#his childhood nickname that he hated but felt comfortable enough to tell me about it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

e-jaegerenthusiast · 3 years ago

Text

lurk~toji fushiguro x reader

(part 2 to u&i bully!megumi)

art by sab_xcvii

I am respectfully looking down. down.

had to down a couple of beers to get through this bro—

all characters are of age.

based on the song ‘lurk’ by the neighbourhood

warnings/tw; smut, cheating?, age gap, rough sex, choking, daddy kink, spitting, size kink, slight dumbificantion, degrading, praise kink, nipple play (both receiving)

summary; what happens when you learn more about megumi? and believe it too.

w.c; 6k

you’d been thinking about megumi all weekend. his face and all the events from the prior day swirling inside your head as you pondered them over and over, trying and hoping to find an apology in midst of all the pants shared between you both. of all the words he said to you.

just a simple apology. an apology to ease your heart, an attempt to clear all the things he put you through. all the times he humiliated you, all the times he embarrassed you and made you feel unimportant, unwanted. that’s all your beating heart wanted from him.

yet he never said those two words. not as he kissed you, not as he led you to the backseat of his charger, not as he slid in your mouth, or not as he fucked into you.

your chest filled with anxiety, he used me. curling up in your comforter as you tried to push away your negative thoughts with the soft music playing in your ears.

that was until your phone gave out a ding. picking it up, the light of it filling your dark, depressing room as you read the text with an unknown contact.

‘hey, bunny’ it read.

you squinted your eyes, where had you heard that nickname before? ah yes. the parking lot. the devil himself.

you groaned, locking your phone and wrapping yourself in your warm duvet again. your phone lit up again with the sound of his text. you blinked a few times as you shook your head and unlocked it again.

‘forgot to tell you’ as you read that, you pressed the contact and saved it as “megs </3”

your heart filled with a sense of hope, the little burnt flame igniting within you again, it died down as soon as it had been planted in you as you read the next text,

‘i got your number from one of your friends’

you sigh, so that’s what he forgot to tell you. not fuckin-

you were brought out of your thoughts as another text popped up

‘hello?’

‘y/n?’

‘did that bitch give me the wrong number?’

you wish you could just type out a lie, saying he got the wrong number, and forget that megumi fushiguro ever existed in your life. sure, maybe it was petty of you to hold a grudge against him for not apologizing even after the sensual acts that took place between you both the day prior. however, it was important to you. you needed to know he actually felt guilty those times. you need to know he felt as shitty as you did on the inside. you needed to know he wasn’t just using you. he technically never said that either, just told you to not say it.

nevertheless, you’re typing away before you can stop yourself. you should have.

‘hey ‘gumi’

‘no you got the right number’

you don’t really know what else to say. waiting patiently as the 3 dots start moving, signaling he’s typing.

‘good.’

‘i’ll pick you up in 30. be ready.’

you glance at the time on your phone, 5:30. you had enough time.

‘okay’

‘see ya cutie’

you get out of your bed quickly. taking a quick shower as the warm water helped you relax. you wear some jean shorts and a tank top with a silver necklace hanging lowly on your neck. you do some light makeup, only a little colorless lipgloss and mascara, as you tie your hair up in a ponytail. a few strands coming loose, not really being bothered to re-do it, you head down the stairs and go outside to sit on the porch, waiting for megumi.

in a couple minutes, his black charger comes to a halt infront of your house, you get up, grabbing your phone and your small purse, sliding it around your neck as you make your way to his car.

he leans to the passenger side and opens the door for you, giving you a smirk as you get in, gaze faltering on your jean shorts as he licks his lips. you give him a small smile, “hi.” your voice is soft as you observe him, the smell of rough lavender fills your nose this time instead of the cedarwood and musk, it seems gone now. his raven hair is damp atop his head, signaling he just came out of the shower.

he leans over and presses a quick kiss to your cheek, his hair brushing your forhead as he pulls away. a blush creeps on to your cheeks, “hey, beautiful.” he smiles as he fixes his gaze on the road and presses the gas pedal.

he puts his hand on your upper thigh, “how are you?” you bite the inside of your cheeks, “fine.” his gaze stops on you for a second before looking back at the road, “you’re lying.” you sigh, trying to come up with an excuse. how could he tell whenever you’re lying? “I uhm.. I just have a bit of a headache.”

he hummed, “if you say so.” he gave you a smile as he squeezed your thigh. you decided to push all your thoughts away for now and only focus on him. you put your hand on his, “where are we going?” he looked at your hand with a smile, “my house.”

your gaze fixed on him, “why not outside?” he looked over to you, “I lost my phone somewhere at the house.. but if you don’t wanna go there I don’t mind. we could just hang outside.” he said with a shrug.

you thought it over for a few seconds, he was offering you a chance to see his house, where he spent most of his childhood in, so if you got the chance to see more of him, you would be a fool to not take it. you gave a soft squeeze to his hand on your thigh, “no, yeah let’s go to your house.”

he smirked as he made a sharp turn into a street, his knuckles flexing on the wheel. this was pretty far from your house, the houses in the neighborhood were all a fair distance away from eachother, each one looking modern and rather large.

he pulled into the parking way of one of the houses, as you looked up from your window, you could see the house was just as big as the others, glass panes covering one whole side of it instead of walls. the parking garage’s door slid up with a press of megumi’s finger on a remote. he parked the car and you both got out. a sudden feeling of anxiety swimming in your chest as you saw the big black ram next to where megumi had parked, was his dad home?

megumi grabbed your hand in his, holding you close and interlocking your fingers as you both made your way up a small flight of stairs. “my dad’s not home, I think he’s at the neighbors’ house, he’s his friend.” you swallowed, your shoulders relaxing as you nodded.

he let go of your hand as he opened a door that led to the huge living room, mostly black and dark grey furniture everywhere, it was calming in a sense. he twirled around with his arms open infront of you, “as you can see the house’s pretty fuckin huge. I hate it— so I’m not gonna give you a tour or anything. but,” you frowned at his words, fidgeting with your fingers. he moved towards you, smiling, “how about you give yourself a tour as you call my phone and try to find it? please? I need it for this one senior assignment I’m getting today.” you nodded slowly as he flashed you a big grin, kissing your cheek before storming off and yelling, “my sister needs my help with something! I’ll be back!”

with that, he left you alone standing in the large empty living room. you sighed, finding his phone seemed to be pretty important to him. you got your phone out of your purse, starting to dial megumi’s number as you wondered around the house. he didn’t seem fond of this house, it was really big though so you thought family members could easily ignore each other for days. that’s probably what megumi would do.

you dialed his number over and over, looking around the vastly sized kitchen, the dining room, and some other rooms downstairs. megumi had left upstairs so you thought that’s probably where the bedrooms are and he had most definitely looked around in there. so you decided to take the stairs that spiraled down instead.

as you made your way down the stairs, a faint sound of the bass of music hit your ears. you followed it down the narrow hallway that was filled with empty white vases and fake plants. the music was getting too loud for it to be a ringtone. it led you to a big white door, you opened it as you stepped inside.

you were met with an even bigger looking room than any of the ones you had seen on the main floor, mirrors were covering all its walls, the music loud as it blasted through the soundproof ceiling, there were lots of equipment and machines, oh. it was a gym. was it bigger than the living room and kitchen combined? probably.

you dialed megumi’s number again, walking around the gym, staring at everything with wide eyes. how fucking rich were they? their own personal gym right under their penthouse, you scoffed at the excessive wealth they had, or his dad had.

you heard a light vibration, going towards it as you could see a faint light on the ground next to a towel, right under the mirrors on the wall, you bent over to pick it up, megumi’s phone. finally.

as you stood back up, your eyes set on a huge, tall body in the mirror standing behind you, before you could even look up to see who it is, you screamed and turned around, jumping back against the mirror, closing your eyes as you brought your hands in front of you offensively, as if you could do any damage with them.

you slowly opened your eyes as you heard a deep chuckle, toji fushiguro stood infront of you. tight workout shorts sticking to his legs, bringing out his huge thighs, a black tank top sat upon his chest, a slight wet ring formed around the front of it as his body was covered in sweat, glistening.

his body was beyond huge, making you look so insignificant standing before him. he ran a veiny hand through his damp hair, bicep flexing as he did so, “done staring, pretty thing?” your mouth went dry, as if you weren’t practically drooling seconds before.

you could hear your heartbeat in your own ears, you were about to fucking black out. and you didn’t know why, his presence was so intimidating, the smell of cedarwood and musk filled the aroma around him, making you dizzy. so that was his smell yesterday in the car.

he towered over you, licking slightly at the scar on his lip, “cat’s got your tongue? or has megumi got a deaf plaything this time?” at the mention of your hearing, you tried to focus on the loud song playing instead of your unsteady heartbeat. the song was a forgein rap, turkish maybe? as it blasted through the gym and bounced off the ceiling.

you cleared your throat slightly, not trusting the power of your voice right now, “I uhm.. no.. I was just looking for fushiguro’s phone, and I uh.. found it here.” you waved the phone in front of your face, trying to show him.

he raises a brow, turning around and moving towards what seems to be a cable crossover machine. he grabs the hem of his black top with one hand, sliding it over his head as he dries the sweat around his neck, leaving the shirt there like a scarf. you stand there, staring at his muscular back. pressing your thighs together, why were you pressing your thighs together? this was megumi’s dad.

megumi’s phone kept buzzing in your hand, you looked at the screen, notifications on notifications showing there, you couldn’t see the texts unless it was unlocked but you could see the contact names, most of them were not saved, the rest being emojis.

“7 notifications from 💥”

“4 notifications from 👅”

“3 notifications from 🧜🏻‍♀️”

you could feel the rage settling in your stomach and all the way to your head, having a tight grip on his phone. the sound of weights bumping into eachother made you jump, looking up at where toji stood in between the machine, his arms working with the cables as his pecs flexed and unflexed.

the man glances at you from the side of his eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat. he keeps opening and closing his arms with the wire, his gaze not leaving you as you practically have a staring contest. he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, opening them as the scar on his lip tugs upwards with his smirk.

he stops moving his arms, making you flinch again with the sound of the weights hitting the metal, you find yourself pulling away your gaze from his crotch. when did you start staring at the bulge in his shorts?

you felt dizzy again as he started walking towards you slowly, his manly perfume filling your nose again. taking the damp black top around his neck and tying it around his forhead, he makes it into a makeshift headband as he pulls his hair back out of his forhead and up. you gasp at the sight, looking down at the ground in as your face starts heating up.

he stops a few inches infront of you, holding his large palm out to you as he motions for you to give him megumi’s phone. the loud forgein rap seems to fade away as his deep voice rings in your ears again, “explosion one’s ‘bitch that sucked him off real good,” he scrolled through megumi’s notifications with his thumb. the big phone looking tiny in his large hands, he held a bored expression on his face as he made your heart clench with each sentence, “tongue one he went down on,” he scoffs and chuckles darkly, “damn brat, the mermaid one must be the girl he fucked in my pool last night and denied of ever doing so when I busted his ass.” he twisted the phone in his hands and held it out to you.

a horrid expression filled your eyes as you kept your gaze on his chest, “oh and you must be the sunset girl, hm?” you looked up at him, tears brimming your eyes, “w-what??” he leaned forward and tucked megumi’s phone in the back pocket of your jean shorts, his big hand covering the majority of the cheek of your ass, making you shiver as your nose was practically in his neck, his musky scent making you dizzy.

as he pulled away, he whispered in your ear in a voice you could only recognize as seductive scary, “you look smarter than to be used by my excuse of a son, doll.” you blinked a few times. trying to register what just happened before quickly getting past him and making your way out of the gym and upstairs.

your head was swarming with thoughts as you sat in the living room, clutching megumi’s phone in your hands. you stared at the spiraling stairs that would lead you up to where he probably was. you were trying to mentally get yourself ready, should you ask him about it? should you even mention it? toji’s voice clouded your brain, he called you megumi’s plaything. was it true? were you just like all the other girls? getting used by him and getting lost between the many ‘emoji’s’?

you took a deep breath, heading upstairs and calling for megumi. his head plopped out of one of the rooms, hair in fluffy spikes as he smiled at you. “did you find it?” you nodded and walked towards him.

giving him his phone, he motioned for you to join him in his bedroom, sitting on his chair in the corner of the room as you sat on his bed in the center, looking at him anxiously as you gripped the bedsheets beneath your palms.

he was focused on his phone, scrolling through something with furrowed brows and an amused expression before he looked at you standing up and grabbing what seemed to be his car keys from his desk.

“hey uhh.. I’m sorry one of my friends is in big trouble, I gotta go but I’ll be back okay? do you wanna stay here until I come back?” he waited for your answer, lightly bouncing his foot as if he couldn’t wait to get out of the room and to wherever he was going.

you felt like you could cry any moment now, you just needed him to go away, to not be here to witness your pathetic tears and emotions. you bit on your bottom lip, should you wait for him? or go home? “uhm, yeah I’ll wait..” you said as his ocean blue eyes stared at you in anticipation, you couldn’t say no to them.

a wide smile came onto his face, giving you a salute and a small “thank you” before he hurried out of the room, getting downstairs with fast steps that you could hear.

you took a deep breath, falling back down on his bed, it smelled like him, like lavender. god what where you doing? your eyes felt heavy like your heart, why did you give him a chance to slither his way into you heart? he was supposed to stay your bully.

before you knew it, you fell asleep on his bed, your brain too swarmed by your thoughts that you wanted to just push away. you felt like you were half asleep, still being aware of your surroundings.

you opened your eyes to a vibration, it was your phone in your hands, you looked at the time, it had been almost an hour since you laid on his bed, not even aware if you were fully asleep or not.

you sighed, getting off his bed and out of his room, you looked around for a bathroom, finding it not too far from megumi’s room, in the same hallway a few steps down.

when you came out, you turned around only to bump into a chest, looking up, you covered your mouth with your hands, “I’m sorry! uhm...” it was megumi’s dad, he had a grin on his face, his hair damp atop his head, his chest bare, and a towel hanging around his torso.

he gave you a look up and down, “you’re good, where’s megumi?” he waited for your answer, but saw you fidgeting with your fingers and pouting, “he left you didn’t he?” you nodded weakly.

he brought his hand to his own chin, rubbing at it as he seemed to be deep in thought of something, then his gaze caught yours, your eyes dilating as a devilish grin made its way accross his lips.

before you could blink, your back was pressed against the wall of the hallway, his large hand around your throat as he towered over you. leaning his face close to yours as your eyes fluttered with his minty breath in your face, “then how about,” he tightened his grip on your throat, making you choke on a breath as he continued, “we get some revenge on him, yeah?”

you were speechless, this all felt like a fever dream. that’s it, maybe you hadn’t even woken up yet, maybe you were still sleeping soundly in megumi’s room. but the wetness pooling between your legs as he parted them with his knee said otherwise.

he smashed his lips onto yours, kissing you at a slow pace until your small hands were grabbing at his chest, pushing him away to look up into his dark eyes, “t-this is wrong— what are we—“

he sighed, “your little boyfriend is out fucking someone else right now, please don’t tell me your little teenage heart is in love with him or some bullshit.” he was right. you were nothing to megumi, you never had been. so why shouldn’t you act like he was nothing to you?

his eyes were searching your face, his brows scrunched together. you grabbed a fist full of the back of his hair and brought his lips down to yours, you could feel his smirk against your lips before he started to kiss you back again, this time rougher.

his tongue pushed against your lips, and you opened your mouth for him, letting him taste you. the smell of musk was all around you, making you dizzy as you grabbed at his hair. the kiss was a sloppy mess, his tongue dominating yours and biting at your bottom lip as he pulled back.

he pressed his bulge against your center, making you let out a small whimper as you looked up at him with doe eyes. he leaned in again, but this time his lips went to your neck, his tongue pressing against your pulse point as the beat of your heart got faster and faster. you could feel him sucking and nibbling on the skin of your neck, leaving trails of crimson and rosemary all over your collarbone as you shuddered and small pants left your mouth.

his large hands were pressing into both sides of your hip, the towel around his torso shuffling as he practically grinded your clothed center onto it. on of your hands was laced through his hair, grip tightening as his mouth traveled down to your chest, pressing wet kisses right above your boobs that were still covered by the material of your shirt. your other hand held onto the large muscle of his bare bicep tightly, crescents forming from your nails as he bit the hard bud of your nipple from above your shirt.

your hand on his bicep traveled to his chest hesitantly, so hesitant that when your fingers accidentally brushed against his left nipple, he hissed, a shudder running down his spine and pulling back from where he was marking you up. you studied the loon on his face closely, his eyes were filled with lust, looking you up and down as he towered over your small form.

you looked back at the hand that was resting on his pec, his nipple hard right between your index and middle finger. you took a deep breath, slowly moving forward towards his chest, he watched you as you pressed a kiss to his nipple, his arm twitching from on the wall, the fingers from his other hand tightening around the flesh of your tiny hip. he wanted to stop you, let you know who’s in charge, but he decided to wait, wanting to know what you’re up to.

you pressed another kiss to the bud, only this time, your tongue pressed against it as you pulled away, earning a grunt from him. you stuck out your tongue circling his nipple in slow movements as your other hand trailed down his defined stomach, grabbing onto the self-made knot of his towel as you attempted to pull him closer than he already was.

the way your tongue was swirling around his nipple as you sucked slowly, kissing it after each nibble had him weak. he was god awful thankful that you couldn’t see his face right now, because his expression was not him. his face was burried in your neck, the tip of his nose a light pink that dusted his defined cheekbones too. his eyes were scrunched shut, his nose upwards as his mouth was agape, small pants and broken breaths leaving his pretty lips.

when you finally got the knot of his towel free, the white material going loose around his torso, you bit down on his nipple gently. that was his breaking point, the rope that finally snapped. hearing a deep growl from him, you could feel large hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you up so you were flush against him, both your legs locked around his waist and your hands tight around his neck as you hid your face in between his two large pecs.

you were so lost in the strong smell of the shampoo previously used on his chest that you only felt his girth in between your legs when he started walking you both down the hallway. your eyes widened, looking down in between you and at the generous amount of manhood he had to give you with a gasp. you were dumbfounded, stuttering over your words as you tried to form a sentence, he was walking you both somewhere, a deep chuckle vibrating from his chest as you pressed your head to it again.

“ssshh don’t worry about that, doll.” he said, rubbing circles onto the flesh of your ass with his thumb. you pulled your head back from his chest as you felt his hands shuffle, throwing you onto a bed as you bounced a few times, your hair fanning around you as you closed your eyes, trying to prepare yourself for whatever is to come.

your eyes opened wide as your nose picked up the now familiar scent of lavender, looking around you in a haste, you were on megumi’s bed.

you looked forward, the sentence you wanted to scream at toji dying down on your tongue when you saw him crawling towards you with a malicious grin, the veins in his large biceps flexing with every moment, his cock standing upright under his stomach, the tip red and angry as precum dribbled onto the lavender-smelling sheets below you both.

his large form is above you, hands on either side of your head as he leans down again, grabbing at your shirt in an animalistic manner, you thought he was gonna tug it over your head, closing your eyes. you opened them back up when you heard a loud shredding sound. he had ripped your top to pieces, the fabric ripping in two beside you as your naked chest was exposed to him.

he raise his brows, the side of his mouth where his scar resided rising up into a half-smirk, “no bra? fucking dirty.” he grabbed one of your boobs, rolling your nipple in between his fingers as he took the other one his mouth, humming around it as his long eyelashes fluttered against his cheek, his gaze coming back to stare you in the eyes as you watched him. “were you prepared to get fucked by him again?” he said in between pressing his tongue against your nipple, earning small pants and whimpers from you.

“didn’t expect to be splayed out like this under his dad instead did you now?” his voice was deep, he sucked on your nipple repeatedly, making sure to give the other one the same attention as he rolled the other bud in between his large fingers. you moaned out loud when you felt his sharp teeth biting into your chest, “speak when you’re fucking spoken to.” he said as he landed a slap on your other boob, you whimpered, nodding your head “y-yes— I mean— n-no I didn’t—“

he gave out a dark chuckle, his hot breaths driving you crazy as he switched between your boobs, sucking and biting on the other one as he held them both in his hands, “haven’t even fucked you, yet you’re all dumb under me already.” he said with another chuckle as he hummed around your nipple.

he came back up to your lips, his huge cock pressing into your clothed center. you felt his fingers wrap around your throat, rising your head slightly from the pillow and bringing your face closer to his, your nose touching his, his gaze feral as it pierced you, his lips inches away from you as you could feel his hot breath over your lips.

he gave you a passionate kiss, his tongue diving into your mouth before he pulled away, your lips following him to get more, but he only chuckled darkly again, looking down at where his cock was practically twitching against you. “you gonna take your slutty fucking shorts off? or should I rip them as well huh?” you shakes your head rapidly, “n-no.” you squealed.

he raised his brows, his gaze moving between your eyes and your lips, his hand tightening around your throat, “no, who?” he nearly growled out. you squeezed your eyes together, breath catching in your throat as you whine out “n-no… daddy.” he smirked, giving a single smooch to your parted lips before loosening his hand around your throat, “atta girl, now c’mon, do as you’re told and I’ll play nice on you ‘kay?”

your hands were shaky as you lifted your hips, sliding your shorts down halfway to your knees, struggling to get out of them under his dark gaze. he groaned, rolling his eyes as his hands replaced yours, tugging the shorts down fully and throwing them somewhere on the floor.

he looked down at you, licking his lips. a wet patch had formed on your panties, his large hands coming to your hips, grabbing onto the waistband of your underwear before he groaned again, “too much fuckin work.” you heard another ripping sound, he had tore your underwear too, disregarding the pieces that remained on the bed as he ran his fingers along your inner thigh, his eyes coming back up to your face to watch your every expression.

