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frogtanii · 4 years

Text

tw. mentions / descriptions of a panic attack

bokuto was excited — more excited than he’d been in weeks!

he was finally getting the time to spend time with his beloved, his puppy, for the first time in forever thanks to the recent onslaught of drama the house had been embroiled in.

he figured he should thank you for bringing it all on because now, as he stood in front of meiko’s room, he had a chance.

“puppy!” bokuto called out, knocking on her door enthusiastically. after a moment of muttering, shuffling around and a loud curse, the door opened up just a crack to reveal meiko clad in only a thin bedsheet with her thin lips wrapped around a cigarette.

kotarou peered over her head and into her room where he spotted a quick flash of dark brown hair before meiko stepped out and closed the door behind her.

“who was that?” he questioned innocently, assuming that it was one of the other housemates. meiko narrowed her eyes at him and blew out a puff of smoke.

“what do you want bokuto.” her voice was steely and cold, nothing like her usual peppy self. still, bokuto couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was in there who shouldn’t be.

“you know,” kotarou began hesitantly, studying her face for reactions. “iwaizumi doesn’t like anyone in here who hasn’t signed a contract. and also you’re not allowed to smoke.” his nose turned up at the smell, disgust for the cigarette written clear on his face.

meiko rolled her eyes at him before taking another drag and blowing the smoke out straight into his face. bokuto tried to hold his breath for as long as he could but his lung capacity wasn’t so great. i need to work on that, he thought as he heaved and choked on the smoke circling down into his chest.

the love of his life adjusted her sheet covering before dropping the cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with the end of the blanket. “i asked you a question bokuto. what the fuck do you want?”

the harshness in her tone made him pause. was what he was here for actually important? or would it just bother her unnecessarily?

no, he resolved. bokuto missed her and he wanted to spend time with his kinda-but-not-really-girlfriend! especially after he waited all this time!

“i, i wanted to spend time with you...” with every word, his hesitance grew until he was muttering, the look in meiko’s eyes sending chills down his spine.

“no,” she said and turned back to enter her room. “wait!” bokuto’s hand shot out to grab her arm, very gently pulling her closer to him. “please,” he whispered, tears beginning to rim his wide, golden eyes.

meiko stared back up at him with absolute rage in her eyes as she snatched her limb out of his hold. “listen to me right now bokuto, and listen well,” she sneered, taking a step back towards her bedroom. “i have never liked you. you’re so fucking childish and clingy and annoying! i literally cannot understand how anyone cares to hang around you.”

bokuto felt something inside him shatter at her words, a sharp gasp escaping his parted lips. “but-“ “no buts! you are fucking nothing to me! all you were was a warm body to sleep with but you weren’t even good for that,” meiko’s chest heaved as she finished speaking, her dark eyes trained on the tear tracks on bokuto’s cheeks.

gently, he lifted a hand to his face, barely registering the water that covered them, his mind desperately trying to understand what had just occurred. in the back of his head, he briefly noticed the sound of a door closing and muffled giggling but it was covered by the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

how... could she? he loved her and she, she only wanted to fuck him? he poured out his entire heart, his very soul to her and for what? for her to take it and stomp on it until there was nothing left?

bokuto’s chest felt heavy — he wasn’t breathing. quickly, he took one breath, and then another and another and another until he was collapsed on the ground, heaving for air as he sobbed.

why him? what had he done to deserve this? maybe it was karma — he’d let a plastic bag float by him into a stream when he was 7 even though he knew littering was wrong. maybe it was because he didn’t kiss his mother goodbye the last time he saw her. or maybe the universe was punishing him for everything he’d done to you.

oh, you — the person who meiko had tried so hard to convince him to hate, and he had! his beloved had no reason to lie to him, or at least that’s what he believed until this moment. she lied to him about loving and caring about him so why wouldn’t she lie about everything else?

bokuto’s head was pounding as he tried to rationalize where he’d gone wrong, his usually bright eyes, dull and trained on the ceiling as he attempted to regain his breathing.

it felt like his whole world was collapsing on itself like a fallen star, just waiting to implode and destroy everyone and everything until there was nothing left and—

“hey, look at me, you’re ok,” a soft voice rang out over the buzzing in his head, his eyes beginning to focus on... your figure.

what were you doing here? he so desperately wanted to ask but the words were caught in his throat, trapped behind a wall of despair and anguish.

“don’t try to talk ok? just focus on my breathing, try and match it. i’m going to touch you now.” your soft, small (so much smaller — were you eating enough?) hand wrapped around his own and brought it up to your chest where he could feel the steady rise and fall of your breathing.

bokuto’s breath was shaky and definitely not as smooth as your own, but you didn’t seem to mind, instead holding his hand to your heart until his breathing became level and even.

he must’ve knocked out because by the time he came to, the hall was dark and you were gone, the only memory of you being a box of tissues and a glass of water on the ground next to him.

he reached for the glass first, chugging the whole thing down in only a few seconds. all that crying must have dehydrated him immensely, he realized as he searched for another cup.

standing on shaky legs, bokuto attempted to maneuver to the kitchen, holding onto the walls for stability as he crept through the dark corridors.

he quickly filled up his favorite owl mug (a gift from she-who-will-not-be-named) with water once he made it to the kitchen, extra careful not to make a lot of noise just in case someone was asleep.

bokuto swiftly gulped down his water, placing the cup in the sink where he knew it would not remain because if anything was sure, it was the clean state of the house that meiko kept.

ugh meiko. the whole situation hurt to think about so he didn’t, instead choosing to bury it in the deep recesses of his mind, never to be seen again.

as bokuto trudged upstairs back to his bedroom, he noticed the big black trash bag sat at the end of the hall near daichi’s room. he debated on taking it out himself but was ultimately convinced not to.

it’ll be gone tomorrow, he reasoned as he slipped into his room and bed before quickly falling asleep.

...

it was not gone the next day. neither was the cup in the sink, or the hair on the floor in the bathroom, or the laundry strewn all over the living room.

the whole house seemed to be in shambles and it remained that way for the entirety of the week. meiko was nowhere to be seen, flitting in and out of the house at random, escaping to only god knows where with god knows who.

bokuto didn’t care anymore. she ruined his life so why should he give a half of a shit where she was? what he did care about, on the other hand, was figuring what to do about you.

he wanted to thank you and apologize but he wasn’t sure how to do so! he knew he said some horrible things to you and was determined to make it right — not just for you but for himself too.

℗ poker face

shattered

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - ok writing this genuinely made me cry???? bokuto is my comfort character so making him go through this i just </3 i hope it came across ok? it’s literally 1 am so there may v well be typos and massive mistakes but i hope u guys enjoy this miserably sad chapter LMAO don’t forget to feed me <3

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @sazunari • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @amberalisa • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @ris-illustration • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @babierin • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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apocalypticwafflekitten · 3 years

Note

If you’d like, how about Maul with an S/O who likes to hold and touch his horns?… :>

Ohhhhh my gosh Nonnie! This is so cute!!!! Thank you for sending it in! 💗💗💗 I’m going to do some headcanons for this if that’s alright. I set this around TCW when Maul is Manda’lore!

*There’s a few headcanons for the smexy times, and I can’t add a cut since I’m on mobile, so ye youngins tread carefully. I’ve put in a warning where the NSFW headcanons start, so if you’re under 18, avert your eyes!

Horn Touching Headcanons!

Darth Maul x Reader

At first Maul will probably be hesitant to let you touch his horns.

They’re particularly sensitive, and he’s just learning how to properly take care of them.

Savage taught him how to buff, sharpen and polish them until they’re smooth and shiny.

So he’s super proud and protective of them now that they’re all pretty and sharp!

But once he gets more comfortable with you, he might let your hand venture up to his horns while you’re cuddling on the couch.

And when you do touch them for the first time?

Oooooohhhhhh it feels so good!!!

He’s surprised at first. How can something so simple feel so good? You’re just rubbing his horns. How can it feel this good?

‘It just does.’ He thinks, letting it go for the moment and enjoying the feeling.

No one else had ever touched his horns before. At least not like this. He’d done his fair share of agressive head-butting, and he’d used his horns to rip and tear, but they had never been used for anything else. They’d never felt anything so gentle or caring as your soft hands.

And now that he knows what it feels like? Say goodbye to your hands because they’re his now and they’re always rubbing his horns. He loves it!

When you decide to reach over and give his horns a massage, Maul can’t help but lean into the warmth of your hand with a very happy purr.

Smooth strokes up his horns, and small scritches at the base of them. Sometimes you’ll massage around them, and in those moments he swears he’s died and become one with the light side of the force because nothing else could feel this pleasant.

Well...maybe one or two things, but that’s a discussion for another day.... 😏

He loves how often you want to touch his horns. He’ll let you rub them anytime, anyplace.

In the morning when you’re laying beside him in bed? Yes!

During a meeting with the council? Definitely!

In the evening when he’s working on paperwork in his office? Yes please!

This man wants your hands on his horns all the time. Like, all the time.

Please touch this man’s horns he needs it.

Especially in the smexy times *eyebrow waggle*

Alright Yee youngins, if you’re under 18 boot it. Git. Avert yer eyes, for this is sin and I don’t want to have to exorcize you.

So...horn holding during the sexy times?

Hell. Yes.

Maul would spend eternity between your legs on a normal day, but if you so much as brush against his horns while he’s down there, you’ll have to actually pry him out.

It’ll take a lot of convincing and you might have to actually pry him away when you get overstimulated.

But yes please dash your hand out to grapple his horns when he hits that special spot between your legs. Squeeze his horns tighter and push him into you with those gorgeous moans of yours. He’ll live for that shit. He’d worship you for that.

And if you’re pegging this man and you grab his horns? It’s over for him. Doesn’t matter how long you’ve been at it. It could be the first thrust or the twentieth, but if you grab his horns and yank his head back while you’re in him? Sorry, he’s cumming right then, right there, all over himself and the sheets with the loudest moan you think you’ve ever heard. The tingly sensation will course from his horns straight down his back and to his cock, and there no coming back from that.

And if it’s softer sex, with those gentle, loving touches, and whispered proclamations of love, Maul will bring your hand up to his horns and let you slowly massage them while he thrusts into you slow and gentle and with every ounce of love he has to offer. It’s a tender moment for him, and the feeling of your hands on his horns calms his racing heart and let’s him live in that moment, holding you, loving you, and being loved in return.

I hope you like my headcanons! These were really fun to write, so thank you again for the request! 💗💗💗

If you have anymore requests, my inbox is open!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags!

@justalittlecloud @fanficsforheartandsoul @thundershield @spookiifi

#darth maul x reader #darth maul smut #darth maul imagine #darth maul x you #darth maul #star wars

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jackrrabbit · 4 years

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Sidekick /// Dabi x f!Reader x Shigaraki (18+)

Summary: During a rescue gone wrong, a rookie sidekick catches the attention of two villains.

A/N: Thanks for 1k followers!! This is the fic that made me create a smut blog/lowkey inspired this. imho this might be the spiciest thing I’ve ever written 😳 also wanted to call out @kazooli because this is highkey inspired by her lol thanks queen

Tags/warnings: quirk kink, reader’s quirk makes other quirks stronger, noncon, threesome, lots of foreplay, outdoor sex, mild overstimulation, degradation, mild violence, threats, chronological/temporal inaccuracies, fucking long

You can hardly be blamed for not recognizing them. It’s only been three weeks since you debuted as a pro, and you’re not even really a hero. You’re a sidekick, and apparently you’re not important enough to have been briefed on the major villains you need to look out for. You’re just…doing your duty. Rescuing civilians indiscriminately. Stupid, naive little sidekick. It’s not your fault that the lives you just saved belong to the two most notorious villains around.

Still, Shigaraki can’t wait to see the look on your face when you find out.

///

The disaster you ‘rescue’ them from—the League’s bar crashing down, the result of a small-time villain’s poisonous gas quirk—isn’t even a disaster. It’s a minor annoyance, sure, but Shigaraki and Dabi would have been fine without you…even though both of them missed Kurogiri’s warp gate and ended up trapped under a wooden beam in the wreckage of the building… Okay, it’s more than a minor annoyance. Shigaraki hacks violently as the cloud of foul-smelling steam and powdered debris enters his lungs. The poisonous quirk doesn’t seem to be having the same acid-burn effects on his body as it did on the building, but he can’t assume it’s harmless.

Father… Shigaraki took Father off his face to drink at the bar earlier before the gas hit, and now in the confusion the severed hand is either buried underneath the rubble that used to be the League’s main base or somewhere else out of view. “Father? Father!” Shigaraki calls out, attempting to shift under the crushing weight of the beam.

“Shut up,” Dabi says from somewhere to Shigaraki’s left. “Kurogiri took it in one of the portals, I saw it.” He looks worse than Shigaraki feels—something hit him in the face as the bar collapsed, and a few of the staples (piercings? stitches? whatever) on his right cheek are torn open and bleeding.

“Are you lying to me?”

Dabi sneers and rolls his eyes. “Let’s just get out of here.” His palms glow blue and Shigaraki follows suit, letting four fingers sit on the wood that’s pinning both of them to the ground. It’s too heavy to lift, so they’re going to have to get rid of it…a task that seems significantly more difficult when it becomes clear that neither of them are positioned at the right angle to touch it.

Shigaraki tries to wrest his arm out enough for his thumb to touch the wood, but it’s impossible. Beside him, Dabi’s having the same issue. “Shit, I can’t reach—“

“Is someone there?” Confident, clear, and oddly robotic, your voice cuts through the din of gurgling water from cracked pipes and police sirens like a lit flare in the darkness. Shigaraki tenses and halts his attempts to get free from the beam, and a second later Dabi mimics him.

“I heard voices.” The same unfamiliar voice rings out through the half-light, now accompanied by a body—your body, taking a series of awkward jumps down the piles of rubble to land in front of the two of them. The outfit you’re wearing is ridiculous: a pair of metal boots that clang against the cement wherever you step, matching braces on your arms, and a space-age chrome motorcycle helmet to top it all off.

A hero. Shigaraki’s lip curls in disgust as your head turns his way.

You scan the scene quickly, eyes resting on the two men trapped in front of you for a moment before you turn back to the opening in the wreckage. “Found two civilians!” you call out to the rescue workers just in case they’re within earshot, although it’s unlikely.

Dabi snickers under his breath. Civilians? Even in the chaos, you should’ve known the second you saw them who you’re looking at. Are you faking ignorance? Got something up your sleeve? It’s either that, or you genuinely don’t recognize them. Priceless.

You kneel down in front of the fallen beam and give a half-hearted attempt to pick it up. It doesn’t budge. No surprises there—if it were light enough for you to lift by yourself, the two men held down by it would have no problem getting out with their combined strength. You’re going to have to use your support gear to get it off them.

But first—you search for a memory of your rescue training. Reassure the victims. They’re probably panicking.

“It’ll be okay,” you tell them, your voice coming out mechanical and distorted from the helmet you’re wearing. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here to save you.”

This time, Dabi has to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Ah, yes…they’re so lucky that there’s a do-gooder little hero around to rescue them, because they’d be helpless otherwise. The laugh is still audible, though, and Shigaraki shoots him a glare.

You raise an eyebrow at their expressions. Did he just laugh? Well…you’ve heard that people sometimes have inappropriate reactions in times of crisis. The dark-haired man seems more badly hurt, so you creep toward him first, careful not to disturb any of the debris and trigger an avalanche reaction. “I’m going to check your injuries now,” you tell him, and your gloved hand brushes away a sweep of spiky hair to examine the sizable red bump growing on his forehead.

Ouch…there’s no way that doesn’t hurt, but the man’s not letting any of the pain show on his face. Instead, he looks disinterested at best, and at worst? You almost get the feeling that he’s eyeing you up under your hero costume. Not that you can blame him. Damn this skin-tight bodysuit—it leaves basically nothing to the imagination.

“Does it hurt a lot?” you ask him. “I don’t think this is too serious, but they’ll look you over for a concussion when I get you to first aid.”

Dabi shrugs and you frown. Is the non-verbal response because of the ripped stitches in his face? Is it too painful to talk? Or could there be brain damage? Or maybe he’s just a man of few words or something…?

“Can you get on with it? Pick up the fucking beam already,” Shigaraki hisses.

Startled, you pull your hand away from the other man’s forehead. That ungrateful little…nope, nope, don’t get annoyed, he’s just in shock. “O-Of course, sorry. Just gotta make sure it’s okay to move.”

Luckily, the beam doesn’t look like it’s supporting anything else that’ll fall if you pick it up. You crouch down next to one end and steady your feet against the cement, lifting up with all your strength while activating the effects of the support items you’re wearing. When you feel the metal on your arm braces grow warm, you remind yourself again to thank the developer of your costume. You may not be a fan of the way-too-tight bodysuit that clings to everything, but the strength-enhancing armor that you wear on your arms and legs more than makes up for it.

A second later, you hold back a grin. It’s moving! You try to ignore the unpleasant screech of metal against stone as the beam slowly lifts into the air. As soon as the men get out from under it, you pant and let it crash back into the ground. “You guys okay?”

“Mm…yes,” Dabi replies, running a hand over the torn piercings in his cheek. “Got any more gas masks for the poison mist?”

“Don’t worry! The Commission is familiar with the villain who created it, and the gas isn’t harmful to anything living. Only buildings. It’s a troublesome quirk, but we’ve got it under control.”

“Then what’s with the helmet?”

He can hear the hesitation in your reply, even distorted and tinny through the metal speakers. “Uh…I, well…”

Now that you’re getting a good look at them, the two scarred faces in front of you seem weirdly intense, considering you’ve just saved them from a collapsed building. The dark-haired man’s eyes are…very, very blue next to the burned-looking skin underneath, and the other man’s greyish-blue hair isn’t quite long enough to obscure a pair of red irises that are scrutinizing your face with obvious hostility.

You give a nervous shake of your head to clear it. “Um, the helmet is…it’s dangerous if I take it off. I should get you guys back to the rescue area, I need to meet up with my hero…” Without thinking, you take a step back and then one more, not knowing exactly why you’re backing away when you’re supposed to be escorting them. “I’ll just lead the way?”

With your third step back, though, you bump into something hard. What was that? Your head jerks around but before you can identify what it is that stopped your retreat, you feel the faint sensation of something tapping lightly on the back of your helmet.

And then…it just…crumbles.

What just happened?

You cough and shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut against the sudden onslaught of dust. A breeze whips through your hair, sending a chill through you in more ways than one. How? No one pulled the helmet off; you would’ve felt it if they had. More dust sticks to your face, and you rub your eyes so you can open them.

Behind you, Shigaraki waits with outstretched fingers an inch away from your neck. If he had to explain the decision to decay your helmet strategically, he could—you’re a hero, a potential threat, and he wants to know what you’re hiding under that outfit just in case you figure out who they are and decide to turn on them.

But really? He didn’t think about it that much. It was an impulse reaction to you walking away from them; a tantrum. Child-like.

Once your stunned face is exposed, Dabi has to wonder what you were even trying to hide. You’re…surprisingly ordinary. Young-looking—a rookie, fresh from hero school graduations a few weeks ago maybe? Large, expressive eyes, lips parted in shock, but nothing particularly interesting. Shigaraki cocks his head to the side to study your face too, and both of them are so focused on your appearance that it takes a moment for them to notice the feeling.

Well, feeling isn’t really the right word, but there isn’t a word for the way your quirk works. Dabi’s eyes widen when it reaches him and behind you, Shigaraki stiffens. You notice.

There’s an involuntary quiver in your voice as you break the silence. “Y-You guys must have strong quirks if you can feel it just from that.”

Dabi sucks in a breath. So this is your quirk? It’s different…he’s never felt anything like it, not that he’s exactly sure what it is. There’s some kind of energy in the air around you that he’s breathing in, a feeling like taking a shot of espresso after days of sleep deprivation.

No, it’s stronger than that. The head rush after doing a line of cocaine would be a better metaphor.

Either way, he’s awake—more awake than he can remember feeling in a long time. Heat rises to the surfaces of his palms unbidden, his quirk appearing without him calling it. “What is this?”

“…It’s called Boost,” you say, licking your lips as a dry wave of heat radiates out from the man in front of you. “I can strengthen other people’s quirks. That’s why it’s dangerous—if the villain finds us—“

“It must have been hard to get through hero school with a quirk like that,” says a raspy voice from behind you.

What—? Your head twists around. When did he—

Shigaraki grips your shoulder with three fingers, holding just tightly enough to keep you from stumbling forward and away from him. His pinky and ring finger hover an inch over your costume, careful not to disintegrate the fabric he’s touching—although with the power sparking through his veins at the moment, it almost feels like three fingers would be enough.

“…Doesn’t really seem like the kind of quirk a hero has.” His voice, soft and pondering (a weird contrast to the harsh architecture of his facial features you’d seen earlier), feels very close to your ear. Something soft tickles your cheek. His hair?

A voice (an instinct?) deep inside of you is telling you to run. You ignore it. This is normal, right? It’s not uncommon for civilians who’ve just suffered a traumatic villain attack to have questions, even if those questions seem irrelevant to the situation at hand. You have to answer, even if your gut is churning. “I’m not really a hero. Not yet. For now, I’m a sidekick to one of the pros—and speaking of which, I really need to find—“

“But how does it work?” Dabi doesn’t notice himself making a conscious decision to step forward, but he does anyway and being closer to you feels right. He can see the trepidation on your face as he gets close enough to reach out and touch you, but you can’t really ask him to stay back, can you? Not when your quirk feels this good?

“I—“ Is it unreasonable that you think you’re being trapped right now? They’re just a couple of civilians, right? The question itself is common enough. People often wonder how you can be a hero. It’s a concern you’ve had to address dozens of times over the years. “Well, I work with rescue operations, especially with other heroes who have healing-type quirks. I can also assist in combat in some situations.”

“In combat? If you’re with a hero and a villain, you’ll enhance both quirks. Seems counterintuitive,” Dabi says, half aware that his voice is getting lower.

“And you clearly don’t have physical abilities. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have…these.” Shigaraki taps three fingers on the metal brace on your right arm.

“The effects can be unpredictable. And I can increase the degree of the enhancement with physical contact.”

“Contact?”

“Yeah. The gloves of my costume come off. My quirk is way stronger when it’s skin-to-skin.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

You shouldn’t have said that.

Shigaraki’s ring finger and pinky, which were hovering over the arm brace, come down to rest on the cold metal. The effect is instant: no crumbling, no slow decay—it’s there, and then it’s dust. His quirk in action, boosted by yours.

“What—What are you doing? What did you just do?” You try to pull away from him, but he holds you tight by your collar. His other hand comes up to grip your chin, and in one long sloppy stroke, he licks you from your neck up to your jawline.

You shudder. So does Shigaraki.

“It’s my quirk,” he tells you slowly. His breath is steamy warm on the cold, wet trail of saliva painting your throat. “Decay. Have you heard of it?”

You flinch away from his hand and your back falls against his chest. Of course you’ve heard of the Decay quirk. You might be a rookie, but even civilians know about the young, impetuous head of the League of Villains. Jesus, how had you not recognized him earlier? White hair, red eyes…you should have known. You should have left him under that beam. “Shigaraki…Tomura.”

“So you’re not completely clueless. Do you know me, then?” Dabi asks. He would think he’s the more noticeable of the two (the burn scars usually identify him), but you just stare up at him with the same deer-in-the-headlights look as before. Smirking, he lights a blue fire in his palm and it jumps up toward your face—not just the small spark he intended, but a bright, high flame. “Maybe this will help you remember.”

“The Forest of Beasts incident. You’re the one who started that fire,” you whisper. You’ve seen the TV coverage of the attack on UA’s training camp, the abduction of that teenage student, the forest lit up blue from wildfire. No wonder his skin looks burned.

“Dabi,” he corrects you.

Breath is coming out of your mouth in shallow puffs. Are you hyperventilating? Is this what hyperventilating feels like? You’re definitely panicking. They’re so close to you, caging you in between them. The smoke from the blue fire is uncomfortably hot over the exposed skin of your face, and Shigaraki’s lethal hands are still touching you. If they want to kill you—and why wouldn’t they?—you’re fucked.

The flame goes out and Dabi’s hands come down to squeeze your wrists. His palms are hot like he was holding them in front of a lit stove. It’s not painful, but it’s a threat.

“I’ll fight,” you say.

Your voice is trembling, and Shigaraki likes it. The effects of your quirk, the way he felt when he licked your face… And you’re afraid. He can see it in your shoulders, the quivering of your torso pressed into him. It’s nice. He wants to feel it more.

You’re struggling against their hold, and Dabi feels the urge to laugh. “You’ll fight…the two of us.”

“If you try to kill me, I’ll—“

Before you can finish your sentence, Shigaraki’s hands flit down to your metal support gear and disintegrate it. Shit. He’s fast, and you’re helpless.

Dabi releases your wrists and cups your face in a mockery of intimacy. His eyelids flutter closed as his skin meets yours… Fuck, he could get used to this. You smell so good, sweet and soft and clean, like fruity shampoo. What is that, watermelon?

Life must be difficult for you, hm… Everyone around you must want to touch you constantly. It seems like Shigaraki enjoyed licking you—maybe bodily fluids are an even stronger conductor of your quirk? Pushing easily past your resistance, Dabi forces your jaw upward and kisses you.

Oh…yesyesyes, just like that. Perfect. Dabi has to bite down a groan as his tongue enters your mouth. It’s ridiculous for someone else’s spit to taste this good, but he’s right—your quirk is amplified by the contact from the kiss.

After a moment he has to break it to regain focus and make sure he’s not burning you. You cringe away from him, your cheek brushing against Shigaraki’s neck, but Dabi tangles his hand in your hair to pull you back. He runs a finger against your closed lips, letting the pad of his fingertip heat up until your mouth drops open in response to the threat.

“What the hell are you doing?” Shigaraki asks, voice laced with revulsion. Privately, you agree. What’s going on? You were sure you were about to be either burned to a crisp or decayed into the equivalent.

Dabi laughs under his breath. “Try it. It feels crazy good.”

Curious now, Shigaraki wrenches your head around and tilts your jaw up to repeat Dabi’s action. When you refuse to open your mouth, he taps your jaw warningly and a hiss of fear escapes you. Would he really kill you? He decayed your support gear so quickly—would it be the same for your body?

Well, what’s going to stop them?

You open your mouth.

Shigaraki’s lips are harsh and unsentimental against yours. His tongue sweeps over the inside of your mouth, invasive and brutal. He grips you forcefully, his face pushing you deeper into the strained hold with your head twisted toward his. You’ve never been kissed like this before. His spit—it’s in your mouth.

And Dabi’s hands are on your waist. “How do you get this thing off?” he murmurs, pinching the fabric of your bodysuit.

