite spot.

“Wait, what?!” This time Yaku spoke up, shock evident in his tone. “Yamaguchi, Y/N-san, I hope you were safe!” You rolled your eyes at Hinata’s stupid giggles.

“Dear god,” you whispered, begging for everyone to just go downstairs and mind their business.

Yamaguchi groaned and yelled, “Shut up!” Their laughter only continued and eventually faded. However, the two of you smiled at one another anyway, too smitten to be annoyed for long.

Feeling a grumble in your stomach, you patted his back. “Let’s go eat, bub.” He reluctantly moved off of you, allowing you to get up, put your robe on and open the blinds.

“Wait!” He took your hand and pulled you towards him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You haven’t kissed me once yet this morning,” he pouted. Your heart clenched at his neediness. You loved it.

“Last night wasn’t enough?” you teased and stood between his legs.

“Not at all.”

Holding his head in both of your hands, your lips met his. You smiled into the kiss before deepening it. It started out slowly and gently until his hands began caressing your thighs. His kisses became hungrier and he grabbed both of your legs and pulled you onto his lap. This greediness was so unlike him, but neither of you cared. He was so, so lost in you.

You broke the kiss and sighed, his lips immediately attaching themselves to your jawline and your neck instead.

“‘Dashi, I’m hungry.” Though, you did nothing to stop him. One arm tightly wrapped around your waist while his other hand continued to rub your sides and your legs.

“I am too,” he agreed, breakfast clearly not on his mind. The growl from your stomach spoke for you, throwing you into fits of giggles. He laughed through his nose, still refusing to let you go.

Grabbing his face once again, you pecked his lips and moved back to lock eyes with him. He melted into your touch like putty. He was in a daze. Everything in him was begging you to stay in bed with him all day, not wanting to leave your room, fearing the reality of the world outside of your door. In here, you were all his and there was nothing that could take you from him. He was being selfish, but he felt that he had a right to be after having loved you for ten years now.

As if you could read his mind, you whispered, “Psst, I love you.” He closed his eyes at this, mentally keeping a recording of that for the times he inevitably would have his doubts. You both knew he was not the most confident person in the world, meaning that a relationship with him was going to require a lot of reassurance on your end. You didn’t mind this. The idea of reminding Yamaguchi how much you love him for the rest of your life made your heart swell.

You kissed him again, slowly and sensually before you pulled away and began peppering light kisses all over his face. “And there is much,” kiss “much,” kiss “much,” kiss “more,” kiss “where that came from,” you smirked. Desperate, he latched his lips to yours once more. You mindlessly grinded your hips into his and a groan erupted from his throat. Before his tongue could meet yours, you pulled away, leaving him a whining mess. “Later,” you winked and stood up, swiftly dodging his swipe before he could pull you back in.

“You’re so mean.”

“Maybe Tsukishima’s rubbing off on me,” you snickered. He smiled and rolled his eyes at the mention of his best friend’s name. He wondered if Tsukki already knew about the two of you; he wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in the house did. Regardless, he could already see the smug look on his face saying I told you so.

Yamaguchi watched you from his place on the edge of the bed, so utterly and deeply in love. As you roamed around your room getting ready for the day, his heart warmed at the domesticity of the scene.

“Tadashi?” You questioned. He was too dazed to realize you asked him a question.

“Let’s use the canoes on the lake today,” you beamed and he returned your smile.

You smiled warmly as he walked up to you, hugging you from behind in front of the mirror. You leaned into him as he lowered his head to press a kiss onto your shoulder.

“This. Everyday.” Another shoulder kiss. “I want this everyday,” he locked eyes with yours through the mirror’s reflection.

You don’t know why that was all the convincing you needed to stay in your room a bit longer. Ignoring how hungry you were, you suddenly turned and crashed your lips into his.

“Okay maybe breakfast can wait,” you mumbled against his lips. Yamaguchi grinned ear to ear and wasted no time picking you up and jumping back into bed with you.

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

Once the two of you finally stepped into the kitchen around half an hour later, you were immediately met with howls and applause. Bokuto reached for a high-five only for his arm to be smacked away as you made your way to the fridge.

“Mannn, who would’ve thought!” Sugawara beamed.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, OKAY we got it,” you rolled your eyes, both of you shaking your heads at the relentless teasing. As you poured yourself a glass of orange juice, you looked up just in time to catch Yamaguchi smugly accepting a knuckle punch from Kuroo as he took a seat. You gaped at him across the kitchen island, Kuroo keeling over in laughter. Yamaguchi cheekily winked at you, his newfound confidence exuding off of him.

Deep down, you both knew it was all worth the teasing because the two childhood best friends, notorious for their honesty, were no longer keeping secrets. If everyone knew, then so be it.

All that mattered to Yamaguchi was that you knew that he loved you.

You loving him back was a major bonus.

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