“oops.” he muttered, snickering at you, before his face turned into one of— concern? your lips were trembling, tears prickling your eyes as you tried to blink them away. he moved up again, his hand coming up to hold your face in his palm, his thumb wiping at your wet lashes. “what is it, doll? are you scared?”

you sniffed, shaking your head grabbing his other wrist in your small hands, shakily bringing it to your lower stomach. he smiled, humming, “you want me touch you? take real good care of you?” his fingers inched closer to your clit, but still not touching, only grazing the upper part of your pussy.

you nodded, “uhh huh— p-please, fushiguro.” he chuckled again, the sound becoming familiar to your ears as you wanted to hear it more and more. “please??” he said in a teasing tone, his voice dropping a few octaves down if that was even possible.

“p-please toji—“ he laughed, the noise making your cunt flutter around nothing. “wrong answer, doll.” he slapped your clit, the action catching you off gaurd, making you let out a choked whimper. his hand still on your cheek, going down to grip your jaw as he hummed quizzically. “please, daddy.”

“mhhmm,” you felt his palm graze your clit as one of his thick middlefinger fingers entered you, your back arching and hips bucking up towards his hands as you moaned. “there you go, right there?” the pad of his finger pressed against the perfect spot inside of you, your thighs shaking around him as you nodded and moaned, his chuckles feeling your ears again.

your hips were bucking up against him in a circular motion, your walls tightening around his single finger as you felt the knot in your stomach begin to unwind, right then and there, he pulled his finger out of you, snickering as you whined. you looked down at him, his finger that was in you seconds ago now in his mouth as he hummed around it, “you taste so sweet, doll.”

he leaned down, taking his large cock in his hand, stroking the base a few times before lining it up right at your entrance, he was on his knees, looking down at you with a raised brow, “I’d ask you if you’re a virgin but,” your eyes widened as you felt his head move into you, your hands gripping the sheets and your knuckles growing white as you whimpered. “you’re a naughty little— fuck— slut. but still tight.”

your walls fluttered around him repeatedly as he tried to fit in more of his cock, stretching you open almost painfully, but god the stretch felt amazing. you felt like you could rip the sheets any moment now with the grip you had on them, you could barely keep your eyes open, nuzzling your head into your own neck and whimpering.

until you felt his fingers wrap around your throat again, looking at him as your mouth hung open, soundless breaths leaving your mouth and onto his face as he smirked, his cock was spreading you open so wide, you could feel every vein, every ridge of it brushing against your tight walls, and eventually his big balls tapping at your ass when he bottomed out.

he stilled inside of you, letting you let out your choked breaths until your hips were rutting against him, he groaned, “I’m trying to be nice here, give you time to get used to it, and you go and grind against me while I’m balls-deep inside of your tight little cunt?” your eyes rolled back as he gave you his first thrust, hard and unrelenting. making your tits jiggle up and back down again, your hands going to his wrist that is around your throat.

you hold his lower arm with one of your small hands, and the other around his wrist, pressing down on your throat until a squeak comes out your mouth, his cock twitches inside of you, and you clench around him as he gives you another hard thrust, “want me to choke you? you’re dirty like that?” his fingers tighten around your neck, and your around his arm and wrist.

his thrusts are hard, fucking into you with all the power in his hips and pulling out agonizingly slow, just to ram back in again. you moan out and let out incoherent babbles, he hums quizzically, and you lol your tongue out, his thrusts slow for a few seconds, chuckling darkly. he spits in your mouth, right on your tongue, and you can feel his thrusts speed up again as he grunts out “swallow then.”

and you do, you take all that he gives you, your cunt flutters around him again, your orgasm close as you claw at his large biceps, whimpering and moaning out, “f-faster, please daddy.” he groans, taking both his arms and balancing himself on top of you, but closer.

his hips move faster, not hard and agonizing anymore, but he listens to you. the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room and mixes with the ragged breaths coming out of his mouth, and then loud moans you’re giving out, your hands go to his hair as you feel the knot in your stomach snap, scratching at his scalp and pulling at the back of his hair.

he moans, the sound cutting short as he presses his lips to yours, it’s messy, just a wet battle of tongues as you both swallow eachother’s sounds. a string of saliva connecting you both as your pussy gushes all around him, cumming with a scream and another pull on the raven strands of his hair.

he keeps giving you sloppy thrusts, helping you ride through your orgasm, “fuck— yeah, cum on daddy’s cock baby, just like that.” his voice is shaky, the words coming out between broken breaths and grunts. he gives you one last thrust, making your whole body shudder as he fills you up, his warm cum painting your insides, as he moans repeatedly, his brows scrunched and his forhead resting in the crook of your neck as he tries to calm himself.

he lays on top of you for a while, but slowly pulls away as you start groaning, his body weight crushing you. with a chuckle, he pulls out, and it’s the most beautiful sight you’ve seen. he’s on his knees between your legs, holding the base of his own cock as he pulls out slowly, one side of his hair is in the air, messy around his head and beads of sweat decorate his chest.

you whine out at the feeling of being so empty, and he snickers, shaking his head and leaving the room before you notice. did he just leave you? you lay on the bed, and try to get up before his cum can stain megumi’s sheets. your legs are shaking as you try to make it to the bathroom, your lower stomach burning with an unfamiliar pain, you had never taken a dick this big before.

you washed up, getting out the bathroom with shaky legs, holding the wall for support. until you bumped into a chest, again. you looked up, he looked the same as when he left the room, “you really need to stop doing that doll. unless you want me to destroy your cunt.” toji says with a smirk, making your cheeks heat up.

“why did you get up?” he asks with a raise of his brows. you struggle to stand, your knee buckling as his gaze goes down to your trembling legs, chuckling as he has you in his arms in the blink of an eye, carrying you back to megumi’s room. “you can’t even walk now can you?” he says teasingly. and you huff, furrowing your brows as he sits you back on the bed.

“I went to bring you a shirt. since ya know-“ you look up at him, your eyes sparkling as he holds a black shirt in his hands, giving you a smile, “arms up.” you obey, putting both your arms up, waiting for him to put his shirt on you. he licks his lips, grinning as he gives out a chuckle, looking at you tits being stretched up with your hands, you didn’t even notice. you squeak, putting your arms back down and on your chest, trying to cover them as he chuckles again, his green eyes hooded and dark as he watches you, “hiding them from me as if— how adorable.” he shook his head.

he threw you his shirt, “go on, megs will be here soon.” you wear the shirt, the fabric big on you, the musky smell filling your senses again. you couldn’t face megumi now, not in his dad’s shirt.

toji chuckles, moving his hand through his hair as he clicks his tongue, “don’t think he can see you like this can he? or would you want that?”

your cheeks grow red, and you nibble on your bottom lip as you shake your head.

he sighs, “come down to the garage after you put your pants on. or don’t, that’s even better.” he leaves the room with a chuckle.

what did you just do?

•••••••••••••••••••

taglist? @medusa1111 (@itadaklmasu cuz your reply said part 2 heh) @emilykcoxx @calamariie (cuz you guy replied to part 1, hope you like this too <3)

#toji fushiguro #toji smut #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji #toji jjk #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro toji #megumi jjk

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helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! Um hopefully this is ok but can you do a platonic poly relationship with tech reader and philza? And one day the reader comes over to there abode with a basket full of sweets and pastries (muffins bread ect-) also cottagecore quiet reader please she/they pronouns

Thank you! :D

(A/N): I’m back yall! Sorry I’ve been gone (in terms of writing/request doing) for so long, I just kinda lost motivation to write for a bit

Ok so you’re childhood best friends with Technoblade

You two met when you accidentally bumped into each other in the village by the sbi fam’s house

You were calmly along the cobblestone path when a cute dress in a store window caught your eye. You kept walking, but you were eyeing the dress as you walked by it. It was just your aesthetic: a vintage ruby red dress with laces tying the two sides together, a floused opening to the bottom of the dress, and puffy white sleeves. It looked like it was in your size too. It was absolutely perfect.

Just as you were about to walk into the store to check out the price, you bumped into someone and fell to the ground behind you. Looking up, you saw that the person that you bumped into was also on the ground looking at you. You saw that the boy was about your age with fair skin and long pastel pink hair tied into a messy ponytail. Peculiarly, he had small tusks poking out from his bottom lip, floppy pig ears on the top of his head, and crimson eyes. A piglin hybrid perhaps?

Feeling a small blush work it’s way onto your face, you quickly got up and held out a hand to the boy. “I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going! Are you okay? Here, let me help you up.”

He looked at your hand for a bit before he grabbed it with his own and allowed you to haul him up to his feet. You looked him up and down scanning him for any injuries he might’ve gotten from the fall. Luckily, it didn’t look like he got hurt. The boy looked down at his feet and bent over to pick up the picnic basket and the few muffins that dropped out of it. Putting the muffins back in, he handed the basket back to you with a small smile and a blush of his own.

“It’s really no problem, I’m fine so it’s no harm done. Actually,” he chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck, “I wasn’t looking where I was going either. I got distracted by that sword in the window.” He pointed with a thumb over his shoulder at the armory shop next to the dress shop. In the window was a shining golden sword glimmering in the bright sunlight. If you squinted, you could see a sign that said that it had a high level fire aspect and looting enchantments.

“Well, it looks really pretty. I don’t know much about swords, so maybe you could tell me about them? I’m (y/n),” you gave him a small smile and stuck out your hand once more. He shook it with a grin, “Technoblade.”

That was the start of a beautiful friendship with him and his family

You met Philza, his father

The avian was extremely excited and happy that his quietest son finally made a new friend

He treated you like you were his own daughter

You might as well be a part of the family with how much you came over to babysit Tommy or to just relax with Techno

You always bring over a basket of baked treats/pastries whenever you came over

Lemme just say, the family feasted and always fought over the last one

When you started to come over at least once a day for a bit with a basket full of sweets, Philza had to pull you aside and ask you to slow down a bit with the treats

“Hey (y/n) could I actually talk to you for a second?”

“Sure! Tech, I’ll be out in a sec.” The piglin hybrid curtly nodded and walked out the back door to the backyard. You smiled at Philza before you set the basket down onto the table and started to put the rolls onto a plate.

“I know it’s not much today, I didn’t have much time yesterday to bake.”

“That’s fine, but it’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” Internally, you began to panic slightly. Oh Ender, you didn’t do anything bad did you? You couldn’t think of anything you did wrong. In fact, you actively avoided any wrongdoing or talking to strangers. Oh no, were you accidentally rude to someone?

“You aren’t in trouble,” he smiled lightly when he saw you slump in relief, “I was just wondering why you always bring over baked things. Don’t get me wrong, they’re delicious and we really appreciate that you take the time to make us things, but we kinda have a little too much. Maybe slow down a bit with bringing them over?”

You felt an embarrassed blush spread across your face as you nodded and put all your focus into transferring the bread rolls over to the plate. “Sorry Phil, I just bake whenever I’m stressed or bored and I just have a lot left over after I give some to my family.”

“And that’s completely valid! Just maybe don’t bring over so much, breaking up the fights with Tommy, Wil, and Tech just gets a bit much at times,” he grinned and clapped a hand over your shoulder.

As the years passed, you and Techno only grew closer

You taught Techno how to do meticulous neat braids in his hair while in turn he taught you some self defense

Mans makes sure you can properly and efficiently wield a sword and shoot a bow and arrow

Poor guy can’t lose another friend

When he moves to the tundra, he invites you to live with him but you reluctantly refuse

You had Tommy and Wilbur to look after in L’manberg

Being pissed at Schlatt when he exiles them

Following them into exile leaving behind shocked Manbergians

They didn’t think you were capable of the screaming, let alone such profanity

Practically launching yourself at Techno when he agrees to helping Pogtopia

Him making sure that the withers don’t harm you, even going as far as hitting them and luring them away from you

Staying with Techno after L’manberg is reinstated under Tubbo’s rule

Starting to dislike leadership and governments in general after Tommy gets exiled (again)

Convincing Technoblade to let Tommy stay with you two

Absolutely hating governments when the Butcher Army places Philza under house arrest and rolls up to your guys’ house and takes Techno and Carl

They lock you in the house, but you pick the lock with the bobby pin you kept the bandana pinned to your hair with

You follow them to L’manberg and break down when you see the anvils crashing down onto Techno

Screaming profanities at the Butcher Army and taking out your sword to attack them not noticing when Techno runs away safely

Philza watching everything from the balcony and cheering you on

You almost take away one of Fundy’s (whom you considered to be your nephew until the whole Butcher Army incident) lives before you feel a sword slice your arm and an arrow shooting its way through your thigh

Turning, you gave Tubbo and Ranboo the fiercest glare you could as you were standing over a half-dead Fundy with a sword dripping blood hanging at your side

You, the soft spoken and sweet one that gave everybody baked goods wherever you went, screaming profanities at the festival and the execution was scary enough, but this?

Absolute nightmare fuel, gonna stick in their minds for a long time

You attempt to fight them but you lose and end up with injuries too severe for you to continue fighting

Philza being the one to yell at you to go home to the tundra telling you that Techno’s alive bc of a totem of undying

You felt kinda stupid after that, Technoblade never dies (you often half joked that he was immortal like Philza)

You limp home and get met with a bone crushing uncharacteristic hug from Techno

He patches you up after reassuring you that the blood on him wasn’t his (he tells you about the duel in great detail)

In turn you tell him about your 3 v 1 duel, feeling a bit dejected bc you ended up losing

Him being literally so proud of you for facing 3 people at once, but also scolding you slightly for going into it blindly

When Philza moves in, everything feels complete and fulfilled (at least to you)

You help Philza clean and dress his damaged wing

Also helping him do some physical therapy so that he could at least move it

Comforting him whenever he felt down about not being able to fly again

You invite him and Techno to cook with you and it surprisingly ends up better than you expected it to be

When Tommy betrays Techno, you and Philza end up being the only ones he could fully trust (later slowly adding Niki and Ranboo to the mix when The Syndicate is formed)

You are Harpocrates when The Syndicate is formed due to your quiet nature

Philza and Techno fully 100% supporting your decision of not wanting to reveal your identity

At the second meeting you show up with a full mask covering your face and the opposite of what you normally wore (more of a grunge type beat)

Only communicating in nods and writing at meetings, living up to your nickname

You never reveal your identity to Niki or Ranboo

Pleasant late night conversations around the fire with hot chocolate and your baked goods

Techno still lets you braid his hair (sometimes you even put flowers in it) from time to time

You braid Philza’s hair when it gets too long

Braid chains when yall get too bored? Hell yeah

Ultimately, you three become a strong family unit (goals)

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx @roxy3457 @montygator17 @feverish-dove @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @jichuuchaeng @404rynnotfound @luluwinchester @laura--444 @the-cult-classic-bitch @youngstarfishdinosaur

#sbi x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader #requests #hellion's requests #1k special #hellion's 1k special #tw: blood #tw: injury #tw: violence #tw: near death

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roscgcld · 4 years ago

Text

HEADCANONS + GOJO SATORU || onii-chan

note: this was a few ideas given to me by my beloved 🌸Anon - a bunch of new gojotwins!au headcanons c: this one is a little different compared to my other story, so this is a stand alone one. might turn it into a series if it gets enough love, but we’ll see~ you can read the original ask here!

pronouns: she/her

note: mentions of blood and death and spoilers for volume 8 & 9 of the manga. SUPER LONG by the way lol

gojotwins!au masterlist

twins have always been viewed as a bad omen for the parents - there are high chances of both twins developing no Cursed Technique at all, or have a Cursed Technique that is not desirable. So there had been no hope when one of the wives from the main family of the gojo clan was pregnant, and from what they can tell with twins at that

so it was a huge surprise to not only the elders but the entire jujutsu world when not one, but both of the twins were born with the coveted Six Eyes - something that had never happened in the history of the gojo clan. it was a moment to be celebrated!

if only they knew just what was lies ahead

much to the delight of the elders, the older one of the twins was the boy, satoru, while the girl was born 20 minutes after - it wouldn’t have mattered if it was the other way around, but just having the young boy being the one born first was definitely the icing on the cake

both of you were an absolute headache to deal with, causing so much chaos and mayhem that the elders had wondered if they should have celebrated at the idea of having two Six Eyes users under the same house was a good thing

the both of you trained together throughout your younger years, with satoru becoming super overprotective even though you were twins - he understood from a young age that the both of you were starting at different levels of footing because of your gender

yes, you are a girl - but at 7 years old you had exorcise a Grade-Two Curse by yourself with no more than an annoyed click of your tongue and a snap of your fingers, walking away whilst whining about how it got your favourite dress dirty

with that being said though, he loves to tease you are still the younger one between the both of you, and had teased you about how you should refer to him as ‘onii-chan’ instead of his first name

“come on, Y/N~ it’s a sign of respect~”

“i am going to spend you to outer space one of these days.”

the two of you were already known about the jujutsu world way before you even became old enough to enroll in Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College - you two were even allowed to enter without an interview with the then principal of the school

who would want to waste their time interviewing two highly over qualified teenagers anyway?

the first time you met geto and shoko, they were both intimidated by your sheer presence. the both of them have heard talks about the gojo twins entering their year as a pair

so when they had first met you, standing there in your uniform with your bright blue eyes hiding behind a pair of blacked out sunglasses and an indifferent look on your face - they definitely felt a shiver go through their bodies

however, when they saw your twin brother appearing behind you with the biggest grin, hugging you from behind whilst you scowled and tried to push his head away - they were definitely less intimidated now

“now, now, Y/N-chan, stop being so scary~”

“nii-chan, i am giving you three seconds to let go of me.”

the two of you quite the duo, especially when you two are always pinned against one another with more difficult and more challenging missions compared to when you were under the care of the gojo clan

geto felt less pressure to match up to his friend, since satoru and Y/N are always at each other’s throat - wanting to outmatch the other and one up the other with silly things like Curse head counts and how difficult its level is

with that being said, satoru is very protective of you - if any so much as speaks poorly of you, he would not hesitate to put them in their place

“oya? what makes you think you can speak of my baby sister like that?” satoru had hummed towards the small group of men, who were commenting on how beautiful the young woman was followed by a lot of unsavoury comments.

satoru still sported his casual smile, yet there was a certain air around him that made them shut their mouths up real fast. “mind repeating that? just want to make sure that i have a good enough reason to put your lazy asses six feet underground..”

after that specific incident by the way, satoru had you and your friends out on a little excursion around tokyo - where they just did a bunch of stupid things together to calm down

you can read him like the back of a book though, so when both of your friends went away to browse through some shelves in a video game store, you just wrapped your arms around your brother with a smile. “you know, nii-chan, you don’t need to go about protect my honour. i’m a big girl now.”

he’d just blink down at you before giving you a soft but genuine smile, petting the top of your head with one of his hand while the other was resting inside of his pocket. “if i don’t protect you, who am i going to protect?”

that statement was proven during your second year - a cursed user had overpowered you and shoko and had taken the both of you hostage. the curse user had practically beaten you into a pulp, knowing that you were the stronger one between the two

shoko had been tied up and beaten as well, but you were definitely taking the brunt of his anger - along with being forced to listen about how he was going to sell you to some low life family that had been trying to get you to marry their sorry excuse of a son.

you don’t even remember meeting the father of the boy, who had claimed to visit the gojo clan home a few times now

“you gonna be a good girl for me?” the man had gripped as he gripped your hair in his hands, giving you a smirk whilst you scowled over at him in annoyance, blinking the blood out of your eyes from the wound on the top of your head.

before you can give another snarky answer in reply that will get you another beating, the sound of someone kicking the door in. before either one of you can move, the man suddenly let go of your hair with a pained gasp as someone grabbed his hair and forced his head back, looking up into a pair of glowing blue eyes

“get your filthy hands off my baby sister.”

geto was in charge of taking care of the both of you, leaving the room with a simple reminder to satoru that they needed to bring the man back alive

both of you spending most of your time trying to unlock the many secrets of the Limitless, and how to control it better

during the entire star plasma vessel fiasco, you had stayed by geto’s side. and while you didn’t manage to save rika from being murdered, you had, like gojo, managed to touch the core of cursed energy

toji had ‘killed you’ before he went after geto, yet like satoru, he did not decapitate your head; so you had slowly started to use the reverse curse technique to heal your wounds

so you couldn’t believe satoru’s belief when he found you using reverse cursed technique to heal geto, wrapping you up in his arms while you just smile and hold him as well

the three of you plus shoko had turned to one another for comfort, because along the way you four have grown close to the young girl, and her death really affected all of you

but if there is something bright that came out from this, is that you and your brother had really elevated yourselves to become the strongest duo of the new generation - both pretty much an entire chest above the current active sorcerers

after satoru had calmed down, he had told you about what toji had said to him before his death - about how he has a son that he had planned to sell of to the zen’ins

the two of you went to visit the young boy, discovering that he had an older sister as well; and without hesitation you had taken the both of them under your wing, pulling a few strings behind the scenes while also trying to provide him with as normal as a life as you two could

megumi had viewed you as a mother figure, someone who looked out for him and tsumiki, teaching the two of them life skills like sewing and cooking, making sure they always have warm meals.

you never miss their birthdays either - always making sure to get them either a cake or a small cupcake with a candle on the top to blow out just for the sake of tradition

sure, satoru loves to spoil them too, but he acted more like their chilled older brother - he definitely relies on you more as a parental figure he had lacked for quite a huge part of his childhood

he had remembered how once, when you had made him his favourite curry and rice after a long week, he just sighed and said, “thanks mum,” before he started to eat his meal

at first you froze in shock, and megumi did too - but before the blushing teen can apologise, you had already wrapped him up in your arms as you just cried your heart out

satoru had teasingly asked him if megumi can call him ‘dad’, to which megumi just scowled and sent his divine dogs after your brother

satoru loves to introduce you two as the ‘strongest duo’ by the way - which makes you super awkward and you hate it with a passion. he wasn’t wrong, but it’s still awkward

“we’re the Gojos - the strongest duo out there.”