A surge of panicked adrenaline gives you the strength to pull back away from Shigaraki. “What? No, you can’t!”

“Are you going to stop us, little sidekick?” Dabi mocks. “I think I can burn it off without too much damage.”

“Let me.” Shigaraki takes hold of the cloth, careful so when it dissolves into dust his hand isn’t touching you, and within a second—a second—you’re left shivering in just your underwear and boots.

“Help!” The plea squeaks out and you hope blindly that there’s a hero close enough to hear you. But is there even anyone who can fight them? You certainly can’t. “Help me! Somebody!”

“Shut up.” Dabi sends up a tongue of flame from a fingertip and you shriek as the heat sears against you. “Oh, come on. You should feel lucky. Bad guys like us usually don’t hesitate to take heroes out.”

“I don’t— Please, I’m just a sidekick, I’m a rookie— What do you even want from me? Just let me go, I won’t tell anyone! Please let me go.”

“Well, I think I know what I want.” Dabi traces circles over the tender skin of your hips, playing with the elastic of your underwear. He meets Shigaraki’s eye over your shoulder. “I think he wants that too. Right?”

“Yeah, I want…I want to fuck her,” Shigaraki hums. This isn’t like him, but he can’t help himself. You’re different. Leaving you here and never feeling this stimulant again isn’t an option. He buries his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, bites down on the soft skin there, and sucks.

You whimper, half from his answer and half from the sensation of his chapped lips on your neck. “Why are you doing this?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but…you smell like something I want to eat. Especially this.” Dabi kneels down in front of you and hitches one of your legs up over his shoulder so you feel his hot breath washing over your clothed pussy.

You whine and attempt to wriggle back away from him, but Dabi’s grip on your thigh holds firm. His other hand brushes against the fabric of your panties to rub up against your slit and another surge of panic jumps up your throat. You can’t let him do this.

You kick your foot against his back, desperately attempting to make contact using the heel of the high boot that’s the only piece of outerwear still left on your body. It hits him awkwardly and he growls. “Damn it. Can’t you keep her busy?”

“Ahh…” Shigaraki ceases his oral assault on your neck and scratches a fingernail against one of the bright red marks marring your skin. He feels almost dizzy from the way your quirk is affecting him. Behind him, the broken expanse of wall digging into his back is the only thing keeping his focus. “Behave, sidekick.”

Before you can respond to the mocking title, Shigaraki’s face is against yours and his tongue is in your mouth again. Rough fingertips work up under the band of your sports bra and pushes it up over your tits. You screw your eyes shut at the sudden feeling of cold air on your nipples, and you know without looking that they’re standing up. Shigaraki gropes you thoughtlessly, keeping one finger lifted off of your skin, and you gasp on his tongue.

“That’s better.” Dabi’s mouth returns to brush against your panties. To be honest, eating you out isn’t the first thing on his mind. What he wants—what he really wants—is to shove you up against the wall and fuck into you and find out what your quirk feels like when you’re wrapped around his cock. But you’re probably not wet enough for that, and it’s not like Shigaraki is going to do anything to take care of you. Dabi would be surprised if the other man’s ever eaten pussy before in his life.

Besides…you smell good. It’s not even just the feeling of your quirk exciting him. The rich, feminine scent of your pussy is inches away from him, and Dabi is dying to make you cum in his mouth.

A moan curls up from deep in your throat as Dabi caresses the lips of your pussy through your underwear. You don’t bother protesting—at this point, it’s unlikely that any plea you could muster would stop them. Your earlier begging didn’t do much besides spur them on, but you still cry out as softly as you can when an unnaturally warm fingertip slips under the cloth of your panties to dip into your slit.

“Oh? You’re wetter than I expected. Are you enjoying this?”

Your frantic denial falls on deaf ears. Shigaraki rasps out a laugh and bites down on your neck again. He’s supposed to be keeping you still, but he can’t help enjoying the way your almost-naked body feels as you press yourself back into his chest, trying to force some space between yourself and Dabi.

Your squirming is no problem for Dabi, though—you’re so soft and vulnerable and the velvety skin of your inner thigh looks so delicious… He nuzzles against the area of bare skin and latches on to it, sucking until he’s sure you’re going to have a mark in a few minutes. The thought of leaving hickeys on you like a teenager is sickeningly nostalgic. You’re probably going to try to forget this when they’re done, aren’t you? But you won’t be able to, not when you’re covered in love bites and bruises. You’re going to be marked up for weeks.

Fuck, he’s hard.

Too impatient to bother taking off your panties, Dabi just pushes them aside to gain access to your damp cunt. His fingers feel hot—too hot, almost unbearably hot; you feel like you could melt into a puddle and your pussy is certainly slick enough as he pets your clit and slides one finger in, then two… You whimper and shake your head, silently denying what’s happening to you. The intrusion is uncomfortable, but Dabi’s fingers quickly find that rough patch inside of you that makes you want to beg like an animal. You hate it, but it feels good.

“She’s so tight,” Dabi says with something like awe in his voice. You can hear Shigaraki panting behind your back.

“Get on with it,” Shigaraki says.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

For a second you just feel Dabi’s humid breath against your dripping cunt before he closes the space between the two of you and his tongue slides onto you, laving over your cunt to come to a rest on your clit. A sound you’ve never heard yourself make before forces its way out of your mouth as Dabi eats you out in earnest, rubbing his tongue against your clit in a stuttering rhythm that gives you no time to catch your breath.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Your head rolls back onto Shigaraki’s shoulder. You feel like crying for a million reasons at once. Maybe you’re already crying—the sounds you’re making are almost like sobs. You want him to stop. You never want him to stop. Your hands twitch as you fight the impulse to fist them in the villain’s hair and pin him down between your thighs.

“Fuck, oh fuck, no stop please stop, ah…!” The stream of gibberish coming out of your mouth crescendoes into a real sob as you feel your climax coming. No—you can’t—you can’t cum here, in this broken-down bar, on the tongue of a villain, but it doesn’t matter that you can’t, because you’re going to cum anyway.

“Please don’t, please let me go—“ You writhe uncontrollably as the desire to cum sweeps over you, but Dabi just curls one arm around your thigh and pulls his face away so he can push his fingers back in, angling his palm to grind roughly over your clit. The harsh, rough texture after the warm wet softness of his tongue is enough to push you over the edge and you cry out your orgasm, your pussy clenching onto Dabi’s fingers as he works them in and out of you.

Unable to support yourself, you crumple like paper, and only the two villains you’re sandwiched between keep you upright.

“Fucking finally,” Shigaraki growls, and he pushes you down so your knees scrape painfully into the rubble. Your earlier resistance was cute, but so is your dazed compliance as he pulls your hips up to meet his.

“You’re going first?” Dabi asks incredulously. After he did all that work getting you off? No way.

“You can use her mouth,” Shigaraki tells him. His cock is straining against his pants and he groans as he releases it and rubs it over your panties. He could decay them, but…they’re cute. Pale pink, peach-pink, except for the wet spot over your cunt. Precum is already dribbling out of his cock as he pulls your panties to the side and lines it up with your pussy. Jesus-fucking-christ, you’re wet, sopping and slimy. Doesn’t that mean you’re begging to get filled up? Shigaraki hears himself sigh as he slides the head of his cock up and down your slit so it’ll be wet enough to go in.

You’re still out of it, dizzy from your orgasm and the tension of the situation, but you snap back to your senses with the feeling of something hard pushed up to your entrance. “Wait!” you yelp for what feels like the hundredth time. The gravel scattered over the wreckage where you’ve been forced onto your hands and knees digs painfully into your flesh as you pull away from Shigaraki, but he holds fast to your hips with pinkies raised.

“Uh-uh,” Dabi admonishes with a grin, as if he’s reprimanding a dog for not coming when called. He settles himself in front of your front and kneels again. Your hair is mussed but still silky soft and he takes a moment to enjoy the way the strands slip over his skin before he tangles his fingers close to your scalp and yanks your head in his direction, forcing your cheek to chafe against the crotch of his pants. It’s not difficult to tell what the the thick bulge is through the fabric, and you try to flinch away only to be caught again and immobilized.

“You’re going to take care of us,” Dabi tells you. “Like I took care of you. Okay?”

No, it’s not okay, it’s absolutely not okay, and you would say so if you didn’t see Dabi’s expression darken at your obvious denial and feel a wave of acrid heat coming from his hand in your hair. The smell is worse than the feeling, honestly—you’ve had enough run-ins with hair curlers and flat irons to recognize the smell of hair when it’s three seconds away from burning. “Okay! Okay,” you answer, panicked, voice muffled by the fabric of Dabi’s pants.

“Good girl,” he purrs, and the heat fades.

“I’m not waiting any longer,” Shigaraki says from behind you.

“Then don’t.”

You whine, too scared to try to get away again or even plead with them to let you go, but it doesn’t matter. Shigaraki’s cock presses into your pussy, and there’s nothing you can do to stop him as he slides into you, inch by inch, torturously slow. Is there anything to bite down on? You need to do something, anything to distract from the pain of Shigaraki’s cock stretching you out. He’s big, impossibly big.

Eyes squeezed shut, you bite your lip until you can taste copper and scrabble around blindly until your hand finds loose fabric to grip. It’s something of Dabi’s, probably the coat he’s wearing if you remember correctly, but your brain isn’t exactly working right at the moment—

“You were right…shit, she’s…she’s so fucking tight.” Shigaraki’s voice is low and labored with the effort of not thrusting into you all at once. “Feels like…she’s trying to push me out…”

Fuck it, he thinks. Would it really be so bad if he did push all the way into you in one stroke? It’s better to just get it over with, isn’t it? Yeah…you’d probably prefer him to do it quickly. And besides, he can’t wait another second to feel you all the way up to the base of his cock.

Your strangled whimper is drowned out by his satisfied groan as he shoves the rest of the way into you in a single sudden thrust. The pain knocks the breath out of you in a gasp, and your eyes fly open as you clutch Dabi’s coat like a lifeline.

“It hurts—!”

“Yeah…yeah, I bet it does,” Shigaraki pants, holding your hips steady as he thrusts in and out of you. The bored nonchalance of earlier is gone, replaced by a feral intensity as his cock carves its way through your pussy. If you didn’t know better, you’d think there’s something affectionate in his voice.

For Shigaraki’s part, he can hardly think of anything aside from the soft, hot, wet cunt wrapped over his dick. It’s taking every vestige of concentration he has left to make sure he’s holding a single finger on each hand away from your skin. It’s pure bliss. Your body was made to be fucked like this. He wants to live inside your pussy, he wants to do this every day, every minute. Fucking you raw is the best he’s felt in months…years. And it doesn’t hurt that your quirk is still working on him, still sending pleasurable shocks of energy that make him feel simultaneously like he could keep you pinned down for hours and like he could cum any second.

“Oh, she’s crying,” Dabi says, tilting your chin up so he can look into your eyes. You flinch and try to jerk your head away, but his hand is still holding you by your hair and he’s so much stronger than you are. They both are, even without using their quirks. “Look at me.”

You comply, more by reflex than any real desire to obey. It’s pretty striking to Dabi how cute you look as Shigaraki pounds into you so fast and deep you can hardly catch your breath. Your eyes are glittering with unshed tears, your tits bounce with every thrust, and you’re still holding onto Dabi’s coat like your life depends on it. It’s almost like you’re pulling him closer. Adorable.

“She can…take it,” Shigaraki responds breathily between thrusts. “Such a good whore, taking my big cock in her tight little pussy…”

The backhanded compliment jars you and you feel hot tears spill over your cheeks. “I’m—not—a—whore,” you manage to say, each word punctuated with Shigaraki’s skin slapping against yours.

“Really?” Shigaraki’s pace slows and he leans closer to you so he can reach an arm around and swirl two fingers against your clit. You mewl like a kitten at the unexpected stimulation and he laughs rudely. “Feels so good…can’t believe the heroes don’t want to fuck you like this all the time…”

You shake your head desperately and bury your face in Dabi’s chest, barely noticing him stroking your hair and then reaching down to unzip his pants.

“No, no, I bet that’s what you do as a sidekick, right?” Shigaraki’s thrusts are back to frenzied jerks, and he rubs over your clit just as roughly. “Spread your legs for your hero…you’d make a great personal cocksleeve. Or maybe they rotate you around so every pro hero gets a turn…?”

“No, I don’t! No! Ah— ahnnn…” The denials pierce the air uselessly as the villain’s cock fills you up again and again. You’re not a whore, you’re not…even if it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the growing pressure of Shigaraki teasing your clit in time with his cock rubbing against your sweet spot. It still hurts—he’s so big, bigger than anyone you’ve ever had sex with before, but there’s no way you’re going to admit to yourself that it’s starting to feel good.

“…Is my cock better than All Might’s?” Shigaraki’s words are cut off by his own grunt of pleasure as your cunt twitches around him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Dabi cuts in. “I’m sick of hearing a guy’s voice moaning. I’m going to get soft.”

Past the point of comprehending the situation, you look up at him gratefully, only to reel back in shock as Dabi frees his own cock from his pants and it brushes against your cheek. Trying to pull away from him is more instinct than rational thought, but he holds you just as easily as before and forces two fingers into your mouth. You tense, ready to bite down, (and hopefully take a few knuckles off) but he sees it coming and suddenly your mouth is horribly burning hot.

“You’re going to suck my cock now,” says Dabi conversationally, extinguishing the flame almost as soon as he started it. It’s not so bad—probably more like a coffee burn than anything else—but you’re coughing and spitting anyway. “Say yes.”

“…Yes,” you whisper, voice barely intelligible.

“Good little sidekick. And you’re going to be very careful. You’re not going to use teeth.”

You nod, unable to mount a defense with Shigaraki mercilessly fucking you from behind.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Y-Yes!” you squeal as Shigaraki finds a particularly sensitive spot inside you.

“Good.” Dabi drags your head down to hover over his cock and massages your jaw until it falls open. “Suck.”

One of his hands falls to your shoulder to try to stabilize you, but you can’t help feeling the threat in the motion. You quickly duck down and attempt to ignore the heady smell of sweat and precum as you trace your tongue up the underside of his dick. He’s big too, maybe thicker than Shigaraki, and you hate yourself for feeling lucky that it’s not this cock inside your pussy right now.

The stunt Dabi pulled burning your mouth made you salivate, and you let drool coat your tongue as you lick around the head. But it’s not working—you rock forward every time Shigaraki stuffs his dick back in your aching pussy, and Dabi’s cock smears over your mouth haphazardly.

“I said suck. Not lick.” Suddenly (although you don’t know why you keep expecting some kind of warning before these villains find a new way to violate you), Dabi grabs the back of your head and shoves his cock into your mouth. Your throat constricts involuntarily as the thick head triggers your gag reflex, and all three of you shiver in unison.

“Do…do that again,” Shigaraki says, voice strained. “She tightens up…when you do that.”

Dabi smirks and thrusts into you again, relishing the warm, humid cavern of your throat around his cock along with the pure swell of energy from your quirk enhancing his. His rhythm matches Shigaraki’s and his cock hits the back of your throat with every rapid pump, making you gag and clench like you’re trying to milk the cum out of him. What a perfect little slut… He can see from Shigaraki’s sloppy movements that you’re squeezing around his cock every time too.

The feeling of having one villain cock buried in your pussy while another ravages your throat is unthinkable, even more so with Shigaraki’s fingers on your clit coaxing out an earth-shaking orgasm. But you’d almost be able to forget what’s happening—god knows you’re delirious with sensation, barely able to keep track of who’s doing what to you—if not for the sound. The wet slap of Shigaraki’s hips against your ass, the horrible squelching from your (dripping wet, even if you don’t want to admit it) pussy as his cock pistons in and out of you, your choked moans and gagging noises, and above it all, the unrestrained voices of the villains fucking into you.

You feel like a fuck toy, a sex doll, used without mercy by the two most evil people you can think of…and you’re about to cum.

Your voice is getting louder by the second, and the pulsing of your cunt around Shigaraki’s cock is telling him exactly how close you are. He curls his body over yours to get a better angle to rub your clit, enjoying your high-pitched whine in response. “Yeah…that’s right…good girl. Cum on my cock…like a good little sidekick.”

You keen and goosebumps rise on your skin as Shigaraki licks at the sheen of sweat on your back. He feels your climax almost as soon as you do… If your scream wasn’t stifled by Dabi’s dick in your mouth, everyone within a one-mile radius would know you were getting fucked silly, yeah? The walls of your pussy clamp down on Shigaraki’s cock, your body begging for his cum, and he grips your ass to make sure you can’t get away as he comes to his own orgasm inside of you.

Fuck… Shigaraki could die right now and be happy. He keeps stroking your clit, knowing it’s cruel, knowing you’ll be overstimulated and sensitive and that it’ll hurt to keep touching you like this after you already came, and not caring because every time the tips of his fingers push that little magic button, you shiver and squeeze him like you’re trying to milk him dry.

Shigaraki gives a few last thrusts, pushing his cum deeper into your body, fucking it into you so you’ll be dripping white for hours, and then finally pulls out. The slurping sound your cunt makes as his cock leaves your pussy is obscene. So is the cloudy trail of mixed white and clear fluid that connects your pussy and the head of his cock until he pulls it away. He loves it.

Knowing that Shigaraki came—inside you, no less, the inconsiderate bastard—Dabi grips the back of your head and tugs you down to deepthroat him. Your walls twitch involuntarily and Dabi groans, letting himself shoot his load down your throat. “Yes…yeah…yeah…just like that. Swallow.”

You don’t swallow. You don’t do anything but gag on his cum and gasp as he thrusts into you. Dabi pulls you off of him, annoyed and ready to threaten you into submission again…until your head lolls to the side and he can see that your eyes are closed.

“Shit, she passed out.”

“…What? Are you kidding?”

Dabi slaps your face lightly. You wince in your sleep but don’t wake up. “Nope. Must’ve been when she came the second time.”

“Is she…” Shigaraki trails off, not sure how to end the question. ‘Okay’ isn’t exactly right.

“She’s breathing, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The two of them wait for a moment, but you don’t move. When he catches his breath, Shigaraki wipes off his dick and pulls up his pants. Dabi does the same. Without them holding you, you flop down into the fetal position on the broken concrete. “What now?” Shigaraki asks.

Dabi wipes the sweat from his forehead. “You tell me, leader. I’m surprised Kurogiri hasn’t opened another warp gate to get you back. Guessing you don’t have your phone either?”

“…We can go to Giran’s place to meet up. They’re probably waiting for us there,” Shigaraki says, scratching at his neck.

“Do you have cab fare?”

“I don’t have my wallet on me. You?”

“Not enough for a cab. We’ll have to take the train. You can owe me.”

Shigaraki looks down at you. You make a pitiful scene, naked except for your boots, sports bra, and cum-soaked panties. Your neck is bruised red and purple, and you’re shaking, shivering in the cool air now that the sun has sunk further toward the horizon and you’re not being touched. “Are we going to leave her here?”

“What, you want to bring her on the train with us? You don’t think that’s gonna look suspicious?”

“Well…” Their eyes meet and Shigaraki knows Dabi’s thinking the same thing he is. You have a lot of potential as an asset. They haven’t even had the chance to see how your quirk boosting works in combat, but Shigaraki almost wants to pick a fight just to give it a try.

And fighting power aside, Shigaraki isn’t a fan of the possibility that he’ll never get to fuck you again.

“Yeah, I know. But she’s a pro hero’s sidekick. She can’t be too hard to find.” Dabi shrugs off his coat and crouches next to you. You’re limp enough that he has no trouble lifting you into his lap and guiding your arms through the sleeves of his coat. Once you’re wrapped in the black fabric, he does up the buttons, combs through your hair with his fingers, wipes the mixed cum and spittle off your chin, and admires his handiwork. Sure, anyone looking closely at you will know at least a little about what happened—you’re still sweating in the cold, you have that undeniable ‘just got fucked’ look all over you, and the smell of sex is overpowering. But at least you won’t have to walk back to the rescue tent in your filthy underwear.

In your sleep, you nuzzle into Dabi’s chest, reaching blindly toward the source of warmth. He grins and strokes the back of your neck, soothing warm fingers over the bruised skin there and enjoying his last opportunity to touch you and feel your quirk working…for now, at least. “You know, I wonder why villains don’t get sidekicks. Seems a little unfair, right?”

Shigaraki’s sneer matches Dabi’s as he bends down to run his fingernails over your cheek, almost hard enough to hurt. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

#Dabi x reader #Shigaraki Tomura x reader #Shigaraki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagines #Shigaraki #Dabi #bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #mha #my hero academia #mha imagines #my hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #smut #tw noncon

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luvyanfei · 3 years

Text

with a short & insecure s/o (hcs)

ft. xiao, kaeya, zhongli, & xingqiu requested by anon

this,,, this is me

xiao.

he’s appalled when he finds out people actually tease you for your height. xiao has always known how terrible humans can be, but to think they would attempt to tear someone down, specifically his lover, just because they’re considered small irate him to no end. you might want to hold on to him tightly before he can storm off and declare war on the bullies who dared to torment you in any way.

he honestly doesn’t care if you’re short or tall, ugly or pretty - your appearance isn’t what’s important here. he fell in love with you for what’s inside of you, don’t forget that, okay? xiao may not outright say all that because he’s embarrassed of showing his soft side to you, but if your insecurity gets the better of you, he’ll at least lend an ear to you as you rant to him while stargazing together.

however, what xiao despises more than others treating you poorly is you belittling yourself. he has zero tolerance for that kind of attitude and will react quite aggressively, gripping you by the shoulders and shaking you. he can’t help himself. it hurts him deeply, dare he say more than a stab to his heart, seeing you wallowing in self-hatred. he’s harsh, but he means well. xiao would much rather see a content smile on your face than having you look disconsolate.

“have you finally stopped your wailing yet?” xiao peers at your face drenched in tears in disinterest, but really, he’s pretty concerned on the inside. your sobs have been reduced to quiet sniffles, but your body won’t stop trembling. he looks away for a minute, sighs heavily, and pulls you into his arms, a blush coating his cheeks.

he stays silent the whole time, too nervous to do anything really, as your palms press against his chest lightly and will yourself to calm down. xiao clears his throat and brings a finger down to brush away the glistening tears from your eyes.

“look, just because you’re short, it doesn’t mean i don’t like you any less,” he whispers only for you to hear, and presses his lips to your forehead, letting it linger there for a few seconds. “even if you, or anybody else, don’t think you’re worthy enough, i at lease still care about you, so don’t let others’ opinions get to you.”

kaeya.

not to be blunt or anything, but kaeya being, well kaeya, he’s probably going to relentlessly tease you. he doesn’t do it because he harbors any ill-intent towards you. it’s just, kaeya is very fond of your flustered expression. if you happen to end up crying from his words, he’ll immediately stop and apologize guiltily. the last thing he needs is for you to abandon him too because of a fault on his end.

kaeya really does love you a lot, despite your flaws and silently admires you for your empathy and altruism. one good thing about being shorter than your boyfriend is that you can wear his clothing on and he’ll be a gushing mess in no time. he’ll purposefully place his jacket somewhere for you to find in hopes you’ll put it on. he may be doing this just for the purpose of having fun, but he likes knowing that it means you're comfortable and accepting in your relationship with him.

he likes patting you on the head when you pass by each other at random times, his lips curling in a knowing smirk. if you ever need help obtaining items that are out of your reach, kaeya will conveniently be there to lend a hand. it fuels his confidence how you always go to him for help instead of seeking support from someone who might be more reliable. it goes to show that your trust in him is deep.

“having difficulties, [name]?” kaeya hollers to gain your attention as you look down from the ladder to glance at the knight, your hand outreached to grab at the material you need with failed attempts. “allow me to be of service~”

he gestures for you to climb down and gets up the ladder himself, easily grasping the object in his fingers. once his feet has touched the ground, he lowers his hand to give it to you, but before your fingertips can make contact with it, he pulls it away from you. "ah ah ah~ shouldn’t i get some kind of a compensation for helping my dearest?” you stare at him in confusion before an idea plants itself in your head. ah. so that’s what he wants. with a roll of your eyes, you stride up the ladder till your eyes meet and kisses him on the lips.

as you push your body away from him, he gives a closed-eye grin and nods in satisfaction. “that wasn’t too bad, now was it?” kaeya finally hands you the item, but he grips your free hand in his and guides it to press against his warm cheek. “you should realize by now what you’re capable of doing, stealing my heart like this. you’re so cruel [name], but perhaps that’s why i’ve grown to love you.”

zhongli.

zhongli is an honest and good-natured man. he’ll immediately tell you that he doesn’t think to care about your height, so there’s no reason for you to worry about it either. he’s not an idiot though. he’s aware that your self-deprecating thoughts won’t disappear so easily with his consoling words alone. actions speak louder than words, after all.

if anyone ends up insulting you for your size, zhongli won’t hesitate to politely stand up for you. although, if they stubbornly persist in demeaning you, it’ll push him to the brink of indignation, but he’ll still attempt to keep up a courteous manner for your sake as he calmly tells them to back off. like kaeya, he loves it when you wear his clothing! he’s lived for a long time to see many things, but witnessing you cuddling him while his jacket is draped snugly over your body has got to be the cutest thing he’s seen yet.

ever the supportive individual, zhongli will help you come out of your shell and build up on your self-esteem. he’s there with you every step of the day, so if you ever slip and feel like you’re about to fall into an abyss of despair, he’ll take your out-stretched hands in his and guide you back into the light.

“[name], is something the matter? you look as if you’re bothered by something.” zhongli questions innocently, studying your face carefully. your eyes droop slightly, but you reassure him that you were pondering how it would feel like if you were as tall as him. he nods in understanding and brings a hand up to his chin in thought.

before you know it, he’s turned his back towards you and kneeled down. perplexed, you stare at him, unsure of what he’s doing. “you said you desired to know what it’s like to be around my height, so this is the only thing i can think of.” hesitantly, you place your hands on his shoulder blades to balance yourself and he makes sure to hold onto you tightly as he stands up slowly. you smile in appreciation at zhongli’s consideration over your feelings and presses your body closer to his.

he beams back at you, sealing a kiss to your lips. “if you ever feel down, remember that there’s at least one person in the world that loves you - one of them being me, of course.”

xingqiu.

he also reacts similar to kaeya, although his teasing is slightly toned down and less vocal. like, if you wanted to give him a kiss on the cheek, he might lean away from you and probably use a stool to make himself taller, but he’ll stop after a bit of fun and laughter. it’s not funny unless both of you are smiling, right?

he finds your short stature to be one of your charm points and will compliment you for that, calling you adorable and such. it’s kind of perfect for him because he likes being the big spoon, embracing you from behind and nuzzling his face against the back of your neck. if you’re around the same age as him, it’s alright! there’s still time for you to grow. he’s sure the both of you will be tall soon. there’s no judgement when you’re with him, so don’t be afraid of being yourself around xingqiu, alright?

if he finds out your confidence is still lacking, he’ll scribble down a list of all the things he loves about you for you to read to lift your spirits up! although, that might prove to be a challenge considering his handwriting is infamously known for being illegible.