“please stop calling us that.”

feel like because you’re there, geto might still be on the path to the light lmao - like mans will be a teacher in school and you three will be dub the ‘idiot trinity’ or some bullshit nickname lol - the three biggest troublemakers in the jujutsu world

yet the three most capable ones as well - absolutely drive the higher ups of the jujutsu world insane

with that being said though - the three of you definitely hashed a plan to change the jujutsu world together. even shoko agrees that there should be some change to the old ways of the jujutsu world; so the four of you decided to sign up to work as teachers at Jujutsu High

the first group of students you took under your wing was the then first years - maki, toge, panda, and eventually yuta when he joined your little class

you are the mother for the students while geto is the responsible dad; satoru is the crazy uncle that is not allowed to supervise the students alone, and shoko is the cool aunt who lets you skip class in her office if you want

all the students have, at one point, just referred to you as ‘mum’ and you had always just accepted that with a soft smile and a pat on the top of their head

even if they are taller than you, they will willingly bend down to your height so you can pet them on the head - even megumi lets you get away with it

when itadori and nobara came into the picture, you had taken them un as your own as well - but you did spend a good 5 minutes laughing with geto at the idea that yuji manages to control sukuna like he is just an annoying imaginary friend in the back of his head that refuses to shut up

you had tried to give them some form of normality and comforts as teenagers, even if many times they were forced into very uncomfortable situations

all in all - it was utter chaos the moment both you and satoru were born. yet it was a miracle nonetheless. many times you prove to the world that your bond is stronger than people think it is, and that you two will go through anything to make sure the other is safe.

you are the younger one, but the more responsible one too. the motherly figure that everyone turned to, even your friends and brother, who needs comfort and a warm meal. yet if provoked, you can become deadly and kill with no hesitation. it’s because of this, both you and your brother are considered as quite the deadly duo; the strongest ones around.

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wizkiddx · 4 years ago

Text

supercluster

this is my entry for @hollandsrecs 'toms birthday fanfic fest' event - go check it out!!! I know its a early but im v bored so have it now. also im acc kinda really proud of this one, any feedback would be v appreciated 🤍

the prompt was: 'you and tom are best friends and you tell him that you love him on his birthday'

summary: its toms birthday but he has a few things to get off his chest and into the night sky, y/n joins in with a bit of a revelation too

best friends -> lovers

warnings: mentions of alcohol, bit angsty but promise ends all fluffy and a shit tonne of dialogue

wc: 3.5k ishhh

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Everything got a little too wild and stuffy in the living area, Haz and Harry screaming sweet caroline, whilst Greg (Tom’s stunt man) was pouring *another* round of shots. The sweatiness and clamminess of the room meant Y/n took a moment to escape, sliding out the double doors, and closing them softly behind her to ensure no one would notice her little escape. Something about the midnight air, the slightly dewy smell of the neighbouring fields, felt like it was refreshing Y/n from the inside out. When she turned around, back facing the fancy rented house, she was slightly shocked by Tom standing in the garden. It was his birthday party after all. In all honesty, Y/n felt a bit guilty she hadn’t noticed he wasn’t in the thick of it with his brothers and castmates.

His silhouette was set against the clear night sky, the stars extra prominent this evening and the moon casting a soft glow off the left side of his face, exaggerating the natural contours of his jawline and cheekbones. Clearly, he was enraptured by the sky, staring up at it with a thoughtful look on his face.

And Y/n recognised that look instantly; she knew what he was doing.

In fact, he had taught her to do precisely the same thing. As kids, the Hollands, Y/n’s family and another two families from the local area all went camping together. It was an annual event, ‘the Kingston collective camping adventure’ as Dom had named it. Y/n couldn’t remember a year when they hadn’t gone actually - it was that much of a tradition.

One year, though, when she and Tom were about 9, her mothers’ due date coincided with the camping dates. So, sensibly, the decision had been made that Y/n and her brother would just be looked after by the Hollands - whilst her mum and dad were safely tucked up in bed at home, awaiting the arrival of her littlest brother.

Y/n, her brother Alex, and Tom were all sharing a tent, and it must’ve been at least midnight that Tom was awoken by shuffling and zipping up of the tent. He’d realised she was gone through sleepy eyes and, without a second thought, went to go find her. Sure enough, she wasn’t far away, not even 50 metres from the tent, crouched on the grass. Immediately Tom’s presence had been noticed, making Y/m quickly snivel and wipe her face.

“Are you upset?”

“Go away Tom.” The comment didn’t do a lot, though; instead, 9-year-old Tom had planted himself down next to her - his pyjamas getting wet on the moist grass floor.

“Are you missing Auntie Sarah and Uncle Mike?” In the same way that Y/n called Nikki and Dom auntie and uncle, the Holland boys mirrored the nicknames for her parents. Y/n replied with a long sigh before hiccuping, failing to control the stream of tears. Yes, he was right - this was her first night away from her parents- but she wasn't about to spill her heart out to the 'stupid boy' who had stolen one of her marshmallows that evening. Tom’s little brown eyes swelled, looking slightly terrified and out of his depth, whilst with all his 9 years of wisdom, trying to come up with an answer.

“Do you want to play football to forget about it?”

Unsurprisingly Y/n shook her head violently. Tom cursed inwardly at himself for saying the wrong thing, apparently football wasn't the answer to everything. The two children went back to silence until Tom had the metaphorical light bulb moment. “My mum told me something for when I got to sleepovers? Look!” He grabbed Y/n’s little hand, extending it upwards towards the night sky.

“No matter where you are, you’re all looking at the same stars too, right?”

Tom jumped a little before looking over his shoulder and recognising Y/n with the softest smile that grew across his face. Y/n slowly walked to his side, arms crossed over her chest to try and keep the cold at bay, joining Tom in staring up at the starry expanse.

“How do you always know?” Tom spoke in a breathy chuckle, shaking his head slightly. It was true, she did always know - but his question was somewhat irrelevant. They'd spent most their childhood together, they were as easy to read as a children’s book to each other.

“Missing home?”

“Sort of, I got my own slice of home with the boys and-and you but… pads, mum dad yeh, feel like on your birthday your always supposed to see your family.”

Although Harry, Harrison, Sam and Y/n had managed to fly out to surprise Tom on his birthday- prior commitments meant his parents and youngest brother hadn’t been able to make it. They four arrived yesterday, greeted by a very shocked and pretty emotional Tom - who had clearly been missing the sense of home somewhat. He’d been away shooting a film, then straight away launching into press for the next spiderman movie. It had been a long while since he’d been in London - half a year in fact.

This time too, he’d been away without a single family member or friend - that was another truth he’d learnt about growing up. Your friends and family, they all get lives of their own. Tom used to be a trailblazer, the first to get a job, the one everyone was super proud of. They still were, of course, but didn’t dote on him in quite the same way - everyone had their own shit to deal with. It was yet another reason Tom wasn’t welcoming his birthday as much as he usually would.

“Your parents did always spoil you rotten.”

“They spoilt you worst and you’re not technically their kid.” Y/n rolled her eyes, even if it might slightly true - muttering a ‘touche’ at the brown-haired boy next to her. Their families had always been close; naturally the adults seemed to gravitate more to the kids that weren’t their own. The ones who you could ‘give back’ at the end of the day. It just so happened Nikki and Dom had always loved having Y/n around, maybe a bit more than anyone else.

“Have you had a good birthday then? You should be in there with Greg pouring that shitty vodka down your throat.” Y/n questioned, whilst shrugging back toward the house, the dull thump of Jacob's playlist just audible. Still, both stared upwards, standing close enough that their upper arms were both pressed up against each other. She expected a jovial answer, but even from his tone, it was evident there was something up. He sounded…weary?

“I’m bloody glad you all came...don’t get me wrong, I love Z and Jacob and everyone but….”

“Shitty week?”

“Shitty birthday week of promo and press.” Tom scathed, and Y/n nodded. Even if she couldn’t understand what was so bad about press, she knew that Tom hated it passionately. And in the same way, he loved all his castmates dearly, but they hadn’t known him his whole life. They didn’t understand why he did every little thing; their values lay just that bit apart. It just wasn’t the same as being surrounded with his family - you and Harrison adopted Hollands too.

“I just feel like I’ve spent all week trapped in a room answering the most stupid, irrelevant and inconsequential questions... Everything’s just so surface level and fake and, and I-“He cut himself off, for the first time meeting Y/n’s eyes. In all honesty, Tom got a bit caught up in the stars reflecting off her piercing y/e/c eyes before changing tack.

“Will you do me a favour?”

This wasn’t spoken with the normal Tom tone. It wasn’t joking or jovial; it wasn’t an ‘off the tongue’ thing. This was spoken with such seriousness and gravitas coming from his deep voice that Y/n replied equally truthfully.

“Always T, you know that.”

“Will you please ask me a personal and serious and deep question?”

She got where he was coming from too.

Clearly, even though the evening was supposed to be a light piss up in celebration, it had instead unearthed some darker thoughts that Tom had been harbouring away. Perhaps he never even realised he needed such seriousness, or perhaps with his castmates he hadn’t felt comfortable exposing himself like that. Either way, Y/n was going to respect him now. It was technically his birthday, too; the clocks had already struck 12 - it was now his day.

It wasn’t tricky to think of one; she’d often wondered the same question of him - never with the opportunity to ask. The question popped into her head again, almost as soon as Tom asked for one.

“Okay…. What’s your deepest regret that makes you feel guilty for feeling because in the grand scheme of things, it minor? Like such a 'first world problem'." What do you regret that’s just completely selfish?”

Tom immediately stiffened, his jaw tensing as he worked through his thoughts in his head. Scared she’d pushed it too far, Y/n averted her gaze back to the sky, chewing her bottom lip slightly. It took a moment, but then she saw Tom turn towards her, in the peripheries of her vision. With a tightly closed-lip smirk on his face he joked “If your gonna ask questions like that, we better sit down.”

And so they did, both sitting crossed legged on the ground, knees brushing against each other. Just on the grass lawn, almost mirroring themselves all those years ago as kids in that camping site. Y/n wondered if she should offer to play football instead - to cheer him up.

“Missing out. I miss out months at a time. Miss out on seeing mum and dad, miss out on the pub quizzes with the boys, miss out seeing you… I mean, I didn’t even know you had a new job until you mentioned it this morning. I miss out on time with nana Tess and all my grandparents, and that’s scary cos… well, every time I go, it could be the last time… I don’t know, I just… I get so much, get to travel, to see the world, but… sometimes it feels like I’m sacrificing the foundations. And without the foundations….”

“The walls come crumbling down.” Y/n finished off his sentence quietly, barely whispering the words - but from Tom’s nod of agreement, it seemed like she’d hit the nail on the head. There was silence for a beat till Y/n whispered to him.

“Well, happy birthday to you” Trying to bring the mood up a little, she bumped his shoulder, and Tom chuckled breathily.

“Seriously! This is helping me out. I-I just need to get everything out and start my 25th year fresh.”

“Hey, if that’s all you want, I’m getting a refund on my present- we can just get deep and interview each other.”

“I’m game, except I’m keeping the present too.”

“Just because it’s your birthday and I’m a bit tipsy, I’ll allow it.”

“Okay, well then, Y/n L/n”, He spoke formally, leaning in closer and making her giggle a little. “What’s your biggest regret?”

“Honestly?” Tom just repeated her in reply, but this time it was a statement.

"Honestly."

He really was going deep too. No holding back now. Y/n sucked on her cheek before replying. “Not travelling with you when we were 19… I was just so determined to get to uni and start grown-up life, but… well, grown-up life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I should’ve tried to stay a kid longer, messing about on your film sets and pretending it was work. I think I would’ve learnt more from seeing the world with you.”

“Well, I am very knowledgable.”

“Shut up, you drop out- who didn't know what a drag race was.” She wasn’t wrong, and whilst yes, he had dropped out to be a film star - he was still a dropout. (with exceptionally poor knowledge of RuPaul) He scowled, then leaning back on his hands, so he was half reclined on the grass as Y/n thought of her next question.

“Whats your biggest worry?”

“Easy.” He chuffed, making Y/n furrow her brows at him. Clearly, he’d already thought of this. “That I finally settle down with the love of my life, and then the fans or press or paps ruin it.”

It made sense; every time Tom had gone public with a relationship, it had ended in a minor car crash. Typically it was also the girl who got hurt; she was the ‘victim’ in everything. Though Y/n had seen first hand the effect it had had on Tom - he never made it out damage-free.

“You make it sound like you’ve already got this dream girl queued and waiting.”

“I wish”, Tom sighed, as Y/n took the opportunity to completely lie down on the grass, staring up at the dark abyss. She’d always loved the stars and had become a bit of a geek on them as they’d grown up too- and maybe it was all down to Tom on that camping trip. Following suit, Tom copied her, his head resting on his hands that were crossed behind his head, taking in the moment of pure peace as they lay on the grass.

“You see that bright one there?” Pointing up, Y/n shimmied closer to him so that he definitely saw the same thing as her. “It’s actually not one. Look closer.” Humming, Tom shifted a bit closer, so her shoulder slotted under the side of his body just the teeniest bit. It meant he could follow her direction and squinted up at the little patch of the sky.

“ 5…maybe 6? What is it?”

“The pliedes supercluster…. basically a big group of stars that all were born from the same place- the same stellar nursery.”

“But they’re moving now?” She hummed in confirmation to his question, briefly glancing at the way his eyes were fixed on the sky. For the first time he seemed genuinely interested in hearing her stories of the stars. It usually was an eye roll and ‘you’re so lame’.

“They’re called the sibling stars… like everything in life, as they get older they drift apart but…. but to us down here? They’ll always be associated together because they have a gravitational effect on each other. They’ll always have their thing tying them together. Like an invisible string.”

“Sounds like you’re being metaphorical.” Tom chuckled, expecting a taunt back but receiving nothing except a gentle agreement.

“Theres also actually 7. The last one people can only sometimes see… it’s a pulsing star, so comes and goes.”

“They do that?”

“Yeh, and no matter what… if you can see it or not, it’s always there. Always having an impact on its family.”

Biting his lower lip slightly, Tom repositioned his head slightly, Y/n’s words taking time to be fully absorbed. He was sure she was making parallels to him. Barely there, appearing and disappearing, but always a part of the family.

“You are being metaphorical.”

“Maybe.” She whispered shortly. “Metaphors depend on who’s listening and if they draw parallels to their own life. It’s subjective. You can’t tell anyone what is and isn’t metaphor…. it takes the beauty out of it.”

“Right, sure... But if you were…. me, harry, Sam, pads, you, Haz, Tuwaine? That the 7?” Y/n held back the little smile at his words. Tom wasn’t as ‘head in the clouds’ as she was- he was literal. Also, he was bloody stubborn when he wanted to be.

“I wasn’t being metaphorical T.” He knew she was lying. She knew that he knew. But it still helped him, made him feel a bit better. That he was always, in some way, having some effect... lives always intertwined with the people he cared about the most.

“Tell me another story about another star.”

Time for the rest of the night kind of got lost. The two young adults just lay on the grass, entirely in their own little world, using each others body heat to keep themselves warm through the early hours. Neither felt remotely tired, Y/n whispering her little stories of both the myths and science of the old stars, pointing out each planet. Meanwhile, Tom listened in awe, for once not taking the mick out of her incredibly geeky hobby. Instead, he found himself getting fascinated by all the little intricacies Y/n was so passionate about.

It was only when the stars began to fade, as orangey-red hue started to seep up from the horizon the either noticed the time. It was now the morning of the next day, the house long since had turned silent behind them - presumably, everyone finally passing out shit faced.

As the stars’ light was overtaken by the rising sun, Y/n ran out of stories; the two settled into silence - neither quite ready to go to bed yet.

“It’s still my turn,” Tom spoke into the sky before pivoting his head to look Y/n in the eye, seeing the confusion in her furrowed brows. “It’s my question to ask. My turn.”

“Aren’t you sick of my voice yet?” There was absolutely no reason that they were both whispering. It wasn’t like anyone was trying to listen or that they’d disturb anyone else my talking normally. But it was nicer that way. It felt calming... intimate even.

“One more. And then you get one more… and then we really should probably go to bed.” He didn’t want the night to end; he was immensely enjoying this weird grey time between being 25 and 26. But it was cold, Tom could tell Y/n had started to feel it a little more. To be fair, she was only in a floral day dress, not much in the way of warmth. With a hum of agreement, Y/n smiled lightly at him, urging his question.

“Whats the biggest secret you’ve kept from me?”

With a bit of a scoff, Y/n sighed and closed her eyes, trying to draw some strength she wasn’t sure she had. It wasn’t like she needed to wrack her brains to come up with it - she knew instantly. Almost painfully too.

“Uhm, honestly?” Now even more intrigued, Tom nodded, using his foot for nudge hers - encouraging her to speak. “Probably how much you mean to me.”

“Oh” He couldn’t help it; the sound just slipped out his mouth without checking with his brain first. That answer had just been so unexpected. He had honestly been thinking that it would be something about how ‘fame had changed him’. After hearing that, Y/n turned her head up the sky again, feeling like her cheeks were on fire with embarrassed heat. Tom knew he had fucked up.

“No, I… I didn’t mean- just just ask me too.” With a sigh, Y/n waved off his stumbled answer as he tried to cover himself.

“This is stup-“

“Ask me!” For the first time in 5 hours, Tom spoke at an normal volume - but it felt painfully loud, like a shout.

“What’s the biggest secret you kept from me?” Her tone was defeated, but nevertheless, he answered.

“How upset I was when you didn’t come when we were 19. I got why, but it was still annoying. Felt like you were picking uni friends over me-“ At this point on any other evening, Y/n would have interjected and argued. None of this situation was normal, though, so she chose to hear him out. “- I know it’s stupid, but…. I guess that’s how much you meant an-and still mean to me too.”

There was silence for a couple minutes, waiting whilst the sun started to peep over the horizon, the lone witness to an otherwise very private conversation. That was until Y/n barely spoke, more like mouthed 2 simple words.

“I lied.” The intensity of the way Tom stared at her made Y/n wish that the sun hadn’t been so bright, that they were back in the darkness that hid her face more. “Biggest lie I’ve told you … that I’m not in love with you.”

Y/n didn’t see because she couldn’t face looking at him, but Tom’s face erupted into the most prominent, toothiest smile. Whilst Tom was enjoying the moment of being absolutely ecstatic, Y/n was waiting for a response- feeling her world come crashing in. That she'd just destroyed one of the most important friendships in her life too.

But then he said the opposite of what she thought he would.

“I lied too.”

That had her attention, whipping her head toward him as Tom rolled onto his side on the lawn, balancing with his head resting on one hand. “I lied that I’ve not been completely under your spell since we were kids at that campsite, and you were homesick.”

Y/n’s heart was literally in her mouth, brain overwhelmed but one overriding thought oh so bloody clear.

She’d lost control of everything, arching up to mirror Tom. Using one hand, she reached out to cup Tom’s jaw, to which he instinctively leant toward - until their lips were mere centimetres apart, hot breath fanning over each other.

Y/n no control as she whispered those 3 words against his lips. No control at how immediately after he pressed his to hers; no control as Tom guided her to roll on top of him, knees either side of his torso as his strong arms wrapped around her back.

Once again, time was lost between the two, only pulling apart when their lungs burned for oxygen.

“For the record, I love you too.” Grinning from ear to ear, Tom used one hand to gently stroke his thumb across her cheek, switching his focus from her left to right eye - in wonder at how the early morning sun reflected from her y/e/c irises. He’d always thought she was beyond beautiful, but when she was this close to him, with the sun rising behind her in such a way - she looked damn ethereal.

“Happy birthday T.” Nodding in agreement, Tom chuckled before finding her lips once again, whispering against them.