“hmm... isn’t that the picture we took at liyue harbor together?” xingqiu observes the photo in your hand, reminiscing the fond memories. his honey irises flicker to you. “hey, what’s with the frown?”

you shake your head and tries to change the subject, but he presses on to persuade you into explaining. when you finally do, he bursts into a fit of laughter, wiping away the tears pricking the edge of his eyes. “i apologize for my behavior, but [name], you shouldn’t have to concern yourself with such a trivial matter.” he tucks away a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his index finger ghosting over your lips.

“have i ever told you that you’re cute?” xingqiu murmurs, a sense of genuine compassion laced in his tone. “don’t stare at me like that, please. i’m quite serious, so there’s no need to compare yourself with me. no matter the height difference, i’ll always love you - if you’ll allow me too.

tagging. @liliisacutieowo, @scarymoosh

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #kaeya #kaeya x reader #xingqiu x reader #xingqiu

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

I'm fond of time travel aus, especially yours, so what if just LWJ travelled back to the gusu lectures, either during the 13/16 years or after all the events of canon.

Lan Wangji walked slowly towards the room where his uncle’s lectures were held. He had no reason to drag his feet – this was a chance to change the past for the better, to stop so many terrible things from happening – and yet, he couldn’t resist going even more slowly than usual.

He was a little worried. So much rested on his shoulders.

What would be the right place to make the first change?

“Enjoy the lecture, Wangji,” his brother said as he passed him, returning from his own morning chores.

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said noncommittally.

“Wait,” Lan Xichen said, stopping and turning to look at him. “Hold on. What happened?”

Lan Wangji hesitated.

“Something big?”

“It isn’t –”

“How bad?” Lan Xichen’s eyes went wide. “That bad? How many people died?”

Lan Wangji winced – the answer was, of course, a very great deal, but that was all in the future and hadn’t happened yet – but Lan Xichen read the answer off of him at once.

“That many deaths couldn’t have happened without me knowing,” Lan Xichen said, clearly thinking it through. “And you were fine yesterday. Was it a dream? No, you wouldn’t panic over a dream. Did something happen at night –”

“I’ve returned from the future to change the past,” Lan Wangji blurted out. He couldn’t help it. He’d never been a good liar, and it’d been such a long time since he’d seen his brother so energic over anything…

“Oh,” Lan Xichen said, and visibly relaxed. “Okay. That’s fine. As long as you’re all right, and nobody’s died yet. Let me help?”

When he put it that way – how could Lan Wangji say no?

“Wangji?” his uncle called as he entered the hanshi. It was a little early for lectures to be finished – it must have been one of the shorter days, perhaps.

“In here, with me,” Lan Xichen called.

Lan Qiren entered, a worried furrow in his brow. “You missed the lecture. I was concerned.”

Lan Wangji bowed his head. He’d gotten so caught up with talking with his brother that he had forgotten – it was strange, to still have responsibilities that meant going places he was told to go, doing what he was told to do. It’d been years since he had been the one attending classes, rather than teaching them.

And Lan Xichen had acted so naturally about it all that he’d just forgotten. And in forgetting, he’d worried his uncle, which he hadn’t meant to do – his uncle had always meant well, even when they disagreed. He hadn’t allowed his affection for Lan Wangji to stop him from doing what he believed to be the right thing, such as in the battle against Wei Wuxian, but in every other instant he was often Lan Wangji’s staunchest ally within the sect.

It’d been his forceful arguments that had convinced the rest of the sect to allow a formal marriage between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, when Lan Wangji had been certain that the most he would ever get was a quiet understanding and being left alone.

“Wangji’s returned from the future,” Lan Xichen announced. “He’s nearly as old as you are, and married.”

“Married?” Lan Qiren asked. “To who? That Wei boy?”

Lan Wangji turned to stare.

His uncle looked back at him. “What? Did you think you were being subtle?”

Lan Wangji opened and closed his mouth. He knew he wasn’t, of course, but he’d assumed his lack of subtlety had started…somewhat later in life. According to Lan Xichen, he hadn’t known Wei Wuxian for more than a week at this point.

“My relationship is not what I returned to fix,” he finally said. “There are other events –”

“It is that Wei boy!” His uncle looked – delighted? What? “An excellent choice, Wangji. You’re well matched.”

Lan Wangji felt his ears turning red. His uncle had certainly never said that to him in his past life.

Of course, if he had, Lan Wangji as he had been back then might have died of pure mortification, so it was probably for the best.

“You think so?” Lan Xichen asked. “He seems a bit – excitable –”

“It’ll be good for Wangji to have a challenge,” his uncle said, his eyes curving in a smile. “Someone to excite him every day.”

“I came to tell you about war,” Lan Wangji said, a little desperate to make them stop. “With the Wen sect -”

“The inevitability of war can wait,” Lan Qiren said. “First – do you have any children?”

“…one.”

“You have a child!” Lan Xichen exclaimed. “Wangji! You didn’t say! How wonderful! You have to tell us everything!”

Lan Wangji wondered exactly how he had reached this point.

Nie Huaisang had developed a new habit that Lan Wangji didn’t know what to make of.

It hadn’t happened in his first life – certainly not at the Cloud Recesses, but not at any other point thereafter – and that made it strange. For a little while, Lan Wangji was afraid that Nie Huaisang had also returned from the future, since he wouldn’t put it past the Headshaker to have figured out his own way back for his own purposes, but after feeling him out a little he didn’t think so.

But that made what he was doing all the stranger.

From what Lan Wangji remembered, Nie Huaisang had been a little afraid of him during this time, and had largely avoided him, preferring to spend time with Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng. So why was he now following him around, talking about all manner of random things? He often didn’t even provide context for the subjects he brought up, and sometimes merely listed off names of people or places or even sometimes things.

It was totally nonsensical.

At first, Lan Wangji tried to ignore him, but it had no impact whatsoever. Nie Huaisang just continued what he was doing.

In the end, Lan Wangji cracked first, turning to him all at once while they were walking alone in the garden - or, well, Lan Wangji was walking his patrols, and Nie Huaisang was tagging along. “What are you doing?”

“Getting answers,” Nie Huaisang answered promptly, as if he’d only been waiting for Lan Wangji to ask.

Lan Wangji frowned at him.

Nie Huaisang was still young at this point – young and lazy and frivolous. But Lan Wangji had seen what steel lay beneath, in the years to come, and he would not make the mistake of underestimating him as so many others did.

“What answers?” he asked. “To what questions?”

“I want to know the future, of course!” Nie Huaisang said. “And since it’s obvious that you know it, I’m picking your brain.”

Lan Wangji stared.

His brother figuring it out, he could understand. His uncle had been told directly. Wei Wuxian wouldn’t have surprised him, being both a genius and Lan Wangji’s soulmate. But – Nie Huaisang?

“How?” he asked.

“You very suddenly changed in how you reacted to things,” Nie Huaisang said with a shrug. “I tried to think of all the reasons there might be for it, given the constraints of time and place, and I’ve been testing and eliminating various options ever since. You wince when you think about someone who gets hurt eventually, you know.”

“…I do?”

Nie Huaisang nodded.

“Why are you telling me this?” Lan Wangji asked. The Nie Huaisang of the future was capable of an amazing degree of deception – he could not bring himself to believe that the younger version had been so careless by accident. Especially not with how eager he was to answer Lan Wangji’s questions.

“I want details,” Nie Huaisang said. “Obviously.”

“No.” Lan Wangji didn’t need to think twice about it. It was one thing to tell his family – he hadn’t planned to, but they knew him too well for him to avoid it – and entirely another to let the master schemer have such an advantage.

Nie Huaisang caught his arm.

“I don’t think you entirely understand, Lan-er-gonzi,” he said. “You flinch whenever anyone says my brother’s name. I want to know why, and I want to stop it from happening.”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to find that steel core so near to the surface, even this young, and yet somehow it was.

“And if I refuse?” he asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.

“You won’t. You have a big brother, too, and you flinch when his name gets said if you’re not paying attention.”

Nie Huaisang was really too smart.

“I won’t,” he agreed. “But supposing I did, what would have been your next step?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Nie Huaisang said. “I would have asked your brother to get it out of you.”

Lan Wangji sighed.

#mdzs #lan wangji #lan xichen #lan qiren #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #vyther15

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whumperooni · 4 years

Text

Scorched

Pairing: Enji x Reader

Word count: 7.2k

Tags/Warnings: A/B/O; tw breeding kink; tw noncon/dubcon; tw angst/no happy ending; rough sex; tw dumbification (i think?)

A/N: Uhhh, this ended up a lot different than I originally intended. I might do a rewrite in the future/alternate ending? Who knows! Sorry for the angst at the end;;;;

“....Natsuo? Are you- are you sure this is really okay?” You feel bad for asking, but you can’t help letting the question slip out- it feels so...not wrong per say, but it feels so very much like you’re intruding as you look at the looming Todoroki estate. It’s so big- fancy and traditional, beautiful and intimidating- and you bite your lip in worry as you eye it, grip your suitcase tighter. Someone like you doesn’t belong in a place so grand. “Of course it’s okay! Fuyumi was psyched when I told her you were gonna stay the weekend with us!” Natsuo pops his head out from the trunk of the cab and he sends an easy grin your way- sweet, but doing little to ease your nerves. “But, um…what about your dad?” you mumble, shuffling in place and sending the home in front of you an anxious glance. “I don’t think...I don’t think he’d want some random stranger-” “It’s fine.” It’s curt, his voice. Cold. You flinch from it and guilt pokes at you- you know your friend has...issues with his father (though he won’t really talk about them) and you feel bad about bringing up someone that upsets him. (Though, it is a fair question- the house belongs to Enji Todoroki. And you really don’t want to get on the number one hero’s bad side.) You bite your lip, head ducking, and miss the way that Natsuo’s eyes soften at your submittance. You do catch the sigh he lets out, though, and the way his hand falls to the top of your head. He offers another smile- something smaller and a little tired, somewhat less easy than the first- and he pets your hair with a gentle touch that almost has you purring. “It’s fine,” he tells you- softer and without the ice from before. “I promise. Dad is never home and, well, even if he does come home, it’ll be okay. It’s really no big deal.” You doubt that, but you don’t protest anymore- you just nod your head like a good girl and offer him a hesitant smile in return. “Okay, Natsuo,” you mumble. You force your smile a little bigger and take a breath, nod again. “Besides, we’re already here.” When your smile grows this time, it’s more natural. “And I can’t possibly pass up your sister’s famous cooking.” Natsuo grins and he ruffles your hair, grabs your suitcase before pulling away. “C’mon then- Fuyumi’s waitin’ for us.” You huff, but you follow after him- smiling just a little to yourself despite the nerves quietly jittering and fading away underneath your skin. You have always wondered what Natsuo’s family home looks like. And you’ve really wanted to meet Fuyumi after hearing so much about her from her brother. She seems nice, enthusiastic and you really do want to get to know someone that’s so important to your friend- it’ll be nice to finally meet her. You smile at the thought and step through the gateway and onto the Todoroki estate. You immediately seize up and freeze. Everything smells like...cinnamon whiskey. Cigars. Hot metal. Scorching, fierce, searing heat. It smells like alpha. (It smells good.) “...you okay?” You startle- eyes wide and hands shaking. You hadn’t realized that you had stopped- hadn’t realized that you had frozen up like a newly presented omega smelling an alpha for the first time. You touch the scent blocker plastered to your neck and breathe in deep through your mouth, try to gather yourself before Natsuo can worry even more. (What a pathetic, embarrassing response. You’ve been presented for so long now- you should be used to these things. You shouldn’t be frozen and startled with beads of sweat prickling at your hairline, your heart pounding in a frenzy against your rib cage. ….but god, though, that scent is something else- faint now that you’ve gotten used to it but still so...so… So striking. Just a whiff had frozen you in place and you know it’s just from the way Enji-san has marked the territory with a fierce, protective nature but, still, that’s remarkable. A little scary. It makes you nervous over how you’d react if you ran into the real thing.) You gulp and your fingers press tighter against your neck, push at your blocker as if it’ll make it work even better. ...you should probably take another suppressor soon. (You really hope they’ll withstand Endeavor if he comes home.) A shaky breath and you force a smile on your face, wrap your arms around yourself as you take a trembling step forward. “S-Sorry,” you apologize, a breathless laugh leaving you. It sounds quivering and overwhelmed- something so embarrassing. You fluster and hurry forward until you’re by Natsuo’s side, look up at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. “I’m okay.” He eyes you, puzzled, and you feel a rush of gratitude that he’s a beta- that he can’t catch your overwhelmed scent that’s flared up at his father’s own scent. (You can only imagine how well that would go if he were to find out.) “I’m fine, I promise,” you tell him more earnestly. You wrap your hands around his arm and flash him a big smile, hope that’s enough to erase his worry. “Let’s hurry so we can settle in and I can meet your big sis, huh?” Natsuo eyes you, but he nods and starts walking, tugs you along toward the waiting home. “Yeah, come on,” he says with a faint smile. “Let’s go.” You walk with him and try to ignore the fluttering in your chest, the way a scalding scent is swirling around you. ~~~~~~~~~~~ “Natsuo, I can’t believe it took so long for you to bring her here!” Natsuo grins, hand rubbing the back of his neck, and you duck your head with a smile as Fuyumi wraps you up in a quick hug. She smells nice- like vanilla and spiced oranges- and it’s almost a disappointment when she pulls away to smile down at you. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she tells you- warm and cheery. “Natsuo’s told me so much about you!” You blush- you can’t help it- and you gently elbow Natsuo in the side whenever he laughs. “He’s told me a lot about you too,” you say- maybe just a little shy but smiling all the same. “Fuyumi, I’m gonna go put her stuff in the guest room,” Natsuo pipes up. “Is dinner almost done?” Fuyumi nods and Natsuo grins- pleased as punch as he begins to walk away. You remember your need for suppressants and quickly reach a hand to grab onto Natsuo’s jacket, look up at him with sheepish eyes whenever he cocks a brow your way. “I, um, need something from my suitcase,” you tell him- trying not to let stray embarrassment show on your face. “I’ll go with you.” He just shrugs and you scamper after him- waving to Fuyumi with a little smile. The house is big- bigger than you had realized. It’s as nice on the inside as it is on the outside- very traditional and very simplistic, elegant. You can tell that everything is expensive and well taken care of on top of that. It’s nothing like the little house in the ‘burbs that you grew up in and, honestly, you would be lying if you said you weren’t in awe as you followed Natsuo throughout his family home. It’s so nice. You feel guilty for being in it for some reason- like your presence is going to somehow dirty such an immaculate, dignified home. It’s a ridiculous feeling, but you still find yourself sticking closer to Natsuo than you normally would, you find your hands curling up against your chest as you walk so they don’t brush against anything. “My room is just across the hall,” Natsuo informs you, pointing ahead. “So if ya need anything, you can knock.” You nod when he looks at you and eye his room in interest whenever he looks away. You’re kind of curious over what your friend’s room looks like- it’s nosey, maybe, but you can’t help but want to peek your head in and poke around. The room that Natsuo shows you to is plain- nice but plain; clearly a guest room. It’s going to be strange sleeping on a futon- you’ve always had a bed-, but somehow you’re kind of excited for it. It’s a little...novel? A new experience. “The bathroom’s down the hall on the left,” Natsuo tells you as he sets your suitcase down. You nod and he stretches his arms high above his head, shows off a sliver of a toned stomach that you politely avert your eyes from. “I’ll give you some time to settle in and then we’ll join Fuyumi for dinner?” You nod, smiling at him, and hum out a little, “Yeah, that sounds good.” Natsuo smiles in return and then he turns to leave. As soon as the door is closed behind him, you rush to your suitcase and unlock it with fumbling, clumsy hands. Enji-san’s scent is stronger inside the house- you absolutely need to make sure you take your suppressants. You paw through your suitcase looking for the little bottle of pills, getting frantic when it’s not in the side pocket you thought you had put it in. It’s not stuffed underneath your clothes or in your makeup bag either and you start to panic then, empty your suitcase onto the floor to sift through everything. It’s...it’s not there. How is it not there? An upset noise claws its way up your throat and you turn from your suitcase and toward your purse. There’s an emergency little pill case in there, but it only has two suppressants- enough for tonight and tomorrow. Not enough if Enji-san comes home. Hand clenching around the case, you swallow hard and try to calm down. Natsuo said that his father shouldn’t come home this weekend- that he’s rarely ever home. It should be fine; you should be okay. If...if he comes home, you’ll just have to make an excuse and leave. Or try to bear it- though you really doubt you’ll be able to. God, maybe you should ask Fuyumi if she has any? They won’t be near strong enough for you, but in a pinch… You’d have to explain why you need them, though, and that’s almost as embarrassing as Natsuo finding out that your oversensitive omegan senses are prickling in instinctual interest at his father’s territorial scent. God, being a fecund is such a pain. You whine to yourself softly- cheeks flushed in guilt and hand hurting from holding onto the pill case so tight. It’s an embarrassing situation, but it’s your fault for forgetting your suppressants at home so you’re just going to have to suck it up and deal with it. (And pray that the number one hero is kept busy chasing criminals all night long) You swallow and tuck your pills back into your purse, begin to put everything back into your suitcase. It’ll be okay, you tell yourself. He’s not going to come home. I’m going to be okay. Nervously, you tidy up after yourself and try to pretend that there’s nothing wet between your legs. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “-and now my class is not allowed to have pencil grips.” You giggle, not able to help it, and hide it behind your hand, smile at Natsuo whenever he shoots you a grin. Fuyumi is unexpectedly funny- you’re really enjoying yourself. (Even with your nerves still so frayed and your instincts still trying to react to Enji-san’s strong, strong scent.) You swallow, smile wavering, and hide it with a quick drink of wine. The Todoroki’s have very good wine- of course they do. It’s a luxury for you to enjoy- you usually end up grabbing the cheapest bottle from the corner store; you hardly ever get to enjoy something top shelf. You take another sip of the wine and blush whenever Fuyumi looks over you, set it down hastily. She doesn’t say anything- only smiles gently- and that helps you relax back down, gets you smiling back at her- albeit a bit abashedly. You hope that she hasn’t picked up on your stress- it would be much, much too embarrassing if your best friend’s older sister knew that you were battling against the way their father’s scent is trying to pull you into need. “Aren’t you taking them on a field-” A trilling ring cuts Natsuo off and he huffs at that, checks his phone and then smiles apologetically at you both. “Sorry, that’s my lab mate,” he explains. “I gotta take this- we’re working on a group project.” You nod along with Fuyumi and Natsuo gets up and walks out of the room- leaving you alone with his older sister and a quick ripple of nerves that has your fingers curling into your palms. There’s quiet for a moment and you bite your lip in a sudden whip of shyness, take another sip of wine. Fuyumi merely watches and smiles at you, fingers her own glass. “Are you alright?” she asks, just a bit softly. She tucks her hair behind her ear whenever you blink at the question, bites her lip and looks almost guilty for a moment. “I, um, I know that it can be a little jarring coming here for the first time. Dad kind of...well, he kind of gets carried away with marking his territory…” Oh, fuck. You choke on your spit as your eyes widen and Fuyumi hastily raises her hands, blushes as she waves them around. “I’m sorry! I didn’t want to bring it up, but I know that it can be hard to deal with and I’m sure that Natsuo didn’t warn you! And, well, you’re a fecund so it’s worse for you and I just- I just wanted to make sure you’re okay!” Natsuo told her? Embarrassment, shame runs through you and you have to bite your lip to hide a noise that wants to sound, you dig your nails into your thighs as upset washes over you. You don’t like telling people that you’re a fecund. You don’t like people knowing that you’re such a weak, pathetic thing. Who else has he told? Worry ripples through you and there’s an undercurrent of betrayal; Natsuo knows how hard you try to keep your status a secret and it hurts that he spilled it- even if it was just to his older sister. Fuyumi must be able to see the upset on your face- her own expression softens and there’s regret in it, something apologetic in her eyes. She doesn’t seem to be judging you or looking down on you and it helps, a little, but you still can’t quite reel in your frustration despite your instinctual efforts to do so. Great- now you’ve made things uncomfortable. Good going, idiot. Your lips quiver and you force a smile to form, clench your hands into fists tight enough to make all your fingers ache. “I…” You have to clear your throat to compose yourself, keep the hurt and shame from your voice. “I...I’m okay.” There’s a flicker of disbelief in her eyes, but it disappears quickly and your cheeks burn as her gaze turns pitying. “...if you need anything, please let me know,” Fuyumi tells you gingerly, kindly. It should be comforting, but it only brings more embarrassment and you hate yourself a little bit for not feeling grateful like you should. “Dad shouldn’t...he shouldn’t be home tonight. And, um, if he does come home, it wouldn’t be for long...I- I’ll warn you if he says anything about turning up…” You wince internally and all you can is nod, hang your head as you whisper out a strained, “thank you.” It’s quiet after that, uncomfortable. Fuyumi, for her part, looks guilty but she doesn’t try to say anything more. The silence only gets broken whenever Natsuo returns and you force a smile on your face even if you can’t quite look at him, even as your heart hurts and your nails dig deeper into your palms. You take a long drink of your wine and listen as he starts chattering about his project, stare at the table as worry and upset crowd your mind. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Several glasses of wine later, your upset is forgotten. Your worry is still there, but it’s blurred under your fuzzy senses, easier to deal with. Or, accept, maybe? It’s hard to say, but you do know that you’re more relaxed- not frantically fighting against Enji-san’s scent but softening into it, letting yourself be tugged slowly into the submissive thing you were born to be. It’s almost comforting now, that simmering scent. You’re starting to feel...hazy. Loose and small but in a good way. Though, that could be from the wine. It could be from the way you’ve found yourself snuggled up and purring against Natsuo’s chest. It’s a good contrast- the toasty scent clouding your senses and your best friend’s cool, soothing touch. You’re not overwhelmed by one or the other and it’s easier to maintain yourself when you can press your flushed cheek against Natsuo’s shoulder, burrow your nose into his neck and inhale his neutral, cleansing scent. A purr works its way through you and you curl your fingers into Natsuo’s shirt, knead at the fabric and look up at him with half-shut eyes. He’s flushed, like you, and there’s a content smile on his face, something in his eyes that you can’t put a name to. He looks happy. That’s good- you want him to be happy. Your purr ups its tempo and Natsuo laughs a little- though you’re not sure why. His hand smooths over your hair and a chirp slips from your lips whenever it travels down to your back, starts to rub slow, cool circles along you. “You’re so soft right now,” Natsuo mumbles. “I’ve never seen you like this…” He hasn’t? Oh, you suppose not… You hum and let your eyes shut, sigh contently when the arm wrapped around your waist holds you a bit more snug to him. Like this, you can almost forget your hurt from before. Almost. You shake your head against him as you feel your upset try to bubble to the surface, curl your fingers tighter into his shirt. You don’t want to be upset and stressed again. You just- you just want to relax. You just want to keep feeling nice and dreamy and a little thick. The sound of footsteps has your eyes creaking open and you blink slowly toward Fuyumi when you spot her in the doorway of Natsuo’s room. She looks...worried? You don’t know why, feel guilty over it for some reason. When you chirp softly at her, her brows furrow and you nearly get up to take her by the hand, draw her into your nest so you can nuzzle her until her worry goes away. Nest...no, wait, no. It’s not a nest you’re in- it’s Natsuo’s futon. His big, comfy futon with its cool sheets and soft pillows, fluffy padding. How did you get into his futon again? (How much did you drink?) You blink again, a little confused, and miss the way Fuyumi bites her lip, the way she hugs herself and casts a nervous look Natsuo’s way. “Natsuo…” You feel him shift underneath you and that rocks your world a bit, has your eyes shutting once more. You don’t catch the words she whispers or what Natsuo says in return, but you do feel the way Natsuo hugs you a little closer whenever Fuyumi’s so very pleasing scent drifts away and it gets drowned out by Enji-san’s so very dominating one. Cool fingers brush against your cheek and slip along your jawline, down under your chin. You whine, softly, whenever Natsuo tilts your head up to look up at him and blink heavily under his scrutinizing gaze. Why is he looking at you like that? “...are you okay?” he asks, after a few seconds of silence. Your head tilts in question and Natsuo huffs gently. “...when was your...when was your last heat?” Your last heat? You can’t remember your last heat, not really. It was drugged and fuzzy, horrible with your leaden limbs and the way you were all alone without an alpha. You’ve...you’ve never had an alpha during your heat. You’ve never had an alpha at all, actually. But- but there’s an alpha here. You can smell him. He’d take care of you- he should be taking care of you. Where is he- where is- Your lashes flutter with furious blinks and a sharp inhale has you almost choking on the scent cloying your senses. You shiver and nearly scratch Natsuo as you grip at his shirt tighter, flush in muffled embarrassment when you vaguely realize where your mind was going. Oh...oh you shouldn’t have drank so much. The moment of clarity helps to jar your mind into something almost functioning and you shudder, squeeze your eyes shut so you don’t have to see your best friend’s concern. “Natsuo...I…” You trail off, swallow back a whine that wants to sound. “Can you...my purse...I have- need to take my suppressor…” You feel the deep breath he takes, feel the way his arm around you tightens. There’s a swallow from Natsuo- audible and something that has you feeling guilty- and then his hand pats your hair, he moves to sit up. “Yeah...yeah. Give me a sec.” You don’t want to move. You don’t want to let him up- you were so comfortable before. But your clarity is lingering and you know that you need him to fetch your pills for you, you know that you can’t sink further into this. (Stupid girl, how could you weaken so much?) Reluctantly, you sit up and out of the way. The smile that Natsuo gives you is a little strained, but the way he ruffles your hair is kind, gentle. When he gets up, you move to curl against the pillows and that’s when you feel something slick on your thighs, that’s when you realize that your panties are wet. When did that happen? Did- did Natsuo know? Did Fuyumi know? You don’t- you don’t understand- when- Embarrassment claws its way out of you in the form of a whimper and shame chases after it- panic, too. You swipe at the slick on your thighs almost frantically and whine as you try to scrub it away, tear up in drunken upset. Humiliating. You manage to rub the tears away before Natsuo comes back, but you’re not quite able to get your wobbling bottom lip under control. He startles in the doorway when he sees you and you hang your head in shame, don’t look at him whenever he passes a small pill and a glass of water to you. The water is soothing, at least. The pill is soothing, too- you know it’ll kick in soon and you’ll be able to gain control of yourself, pull back from the path you were wandering down. Natsuo sits quietly beside you as you drain the glass and you sniffle your embarrassment, hunch your shoulders tight. “...’m sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t...I don’t…” Natsuo’s arm wraps around you and his hand finds the side of your head, gently pushes you until you’re leaned up against him. “...it’s okay,” he sighs out. You flinch because you know it’s not okay- it’s not okay at all. You’ve ruined things. “You’re not- you’re not going into heat are you?” You wince and you shake your head, hide your face against his broad shoulder. It’s not a lie...you think. It’s just- you’ve just been overwhelmed is all. Overwhelmed and drunk. You’re not- of course you’re not. You can’t be… You grip the glass tight between your hands and shake your head against him, let out a shivery exhale. “I just...I just drank too much,” you mumble. “‘M sorry, Natsuo…” He sighs again, big hand moving to pet over your hair. The cool kiss he gives to your temple is a surprise and soft noise leaves you when his lips press to you, your tension unwinds whenever he nuzzles against you. “You don’t have to apologize,” he tells you- firm but so kind, so sweet. His lips find your temple again and something in you squirms, another soft noise bubbles up and out of your throat. “...are you okay staying here tonight? If you want, I can-” You shake your head before he can finish the suggestion. Even if you’re still fuzzy and drunk, you can’t let yourself be a further burden on your friend, his family- you’re going to have to just make it through the night here and deal with any embarrassment in the morning. ...you hope Natsuo won’t look down on you when you wake. “I-I’m okay,” you insist- words stumbled, fumbled. “I’m fine. Just- just drank too much.” You lift your head and force a smile on your face, grip the glass tight once more as you try not to tremble at the sight of his furrowed brow, his worried frown. Natsuo’s hand finds your cheek and you shudder at the touch, press into his palm and try to cling to your clarity. “I’m okay,” you repeat- softer and with lowered lashes. You reach up to touch his hand and press it more against his cheek, bite your lip when his eyes widen and then soften. “I promise…” He stares down at you and you blink up at him. It’s quiet quiet quiet until Natsuo breathes in deep, gives a small nod. “Okay...I...okay…” He breathes in deep again and you let your hand drop, close your eyes whenever his moves from you as well. “Do you want...do you want to watch a movie or something?” Natsuo suggests- awkward, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. You nod because, yes, that does sound nice and, honestly, what else can you do? Natsuo moves to get comfortable and you hesitate for a moment before creeping close to him, curling up against his chest. The arm he wraps around you is firm, helps you believe that maybe he doesn’t think you’re a gross and pathetic thing. You don’t want Natsuo to think you’re gross. You don’t want him to think you’re pathetic. Natsuo puts a movie on and you close your eyes, curl your fingers into his shirt. He pets over you and you try to sink into the softness from before, avoid drowning too much in it. You drift off- dizzy and still washed over in shame, still wet between your thighs. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ...thirsty. Eyes creaking open, lips parting with a croak, you peel yourself off of Natsuo and rub your eyes with shaking hands. Thirsty. Hungry. Hot. You fumble out of the futon and Natsuo doesn’t stir, doesn’t move as you crawl away from him and stand on weak legs. Feels...you feel… ...fuzzy? You shiver and hug yourself, find your palms wet whenever they touch against your arms. Hot and cold. Doesn’t- doesn’t make sense. You’re- you’re- Thirsty. Hungry. Hot. Cold. Fuzzy. ...lonely? But Natsuo is still there...you shouldn’t be...but...he’s not- he’s not… You shake your head and rub your hands over your arms, look back toward the hallway. You’re just...you just need...you just need some water. That’s it...that’s- that’s all you need… You squeeze your eyes shut tight until stars spark up behind your lids, breathe in deep to try to clear your head. ...you’re fine. You just need some water. Another deep breath and you head toward the kitchen, dig your fingers deeper into your arms. Is it hotter in the house? It takes a moment for you to find the glasses. You try to be as quiet as you can, but your hands won’t stop shaking for reasons you don’t want to think about it. It’s...it’s hard to think anyway. Why is it so hard to think? You fill the glass with cold water and wince when your trembling hand causes droplets to splash onto you, wet your digits. You down the water faster than you have ever done before, fill the glass back up as soon as you’re done. You’re still so thirsty. You’re still so hot. Does...does it smell more like cinnamon too? Does it...can you taste whiskey on your tongue? A soft noise works its way up your throat and your lashes flutter, your thighs press together. You clutch at the counter when your knees threaten to buckle, spill the water into the sink at the sound of heavy footsteps. What...who… You whimper and turn your head toward the doorway- movements so sluggish and a gasp catching in your throat, sweat beading along your hairline. Enji-san- Enji- alpha- Flames lick into the kitchen and you slump against the counter, whimper once more as turquoise eyes stare you down. What is he- he’s not supposed to- he’s- “Al- alpha…” Enji takes a step toward you and your knees buckle, your nails scratch against the counter as you desperately try to keep yourself upright. Not supposed to be here. He’s not- he’s not- why is he- alpha- alpha- alpha smells so good- Your lashes flutter and your head tilts back with a moan, your mind clouds over even as panic pricks through you. Enji takes another step and a growl breaks through the quiet of the room, his shoe sole scorches a mark into the beautiful floor. “Who,” he rumbles out, “are you?” Your palm slips from the counter and your legs tremble, you start to fall to your knees. A thick arm wraps around your waist and drags you back up before you can hit the floor, crushes you against a broad chest. You go limp in the hold and shudder whenever fingers tilt your head up to look at him, whine softly as they splay down and brush over your throat. They’re so...they’re so warm. Big. Thick. Such nice fingers, so wonderful. You want them in you. You want alpha to- to- Oh, god, what are you thinking? A growl answers the whimper that leaves you and you whine, weakly reach a hand to his chest to try to push yourself away. “Behave.” Your hand falls. His scent flares. Your lashes grow wet and his hold on you tightens, his eyes grow darker. His fingers roam over your neck and your own twitch, your chest hitches with little pants and gasps. You don’t quite realize he’s found your scent blocker until it’s peeled off and a groan is leaving him and, by then, there’s nothing you can do about it. There’s nothing you want to do about it. (But you do- you do! He’s- he’s Natsuo’s- you can’t- you can’t!!!) A snarl sounds and you squirm at it, mewl whenever you’re dragged up higher and his nose glances along your jaw, drags down to bury against your scent glands. “Fecund.” The word reverberates against your heated flesh and it’s accompanied by rough fingers digging into you, hot air fanning over your throat. Tears leak down your cheeks, but you can’t tell if it’s from overwhelming need or from fear. Both, maybe, but how can you decide on that when your whole body is trembling, when your senses are flooded with a spicy scent, when your cunt is dripping with your slick. Teeth graze over your scent glands and you whine, grip at broad shoulders and cling to your best friend’s father. You’re thrown over one of those shoulders before you can tell what’s happening and left gasping, scratching along Enji’s back and whining whenever his hand smacks against your ass. “Alpha!” A snarl is all you get in response. You’re carried through the house- down the hallway, past the guest room, past Natsuo’s bedroom. Shades of shame have more tears dripping down your cheeks and you sob as you’re hauled off past your sleeping friend, tremble as you try to rock against Enji in search for some pathetic pleasure you so desperately need. Is alpha taking you to your nest? You want- you wanna be in your nest. You wanna- you wanna be- A door gets flung open and you’re dropped onto a futon, left blinking stupidly up at Enji as he brackets himself over you and bares his teeth. He’s so big. So- so big. Perfect for taking care of you, perfect for protecting you, perfect for breeding you. You chirp at the thought and reach up to him, purr whenever he grabs your hand and presses his nose against your wrist. “Fuck...” It’s ragged, rough. Makes something tingle up your spine. Your purr rumbles louder at it and you coo when his teeth scrape against your wrist, whenever his hand reaches to your waist and pins you down. Alpha is so strong. Why were you...why were you worried before? You can’t remember… “Alpha,” you mumble- only half-aware of it, not quite able to see him as your head lolls and your back arches. “Want...want…” Enji groans against you and his scent doubles down, his grip on your waist becomes bruising. Hurts but it’s- it’s okay- alpha can- alpha can do whatever he wants. “Needy,” Enji growls, hand pushing up your shirt. You nod, whining, and he snarls- chest heaving and pupils tiny pinpricks, flames blooming feverishly. “Good mate.” Pleasure flares all throughout and you whimper as slick gushes from you, as your pussy throbs with your need, with the giddy joy and sheer thrill of being praised by such a strong alpha. Tears have your vision blurry and they bead over your lashes, drip and sear down your cheeks as you smile and shake. Good mate. You want...you want to be a good mate for alpha. Your alpha. A big hand rips your shirt off- Enji’s impatience tearing it to shreds and the fabric digging tight into your skin as he yanks it off and makes it into so many pieces. Your bra is reduced to cinders and the cry you let out from the heat only makes Enji snarl, only has him gripping your breasts with callused hands and giving a rough squeeze. “Tender little morsel,” he growls- brilliant eyes glazing over and a sizzling slather of drool gathering between his teeth. “Mine. Been so long- going to- fuck! Going to breed-” He cuts himself off with another snarl and you sob, reach up with shaking hands to grip at his shirt, desperately try to yank him down closer to you. “Ple- please! Alpha! Breed! Need- want pups! Your pups- Alpha! Alpha! Al-” (No- no- yes! Yes! NO! What are you saying? You can’t- you can’t- You want to be full so bad.) Tears stream down your cheeks as you choke on your pleading words. Enji doesn’t pay attention except to growl and bare his teeth at you, incinerate your shorts and panties. A whimper crawls from your throat as you're burned and marked, but the pain is forgotten when his teeth find your neck and his drool gets spread along it, when your legs are forced into an aching sprawl and he grinds himself mindlessly against your dripping cunt. Feels- feels good. Hurts so much. Feels so good. You need him inside you. You whine, speech forgotten and lips and tongue useless, your mind lost and swirling with need you could have never imagined before, would have feared to comprehend. It’s so hot and thoughts are truly gone from you now- all that’s left is instinct and need, the base and feral desire to be fucked and used and bred- for your purpose as a fecund to be fulfilled. (Why were you ever ashamed of your status? This is what you were born for- this is what’s bringing you such a pure happiness that you’re weeping and shaking and crying out) You don’t protest whenever your limp body is flipped over- just snivel and whine and rock your hips back against Enji- against Alpha. There’s no prep or build up or easing into it- Enji shoves his cock into you and you’re left screaming as pain and bliss sear through you in rough, overwhelming streaks. You collapse completely underneath him and come on his cock- blood dripping down along with your slick, your thick and honeyed juices. The lick to your neck helps soothe the pain and you mewl, allow your head to loll to offer your throat to him. Enji’s neverending growl deepens as his teeth scrape against your scent glands and his fingers bruise into your hips whenever you weakly clench around him, try to rock your hips despite the sting and stretch his cock brings, despite the way you’re aching so badly that you won’t be able to move tomorrow or the day after that. That’s okay, though- alpha will take care of you. Alpha...alpha will take care of you. You need him to take care of you. You can’t do anything without alpha. Enji’s hips draw back and you whine frantically at the thought of him withdrawing from you, claw at the futon and whimper out pleading, wordless mewls. You can’t have him pull away and leave you empty- you need him buried inside of you, you need him to keep you filled and full. Never leave you empty- always keep you full- you need it- you need it! Enji slams himself back into you fully and you sob as you’re filled completely again- body jarring forward with the force and his teeth tightening and digging deep into your throat. The growl that reverberates against your flesh has your body tightening, your claws tearing into soft padding. They rip through the fabric as his hips buffet against you harder and harder and tiny feathers begin to fly through the air, stick to your sweat soaked body as alpha fucks and fucks and fucks you. Through your blurred vision, it looks like snow swirling in the air- impossible coolness despite the heat burning through the room. You coo dreamily, blearily and something scratches in your mind, claws against the pleasure that dulls the pain and has all your senses so broken and drugged. Snow...cool...there’s someone- there’s a reason you shouldn’t be- who- Flaring flames scorch the feathers to ash and you shudder as they lick close to your skin, squeeze and spasm around the thick cock that’s shaping you into Enji’s perfect little hole to breed. (If he doesn’t burn you to a crisp first.) You whimper as he grunts, drip tears and cum and sweat. It’s too much. It’s not enough. You need more. You need his- you need alpha’s- you need- you need- “Kn- knot! S- seed!” The plea scratches out of your throat in a choked sob- hoarse and whiny, so needy and garbled. It’s loud enough that it covers the sound of running steps, desperate enough to make Enji roar out and shove your face into the futon, shove you down so low that your vision is halved by padding and tears as he spears his cock into you again and again and again- swelling knot catching on your slick, sore hole. Your cunt clenches down- gummy insides so desperate to be sprayed and stuffed with his scorching seed- and you’re left drooling over the futon- lashes fluttering and eyes threatening to roll back as begs get caught in your throat and stuttered out in pathetic, broken moans. Please please please wanna be filled wanna be filled so bad need seed need alpha to come need alpha to fill me alpha give me pups alpha breed me alpha please let me give you pups alpha breed your omega alpha breed your bitch alpha alpha alpha ALPHA ALPHA ALPHA- “ALPHA!” Enji comes and it hurts- his seed searing and blistering your insides, his knot slamming and sealing the boiling cum firmly in your spasming, screaming, creaming cunt. You’re yanked up by the hair and his teeth find your neck as you sob, break through your tender flesh as he marks you from the inside out. Tears drip down your cheeks and down your throat, mix with the blood that bubbles and beads through his teeth and past his lips. Hurts- hurts. But- but alpha came- alpha filled you. Alpha bred you. So you’re happy- so happy. A gurgling, broken coo sounds from you and you smile even as you tremble and fall so limp against Enji- smile even as Natsuo and Fuyumi run into the bedroom. Alpha growls against you- content- and a weak mewl leaves you when his tongue licks over his claim, when his scent falls heavy to begin to soothe you, tamp down the pain that is threatening to break you from your fog. “What did you- what did you- WHAT DID YOU DO?!” “Dad! You can’t! Why-” You clench around Enji and whimper at the intruders, twitch and shudder as your lashes flutter to a close. Want- want more- need alpha to- need him to breed you more… You pass out as Enji’s growl turns violent, as Fuyumi clamps a hand over her mouth and sobs over your blistered body and swollen stomach, as Natsuo screams his horror and rushes toward Enji- ice coating his hands and melting from the fierce heat of the room. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Alpha...when is alpha…I need him...when is coming home...?” “...soon. Rest now.” A mewl sounds and Natsuo’s heart breaks as he watches you snuggle down into your nest, tears threaten to sting at his eyes whenever you chirp softly at him, burrow your nose into one of his father’s sweaters. You’re so big. Soft and full and stupid. His best friend- his first one true love- has been reduced to nothing but a dumb little omega- a helpless thing who can’t do anything more than chirp and mewl for your alpha- for Enji. This is all his fault. He should have never brought you here. He should have known better. How could he be so stupid? Natsuo grits his teeth and clenches his hands- unable to turn his head from the way you curl around the small bump in your stomach that’s growing larger and larger each day. All he had wanted was to bring you home. All he had wanted was to introduce you to Fuyumi. All he had wanted was to spend time with you, hold you close and gather the courage to whisper his feelings to you. And now...now that’s all gone. The chance has been crushed to bits and he only gets this with you- watching over you and making sure you’re healthy, seeing the way his father’s seed is growing inside of you. He’s going to have another brother or sister. He hates it. He hates Enji. He hates you. ...he hates himself. He should have never brought you here. He should have whisked you away whenever Fuyumi whispered her nervous worries. He should have done so many things. A sigh leaves you- soft and content, sleepy as you run your hands over your stomach. Natsuo finally turns away and he leaves the room- tears wetting his lashes and the tiny shards of his broken heart shattering even smaller. He misses his best friend. He wishes he had never dragged you into his life. Natsuo heads to his room and you stay in your nest- smiling as you drift off, mind blank and all your screaming thoughts of your future and your fear muted by the scent of cinnamon whiskey and cigar smoke, hot metal and searing heat.

#enji todoroki x reader #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw breeding kink #rooni's shit

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weasleylangs · 4 years

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if you don’t know, let me go - f.w

Pairing: Fred x Fem!Slytherin!Reader Summary: It’s always seemed like they’ve been dancing the line between friends and more, so why does he take a different girl to the ball? Warnings: Some swearing, pining that one character is too much of a dummy to see, a bit of angst but it eventually becomes fluff I promise, jealousy but nothing toxic, underage drinking but it’s like one line. Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: This is my first fanfiction in literally forever, so any feedback is always appreciated! Requests are open if you like this and want more! Also this got stupidly long fast, I can barely write book reviews on Goodreads without writing a novel so my bad, I’m sorry if you don’t like long fics. (Also cross-posted on AO3 as the tumblr tags don’t seem to be my friend right now.)

- Also, thank you so much to @lumosandnoxwriting for answering all my questions on how to get back into writing!

Send me an ask or a dm if you would like to be added to a tag list!

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“Do you think he’s going to ask you?”

It’s Wednesday afternoon, late enough for class to be over but too early for dinner and Y/N’s attempt at understanding anything in her potions textbook is broken by Alicia Spinnet talking to her. Despite the fact she hadn’t said a name, Y/N knows immediately who she was talking about and she shrugs in response, closing her book and accepting that studying was not on the table for the rest of the night now the ball has been mentioned.

“Probably not.” She deadpans. Y/N’s been trying not to get her hopes up that Fred would ask her to the Yule Ball since it was announced three days ago. Alicia’s already been asked by George- who immediately did a dramatic reenactment of some muggle proposal he’d seen in a movie as soon as Dumbledore announced it. But Fred had been more reluctant to ask anyone, despite people’s assumption that he could get anyone he pleased. Y/N only hoped this was because he was too shy of taking whatever they were from friends to lovers.

No one really understood how the outspoken and mischievous redhead became friends with the snarky Slytherin girl, but 6 years into their schooling people have stopped questioning it. They had formed an unexplainable bond the second they met on the train to Hogwarts when they were eleven years old that may have included both shouting at blood purists and now it seems to have evolved into something beyond just a friendship.

Lingering stares, soft touches, the fact neither of them had really dated anyone else because they were too caught up with each other. Everyone, including their friends, have all placed bets on how long it’ll take for the two of them to ‘fess up and finally get together.

“What makes you say that?” Alicia asks, genuinely. She’s heard first hand the teasing George and Lee give Fred over his feelings for Y/N in the Gryffindor common room when they think they’re alone so she finds it hard to believe he hasn’t even hinted at them going together yet.

Y/N shrugs. “I just think if he wanted to go with me, he’d ask me by now… Y’know?” Alicia can’t really deny her logic. Fred’s never been the one to shy away from being outspoken about anything really in the whole six years she’s known him, so even she can admit it’s weird that Fred hasn’t asked her.

“Maybe he just assumes you guys are going together?” Alicia starts, and before Y/N can argue back, she holds up a hand, “I’ll ask him after dinner tonight. I can guarantee Lee or George will join in and you’ll have your date by Transfiguration tomorrow!” Y/N shakes her head and laughs, and starts packing her things, mumbling about Alicia is a meddler and that she’ll see her later.

Y/N’s walking to the Great Hall for dinner when it happens. Adrian Pucey, star quidditch chaser for the Slytherin team slinks up next to her and scares her enough to almost drop the books she has clutched in her hands. She’s never had a problem with Adrian- their parents are in similar friendship circles so she sees him at family friend events outside of school, but she’s never considered him a friend either, which is why his approach to her is so odd.

“Sorry about that,” he laughs, shoving his hands in his pockets as Y/N clutches her chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she starts, “You’re just very quiet. I’m used to being almost tackled to the ground when I see friends.” She laughs, but she doesn’t miss the awkward tension in the air and she can’t help but assume what’s coming next.

“I just wanted to ask if, uh, if you don’t have a date to the ball… If you’d like to go with me?”

Y/N gulps. She knows she shouldn’t be putting all her eggs in the Fred Weasley marked basket, but she can’t help but remember her conversation with Alicia only an hour ago.

‘You’ll have your date by Transfiguration tomorrow!’

Adrian senses her hesitation and lets out a breath that sounds like he’s almost laughing. “You’re waiting for one of Weasley twins to ask you, aren’t you? Fred, right?” She hates how easily he caught on.

“Adrian, I- Ugh, I’m sorry. But yeah… I am.” She feels her cheeks heat up in embarrassment at someone she’s not even friends with pointing it out. She can’t help but think maybe this is a sign though, that if everyone else is expecting it, why hasn’t he asked her yet?

“No, it’s all good. But the offers on the table if he’s too pussy to ask you out.” He gives a kind smile as he walks off to catch up with Marcus Flint who’s drilling Malfoy about quidditch plays.

She exhales slowly and finally makes it to the Great Hall. She scans the tables looking for her closest friend in Slytherin- Daphne Greengrass and once she finds her, she quickly makes her way over to her. Dinner is relatively uneventful since she’s sitting with her house, and George manages to catch her eye at one point and mouths ‘miss you’ to which she laughs and says she misses him back.

She’s about to get up and leave when the last thing she expects to happen, happens. She hears Ron exclaim loudly that Fred can’t make fun of him for not having a date because he doesn’t have one either. Y/N feels her heart start to race, knowing if anyone’s going to prove a point to Ron, it’ll be Fred Weasley. She doesn’t hear what Fred’s reply is but Harry and Ron both scoff, and one of them says ‘ask a girl out if it’s so easy then.’

Y/N’s about to approach the Gryffindor table when George’s eye catches her, and he shakes his head. Fred has already thrown a scrunched-up piece of paper at Angelina and her heart sinks.

“Angelina! Will you go to the ball with me?”

As Angelina laughs and says yes to Fred, it feels like the whole Great Hall is either watching their altercation or watching Y/N in pity. Her heart now feels like it’s in her throat, and she needs to get out of the room before she cries or yells at Fred. She pivots on her heel and is met face-to-face with Daphne, who nods in silent agreement that they’re going back to their dorm.

Y/N is halfway down the long tables with the door in her sights when she spots Adrian out of the peripheral of her eye. She can tell he’s looking at her in pity and in a weird way, she feels the need to show defiance against Fred Weasley. She needs to show she doesn’t need pity, especially right now, that she can get a date herself. So she stops in front of the Slytherin quidditch team and slightly smirks.

“That offer to the ball still on the table?”

Daphne spends the night taking Y/N’s mind off the Weasley family. They sit in their dorm together, once again trying to study for potions which eventually leads into ball talk yet again. Daphne can tell the idea of going to the ball with anyone who isn't Fred is unnerving for Y/N, but there’s no backing down now.

“That was kind of a badass move, y’know?” She starts, treading lightly as they eventually reach the elephant in the room, ‘Asking Adrian after what happened.”

It doesn’t feel badass to Y/N. She feels like she’s cheating on the redhead that owns her heart, but she knows that’s ridiculous. Fred clearly has no form of feelings for her and she’s decided to get over him.

“It’s nothing…” She starts and she sees Daphne’s eyebrows raise. They’ve been roommates every year since they started school together so they’re both aware this is a big lie. “I didn’t want to go alone. Everyone else had dates already and Adrian’s nice. Plus, he did ask me before…”

Daphne nods, not wanting to press further. “Have you got a dress yet?” It had said on their packing list for the school year to bring a dress or dress robes so everyone’s already well prepared. Y/N nods and walks towards the closet before pulling out a floor-length silver gown with lace detailing. She smiles shyly as Daphne gasps in awe.

“Eat your heart out, Fred Weasley!” For the first time all night, Y/N laughs. She knows she’s going to look stunning in the dress and while she has no ill resentment towards Angelina for agreeing to go with Fred, she can’t help but feel a little bit coy knowing Fred’s going to see her in it.

She’s sitting at her desk in Transfiguration the next day when he finally acknowledges her presence. She’s twiddling her quill in her fingers, dreading the moment the troublemaker waltzes into the class. His usual seat is the one next to her, while George and Lee sit in front of them but she can only hope Alicia takes the hint and sits with her before Fred does.

She doesn’t get her wish. She’s about two seconds away from dozing off when the seat screeches against the hardwood flooring below them and she looks to her left to see Fred smirking.

“Hi love,'' he starts, the nickname not feeling out of ordinary, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” He says, and it’s true. He hadn’t seen her since class yesterday. He had looked for her before dinner to tell her about the prank he’d pulled on Filch with George while she was studying and he’d barely seen her during dinner.

Her heart starts to speed up at the nickname, and she forces down the bile she feels growing in her throat. “Yeah, I just ate dinner and went to bed yesterday. Been studying for potions. Sixth year is hard.” She’s trying to be short and sweet and maybe a little blunt but Fred doesn’t pick up on it. “Heard you asked Angelina to the ball too.” She’s hoping to whoever’s listening to her prayers that the jealousy isn’t evident in her voice and by the dopey smile that grows on Fred’s face, her prayers were answered.

“Yeah! Ron was being such a prat, telling me I couldn’t make fun of him for…” But she drowns his voice out. It might be a bitch move, but she really doesn’t need to hear the who, where, when and why he asked Angelina out. It’s clear to Y/N that Fred didn’t even notice her existence at dinner and that stings more than she’d like to admit.

She can barely concentrate during class. Fred has never really shown to care about any academic success, so he spends the entire period trying to entertain Y/N and get her to speak to him but she’s being stubborn and Fred can’t help but wonder what he did wrong. He starts to think maybe she’s just had a bad day, but when the bell rings and she storms off without even saying goodbye to him he’s dumbfounded.

“Trouble in paradise, brother?” George teases when he sees the frown adorned on Fred’s face.

“Have I done anything to upset Y/N?” He questions and he sees the way George and Lee both give each other a look. They know something he doesn’t and that leaves a feeling of uneasiness in his chest. Y/N and himself have always been closer than her and George and especially her and Lee. He was there for her when her parents were fighting constantly when she was 11 and when Marcus Flint started bullying her in 3rd year. He was even there when she cried to him last year about the guy she loved and how he was so stupidly blind to her feelings and while she didn’t give a name, Fred was dying to go punch whoever it was for not realising he had his best friend’s heart.

“If you have, it’s not up for us to tell you, mate.” Lee states and he hides behind George when he notices the scowl on Fred’s face. Lee knows better than to get between him and Y/N, but he isn’t wrong.

“Look, Alicia said she was fine when they left the library yesterday evening,” George starts, and he knows he shouldn’t be lying to his brother and best friend, but it’s not a huge lie, and maybe it’ll push his oblivious brother to realise what he did to upset his best friend, “She was at dinner last night when you asked Angie to the ball and then she went to her dorm with Daphne. Heard something about her saying yes to Adrian Pucey asking her to the ball…” While George made extra emphasis on the fact Y/N witnessed Fred asking Angelina to the ball, Fred’s eyes glaze over in rage when George mentions Adrian and he has a feeling his twin has got the wrong idea.