“Yeh, happy damn birthday to me.”

~~~~let me know what you think ;) ~~~~~

tagging: @hallecarey1 @hollandfanficlove @crossyourpeter

#tom Holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #writing challenge #tbff21 #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #harry Holland

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hoezhatelola · 3 years ago

Text

Pretty Little Head

Yandere Deku x Fem!Reader

warnings: yandere tendencies(obviously), 18+ NSFW, gore/violence, drug usage, bondage, dubcon/noncon, praise kink, oral(female receiving), oral(male receiving), MDNI

a/n: this was actually a request i received outside of tumblr but i decided to make one here too! i’m so excited to write this one, i think that underneath deku’s innocent appearance he would make one hell of a yandere.

word count: 4.1k

deku had never anticipated someone like you would be the source of all his stress, pleasure, and love. despite being quirkless and utterly small compared to deku himself, you were always so kind. you were always there to take his hand and help him up when bakugou would push him down. you were always there to ruffle his hair and reassure him he’d do great on an exam. you were always there to offer him a snack or some extra lunch, even if you were hungry.

it left deku confused in the dust, as a child and still now, completely lost in how or why you were so nice to him. even when he took off to pursue his career of being a pro hero, which he was very successful in doing, you were still there to visit him or patch up his scratches.

in his bright green eyes and from beneath his curly green hair, this was enough for anyone to reserve the right to feel a burning hatred towards your significant other. he watched in anger as you sat on that blue-eyed idiot’s lap, tangling your fingers in his dark hair and whispering dirty nothings into his ear. he watched in jealousy as a stupid smirk spread across his lips, well aware there was something threatening to spring upwards as he palmed the fat of your thigh in response.

much to his dismay, he couldn’t watch you all hours of the day due to hero work. that didn’t mean he didn’t keep tabs on you however, which he accomplished by using his friends to update him on your whereabouts. who you were with, what you were doing, what you were wearing, what time you got home, when you fell asleep and when you wake up- he knew everything.

at the end of the day, he was still your best friend. you had invited him over one evening and you were telling him about your day, him smiling in response and just looking at you in awe, listening to you babble away.

“and then it started raining! so i had to run to my car and i ended up slipping, see?” you pointed towards your thigh where a large, and honestly, painful looking scrape was. his eyes widened in his response as he analyzed the mark. “that looks like it must’ve hurt, bunny.”

your heart repeated that same fluttering that it has been ever since you were teenagers at response to that nickname of yours. you’d think by now you’d have gotten used to it, huh?

“it did! and i was just laying there like an idiot in the rain for a good two minutes.” you laughed, emphasizing the word idiot. he chuckled in response, seemingly distracted with something else as he admired your smile and the way it lit up your entire cozy apartment.

“hey, you okay?” you asked suddenly, running a hand through his locks, the two of you seated on your sofa with the tv on in front of you. naturally as best friends, the two of you have had a few intimate moments, but they were always platonic. even though he knew this, he loved you too much for his breath not to hitch at the feeling of your soft fingertips playing with his hair.

“oh! yeah, i-i’m fine!” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck and beaming brightly. “hero work just gets me tired and all, you know?” of course you didn’t know. what was he thinking saying that? you were always insecure of being quirkless, your childhood bully, bakugou, not being any help.

you pulled your hand back and looked away, your eyelids slightly lowering themselves, giving you a less excited expression. deku felt his heart drop and his stomach turn inside out, he hated himself for getting so caught up in his own thoughts of fluffy handcuffs adorning your wrists and your bodies colliding that he had forgotten to think before speaking.

“i didn’t mean it like that, bunny!” he said quickly, reaching out to grab your hand when you dodged him. “what are you-”

“this isn’t the first time you’ve said something like that, deku.” you muttered, immediately questioning yourself afterwards. were you being too sensitive? “even if you didn’t mean it this time, i- i just hate hearing you say it…” your eyes locked into the floor, your fingers now fiddling with each other.

although deku didn’t always have the strongest memory, he never failed to remember that some things in the world were far too fragile to be left out there. that they were too sensitive and too kind and too innocent to be yelled at. but sometimes- and only sometimes, did they deserve to be punished.

he did his best to soften his voice before scooting closer and placing a much larger and scarred up hand on top of yours. “bunny, i really didn’t mean it this time. you know that there’s nothing wrong with being quirkless, right?” he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, now revealing your tear-stained side profile.

head now resting on his chest as he sat next to you, wrapping his arms around you in attempt to comfort you, his heart beating through his clothes. “i’ve always wanted to be a hero, since we were little. pathetic how i thought i actually had a chance…” you mumbled into his chest, blinking back more tears and suppressing a sniffle. “when you got into U.A., and your quirk developed late, i was s’ happy fer’ you. i looked up to you and i- i always wa-wanted to be jus’ like y-you.” your words became more jumbled as your tears welled up and you hiccuped multiple times.

deku was then reminded of the significant fact that he never told you the truth about his quirk, and he never planned to. always wanted to be like him, huh? he allowed you to cry into his chest, enveloping you in all of the possible warmth that he could, feeling his opportunity nearing closer and closer.

“looked up to me? hah… bunny, i always looked up to you.” he tilted your chin up and wiped a tear away with his calloused thumb, his strong arms still around your smaller frame. “you’ve always been so kind and intelligent, and a lot stronger than me. hell, you stood up to kacchan when i couldn’t!”

a small smile worked it’s way onto your lips in response. “that’s my bunny, there’s that smile..” deku said, and you giggled, hugging him tighter than before. “aah, thanks deku.” you sighed, “maybe i was being a little, smh- dramatic.” you sniffled, shrugging your shoulders.

“not at all… hey, how about some of your favorite tea? you know i make it the best!” he said enthusiastically as you curled up with a blanket that he had gotten you on your last birthday. “why not?” you giggled as he walked into the kitchen and prepared your drink.

an unfamiliar, soft sensation could be felt on your wrists, restraining you from moving. the surface you were on was particularly soft and comfortable, and you hazily opened your eyes to be met with a large room. you looked up and spotted a pair of fluffy, pink handcuffs locked tightly onto your wrists above your head, keeping you restrained to the white, wooden headboard.

the four walls were painted a baby pink, a large mirror, decorated with swirls on the edges hanging in the middle, and the entire room lined with stuffies, trinkets, pillows and everything soft. from what you could see, the door had more locks on it than you could count with your blurred vision, and surely, heavy approaching footsteps could be heard from the other side of the door.

you held your breath and closed your eyes, turning your head and pretending to be asleep. your lips parted in a gentle breath for air, your body remaining still as the unknown person entered the room and locked the door behind them. you felt the right side of the bed dip as if someone was looming over you, attempting to get a better look at something.

“i know you’re awake, bunny. i heard you tugging at the pretty little handcuffs.” your eyes snapped open at the sound of your best friend’s voice. his eyes locked with yours as he set a plate down beside the bed and pulled you to sit up straight. “hey, pretty girl.”

“d-deku?” you stuttered, eyes widening as the feeling in your legs was now returning. “yes, my love?” he replied, the plate of food now in his lap as he began to cut the piece of meat for you. “what- what the hell is going on? why am i handcuffed to this bed? where even am i?”

“shh, shh… relax, bunny. eat a little first, i made your favorite!” he shoved the piece of steak up against your lips using the fork and you shook your head now. his knuckles gripped the fork so tightly they turned white, and so you complied and chewed. “remember how i told you i was renovating my basement? welcome! i made it all pretty and comfortable for you! i have all your favorite colors and i got all these fluffy plushies and blankets!” he said with too much excitement.

“ahh!” his eyes lit up, “we’re gonna have so much fun here, for the rest of forever!” you swallowed the bite you took before he was already offering you more, obviously eager to see you full. “deku… i’m still confused here. uncuff me, now.”

“tch… you’re really ungrateful, you know.” he muttered, continuing to feed you and caress you. “how am i ungrateful, huh?” you asked furiously, a complete fool for thinking you could even remotely amount to his level. you locked your eyes with his as he set the food to the side and forced you to drink water and remain hydrated. beyond his insane thought process and maniacal grins, even an idiot could see he still cared.

“first, i wake up in some completely random room, handcuffed to a bed! and then you come in here, offer me a meal, and then when i want to be uncuffed, im ungrateful? deku, you need to ex-” he leaned in a cut you off completely, your lips attaching.

you turned your head in attempt to look away, to which he grabbed your chin and held you still. his hands trailing down to between your thighs, effortlessly spreading them apart, your fighting back doing nothing at all. his hands tightened their grips on your inner thighs as his lips continued on your neck. he found your hopeless squirming adorable, but irritating.

“gah… stay still.” his tone firmed and his eyes narrowed, again looking into yours. you’d seen him mad before, of course, and you’d seen him determined and impatient and annoyed, but he was never so intimidating towards you. deku realized this shortly after, immediately softening his tone as he dipped his head down to between your legs, nibbling at the fat of your thighs.

“what are you- aah…” you gasped suddenly, your head snapping downwards to see his tongue run a long, clean lick over your slit from on top of your cute little panties. you knew you stood no chance against the number one hero, and you’d never admit to the growing dampness between your legs. your thighs threatened to grind together as his tongue and teeth continued teasing the edges of your panties, avoiding where you genuinely needed him.

“deku, pl-please don’ do th-this.” you gulped down, a tear making it’s way down your cheek. he looked up at you and smiled brightly and pulled down your panties, throwing them to the side, much to your confusion. “but look at you, bunny..” he ran two fingers along your now naked, glistening cunt as your juices coated them. “you’re completely soaked for me. you don’t actually want me to stop, do you? hmm..”he hummed.

“i… i don’t…” you struggled desperately to find words as your cheeks flushed red at the feeling of his eyes seeing things no one else ever has before. “right…” he smugly said both at the feeling of knowing how much you were second guessing yourself, and seeing you blush so furiously, spreading your legs apart even further, holding you down once again, effortlessly. “now just be my good bunny and take it.”

his words sent you over the fucking edge, your thighs grinding together for some type of friction as he laughed with a sense of superiority, now lying completely on his stomach and lapping at your folds. he wasted no time, and the feeling of his wet tongue slide across your womanhood was a sensation you were unfamiliar with. the last ounce of your strength was used when fighting back, and so you just lied there and took it, just like deku said.

your sweet taste drove him more insane than he already was. he watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your brows knitted together, and he swore he fell in love with you all over again. his thumb was brought to your clit before he ran careful circles over it, blowing hot air against your pussy when you attempted to squirm away, causing goosebumps to rise against your skin. you could feel him smirking against you, and at this point you didn’t really care.

“de-deku… i’m- what the f-fuck..” you were at a loss for words. obviously you knew what an orgasm was, you’re not an idiot. this time was different than all of the other times you had willingly explored there on your own. it was something so much stronger, so much better. “i know, bunny. go ahead pretty girl… cum for me.” he spoke, muffled against your juices and folds.

his command was all it took for you to feel a strong coil within your stomach snap, and your mouth formed a silent ‘O,’ shape as your body shook in pleasure and you saw white spots all over your vision. your orgasm washed over you like a crashing wave, your desperate and pathetic fingers digging into the soft handcuffs you still wore.

“deku? ‘m tired now…” you mumbled in response to him unzipping his pants and undoing your handcuffs. “already?” he said playfully, but his face was nothing but serious. you nodded and hummed quietly in response as he looked down at you, noting how angelic you looked in this warm lighting that he had set up throughout the room using small lamps, cozy lights, and candles. not real candles, of course- what if you got burned when he wasn’t there?

“we’re not done yet, pretty girl. on your knees.” he looked down at you as he stood at the foot of the bed, watching you crawl over to him. you looked up at him, unsure of what to do next. “why am i here?” his eyes widened in realization that you actually didn’t know what to do this time, and it only made him more excited and honored to be your first. he pulled his pants down a little more, revealing his black boxers and a huge bulge.

“go ahead, take it out.” you hesitantly reached towards the bulge and pulled his boxers down, his large and throbbing member springing up and slapping you right in the nose. “ow…” you mumbled to yourself, and deku laughed. “fuck, you’re so cute. now take it in your hands and pump it a few times, use that pretty mouth.”

you ran your fingers across the tip, not knowing how much that stimulated him. after hearing a soft grunt when you ran your thumb across the tip, dragging his pre-cum along a large vein down the base, you assumed it was a good thing. your eyes explored the strange new thing as he took a fist of your hair. you looked up at him and winced at the sudden sting in your scalp.

“suck on it, bunny. use your mouth.” he repeated again, growing impatient. you grew determined to make him feel good too, all thoughts of fighting back leaving your mind. your hand nearly wrapped around his entire girth, but he was too thick for your smaller hands to do so. once again, hesitantly, you kitten-licked the tip a few times as his eyes shut calmly for a moment. your warm mouth wrapped around the tip as he basked in the feeling of the wetness, you released it with an unintentional pop.

“like this?” you asked innocently as he looked down to watch you suck his length, moving down slowly as you attempted to take all of him in your mouth. you could only go halfway before he hit the back of your throat, and when you gagged cutely around him, the grip on your hair tightened and a quiet whimper escaped the back of his throat. you picked up the pace in response and sucked even more furiously as best as you could, repeatedly gagging and hollowing your cheeks. “y-yeah… aauhh, jus’ like that, bunny.”

you continued your sucking and gentle pumping and tongue swirling around him as he continued to yank at your hair and admire your tear stained face and saliva covered mouth and throat. “aah.. yer’ sure you’ve n-never.. mgh, done this before?” he struggled to speak due to his many grunts and moans.

you nodded quietly as you felt him harden and pulsate in your mouth, repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. he suddenly pulled your hair, hard, and you winced loudly. he got down to your level and cleaned your face using his hand and dragged a thumb across your lip, consumed in the way tears pricked at your eyes just for him. “wh-what was that for? ‘m not done.” you muttered, reaching towards his cock when he stopped you with a chuckle and a deranged grin.

“like it that much, hm? we’re not done yet, bunny. don’t worry.” you tilted your head, your eyes then widening. “y-you mean, we’re gonna..” you trailed off as he gently pushed you down by your shoulders onto you back, crawling on top of you and hovering over your body. he cupped your cheek with one large hand and used his knee to spread your thighs apart. he clicked his tongue and trailed kisses from your jaw down your neck to between the valley of your breasts, looking up at you with his emerald green orbs.

“don’t act clueless, bunny. i know you’ve thought about getting touched down here by a real man.” he chuckled, slapping his length against your cunt two times, causing you to jump. “d-deku, please don-” your own words were caught in your throat when he slid the first few centimeters in, causing you to gasp and tug roughly on your handcuffs. “g-get off.. aauh..” you whimpered, attempting to push him off of you, clearly doing nothing. you fought the growing sting in your velvety walls as he slowly inched in.

“its okay, pretty girl. a little bit at a time..” he whispered into your ear, causing your walls to clench around his first few inches, to which he smirked and nibbled on your jaw. “that’s it... good girl.” he praised as he filled you up completely. deku was so overwhelmed with the pleasure of his bunny wrapped around his cock, and the reality that he was your first that he forgot to wait for you to adjust before pulling out and thrusting back in.

“deku!” you cried out in pain as his eyes widened and he immediately wrapped his arms around you, hugging you into his chest. “i’m so sorry,” he rapidly apologized over and over again, claiming he lost control and would wait now. “i-it hurts...” you muttered into his neck before nodding a minute later, signalling he could now move. he slowly pulled out and thrust back in, his tip barely brushing up against your cervix. he moved once more and a swirling pool of pleasure slowly took over any remnants of pain.

“mmph.. faster, deku.” you mewled out his nickname that you’ve had for him since you were little, and his heart picked up the pace before looking into your eyes and drowning in your expression as he slid in and out of you, your walls pulsating tightly around him, your thighs and his balls now soaked in your juices. “fuck... aauh, you’re such a good fucking girl for me, hah.” he said in a cocky tone, now slamming into you relentlessly.

“while we’re here,” he said, his pace growing sloppier by the second. “let’s get one thing crystal clear.” he continued, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at his flushed face, his cock still pounding into your sloppy cunt, the lewd noises of him fucking you filling the room. “you’re mine, all fucking mine. this fucking pussy,” he said, punctuating his sentence with a light slap against your folds. “this body, that cute little expression in your eyes, and everything else about you belongs to me. not that blue-eyed shit-faced bitch.” he raised his voice causing you to flinch.

“we’re clear with that, aren’t we?” he asked as your eyes rolled into the back of your head due to him continuously hitting that spot with the tip of his member. “hey,” he growled, bringing a throat to your neck and squeezing it tightly, completely cutting off your oxygen. you clawed at his hand as best as you could despite your handcuffs, and your face grew a bright pink and almost purple. he hated slapping you or choking you or tying you up, and he hated himself for getting excited at that fearful look in your glistening eyes. he released his grip on your throat and you gasped desperately for air, glaring at him. “fucking answer me.”

“y-yeah, mhnm...” you moaned out, still recovering from being choked. your pussy clenched around him as you felt your second, much stronger, orgasm nearing. he felt his own nearing as well, your beautiful moans not helping in holding him back. “yeah, what?” he smirked, knowing he was pushing your limits. “y-yeah, we’re ..mhgn, clear!” you yelled in frustration as he got a kick out of it, enjoying the idea of you thinking you could raise your voice at him.

“you know what?” he pulled out rapidly, cumming all over your stomach before lying beside you, leaving you empty and unsatisfied. “wh-what?” you stuttered in shock and irritation, grinding your thighs together for some type of friction as you angrily yanked on your handcuffs. “now...” he kissed the tip of your nose and smiled at you brightly, as if all of this was amusing. “you don’t get to finish!” he exclaimed happily, giggling shortly after as you struggled and tugged at your restraints.

“why?” you questioned the green-haired man, who said nothing. he wrapped a strong arm around your needy body and fought the urge to play with your clit using his fingertips. “why, deku? this isn’t fair!’ you whined as he chuckled dryly and tightened the soft handcuffs. “nothing is fair, my love. i have another shift now, so i’ll be gone for a few hours. need anything?” he asked in a condescending tone, knowing you would motion towards your dripping, aching cunt, which he wouldn’t help you with. he didn’t care to help your needy pussy.

he got up and grabbed the silver key he used to previously lock the basement door, glancing back at your distressed eyes one more time before leaving and slamming the door shut.

“maybe next time you won’t get some silly idea in that pretty little head of yours that you can raise your voice with me.”

#deku #yandere #bnha #my hero academia #yandere izuku #tired sigh #mha smut #deku smut #i hope it makes sense #im so tired #smut #i love him #i love him i love him i love him i love him

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bestofbucky · 4 years ago

Note

Imagine the reader tells Bucky she’s in love with him, and dumbass Bucky thinking he’s protecting her from himself tells her that he doesn’t love her back, and they try to still be friends, but a few months later, he sees reader getting REAL close with Loki, and Bucky does NOT like that AT ALL 😭

ROOFTOP.

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, platonic!Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Angst, swearing, happy ending.

A/N: Thank you for this request :) Hope you like it!

Divider by me.

Looking out at the skyline of New York City you sighed. This was your favourite thing about living at the tower. You found yourself coming up to the roof a lot. When you wanted to get away from the constant movement and excitement of your life, you would find a moment of stillness here, you especially loved it at sunset and sunrise.

The rest of the Avengers all knew this was your special place, they wouldn’t bother you when you’re up here because they know how much it helps you. This time is different though. You had asked Bucky to meet you up here at sunset, hoping the environment around you would soothe your nerves. It seemed to be working, but then again Bucky hadn’t arrived yet.

It was as if he heard you thinking about him because not two seconds later, the metal door was opening and he stepped out.

He was wearing grey sweatpants and a white shirt that his muscles were threatening to rip apart. The warm glow off the sun on his skin, making him look ethereal, like a god sent down from the heavens above.

He searched around for you, his eyes finally meeting with yours. His smile grew wider and his eyebrows raised as he made his way over to you. Finally getting to you he pulls you into a hug. You happily accept, breathing in his scent hoping it will calm you like it normally does but it has the opposite effect.

Your mind goes into overdrive and you suddenly regret asking him up here. What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if you misread all the loving touches and subtle glances? What if you confess your feelings and you end up losing him forever?

“Doll?” Bucky's voice draws you out of your head. “Everything ok? You seem tense.”

You look up at him, he has a concerned look on his face. Taking a deep breath you nod.

“I’m fine Bucky, just a little nervous.” You explain but it only seems to confuse him more.

“Nervous for what?” He asks and you suddenly find great interest in the floor. Memories of time you have spent with Bucky come flooding into your mind. Movie nights where you two always sit together, whether there is room for you both or not. Mornings when Bucky will have your favourite breakfast prepared for when you wake up. Sparring together but ending up rolling around the mats in a tickle fight instead of a fist fight. You push it all aside and take a deep breath.