“I bet Adrian did something to her. Fuck him, honestly.” And before George and Lee can stop him, Fred’s stalking out of the classroom with Adrian Pucey in his sights.

Fred doesn’t find Adrian until later that afternoon, standing on the pitch and clad in his quidditch robes, yelling at someone who Fred assumes is Montague. He thinks now is probably a bad time to confront him, but he's blinded by the thought that he’s hurt Y/N.

“Pucey!” He shouts and when Adrian turns around, he chuckles and smirks at Fred. He was expected this later rather than sooner, specifically during dinner, but he guesses now will have to do.

“What?” He asks, but they both know why he’s here and he’s just enjoying riling Fred up.

“What did you do Y/N?” Adrian scoffs at this and shakes his head which confuses Fred. “What did I do to Y/N?” Fred stands his ground, chest puffed up. Adrian might be a fair bit shorter than Fred but Adrian hasn’t got anything to be scared of. Sure he’s seen Fred throw a punch or two and he’s definitely been on the receiving end of a bludger from the Weasley during a game, but he knows he isn’t the one that hurt Y/N here.

“I think you should be asking yourself that, mate. Y/N only agreed to going to the ball with me after you asked Angelina out right in front of her.” This causes Fred to look at Adrian in confusion and Adrian laughs at Fred again. He’s confused, why would asking Angelina out hurt Y/N?

It turns out he said that out loud, because two seconds later Adrian is responding to him, “Because she was expecting you to ask her, Weasley.”

Adrian doesn’t even wait for Fred’s reply before stalking off to the Slytherin change rooms and Fred’s left standing on the pitch, wondering why the ache in his chest is almost debilitating at the thought of hurting Y/N and questioning why he feels the need to throw up knowing she’s happily going with Adrian Pucey.

Fred’s next port of call is finding Y/N. After his talk with Adrian, he needs to find out why she expected him to ask her to the ball. He would’ve happily gone with her, but to Fred, she hadn’t even dropped a single hint at wanting to go with him and when she’s finally located, she’s in the library with Daphne.

“This is my exit cue,” Daphne mutters as she notices the redhead roaming around the library looking for Y/N. She doesn’t even have a moment to question Daphne before the seat in front of her is suddenly occupied by the last person she was hoping to see again.

“Why are you going with Pucey?” Is the first thing that leaves Fred’s mouth, and it wasn’t what Y/N was expecting. She splutters, only for a few seconds, before eventually replying.

“He asked me.”

Fred’s eyebrows furrow, but didn’t Pucey say she wanted to go with him? “A little birdie said you wanted to go with me. So, how come you’re going with him.”

Now Y/N scoffs and Fred can’t help but notice how many people are scoffing at him today just for asking questions and it’s getting annoying. “You didn’t ask me. He did. So, I said yes. Don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.” She’s intentionally being short, hopefully not spilling anything about her feelings for the boy in front of her.

“I didn’t know you wanted to go with me, Y/N. How was I supposed to know?” At this, Y/N goes from feeling hurt to angry and she can’t explain why her hands start to shake.

“How were you supposed to know?” She exclaims loudly which causes her to receive a rather nasty ‘sh’ from Madam Pince and a few O.W.L students surrounding her.

“Have you seen the way we act around each other Fred?” She’s now whisper yelling and the confused look on Fred’s face as she says this just aggravates her further and she’s convinced no one is this daft and he’s pushing her buttons on purpose. “Because everyone thinks we’re fucking dating already, Fred. You have to constantly be touching me, we’re always together, you call me darling and love and you kiss me on the forehead when I fucking bring you sugar quills from Hogsmeade because they’re your favourite and whenever you have spare money you always buy me Honeydukes chocolate because you said you like seeing me blush when you buy me things. You’re telling me now that we’re just friends?”

If the ache in Fred’s chest was almost debilitating on the quidditch pitch earlier, right now it feels like he’s about to go into cardiac arrest. Her cheeks are flushed, her fists are clenched, pieces of her hair are falling out of her bun that’s resting on top of her head and, worst of all, Fred’s noticed the tears of anger and frustration pooling in her eyes.

She sighs before continuing, trying to compose herself so he doesn’t see her crying over him, unaware he’s already noticed the tears threatening to fall. Her voice is sad and broken, and it feels like the ending point for her.

“I was just stupid enough to assume this year was the year we would finally admit we’re more than friends, Freddie. But I guess all this time it’s been one-sided. I hope you have a good time at the ball with Angelina.”

Fred grabs her wrist as she starts to pack up her things and looks at her, scanning her face for any form of emotion. “Let me go, Fred.” She looks at him with pleading eyes and he lets go of the grasp he has on her wrist.

Fred doesn’t try to stop her again as she hastily packs up her things and he sadly watches her leave the library without turning to look at him.

Y/N doesn’t care if it’s considered dramatic, but she lays in bed and cries for the rest of the day. While she hasn’t gone through a literal break-up, it feels like her friendship with Fred is over. At least, she’s decided, it’s over until she gets over her feelings for him.

Daphne tries everything in her power to comfort her. She rubs her back, plays with her hair and even puts on ABBA to try and get Y/N to dance just to cheer her up. Y/N feels horrible she’s basically conned Daphne into babysitting her breakdown but Daphne constantly reassures her it’s okay.

“Do you want me to go beat him up? I might be short and weak and he’s the size of a tree but I could take him.” Y/N sniffles a laugh at this, and smiles. She’s truly grateful for everything Daphne’s been doing for her and she makes a mental note to get her an extra special Christmas present next time she goes to Hogsmeade.

However, it turns out essentially ending the friendship with Fred ends her friendships with most of the Gryffindors. She was expecting this, but when George can’t even meet her eye in class her heart breaks into even smaller pieces. George has always been like a brother to her, someone she could tell anything too without worry of being judged. He was the first person she told when she realised she liked Fred and Y/N was the first person, besides Fred, that George told his feelings for Alicia for.

Y/N feels alone but she’s stubborn so she refuses to show it. She sits with Daphne in every class, essentially kicking poor Cassius Warrington who’s been pining after Daphne for 3 years into a different spot in class and she sometimes even sits with Adrian during lunch. It turns out they have a lot more in common than just the fact they’re in Slytherin and pure-bloods and Y/N’s pain in her chest is slowly but surely disappearing.

While her feelings for Fred still exist, her heart slowly feels like it’s being mended. It’s only when she spots Fred sulking during lunch one day that the ache returns. She was usually the one who he went too when feeling bad- him being too embarrassed to go to George. She hopes he’s okay, but she shakes the idea of approaching him, knowing he’s got Angelina to keep him company. The pang in her chest stays a little bit longer that day.

The Yule Ball arrives quicker than expected and Y/N and Daphne spend all day getting ready with a bunch of other Slytherin students. It’s nice, while they don’t all usually get along, the house loyalty between them is unmistakable.

Most of them are acutely aware of Y/N’s ‘Weasley Situation’ and while some of them give her pity looks, most of the younger girls have expressed their jealousy that she’s going with Adrian. This makes her laugh and shake her head and she often replies that boys aren’t all that and no boy is worth being jealous over. She feels like a wise mother almost, never wanting them to feel the way she’s felt the past few weeks.

Daphne and Y/N arrive at the Great Hall together, giggling about how bad Y/N is at walking in heels and placing bets on how quick they’re going to come off. While Daphne is counting her galleons in her purse to confirm the bet, Y/N catches a glimpse of Fred and Angelina. He looks so handsome, his dress robes a mixture of gold and black and she can’t help but think how well they’d go together. But when she looks at Angelina she feels like she’s going to pass out.

Angelina is stunning, and there’s no doubt about it. She’s in a floor-length dark purple gown that compliments her skin perfectly and Y/N thinks if Fred was going with anyone to the ball, she’s glad it’s Angelina.

Cassius and Adrian soon appear by the girls and take their arms into the Great Hall that’s been transformed to look like a winter wonderland. The roof tonight is bewitched to look like a winter, snowy day and Y/N can’t help but admire it. She’s grown up with magic her entire life, but she can’t help but constantly be amazed.

Adrian pulls a flask out of his dress robes jacket which makes Y/N snort and he smiles happily at her. Of course he snuck Firewhiskey into the Ball. The action reminds her of something Fred would do and she shakes her head, trying to get the boy out of her mind, tonight of all nights.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way.” Adrian states as he takes a swig of the flask, and she feels her cheeks heat up. She can hear the sincerity in his voice. “You don’t scrub up so badly either, Pucey.”

“A dance, m’lady?” He jokingly bows to Y/N and she smiles while she takes his hand and he leads her to the dance floor. As Adrian twirls Y/N around the dance floor, albeit messily because neither of them paid attention in dance classes held by Snape of all people, she forgets about the redhead who’s stare is burning holes into the back of her head.

“You’re a shit date, y’know.” Angelina laughs and Fred’s broken out of his trance. “Shit, Angie, I’m so sorry.”

Angelina isn’t wrong. She’s a smart girl, and she’s well aware of Fred’s longing stares towards the Slytherin girl. “Did you know? That you wanted to go with her?” Angelina questions, out of sheer curiosity. Even she was shocked when Fred asked her, but she was too dumbfounded when he asked and with everyone watching at dinner, the pressure to say yes was immense but it was not worth all the pain and heartache she’s watched her two friends go through.

“At the time? No, definitely not. She’s…” He trails off as he tries to find the right words, “She’s always been there, y’know? I just assumed she’d be in my life forever and what we had was what we’d always be… It felt normal, like I didn’t feel the way I feel about her with you, or Katie or Alicia but it felt like that’s how you’re meant to feel about your girl best friend?”

He looks over at them again, and the gross feeling of jealousy rises in his throat. “But then she said yes to Pucey, and all I can think about is how no one should be holding her but me and that he'll walk her all the way back to her dorm tonight and probably kiss her and I feel like throwing up, and...” He pauses and looks at Angelina and the pity in her eyes is obvious. “And you don’t think about your best friend like this.”

Angelina watches in pity as Fred clearly drowns his sorrows in pumpkin juice and she drags him onto the dance floor. She’s not letting Fred have a bad night and she refuses to have one as well. Fred is one of her best friends, and even though she might not be the girl he wishes he was here with, she’s determined to cheer him up somehow.

Fred finally starts to have a good time when he spots George slyly leading Alicia out of the Great Hall and he loudly wolf whistles causing a red hue to form on both their cheeks and George to flip Fred the bird as they leave. Angelina spots Y/N grab her purse across the room while Fred’s distracted and she quietly leaves just after George and Alicia.

Alone.

“Y/N just left, Fred. Alone.” Fred’s confused why Angelina is telling him this when he looks over at Daphne and Adrian, who both look at him like ‘Go you fucking idiot’ and before he can even mutter a goodbye to his friends, he’s out the door almost as fast as George was.

He finds Y/N sitting on a bench in the courtyard. She’s looking up at the stars and Fred stars to recall last summer when she visited The Burrow. She spent all night trying to point out constellations to Fred and as he watches her mutter to herself, Fred wonders how he didn’t realise that they were in love this entire time.

He clears his throat, careful not to startle Y/N and when she turns Fred can see the hesitation in her face as she quickly goes to jump up and leave.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have stolen the prime make-out spot of the night.” She awkwardly laughs but then quickly realises Fred is alone. “Nevermind… Where’s Angelina?”

Fred shrugs, and sits down on the bench she was sitting on originally. Y/N stands awkwardly before sitting down next to him. As much as she hates to admit it, she’s missed being close to him. The warmth that radiates off him despite it being the middle of winter causes her to shuffle just that slightly bit closer to him and Fred can’t help but smile.

“You look beautiful tonight. I know Adrian probably told you already, at least I hope he did, but you deserve to know.” Fred could feel himself rambling and he doesn’t miss the blush that rises across Y/N’s neck and cheeks. It’s the exact same blush that appears whenever he buys her chocolates and his heart soars.

“Thanks Freddie,” the nickname feels foreign on her tongue, “you look pretty handsome yourself. I hope Angelina told you.” She retaliates and Fred hates it. He hates the awkwardness between them. He wants nothing more to wrap his arms around her and hold her close but they feel like strangers.

“Thanks,” he laughs and Y/N looks at him confused. “Did you have a good night?”

“Can we not have this awkward small talk? I’m sure Angelina’s waiting for you somewhere.” Fred’s taken aback by her abruptness and stares at her for a few seconds. “What?” She asks when she notices Fred looking at her like she has nine heads.

“Angelina’s not waiting for me. Is Adrian waiting for you?” He asks but he doesn’t want to know the answer. He’s gone through a rollercoaster of emotions these past few weeks and he truly doesn’t want to know if another man is waiting for her to sweep her off her feet and walk back to the Slytherin common room. But when she shakes her head, Fred lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

“I need to apologise.” He blurts out and Fred wants to smack himself in the head. This was not the romantic moment he had envisioned in his head as he followed her outside into the courtyard. “I need to apologise for a lot of things. Mostly, for not realising how ridiculously in love with you I am, and also for not asking you to the ball and for ruining our friend-”

“You didn’t ruin our friendship.” She cuts him off but she doesn’t know what else to say. “You didn’t. I did, if anything.” Fred has to stop himself from starting an argument on who ruined the friendship but he wants to backtrack. Did Y/N just ignore him confessing his love to her?

“Well, I’m still sorry for not realising how ridiculously in love with you I am?” He tries again sheepishly and Y/N gives him a double-take. She heard him the first time but she was convinced it was just her ears playing tricks on her or Fred being a menace. After all, this is Fred Weasley in front of her, he’s always looking for a joke and as she’s about to accuse him of pulling a sick, twisted prank on her, she looks at him properly.

And he’s looking as serious as he did the day he told her he plans to open a joke shop with George after they graduate.

“You’re in love with me?” She asks quietly and her heart is racing again. She thinks back to the day she accidentally confessed to Fred and how she’s spent the last few weeks trying to fall out of love with him just for him to admit he’s fallen in love with her. “Fred, if this is some sick and twisted joke I will never forgive you.”

Fred almost looks hurt at this, that she thinks he’s capable of something that cruel. So instead of speaking, he softly cups her face in both his hands and runs his thumbs across her cheekbones in a loving manner. He looks her directly in the eyes and Y/N doesn’t think she’s breathed in the last 30 seconds.

She’s been craving being this close to Fred for as long as she can remember. Their lingering touches were never this intimate and right now, she feels like she can look into Fred’s eyes and see into his core, his soul. And he can do the same to her.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly, and Y/N gasps before nodding, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips against hers.

As he leans in his eyes flutter close, as do her’s. Y/N hasn’t kissed a lot of people in her life, but nothing could ever compare to the way she feels right now. The love and adoration Fred is pouring into this kiss almost brings tears to her eyes and she can only hope he can feel the love and adoration she has for him back.

Their lips move in perfect synchrony, neither of them pushing each other too far, but when Y/N drags her fingers through Fred’s hair and he lets out a groan, she can’t help but pull away and giggle.

“I’ve missed hearing you laugh.” Fred’s arms are now wrapped around her middle and he’s leaning down to press his forehead against hers. Now he has her in his arms, he’s never letting her go.

“I’ve missed having you make me laugh, Freddie.” She says sincerely and it’s Fred’s turn to blush. He knows they need to eventually leave their little bubble of happiness they finally have but he doesn’t want too. But he knows they need to talk about what happened, about them, what they are and Fred so desperately hopes this means Y/N is his.

She senses Fred’s thinking and she looks up at him, doe-eyed and innocent and Fred’s heart melts.

“Stop overthinking.” She mutters, running her hand through his long hair again and Fred almost looks like a cat purring as he feels her fingernails rake across his scalp and he leans into her touch. “Can’t help it. Don’t want to lose you again.”

Her heart pounds, this is all she’s ever wanted to hear and now she wants to hear it every single day. So she tells him exactly that.

“I’m yours, Freddie. As long as you’re mine? If you don’t know what you want it’s okay, I promise we can take it slow-” Fred cuts her off, laughing as he kisses her again and he feels how warm Y/N’s cheeks are, as she blushes over Fred silencing her with a kiss. When he pulls back, her face is flush, her hair is falling out of her bun. It reminds Fred of that day in the library, except this time, the happiness in her face is unmistakably there, and finally he’s the cause of it.

“Of course, I’m yours, darling. I’m never letting you go.”

Late the next morning, when Y/N is trying her best to sneak out of the Gryffindor sixth year boys dormitory with a dark purple hickey adorning her neck, she spots three 4th years whose names she doesn’t even know, giving Ron Weasley five galleons.

Ron sees her, and smirks. “My bet was at the ball. Thanks, Y/N, you and Freddie boy have made me a very rich man.”

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#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley x reader

591 notes · View notes

djarrex · 3 years

Note

Yes! I would love to read the Kix taking care of his girl on her period! Mine is kicking my ass this month. Sounds wonderful!

BLESS you, and the few others who hopped in on this <3 ( x )

Part 2

Let me start off by promoting menstrual cups for a hot second because I love mine and I will never go back to anything else. I bring that up because the reader uses a menstrual cup - you’ll see mentions of it a couple times throughout. There’s also a mention of it smelling sweet, lacking the smell of blood that one would normally associate with periods - this is a total personal observation BUT I have heard of other women say the same thing about the smell; it smells of you, not blood - womanly essence, if that makes sense. Idk, maybe if you also use a menstrual cup then you get what I’m trying to say? Sorry to be talking about menstrual cups so much LMAO I’m just passionate.

Warnings: oral (f receiving), no-no words, a hint of self-degradation and self-consciousness (because periods can do that to even the best of us), mentions of blood, but like, there is none

18+ under the cut for all my Kix lovin’ cycle sisters out there (and everyone else!)

Oh, Kix. Sweet, caring, sensual Kix.

***

"Let me take care of you, darling. "

“But... it’s gross. I don’t even like going near that area during this time a month and I definitely don’t want you to.”

“Gross?” He almost sounds... offended - flabbergasted. “It’s a part of life, beautiful. It’s what makes you amazing, a warrior in your own way. Nothing about you could gross me out. You know of some of the things I’ve seen, darling, and you could never come close to any of it.”

“Are- are you sure, Kix?”

“You have that little cup thing in, right?” He asks as he lowers himself to his knees to be eye level with your waist, hooking his thumbs inside the band of your comfy pants - waiting. You nod, catching your bottom lip between your teeth as you peer down at him with hesitant eyes. His own eyes are glowing, radiating with adoration as a smile stretches along his perfect lips.

“Nothing about you could gross me out.”

Fuck, you adore him.

Even if he’s wrong.

With a victorious hum, he yanks your stretchy bottoms down in one swift motion. Kix stands upright, tugging on the hem of your top before lifting it over your head, your arms raising to the ceiling to facilitate the process. You’re nearly bare - all that’s left is your stained, worn bra and loose cotton underwear. Nothing about you today looks or feels sexy, yet Kix stares at you like you’re holding the stars themselves within your swollen hands.

“Lay down, darling. Won’t you let me take care of you?” You can’t help but smile at the man before you, his soft but deep voice making your heart pound and pussy throb simultaneously. You lay back, respectfully doing as your told. As soon as your back hits the sheets he’s on you, his warm body looming over your bloated form as his lips find a temporary home against your clavicle. You’re already so sensitive, so aroused just from the faintest of touches. You groan as Kix licks and kisses his way across the expanse of whatever skin is available to him on your chest - he stops when all that’s left to be mouthed is still hiding underneath your bra.

“They’re a little sore,” you confess with a furrowed brow. Kix’s eyes meet yours, and you somehow know exactly what he wants to do to help.

“I’ll massage them for you,” his voice is full of sincerity and care as his eyes meet yours. You nod, lifting your top half up off the sheets for a moment so he can reach around and unclasp your bra. Your breasts swing free, and Kix’s hands are instantly but gingerly grasping at them, softly kneading the orbs of combined fat and tissue with expert hands. Kix’s objective is to make you feel good, both in forgetting your body’s reactions to your monthly, and in pleasure. While he continues to knead at your sensitive breasts, his mouth is back on you, nipping at the plushier parts of your flesh around your bust and torso. Your pussy is throbbing, a fire igniting deep within your gut - even pushing aside the cramping - screaming for more.

“K...ix,” you manage his name mid-moan, his eyes flickering back up to yours through his dark lashes - mouth still attached to the flushed skin below your breast. “More... please,” you whine, your back arching off the bed and pushing yourself into his mouth - hungry. With a final nip to the skin lining your ribs, Kix’s head lifts up and offers you a half smile.

“You’ll let me take care of you, darling? Even though you so wrongfully think that I’ll be grossed out?” There’s a hint of teasing in his gravelly voice, but you couldn’t care less at the moment.

“Yes,” you breathe out, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to feed the growing ache between your legs.

“You trust me, don’t you?” Kix lowers himself towards the foot of the bed, resting his cheek on the meat of your thigh while staring up at you with pleading eyes. Of course you do, and he knows that. You whimper at him, nodding your head as his finger teases along the thin skin around your underwear - featherlight. “I promise, it’ll feel good,” he murmurs with his lips pressed to your skin, trailing kisses from your knee up to your hip bone. “I’ll make you forget that you’re on your period, darling.”

Kix softly tugs your underwear down, tossing the garment over his shoulder to be found later. You feel so bleh - bloated, sensitive, sore - yet you’re on fire. Kix takes a moment to rove his eyes over your body, making you shudder under his gaze.

“You’re so beautiful, darling. Even when you think you aren’t.”

You love him you love him you love him.

Only seconds later Kix’s face in between your legs, kissing your mound before moving to press his lips against your folds. You feel totally embarrassed, hoping you don’t stink or taste like blood, but Kix is adamant about doing this for you, or for himself, it doesn’t matter. What if you ruin what you and Kix have if he comes up disgusted by your vagina with the way is is right now? What if-

Nope, you can’t finish that thought because he’s in the middle of licking a slow, long stripe from the bottom of your slit all the way up to the hood of your clit with a flattened tongue. Kix repeats the motion a few more times, groaning into you with every pass of his tongue, sending euphoric vibrations straight into your core. He runs his tongue around the entrance of your burning hole, easing the muscle just a little bit beyond the entrance - making you see stars. Kix can’t actually stick anything inside of you, not his tongue nor his fingers, and most definitely not his cock unless you removed the silicone cup from your canal - and there was no fucking way in hell you’d do that, especially not on day two. Besides, he’s doing quite the fine job at making you come apart with the way he’s sucking, licking, and nipping at everything that is good.

“Fuck, Kix...” He’s got your clit trapped between his lips, his tongue flicking at it from inside his warm mouth. You’re close, you can feel that fire move throughout your body, inching further and further into your climax with every quick motion of his tongue.

Then his hands return to your breasts, squeezing gently while meeting your eyes from where he’s buried between your legs. The thread within you snaps when you lock eyes with his lust-filled golden ones; his hands grabbing at your breasts, his mouth latched onto that sensitive bundle of nerves, and the heavy groan he emits while your clit is still sucked into his mouth all contribute to the intense orgasm that steadily rocks through your body. You convulse with a silent cry, your thighs threatening to close around his head as he drags his tongue up and down your slit, catching your release with hums of approval.

“KixKixKixKix-” you cry out his name in rapid-fire, shooting your hand down to tug at his growing hair - trying to push him away from you. “Too... much,” you whine, bucking your hips in an attempt to knock him off of you. With a lewd pop, he finally removes his mouth from your oversensitive cunt, but not before breathing in deeply through his nose while still buried between your legs.

“Kix!” you squeal at him, embarrassment flooding your body as he moves up to kiss at your throat. “What-”

“You smell so damn good, darling. Like the sweetest, most rare fruit in the galaxy. You taste like it, too.” Your cheeks are hot, eyes wide as he chuckles against your skin.

“So, it doesn’t...?”

You don’t need to elaborate on your question before Kix answers it with honesty.

“No, darling. No taste or smell of blood. Quite the opposite, actually. You are absolutely delectable. Maybe when you get more comfortable, I’d love to fuck you like this, if you’re ever up for it.”

“But the... the blood...”

“I’ve heard it makes quite the pleasurable experience for both parties involved. But like I said, only when you’re comfortable. Until then, I’d be more than happy to devour you every chance you give me, darling.”

***

| m a s t e r l i s t |

tagging the peeps on the Clone Bois taglist: @bvcketfvcker @deewithani @chromia7567 @threevie @letitrainathousandflames @latenightsthoughtsnstuff @thefact0rygirl @justanothersadperson93 @ohtobeamoth @14mcmd1122 @tacticalsparkles @cheesemachine44 PLUS @redandwhiteroses

#LORD HELP ME #thanks for this request y'all #it gave me an excuse to write this #it's been on my mind for a while and the need to post it has been amplified #because period :')#kix x reader #clone medic kix x reader #clone medic kix smut #kix smut #djarrex writes #request

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seyenna · 4 years

Text

Philza and/or Techno and/or Ranboo fic recs

just some of my fav dsmp fics, mainly phil, techno or ranboo bc i’m biased but also a bunch of sbi and others

this one goes out mainly to zablr discord my beloved

pls tell me if the links don’t work

all of these are on ao3

rating\status(complete/ongoing)\warnings\word count\misc tags

ichor flows free amongst the iron by summer_rising

T\o\violence\13k\series\gods AU

Summary:

A gods and goddesses AU of the Dream SMP, dramatized for all our benefits.

First work:

"Two gods meeting on a mountaintop overlooking the stormy sea? Very classy, Dream, I appreciate your taste."

Dream didn't turn to look at him, but the faint shake of his shoulders let Techno know he had heard.

"Scar's healing up nicely, I see," Techno mumbled with a light nod of his head.

"Mhm. Cut nice and clean. Not that I expected any less from you, of course."

The god of power and the god of luck meet on a mountaintop to discuss Luck's standing in the ongoing political disaster.

We're Only Young by ImperialKatwala

G\o\-\66k\series\Dream & Technoblade

It's easy to forget amid the chaos and bloodshed how similar - and how young - Dream and Technoblade really are.

And when the sun comes up, you'll find a brand new god. by SkyboxZoo

M\o\violence\19k\gods AU

Summary:

The wounds from the fight had healed nigh instantly, but the golden blood still soaked Techno’s shirt. His cloak had gotten torn off and his hair had fallen out of its pony-tail. Ichor pooled in his boots. The man left a trail of golden, bloody footprints in his wake.

old gods (new gods) by WriterWinged

T\o\-\9k\series\gods AU

Summary of first work:

Survival, Blood, Madness. Philza, Technoblade, Wilbur Soot. Three gods who have never cared for mortal life, who play with them when they want to, who kill their toys just as easily. How, then, did a mortal end up in their hands?

This House Is A Fucking Nightmare by SilverWing15

T\c\-\17k\series\sbi

Summary:

AU Where Phil isn't quite as willing to stand by while his sons drop like flies

Summary of third part (my fav):

Does lingering too long in the shadow of a god make you a god? The voices in his head seem to think so.

His brothers know he's older than them but they don't know how much

OR: Technoblade doesn't think his brothers realize how different they are from ordinary men. After all, ordinary men may fight the gods, but they don't win.

It's been a long day. by BecausePlot

G\c\-\3k\Philza & Ranboo

Summary:

Sides are bad: he knows that much. He’s seen it tear people apart time and time again, so when he decided to separate himself from Tubbo and keep his distance, he knew he was in the right.

Well. He thought he was in the right, at the time. Sitting all by himself on the steps to the Prime Path, he’s not so sure anymore.

Yes, the sides might have torn the others apart, might have made them so weak that they have no choice but to fold under Dream’s hand, but at least they aren’t lonely.

So are sides bad?

‘I don’t know.’

~*~

Or, Ranboo looks out at the ruins of L'Manburg, feeling more lost and lonely than he ever has.

But, as he soon finds, he's not as alone as he thinks.

the voices in my head, they say a lot of things by rosyasteria

-\c\violence\1k\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

Some days the voices didn’t listen. They didn’t let up. They screamed instead of whispered, relentless, assaulting his ears until they bled.

tell them i was the warmest place you knew and you turned me cold by rosyasteria

-\c\-\2k\Techonblade-centric

Summary:

Technoblade cared. But in the end it just fucked him over.

For the majority of his life, Techno felt like less of a companion, less of a family member, and more like a weapon to be wielded. 'The Blade' they called him; never 'friend'.

It Leaves Little Time for Anything Else by mirandible

M\c\-\1k\part of series\Dream & Technoblade

Summary:

A young man aims for the top, but fate has other plans for him. So does Technoblade, apparently.

(Or: answering the question of “Why does Techno hide his scars if they’re supposed to be some sort of trophy? Why keep your point of pride a secret?”)

the best requiem is a bar of silence (and I'll sing it, even if I must hold back my tears) by jello12451

T\o\-\10k\Philza & Technoblade

Summary:

He can’t help the noise of celebration that escapes him. Techno- this means that Techno’s free, and he got his horse back, and everything is alright-

Tubbo, filled with rage at Phil’s cheers, turns and impulsively shoots an arrow.

He doesn’t expect to hit his target.

---

Alternatively: What if Phil didn't have a bucket of water when Tubbo shot him?

Change fate by being aggressively kind by sircantus

T\o\-\13k\sbi, Philza-centric

Summary:

“You do understand that you’re caring for the thing meant to bring destruction and chaos to our world, right?” The woman asks, Phil looking behind him fondly as Techno grabs at the ends of his wings.

“He’s just a child.” Phil answers distractedly, humming as his wings get gently yanked at.

“He’s the first of three to destroy life as we know it! Shouldn’t we, well, get rid of him?!”

“Oh, no.” Phil raises his eyes with a sharp glare. “Believe me, I have my own way of preventing the apocalypse.”

---

Or, Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy are basically chaotic forces of nature, destined from birth to end the world and bring destruction. Most who hear of the tale of them are trying their best to track them down, and to end the monsters while they’re still young, still just children.

Phil has a different plan.

(In which Phil raises the minecraft equivalents of the anti-christ with love and support, so much so to the point where the world ending is really just a funny thought, and Phil has three kids who casually have powers that are bit more extreme than anything else in the world)

I promised you that everything would be fine by findingkairos

G\c\-\6k\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

manifestation: (n.)

1. an event, action, or object that clearly shows or embodies something abstract or theoretical;

2. a version or incarnation of something or someone;

3. an appearance of a ghost or spirit;

4. the Blood God.

When he's young and still alone, still establishing his reputation as the immortal warrior, Technoblade makes up an imaginary friend.

Years later, the blood god is very real and very much a god: one that is prepared to do anything for their first and only friend.

the inner mechanism of a black box by Bee_4

T\c\violence, self-harm\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

Technoblade lets himself get imprisoned for Philza’s sake. He doesn’t plan on being there long. Unfortunately, he’s underestimated Pandora’s Vault.

There are things that will make even the Blade fall apart in due time, as it turns out.

carry all my sins by BananasofThorns

T\c\-\4k\Ranboo-centric

Summary:

Ranboo swallows. “All my armor and weapons and stuff are missing. Fundy and I were gonna go looking for them after the festival, I think.”

“I see.” Tubbo smiles again, but this time it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, it’s just a festival. We could probably find someone to lend you a sword or an axe or something.”

He starts towards the stage, waving at people when they call his name, and Ranboo follows. The original panic has dulled to a cold buzz in his chest, but apprehension still wraps itself around his body like chains. He doesn’t like being without his armor and tools; he feels too exposed, and if something happens, he’ll be helpless.

“Ranboo?” Tubbo calls, glancing back.

Ranboo shakes his head and hurries to catch up. “Yeah, it’ll be fine,” he repeats. “Everything’s gonna be fine."

Tubbo grins. “That’s the spirit.”

Rule 5: be loyal. L'manberg doesn't do well with supposed traitors. Ranboo deals with the consequences.

Sojourn by Lacy_Star

T\o\-\13k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

“Well…” Ranboo started slowly, “You see, uh… I kinda… don’t have a house anymore, obviously. Um… Phil found me in—“ He paused, cutting himself off and squinting at the floorboards— very discreet, “Phil… found me. And… um… He said I could stay by you guys. Like, um, by the dog house he wants to build?” He paused, then began to ramble, “But, uh, if you don’t want me here, I understand— and I’m sorry for coming in your house when you weren’t here, I swear I didn’t touch anything— it was just cold outside and—“

Techno just stared at him. And how, how was this the second time this had happened to him? How was this the second time he returned home after battle to discover an injured teenage boy waiting for him, seeking assistance with nowhere to go? And how badly had that ended last time, in nothing but betrayal and insults?

---

AKA: Phil drags a half-enderman home after Doomsday, and Techno decides that they can keep it. For now.

can an axe count as rent? by aboutfivebees

T\c\-\4k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

Ranboo’s struggling to settle into his new life on the Arctic Anarchist Commune, but at least he’s got bread.

or the struggles of an enderman hybrid to come up with a housewarming gift to give to his friends, who are just trying to adopt him

The Caged Bird Sings of Freedom by StarPrince_Punk

T\o\-\25k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

The Blade's stance was still tense, his body prepared to fight at a moment’s notice if need be. “What’s your name?” Phil asked “My… name?” The Blade asked. “Yeah. Your name isn’t actually The Blade, right? That’s like a stage name?” Phil tried to keep his tone light. “What’s your real name?” The Blade hesitated. “No one… No one’s called me by my name in a long time.” ------- When Phil comes across Ranboo in his panic room after L'Manberg's destruction, it reminds him of when he first met Technoblade. And just like when he met Techno, Phil's first instinct is that he has to help this kid. While living together, Techno and Ranboo learn that they're much more similar than they had previously thought, and Phil learns that it's not too late for him to be a better dad.

This already feels like more of a home by H3118ENDER

T\o\violence, death\18k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

As the ashes of L'Manberg settle the conflict continues to come to life setting the stage for a new wave of blood shed. Stuck slam in the middle of past and present friends Ranboo is coming to learn that even without nations to their names feelings and feuds don't die but people, people do.

A Shadow of a Shadow by unappetizingegg

T\c\-\4k\ Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

There were a few beats of silence, and then- “What are your plans, now? Do you need a place to stay?”

That caught him off guard. Surely he’d heard incorrectly. Phil was offering him a home, right after he’d orchestrated the destruction of his past one? It didn’t make any sense, none of it did. Why would Phil say that?

Then he remembered, he remembered Techno stopping him in the fight. He remembered being handed his book, the question in Techno’s gaze. He swore, in that moment, Technoblade, the Technoblade, had been worried about him. He remembered that he had been told to leave, to run, to get away and preserve himself. He had spared him, he remembered that Techno had spared him.

Techno had helped him. Phil had tried to protect him, to get him away from the danger.

They were there for him.

---

alternatively:

Ranboo is alone. But he really isn't.

Meritocracy by oddsbodkins

G\o\-\18k\Dream & Technoblade, sbi, medieval AU

Summary:

Dream is more successful than he'd ever imagined - but there's one thing that's been bothering him. Technoblade, his biggest rival, the Acolyte of the Blood God and King of the Arena, went missing last spring, just before Dream got the chance to duel him. Without that one achievement to pave his way, all the following victories have felt cheap.

So, Dream hired some goons to dig Technoblade up and pester him into coming back to the Capitol, for one last showdown. Easy enough, right?

Interlude I: "Promises to Keep" by Ozzyyy

T\c\-\1k\part of a series\Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

These woods are lovely, dark, and deep But I have promises to keep

And miles to go before I sleep And miles to go before I sleep.

Techno has a plan. It's crazy. It's insane, it's actually just batshit bonkers. But if chaos cannot be enjoyed together, then what's it worth, yeah? There's a certain beauty in watching the world burn from the center of the flames. Phil intends to be there.

I Don't Want To Start A Fight (wouldn't you rather start a riot?) by KryOnBlock

T\c\violence, death\15k\Technoblade & Philza & Ranboo

Summary:

An universal ping rang out from behind him, the third and final he knew, and Phil sobbed, clutching the body tighter.

Techno didn’t move.

It always has been Technoblade and Philza, Philza and Technoblade. Take on half, and you shall never go back.

Sheltered by Lulatic

G\c\-\6k\Ranboo & Technoblade

Summary:

It was cold outside. But Techno never heard Ranboo complain.

That was the best excuse he could muster to keep him out.

Antarctic Princes 'verse by BirchWrites

T\o\-\15k\series\sbi

Summary:

Loosely-connected one shots set in an AU where the Antarctic Empire and the Dream SMP are in the same world. Ordered chronologically, but each fic can be read as a standalone thing

Summary of first part:

Oh shit. Forget arrested; Dream’s going to have to tell Wilbur that he watched Tommy get stabbed for being terminally stupid.

May we cross paths again by QueenLunaFreed

G\c\-\1k\Dream & Technoblade

Summary:

“Even if tomorrow it’s just us versus the entire server, Dream, I’m telling you right now - I have confidence.”

---

Dream couldn’t comprehend the pacing contradiction in front of him, the weakness he could clearly see, but would never comment on. Because this man has been defying Dream's expectations since they first met, because despite them not being friends and having no reason to trust each other, Dream knew that Technoblade is the only person who he’d trust to do this right. To destroy L'Manberg alongside him yet again, this time for real.

leave me your starlight by findingkairos

T\o\-\18k\Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

For you the world, Phil.

Once upon a time, Philza Minecraft is the only person who does not shy away from the bloody teen that regularly turns the tide of war.

This cements a friendship that will last wars, empires, worlds, and lifetimes.

---

(Featuring: Back to Back Badasses, healthy relationships, accidental deification, intentional world domination, and Phil's past coming back to haunt his best friend.)

#fanfic #dsmp #technoblade #philza #ranboo #zablr #fic recs

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ohmygoodnessgraciouss · 4 years

Text

Reality Check - Chapter 3

Thanks for the love! It’s insane to me how quickly this blew up! And I’ve loved hearing theories by you guys! The show must go on, so let’s not wait any longer ;)

Summary: Y/N and Wanda were very close after returning in 2023. The two bonded over the loss of their partners. It wasn’t enough to keep Wanda grounded after she found Vision’s body though, and Wanda wants the best for her friend. Unfortunately for Y/N, this means she’s going to be thrown into a reality she wasn’t expecting.

Missed the first part? Read it here! Need chapter 2? Go down to the tags and click #Reality Check Masterlist !

Scott led you to a nearby park. You never managed to get those guitar strings for Loki, so you hoped he had more at home that he didn’t know about. You sat down on a bench with Scott, who looked around carefully, as if to ensure there were no wandering eyes. Not a person was in sight, but you assumed that was because it was the middle of the weekend. Everyone was at home, spending quality time with one another.

“I don’t understand still. What is it that you wanted to ask me?” You asked him, once he finally turned back to look at you.

“Do you remember how you first got here?”

“Well, yes, you pulled us outside of the store,” You laughed.

“No-” He shifted in his seat, “-Do you remember when you first came to this town?”

“Of course, I moved here with my husband when...” You drifted off. “When we...”

He looked at you expectantly. “Do you remember?”

You shook your head, almost upset with yourself for not remembering.

“No, I don’t.”

---

“Wanda, what do you think you can do about it?” You asked your friend who was pacing around your shared apartment. She had her hair pulled back in a low ponytail and she was dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt. It was clear she hadn’t been taking care of herself. Some of the injuries she sustained during the final battle were still visible. They complimented the dark circles under her eyes, showing you exactly how she felt on the inside.

“Y/N, we have to go take him back.” She said, finally stopping in her tracks.

“You don’t even know what S.W.O.R.D is doing though! Maybe they’re trying to extract important data from him.”

“Or they’re trying to weaponize him. Exactly what he didn’t want.” Her voice was stern, and she was trying to control her anger. You knew she was right, but you wanted to believe it wasn’t true.

“And you believe you could bust right in there, take his body, and get away with it? Wanda, I know you’re hurting but this is absurd!”

“You say it as if you wouldn’t do the same for Loki.”

“Because I wouldn’t!” You hissed. You stood up and walked over to the girl, whose eyes were starting to glow a dim red. “Vis wouldn’t have wanted you to keep going after him like this. He would want you to move on.”

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me. Y/N, I know you understand this feeling. You said it yourself, you nearly went after Loki in that timeline after he took the tesseract.”

“But I didn’t. The opportunity presented itself but I knew deep down that I couldn’t do it. This is our reality. Our universe. Our timeline. My Loki is gone. I can’t do anything about it.”

“But what if we could?” She asked, zoning out rather quickly. Wanda was no longer looking at you, but rather looking out into the open as if there was an opportunity that presented itself.

“What are you talking about?” You asked nervously.

“There’s nothing grounding us right now, Y/N. Everyone is out there, partying, celebrating, having fun with their loved ones. We don’t get to have that. Not in the same sense at least. But with my powers-”

“Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say.”

“We deserve happiness. Even if it’s only temporary.”

“You’ll trap yourself in there. It’ll be your dream world and you’ll never want to leave. I know you, Wanda. You can’t do this.”

“Can’t I?” She stormed out of the room before you could say anything more. You wanted to run after her, but maybe some space was what she needed.

You regretted that decision three days later.

“Neither do I,” He said, breaking you out of your trance. He sighed dejectedly. “You’re the first person I’ve had a chance to ask about this. Anyone else runs away to do something else before I have the opportunity.”

“What are you trying to say? This is a perfectly normal neighborhood.”

“I’m trying to say it’s the exact opposite of that, Y/N. There is nothing normal about this town. Nothing. How did you get here? Why did you come here? Doesn’t it feel like everything is dull? Colorless?”

“Why would it be anything other than normal, Scott? Are you trying to say magic is real or someone has this whole town hypnotized or something? It’s madness!” You exclaimed. “And if you believe that so much then why don’t you just leave?”

“That’s the thing, I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I mean there’s no way out of this town. If you want me to leave, you first. I’ll follow your lead. But you’ll understand what I mean as soon as you get to the border. It seems like it just goes on and on and you never reach the sign that says you’re leaving Westview. There’s no way out.”

You stood up from the bench quickly, like a lightbulb finally lit up in your head. You shook your head and turned to leave. “I don’t know what you want me to do here. I’m happy with my life. You just sound insane. No wonder everyone tries to avoid you. I have to get to the talent show. My husband needs me.”

“Then go to him, but mark my words Y/N. Something is wrong.”

---

“Loki, I’m so sorry! I got caught up with someone at the store!” You gave him an apologetic smile. He was standing behind the stage, tuning the guitar once more before he went on. He smiled back at you when he saw you walking up.

“It’s quite alright, love. I’m just happy you’ll get to see me perform. I think you’ll love the song I have picked out. It’s one you haven’t heard from me yet.”

“You mean I haven’t heard this one a dozen times this morning already?”

“Not at all,” He grinned.

“Well, I’m looking forward to it. Break a leg, hon.” You kissed his cheek as a woman motioned for him to go up on stage. She had her hair up and she carried a clipboard with her. You realized you didn’t know her, so you walked over to her as you watched Loki.

He introduced himself and began playing a song. “Hey Good Lookin’” to be specific. You laughed lightly as he glanced over to the end of the stage, giving you a small wink.

“He takes my comments too literally sometimes,” You shook your head. The woman smiled politely.

“He’s a very good singer. You’re lucky to have him.”

“Oh, I am. Sometimes I wonder what I would do without him. He’s been my best friend for God knows how long.” You watched him turn to look at the crowd, a bright smile on his face as he sang the lyrics. The crowd watched with light smiles as the man played.

“That’s the best relationship you can have.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I just realized I never introduced myself. I’m Y/N,” You introduced yourself.

“I’m Geraldine. I’m one of Wanda’s friends,” She replied.

Wanda seemed to pop up at the mention of her name because the next thing you knew you saw her next to you. “How wonderful! Hey Wanda, how are you adjusting to the town?”

“Well, it’s been quite a big adjustment but everyone here is so welcoming that it’s easy!” She said, straightening out one of her gloves. “Now it would be a little nice if my husband decided to show up soon. We go on right after Loki.” She started fidgeting with her fingers.

“Oh you two have met?” You asked her. She seemed to freeze for a moment, before relaxing again and responding.

“Yes, right before you showed up. He’s so sweet!” She gushed.

“Well, he is quite charming. As I’m sure you can see by what he’s singing right now. I mentioned Hank Williams once this morning and this is what I get for it,” You giggled.

“Aw, that’s so romantic of him.”

“It truly is. But enough about me and Loki, Geraldine, when did you arrive in town?” You asked, turning towards her.

“Oh, I’ve been here for a while, I just haven’t had the time to participate in any of these fun events until a few days ago. Perhaps we should have an evening out with just us girls one day, get to know each other,” She responded,

“That would be great! We could go out, find something fun to do, get a break from our husbands,” You said, laughing. Wanda laughed a little as well.

“I’ll have to see when I’m free,” Wanda mentioned. “We’re still trying to settle into our home so life has been a little chaotic. I feel like I need some magical stone or something to reverse time and give me a chance to relax.” All three of you chuckled at her statement.

“Now that would be a wonderful tool. If only it existed,” You groaned dramatically.

“Well, either way, if you ever need any help settling in, let me know Wanda.” Geraldine mentioned. You nodded your head in agreement.

“Yeah, don’t ever hesitate in reaching out. We’re here to assist in whatever you need.”

“You girls are so amazing!” She exclaimed, hugging the two of you. You smiled and hugged her back.

As she broke the hug, Loki walked off the stage and back to you. “You were amazing, honey,” You complimented him.

“Oh please, you weren’t even listening all that much. But thank you anyway,” He kissed the top of your head. Wanda and Geraldine watched with small smiles.

“Wanda, Vision needs to get here in another five minutes otherwise I can’t do much more. They’ll tolerate another break but that’s all I can do,” Geraldine mentioned, walking up to the stage.

“Thank you Geraldine,” She sighed, clearly frustrated.

“He’ll show up. He must know how much this means to you Wanda, so I have no doubt he’ll be here in time,” You said. She nodded her head.

“He’s never late. He’s always on time, always punctual.”

To ease her panic and worry, Loki decided to change the subject. “I don’t believe we’ve met yet. I am Loki,” He introduced himself. You furrowed your brows in confusion.

“I thought you two already met,” You asked.

“Well I know she’s been in the neighborhood for a few days now, love, but I haven’t had the opportunity yet to properly introduce myself.” He responded.

“I’m Wanda,” She smiled nervously. She was trying to figure out a way out of this situation. Fortunately, Vision was running over just in the nick of time. He seemed out of breath, with his full magician’s suit on. “Where have you been?!” She began to yell at him.

You walked away a little, giving them space. Loki followed closely behind you. He seemed confused, but only by your expression. It didn’t seem like he was concerned by Wanda. “What was that about?” You asked him.

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head slightly, much like a dog.

“Wanda said that you guys met already, while you were on stage. And then you act like you didn’t know her at all.”

Before he could respond, you noticed a glint in his eyes. It was like a red mist reflecting in them. The color faded quickly, back to the grey you were used to. He seemed phased out, like something else caught his attention. “We briefly talked right before you arrived, so maybe that’s what she meant.”

You nodded absentmindedly. You didn’t believe him at all. Too many things were becoming too suspicious at this point. Loki saw how you reacted, hurt flashing in his eyes. A part of you would’ve felt guilty if you didn’t feel like you were being left in the dark constantly.

“Loki I wish I could believe you, but so many weird things have been going on lately.” You muttered under your breath.

“Y/N, what’s wrong, love?” He asked, placing his hands on your waist. He was concerned, but he didn’t know what to do.

“It seems like everything is off. I’m seeing weird things around this place, weird people. It all started when Wanda came to town, and now there’s some weird guy that I met at the store and-”

“Wait, what weird guy?”

“The one that I bumped into a few days ago. He talked to me today and he sounded absolutely insane.”

“What did he talk to you about?”

“He started asking me questions I didn’t know the answers to. He started spouting out some weird stuff about the town. I ended up walking away because he wouldn’t stop pressing about it,”

“I don’t trust that man,” He said, almost afraid.

“Me neither. But with the other weird and strange things happening now, I wonder if there’s any substance to what he’s talking about.”

“Y/N, don’t start with this. Don’t get yourself caught up with someone like him. You’ll drive yourself mad with this.” He pulled you closer to him by your waist as you avoided his eyes.

He lifted your chin with one hand, forcing you to look at him. “There’s something wrong here, Loki. Do you remember how we got here?”

“How we got here?” He echoed.

“When did we move here? When did we get married? When did we decide to get married?” You asked him.

“That doesn’t matter, love. The important thing is that we’re here now, together.” He pressed.

“You’re avoiding answering the questions.”

“We deserve happiness, don’t you think?” You froze when he asked that. Something about that phrase, those words, were eerie.

You pulled away from him quickly. “Don’t say that. Loki, I deserve to know how we got to this point in our lives. I can’t remember what we did to get here. If you won’t tell me, then I need some time alone. I’ll be home later tonight, but please don’t follow me.”

You started walking away, refusing to look at Loki. You know you’d run right back if you saw the heartbreak in his eyes.

W̵̲͓̱̹̻̜͖̟̺̲͕̍̉͑̀̈͜͝ͅh̴̨̻̠̫̫̲̟͖͊̃̐̓̈̅̄͜a̶̢̛̜̝̯̩̻̾́̐̓͛́͜ț̵̡̜̗͓̱̠̝̖͚͕̹̗͚͖͗'̶̧͙͉̜͈̓��̹̠͍ş̴̢̡̥̰̤̱̩͓̹̦̠̥̞̎̾͊͘͜͠ ̴̡̙̬͓̻͉̭̗͎̙͕͌̈́g̶̛͉̜̯̥̍͒ö̴̢͙͇͍̮̮̝̗͈̲̬̪̯́͋ͅͅĩ̶̧͕̜͖͖͎̌́̂̐͗̏́͛̃̄͘͠͝n̴̨̢͙̼̩͕̼̮̬̪͙̊̽͊̓̇̈̀̈́͒̈́̓͘͜͝ǧ̸̱̮͕̮̻̻͇̖̪̯̳̂̈́̉̾͐͜͠ ̸̭̼̃͂̇͗̓̆͐̓͗̀͋̑̉͊͛ơ̶̡̡̧̩̤̙̤̯͇̝̞̫̤͓̆͑̓̉̌͂̃̓̍̋̄͘ͅņ̶̯͓̭̺̹̪̅̓̍́͗̅͗͘͝ ̶̢̡̼̗̙̤̫̳͇͓̻͉̼̯͈͐̔̄̄͊̈́̐̿̔̄̈́̕ṋ̴̭̫͖̜̫̦̀͆̒͘ͅo̸̗͊̋̏̇̊̾̿́̆̇̈́̑͝͝w̶̛̛̼̓̍̀͐̄̀̈́̈́̿̽̚͘͝?̷̳̜̜̺̼͙̜̰͊͊͗̆͒̋͜

“Darcy?”

“What’s Wanda doing now?”

“She’s performing a magic show. It’s just like any other sitcom. She’s trying to hide her powers because Vision has decided to go haywire.” She said, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Wait, what’s that?” Jimmy asked, pointing to the background.

“It looks like Y/N and Loki.”

“It looks like they’re fighting,” She responded, pointing out their frowning expressions, their stiff body language.

“Would Wanda script that?”

“I doubt it. She’s apparently living the perfect little sitcom life after all. She’d never want people fighting like that.”

Suddenly, the television screen flashed for a moment. The camera panned to the talent show, pointing directly at Wand and Vision. You could no longer see the other couple.

“She must’ve noticed.”

“And she doesn’t want anyone else seeing.”

Taglist: @emberfulclass @momoneymolife @high-priestesss @hailey-the-heathen @mochminnie @dpaccione @intricate-melody @lindseyrae20 @storminateacup15

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #thor #fanfic #fanfiction #romance #fluff #wandavision #wanda maximoff #Scarlet Witch #vision #Reality Check Masterlist #avengers #marvel #wandavision spoilers

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hpalways · 3 years

Text

Coin Flip || Childe

THERE were two sides to a coin. It could land on either heads or tails. One side could be shining, for it was lucky to never touch the ground, void of being coated with all things slimy, while the other rusted, coveted to take the other’s spot. This was how you would describe Childe.

Most people didn’t get to see what you saw out of him. Usually, he was labeled as the troublesome Fatui man who hid his bloodlust behind a charming smile. To that, you would not concur. It was true. He was a strange man, sometimes acting as if he was possessed by some war-like creature who decided to give no shits about consequences and whatnot. However, this was what made your days a little more interesting, for better or worse. He became someone you grew to care, and for that, that was enough to prevent yourself from leaving him anytime soon.

Speaking of the devil, he was calling out to you. “My my… [Y/N], what’s with that silly face you’re making?” He proceeded to hold a slender hand up, pinching your cheek as if you were a baby. It frustrated you how the simple touch from him could invite a swarm of butterflies to your stomach.

Pretending to not look as flustered as you felt, you swatted his hand away. “I was just thinking. What, is your tiny brain unable to do the same?”

He let out a dramatic gasp and placed his hand over his chest. “Oh, you wound me, dear Comrade.” His blue eyes hovered over your face and for some reason, he wouldn’t look away. Embarrassing. Instead, you broke eye contact before he did, averting your hues towards the sea that accompanied the Harbor of Liyue. But even then… the color rolling off from the waves reminded you of Childe’s eyes. Dammit.