“I asked you up here for a reason.” You tell him. His eyes catch the sunlight and you are mesmerised. You remember the first time you noticed his eye colour. You’d had a nightmare and went to Bucky’s room hoping he could help you. He held you, telling you stories from his childhood, the rhythm of his voice soothing you off to sleep. You had woken up in his arms, feeling safer than ever before. The sunlight streamed in through the windows and when Bucky had opened his eyes, they were striking, you had wondered how you’d never noticed the colour before. It was in that moment you realised you had fallen for Bucky.

Two months later brought you here, in front of Bucky, on the roof, finally having the courage to confess your feelings.

“I asked you up here, to tell you that I love you.” You hold your breath waiting for his response but nothing comes. He stands there, completely silent. You can’t read the expression on his face but it looks close to one of fear.

“Please say something.” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper but you know he heard you. Finally he breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry doll,” he is looking everywhere except you. “I just don’t feel the same.”

Ouch. Like a punch to the gut suddenly all your worst fears seem to have come true. You try hard to stop the tears from forming in your eyes but it’s useless. Bucky still won’t look at you and it’s driving you mad.

“Look at me Bucky.” You try but it is like talking to a wall, he has closed off and there is no getting through to him. You can’t believe it. You don’t believe it. So you try one last time.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me.” Your voice is weak from focusing your energy on trying to not cry. This is your attempt at a last resort, hoping he is just scared, that you didn’t misread the situation and he does love you back.

He sighs and looks at you finally. “I don’t love you, not like that. We are friends doll, nothing more.” His once calm blue eyes were now icy and uninviting. You feel like such an idiot for thinking your feelings would be reciprocated. Why would anyone as good as Bucky love someone like you.

You nod finally able to speak, “I think you should go.”

3 Months Later

You haven’t been up to the rooftop since that evening. Every time you tried you felt the same pain in your chest you had felt that day, when he told you he didn’t love you. That day changed you, your walls went up and no one was allowed close enough to try and knock them down.

Bucky tried to stay friends, he would still save you a space for movie night, he would still make your breakfast for you. So you stopped going to movie night, and started getting up earlier than him. It was too painful to have him at such a close distance but still out of reach.

Then, a month ago, Loki came to stay at the tower. You had met him a few times before but they were just passing moments. This time you had bumped into him on one of your ‘I can’t sleep’ walks. He thought it would be funny to get inside your mind. Although he quickly realised it was the opposite. Still, he took it upon himself to cheer you up and help you move on from Bucky.

Apart from when he got inside your head without your permission, you liked spending time with Loki. He is funny and charming and most of the time he helps you get your mind off a certain super soldier.

It’s movie night tonight. Loki told you he was going to save you a seat. Which is why you are currently standing by your door, wondering whether you should go or not. You really miss spending time with everyone, you just don’t know if you are ready to be in close proximity to Bucky.

Fuck it. You would have Loki as your support blanket, you know he would be there for you if anything happened. You took a deep breath and with shaky hands opened the door, making your way to the movie room.

Bucky always made sure he was the first in the movie room on movie night. He held out hope that one day you would decide to join everyone again and when that day came the spot next to him would be saved just for you.

So when he saw you walk through the door and scan the room for a seat he got so excited, this would be the start of your friendship again. This would be the thing to bring you back together and heal the wounds of your broken relationship.

But then your eyes landed on someone that wasn’t him, they brightened the way they used to for him. You made your way over and sat down next to Loki. He immediately wrapped his arm around you pulling you into his side, just like Bucky used to do.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the two of you, he hated how easily Loki could make you laugh, how comfortable you were around him. He hated that Loki was allowed to be near you but he had practically been banished, forced to watch from a distance.

He couldn’t take it any longer, he stood up and stormed out the room, ignoring the calls of his name. Everything Bucky had hoped would happen when he lied and told you he didn’t love you has happened. You are safe, protected from him, happy without him, but it was killing him.

Somehow he found himself on the rooftop. He had been doing that a lot lately, it reminded him of you. The angelic beauty of the New York Skyline. The serenity that allowed his mind moments of calm. It allowed him to get lost in thoughts and visions of you. The only place he could spend time with you was in his head and the rooftop allowed those visions to come easier.

The sound of metal creaking causes his head to shoot towards the now open door where you step out onto the roof. You look around for him, finding him standing by the wall already looking at you.

You walk over and stand next to him, eyes looking ahead at the city that never sleeps. Bucky has to fight the urge to pull you closer, removing the gap between you but it’s too big, too much has happened. Even though you are physically close to him, mentally you are further away than ever.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.” You speak, it’s a sound Bucky knew was a luxury to hear.

“I’m fine doll. Go back and enjoy the movie.” His voice is emotionless but you have missed it nonetheless.

“Why do you do that? Why do you call me doll if we are only friends?” You suddenly feel yourself getting angry, you didn’t misread the situation between you and Bucky, he was the one that led you on.

“Are we even friends?” Bucky laughs but it is still void of any emotion.

“Answer the question.” You growl, showing how serious you are.

“It’s just a nickname.” He brushes off but you still aren’t happy with his answer.

“You don’t call anyone else doll. In fact, you don’t have nicknames like that for anyone. Just me.” You turn to face him but he is still looking ahead.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He huffs.

“I want you to tell me the truth.” You are shouting now, you can't help it, you are just so frustrated with him. “I want you to tell me why you call me doll and no one else!” He doesn’t speak so you continue. “I want you to tell me why you stormed out just now!” Still no answer. “I want you to tell me why three months ago you looked me in the eye and lied to me!”

That gets his attention. He turns to you quickly, his eyes wide in shock, scanning your face. “I-I didn’t lie to you.” The same look crosses his face as it did three months ago. That look answers your questions without him even having to speak. He was scared, he probably wanted to protect you. You sigh and go to walk away but he grabs your wrist, turning you back around to face him.

“I didn’t lie to you.” He says again, this time with more conviction. You can’t believe he is still too much of a coward to tell the truth.

“Fuck you Bucky.” You know he is lying to you and you hate him for it. You pull your wrist from his grip and stride over to the door but before you can open it a hand on your shoulder is turning you around. Desperation is clear on Bucky’s face as he hurriedly places his hands on either side of your face and presses his lips to yours. It’s eager and it’s bruising but it’s over all too quickly.

He pulls away, his hands still cupping your face, afraid that if he lets go he will lose you.

“Kiss me again.” Your voice comes out in a hoarse whisper. “Please.”

He leans in slowly this time and gently kisses you. He pours everything he has into the kiss and you feel it, you feel his passion, you feel his hunger and most importantly you feel his love. Your lips move fluidly together as he guides you backwards to rest against the door. The cold metal on your skin makes you gasp and Bucky uses this as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

Pulling away breathless he rests his forehead on yours, neither one of you ready to open your eyes just yet. When you finally do pull away you are met by those gorgeous blue eyes that you fell in love with and you can’t stop the smile from forming on your lips.

“I love you doll.” He whispers before leaning in again, closing the gap between you and crumbling your walls completely.

Permanent Taglist: @vampirewithbedsidemanners @townwitchbitch @velvetcardiganbucky @courtneychicken @band--psycho @tuiccim

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

Note

NMJ is used to taking care of everyone else. He's not used to being taken care of. After getting injured or sick or a qi divination or something, his loved ones all come together to take care of him. He learns more people care deeply about him than he realized.

And if you can include a scene with someone bathing him or washing his hair, I would be ecstatic.

ao3

“- and no excuses!” Nie Huaisang’s voice was a little shrill, but under the circumstances, Nie Mingjue didn’t entirely feel like he could object.

After all, all the yelling, shrill or otherwise, was a sign that Nie Huaisang was sincerely worried about him, something Nie Mingjue usually did his best not to doubt. His little brother was self-absorbed and carefree, just the way he’d vowed he’d let him be years before when Nie Huaisang had been little more than a child. So even if Nie Huaisang’s behavior annoyed him or worried him, which it often did, even if it seized up his heart to think about what might happen when he was gone, when there would be no one to take care of his brother for him, it still pleased him beyond measure to see his brother grow up happy.

So what if it meant taking on some extra burdens, meant doing that little bit more to conceal his hardships and portray himself as the unshakable older brother Nie Huaisang saw him as? So what if his brother’s complaints sometimes acted as thorns hooked deep in his heart, itching under his skin, making him wonder does he really think of me that way and have I gone too far this time, maybe he hates me now and all that?

Nie Huaisang was yelling at him again, voice painfully shrill and piercing, but for Nie Mingjue, to hear his brother worried for him and not from him made for a nice change.

Anyway, he himself had probably been just as shrill, when it had been his father that –

It wasn’t that bad, he reminded himself. Baxia was as strong a presence in his mind as ever, their bond uninterrupted. It only looked bad from the outside.

It looked – pretty bad from the outside.

Nie Mingjue tried to smile at Nie Huaisang, but for some reason that just seemed to make things worse: Nie Huaisang’s eyes filled up with tears at once and the scowl on his face deepened. “I’m serious, da-ge! Really serious. I’ll take care of everything, you won’t need to worry about anything at all – for real, this time – and in return, you’re staying put until the doctors say you’re better.”

Nie Mingjue nodded obediently.

Nie Huaisang burst into tears and fled the room before Nie Mingjue could even offer him a hug.

Watching his little brother run, Nie Mingjue sighed and turned his gaze towards his (usually) reliable head disciple standing guard in the corner of the room, trying to ask with his gaze what in the world he was doing wrong, but Nie Zonghui’s eyes were red like a bad attack of spring fever and he wouldn’t even look at him.

It was not, in Nie Mingjue’s view, a very effective way to guard him. Not that he needed guarding – maybe if he’d had no choice but to return injured to Jinlin Tower, that pit of vipers and nest of foxes, but despite the gravity of his wounds they’d still managed to make it as far as this little outpost in disputed territory. Even if it was a stretch, they could put soldiers here and call it justified as being land under the command of Qinghe Nie…though possibly Jin Guangshan would try to find some way to use them doing that to his advantage.

And Nie Mingjue wasn’t exactly up for another war at the moment.

He wasn’t up for anything.

“Stop thinking of politics,” Nie Zonghui said, and his voice was hoarse as if he’d been swallowing sobs. Nie Mingjue wondered how he’d guessed. “I always can tell because your nose wrinkles whenever you think too hard about it…ah, A-Jue, you scared us.”

Scared his half-generation uncle enough to revert back to using childhood nicknames, apparently.

Nie Mingjue wished he could say something to comfort him.

Well, if he were wishing for things, forget wishing that he hadn’t been struck temporarily mute, he might as well go the full way and wish that the terrible creature he’d been fighting – a demon of especially vicious character, and so unexpectedly near to Lanling, too! – hadn’t taken advantage of the weakness he still suffered from, after the Nightless City, to attack his saber rather than himself.

Might as well wish, too, that he’d never been captured in Yangquan in the first place. That he’d never been beaten or tortured, that he’d never had a hundred Wen feet kicking at his saber in some pale shadow their sect leader, attempting to break him as their sect leader had broken his father.

How he had felt when the demon’s blow had fallen straight onto his blade and she had cracked –

Baxia was fine. He could feel her.

(He remembered his father shouting for someone to bring him his saber, long gone, and wondered –)

Baxia was fine.

He’d examined her a thousand times and couldn’t see any true damage – the physical damage was artificially induced, located at the far end; for a regular saber, it wouldn’t be anything to think twice about, a bit of hammering in the forge and it would be as if it had never happened, with no lingering weakness. It was only if her spirit had been harmed, or the bond between them, that his own spirit would be injured, his mind affected, and that hadn’t happened. He’d checked, was checking, time and time again. She was fine.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t tell anybody that.

When the blade had cracked, he’d reacted on instinct in a fit of panic, sending all of his qi immediately to his bond with Baxia, desperately and frantically trying to ensure that his soul wasn’t torn out of his hands the way his father’s had been, that gruesome descent into madness and frothing aimless rage. The demon had sensed his distraction and gone for his throat with its claws, and then the rest of the Nie sect that had come on the night-hunt with him had descended upon it like howling wolves, throwing everything they’d brought with them at it.

Not a good night-hunting strategy (what if the demon hadn’t been alone? what if it was huddled together with other creatures of resentful energy the way they usually were, and using up their arsenal on it left them vulnerable? what if they encountered something on the way back?), but admittedly very effective.

The demon had been utterly vanquished – and really, all the admonishments not to think of politics aside, it was very unusual for such a thing to be lurking around in the environs of another Great Sect like that, especially when that sect had invited its guests to casually night-hunt to entertain themselves – and now they were here.

Or rather, he was here, lying in bed with needles stuck in him like a porcupine, drinking bowl after bowl of medicine as his brother frantically hovered over him. And Nie Mingjue was yielding to it all without complaint even when it was really annoying (he’d never been a very good patient) because he understood, having once been there in Nie Huaisang’s place when his father had been in his, except all his complaisance seemed to be only making Nie Huaisang even more upset.

Baxia grumbled in his mind, having apparently realized that they weren’t going night-hunting again until she was fully repaired and all the worry-warts around him satisfied, and he comforted her with his own misery at the idea: stuck in bed, not allowed to train, not allowed to hunt –

He’d tried to mime the idea of doing some correspondence, since much of it was in fact urgent and he couldn’t even imagine how much of the endless work of being sect leader would pile up in the event of an elongated absence, and Nie Huaisang had thrown a fit, and also several teacups.

Apparently he wasn’t even allowed to do that.

Nie Mingjue sighed and sank back into the bed, briefly putting on an exaggerated pout that made Nie Zonghui laugh a little, the sound wet in his throat. But then, once he’d turned away and followed Nie Huaisang out the door, Nie Mingjue’s pout faded into a resigned sigh.

A little while later, he heard familiar voices at the door.

“ – came as soon as I could, of course,” Jin Guangyao was saying, sounding a little – amused? Long-suffering? What a strange emotion for him to openly display, given the circumstances. Even if he was enjoying someone’s misfortune, and Nie Mingjue knew that his sworn brother often did, he would normally be more tactful about expressing it. “Your missive wasn’t very clear about what the issue was, Huaisang.”

Well, that would explain it. If it was Nie Huaisang, being called to assist with a disaster might mean anything from the dramatic breaking of a fan to the even more dramatic prospect of being forced to actually do some work for once in his life. It very rarely referred to actual disaster.

There was the muffled sound of sobbing – it turned Nie Mingjue’s stomach to hear Nie Huaisang like that, but the last day or so had shown him that there was nothing he could do about it – and then some quiet discussion, too low to hear without trying, and Nie Mingjue had gotten some very stern lectures on how much he was not to try anything for a while.

The murmuring continued for a little, and then – “What?!”

A moment later, Jin Guangyao rushed into Nie Mingjue’s room, usual smile still frozen on his face and his eyes a little wider than usual. It was a refreshingly subdued reaction, Nie Mingjue thought: none of the wide-eyed teary eyes or drooped shoulders that usually accompanied Jin Guangyao’s demonstrations of upset feelings, the pity-me scenes that felt so staged now that Nie Mingjue knew what an able actor Jin Guangyao was.

This time, though, he seemed almost sincere.

Jin Guangyao stopped a few steps into the room, staring at where Nie Mingjue was lying, expression still frozen for a moment, and then the ice melted and the artifice returned, a look of sorrow and sympathy – look at how bad you’ve made me feel by being hurt like that – that made Nie Mingjue want to sigh. He’d been happier, their relationship better, before he’d gotten to peek under the mask Jin Guangyao wore, but it hadn’t been the truth, and he always preferred a hard truth over a soft lie.

“Oh, da-ge,” Jin Guangyao murmured. “Da-ge, poor da-ge…how are you feeling?”

Nie Mingjue said nothing, of course, and Jin Guangyao frowned.

“He can’t talk,” Nie Huaisang said, having followed him into the room. “His throat was nearly ripped out –”

For fuck’s sake, it was a scratch.

“– and he was almost entirely drained of his qi. I could barely feel his heartbeat when I arrived! And he hasn’t been acting like himself, either! I don’t know, I just – I don’t remember what it was like, la – last – last time –”

The tears were starting again, and Nie Mingjue tried to raise a hand to reach out to Nie Huaisang, wanting to comfort him, but something about the gesture made Nie Huaisang sob even harder and even Jin Guangyao looked a little taken aback, even a little stricken. Maybe it was the amount of effort it took for him to lift his hand, the way he had to stop and start the movement? The way his fingers trembled with the effort it took to keep it up in the air?

(His father hadn’t been like this at all. Maybe Nie Huaisang had been too young, Nie Zonghui too distant, but Nie Mingjue remembered it as if it were yesterday – there hadn’t been weakness, not like this. His father had been in a coma for three days and nights, and then he’d woken up. He’d seemed fine at first, not weak at all beyond the usual sluggishness that followed after a period of unconsciousness, and then he’d asked for his saber – and kept asking, no matter how many times they tried to explain –)

Baxia was fine.

The weakness was his own.

It wasn’t like that.

“How can I help?” Jin Guangyao asked. “Sect business –”

“I need someone to watch over him,” Nie Huaisang interrupted, wiping his eyes. “Someone who knows him well. He’s not…his reactions are all wrong. He goes into these dazes sometimes, doesn’t respond, and even when he seems present, he’s flinching at things that aren’t there or being nice and I just…I really can’t tell how much he’s really here or how much of it is reacting on, I don’t know, some sort of childhood instinct. So it has to be someone familiar with his habits, his likes and dislikes.”

Jin Guangyao was blinking rapidly. “And – me? You want me to...I was his deputy, yes, but – surely you or someone else in the Nie sect would be more appropriate?”

“Sect Leader Nie has always respected the differences between rank,” Nie Zonghui volunteered, voice low. “It would hurt his pride to be seen in such an undignified state by someone who wasn’t family.”

The blinking stopped, Jin Guangyao’s rapid thinking abruptly (and visibly) hitting a wall. “I’m – I’m not family.”

“You’re his sworn brother, aren’t you? That’s almost the same as being brothers, which makes you family,” Nie Huaisang said practically. “I’ve written to er-ge, too –”

He’d what?!

“Anyway, I know how good you are at managing things, but it wouldn’t really be appropriate for you to be involved in Nie sect business, would it? It might put you in an awkward situation, having to negotiate against your father.” Nie Huaisang gave Jin Guangyao another hug. “You just focus on taking care of da-ge, all right? I don’t want – if anyone found out, they could –”

He was going to start crying again, Nie Mingjue thought miserably, and wondered if people could die of dehydration by means of tears.

“Nothing will happen to your brother while he’s in my hands,” Jin Guangyao said, and Nie Mingjue even believed him. If there was one thing Jin Guangyao hated, it was being blamed for anything – even if he wanted Nie Mingjue dead, which Nie Mingjue was sure he did sometimes, he would never let it happen while he was the responsible party. Which was why it was something of a surprise that he was allowing himself to be made responsible. “It’ll be all right, Huaisang. You have to believe that.”

Nie Huaisang sniffed and finally wiped away his tears. “You’ll see what I mean soon enough,” he said ominously, and stalked out with Nie Zonghui a few steps behind, shooting Jin Guangyao an apologetic look as they left.

Nie Mingjue couldn’t tell if he agreed or disagreed with Nie Huaisang’s words.

“I hope da-ge doesn’t mind my forwardness in agreeing to help him,” Jin Guangyao said, coming closer to the bed to look down at him, his expression simpering and fake as it always was these days.

As much as that falsity annoyed him, how could Nie Mingjue mind? He knew, as Jin Guangyao did not, what his brother was afraid of; anything that could ease his brother’s mind, if only for a moment, was good.

(Why would Jin Guangyao agree to be the one responsible for him? A demon of such strength shouldn’t have been anywhere near Lanling. And this little outpost was nothing, unguarded, vulnerable; they didn’t have any defenses if Jin Guangshan decided to do something against them here, and yet Jin Guangyao willingly agreed –)

He couldn’t tell Jin Guangyao that he appreciated what he was doing and knew how hard it was, how much of a burden it was, so he reached out and caught his sleeve, tugging it lightly, and tried to smile at him.

It wasn’t any more successful than when he’d tried it on Nie Huaisang – less tears, but it made Jin Guangyao frown in a way that looked actually sincere, as if Nie Mingjue had done something incorrect – so he tugged on his sleeve again, like a child, until Jin Guangyao instinctively lifted his hand to stop him. Nie Mingjue exerted himself, caught it, and drew the words for an apology on his sworn brother’s palm.

My fault, he thought at Jin Guangyao, hoping that he’d understand. I’ve troubled you.

My fault.

It was his weakness. His family’s, his father’s, his own – why should others pay for it, the way he’d paid for his father’s? All he’d ever wanted was to keep them from having to go through that type of suffering.

Jin Guangyao’s hand was trembling, he suddenly noticed, and opened eyes that had slid shut with temporary exhaustion to look at Jin Guangyao again.

His sworn brother’s face had gone ashen, his lips pressed together tightly as if something was upsetting him.

“Da-ge?” he said, strangely hesitant, but Nie Mingjue didn’t understand what he was trying to ask him and was too tired to really try. He squeezed Jin Guangyao’s hand again and released him, letting his hand fall down to the bed.

He checked once again on Baxia.

She was fine. She was right there, their bond as strong as ever.

(“Where is my saber?” his father asked, rubbing his face. “Pass Jiwei to me, A-Jue, will you?”)

He shivered.

Opened his eyes.

The room had been reorganized, he noticed, and the light was different, although not too much – had he fallen asleep? He must have.

Well, he was still healing. It was normal.

“Da-ge!” Jin Guangyao was still there, too. “Can you hear me now?”

Nie Mingjue nodded.

“Good,” Jin Guangyao said, and seemed to even mean it. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

My saber, Nie Mingjue thought, and started shivering again, the room suddenly gone terribly cold even though he was under two layers of blankets already.

Baxia was fine. She was only out of his sight because they were fixing her – it was a small thing, nothing to a normal saber, easily repaired. It was only taking so long because they would have to find a good forge and bring over a smith familiar with spiritual weapons.

Baxia was fine.

He wouldn’t ask for her. He wouldn’t.

“– leader Nie! Look at me – can you hear me? Sect Leader Nie, Meng Yao has a question for you –”

Nie Mingjue turned his head with some difficulty and blinked at Jin Guangyao, who looked relieved. He’d used his old name for some reason, maybe to get Nie Mingjue’s attention, and even that much was a bit of a surprise. Jin Guangyao hated his old name, would prefer to pretend it had never existed, and this was the first time Nie Mingjue had heard it from his lips since the ceremony in which he’d received the new one.

“Good,” Jin Guangyao murmured, seeing him. “Good – yes, da-ge. You’re back. Good. Look at me.”

Nie Mingjue tried to mouth the word ‘question’ at him, but it felt like it was impossible to communicate properly. The lack of language frustrated him immensely, even if the usual anger that was always so quick to leap to his side at the first instance of such frustration didn’t come, too buried beneath the fear.

Luckily, Jin Guangyao was quick and smart and after a few moments seemed to understand. “Oh, ah, the question? Yes. That. Ah...I wanted to know if there was something you wanted.”

My saber.

Nie Mingjue shivered.

Baxia was fine.

“I rearranged the room to your preferences –” He had, too. Even the light fell differently. “– but I’m not sure what else I can get for you that you might need or enjoy.”

Nie Mingjue considered trying to ask for correspondence again, something to do that would be useful, but quickly realized the futility of that. Still, he didn’t really do anything else, other than work; he’d long ago given up all his old hobbies in favor of his duties, being sect leader and training himself for war and eventually war itself, and even he didn’t remember what they were anymore.

“As da-ge knows, he has always been a mystery to me,” Jin Guangyao added, a little bit of self-depreciating humor in his words. That old joke between them (had it been a joke?), about how Meng Yao would constantly be trying to figure out what Nie Mingjue liked so that he could serve him better and Nie Mingjue constantly being disinterested in every vice he tried to present him with…after everything, Nie Mingjue had started to wonder if it hadn’t been a joke at all, if Meng Yao had been truly frustrated by the fact that he couldn’t find any chink in his armor, a weakness he could exploit to hold over his head.

He was so weak now, though, and yet Jin Guangyao made the same joke.

Was there anything, really, for him to do? Jin Guangyao must be terribly bored, forced to be a babysitter for a man who couldn’t even speak to convey his wishes, and wouldn’t –

Actually, now what he thought about it, there was something.

Nie Mingjue lifted his fingers and twisted them into the hand sign they’d used during the Sunshot Campaign to mean ‘break camp’.

Jin Guangyao stared at him blankly.

He made the sign again, hoping to convey meaning. There wasn’t anything in the room he could point to, and he’d never been especially talented at pantomime, yet surely Jin Guangyao with his quick mind would be able to puzzle it out – every time he made that sign, they would stop moving, set up the tents, and the first thing he’d want, every time it was possible, was –

“A bath?” Jin Guangyao asked, and Nie Mingjue nodded in relief. “I’ll order one set up right away. Anything else?”

Nie Mingjue pointed to the pile of his clothing that was now neatly folded up on a nearby table – and much reduced, by the look of it. Not a surprise. The always-efficient Jin Guangyao would have sent the worst pieces, the ones that had been cut off his body by the doctors, away to be retailored.

Jin Guangyao frowned at it. “You want to get dressed? No…to get ready to receive visitors?”

Nie Mingjue nodded.

“Why? Who are you expecting?”

After some contemplation, Nie Mingjue held up two fingers.

Jin Guangyao blinked.

Sighing, Nie Mingjue pointed at himself – one finger – and at Jin Guangyao – three fingers – and then held up two again.

“…you want to get bathed and dressed before er-ge arrives?”

It was so good to have someone by his side that understood him. Losing his trust in Meng Yao’s character had always been the worst part of that entire experience, the realization that the person he’d thought was a friend had never existed but had instead been deliberately manufactured to match his tastes, but losing the help of such a competent deputy hadn’t been great, either.

“Da-ge, are you sure?”

Nie Mingjue nodded. He couldn’t let Lan Xichen see him like this – the Nie and Lan sects had always been closer allies than they’d been with the others, and they’d been friends since childhood. While not physically present, Lan Xichen had seen some glimpses of what Nie Mingjue had gone through when his father had been dying, and again right after he’d died.

He’d been the one to whom Nie Huaisang had revealed that one letter that Nie Mingjue had thought he’d burned, the one that he hadn’t actually intended on ever using, the one that laid out what he’d say if he were to say goodbye – it had only been theoretical, a way to get out frustration. He would never have been so selfish as to let the awful burden that had fallen on his shoulders fall in turn on Nie Huaisang.

But Lan Xichen hadn’t really believed him back then, when he’d explained that he didn’t mean it, that he didn’t have any plans to do anything that would make such a goodbye necessary. He’d worried himself sick over him back then.

He’d worry now.

Nie Mingjue knew Lan Xichen loved him, he did, even if sometimes recently he felt that Lan Xichen might take him a little for granted. Lan Xichen loved him, so Lan Xichen would worry about him, but Lan Xichen also expressed his worries through trying to fix things.

He didn’t want to have to deal with that right now. There was nothing that needed to be fixed – Baxia was fine, he was fine, it was just a matter of healing for him and a bit of reforging for her.

It was fine.

“Da-ge, the bath is ready.”

Nie Mingjue pulled himself back out of trying to check on his bond with Baxia again to find that it was, steaming and hot; the servants must have moved it in while he wasn’t paying attention and then departed again. He tried to pull himself up to sit, but Jin Guangyao pressed down on his shoulder with surprising strength.

“Let me help you, da-ge,” he said, and Nie Mingjue graciously didn’t call him out on how much he was clearly enjoying himself. It was nice to think that part of that enjoyment was in helping him, as opposed to merely being in a position of power, but it was so hard to tell with Jin Guangyao – he wasn’t even sure the man himself knew which it was.

Shakily, with Jin Guangyao’s assistance, he sat up, and put his feet on the ground, only to have to wait while Jin Guangyao fussed around removing the acupuncture needles that had been left behind, murmuring something about having gotten the doctors’ approval. After that was done, Jin Guangyao helped him painstakingly totter over to the bathtub – his sworn brother might have only mediocre cultivation, but he was still stronger than Nie Mingjue was now, with his qi depleted and his battered body little more than dead weight. Nie Mingjue was as dependent on him as a small child on their parent. Once there, he helped brace him against the wall, helped remove his inner robes, and finally, blissfully, helped him slide into the bathtub.

“Da-ge has so many scars,” Jin Guangyao said, and Nie Mingjue looked at him.

Jin Guangyao was studying him with a strange expression on his face. He hadn’t allowed him to assist him with bathing before, Nie Mingjue recalled; he had been trying to maintain a divide between personal servants and military hierarchy, and Jin Guangyao – Meng Yao, then – had been a guest disciple, not a servant. Even when there were no personal servants to be had and Jin Guangyao had offered, Nie Mingjue had refused, not wanting his deputy to feel as though he were being looked down upon.

Still, it wasn’t as though the man hadn’t seen his bare chest before – there had been times on campaign when a bath hadn’t been possible, only a quick dip in the river to wash off the blood, and Jin Guangyao had even helped stitch him up a few times when an enemy’s blade had struck true and the doctors were busy elsewhere – so Nie Mingjue wasn’t sure what was drawing his interest this time.

Normally, he would have asked.

Normally, he would have gotten angry at the presumption, less because of the violation of social norms than because he was embarrassed, and when he was embarrassed he got angry. That was his temperament, the way he’d been raised, always defaulting to anger instead of other, less comfortable emotions, and he’d tried very hard to avoid passing along those habits to Nie Huaisang. He hoped one day to see Nie Huaisang teaching children of his own with new habits, different habits – for his little brother to scold him for being a bad example to the younger generation, for him to have a reason to try harder to be better.

He couldn’t ask now, and there was no point in being angry. Or embarrassed, for that matter.

Jin Guangyao’s hand came to his shoulder, and then slid down to his chest, the pressure of his fingers light and barely present. There was nothing sexual or threatening in the gesture, simply curiosity.

“So many new scars,” Jin Guangyao murmured, and Nie Mingjue looked down at his chest: raised red lines all over, old injuries scabbed over and scarred and healing. His cultivation was at such a high level that even scars eventually faded away, but many of these were too new. The marks of a knife, a sword, a whip, the remnants of blunt weapons that hit so many times that they pierced skin, even the indentation of human nails driven in deep…

The worst of it was his left side, right above his ribs, where the knife marks were precise and orderly, triangles of flesh cut like fletching; he had made a habit of not looking at himself there, yet that was where Jin Guangyao’s fingers went.

“How did this happen, da-ge?” he asked, staring, his gaze unnervingly intent. “Who tried to skin you alive?”

Nie Mingjue didn’t understand the question. He pointed at Jin Guangyao.

“What?” Jin Guangyao asked, not understanding. “Do you want me to get you something?”

Nie Mingjue shook his head. He pointed again, this time at his side at the place he preferred not to think about, and then once again at Jin Guangyao himself.

Jin Guangyao stared back at him, blank for a moment until he understood, and then he visibly flinched. “Me?” he said, his voice rising an octave. “No, I didn’t –”

It hadn’t been him directly, no, but the person who had done it had been his student – had boasted about being trained by Wen Ruohan’s chief torturer, the inventor of all those terrible machines that they’d heard rumors of, some of which they’d brought out to show him through intimate demonstration – the sick feeling in Nie Mingjue’s stomach when he’d found Meng Yao standing above him, smiling, and realized that the person that had been spoken of was him…

It might as well have been him that did it.

“I hadn’t realized,” Jin Guangyao said. His fingers had fallen to the edge of the tub, holding on until his knuckles were white. Anger, Nie Mingjue thought with the experience of a connoisseur, but he didn’t understand why it would make Jin Guangyao angry. “They shouldn’t have touched you. They weren’t allowed –”

Nie Mingjue didn’t especially want to hear any more of Jin Guangyao’s excuses – there were always excuses, he’d found, and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t forgiven him for it already, or did Jin Guangyao think that he’d sworn brotherhood for nothing? – so he closed his eyes and let himself sink down into the water until it was over his head.

It was peaceful under the water, disconnected from the rest of the world. He didn’t have to think about Jin Guangyao ordering his torture and then covering it up, or maybe even ordering them not to do it but not keeping close enough watch to prevent it; he didn’t have to think about all the people that Jin Guangyao couldn’t use, the ones that didn’t get the benefit of such an order.

He didn’t have to think about all those feet kicking his Baxia like she was a dog they wanted to put down, or Meng Yao holding her in his hands and asking him how many slaps he thought it would take until she shattered the way Jiwei had shattered, or the invitation to go night-hunting at Lanling that led him straight to a demon that knew exactly where to strike –

Baxia was fine, he reminded himself. Fine.

Hands abruptly appeared in front of his eyes, bursting into the underwater scene in a frenzy of bubbles, catching him around the shoulders and pulling him up into the air to see Jin Guangyao’s white face and hear him shouting, “Are you mad, staying under for so long?! You’re not a fish; you can’t breathe water!”

Nie Mingjue blinked at him.

“You’re no Jiang sect child of the river,” Jin Guangyao scolded. “What’s wrong with you? Do you not want to live anymore?”

(“Stop stalling and get me my saber!” his father roared, his hand lashing out too quick for Nie Mingjue to avoid, the full-force blow sending him staggering and breaking something inside of him in more ways than just the physical. “Do you not want to live anymore?”)

Nie Mingjue missed the water already.

Jin Guangyao’s fingers tightened on his shoulders. “You’re not allowed to go, da-ge,” he said. “Not when I just realized that I want to keep you around.”

Nie Mingjue shook his head, realizing that Jin Guangyao had misunderstood his silence. It wasn’t that he wanted to die, he wouldn’t do that to Nie Huaisang, but that sometimes he didn’t know if he would be able to stay.

Baxia was fine – wasn’t she?

“Just don’t move, all right?” Jin Guangyao huffed, and settled down behind him. He found some soap and began scrubbing at Nie Mingjue’s skin as if he were a piece of laundry, although he didn’t use enough pressure for it to actually hurt. The repetitive movements were soothing, lulling him to relax – especially when Jin Guangyao, grumbling something about stress, jabbed him repeatedly in certain acupoints to force his muscles to release stored-up tension – and after a little while Jin Guangyao stopped being so rough.

“Huaisang was right,” he said after a while, having shifted over to running his fingers through Nie Mingjue’s hair as if he were a child, carefully detangling each knot he encountered. “You really are acting far too nice. Shouldn’t you be scolding me for overstepping?”

Nie Mingjue shook his head lightly, careful not to jostle Jin Guangyao’s hand.

“No? Then something else, surely. Where’s your anger, da-ge?”

Nie Mingjue looked down at his hands, his saber hand instinctively curling up to grasp a hilt that was no longer there. It looked wrong to see them like this, empty.

(“Where is my saber?” his father cried out. “My saber – my saber!”)

He wasn’t his father.

That he would die of a qi deviation, die young, years before his time – this he had accepted. But he would not die the way his father died, angry, lashing out at all the ones he loved most, not if he could do anything about it.

Maybe in the future, when he lost himself fully, he would become a resentful ghost in human flesh, a raging monster fit only for slaughtering – if his thoughts themselves had already begun to lie to him, to drip poison into his ears and into his heart, if despite everything Baxia was actually gone and he was already dead and he just hadn’t realized it yet –

For as long as he could manage, Nie Mingjue wouldn’t let himself be angry.

Did he still doubt Jin Guangyao? Yes, of course. But what good would it do to suspect him now? If he tried to accuse him, even he wouldn’t believe his own testimony.

(“- they say your father died of rage –”)

“Come on, then,” Jin Guangyao said, coaxing him like a child, and his hands as he helped him out of the bath were almost gentle. “I’ve got you some new robes. I’ll help you into them.”

Nie Mingjue caught his hand.

“Da-ge? Do you want something?”

My saber. Where is my saber?

He shook his head and let Jin Guangyao help him back to the bed. He sat heavily there and stared at his hands as Jin Guangyao wrapped him in a new set of robes – his own, he thought, but he couldn’t tell if it was the extra set he’d brought with him to Lanling or if it’d been brought from the Unclean Realm.

Was there enough time for someone to come from the Unclean Realm? They had smiths there, and forges –

Where is my saber?

He stared at himself in the mirror, Jin Guangyao lingering behind him, and closed his eyes.

Like all cultivators, especially good cultivators, Nie Mingjue had a very good understanding of his spiritual energy, the way his qi moved through his meridians and settled in his dantian. He felt it every time he cultivated. His spiritual energy was drained dry right now, but if he really pushed and strained himself, he could squeeze up a small droplet of qi and guide it through the whole cultivation sequence. He could watch it carefully, wait for it to hit the place where he connected with Baxia – where he could feel her, echoing back at him. Intact.

She was fine.

She was.

She had to be.

Nie Mingjue felt someone start to braid his hair and frowned a little: perfect memory or not, he didn’t think Jin Guangyao knew the right braids. There were very subtle nuances to the ones he wore, significant ones; copying another version of his own hairstyle might be making a grievous error. He’d been wearing war-braids almost the entire time they’d known each other, after all…

He opened his eyes.

It wasn’t Jin Guangyao behind him.

“Welcome back, da-ge,” Lan Xichen said. His eyes were red around the edges, as if he’d been crying, or trying very hard to keep from doing so. “How are you feeling?”

Empty, lost, afraid – oh, Xichen, I’m so very afraid –

“Huaisang said to tell you that if you don’t stop doing whatever it is that’s keeping your qi drained, he’ll lock your spiritual energy away,” Lan Xichen said after a few moments, when it became clear that Nie Mingjue wasn’t going to respond. “And I have to say, I agree with him.”

Nie Mingjue lowered his head, feeling guilty. He shouldn’t be causing them any more worry than they already had – Nie Huaisang’s eyes were never empty of tears, and it was all his fault.

“You need your spiritual energy to recover if you want to heal,” Lan Xichen said. His hands did not falter as he made the braids – the right ones, too, a sect leader at peace who was in temporary retreat due to ill health. “And you will heal, da-ge. We’ll do everything that we can to help you.”

Nie Mingjue’s shoulders slumped. That was a familiar refrain by now, and his eyes drifted down in the mirror in front of him to look at Liebing, tucked away in Lan Xichen’s belt as always – Lan Xichen would want him to meditate while he played, no doubt. As far as Nie Mingjue knew, there was no guqin here for him to play Clarity, but there were other songs available.

“I’ve asked Wangji if he would play something calming for you, if you think it would help, but I won’t force you,” Lan Xichen said, and Nie Mingjue raised his eyes to meet his in the mirror, surprised. His old friend tried to smile but didn’t quite succeed. “I’m not entirely up to doing it myself, I’m afraid. Liebing requires perfect control of breath, and I’m…”

He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them once more.

“Do you know how much I’d miss you, da-ge?” he asked, voice low. “How much emptier my life would be without knowing that you were there? And not just me – all of us.”

Nie Mingjue didn’t know what to say.

“There’s Huaisang, of course, but you know that. Your sect, your family…even A-Yao has been unusually upset about the idea of something more happening to you, he was engaging Nie Zonghui in a conversation about the defenses in place here in the event someone tried something last I saw. Wangji dropped everything to come rushing here when I wrote to him, and – you’ll never believe this – Wei Wuxian himself followed him here, asking about your health.”

Wei Wuxian? Here, so close to Lanling? That was a terrible idea.

“He’s being careful,” Lan Xichen assured him. “He went with Wangji and Jiang Wanyin to examine the site of the night-hunt – they’re saying it’s suspicious that a demon of that power managed to end up this close to Lanling, especially undetected, with you going in without any warning and the demon targeting you in such a specific way.”

It was suspicious. Also, Jiang Wanyin was here?

“I don’t know how he found out, he just showed up here,” Lan Xichen said. “I think Nie Huaisang might have written to him? Either way, he wanted to help.”

Nie Mingjue’s brow wrinkled.

“If you’re wondering why, it’s because he respects and admires you,” Lan Xichen said. “You helped him so much during the war; he wants to repay you…everyone does. You’ve done so much for all of us.”

Nie Mingjue shrugged. He really hadn’t – he’d only done what he’d need to, nothing more.

“You mean so much to all of us,” Lan Xichen murmured, finishing the braids and putting his hands on Nie Mingjue’s shoulders. “Oh, da-ge. Please hold on for us.”

(He thought of how his father looked at the end, gurgling on his own blood, red seeping out of his eyes and ears and nose as well and looking almost relieved to be going – relieved that his endless nightmare would finally come to an end, that he could rest at last in his grave…)

Nie Mingjue nodded and ducked his head to hide the tears brimming in his own eyes.

He’d stop checking, he promised silently. Baxia was fine, he thought, or maybe she wasn’t, but he hadn’t yet lost his mind, hadn’t yet started lashing out, and all those he loved were here by his side, ready to support him and help him however they could, if they could.

He would need to have faith.

He was still afraid, terribly afraid, but – he would, he could, rely on others to help support him, when he couldn’t support himself.

They wouldn’t let his anger eat him alive, and so he couldn’t let his fear do the same.

Nie Mingjue raised his hand and covered one of Lan Xichen’s with it.

He licked his lips, swallowed.

Forcing himself to speak felt like trying to break the Lan silencing spell, but he had to do it.

“Xichen,” he croaked, voice barely audible. “…Baxia?”

Where is my saber?

Lan Xichen’s hands tightened on his shoulders.

“Repaired,” his friend promised him. “Reforged by the finest spiritual smith in Qinghe. Huaisang is on his way to bring her to you now.”

Nie Mingue smiled.

A shichen later, Nie Huaisang pressed Baxia’s hilt into his hand, expression worried, all of them worried, all of them staring at him to see what would happen as he held his saber and carefully pressed some little, tiny part of the spiritual energy he’d been saving up into her.

Baxia sang out her song, bright and clear and unblemished, full of righteousness and rage.

Nie Mingjue closed his eyes and wept in relief.

She was fine.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #lan xichen #my fic #my fics #fine #ebonykain

353 notes · View notes

uwurakax · 4 years ago

Text

i wanna make her mine ♡

pairing: iwaizumi x f!reader (oikawa x f!reader) ♡

genre: angst // unrequited love // iwa’s in love with his best friends girl yay // love triangle(ish?) ♡

summary: he knew it was wrong, but iwaizumi hajime couldn’t help the fact that he was in love with his best friends girl ♡

word count: 1.9k ♡

author’s note: it’s not super angst, just a little bit (i wasn’t in the angst feels but i like it - a little lolol oops). someone needs to take youtube away from me from listening to these songs ✌️😭 as always its not proofread, so any mistakes yIKES ty for coming (also crappy writing due to writing this at 5am no sleep as always) 🌚 ♡

♡ (inspired by jessie’s girl by rick springfield) ♡

Iwaizumi Hajime is a good friend. Despite his intimidating stature and the frown lines that decorate his brow, he really was a kind and considerate guy; in his own way of course. Did he yell and raise his voice? Did he get violent with a certain pretty best friend of his? Of course, it’s just how Iwaizumi was. However ask his teammates and fellow peers and they’d tell you how loyal he is, how he always looked out for his friends. How he always put them first.

No one believed this more than said pretty boy best friend, Oikawa Tōru. Although the setter, and captain of their volleyball team, always complained about his ‘brutish friend’, he couldn’t deny that he did appreciate his childhood friends support and constant worry. As mean and as violent as Iwaizumi could get with him, Oikawa knew that deep down he was caring and looking out for him in his own manner.

“Hey, make sure you don’t stay up all night”

“If you catch a cold, I’m going to punch you”

Yes, those around him would say that Iwaizumi Hajime is a great guy and a good best friend, even if he was a ‘bit of a brute’. Though if you were to ask Iwaizumi himself, he’d wholeheartedly disagree with you. Why would he? Well, the answer is very simple.

Iwaizumi Hajime is in love with his best friends girlfriend.