A warm breeze brushed through the two of you and his fiery, orange locks swayed along. It was annoying how you kept on turning back to him. Scowling to yourself, you focused on the stalls propped up with merchants in them, who were advertising. Some had red-orange fish laying there waiting to be sold.

“So are you sure you’d like to tag along with me? The brother that’s visiting me today can be quite the handful.”

You nodded, not at all hesitating. “Of course! I think it’ll be fun. You’ve been working hard lately. A break is needed.”

He scratched his head and let out a chuckle. “Alright, alright. Stop fretting so much about me. I eat three meals and make sure to sleep every night.”

You waggled a finger towards him. “You better be.”

Entering upon the actual dock, you followed the tall male as he peered around to look for the ship that would supposedly contain his little brother. Boots clopping against the wooden floor, you dodged the crowds and was struggling to keep up with his long strides. He seemed to be anxious almost -- was he that excited to see his brother?

The groups of people grew more and more dense by the second; the arrival of ships was the cause of it. Because of this, bodies pushed against you, nearly knocking you off your feet. Teeth grinding into one another, you tried to make it pass through them, but the obstacles further increased the gap between you and Childe. You were going to lose sight of him…

A hand broke through the tight space that encircled you, its palm open and welcoming. Wasting no time to grab on it, you felt it wrapped firmly around yours. It pulled you with great strength, breaking the walls that nearly trapped you.

“Thank you, Childe,” you pant, hoping to calm your racing heart. His hand wouldn’t release yours, despite being out in the open. You nudge your head towards it in question, but his grip only tightened. He wasn’t going to let you go.

“Try to keep up, won’t you?” he said. He grinned wide and something in his gaze glimmered. With that, the journey proceeded -- this time, with him lugging you along.

Zig zagging through every dock that contained newly boarded ships, Childe scanned each and every one carefully. It took a few more minutes of a search, but soon enough, it was a success.

Climbing down a ship on the end, a young boy stretched his arms up to the sky and stretched. He yawned loudly, too distracted to see the larger figures approaching him. To your pleasant surprise, he indeed resembled Childe. His red-orange hair to his deep, blue eyes, the two of them were no doubt brothers. Freckles smattered his nose and he wore a cozy-looking hat.

“Teucer!” Childe called out, finally releasing your hand. He stepped forward with brisk steps, a smile decorating his lips.

The boy glanced upward and instantly he brightened with adoration. “Brother!” He ran up to his brother, jumping around in excitement. “You’re here. You’re actually here!”

Your friend crouched down and engulfed the boy in a hug. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” So you weren’t imagining it. Childe was just as excited to see his brother. Your heart warming within you, you sort of felt bad to intrude on something that suddenly seemed too personal. When he finally straightened himself up, he turned his head towards you. “Ah, Teucer, I’d like you to meet someone.”

Clearing your throat, you neared the boy and leaned down slightly to extend a hand. He blinked innocently up at you and his gaze wavered from his brother to you, over and over again. Once he received a nod from Childe, he finally accepted the handshake. “Hey there, little buddy,” you said brightly, ignoring the awkward passing moment that had just occurred. “I’m [Y/N].”

“Hi there!” With that, he pulled a small toy out from nowhere and shoved it into your face. “Do you see this? My brother gave it to me during my last visit!”

“O-Oh, that’s very cool,” you said, slightly taken aback. Was it just you or did the toy look familiar to something? Maybe you were overthinking.

The Snezhnayan man ruffled the boy’s hair and chuckled. “Come on, let’s not bother Miss [Y/N] too much here. Why don’t we go up to the mountains? You want to play with Mr. Cyclops?”

Easily, the child’s face brightened immensely. He nodded long and hard, jumping around in excitement. Furrowing your forehead in confusion, you couldn’t voice your inquiry because they were both already ahead of you, leaving the docks. Quickly pursuing after them, you decided to brush it off for the time being. You had a more important matter at hand: going on this tiring trek to the mountains of Liyue. Really? This was what he would label as relaxing?

When the three of you left the entrance of the city, Childe lifted his brother onto his shoulders and extended a finger outward. “Are we ready for the travel ahead, hero Teucer?” he bellowed dramatically, playing along a role you never fathomed to see. He was so soft on his brother, it was insanely adorable to witness.

This was exactly what you meant. Another one of his sides that no one else understood but you. He was more than a notorious Fatui, more than a vengeful man, more than a weapon. You were tired of society viewing him as that way, shaping him to be how they wanted him to be.

Walking up the towering path that awaited you, you were breathing heavily by now. But Childe’s figure in front kept you going, for he was willing to carry his brother for the entirety of this trip. He was so persistent, but that was not a surprise.

The moment you reached the top of the mountain, you slumped down to the ground and leaned against a tree. A beautiful view of Liyue Harbor was seen from a distance, the structures that made up the city looking miniscule for the first time. Meanwhile, the sun was starting to set, giving off a glowy haze that blanketed the world.

Turning your head to see what the two brothers were up to, you watched as Teucer approached a Ruin Guard. Getting up hurriedly with panic taking over your expression, you were gently pushed back to the ground. “Childe… your brother!”

“He’s fine, [Y/N], don’t worry. The Ruin Guard won’t activate,” he explained.

That wasn’t the problem here! “Why… is he… playing with a… Ruin Guard?”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes warily, sitting down beside you. “I suppose I can’t get away with this, huh.” His glassy, blue hues were full of remorse and stress, and it was seemingly obvious that this was somehow taking a toll on him. “I’m keeping the Fatui a secret from him. He doesn’t know what a Ruin Guard is… so please don’t say anything!”

You shook your head and you couldn’t help but smile a little. “I won’t say anything, but I’m pretty sure this is going to bite you back in the ass someday.”

“Thank you so much!” he exclaimed, disregarding the last part. The next thing you knew, he gave you a bone-crushing hug. Your cheeks flaming up and your heart pounding long and hard against your chest, you could barely do a single thing. He had left you frozen. Too close, too close, too close. His homely scent, his touch, his heartbeat that aligned along with yours -- it was just too damn much to handle.

It was an understatement to say that you were happy when he finally released you. Coughing loudly and looking away before he could notice your flustered state, you frantically thought of something to bring up. “You’re a good, older brother,” you pointed out. “Continue to take care of him, alright?”

“So you noticed,” he said, sounding prideful. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Turning to look at him again, you stilled in confusion. He looked so serious that it almost hurt.

“Won’t you continue to take care of me?” He jutted his bottom lip out and gave you his best puppy eyes.

Letting out a laugh, you rolled your eyes. “You’re such a child, Childe.”

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

Photo

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Evan’s 6✩ Inspiration: Twilight Facet [暮光之境] Date Translation (END 5+6: Heart-throb)

“I offer you my hand, my heart, my everything; are you willing to believe me?”

*Light and Night Master-list | Evan’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *6✩ Inspirations have 6 Endings!! *CG Image used with permission from 蓝咕咕 ☆ *Evan’s tag will be #For Night, For Revolution

✥ Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ✩Light & Night★

it was the perfect time for a lunchtime nap. I…

✩ E5 LIGHT: Ask about his other bedtime habits ✩

I leaned closer to Evan out of curiosity.

MC: Then, do you have anything else prepared other than the aromatherapy? Or… are there any other rules about this stuff set in place?

Evan pauses for a moment, not saying anything.

His eyes were bright, but also as deep as an abyss. It made me tempted to venture further into it, yet I didn't dare proceed any more than half a step.

After staying in place for a few seconds, I suddenly came to the startling realization of just how close I was to him. My body couldn't help but stiffen as I carefully retracted my neck as I inched backwards.

I leaned so close to him and even asked him such a personal question. Will he think that I'm…

Evan: Are you really that interested in these things?

MC: I just wanted to understand you a little more…

I was so embarrassed that I didn't look at him at all. I kept my head lowered, my face a burning mess.

Evan chuckled lightly. His voice was as deep as ever, and it felt pleasant to the ears.

Evan: Then, I'm glad that you're the one who's trying to understand me.

Evan: But, they're all merely small habits that have followed me through childhood. Take this for example…

He picked up the delicate, yet exquisite cup, shaking the red liquid within.

Evan: This here’s called Hereafter. I started drinking it ever since I was a kid, and it has stuck with me ever since. Now, I need this to sleep.

Evan: I wasn't willing to, at first; but I slowly got used to it.

I nodded in understanding. After thinking about it for a while, I picked up the teapot and filled his cup with more of said drink.

MC: Then you should finish these off properly.

Evan: Very well.

He picked up the cup and took a sip before pausing. He looked at me a little hesitantly, a conflicted expression on his face.

MC: ...Why are you looking at me like that?

Evan: This is… a little too thick.

MC: Ah! I forgot to add water to it earlier. Sorry, sorry…

I quickly added hot water into his cup and stirred it before handing it back to him. However, his brow furrowed a little after just a sip.

Evan: It's a little too hot now.

MC: I'll blow on it for you!

I took the cup over from him without another word, blowing gently on it. It was only after I'd done it a couple of times that I heard a sudden laugh coming from him.

I froze, looking back at him in suspicion.

He was unable to wipe the smile off his face, leaning affectionately into the sofa as he observed me. His eyes sparkled with glee.

MC: ...You…

I looked at the cup and back to him again. Something clicked in my head.

Is he doing this on purpose?

He chuckled lightly, swiftly taking the cup from my grasp and gracefully downing it in one fell swoop.

Evan: Thank you. Now everything's in place.

MC: ……

He's DEFINITELY doing it on purpose!

I helped him close the curtains after he’d finished up his special drink.

MC: Is there anything else that you'd like prepared, Sir?

Evan looked at me, hesitating for a while before shaking his head.

Evan: That's all there is. Thank you.

I glanced at his dark red tie.

MC: How about I help you take off your tie then? I'm sure it'll be uncomfortable to sleep in.

Evan: ……

MC: ……

An awkward silence lapsed between us. It took some time before the realization that I’d just said something really inappropriate hit me...

I hurriedly averted my gaze away from his tie.

MC: Ahaha… What nonsense am I spouting now…

Evan: Sure.

MC: Huh?

Evan: I'll have to trouble you to help me get it off then. Thank you.

MC: ...Okay.

A warm smile slowly filtered into his orbs as he removed his gold-rimmed glasses. He slowly stood up from his reclining position and moved to stand before me.

He was tall and his shadow almost completely enveloped me. My breathing involuntarily stuttered.

I raised my head and reached upwards, carefully starting to work the knot out.

Looks like he did his tie with an exceptionally complicated knot today. I had a go at it for quite some time, but to no avail.

Evan: Is it hard to undo?

MC: A-A little… Erm, could you… bend down a little?

Evan: Alright… Looks like it was a lack of consideration on my part.

He gave an apologetic smile, moving closer to me and leaning further down.

That slightly smiling face of his suddenly drew up close. My brain blanked out, and I could do nothing but stare dumbly at him.

Evan: Will this do?

MC: ……

My breath hitched in my throat. I hurriedly averted my gaze, frantically nodding as I reached out to have another go at his tie.

However, the knot didn't budge at all no matter how hard I tried. It was almost as if the thing had a grudge on me. I couldn't help but feel a little upset at my futile efforts.

Evan: Looks like this doesn't work either. Then, how about...

The words had only just left his mouth when he suddenly reached over. He wrapped his arm around my waist and hoisted me up!

MC: !!!

I jolted. Startled by the sudden movement, I instinctively clung to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and earning another chuckle from him.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Carrying me, Evan retreated a couple of steps backwards. He seated himself on the side of the bed with me sitting sideways atop his thigh. He held my hand and brought it up to his collar which was already loose and dishevelled.

MC: Evan…

Evan: It should be much easier now. Try again?

There was a pleasantly warm smile on his face, but it was hard to ignore the firm chest pressed up to my palm, rising and falling in time with his breathing.

This is all to undo his tie, right? Still, this position is a little…

I bit my lip and tried to calm my rapid breathing. I tentatively moved a little, only to feel his entire body suddenly stiffen in response.

I stiffened as well, freezing in place. I didn't dare move an inch.

It was a few seconds later that his voice sounded in my ears again.

Evan: Are you going to start?

MC: ...Yeah.

I tried my hardest to shelve the wild thought that had taken refuge in my head as my trembling hands took hold of his tie once more.

After composing myself, I was soon able to undo his tie. I also helped him unbutton the first button of his dress shirt.

And just like that, his pretty and prominent collarbones were revealed to my eye. Going further up was his adam's apple that bobbed ever so occasionally. And going further down would be his chest, which my hand was currently pressed against, rising and falling with his every breath.

The muscles beneath my touch were firm but relaxed, rippling beneath his skin as if waiting for the perfect chance to come into play. This side of Evan was one unknown to me; one that screamed danger. Yet, it was still deadly attractive. I couldn't stop my face from flushing scarlet once more.

MC: Um… your tie's undone now… You can rest easy

Evan: I'm in no hurry. Besides, this makes up the last of my bedtime habits.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Evan: Now, how about you tell me about your bedtime habits?

MC: My bedtime habits?

I stared into his deep orbs. The ghost of a familiar melody sounded by my ears, soft and gentle.

It was the song that my grandmother used to sing to me before bed as a kid. Recalling these softened my heart and made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

MC: My grandmother used to hum to me.

Evan: A lullaby?

MC: Yup! But not just lullabies! Sometimes it's a traditional folk song, and sometimes it’s a western nursery rhyme.

MC: I recall there being one with really odd lyrics about how a leopard fell in love with a foxface rabbitfish.

MC: The foxface rabbitfish asked the leopard if it wanted to go down to the sea and see how it was like. The leopard agreed.

MC: And then they both lived happily ever after together at the bottom of the sea.

MC: Strange, isn’t it? I mean, how can a leopard live under the sea?

Evan: ...What if it's possible?

MC: Huh?

I looked towards Evan. His eyes were slightly drooping, his eyelashes casting small shadows upon his features. I couldn’t read his expressions all that well.

It was a while before he looked back at me again. This time, with his beautiful eyes fully open, and the corners of his lips curled into his usual smile.

Evan: Can you sing it to me?

MC: Yeah… Sure thing.

I softly sang him that weird nursery rhyme of mine, again and again, in a never-ending loop.

I didn’t know how many times I sang the whole rhyme in succession; but just as I stopped once more at the part where the foxface rabbitfish asked the leopard whether it wanted to visit the sea, Evan’s head suddenly fell onto the crook of my neck.

MC: !!

The nursery rhyme came to an abrupt stop as my ears were slowly filled with another sound.

It was the sound of his long and steady breathing, gently sounding in my ears. Soon, it permeated through my thin clothes, melting into my skin. His hair was soft and a little ticklish as it brushed against my neck, making my heart pound in unrest.

Our surroundings were silent, with only the soft crackling of the fireplace and the intoxicating fragrance that wafted in the air.

It felt like it was going to be a long, long time before this nap was over.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

it was the perfect time for a lunchtime nap. I…

★ E6 NIGHT: Don't hold him up from his afternoon nap ★

It just so happens that it's the perfect time for a lunchtime nap now…

MC: Am I getting in the way of your rest? I'll wait for you out in the hall then. Have a good nap!

With that said, I moved to head out to the hall. However, I hadn't yet gotten a step further before Evan caught me by the wrist.

Evan: Wait.

The unique temperature of his body slowly spreads upon my skin. His touch brought about a slight coolness, momentarily freezing me in place.

MC: ...What's up?

I secretly peeked at the hand he used to hold onto mine. His fingers were pale and long, but there was an undeniable strength behind them. It unwittingly made people a little nervous.

Evan: I was just going to tell you that I don't intend to take an afternoon nap at all today. But what I do have, is an important document that needs my signature.

MC: Uh… I'll still wait for you out in the hall?

Evan: You can just stay here.

MC: Won't I disturb you?

Evan: You won't. I'm more worried that you'd find it boring here.

Evan: The other door in my room connects to my Study. You can go there and kill time if you feel bored.

Now that he mentions it… I do recall seeing a heavy wooden door on the other side of his bedroom…

MC: Ohh… I'll go check out your Study then!

Evan: Sure. I'll go look for you once I'm done.

MC: Okey-dokey!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

A step into the study was all it took for me to be completely blown away by what awaited inside.

MC: Jesus Christ. These bookshelves span several walls… Who in the world has this many books in their study? It’s kind of amazing in its own right...

And it wasn’t just the bookshelves. There was also a large projector screen on the other end of the study that nearly covered the entire wall.

MC: I’d probably disrupt his work if I watch a movie here… Guess I’ll be better off looking for a book.

But rather than searching the shelves in search of a book, the thought of just what books he'd have in here intrigued me further.

MC: Wow, the bottom few shelves are filled with the biographies of famous people, mystery novels, travel guides… He even has picture books here!

MC: I never knew that he reads such a wide array of books. I wonder if the upper shelves will yield any new discoveries?

I took the stepladder that was placed not too far off and climbed up on it. I excitedly continued my perusal of what books his shelves offered. After a considerable amount of effort, I managed to pull out a thin and old book from amongst a couple of thick books on the history of music.

MC: “Jane Eyre”? Huh…? Was “Jane Eyre” supposed to be this thin, again? And it looks pretty well-thumbed too...

Curious, I opened it.

This was an incomplete copy of "Jane Eyre". There were thick scars on the spine of the book, formed from having its pages torn out. Someone had ripped out nearly ¾ of the book's contents.

Flipping it open, the very first page detailed the part where Jane Eyre wished to leave Thornfield Hall after learning that Rochester was about to get married. Conflicted with her turmoil of emotions, Jane walks to Mr. Rochester's orchard. She'd intended to sneak away as if she was never there, only to be halted by Rochester. And in the end, they finally managed to understand their true feelings for each other under the moonlight, in the eventide breeze that was tinged with the fragrance of jasmine interlaced with roses.

But why does this book start from here? What happened to all the content in front?

Evan: What book is it that has gotten you so engrossed?

MC: !

The low voice that suddenly sounded by my ear made my breathing hitch. Turning around, I hurriedly hid the book behind my back, just like how one would when the teacher found out that they were secretly reading a book in class.

Evan, dressed only in a white dress shirt, was looking at me with a smile that reached his eyes. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and the warmth in his eyes that were normally hidden behind the lenses now faced me in full force.

MC: ...You… You're done with work?

Evan smiled, reaching out to help me adjust the hemline of my skirt that had gotten slightly rumpled.

Evan: Yes. So, what were you reading?

MC: This.

I brought the book I'd hidden behind me back out front.

Evan: Jane Eyre.

His low and pleasantly smooth voice intonated, seemingly touching my very heart. It was like magic; one that miraculously made my heart race.

Evan looked back up at me after reading the title. He had a knowing look in his eyes that was soon disrupted by a flicker of mischief.

I didn't know why, but I didn't quite dare to look up at him right now.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Evan: “I believe you must leave now. I am sorry, but I believe indeed you must.”

MC: Huh? ...O-Oh, I’ll leave now…

Evan: “Exactly, precisely: with your usual acuteness, you have hit the nail straight on the head.”

This… sounds like the lines I’ve just read in “Jane Eyre”...?

Deep down, Jane truthfully didn't want to leave. However, Mr. Rochester had already arranged everything for her departure.

Her job, her destination, and even her future to come.

Evan: “Do you like Ireland? ...You’ll like Ireland, I think.”

He spoke with a low voice, looking at me with a sort of seriousness that I’d never seen before.

It felt as if that line wasn’t from Rochester, directed to Jane; but rather, from Evan to me.

Confounded, I slowly opened my mouth to respond to him.

MC: “It is a long way off, sir. Not the voyage, but the distance: and then the sea is a barrier—”

Evan: "From what, hm?”

MC: “From England and from Thornfield: and一 From you, Sir.”

The words had just left my lips when Evan reached a hand out, bringing it up to my waist. Just a little bit of strength behind his fingertips was all it took for him to hoist me upwards, pressing my upper body closer to him.

Suddenly, the distance between us disappeared. We were so close that our breaths intermingled.

Evan: “I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you— especially when you are near me, as now.”

Evan: “Are you anything akin to me, do you think?”

He gazed at me, his breath brushing across my skin in a manner as intoxicating as wine, effectively sending my rationality out of the window.

I gaped in an attempt to say something. However, my words were eviscerated into nothing by the deep red hue in his eyes.

We stared at each other as we stood within the tall and large study filled with the scent of ink. It felt like we were nothing but the small minuscule dust particles that filtered in with the sun’s rays.

So small, so minuscule that it was almost non-existent; yet still able to hang onto the other, while adrift, fluttering all the same.

Evan: “I offer you my hand, my heart, my everything.”

Evan: “Are you willing to believe me?”

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

My heart thudded heavily in my chest. It felt as if time had come to a stand-still.

I lost myself in the moment, forgetting who I was or where I was. The only thing I wanted to do now was to entrust my heart to him in all its genuineness, and to stay in this beautiful and pleasant moment forever.

According to the story, this was when Jane and Rochester finally gained a mutual understanding of their emotions for each other, sharing a long passionate kiss.

Evan's eyes lowered, coming to a slight close. His fine lashes fluttered downwards as the pale yellow light illuminated his face, casting small beautiful shadows upon his features. He slightly turned his head, the breath that had been one with mine shifting. It brushed against my face, hot and ticklish.

My body seemingly loses the ability to move, and all I could do was stare dumbfoundedly at the face with well-defined features slowly advancing closer.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

At the very last second, I hurriedly covered my face with the book that I'd let rest against my chest in a desperate act.

And in turn, blocking off what could have happened; something that was capable of making my heart stop beating right then and there.

The air was filled with a moment of silence that was soon broken by Evan's laughter.

MC: You…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

I slowly and carefully lowered the book that'd been covering my face. I watched as Evan lowered his head, leaning it against the crook of my neck as he laughed, shoulders quaking in his mirth.

MC: Stop… stop laughing at me…

Evan: Okay, no laughing.

Evan: ...I'm really happy, (Y/n).

Evan's laughter slowly died off, but his head remained firmly planted onto my shoulder. I quietly relished in the moment of intimate contact with burning cheeks.

MC: Erm… Why’s this book missing so many pages?

Evan: This belonged to my mother. It was already in this state when I first saw it.

Oh, so that’s how it is. Then… perhaps it’s because his mother liked how brave Jane was in this part of the story?

MC: She dared defy; she dared to love.

Evan: Yes. Although, I think my mother will definitely like you much more if she had the chance to meet you.

MC: But… I’m nowhere near as brave as Jane.

He gave a small chuckle before letting go of my shoulder, watching me with a profound look in his eyes. It was as if the Evan that had been reciting Mr. Rochester’s lines had made a comeback.

In the same manner, as Rochester would gaze affectionately at Jane… No. No, that wasn’t it… Those eyes, that gaze… It was Evan who was looking at me so.

Reflected within his orbs were twin silhouettes of me.

He patted my head, his low and intoxicating voice taking on a slightly far-away tone, yet still managing to grace my ears.

Evan: My liking you has absolutely nothing to do with “Jane Eyre”.

Evan: You are (Y/n), and I am Evan. Nothing more, nothing less.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Time flew past.

The glow of the sunset had begun to set in when Aunt Wang finally sent up my dry-cleaned clothes.

Seeing her so busy, I couldn't help feeling a tinge of regret at being the cause of it.

MC: I've brought so much trouble for them both… I should do something to thank them well next time!

Evan looked at me and closed the book in his hand.

Evan: They're usually the only ones here, so it'll do them a little good to be busy once in a while.

Evan: Having something to do would also make it feel all the more fulfilling.

MC: Mmhm… But I can't help but feel like they're already busy even without us, and now that we're here…

MC: Plus Uncle Chen looked like he was in a huge hurry when I took upon the task of sending the drink for him. It was like he was here for a moment, and gone like the wind in the next.

A flicker of doubt appears on Evan's face upon hearing this.

Evan: Is he truly that busy?

MC: Yeah, he is… He had to rush here to deliver your drink, and he also had to rush over to give the fireplace a change of coal.

MC: Plus, this is also one huge place. Even with the two of them here, they must be pretty busy keeping this place all neat and tidy.

Evan: They do have their work cut out for them, but…

Evan: I seem to recall that we do have scheduled professionals who come by to take care of the fireplace here, so there's no need for either of them to do it themselves.

MC: ...Huh? But he said…

A strange thought suddenly struck me, the realization making the words die in my throat.

Did Uncle Chen make me… bring Evan's drink to him on purpose?

I stared at Evan, absolutely dumbfounded.

He didn't say anything either, only chuckling lightly after a few seconds.

Evan: I suppose, sometimes, having a fireplace at home isn't all that bad.

He'd said it all so naturally, yet I couldn't help but feel like there was something a little off about it. Especially when it came to the word "fireplace". It unwittingly made me recall how oddly Uncle Chen and Aunt were acting… and their ambiguous smiles.

I silently adverted my gaze, biting on my lips as I spoke in barely a whisper.

MC: I'm definitely not getting a fireplace installed in my house next time…

Evan: Hm?

MC: Oh, nothing… nothing! I was just talking to myself!

Evan: That so?

Evan drew both of his arms up to his jaw, propping his chin on it as his heavy gaze fell upon my being.

Under the light of the setting sun, his expression was one of calm contentment and warmth.

He smiled, his voice a low baritone.

Evan: Your wish is my command. No fireplaces in the future.

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✥ Choose another Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 + 3 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 4 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 5 + 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ✩Light & Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Revolution⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: Prologue

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #陆��#Evan #For Night For Revolution #暮光之境 #Twilight Facet

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novelconcepts · 3 years

Note

Excuse you...😭 The first prompt being absolutely Older Jamie having a cat that bonds with her AND Dani... Sad hours in this house, damn

She never let them have pets. There isn't much Dani Clayton regrets--isn't much point, she's found, in the endless, boundless stretch of after--but sometimes, she does regret that much. Jamie always laughed it off, said she didn’t mind--What do I need pets for? Got more than enough to keep alive, thanks very much.--but Dani knew she’d never had animals growing up. Hadn’t stood still long enough for a cat, or a rabbit, or even fish. Maybe it’s true that you can’t miss what you never had, but she can’t help wondering if Jamie’s got some little puncture, deep down, that should have been filled with a big-hearted creature who would have put her first.

And Dani, to her eternal chagrin, hadn’t been able to fill that. Hadn’t been able to allow herself that. The beast, she was sure, would someday rise, and it was bad enough to think of Jamie going without. Bad enough to imagine Jamie staring hollowly at the door, wishing for Dani’s key in the lock. What would a dog have done? What would an animal who had only ever wanted love and to be loved have thought, the day Dani inevitably left and could not return home again?

How she’d thought of it in life, anyway. Now, she’s aware of so much. Aware of time in a slipstream around her, of the immediacy of the past, the present, the future all bound up with gold-edged ribbon. She is Dani Clayton, eight years old and watching her father waste to nothing, and she is Dani Clayton, twenty-nine and watching Eddie laugh at their engagement party, and she is Dani Clayton, thirty-one and watching Jamie nervously place a moonflower on a counter. Forever, she is Dani Clayton--the lost little girl, the stubborn young woman, the beloved wife.

And Jamie? Jamie does not yet understand forever. She isn’t yet a part of the slipstream. Jamie is silver-haired, twisting that ring: a gardener and a widow, a storyteller and a scarred heart. Jamie doesn’t get it yet. Dani wishes she could tell her. Wishes she could impart the wisdoms of after while Jamie can still make use of them.

She can’t. She’s tried. Her hand on Jamie’s shoulder, night after night, she’s tried to will the knowledge into the love of her life. I’m here. I’m always right here. You have to keep living, Jamie, you have to keep going, because I will always be right here.

For years, she’s worried it’ll never sink in. For years, which are moments, which are blinks, she watches Jamie stagger through the world. Jamie, making bargains with gods and ghosts. Jamie, unable to see her, unable to let her go. Jamie, desperate and grieving and miserable. It sets an ache in Dani’s chest she hadn’t thought she could feel anymore. All time is now. How is there still pain?

But watching Jamie--watching her run baths, button into Dani’s old blouses, prop that god-forsaken door open in dozens of hotels over the years--how could it not be painful? Watching Jamie hurt is the worst of the world. Watching Jamie in her recklessness, watching solid, grounded Jamie crack open one empty mirror at a time. How could it not dig at her?

You’ll understand, Dani thinks--and it is as much a wish as a certainty. Someday. Soon. Now. Always. You’ll understand. The gardener always learns. The gardener always listens. The gardener can’t not piece it together, given enough time.

But, for Jamie, it’s slow. It’s linear. It’s one day at a time, one year after another. For Jamie, it’s another Christmas alone. Another of Dani’s birthdays celebrated in silence: a lit candle, a photo, a woman bent over her own knees as her shoulders shudder. For Jamie, time plods. Time bleeds. Time is a wound she can’t stitch shut.

And then: the first one follows her home.

It’s an accident, Dani knows--would know, even if Jamie hadn’t in recent years taken to muttering to herself in the solace of an empty room. Jamie hadn’t even realized it was happening until the scruffy little mongrel followed her off the street, into the building. It sits--curly black fur, enormous brown eyes--at her side as if waiting. As if the invitation is implicit. As if it’s already home.

“No,” Jamie says. Dani can’t help smiling; there’s something to Jamie saying no that way that has always sounded an awful lot like a wall coming down. And, sure enough, the minute the door is open, the dog saunters inside as though it has never belonged anywhere else.

A bit, Dani thinks, like Jamie after Dani had taken her hand that night.

It’s an accident, but Jamie has never been much good at turfing out creatures in need of love once they’re inside. The dog stays. Jamie calls him Iowa--it seems to have been the first thing to slip out of her mouth, and the dog cocks his head and wags his nub of a tail, and that’s that. Jamie, for the first time in her life--fifty-seven years old, paying rent on her first flat in over a decade--has a pet.

Dani thinks it’ll be good for her. A dog begs routine. A dog needs walks, and feeding at reasonable hours, and doors that are shut at night. That Iowa seems older--relaxed and certain and just a bit bull-headed--is even better. He doesn’t run ragged around the flat, knocking into tables, shattering flower pots. He simply trots along at Jamie’s side as though he’s always been there.

It would be enough, Dani senses, if it were just the two of them. Jamie has always thrived in the caring for other living things. Jamie is happiest when given a task, a hands-on approach to the world. The dog, she may not have sought out--but the dog is hers, and she is his, and there is a kind of salvation in unexpected love.

The next one is even more of an accident, if that’s possible. A huge bear of a beast, shaggy and stained and wet-eyed. Jamie finds it limping through the streets of London with mud caked on its belly and head hung low. No tags. No marker of any kind. Iowa nudges her around the knees, looking at the mountainous creature, and Jamie sighs.

“No,” she tells him, but Dani--and Iowa--can tell it’s a lie even before the syllable is completely formed. Jamie is already reaching a cautious hand toward the trembling dog. It whimpers. It presses its nose to her outstretched fingers. Iowa’s tail wags.

London is, when given a proper bath and brushing, quite beautiful. Her limp is temporary; her attachment to Iowa in particular, eternal. The first night, with the dog resting her chin on Jamie’s knee, stretched across a threadbare couch, Jamie says, “Found it on the street. Wanted to save it” in a tone that suggests she’s speaking from a dream. Her jaw clenches. Her eyes close. Dani has never wanted so badly to break her own rules.

Neither dog seems to notice her. She’s relieved, in a way; Jamie’s nightly ritual never wavers, save for reluctantly closing the door--as with so many features of Jamie’s world, the safety of others precludes her own--and if the dogs began barking at shadows, it’s likely Jamie would never sleep again. Anyway, these aren’t her pets. Jamie has saved them--or they’ve saved her--and that bond is one Dani can’t muster envy for.

Two dogs and a home full of plants. It doesn’t bring the light back into Jamie’s eyes, not all the way, but she walks a bit taller these days. Fidgets a little less. Cries often enough, but now there are soft muzzles to press her face against when she does. It’s better, Dani can see. Nothing will ever be what it was, but better is sometimes the most you can ask for in life.

The third dog is less an accident, more a surprise. A two-for-one deal, to a degree; Jamie has wandered into the local shelter, where she’s taken to volunteering on weekends, and come across a sharp-toothed, snappish shepherd no one else seems able to touch. He’s been through the ringer, the other volunteers say, sage and exhausted by similar experiences. Abuse, probably. Neglect, probably. Only three or four, but with enough mistrust baked into his bones for three lifetimes.

“He doesn’t like men,” one weary-looking young man says. “Or people who move too fast. Or multiple people coming at him all at once.”

“Can relate,” Jamie says, her mouth quirking. Dani laughs. “What does he like?”

The volunteer points. There, in the back of the shepherd’s cage, is a lithe black shadow. It blinks lantern-gold eyes up at Jamie, tail twitching, and makes a rasping sound that might, in another animal, have been a proper meow.

“Came in same-day. Can’t separate ‘em. Not sure how we’re going to get them adopted.”

Jamie rubs her jaw, left hand hesitating on the way down. She touches the tip of a finger to her ring and heaves a sigh.

“Fuck.”

She calls the shepherd Paris, and though it takes time--several patient weeks, Jamie turning up at regular hours each day to coax the nervy animal into growing accustomed to her smell, her voice, her easy-slow method of moving--by the time the papers are signed, there’s no changing it. The flat is now overrun, dog hair clinging to every surface, water bowls standing sentry in the kitchen. The cat’s litterbox goes into the bathroom, Jamie frowning a little as she surveys the new landscape of her home.

“You,” she tells the cat. “Best behavior. Anything goes crash in the night, it’s your hide.”

The cat preens, rubbing around her ankles. Jamie sighs.

“Christ, if she could see me now.”

Something tugs deep in Dani’s chest--pride, and sorrow, and love of the most fervent kind. The dogs--proud Iowa, sweet London, Paris keeping a careful distance from both--are draped around the living room. Jamie’s home is theirs. Jamie is their home. Dani knows so well what that feels like. They’re lucky creatures.

The dogs are sleepy, warm, happy. The cat--

The cat is looking at her.

Dani frowns. She’s imagining things. Must be. She’s been drifting around Jamie--traveling the world at her side, resting a hand over her shoulder each night--for years and years. Nothing has ever looked at her. Nothing has ever seen her. Not Jamie. Not the dogs. Nothing.

But this cat. This cat, with its huge golden eyes, black ears twitching, is staring right at her.

“Huh,” says Dani.

“Mrow,” says the cat.

“C’mon,” says Jamie, oblivious to it all. “Supper.”

Days go by before Jamie properly names the cat. She strokes her fingers gently over the creature’s back, tracing the length of spine and tail, and frowns each night. “Who,” she says quietly, “are you?”

The cat butts against her palm, rumbling deep in its chest. Jamie makes a soft pensive sound.

“Vermont?” She shakes her head. “Nah. You’re different, mm? Somethin’ else.”

The cat chirps, turning its head, gazing into the corner where Dani is leaning. Dani raises a hand, wiggling her fingers experimentally. The cat makes the same noise a second time, as if in greeting. Jamie raises an eyebrow.

“Eerie little beast. Never thought I was much for cats, y’know. But here you are.”

Never thought you were much for people, either, Dani thinks with amusement. Didn’t stop you drawing us all close.

In the end, Jamie begins calling the cat Gremlin. A nickname, offered in warning, at first--any time she moved too near a plant, or experimentally sniffed at London’s paws while she slept, Jamie would quietly intone, “Oi. Gremlin. Back it up.” It is, in its own way, reminiscent of the way Poppins had clung to their first year--an accidental gift cherished by its recipient.

Dani can tell the cat--rumbling her pleasure each time the name is used--agrees. Plants are left to their devices. The dogs seem strangely hard-wired to accept the cat as their queen. Jamie shakes her head.

“So be it, suppose.”

It’s good, watching her build a routine around them. Dani hasn’t seen her stand this still since Vermont, but the dogs love the nearby park, and Gremlin sunbathes happily on the balcony, and Jamie seems, for the first time in years, to be fostering a simple sort of peace. The baths still fill, and her eyes are still too often far-away, but the door is shut. The dogs stretch out around the living room--which doubles, as all living spaces have for a decade, as Jamie’s bedroom--as if warding off intruders. The cat sets up shop on the back of the couch, peering down with regal bearing as Jamie slowly dozes off. And, when Dani inevitably presses a hand toward Jamie’s shoulder the first night--

“Hey,” she says, very quietly. “What’s this?”

Gremlin makes a raspy sort of sound, nudging toward her. She does not make contact, exactly; Dani hasn’t quite figured out touch, in all this time. She hasn’t had much cause. Touching Jamie is a dream, an ache she has carried since her death that reminds her forcefully of before, at Bly, when she hadn’t thought herself worthy or capable. Touching Jamie is the one part of all of this that still feels linear--I could touch her in life, and I can touch her when she gets here, but in between...in between...

In between, Dani can reach toward her. Can brush the space around her shoulder. Can be here, with her, in every way except directly, because some things are still unfair. Like Jamie feeling alone, even with Dani right here. Like Dani being able to always-someday-soon-now except for where it matters most.

She is in the kitchen at Bly, and she is in their bedroom in Vermont, and she is 1976, 1988, 1999, and she is--

Almost petting this cat. Almost. Her brows come sharply together, her heart thudding.

“How?” she asks Gremlin, who seems not to mind. The cat presses in a bit harder, as if to say, Keep trying. Dani sees no reason not to obey.

Each night, the animals spread around Jamie in a protective circle: Paris at the door, London beside the couch, Iowa nestled between Jamie’s knees. Each night, Gremlin sets up on the back of the couch, watching Jamie’s breath even out, and turns those enormous eyes on Dani.

And, little by little...

She can’t pick the cat up, or close her hands gently around her face. She can’t make the kind of contact she would as a living woman--matter pressing against matter, mass imposing upon mass. But her fingers are unequivocally brushing thick black fur. She can feel the cat’s breath on her skin. This is true, and real, and solid--and the cat, looking entirely too proud of herself, can plainly feel her in return.

Dani Clayton has been dead for over a decade, and Dani Clayton has been here all the same ever since, but for the first time, Dani Clayton is touching. Dani Clayton is feeling, not simply in the ether of memory, but now.

She holds a breath as Gremlin rubs against her fingers. She’s still holding it when, slowly, carefully, she reaches down to the couch.

Her fingers brush silver. Jamie’s brow knits, her lips parting. She’s always looked like this in sleep--as though some part of her just isn’t willing to shut down all the way. She’s always looked as though some part of her needs to be on guard.

Now, with Dani’s fingers threading through her hair, that tight, armored expression gives a little bit. Just a little.

In the morning, Dani wonders if Jamie’s eyes will flicker open and she will, finally, see her. There’s a breathless kind of terror to the idea--that she’s gone this long keeping Jamie safe from diving permanently into her own grief, only for a cat to undo all of that work. But, when the sun rises and Jamie rises with it, she gives no sign at all. No sign that she can see Dani, standing beside the couch, though Gremlin is staring right at her. No sign that anything has changed.

Except--except her hand, lingering at the crown of her head. Her fingers, sifting almost absently through her hair, tracing the same path Dani had been unable to pull away from. Her brow furrows. Her head shakes.

“Breakfast?” she asks the animals in various stages of waking around her. Gremlin stretches, back leg popped high, and hops down. Dani doesn’t think she’s imagining the cat’s easy swagger as she makes her way to the kitchen.

It isn’t the life she’d imagined for Jamie, laying awake and watching her sleep. Not the life she’d wanted for Jamie, hoping as hard as she could that the beast would remain always at bay. She’d never looked at Jamie and expected dogs to follow her home, hurt and lonely and in need of someone to show them the world can be kind. She hadn’t expected a cat with a swishing tail and a regal demeanor, standing sentinel. Jamie’s life has never quite veered in this direction before.

But: watching her now, as she slips a bit of apple to each dog, strokes the cat, leans her hip against the counter as she waits for the water to boil, Dani has to admit it suits her. Jamie has always been at her best giving love, even against her own better judgement.

In time, Dani’s sense of soon-someday-now-always will broaden to encompass Jamie, as well. The years will press on. There will come a time where the brush of Dani’s hand across her sleeping cheek--the phantom press of Dani soothing Jamie out of a particularly bad nightmare--will evolve into the intertwining of finally standing on the same plane again. It is the natural order of things. Organic. Dani, standing outside of time, is patient.

And Jamie: is slowly building herself a home again. Jamie is waking to take dogs out, and brushing down Gremlin’s ink-black fur, and looking more present in the world than she’s been in a decade. Jamie, staring into the mirror each night with Paris pressed resolutely against her legs, Iowa hovering in the doorway, almost smiles.

“Someday,” she murmurs, “I am going to have some stories for you.”

Dani smiles. She knows, of course--outside of time, it’s hard not to know--but she can’t wait to hear them, all the same. Stories always land a little differently, coming out of Jamie’s mouth.

Soon, she promises silently. Someday. Always. Now.

In the meantime, Jamie reaches for a bundle of leashes, giving Gremlin a brief scratch between the ears. She pauses at the door, glancing back over her shoulder, her eyes drifting over Dani without notice. At her side, heading the pack, Iowa gives a small bark to confirm his readiness.

“Right,” says Jamie softly. “Back soon.”

It is the first time in too long Dani has been sure she will be okay.

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #dani x jamie #damie #right. caveat: this was way harder to do than something this short should have been #so whether I'll do another immediately or not for weeks--can't say #but your message came in and I couldn't resist building out the headcanon #because frankly the original post made my wife cry and that gave me some feelings #also wow haven’t been like. painfully anxious posting a fic in a long-ass time #whew hi I’m suddenly 14 again

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whumperooni · 4 years

Text

snowfall

Pairing: Drug dealer!Keigo x Model!College Student!Reader

Tags/Warnings: tw noncon, tw drug use, tw eating disorders, blowjobs, humiliation, verbal abuse, slightly yan keigo, dumbification

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: This was written in response to a request! Drug dealer Keigo makes my mind go stoopid and I just want him to fuck me up in every way possible ♡

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You really have some fuckin’ nerve.

“I- I’m so sorry, but I can’t. I have a shoot that day and a test too...”

Yeah, and? Doesn’t mean you don’t have time to hook up with him.

You always have excuses and it’s getting pretty old. Don’t you know who he is? Don’t you know he runs this town? Don’t you know that no one tells him no?

Keigo grins- perfect teeth showing and head tilting- and he gives you a nod, watches as relief washes over your face.

Oh no, darling, you’re not getting off that easy- it’s time for you to learn that you belong to him just like the rest of this whole goddamn city.

You’re nervous and shy, sure. He gets it. You’re not one of the party girls- you’re just a hopeless little thing trying to make mommy and daddy proud by being their pretty, desperate cashcow. Have to stay thin and bony if you want to get on the next magazine cover. Have to lose your appetite if you want to be small enough to be a big star. And, he helps with that. He gives shy, sad you what you need.

He gets that you’re hesitant about hooking up with your dealer. He’s been nice about it. But he can dash away all your worries if given the chance- all you need is for him to show you how good it’ll be.

All you need is for him to show you that you belong to him- just like everyone else in this fucking town does.

“It’s okay, darlin’,” he drawls out. “No hard feelings.”

You relax more and Keigo nearly scoffs, hides it behind a platinum grin.

You should feel lucky he’s been so patient.

(So far. Really, you’re hurting him, you know? He’s been so good to you- can’t you at least give him a smile and a sweeter apology for being so frigid?)

Keigo drags his gaze over you, takes in your innocent sundress and the bags under your eyes, the fragile weariness that never seems to escape you.

You’re such a pathetic little thing. All he wants to do is sit you in the lap of luxury, have you reeling from pleasure and never wanting for anything. Fuck your family- he can be all the family you need. He can be your daddy, spoil you stupid and keep you in ecstasy- keep you lost in a such a glorious haze that you’ll never find your way out, never want to get out.

You’d make such a pretty little pet- dumb and smiling with glossy eyes and bruise marked skin, fattened up and wrapped in silk, lace. A good little girl content under his thumb.

Why can’t you see it? Why the fuck can’t you understand that you belong with him? That you belong to him?

Keigo’s eyes narrow as you start to make your excuses to leave and his teeth clench while he grins, his patience frays and snaps.

“Hey, wait a second, sweetheart,” he calls out- keeping it friendly, light; a direct opposition to the cool anger and frustration snaking through him. You stop in your tracks and look over your shoulder- inquisitive, cute, so naive.

“Yes, Hawks?”

Hawks. He’s getting tired of that name falling from your lips- he wants to hear his real name from you; he wants to hear you whine and moan and scream it.

Keigo widens his grin and he crooks a finger toward you, tilts his head as you blink your curiosity.

“C’mere,” he coaxes. “I’ve got somethin’ new for you to try. No charge, promise- I just want my favorite customer’s opinion.”

Hesitance flutters over your face and it’s hard for him not to huff at the way you waver, the way you bite your lip and scrunch your brows together in contemplation.

“Come on,” he presses. “It’s good shit- this’ll keep you up all night and you won’t even wanna raid the fridge while you study. You said you had a shoot comin’ up, right? Don’t wanna risk a binge before that.”

Repulsion, shame, hurt, panic- it all flashes across your face in a rapid fire sequence. He’s being a dick by saying it, yeah, but he doesn’t care- not when you’ve been so frigid for so long, not when he knows it’s going to have you agreeing like a good little girl.

And you do agree. With a frown and eyes that are a little wet, with teeth nibbling at your bottom lip and a bowed head, you agree.

Keigo’s grin grows and he waves you to follow him over to the couch, plops down on it and smirks when you sit down quietly beside him.

You don’t say a word as he starts cutting it up- you just watch him with a still bitten lips and your hands clasped in your lap. The look you give him when he’s done is a little unsure, but you sigh when he raises a brow and you lean down toward the table without any real reluctance- one hand going to brush your hair back from your face in an elegant little move that shouldn’t preface the way you oh so expertly snort that stark white line off his ebony coffee table.

A tiny shudder and swipe of your hand under your nose and then you’re sitting up again, blinking at him and wetting your lips.

“What do ya think?” he asks- casual, like he doesn’t know what’s about to happen, like he doesn’t know how fucked you’re about to be in just a few seconds.

“It’s, um,” you start up, voice already dipping a little dumb and hazy. “It was, um...um...”

Um. Um. Um.

God, you’re so fuckin’ stupid. So fuckin’ cute.

A tiny noise and then your lashes are fluttering, your body is swaying gently as your fingers curl and uncurl against your thighs.

“H-Hawks? What...I don’t...”

You slump against the couch, whimpering, and Keigo’s eyes grow hooded as a flush creeps across your face, as you give a sluggish little squirm and moan.

“Aw, baby, what is it?” he croons. “Was that a bit too much for my favorite little junkie?”

Even with you fucked up, tears still spring to your eyes and Keigo grins as a whimper sounds from you, reaches a hand over and swipes a tear from the corner of your eye.

“I know, I know,” he hums. “That was mean, wasn’t it? But you’ve been so mean to me, angel. Such a frigid little bitch. You’re the only coke whore I know that doesn’t want to fuck.”

“Ha- Hawks-”

It’s so whiny, so small. He likes it, though- likes the tears in your eyes and the tears in your voice, the way you sniffle and look at him with a blurry, hazy, dumb gaze.

“You gotta understand,” Keigo continues on, gripping your cheek and leaning over you, forcing you to fall back against the arm of the couch. “You really left me no choice. I’ve been so nice to you, ya know? All I wanna do is take you out and show you a good time. I just wanna fuck you, princess, and give you a good life.”

Another whimper, a tiny little shudder. You can’t fight the way his free hand runs up your thigh and you can’t fight the way his fingers rip your panties to the side, run up your slit.

“I wouldn’t have had to do this if you weren’t such a prude,” he says with a sigh. Crystalline tears drip down your cheeks and he hums, noses at your temple and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Shh, baby, shh- daddy’s going to take care of you. You’re gonna love it, babe, and you’re gonna love me.”

“Hawks-”

Two fingers plunging into your cunt cuts you off and Keigo smirks as your cushy insides pulse around him, pulls his head back so he can grin down at you and wrap his hand around your throat, choke off that sob that’s trying to sound.

“It’s Keigo,” he tells you. “No more Hawks- it’s Keigo from now on, okay?”

You only whimper in response and Keigo huffs at that, chokes you a bit harder.

“Say it,” he orders. “Call me by my name.”

He loosens his hold on your throat and you cough, arch your back in a pathetic little move whenever his fingers curl deep inside of your cunt.

“K- Keigo...”

“That’s a good girl,” he coos- condescendingly, his lips curled into a smirk, satisfaction filling him as your hips grind against him and your lashes flutter.

Good- the ketamine is starting to kick in.

You whine- soft and small, head lolling to the side. He takes the time to smooth his hand down to your chest and he pinches at your nipples- what a fuckin’ tease to go braless and still have the gall to reject him- and twists them to make you whine again, let out slurred mumble of his name.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he hums, squeezing your tit and smoothing his thumb over your clit. “Isn’t daddy making you feel good?”

You nod, dumbly, and Keigo’s smirk grows as you try to reach a hand up to him only for it to fall limp against the couch.

“You were missin’ out on this, sweetheart,” he huffs. “But you’re not gonna miss out anymore- daddy Keigo’s gonna take real good care of ya from now on.”

Another dumb nod- pupils blown and your lips parted, mind spinning as you agree to something that you can’t possibly comprehend when you’re flying so high. Keigo slips in another finger and you come on them, mewl like a stupid little slut as you tremble weakly underneath him.

He takes them out from you and reaches a hand over without looking, sticks his fingers inside the open baggie waiting for him on the table and then shoves them into your gaping mouth. You suckle on them like a good little whore and Keigo’s smirk almost softens as you look up at him through your lashes, as you drool all over his rings and digits.

Oh, yeah, this is gonna be real easy- he’ll have you complacent and adoring and dumb for him in no time.

He should have done this sooner.

Keigo wrenches his fingers from your mouth and you whine when he does, moan as your head tilts back and your fingers twitch along the couch. You don’t fight him at all when he pushes you to the floor and you don’t do anything but whimper when he drags you by the hair, pulls you between his legs and to his crotch.

You’re like a doll on your knees for him- mind blank and eyes bright, so thoughtless and pretty with spit on your chin and a flush flared across your cheeks. He could get used to the sight, but he likes it even better when he pulls his cock out and you begin to mouth at it slowly, smear pre-cum and drool all over your face as you nuzzle against it in a drugged haze.

“Ah, shit, angel,” he sighs out- content as he curls his fingers through your hair, as he reaches for his smokes with his free hand. “Can’t tell ya how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

You slur out some nonsense to him and Keigo ignores it as he lights up. He takes a draw and he exhales- satisfaction and smoke slipping from him as you sloppily take his head into your mouth.

You don’t fight him when he pushes your head down and Keigo grunts as your tongue writhes against his shaft, curls his fingers tighter into your hair as your throat relaxes, as your lashes flutter shut.

“Take it all, baby,” he drawls. “And ya better swallow it down when I come. Better keep it down, too- daddy knows his little whore likes an empty stomach, but you gotta take everything I give ya. Gotta be a good little baby for me. You- fuck, shit- you gotta take. it. all.”

Keigo fucks up into your mouth, punctuates the words with a rock of his hips that smushes your nose into the curls around his cock. You still don’t fight, but you do whimper and more tears begin to spill as he fucks your throat, buries his cock deep inside and grinds.

When he comes, you swallow it all down- cough and whine but still swallow his seed, blink your wet lashes up at him and stare at him with fucked out little doe eyes that get his cock hard all over again.

Keigo pulls you into his lap with a grin and he reaches over, plucks the baggie from the table and scoops up your favorite little treat with his fingers, shoves it under your nose and watches as you obediently, thoughtlessly, dumbly snort it all up.

You really are such a good little bitch when fucked up- he really, really should have done this sooner. Would have done it sooner if he had realized how easy this would be.

He just wanted to give you a chance is all, though- too bad for you that you didn’t realize you should have been saying yes all along.

Ah, well, he’s got you now.

He’s got you for forever.

You slump against him, hips grinding sluggishly against his cock, and Keigo grins, pets over your hair before grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling you in for a kiss.

They way you kiss him back is sloppy, pathetic, messy. But Keigo takes it all, though, and he even groans a little into it, flashes you a sneer when he let’s you pull back to look at him with your stupid, blank little stare and lost smile.

“Oh, we’re gonna have such fun together, princess,” he promises. “Daddy’s going to keep you nice and high, keep you fucked stupid.”

You nod, dumbly, and he knows that you don’t understand a word he just said, is perfectly fine that.

You don’t need to think- as long as you can be his good little bitch, as long as you’re not telling him no anymore.

Keigo kisses your cheek and he shoves you back down to the floor, stands and hauls you up until you’re slumped over the coffee table. You mumble something as he flips the skirt of your sundress up and Keigo ignores it, rubs his cock against your soaked cunt before pushing in.

You whine at the intrusion and Keigo sighs- content, happy, grinning lazily as he sticks his cigarette back between his lips.

You’ll be a good girl for him from now on, he knows, and he’ll treat you real good in return- as long as you’re obedient, as long as you never deny him, as long as you never tell him no again.

#keigo takami x reader #tw noncon #tw eating disorders #tw drug use #rooni's shit

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