It went against every moral compass implemented by humans. Against every bro-code created by men decades before him. He knew it was wrong, completely and utterly wrong. He knew he’d never do that to you, and he’d most definitely never do that to Oikawa; but Iwaizumi couldn’t help how he felt in the slightest. If he could, he’d tear up every emotion of affection he had towards you.

But unfortunately for Iwaizumi, he couldn’t.

This wasn’t some vampire TV show. He couldn’t turn off his emotions or humanity, no matter how much he wanted to; and by God did Iwaizumi want to. So badly. It was sick and twisted, the feelings he had for you.

L/N, Y/N. A fellow third year student at Aoba Johsai High School, Class 5. It was like fate had it out for him. He had the unfortunate pleasure of not just being in the same class as you, but seated in the desk right next to yours as well.

Life truly was cruel.

In this entire school, in the entire prefecture, the entirety of Japan, hell even of all freaking Earth, it just had to be you. Why, oh why did it have to be you?

Why did you have to fall in love with his best friend? And why did he have to fall in love with you?

It wasn’t like Iwaizumi didn’t want Oikawa to be happy. On the contrary, Iwaizumi never wanted Oikawa to be upset. He rarely saw the pretty setter truly smile, always opting to charm his way with a toothy grin, no matter who was on the receiving end. Iwaizumi knew, and could easily see through his deceptive smirk. He noticed, however, that he never used that smile around you.

Iwaizumi only ever saw Oikawa’s real smile around you. He could see that his best friend never needed to fake anything around you. Everything about you just radiated goodness, honestly and truth. It was probably why Oikawa never wanted to pretend with you.

And it only ever made it harder for Iwaizumi to hide his feelings from you.

He’d watch the way you’d come into practice, immediately greeting everyone, and then eagerly run towards your boyfriend.

“Tōru, have you been over exerting yourself again?”

It wasn’t anything new, especially not to Iwaizumi. Oikawa always had a tendency to push his body over its limits. It was why the ace usually got violent with the setter; he’d never listen otherwise. He knew the drill, it was like clockwork. Oikawa would swear up and down that he didn’t, despite the grimace he tried to hide. He was such a natural actor, anybody else would be fooled by his performance. Not you though, he could never fool you, and Oikawa could never fool Iwaizumi. You both saw through him easily, but you knew how he’d be, and there was only one way to get him to listen.

“Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi wasn’t particularly fond of the nickname Oikawa had given him when they were children. He daresay he didn’t really care for it at all, Oikawa seemed a bit too old to still be using such a cute and childish nickname. Oikawa was stubborn though, and through the years, he just got used to it. No, Iwaizumi wasn’t keen on the nickname, but when it fell from your lips he suddenly didn’t mind it at all.

He’d look over at you and see you pout, almost demanding to know if Oikawa was overdoing it. Iwaizumi had gotten so used to it, your words barely registered anymore. It was one of the off chances where you looked at Iwaizumi and he could look at you, and not feel guilty about it. As much as he hated the damage Oikawa would do to his own body, he couldn’t help but think it was a small blessing in disguise from the universe. For Iwaizumi didn’t need to listen to you so intently like he did the first few times. Nowadays, he could just enjoy just looking at you without it being ‘weird’ or ‘creepy’.

The way you pouted, crossed your arms, scrunched up your face and spilled words of concern over his best friend, your boyfriend. You were so cute, so beautiful. He couldn’t help but wish that he was the one you’d worry over instead.

These little interactions, however brief, were enough for Iwaizumi. He knew they wouldn’t last forever, knew you were only here while you guys were still in high school. Knew that once you all graduated, he’d never see you daily. Iwaizumi couldn’t decide on whether that was a good or bad thing, but while you both had these exchanges, he’d savour every moment.

And so Iwaizumi would say what he always did. Complain back that ‘Shittykawa’ wouldn’t listen to him, that he was so stubborn, that you’d need to talk sense into him, because he’d never listen to anyone else like he did you. Honestly who could blame Oikawa? Iwaizumi is sure that if you asked him to travel to the ends of the earth, he would do it in a heartbeat.

After practice is over, Iwaizumi grabs his water bottle, quickly chugging down the much needed liquid. He was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t notice you make your way towards him. Not until you’re right in front of him. Your presence startles him, and you’re just so close. His hands start to sweat, heart accelerating and he can feel the blood rush quickly to his face. His heartbeat rings loudly in his ears, and he’s surprised he can even hear you over the deafening drumming.

“Hey Iwa, are you alright? Your face is all red”

Iwaizumi curses mentally to himself when he feels the back of your hand press to his forehead. Your skin felt so smooth and cool against his. He knows he’ll never be able to feel it again, and his heart sinks at the thought. You’ll never know it, and he’ll never tell, but Iwaizumi makes a mental note of this moment, wanting to ingrain it in his body and soul forever.

This will be one of Iwaizumi Hajime’s most cherished memories.

Iwaizumi gently takes your wrist and reluctantly pushes it away from his face. He inhales deeply, his body already missing your comforting touch.

“You feel hot, could be a fever?”

He lightly chuckles, trying to release the tension pent up in his body.

“No, it’s obviously just from practice. Of course I’m all hot and red, that’s what exercise does to you, dumbass”

With surprising softness, he flicks your forehead. It’s not enough to hurt, not in the slightest; but it’s enough to have you embarrassed.

“Y-yeah yeah, whatever. Iwa-chan”

Iwaizumi notices your nervousness and he swears to himself. It was disgusting, you’re his best friends girlfriend; but he just can’t help the thoughts of wishing he was the one that got to see that face more often.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine. I gotta go help clean up, so I’ll see you later”

Oikawa was good at playing pretend, he had years of practice. No one knew that his best friend was a great pretender too.

It finally reaches the time where Iwaizumi can go home, and of course to his luck, he had to walk with Oikawa and you. You know how awkward it is to be the third wheel, and Iwaizumi is thankful of how considerate you are. It’s too bad his best friend wasn’t the same way.

He’ll watch you and Oikawa hold hands, smile and steal occasional quick pecks while you think he isn’t looking. Of course he see’s it though, he can’t help but look at you. At one point during your nightly stroll, you’ll shiver from the cold, and Iwaizumi so desperately wishes he could hold you, wrap his arms around you for warmth, but he knows he can’t.

So he just watches as Oikawa takes out his volleyball jacket and drapes it over you. You look good in white and teal, Iwaizumi thinks to himself. He hates how cute you look in it, and he feels his heart crack a little when you snuggle into it, sniffing the collar and inhaling Oikawa’s scent.

He tunes out the conversations you two are having, silently praying that you three can part ways at the next street. The sweet love confessions pouring out of both you and Oikawa taking a toll on Iwaizumi’s fragile heart.

You all finally make it to the crossroads where you part, the trio now to soon be a duo and a solo. Two’s company and three’s a crowd. It had never felt more truer than when he was with the two of you.

He’ll smile, make a joke about how he finally gets to go, being free of the nauseating presence of two lovers. You’ll roll your eyes and Oikawa will just refute with ‘Iwa-chan, you’re just jealous’. Oikawa has no idea how right he is.

So he goes, leaving behind the two of you at the corner. Iwaizumi takes a few steps and looks back, thinking he’d see your retreating form, but he doesn’t. He see’s you and Oikawa, still rooted in the corner, looking at each other with such love and admiration. Oikawa then leans down and kisses you deeply. You throw your arms around his neck, deepening it even further. Iwaizumi is no longer there, there’s no more prying eyes. The two of you didn’t need to pretend. You could freely express your love, no longer having to steal chaste kisses so your friend wouldn’t feel out of place.

Iwaizumi looks on and smiles sadly, before turning back around and making his way home. Oikawa Tōru was a natural actor, but so was Iwaizumi Hajime. Iwaizumi could fool everyone into thinking he was a good friend. No one would ever know he was secretly in love with his best friends girlfriend.

And no one would know how absolutely shattered his heart was every time he’d see the both of you together.

#haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi angst #haikyuu angst #hq angst #haikyuu!! angst #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x y/n

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cryptiql · 3 years ago

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untitled god song

pairing: bakugou/m!reader (trans reader in mind you can see it if you squint but can also be read as cis)

words: 2k

warnings: themes of religious trauma, homophobia, mentions of blood, the author projecting their mommy issues

a/n: this is purely self indulgent, don't mind me 😩✋ (written in first person)

i wish i had known him before the pain started. perhaps it is a fools dream to think that his presence would have solved anything, and it is likely that he might blown me sky high at the time, if given the chance, but i often ponder his place in my narrative. he is nothing less than a king—nay, a god—and what else am i to be except his humble servant, adoring him in the only way i've been taught?

i would bruise my knees as i kneel for him, and should he turn me away, i shall be lost and without purpose. but he does not, and instead, he snorts out a laugh and pulls me to my feet, roughly squeezing my cheeks together with a shit-eating grin. he'll tell me a joke i've heard a thousand times, and yet i laugh with him anyways, the pads of my fingers idly tapping the pulse on his wrists.

"dumbass, at least take me out to dinner first."

i never thought i'd ache to hear such a demeaning nickname, but it's like birdsong to my ears, and i long for the myriad of butterflies it provokes.

i would heed his every word like a faithful disciple, and—if i knew he would not use this power for the wrong reasons—carry it out without question. he'll roll his eyes at the notion, far too prideful at the idea of being praised, and card hands through my hair, gripping softly. "right. and if i told you to go to bed before five in the morning, would you listen?"

my smiles are genuine, as they all are with him.

"no." i wish my mother had been more open-minded; more loving to those she claimed were goners. maybe then, i could still call her my mother, and not a snarled version of her first name steeped in vinegar. maybe she could have met him, and maybe she would have keeled over in the process, but that is how we put it "killing two birds with one stone".

he was a fallen angel if ever i saw one—emblazoned in smog and ravenous inferno, the pieces of child-like innocence turning to ash. something happened to him when he was a kid, just as all gifted children, and oh, what a fool i was to let my gaze dawdle on his gorgeous form. but i will never regret it—no, not ever—for there is no such feeling that can compare to his eyes on mine, burning with a mind-fogging intensity.

it was instantaneous, the moment my thoughts turned on me with malicious intent, her voice ringing out like a gunshot.

you'll never be him.

his hand slots with mine perfectly; deliciously warm and comforting in a way i haven't felt in years; and hauls me up, the flecks of dirt and rubble from the road clinging to my jeans.

"watch it, pretty boy. i won't always be here to save you, y'know."

my heart batters against my ribs like a caged bird, screeching and wailing to be set free, and i wonder in a haze if i've died. judgement day must have come early, i think, not realizing that it was spoken aloud until the blonde quirks a brow inquisitively. he does not speak on the matter, but continues on his merry way, leaving my helpless; hopelessly enamored; and praying that we will meet again.

no, i could never be him. but i am like him. he has a sureness in his walk and fervor in the way he talks that is only recognizable when i look in the mirror. and we do meet again. it is a shame, however, that i must burden him with the weight of my past. i remember too often the troubles of my youth, even when all has passed into fleeting memories that haunt me as ghosts do to an abandoned house. yet, i still live in this house, and the ghosts are here to keep me company.

i remember the church, first and foremost; nestled between the barren country road and the outback; a beacon of hope to all those who stood in its doors. the luster of freshly polished wood still sits in my mind, accompanied by the echoing remnants of dulcet tones and multicolored bands of light, glaring from the stained glass windows and dancing across the musty carpet floor. the doddering pews were just as uncomfortable as the poorly padded chairs squatting in the front row, but every sunday, they were filled to the brim with hungry worshippers. they sang praise as though they were starved, but i was too young to understand for what. i am older now, and i still don't understand. all i know is that despite its reputation, the church was a cursed place, and i should never set foot in it again lest i go mad. i remember the creaking stairs which lead downstairs, and the winding halls that reeked of torment where shadows loomed. the paint was corroding and foul, and my conscious always loitered too long on the merlot stain on the ceiling; its origin unknown, but nevertheless urging my stomach to twist with nausea.

i remember the feeling of tall grass grazing my ankles; itching horribly from the old moth-eaten socks i was forced to wear. it had become second nature—running and hiding from my problems, from the church, from her. i shall never know a greater animosity than the likes that my mother encouraged, although unintentionally, with her pressuring views and sickeningly sweet smile. it's fake, and i would know, because ours are the same.

we are too similar, and i am sickened by the fact. will i become the wretched woman she is? will i fail to be the father i've dreamt of being? it is an easy thing to fall prey to haunting questions, and it serves as brain rot for every moment of silence that leaves me clawing at my skin, trying to reap the memory of her touch. then i began to think—about nothing and everything—and it does not stop. i will be kind; unforgivingly so, and without biased judgement; like my mother never was, and i'll make her hate me for it. i will grow in leaps and bounds, not for her sake or for god's, but for mine, as it always should have been. i will drink and curse with reckless abandon and kiss who i damn well please, because in no life does she have have the power to make me something i'm not. why should i feel sorry when the tears she wept were forged by my own blood; by the childhood memories locked away to rot in my subconscious? yes, she has suffered too, but it is through clenched teeth and raw-bitten lips that i must confess this, for her suffering was born in me and grew from a seedling into a thorned flower, nourished by her hatred and mine. she'll tell me the lie of all mothers before her: that she knows best, and i'll never know joy that is not from my savior's gracious hands.

one day, when she lies not with words but in silence, under worm-filled earth and withering pastures, i'll tell her that she was right. i'll tell her, with his hand in mine, that my savior arrived with hellfire in his eyes and fury unrelenting. his tongue holds venom that would make the devil blush, but he tastes of a sinful sweetness that i've drowned in more times than i care to count.

mother you should know, my god is like no other. he has a broad chest and muscles, i attest, that are sculpted like fine marble and smooth to the test.

my god is a man who loves other men, unashamedly; in all that is true; and kisses me like real people do. and i know it sounds silly, and a bit cliché, and he'd surely make a mockery of me if ever he heard, but i love him. i love him as passionately as you she does lord above, and it is a crime in itself how much i crave him, so yes, i will burn for this—not because my mother said so or by the ancient script that foretells it, but because i promise it. i promise to let neither hell or high water deter me from that which gives me life, and i'll do so with a ring.

"you hear that mom?" i'll whisper in the dead of night, his body flushed against mine in the most delightful way; his fingers curled into my nightshirt, pulling me closer as listless mumbles fall from his parted lips. he is dead to the world amid his dream ridden stupor, but still leans into my touch when i smooth back the wild tufts of hair to kiss his forehead.

"i'm gonna marry him." part of me wishes she didn't live on the other side of the planet, just so i could rub it in her face, but i won't give her the satisfaction of seeing me again. i won't let her think she's won, because i know, and katsuki knows, that he and i are one in the same.

i do not know who i should thank for my stubbornness, be it my mother or my father, so i will thank the pain they both caused me, for it made me stronger than they ever could. no, i did not become a better person, because the scars have yet to heal from how deep they cut, and the smell of blood still lingers, and i am angrier than i once was, but i cherish my wounds. the stench of my agony has long since been subdued, and i have learned to swallow the sickness it evokes. and yes, this anger is unhealthy and i've chosen not to purge it from my mind like the weed it is, but how lucky am i to have found one whose malice rivals my own?

the tales of his glory have littered my notebooks in smudged ink. you would hate him, is scrawled messily on the last page, but i only feel giddy with excitement. you would hate him for his spite and his unapologetic behavior, and that is why he's perfect. he's everything you hate about this world, but everything i love.

so when she gets to heaven and asks the angels "why?", they'll tell her it was him who made the devil cry. him, who held me like she should have—could have, if she hadn't terrified me—and who chased the nightmarish visions of her from my weary mind with his callous palms and soft-spoken reassurances. i wish i had known him when we were young; when things were not so simple and i needed a hand to hold; but i suppose we'll have to settle for faded photographs and stories told through the bitter aroma of alcohol. that's more than enough, i muse to myself, legs hooked over his as i rest my head on his shoulder, keening softly at the gentle scrape of his nails on my scalp. his arms wind around my waist as he mutters something along the lines of "i love you", his lips curling into a smile, illuminated by the televisions glow.

so when they ask of my religion, i will think of only him. i will recall the way he looks at me, the sound of my name on his tongue, the feeling of his lips trailing between the valley of my breast; featherlight, cautious and unfitting for a man of his nature. i've written songs of praise, all dedicated to him, and if only he knew, oh how smug he would be. but i love him, i love him, i love him. and when he spins me around like a marionette, it is with overwhelming pride and joy that i tell him this, and with rose hued cheeks and bashful grumbles, he tells me the same. so mother, wherever you are, i hope you know i've found my god.

#💥.katsuki #bakugou x trans reader #bakugou x trans male reader #bakugou x male reader #katsuki bakugou x male reader #male reader insert #mha x male reader #boku no hero x reader #bakugou x you #trans reader

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imagines4thepeeps · 4 years ago

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I want to see the colors of another sky (Rosie Betzler x reader)

For: @tinycashcolorparty

Request: Could you do one were reader and rosie are laying in bed and they reader asks rosie what they will do after this is all over(after the war)and rosie tells reader cute stuff they will do together and then it cuts to reader seeing rosie's body hanging there

A/n: this is my first writing for Rosie and just this request alone was enough to make me cry.

WARNING: mentions of homophobia, death, Holocaust, nazis, antisemitism ——————————————————————

“Good night Jojo” Rosie and you both yelled at the door of your son’s room. Well, he was Rosie's son, yours by proxy.

“Night mum, night aunt (y/n)” the boy yelled back. His nose stuck in Hitler’s newest piece of propaganda. At that confirmation, you and your lover made your way to your shared room hand in hand. As far as Jojo knew his mother had given up all the spare beds to be used in the war effort. That’s why his godmother and mother had to sleep in the same bed.

Both, out of habit, looked all around to ensure none of the curtains had been left ajar. After your mental check, your shoulders relaxed and for the first time that day, you were with each other. Rosie layed down in the modestly uncomfortable bed first, her mischievous grin never wavering. She playfully patted the spot on her chest right above her heart, you knew instantly what that meant. You made your way to her, not before securely locking the door.

You wrapped your arms around Rosie, your head coming to her chest. Your ears were suddenly flooded with your favorite sound in the whole world, Rosie’s ever-steady beating heart. Following it delightfully was your favorite smell in the world. Rosie, in line with her name, always smelled of the rose bushes that lined your childhood home in the country.

“Rosie?” You asked out into the air. It was barely audible and you were certain she hadn’t heard.

“Yes, Meine Blume?” Your breath hitched at the nickname. Suddenly your mind whirled to the days before the war. At the time you and Rosie had met, your father was working for her family as a gardener and you as his apprentice. You both had been so happy in those days, so safe, so much life flowed through the very ground you walked on. It wasn’t that way now, everything was deadly still, and dark. Everything, except your Rosie.

“Where will we go?” You asked, once again basking in her intoxicating scent. She got silent for a moment." After the war I mean." you clarified.

“Mexico." she said excitedly," We will go to Mexico. I love the colors don’t you liebling?”

“Mexico?” You pondered,” Jojo would lose his mind!” You giggled as did Rosie.

“He would deal with it, we would live on the beach, bring Elsa with us too.” When she said the girl's name her voice lowered and took a somber tone. Quickly she went back to your future. “We’d swim every day and it would never get cold.” She sighed

You smiled at the thought,” Yes I think the sun would be good for all of us.” She hummed in agreement.

“You could have a full garden, and Jojo could learn to ride a mule, and I could just ...... dance. We could all dance. How I miss dancing.” She sighed sadly. You hopped up and quickly put a record on.

“Let’s dance right now.” You said holding your hand out to your love. Her eyes scanning you with humor. Nonetheless, she took your hand. You pulled her to you and swayed slowly to the flowing song. Your head went to her shoulder.

“He could finally call me mom.” You whispered. You froze when you realized what you had said. Rosie froze as well. When you pulled back from her shoulder, her eyes met yours. A single tear was running down her beautiful face. You lifted your hand wiping the tear away, you hated when she was sad.

“Yes, that would be amazing meine Blume.” She took your face in her hands,” we will be a family.” She brought your lips together, tears of happiness rolling down both of your cheeks. ——————————————————————— “Jojo?!” You called out. The boy ignored you though, continuing to hold on to ......... no.

Your heart sank and bile rose in your throat as something between a sob and a scream escaped you. Thank god no one cared, “too much loss for anyone to care” Rosie would say.

You felt your knees hit the ground before you knew what was happening. She looked all wrong. The life that once poured out of her snuffed out. This was it. Nothing could continue for you without Rosie. There was no life outside of her.

Then you thought of poor little Jojo clinging to his mother’s legs. Your son losing the last shred of loyalty to his nation with her death. His light fading with every shaky breath and wretched scream. He needed you.

You thought of Elsa and her dead lover. Oh, how you couldn’t imagine that pain when you had learned of what happened. You didn’t have to imagine now. She was all alone in the heart of a country that hated her. Her only true friend in this world, now eerily silent. She needed you.

You thought of Mexico. Oh, how many nights had that warm sunburnt dream kept you going.

You thought of the garden you would fill. You thought of Jojo sitting atop an animal as stubborn as he is. You thought about Elsa finding her place in this world. You thought about dancing.

You thought about Rosie. Your sweet Rosie, who was stronger than oak but alive as a poppy field. She was warm and steady. She ........ was gone.

Her last words to you before she left ringing in your ears.

“I’ve bought the tickets, when I get back we will leave this place far behind, and we’ll be a family.”

Family.

Yes.

Family.

That’s what Rosie had always been for you. Now you were that for Jojo and Elsa.

Shooting to your feet with a burst of energy you had no idea you possessed you stumbled to Jojo. The air in your lungs halted when suddenly it came out with a strangled exhale. You could smell her.

Rose bushes.

And death.

“Jojo”, your voice was quiet and barely there. “We need to go.” The boy held on ever tighter. How you wished to be allowed the comfort of a final hug. To put your head on her shoulder one last time.

“We have to go,” you forced out past your tears, but you knew he wasn’t budging. You wrapped your arms around his all too small waist. And lifted him, as he thrashed around, before settling to burry his head in your chest and cry.

You carried the boy home and packed his things. Though you tried to be strong the tears never stopped falling. You packed a bag for yourself and Elsa.

And one with Rosie’s things as well.

“Where are we going miss (y/l/n)?” Elsa asked glad to be on the move once again. Jojo was silent, you doubted he would ever break free of that silence. You sure hadn’t in the weeks she’d been gone. After the day you found her you went back to give her a proper burial. Jojo had not attended, Elsa had.

“Home.”

#rosie betzler #Rosie betzler x reader #Scarlett Johansson #Scarlett Johansson x reader #jojo rabbit #jojo betzler #taika waititi

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writings-of-a-british-fangirl · 4 years ago

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Change Is Good (Zuko x Reader) [Everything Has Changed Part 2]

Title: Change Is Good Summary: You and Zuko follow your destiny, which leads you to Aang and his friends. As you expected, they're not happy. But, can you change this? Warnings: A little bit of angst and a tiny bit of violence Request: One of my lovely followers wanted a part 2 so here it is!

A/N: Part 3 is now out!!

PART 1: EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED PART 2: CHANGE IS GOOD PART 3: CHANGING SPIRITS PART 4: A HEART OF CHANGE

Zuko~Change Is Good

You felt the nerves climb up your body. Sure, you were confident in what you were doing: it was the right thing, but that didn't make the prospect of being caught by the Fire Lord or Azula any less terrifying. Zuko had promised to meet you at the pique of the solstice. Part of you didn't want to think about what he was going to do before that point, but you had some suspicion: he was going to confront his father. That left you with one important thing to do: commandeer a war balloon.

You began scouting out a war balloon. It had been left unattended unlike the others, and it was the perfect opportunity to steal your get away vehicle.

Confidently, you strolled over to the balloon. You began to pretend work on the balloon, tinkering around with the edge of the basket. The metal looked fine, but that's not what you were going to tell the soldiers.

"Hey! You there! What are you doing?" a fire nation soldier yelled.

"Just as I suspected! It's been perforated!" you exclaimed, "I'm afraid you're going to have to use a different war balloon, boys."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your balloon! It's not up to scratch with the others!" you exclaimed, "You better join the others in another balloon- you don't want to miss out on the glorious opportunity to capture and defeat the Avatar do you?"

"I-No," the soldier said.

"Well, run along. Princes orders. Can't have any balloons not taking off."

"Yes, of course."

Once they moved along, all you had to do was wait for Zuko to arrive. As time more time passed, the more your nerves had crept in. What if Azula had gotten to him? What if his father had? Maybe you should've gone with him? Should've helped him? But, just as you were about to question everything, you heard someone shouting your voice. Swiftly, you turned around.

"Zuko," you smiled, "You made it."

"Did you doubt me?"

"Not at all Prince Zuko," you teased.

"I thought I told you to stop calling me that," he sarcastically replied.

"Whatever," you murmured, "Just get in."

You hated to admit it, but you'd missed Zuko. You'd missed the back and forth you were used to. For a long time he was basically your only friend. Since being back in the Fire Nation, you'd barely had any contact with him: it was lonely. But, now it seemed things were going back to normal. Or, at least, there was the possibility of going back to normal in the future.

---

"Do you know what you're going to say to them?" you murmur to Zuko, "When we find them?"

Zuko was staring off into the distance. Judging by the direction Appa was flying they were heading to the Air Temple. It was familiar to Zuko: he had been there at the start of his journey to capture the Avatar. The irony of meeting the Avatar again here to ask him to join him was not lost him. He hung his head a little and thought about your question: what was he going to say to them?

"I... I was hoping I was going to think of something on the way there," he told you, "I'm not expecting forgiveness from them but I need them to know I've changed."

"He might not like it but he needs a fire bending teacher in order to stop this."

Zuko just nods. He knows you're trying to help; you've always tried to help him, even when he pushed you and Iroh away, even when he didn't deserve it. When he first got back to the Fire Nation, he thought it would all fall into place. He hoped, no he needed, his decisions to be validated. Zuko so longed to fall back into his old life and fit like the last piece in a puzzle. But, even with his father's acceptance, it wasn't right. He couldn't help but think back to his mother, and to you. You were just as protective over his as his mother was. When Azula would pick on his, you'd defend him with loyalty he could only wonder how he earned. And, even after his mother disappeared, he still felt some sort of comfort from you. Of course, as he aged, you became more than family.

He'd never vocalised that, thought.

Rejection hurt, and Zuko knew he wasn't strong enough to lose you again. So, for now, you would remain friends. Even if it hurt him to know one day he would have to let go, and let you go into the arms of another.

What Zuko hadn't realised is that you'd done the exact same thing to you. You'd let him slip away and you saw him slowly get closer to Mai. You saw the way he lit up around her, and you were forced to come to a realisation you'd always dreaded: you were replaceable. Not only were you replaceable, you were forgettable. And, the saddest part? You didn't even mind: if it was anyone you thought deserved kindness in his life it was Zuko. Even if you couldn't be that love in his life, at least he was being loved.

That's why it felt so odd now: where did you stand? How had he left Mai? Had he even left Mai? Or, when this is all over, would he just return to her again? It was too risky, you had decided, to tell him about how you felt, so you kept quiet.

"Hey, look, we're here," you hear Zuko say, and you raise your head.

"I remember how it looked the first time we came here," you say, "Maybe this time we can actually appreciate it. Especially when they'll be an actually airbender to show us around."

"I don't think we've earned the VIP tour yet," Zuko says, "But, hopefully, we'll at least get to stay."

---

This was going to be a lot harder than you'd thought. Of course, Team Avatar were never going to accept you like welcome guests, but you hoped they would at least see why you were necessary. Aang needed a fire bending teacher: here you were, two fire benders. But, they had refused and you'd gone with Zuko to set up camp for the night.

"So stupid! Why did I say that?" Zuko complained.

"Zuko, don't say that-"

"-No, they were right," Zuko interrupted, "I don't think they're ever going to except us. Except me. I don't know what to do. I've never felt so lost... I know this is the right thing to do but it's so hard."

You walked closer to him, only a hands' touch away.

"That only means it's worth doing," you say softly, "You know your destiny, Zuko. We're just going to have to be patient."

A smile barely ghosted across his face, but you still caught it.

"What would I do without you?"

"Crash and burn," you teased, "Literally. Now come on, Prince, get some sleep."

This time Zuko didn't correct you on his nickname. In fact, he found it quite endearing- not that he'd tell you that. He looked down and away from you so you wouldn't see the blush across his face. He coughed under his breath, and nodded, agreeing to go to sleep. But, he didn't think he'd actually get much sleep.

---

It seemed even when he wasn't trying to be dangerous, Zuko couldn't help his nature. He was startled awake by Toph, and instinctively threw a bolt of fire towards her. It lapped the underside of her feet, burning them on impact. Despite trying to apologise and run after her, he was forced backwards with rocks, and eventually gave up. You stirred when you felt a wave of heart, mostly likely from Zuko.

"What's going on? What happened?" you asked Zuko as he stood to the edge of your make shift camp, his shoulder hung in shame.

"I burned her."

"What? You burned who? How?"

"Toph," he explained, "She came to speak to us I think... But, I lashed out when I heard noise, and I burnt her. It was an accident I swear! But..."

He trails off.

"I don't think they're ever going to accept me. Not after I burnt Toph... And, all the other times I've wronged them," Zuko said, barely audible, "It's hopeless."

"Don't say that!" you cry out, "We'll- No, I'll go speak to them in the morning when the situation has settled down. I'm sure Toph will understand it's an accident."

Although it wasn't ideal, Zuko needed sleep. He did his best to fall back asleep, but was only plagued with nightmares. At some point they faded and he began to dream of his childhood, and of you.

You'd grown up together, despite the fact your family wasn't royalty- far from it, in fact. However, your mother was close to Zuko's mother. Your father was a soldier who died shortly after your birth, so when your mother reached out to her old friend Ursa, and explained her situation, she opened up her heart and her home to you. Ozai barely noticed you and your mother- if it didn't concern advancing his power, he didn't care. So, you did your best to stay out of his way. However, you didn't stay out of the way of his son, Zuko. From an early age, it seemed like you were kindred spirits. He was your best friend, and practically family after your mother died from a severe flu.

Of course, living in the royal palace didn't come without it's challenges. Zuko's sister was one of them; Azula had it in for you the day you arrived it seemed. You had a suspicion she was jealous of how fond her mother was of you. She liked to pick on Zuko, and revelled in how angry you would get. But, then she would turn her attention to you. Zuko would try and defend you, but you had a fierce spirit and would always push back against her. She scared you but that didn't mean you wouldn't fight back.

Zuko had always admired that about you. In fact, he admired most things about you. His mother had noticed too. She liked to tease him about it, jesting that she thought the two of you made the cutest little pair. Back then of course, the thought hadn't even occurred to him, but now he couldn't help but think his mother was right.

When Zuko awoke, you were nowhere to be seen. His first instinct was to panic, but he soon found the note you'd tucked right beside him. It read: 'I've gone to speak to them. Don't worry! I won't be gone long, and hopefully when I'm back we'll have an alliance or at least lunch. ~Y/N.' He read over the note and fell back in his sleeping bag. He hoped you wouldn't be long.

It had been far too long since you had first left, and Zuko was beginning to get worried. He thought it was just his over thinking when he heard the distinct yell of your voice: you were in danger!

---

"I know you don't trust Zuko-"

"-Or you," Sokka interrupted.

"...Or me," you corrected, "But I need you to at least listen to me. We've done some terrible stuff, and I know that we can't make it up to you, but I need you understand he wants to help. I want to help. You don't understand what its like being raised around Fire Nation propaganda-"

"-We don't care," Katara said.

"You need to understand-"

You were interrupted again. Only this time it wasn't Sokka, it was the rumbling of the Air Temple. Your stomach sank- it was Combustion Man. Your heart sank. You didn't come here looking for a fight today, but if that's what you had to do, you would.

"Everyone take cover!"

"Why should we listen to you?" Sokka snarked.

"It's the assassin you idiot! I'm trying to help you!" you yelled, "Now take cover! I'm going to give him something to fire at!"

The gang watched you as you used your fire to strike at the assassin. You launched yourself into the air, using fire to throw yourself further. With a loud thud, you landed on the cliff edge, adjacent to the assassins. Using a sprint to build up power, you ran at him. You threw fire ball after fire ball, hurling all your power at him. You run was cut short but his hand around your neck; he held you off the ground as you struggled. Your fingers grappled with his, struggling to get him off you. You began to gasp for air. You heat up your hands to a scorching temperature, and ram them down onto his wrist. He flinched back and threw you down beside him. You hit the ground, and felt the wind being knocked out of you. You slid down the small ledge on the cliff, and began yelling for Zuko.

You felt the ground shift beneath you. The cliff was weakening and was about to break. In your weakened state, you tried to dig your hand into the side of the cliff, but you were far too tired to hold on. The cliff gave way and crumbled beneath you. Your scream was almost deafening.

"Zuko!" you yell out, scared for your life.

That's when you feel an arm around you, and your body come into contact with the cliff again. You opened your eyes again: Zuko. He saved you! He had used a vine to swing in and grab you, saving you from falling. You breathe a sigh of relief, but not for long. There was a deadly assassin to take down.

"Of all the assassins, you had to pick a combustion bender?" you ask Zuko.

"I can still drop you, you know," Zuko warned.

You rolled your eyes and began climbing the vine with Zuko's help and guidance.

As soon as your were stood up again, the winding had almost wore off- enough, at least to fight back. You and Zuko had always made a good team, especially when it came to fighting, and today would be no different. You began creating walls of fire, and forcing them towards him. Zuko doing the same. You were getting pushed back but still prevailing. That's when a boomerang came flying around the corner and hit Combustion Man dead in his third eye, sending him falling backwards, you watched him fall to the ground with a thud.

"I'm never letting you go off on your own again- you make terrible decisions," you say looking down at the assassin on the ground then back to Zuko.

"You know what, I'm okay with that."

"Thank you, by the way," you say, "You know, for saving me."

You exchanged a look together then made your way over to the gang. They were a little hesitant, which you had expected, but there was a different emotion in Aang's face. You looked to Zuko and then to the group, ready to face their judgement.

"I never thought I'd bee saying this, but I think you were meant to be my fire bending teacher Zuko."

You couldn't help but smile a little.

You listened to Aang as he asked the rest of the group how they felt. Although Katara wasn't happy, you and Zuko were let into the group.

"I won't let you down!" Zuko exclaimed.

Zuko watched them leave, and then turned back to you.

"Is this what doing the right thing feels like?" Zuko asked, "It feels good."

You nodded, "We should've been doing this all along. Besides I prefer your hair a lot more now than the pony tail you had during your angst phase."

You laughed at his offended phase before walking after the gang, so they could show you where your room was. Zuko let your comment sink in then protested, jogging after you.

"Hey! I thought you liked the pony tail!"

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aresaphrodites · 4 years ago

Text

(( maybe jughead and betty don’t need all that extra angst. maybe they simply see each other again for the first time in seven years and realize that they can be in love and happy together. ))

She thinks she might be dreaming.

It’s been seven years since she’d last seen him in person. His hair is shorter than it had been back then, but still long enough; just like how she’d always loved it. It even looks a little lighter in color, as if he’d finally spent some time out in the sun instead of cooped up inside all day. He seems more sure of himself too. He stands a little taller, a little prouder. He still looks just as beautiful.

He’s dropped the plaid and leather; all the dark colors that had made him seem further away than he actually was. He’s wearing a loose fitted, white sweater that looks soft to the touch and light jeans. He doesn’t look so guarded anymore. She feels like she could even reach out and touch him if she wanted to, and she does, but she holds herself back. She knows her touch isn’t wanted, not anymore.

Her childhood bedroom seems like the perfect place for them to run into each other again, if she’s being honest. After all, this was where they had their last conversation. Even after all these years, she can still remember it like it just happened. Her mind refuses to let her forget, and maybe a part of her doesn’t want to. She wants to hold onto the heartbreak and anger from that day, because it’s all she has left of Jughead Jones now. It’s the only thing she has to remind herself that, once upon a time, she was in love. She was happy.

I tried, Jughead’s voice rings out in her head, a quiet melody that never really leaves. I tried to forgive you, but I can’t. Betty--. Betty, I love you. I love you so much, but I can’t… I can’t. I look at you and all I can see is the two of you together, I’m sorry.

Please don’t apologize. Despite the fact that she’s not crying now, Betty can still feel the tear tracks that had stained her face that day. They’re like a tattoo that only she can see; a silent, permanent reminder of how she had destroyed the heart of the only person she ever truly loved. And please don’t leave me. It was a mistake, that’s all it was, Juggie. A horrible mistake. I can fix this! I can fix us. You just have to give me a chance. You’re not even giving me a chance! And then, defeated. Please just… give me a chance.

He hadn’t given her one in the end. Maybe it was for the best, maybe it’s what she deserved. She’s the one who messed up, so she’s the one who has to suffer. It makes sense. She doesn’t hold it against him.

But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

The last time they’d been here, heartbreak had been written all over his face. It was a horribly painful kind of heartbreak too, one that she had never been able to forget, because even though she had broken him and ruined a piece of his heart that he would never be able to repair, he had still looked at her with so much love in his eyes.

There’s not love in them right now, but there isn’t anger or heartbreak either.

He looks at her the way he would have back before they dated; when they were just two best friends who could only ever dream of loving someone so much. He looks at her the way he had when they were kids playing baseball together; his eyes shining with happiness as he watched her and Archie argue over whether Betty hit a foul ball or not. The way he had when Betty had threatened to beat up Reggie back in the third grade because he kept stealing Jughead’s gushers at lunch; like she was his saving grace, someone he would always trust to protect him.

He’s not smiling at her, but there’s a softness in his eyes that lets her take a deep breath. He’s looking at her like maybe he doesn’t hate her, like he hasn’t spent all this time resenting her. He looks… relieved. He looks like he can finally breathe again after years of being stuck underwater. He looks like maybe— maybe he missed her too.

“Jughead.”

His name falls off her lips the way it always had; the way it always will. Like a prayer; like the chorus of her favorite song. It feels so good to say it like this now, in front of him. Her hand twitches at her side and she clenches her fist softly. She wants to reach out, to touch him. Is he really here? Is she dreaming again?

“Betts.”

The nickname shocks her so badly that she physically takes a step back. Her mouth drops open at the way he says it; like she’s something precious, something beautiful that he has to hold close to him.

It’s a dream. It has to be. Everything is a dream. She’s still asleep back at her apartment in the city. She hasn’t actually gotten to Riverdale yet. She’s just dreaming about him like she always does. And any second now, he’s going to disappear just like he always does.

That’s why she doesn’t touch him. She can’t. Every time she tries in her dreams, she wakes up right before they touch. It breaks her heart every time and yet every single night, she does it anyway. She couldn’t resist even if she wanted to. She’s never wanted to, though.

Except right now.

Because right now it feels too real. She’s terrified to wake up; she can’t handle another morning of tears streaming down her face before she’s even opened her eyes. She’s not strong enough anymore. She’s spent seven years missing him and she can’t do it anymore.

Please don’t be a dream.

But then…

But then he smiles.

It’s small at first, barely even a hint of one as his lips slightly twitch upwards. It grows and grows, until his eyes are crescents as he grins happily at her. He doesn’t look angry or sad; he looks like he’s been waiting his whole life to see her again.

He opens his arms, a clear invitation, and Betty’s eyes water as she looks at his welcoming stance.

If this is a dream… I won’t be able to handle it.

Please. Please don’t be a dream.

She knows that she shouldn’t—she should try and stay here with him a little longer, as long as she can, but she can’t stop herself from running into his embrace just like she always does.

She closes her eyes as she throws her arms around him, crushing herself against his body. She was right; his sweater is soft. It’s warm too. And so is he.

His arms wrap around her and he holds her tightly to him, like he’s scared she might disappear. Her face is in his neck and she can feel his lips kiss her hair. Her eyes water even more, but she forces the tears away. There’s no use crying in a dream. When she wakes up, she’s always alone. There’s no one to comfort her.

“I missed you so much,” he whispers into her ear and she bites her lip to hold back a sob that’s making its way up her throat. “I’m so sorry I stayed away all these years. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”

Betty clenches her eyes even tighter. She can’t let herself get attached to those words. Once she opens her eyes, all of this will disappear. That’s the price she pays for touching him. It’s always the same.

“I miss you everyday,” Betty says softly. She brings a hand up to run through his hair. It’s so soft, she never wants to forget how it feels in between her fingers. “Please don’t leave me again.”

“I won’t. I promise I won’t.”

She inhales deeply as she pulls away from Jughead.

She counts to three and opens her eyes slowly.

He’s still standing in front of her, looking confused.

She blinks.

His hands are holding her arms tightly, like he’s scared she’s going to bolt at any given second. His eyes trail over her face as if he’s searching for something. He must find whatever it is he’s looking for, because he smiles at her again; soft and hopeful.

“I’m here,” he says, like she needs confirmation. Maybe she does. Maybe he knows that. He’s always known her better than anyone else. “I’m not leaving you again, I promise.”

He brings a hand up to her face and cups her cheek and Betty… Betty falls apart. The tears that she had been holding back pour over as she finally allows herself to cry; to feel everything.

Jughead’s here. He’s actually in front of her. He’s holding her. He doesn’t hate her.

He doesn’t hate her.

He wraps himself around her protectively once he sees that she’s crying. His voice comforts her, filling her with a familiar warmth that she hasn’t felt in so long. Elegant, long fingers card themselves through her hair while the other arm holds her closely to him, leaving little space in between the two of them.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Betty says through her tears. She has to tell him again, needs him to know that she never forgot about him; never moved on. “I’m so sorry, Jug. I’m so sorry for everything.”

“It’s okay. We’re going to figure it out, okay? I’m not--I’m not losing you again.”

She rests her head against his chest and lets him comfort her as she cries. Neither of them say anything more, but they don’t need to.

They’re here. They’re together.

The rest is easy.

#i wanted to write an actual long one shot based off this #but uhhhh writing machine aka my brain is broke #so have this instead ??#aka i want angst in the show but im not ready for it so i wrote this instead #bughead #bughead fic

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